Marked (Tortured Heroes Book 3)

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Marked (Tortured Heroes Book 3) Page 4

by Jayne Blue


  Chapter Four

  Jillian

  “Jillian!” Rhonda rarely called me by my first name. It wasn’t something I demanded of her, but rather at her insistence. But the way she said it made me step back. Rhonda looked at me with cold fury. Her dark eyes shone as she leveled a searing stare at me. She stood with her legs parted and her hands on her hips.

  “Don’t start,” I said. “I mean it. That man is rude, arrogant, and presumptuous.”

  “He’s also the best the Marshals Service has. Do you hear what I’m telling you? The. Best. They. Have. Believe me, I wouldn’t say that if it weren’t true. It straight up kills me to admit if you want to know the truth.”

  It was my turn to put my hands on my hips. “I find that hard to believe. I thought you were the best that they have.” I’d hoped the last bit would soften her. Rhonda was one of the only allies I had in this building and the last thing I wanted to do was upset her. But she wasn’t the one about to have her life turned upside down.

  “Judge, twenty minutes ago you were covered in white powder reading a note that said ‘Die Bitch.’ You haven’t forgotten that already, have you? You’re in trouble whether you like it or not. Now, what’s going to happen is you and I are both going to calm down. We’re going to get you checked out by a doctor, and then we’re going to have a serious discussion about what’s in your best interests. You’re terrific out there on the bench, but when it comes to your own personal safety, your decision-making could use a little help. It’s my job to provide it. And it’s high time you started to let me.”

  I put my hands up, palms out and took a step back. The last thing I wanted to do was fight with Rhonda. But Ray Huckman had to go. No matter how good he was, watching his backside as he walked away from me was probably the best thing that happened to me today.

  There had been a moment there that could have cost me so much. I was scared. Truly scared. I’d tried not to let him or Rhonda see. He’d stood so close to me as I nearly had a meltdown right in front of him. I’d scrubbed my hands and face so hard I could still feel the sting of the soap against my skin. It wasn’t the powder. Like they did, I knew the odds of it being something truly scary like Anthrax were slim. Whoever sent it had just wanted to rattle me and it killed me that for those few moments at least, they had.

  Then there was Ray Huckman. He’d stood so close to me, sure and strong, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I imagined guys like him were used to women folding themselves in his arms and believing every word that came out of that full, sexy mouth of his. When he kissed them with that mouth, they probably melted into a puddle of goo. I could imagine that. I could imagine a lot. Big hands. Hard muscles. Pretty words. I wouldn’t be some damsel in distress, that’s for damn sure. There were enough people in this building alone who were just waiting for me to fall on my face. Running scared at the first sign of trouble would ruin me. All the fuss and attention these threats brought with them made me look weak. I couldn’t give any of them fodder to say I couldn’t handle this job. I didn’t need round-the-clock protection. I couldn’t look scared in front of any of them. If I did, I’d never have control of my own courtroom again. That little stunt Jerry Jordan tried to pull would be just the beginning.

  Rhonda rode with me to U of M Hospital. I hated that she made a fuss and hated it even more that I got any kind of VIP treatment. But she’d arranged to have two FBI agents meet us there and we were ushered back to a private room. A young doctor with a kind face took my medical history, shined a scope into my eyes, nose, and throat, listened to my lungs, then gave me an antihistamine and a prescription for some antibiotics pending the lab results on the powder. About five people including Rhonda assured me I had nothing to worry about where that was concerned. I wasn’t. They thought my agitation stemmed from the whole incident. It didn’t. The truth was, I bloody well couldn’t get Ray “Huck” Huckman out of my mind.

  He saw me. I don’t even think he realized it, but for those few moments in the bathroom, he saw me. I let myself be just a little bit weak in front of him and that can’t happen. If I lost control even a little, I might never get it back.

  Rhonda was waiting for me in the parking lot when I finished up with the doctor. “I’ll call a car, Rhonda, you don’t have to miss any more time with your family tonight because of me. Gemma has taken care of rescheduling my afternoon docket. Go home. Have that big, sexy man of yours make you a great dinner. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rhonda crossed her arms in front of her again and tapped her foot. “Get in the car, Judge. I’m going to see you home. My job’s not done until I get you inside your front door safe and sound.”

