Hidden Judgment

by Diane Benefiel

  “Right.” He shut the dishwasher and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Her name was Nan Beauchamp. She was my mom’s older sister. They were close. They’d been raised on the reservation until their dad died, then my grandmother moved them to town.”

  “You’re Native American?”

  “Part, from her side. Nan was engaged to her high school sweetheart. He proposed before being shipped off to Vietnam. He was killed in the Battle of Khe Sanh a week after getting off the troop transport. She never married or had kids of her own, but she made a good life for herself. I told you she taught English, and she loved to learn. I owe her for where I am today.”

  Ellie wasn’t so sure about that. Even all those years ago, she’d recognized in Sam an inner drive and intensity that she was confident would have taken him as far as he wanted, even without support from his aunt.

  Sam caught her gaze. “What about you? Won’t I need to know something about Ellie Jameson for social situations?”

  “Rachel Sinclair.”

  “I want to know about Ellie Jameson. It’s got to be hard on a kid when her dad abandons her family and eventually becomes a fugitive.”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  He gave her a look. “Really? Three siblings, all with the Marshals Service, and all on the same team assigned to investigate extremist groups in Oregon? You don’t think I’d do a little investigating of my own?”

  “I guess you would.” She could talk about the crimes her father had committed, about his activities with right-wing terrorist groups, but she was never comfortable opening up about how her father’s abandonment had affected her family. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Ellie—”

  The dogs sprung to their feet to scramble across the floor a moment before a knock sounded at the front door. Ellie heaved a mental sigh of relief for the reprieve.

  “Who do you know that uses the front door?”

  “There’s a few people.”

  “Let me check it out.”

  He raised a brow. “You putting yourself between me and danger, Eleanor?”

  “That is my job.”

  “The hell with that.” He strode to the front of the house, and when he would have reached for the doorknob, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “Hold on a minute. We need to have a serious discussion about our roles, Creed, but for now, at least slow down enough to look through the peephole.”

  “Fine.” He put his eye up to the hole, and a moment later yanked open the door.

  The man standing in the other side had jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail and facial features that looked carved from granite. He also had a baby on his shoulder and dark brows pulled into a frown as he glared at Sam.

  What looked like a daypack hung from one shoulder, a capped baby bottle sat in a side pouch. “What the hell, man?”

  His gaze shifted to focus on Ellie and he brushed past Sam to step inside.

  Chapter Seven

  “You must be Rachel. I’m Ben Montoya.” Ben shifted the baby so he could hold out a hand. Ellie shook it cautiously.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “This is my daughter, Georgie.” He turned so she could see the tiny face with infant-blue eyes open to the world. “I hear you’ve gotten engaged to my best friend.” He gave Sam a hard look. “And I didn’t even know you existed.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  Sam shut the door. “Come in and I’ll explain.”

  Ben settled on the couch, laying the baby on his lap. A little foot in a pink and green striped sock stuck out from under a fluffy blanket.

  Ellie caught an enigmatic look from Sam before he said, “We’re not engaged.”

  “Sam!”

  He turned to her. “Ben isn’t threatening me.”

  “We don’t know who’s threatening you, and if you tell one person, you can’t control where it goes. He tells his wife, she tells her sister, who then tells a coworker, and it spreads.”

  “That would be husband,” Ben cut in.

  “What?”

  “I have a husband,” he stated. “Not that it matters given your concerns. Are you law enforcement?”

  “Ben, this is Deputy US Marshal Eleanor Jameson. Using the name Rachel Sinclair, she’s posing as my fiancée while the threats against me are investigated.”

  Ellie threw up her hands. “Great, just great. Why don’t you write me a list of all the people you think aren’t threats and we’ll gather them all together at the same time to tell them our engagement is fake?”

  “Ben is the only person I told about the emails. He’s the one who urged me to contact the Marshals Service.”

  “Which, being a federal judge, you should have done immediately.”

