by Marie Force
He glanced at the disaster on his desk. “I’ve got a few things I could do.” With a kiss to her cheek he got up to weed out the messages that needed immediate attention. Then he rolled up his shirtsleeves and turned his attention to his e-mail. When Angela buzzed in with a call from a reporter, he told her to tell him “no comment.” He checked on Juliana and found her looking at him. “What?”
She smiled. “I like watching you work. Very sexy.”
“The book, Juliana. You’re distracting me.”
“You’re easily distracted.”
“I’m always distracted when I’m with you.”
“The computer, Michael,” she said, mocking his tone. “You’re distracting me.”
He grinned and turned back to his computer.
Juliana went through the book twice but didn’t see anyone she recognized. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for trying.” He got up and came around to her. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”
“I’m going to clean my mother’s house.”
“You’re good to her. She’s lucky to have you.”
Juliana shrugged. “You do what you have to.”
He hugged and kissed her. “I should be home early.”
“Good. I’ll make something for dinner.”
“Mmm,” he said against her lips. “I can’t wait.”
“Are you okay?”
“I am now that I’ve seen you. Somehow you manage to make everything better.” With one last kiss, he walked her out to meet her police detail.
Chapter 22
The night before Rachelle was due to testify Michael lay awake while Juliana slept with one arm wrapped around him.
As the clock edged toward four, he thought about how badly he wanted this trial to be over. After tomorrow, the prosecution would rest. The defense would take a week, maybe two, to present its case, followed by closing arguments and jury deliberation.
Everything had gone perfectly so far. The detectives and ballistics witnesses had been unshakable. The kids who witnessed the fight between the victims and the Benedettis in the arcade had been nervous, but they managed to get through their testimony and presented a cohesive, consistent story that established a firm motive.
Based on the reports of the consultants who tracked jurors’ body language, Michael had won them over thus far. But it was Rachelle’s testimony that would ensure a win. She really was his “slam dunk.” No way would the jury fail to convict after they heard her chilling account, or so he hoped.
Michael had spoken to her the previous evening. She had been subdued, but she’d assured him she was ready—to testify and to put the whole ordeal behind her. After she appeared in court, a police escort would deliver her and her mother to a private jet that would take them to their new life in St. Louis, Missouri, where they would be reunited with Rachelle’s father and brothers.
Juliana stirred and rested her cheek on his shoulder. The T-shirt of his that she had worn to bed had ridden up, so he laid his hand on her warm back and pulled her closer to him.
In her sleep, she curled around him and sighed.
How did I ever live before her? How will I ever live without her if she chooses Jeremy over me? She won’t. She can’t. Not after everything we’ve shared and been through together. She’ll stay with me. The alternative was unimaginable. He was doing his best not to think at all about Paige and the possibility that she could be pregnant. He would deal with that once the trial was finished and not one minute before. If she was in fact pregnant, she still would be after the trial.
Michael must have dozed off because he was jarred awake by the ringing of the phone just after six.
“Mm, Maguire,” he said, struggling to wake up.
“Michael!” His co-worker George Samuels’s frantic tone got Michael’s full attention.
“George? What’s wrong?”
“Jesus Christ, Michael, they’ve been poisoned!” George cried.
Michael sat up. “Who has? What’re you talking about?” His gut clenched when he remembered assigning George to stay at the hotel in Annapolis so he could escort Rachelle to court in the morning.
“Rachelle, the cops, all of them,” George whispered.
Michael released an anguished wail.
“Michael!” Juliana said. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He fought through growing hysteria to ask, “Is she dead?”
“No, but she’s really sick. One of the cops is in a coma.”
“Call me as soon as you know more.”
Michael put down the phone and dropped his head into his hands. “God,” he whispered. “Oh my God.”
“Michael, you’re scaring me,” Juliana said. “What’s wrong?”
He reached for her hand. “Rachelle’s been poisoned,” he said. “George said she’s really sick.”
Juliana inhaled sharply. “No!”
Michael drew her into his arms, and they held each other until the persistent ringing of his cell phone reminded him of the job he still had to do. “I’ve got to find out what happened.” He pulled the covers up over Juliana’s trembling body and reached for his cell phone.
“Yeah,” he said softly.
“Michael,” Tom Houlihan said, his tone grim.
“How did this happen, Tom? How in the world did they get to her?”
“Their food was poisoned. Probably arsenic.”
“Arsenic?” Michael asked in disbelief.
“Her mother found them, Michael. She’s out of her mind.”
“Oh, God, I promised her this would never happen! I gave her my word!”