  I sighed. Rhonda didn’t just want to drive me. She wanted to interrogate me again. I put my hands up in surrender and slid into the passenger seat of her SUV. She got in, gripped the wheel, then turned to me.

  “Do you trust me?” she asked.

  I blinked back. “You know I do. With my life.”

  Rhonda put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space. She didn’t say anything right away, just let out a series of hard exhales that let me know she was working herself up to something. Something she knew I wouldn’t like to hear.

  After a few minutes of fighting rush-hour traffic, she pulled into the driveway of my townhouse. The place was entirely too big for just me, but it sat on a hill overlooking the Huron River and had one of the best views in town. A view I’d paid a small fortune for. The fall colors had peaked just this week. From every window I could see the blazing orange, deep red, and warm gold leaves on the oak and maple trees that dotted the landscape.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, give me your house key, Judge,” Rhonda asked. “Let me go in and make sure everything is okay inside.”

  “Are you sure that’s necessary?” I handed her my keys as she gave me another hard stare.

  Rhonda stepped out of the car and bounded up my front porch steps. I’d let her in before so she knew what to expect. Since I’d bought the place a year ago, she was the only other person I’d let inside. I don’t think she even knew that. Two minutes went by before she opened the front door again and flashed me an okay sign. I let out a breath and headed for the front door.

  “You know,” Rhonda said, “we can call a service for you.”

  My heels clacked against the oak floors as I followed her down the foyer hallway and into the living room. My kitchen was toward the back of the house and opened into a terraced sitting room. The living room had high, arched ceilings. The winding staircase on the north side of the room led to the second-floor bedrooms and a balcony. I had a white, L-shaped couch in the living room, a flat screen TV along one wall, and a glass coffee table in the center of the room. The rest of my furniture was still in storage back in Petoskey. The stacked cardboard boxes along the other three walls of the living room drew her eye. I suppose to anyone else they seemed daunting and maybe a little crazy.

  “I’ll get to those in my own time, thanks.” I said. Rhonda knew me well enough to let it lie there. “And thanks for seeing me home. If you don’t mind, I’m tired now. I’m going to turn in early. I’ll need to do twice as much tomorrow to catch up after today’s drama.”

  Rhonda gave me a nod but sat down on the couch. She motioned for me to sit next to her. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and hung her head as I sank into the couch. “Judge, you can’t fire Ray Huckman and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Rhonda, this discussion is over. I’m happy with the protection you provide. I don’t need anything else. I’m fine. Today was just a hiccup.”

  “Judge, you’re not fine. And I’m not good enough. You need round-the-clock protection by someone with more field training than I have. And you need to understand what’s been going on.”

  She swiped her finger over her phone screen and handed it to me. Some of the images I recognized. They were threatening letters written to me. They all had the same general theme calling for my death in one horrible
manner or the other. But as I kept swiping, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. There were dozens. With each one, the threats became more graphic and hate-filled. Letter after letter. Many of them described what I was wearing or something I’d said from the bench. Whoever this creep was, he had been watching me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  Rhonda took the phone back from me. “Since a few months after you were sworn in.”

  “But this is normal, right? I mean, all judges get threats like these. It comes with the territory.”

  Rhonda nodded. “Not like this. Not this intense.”

  “Why did you keep it from me?”

  Rhonda chewed her bottom lip. “That wasn’t my call, I’m afraid. At first, nobody thought much of it. Like you said, everyone gets these from time to time. And you’re new to this. Most of the rest of the judges on the bench down here have served in state court before coming here. They’re used to it along with the prosecutors. Somebody up there decided you might not stick around if you knew. I didn’t agree. But the FBI seems to think this is coming from one person and that’s gotten their attention. Plus you know there have been the threatening phone calls. Then today. Whoever this is, it’s starting to escalate.”

  “Do you want me to be scared?”