  “I planned to contact the marshals, but I talked to Ben first. A few things had happened out at the ranch and I wanted Ben’s take on whether he thought they were related to the threats.”

  Ellie had to restrain herself from pulling her hair out by the roots. “You mean things happening at the ranch that you failed to mention before now?”

  “Yeah. Ben and I grew up together at Rock Creek. His father is the foreman, Pete Montoya. Drew mentioned him.”

  “You talked to Drew?” The baby made little squeaky noises while she sucked on a pacifier and Ben stroked her cheek with a long finger. “Did he complain that Dad hasn’t grabbed a rifle and gone wolf hunting?”

  “Yeah. Was it wolf?”

  “No. Dad thinks human, but Drew’s not buying it. He’s already posted shit online blaming environmentalists and insisting defending gun rights is the only thing that will keep us safe from marauding carnivores.”

  “Hang on, Creed. Can we get back to the point at hand?” Ellie tried to keep the anger out of her voice. “You’ve jeopardized our mission, and since this is the first I’ve heard about events at your ranch, it’s apparent you haven’t been forthcoming. Me posing as your fiancée to provide protection and doing the investigation this way was your idea, and the team agreed because it had merit. But if you can’t maintain our cover story and aren’t willing to bring the Marshals Service all the way in, you should have told us up front and we could have done this differently.”

  “I haven’t jeopardized our cover story. Ben’s a vault. He won’t tell anyone.”

  His assertion only irritated her more, but while her words might have been biting, she worked to keep her tone even so as not to disturb the baby. “You should have told us about the ranch at the beginning, and giving away our cover to even one person is irresponsible.” She glanced at Ben. “No offense, but that’s how it is.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I need to call Seth and let him know.”

  With the phone to her ear listening to it ring, she watched Sam reach down to scoop up the little girl. Ben rose to his feet and headed to the kitchen with the baby bottle.

  Seth picked up, and Ellie explained the situation. A few minutes later, she tucked her phone back in her pocket.

  “Your brother pissed?” Sam held the baby with ease. Judge Hottie holding a baby should look incongruous, but he looked perfectly natural and at ease.

  Georgie stretched out a little hand. Ellie couldn’t resist and held out a finger for the tiny girl to grip. Ellie matched Sam’s quiet tone. “Not as pissed as I am. He seems to trust your judgment, but says to get a promise from Ben that he won’t tell anyone, including his husband.” She frowned. “Tell me what’s going on at your ranch.”

  “Five weeks ago someone started a brushfire. It scorched a couple acres but would have been a hell of a lot worse if the guys hadn’t jumped on it. There’s been some vandalism. Rocks through windows on a couple trucks, and some fences pulled down. Drew wants to hire armed militia. A dead calf raises the stakes.”

  The baby cooed and Ellie smiled. “Hey there, sweet pea.” She glanced up to find Sam looking at her with his usual hard-to-read expression, and realized they were standing close enough that she
could see silver glints in his dark gray eyes.

  Ben returned, shaking the bottle, and Ellie took a quick step back. He took Georgie and settled back on the couch, where the baby immediately latched onto the bottle.

  “How’d you hear about my engagement?” Sam sat in the recliner.

  “Went to the grocery store for formula and ran into two different people who asked me what I thought of your fiancée. If you’d wanted me to put on a good show, you should have given me a heads-up. As it is, I told them I had yet to meet your intended but meant to soon. So here I am.”

  Figuring she had to make do with the cards she’d been dealt, Ellie decided to pick Ben’s brain. “What’s your take on the threats Sam’s been receiving? Do you have any thoughts on who might have sent them?”

  “Not specifically, but I can guess. I’m sure you know Eastern Oregon has been plagued by right-wing, anti-government groups. Many of their members think owning a gun is the basis of all political freedom. They’ve built their entire identity around the use and ownership of firearms. Sam has handed down a few decisions that they perceive as restricting their Second Amendment rights. Some of them are batshit enough to go after a federal judge. That’s where I’d start looking.”

