Hidden Judgment

by Diane Benefiel

  She refilled her mug and forced herself to slow her coffee intake and try to settle herself. Why hadn’t he kept that little tidbit to himself so she could go on thinking he was a jerk who’d tried to get her pulled from her assignment? He’d still wanted her reassigned, but his confession lowered him on the jerk scale.

  Damn him. He had to go ahead and admit to feelings like she’d know what to do about them.

  She stomped up the stairs, bringing her mug with her. She’d gained the landing when Sam opened the bathroom door and stepped out. With his black hair combed back from his forehead, he wore nothing but a low-slung pair of flannel pants that showcased the V-shaped muscles cradling ripped abs. That his body wound her up didn’t help her situation one bit. She’d had enough.

  “What the hell, Sam?”

  “What the hell what?”

  “You ‘shared’ you’ve got feelings for me, which, by the way, you’re not happy about. You don’t ask what I think about that, or if I have any feelings of my own. And now you’re happy to walk around half naked?”

  “I’m walking from the bathroom to my bedroom where I plan to get dressed. The important parts are covered.” He narrowed his eyes. “But tell me about those feelings you have for me.”

  His step toward her could only be described as predatory.

  A warning signal echoed in her brain and nerves were making her jittery. “Never mind. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Oh no you don’t. You started it.”

  He reached out to take her mug and set it on the little Duncan Phyfe table against the wall. He checked her instinctive step back by catching her hands in his.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing? I’m keeping you from running away so you can tell me about those feelings you mentioned.”

  “I wasn’t running. Implementing a little self-preservation.”

  “You can trust me, Ellie. I hurt you before, but not with intent, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

  “It does.” She couldn’t look away from the intensity of his gaze. “What are your feelings for me?”

  It took her a long time to respond, and she felt like her heart was lodged in her throat. If he could be honest about his emotions, so could she. She took a breath and pushed back against the anxiety that had panic tickling in the back of her throat.

  “It’s hard for me to admit, Sam, but I like you a lot, and I’m really worried that ‘like’ could turn into something more.”

  He nodded. “I get that, because it’s the same for me. All I can see is you.”

  Her breath hitched. “Jesus. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

  He flashed a wicked grin that had her sucking in a breath. Those little corner lifts of his mouth had whetted her appetite, and his full smile was worth the wait. “I’m not sure I’m ready, either. Only way to figure it out is to move forward.”

  Amusement vanished, and his gray eyes took on a smoky color as he closed the space between them. She was sure there were a dozen reasons why they shouldn’t be standing this close together, but she couldn’t think of one. He dipped his head and murmured against her lips, “No one’s watching, Eleanor. This one’s for us.”

  Their fingers entwined and his lips caught hers in a kiss that brought an instant wave of warmth, and a spike to her blood pressure. His mouth on hers, their breaths mingling, and the feeling that she could spend the next several hours happily doing this made her yearn for more. His tongue swept into her mouth and he tasted of mint toothpaste.

  He released her hands to grip her hips and bring her snug against him, heat to heat. Ever since that first morning when she’d seen him shirtless, she’d wanted her hands on him. Now she gave in to the desire and laid her palms flat against his chest, and when she stroked, she felt the strong beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

  At least she wasn’t the only one affected. He speared his fingers through her hair, and when they brushed against the bandage behind her ear, he broke the kiss to lay his lips lightly over it. “It kills me that you were hurt.” The soft words were barely audible.

  He moved his mouth along the column of her throat and nudged her chin up to allow him better access. She shivered as her nervous system went on overload. She decided his kisses provided a better morning pickup than the strongest coffee.

  She took her turn nuzzling his neck where warm skin smelled of soap from his shower. Trailing down, her tongue explored the hollow between his collarbone and neck, and his breath grew heavier.

  They were locked against each other center to center, and it was hard to miss his arousal. She rubbed against his erection and murmured, “How badly do you want to go to your breakfast meeting?”

  He groaned deep in his throat and she had to lock her knees to keep them holding her up. There were reasons she and Sam shouldn’t do what they were thinking about doing, but she put a block on that part of her brain. Then with one last open-mouth kiss, he gripped her shoulders and took a step back.

  She couldn’t miss the regret on his face.

  “I guess the answer to that is pretty badly.” She tried to make her tone light, but it came out sounding hesitant.

  He rested his forehead against hers and seemed to struggle to control his breathing until, with a sigh, he straightened. “It’s not that simple, Ellie. You already think I don’t value you as a marshal because you’re female. I’m not reinforcing that belief by taking advantage of you living in my home.”

  “Is it taking advantage if I want it, too?”

  “Right now, yes.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Despite feeling unsettled, Ellie spent a productive morning. Cleo and Tony kept her company while she finished the final report for an investigation she’d concluded the previous month. Next, she began whittling down a long list of emails, enjoying one from Mikayla with a picture of the mop-haired Labradoodle she and Linc had adopted. A call from Seth provided her another avenue to investigate their father’s recent movements so she spent an hour delving into online forums frequented by right-wing militia types, digging deeper when she found reference to both Judge Creed and Frank Bannister.