  Rhonda slapped her hand against her knee. “Truth? Yeah. A little. Because I am. Judge, I’ve been doing this for twenty years. Before you, I’ve been with half a dozen other judges. I’ve never seen anything this persistent, with this much venom. We have to take it seriously. Until the Bureau gets a handle on it, you need protection. Not just at the courthouse. You need it here too and everywhere else you go. Now, I’m not even supposed to show you these. If they find out I did, sure as hell I’ll probably be reassigned.”

  “No!” My voice came out harder, more forceful than I meant. “Rhonda. No. I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “Well, I appreciate that. I truly do. But if you do trust me, it has to be all the way. And I’m telling you, you need Ray Huckman. Believe me, I wish you didn’t. I find him arrogant as hell too. His reputation on the job is impeccable. His reputation outside of it is, well …”

  “Scandalous,” I offered.

  Rhonda smiled. “I was gonna say messy. But yes. Let’s just say he’s known as a ladies’ man and some of his methods ruffle feathers. He has an unorthodox style. But I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he was the right man for this job. You need someone a little unorthodox.”

  A cold sweat formed between my breasts and the air seemed to grow thicker. Rhonda told me a lot, but there was so much more she wasn’t saying. She knew me. At least as well as anyone I worked with ever did. As much as I was willing to let her in. I think even she knew what a leap of faith it was for me to let her into my home. To her credit, she made no other comment besides offering to set me up with a service to unpack the rest of my things.

  Unorthodox. There was a word. One I hated. I wanted order. Predictability. Control. From the second Ray Huckman crossed the threshold of my office and walked into my life, I felt a little like I’d stepped onto a tilt-a-whirl. He unsettled me. Even though he’d done nothing more than be there and tell me what to do when I opened that goddamned envelope. But there was something about him. Messy. That’s what Rhonda called it. I felt in my bones that my life could get messy and out of order if I chose to let Ray Huckman into it.

  “Judge.” Rhonda leaned in closer and put a hand on my knee. I think she sensed the turmoil behind my eyes. My heartbeat thumped like tiny rabbit feet. The cold sweat between my breasts spread until my whole body nearly trembled from it. “I swear to you, I wouldn’t even suggest this if I didn’t think it was necessary. But it is. You’re in danger. This isn’t just garden variety disgruntled litigants. There’s someone out there who wants to do you harm and has enough access to make trouble. We need Ray. I wish we didn’t. But we do.”

  “I can’t.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The rabbit feet in my chest turned into a timpani drum.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Rhonda’s tone was soft, her eyes clear. “We’ll get through this. Then you can get back to the business of being the best damn judge we have on the bench.”

  “You’re sure it has to be him?”

  Rhonda leaned back and smiled. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he was the best. You need someone like him. He’ll be able to see angles that you and I miss. He’s rough. He’ll do a good job. And more importantly, he’ll keep you safe.”

  Safe. Everything about Ray Huckman screamed danger. From his sexy swagger to those steely blue eyes that seemed to tear right through me. Letting him in, letting him close was going to cost me something. It was a price I wasn’t sure I was ready to pay. But the one person I trusted most in the world was sitting here telling me I had no choice. I closed my eyes slowly, exhaled, then looked at Rhonda straight on.

  “Okay. I’ll trust you. If you say Huckman is our guy, then let’s go with Huckman.”

  Rhonda smiled and nodded. “Good. I’ll call him right now. I just hope it’s not already too late.”

  Chapter Five

  Huck

  “You’re late.” A pair of dark brown eyes narrowed into a death stare as the door swung open.

  “Fuck you too, Chandler,” I said, pushing past him. I slapped a case of beer against his chest as I came through the door. “You’re lucky I was willing to drive all the way down to Buckeye country to this shithole as it was. Where’re the rest of the ladies?”

  “Basement,” Chandler called out after me. I was already on my way down. Rick Chandler worked for the Marshals Service like I did but down in Southern Ohio near Columbus. Every other month, we got together with a few other guys we’d accumulated through various law enforcement conventions we all got forced to frequent. Good guys, all of them. Each one of us looked forward to getting together to unwind, though our number was dwindling. Back in the old days, we’d have poker tournaments that could last into the next morning. But over the years, guys got transferred or married, retired or worse. Tonight, there would only be four of us and the game was Euchre.