  “We have been. Any other ideas?”

  He looked thoughtful. “There are also people who harbor resentment against Indians, particularly Indians who have done well for themselves. Sam is Umatilla. My people are Nez Percé. Sam’s a federal judge. I’m a doctor. Some folks don’t like when people like us don’t stay where they think we belong.”

  “How has that resentment manifested itself?”

  “Comments.” Sam shrugged. “I’ve been called ‘chief,’ been told to go back to the rez, had my impartiality doubted. It’s infrequent, but it happens. More people than I can count are dumbfounded that I don’t practice tribal law, like that’s the only choice for native lawyers.”

  “Me, I’ve had my credentials questioned. Comments like ‘I didn’t know Indians went to med school.’ Shit like that.”

  Sam’s phone rang and he crossed to his office to answer it. Georgie was making good progress with her bottle. “How old is Georgie?”

  “Six weeks. She was two days old when Justin and I got her. It’s been a crash course on being dads. Thank god for our parents.” He gave Ellie a look that made her understand she was being assessed. “This goes against Sam’s core makeup, you know.”

  Ellie raised her brows. “What does?”

  “You two posing as an engaged couple. Intellectually, he gets it, but Sam’s the most honest person I know. He has a basic, bone-deep integrity that’s unshakable, and lying will weird him out.”

  “Having a fake fiancée was his idea. The Marshals Service wanted to provide a security detail. Sam’s plan was to try to draw out whoever is making threats against him.”

  “It might work, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for him. I don’t think he planned on telling me the truth about you, but when I showed up at the door, he couldn’t lie.”

  Sam came back into the room. “That was Officer Herrera. They found the truck that nearly ran us down. It had been abandoned on a dirt road out near the quarry.”

  “Abandoned? Who’s it registered to?”

  “The woman who reported it stolen last night.”

  “They recover any prints?”

  “They’re still processing the vehicle, but the steering wheel was clean so whoever was driving this morning wiped it down or was wearing gloves.”

  “Damn.”

  Ben put Georgie to his shoulder and gently patted her back, despite the fire that leapt in his eyes. “What the hell do you mean you were nearly run over?”

  “Hey, can I burp her?”

  “Sure.” Ben handed Ellie a cloth. “Put this on your shoulder.” He shifted his daughter over.

  Ellie settled her and sniffed the dark little head. “She smells so sweet.”

  She looked up to find Sam’s gaze on hers, the corner of his mouth lifting in his not-quite-a-smile smile. He reached out to run a hand over the baby’s head, the back of his hand brushing Ellie’s cheek.

  “Sorry to interrupt the moment, but the being-almost-run-over thing? I’d like an explanation.”

  “Right.” Sam recounted the incident, bringing back for Ellie the vivid memory of the roar of the engine and the blinding high beams as the truck barreled straight at them. “Good thing we were where we were. The guardrail offered good protection.”

  “You’re positive it was intentional?”

  “Given what else is going on and the fact that the truck was reported stolen? Yeah, I do.”

  “If the driver is known to you, he took a risk of being identified.”

  Ellie patted Georgie’s back. “The sun wasn’t all the way up and he had his high beams on, surely to intentionally blind us. Maybe he counted on that minimizing the risk.”

  “You two be careful.” Ben stowed the empty bottle in the daypack. “I need to get going. Georgie naps about this time, and hopefully Justin will have put together the baby swing.”

  Sam shook his head. “Used to be you and Justin would be planning your next rock-climbing goal. Times sure have changed.”

  “For the better, brother. Still love rock climbing, but nothing beats being a dad.”

  ***

  Sam ran along the dirt road on the outskirts of town, Ellie keeping pace, their footfalls beating a steady rhythm. To vary his routine, they’d delayed the morning run by forty-five minutes and chosen a route he rarely followed. He hated having to change his life because of some assholes. But one of the reasons he’d opted for this type of operation was because he wanted those assholes caught. It wasn’t good enough to simply keep himself safe. If the investigation could produce enough evidence, they might be able to imprison individuals who posed a fundamental threat to law and order, and hopefully cripple their organization and its ability to radicalize. That made the risk to himself worth it.