  Her phone buzzing broke her concentration. A glance at the caller ID had her smiling. She swiped the screen to answer the phone. “Sam.”

  “Ellie.” His low voice reverberated in her ear and all the emotions of that morning came crashing back. Tension crackled through the connection. “Can you make a doctor’s appointment at one?”

  She’d forgotten about the directive Ben had issued the night before. “I don’t need to go to the doctor. I don’t even have a headache.”

  “Good, then the doctor will clear you with no problem. She’s a friend of Ben’s and, as a favor to him, is giving up half of her lunch hour to see you.”

  “Way to put on the pressure, Judge Creed. I’ll call Seth and see if he can give me a ride.”

  “I’m going with you. I’m done with court, and I cleared my calendar for the rest of the day. I’ll be home at noon.”

  “You know, I can’t figure out if you’re playing the concerned fiancée role really well, or if you like managing people.”

  “Let’s keep it simple. This is me caring about you, but tangled up with it is that you got hurt because of me.”

  “You’ve got to let that go. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “You being cleared by the doctor will help.”

  “Fine.” A question had been niggling at her, so she voiced it. “Tell me, how did Seth convince you not to break up with me, I mean, convince you to keep up the fiancée pretense?”

  “I’m not going there.”

  “Why? Is it a secret?”

  “Leave it, Eleanor. I’ll see you around noon.”

  ***

  Hours later, after an all-clear from Ben’s friend, Eleanor sat beside Sam in the Land Cruiser. They’d turned onto the street that led over the river and th
en home. She shifted to look at him. “Take me to where you were parked when you found the C-four on your car.”

  He gave her a considering gaze, nodded, and drove to a dead-end road where a couple of cars were parked. He pulled off the pavement and parked the Land Cruiser in a dirt area.

  “This is it.”

  She looked around at what appeared to be an informal parking area. There were no neighboring homes or businesses, and no trees or brush to provide cover for someone attaching explosives to a vehicle. “What day of the week was that?”

  “Sunday. I found the explosive when I returned from my run, which was before seven a.m.”

  “Did you habitually run here weekend mornings?”

  “Not always, but frequently.”

  “Who would be familiar with your routine?”

  “Anyone who paid attention.” He opened the door. “Let’s walk.”

  They took a worn path, the sound of the river reaching her before she saw it. They came to a paved walkway, and a sign said “River Parkway.” It followed the Umatilla as it rushed over boulders, then slowed to form swirling eddies and dark pools. Deciduous trees along the banks showed bright fall colors and the autumn sun reflected off the water.

  Ellie took a deep breath as the breeze carried the damp smell of the river. She zipped her jacket and tugged her beanie to cover her ears. The temperature didn’t feel like it had warmed above fifty, and a stiff breeze chilled her cheeks. Despite that, she enjoyed the weather. “This is really nice. Cold, but nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  His distracted tone had her studying him. She didn’t bother fighting the pull of attraction. Faded blue jeans encased his long legs, and he had his hands buried deep in the pockets of his forest green wool coat. His brows were drawn low over smokey gray eyes, and a muscle worked in his jaw. What she had to tell him wasn’t going to improve his mood.

  “Sam, we’re looking at Drew for the threats against you.”

  He stopped to face her. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not him.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  Emotion crossed his face, then was blanked out. “Drew’s writing skills are poor. He struggled all through school with a learning disability. That’s not reflected in those emails.”

  “He could be working with someone. In fact, it’s likely there’s a conspiracy. We’ve found evidence that links him with SecAm.” She hesitated, then went on. “There was a video posted showing a group of heavily armed people, many with illegal weapons, standing around a bonfire. They’d read pages from books, mostly by liberal historians or politicians, then throw the books into the fire while giving the Nazi salute. Drew was one of the participants.”

  His scowl deepened the lines on either side of his mouth. “I’ll ask him about it, but he didn’t send the emails.”

  “Please don’t talk to him yet. We don’t want to tip our hand. I’m only telling you because he’s your brother.”

  “What do you mean, tip your hand? What are you doing?”

  “We’re conducting an investigation. There’s no doubt Drew is connected to the militia, but whether he has threatened you is unclear. If he is innocent, as you claim, the best way to prove that is to let us do our job so we can find the true culprit.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, then gave a curt nod.

  “You going to tell me how Seth talked you into keeping up the fiancée pretense?” She asked the question to try to lighten the mood, but Sam gave a frustrated sigh.

  “The bastard blackmailed me.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  “By being more perceptive than I gave him credit for. He figured out that my concern was for your safety and inferred that I may be developing a thing for you.”

  He’d said as much that morning, but that didn’t stop her heart from doing a slow somersault in her chest at his admission.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. The blackmail was sneaky. He said if you got pulled from your current job that you’d go back to your original assignment, which had been to send you undercover to infiltrate a militia group.”

  “That’s hardly blackmail. That had been the plan before I was assigned to be your girlfriend. I was getting friendly with a biker dude who’s a member of SecAm. He has an online dating profile and we’d been flirting back and forth.”