  Rick slapped me on the back as he followed me down the stairs. “Glad you could make it, man. We were starting to worry.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” I said. The truth was, I had for the last couple of months. Work got in the way. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took the last step into Rick’s basement. An avid Ohio State fan, his walls were painted scarlet and gray and he had a life-size cut-out of Woody Hayes against the back wall. His damn eyes followed you wherever you went.

  “’Bout time you got here, asshole,” Kyle Duvall shouted out. He sat at one end of Rick’s wooden card table. “You’re stuck with me as a partner.”

  I laughed. “I should probably just burn my money now.”

  Kyle shot me a middle finger in between shuffling the deck of cards. I reached across the table and shook his hand. “You look like shit, man,” I said. God, he did. Kyle worked for the FBI. It was damn good to see him. He’d been away from our semi-monthly card games longer than I had. Though none of us ever talked much about the cases we worked on, I heard through the grapevine he’d been deep undercover with some biker gang up north. By the looks of him, he might still be in the middle of it. He was a big dude, like me. His dark hair hung low past his brow and he still sported a full beard. Kyle had a haggard, haunted look in his eyes that I knew all too well. This job, no matter where you served, aged you.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m still prettier than you though.”

  I took a swig of my beer. It was good and cold going down. Rick took his seat to my left. To my right, rounding out our foursome, was Ben Killian. Ben was the only local cop in our bunch. He worked special enforcement, or SWAT, for a mid-sized department just outside of Toledo. Ben reached over and gave me a knuckle knock as Kyle finished dealing.

  We played a
few hands. Kyle and I started to run away with the points. As usual, Rick grumbled the most. We settled into a mostly silent rhythm that all of us needed, maybe Kyle most of all. I wouldn’t ask him what made his eyes look like that. None of us would. We all knew what each other went through on any given day. It was just good to be in the company of other guys who did. After about an hour though, the conversation drifted to work like it always did. We needed that too.

  “Sounds like you’re gonna get good news on the Wayne shooting,” Rick said. My shoulders tightened for a fraction of a second and I took another long, slow drink from a fresh beer.

  I nodded. “Wasn’t really losing any sleep over it.”

  “Good,” Kyle said. “Cuz that one made news all the way over in my neck of the woods. That little shit was connected with some bad dudes. Dope and guns, it sounds like.”

  I shrugged. “Not anymore.”

  A look passed between Kyle and Rick I didn’t like. “What?” I asked, slapping my cards down.

  Rick put his down next. “Take it easy. Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Top brass wanted the stink from that one to stick on you. We all knew it was total bullshit. Wayne escaped custody near Philly and made it all the way back to Michigan before they called you up.”

  “Great, well, tell that to Terry Loomis. They wanted him to bench my ass all the way to Ann Arbor.” I waited for a crack about the Wolverines from Rick but he didn’t bite. Instead, he just picked up his cards again and started to rearrange them.

  “So.” Ben perked up. “Yeah. We heard about that too. Heard you got a babysitting gig up at the Federal courthouse. How’s that going?”

  Sheeit. There were no fucking secrets. No matter what department you worked on, they all gossiped like a bunch of teenage girls. In Ben’s case, I knew he worked on a couple of federal task forces so it wasn’t hard to figure out how that one spread.

  “It’s not,” I said, finishing my beer. Since yesterday, I’d replayed those last few seconds with Judge Key over and over in my head. Every instinct in me was telling me to stay right there, throw her over my damn shoulder, and carry her to the hospital like some sort of caveman. Fuck. Even now, the idea of doing just that got my blood humming. But then there was the job. I knew I could never carry it out if that woman wouldn’t cooperate. So, though my heart and heated blood told me to stay, my head told me to get far away as fast as I could. Let some other schmuck deal with her. My fists tightened at the thought of anyone else getting close to her. That was the other reason why I knew stepping back was the smart thing to do.

 

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