  The best thing to come out of the situation for him personally was the woman running at his side. Eleanor Jameson presented an intriguing package, one that hit about all the marks for him. She might be frustrated with her struggle to keep things professional, to rein in her emotions as she tried to remain analytical, but he found that tension fascinating.

  Case in point? That kiss yesterday morning.

  She’d gone with the impulse, and maybe it had started as a show for his neighbors, but her lips had landed on his and she’d taken him under until all he could think about was having more. The conflict was that she was a professional doing her job, and he respected that. Plus, she had two brothers who would likely beat him to a pulp if he made a move in that direction. Not that that would stop him if that’s where he wanted to go, but it was a consideration.

  The sun rising over the eastern mountains colored the thin layers of clouds pink and gold. They passed a house with smoke wafting from its chimney and the smell of wood smoke tinged the crisp air.

  Wide fields already harvested of their wheat flanked one side of the road, the other dotted with pastures for grazing cattle and horses. He liked Pendleton’s small-town vibe, with the added bonus of being surrounded by the charm of farms and pockets of land left wild. Ellie seemed to appreciate it, but that might be more because it was different from San Diego, but not as a place where she’d like to settle.

  And why was his mind going there?

  “You talked to Ben’s father last evening.” Her breath came in frosty puffs of vapor. She caught his look. “The office door wasn’t all the way closed. Besides, it’s my job to be nosy.”

  “I wasn’t thinking you were nosy. My life’s an open book.”

  She made a “pfft” sound.

  “You don’t think I’ve been open?”

  “Honestly? I think you’ve been open about what you deem valid areas for our investigation, but the rest you hold back. I get that. It’s human nature, but not helpful in allowing my team to get the full picture.”
>
  She had a point.

  “Pete says someone killed the calf. Sheriff said no other ranchers have reported problems like we’ve had.”

  “Did he take pictures?”

  They crested a hill, their strides getting longer as they took the downhill slope toward town.

  “No. I asked, but Pete doesn’t even own a cell phone. Reception is crap out there so he and Drew carry walkie-talkies, and they don’t carry cameras.”

  “How many people work on the ranch?”

  “Pete and Drew, plus a guy who comes in when needed.”

  “I’ll talk to the team, but we may need to go out there.”

  “That’s where I thought you were heading. I have a full schedule this week so it’s not likely to be before next weekend.”

  “What’s wrong with today?”

  He glanced at her. Things were moving a little faster than he’d anticipated, but he could adjust. “Nothing.”

  They transitioned to a cool-down pace as they took the last half-mile uphill to his street.

  They returned to the house and Ellie’s phone chimed as they stepped inside. She read the text, then said, “Linc says to come by their place. He’s cooking breakfast, and Seth wants to go over the plan for tomorrow.”

  That worked for him. The less time he spent alone with Ellie, the less opportunity he had to do something stupid, like following up on that kiss.

  Chapter Eight

  Forty minutes later, after they took a circuitous route to the rental, they parked behind the house and went up a small stoop to knock on the back door. Bella opened the door dressed in the type of professional attire women often wore in his courtroom. She grabbed Ellie’s arm and pulled her inside. “Good, you’re here. Your brother is giving orders like he’s the last tsar of Russia. He should remember how things ended for that autocrat.”

  Seth came up behind her. “I wasn’t giving orders. I only made a simple suggestion.”

  Sam followed Ellie into the house.

  Bella’s expression remained frigid enough that he was surprised Seth wasn’t suffering from frostbite. “It’s a suggestion that I change how I dress while I’m at work? That I adopt a hairstyle that is not professional? I have read the US Marshals rules and regulations. I am dressed appropriately for my profession.”