  “You’re my fiancée, not my girlfriend, and I didn’t like that plan.”

  She nodded slowly, frowning. “Sometimes my job involves undercover work.”

  “It’s fucking dangerous.”

  “It can be, but we mitigate the risk as best we can. Regardless, I think Seth was jerking your chain. We’d already decided not to go forward with that plan. There’s too much risk that we could cross paths with Richard Jameson. That would have been dangerous and would’ve jeopardized our entire mission.”

  He grunted.

  They returned to the car and, by unspoken agreement, checked for explosives. Satisfied there were no bombs, they got in and he started the car and pulled onto the street. He glanced at his watch, then said, “Dalia, the woman who cleans my house, is coming in to clean the library. What do you say we get some takeout for an early dinner? There’s a Mediterranean place that has good falafel. We can pick up enough for her, too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They arrived home thirty minutes later, passing an aged Honda SUV on the driveway to park in the garage. They walked into the kitchen carrying loaded bags with the dogs trailing behind them. Ellie wasn’t sure what she expected Sam’s cleaning lady to look like, maybe someone sturdy and middle-aged, but certainly not the petite twenty-something with a fall of black hair and gorgeous dark eyes that met them with a smile.

  “Hi, Sam. Good timing, I just finished.” She spotted Ellie and her smile widened. “You must be Rachel. I missed you last week. I’m Dalia. Ben told me about your engagement. Congratulations to both of you.”

  Since it appeared that Ben had kept their secret, Ellie said, “Thank you, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Sam held out a bag. “This is for you and the boys.”

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “You made time in your schedule to come out here today, so you earned it.”

  Dalia took the bag and opened it. “Since you got them gyros, it’s hard to say no. Thanks.”

  Sam’s tone changed. “You doing okay?”

  Dalia raised shadowed eyes, her smile dimming. “I’m fine. I saw the lawyer you recommended and she’s starting the divorce proceedings.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “It is. But Rudy is the boys’ father, and that makes it hard. But I have to move ahead.” She glanced at Ellie. “I apologize for talking about something you wouldn’t know about. Sam sentenced my husband to prison and we’ve been friends ever since.”

  “That had to be…unusual,” Ellie half stuttered.

  “For other judges, maybe, but not for Judge Creed. Sam does a lot behind the scenes for people who need help.”

  He glanced at Ellie. “Dalia is a member of my tribe.”

  “Did you know each other before the trial?” she asked.

  “Not really. I knew who she was, but that was about it.”

  “But now we’re friends.” She held up the bag. “Thanks for this. My boys will enjoy their dinner. I’ll be in as usual on Thursday. Nice to meet you, Rachel.”

  Dalia retrieved her belongings from the mudroom and left through the back door.

  “I feel like there’s an entire episode of Law and Order there.”

  Sam gave his half smile. “Good observation. Rudy was involved in drug trafficking, then upped the stakes when he tried smuggling guns into Canada. Dalia and the boys are better off without him.”

  “You’re looking out for her.”

  He shrugged. “She’s Umatilla.”

  “You’re a good man, Sam Creed.”

  ***

  Sam stood at the kitchen window, staring into the gathering darkness
beyond the glass. The previous week, a crew had replaced his cameras and installed new ones with infrared as well as recording capability. Every member of the US Marshal team had access to the app and helped monitor his property, and still they hadn’t been able to identify the guy who’d thrown the flashbang into his house. The cameras made him feel hemmed in, like his life wasn’t his own, but until they caught the person threatening him, both he and Ellie were safer.

  Gumbie rubbed against his leg and he reached down to pick up the cat and scratch her head.

  He wanted to go for a run or to the gym in town and work out. He needed to do something to ease the restlessness plaguing him. But if he went out he could count on Ellie coming with him, and since he attributed more than half of his restlessness to his insane attraction to her, that wouldn’t solve his problem.

  He also suffered from frustration on top of the restlessness, and that had to do with his brother. When he’d left the courthouse the night before, Sam had walked to the parking lot to find Drew waiting for him, leaning against the Land Cruiser, his behavior the usual mix of insolence and bitterness.

  “I need a loan, Sam.”

  That same stab of anger and frustration that almost choked him whenever he and Drew talked felt like a red-hot knife in his gut.

  “What are we talking about, a few hundred or a few thousand?”

  His brother’s pale blue eyes had burned with resentment. “I shouldn’t even have to ask. You’re holding on to money Dad left for me.”

  “You know the terms of the will. Dad worked his ass off for that money, and he didn’t want you to waste it. He wanted you to use it for something that would help you get ahead.”

  “What, like going to college like my big brother? Is that what he wanted?”

  “You could go to community college to learn business management so you could take over the ranch.”

  “You’re forgetting one little fact.” Drew’s face had twisted into a sneer. “You inherited the ranch, not me. I worked like a slave for years on that place, fucking gave my life to it. In the end the old man didn’t see me as his true son. You got the ranch and I got shit.”