Juliana sat up and put her arms around Michael from behind. He reached down to clutch her hand.
“You did everything you could to keep her safe,” Tom said. “We all did.”
“Clearly, we didn’t do enough. Where do I need to be?”
“Stay put for now. I’m on my way to the hospital. I don’t want you anywhere near there, not after they’ve already come at you once.”
“She’s my witness. I need to be there.”
“No. Stay there until you hear from me, you got it?”
“All right.” After he hung up Michael lay down next to Juliana. “I should’ve put her on first. She would’ve been long gone by now.” He blinked back tears. “Why didn’t I put her on first and get her the hell out of here?”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Michael. This isn’t your fault.”
“I could’ve prevented it.”
“No. They were determined.”
“I don’t even know what I should do right now.”
“Should you go to the office?”
“Tom told me to stay here. He’s really scared now. I could hear it in his voice.”
“Michael,” Juliana whimpered, her lips brushing over his hair. “What if they try to hurt you, too?”
“What if they try to hurt you?” He got up abruptly. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you was going to happen.” Stalking into the bathroom, he slammed the door.
Juliana rolled her face into the pillow and thought about Rachelle who dreamed of having a boyfriend and wanted to see her father and brothers again. Juliana prayed harder than she ever had before for her young friend, a girl who had shown more courage in her fifteen years than most people did in a lifetime.
Michael came out of the bathroom, his hair wet and his face shaved. He put on a suit and was knotting his tie when he came over to sit next to her on the bed.
“I want you to take a leave of absence from the salon for at least a week,” he said in a flat tone she had never heard before. His eyes were dull with shock. “Call your brother and tell him you won’t be able to take care of your mother. I want you to stay home until we get a handle on what’s happened. I just can’t deal with worrying about you right now. If they’ve been watching us, then they know by now that you’re my weak spot. I know it’s a big thing for me to ask and that you can’t afford it, but I’ll take care of a
nything you need. Will you do this for me, Juliana? Please?”
“Of course. Where are you going?”
“To the hospital.”
“But your boss told you to stay here.”
His jaw clenched with tension. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
She reached up to caress his face. “Don’t shut me out, Michael. Let me help you.”
He got up. “There’s nothing you can do. Just stay here. I’ll be back.”
She heard him go downstairs, activate the alarm, and shut the front door. The phone rang not a minute after he left.
“This is Tom Houlihan. May I speak to Michael please?
“He went to the hospital.”
“Damn it! I told him to stay home.”
“He’s very upset. He felt like he needed to do something.”
“All right.”
“Mr. Houlihan?” Juliana swallowed hard. “Is she suffering?”
“She’s been vomiting for the last hour, but she seems to be doing better now. They got her to the hospital before any permanent damage was done.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“I’ll call Michael’s cell,” he said. “Thank you.”
Juliana dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She tugged on sweats and a T-shirt and went downstairs to make coffee. The story was all over the TV news. Reporters and legal analysts predicted Michael would request a continuance of the trial until he figured out how to proceed with his star witness in the hospital.
“Luckily,” one talking head said, “the jury was sequestered earlier in the week, so they won’t hear about this.”
“Will the defense move for a mistrial anyway?”
“I think they’ll try, but Judge Stein is tough. If he can find any way to finish this trial he will.”
“Will the jury be told of the attack on the witness?” the anchor asked the legal expert.
“Since it would color the current proceedings—unfavorably for the defense—the jury won’t hear about today’s events until after they’ve reached a verdict.”
“To recap,” the anchor said, “the star witness for the prosecution in the Benedetti murder trial was poisoned in an Annapolis hotel room where she was being held in protective custody. A Baltimore police officer is in critical condition from what police believe was arsenic poisoning. The fifteen-year-old city girl is the lone witness to the shootings of three Baltimore teenagers last year. She was due to testify this morning in Baltimore City Circuit Court. The girl and three members of her police detail, sickened by a poisonous substance, were discovered by the girl’s mother just before six o’clock this morning. Two of the officers were treated and released. Chief of Police Dennis Noonan and Baltimore City State’s Attorney Tom Houlihan will hold a joint press conference within the hour. We’ll bring it to you live.”
Juliana muted the television and called the salon. Apologizing for all the rescheduling the administrative staff would have to do on her behalf, she explained to one of the owners that she’d had a personal emergency and needed some time off. Since Juliana rarely asked for anything, her boss granted the unusual request.
“Take as much time as you need, Juliana. I hope everything’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
Next she called Mrs. Romanello to assure her that she was safe despite this latest development in the trial.
“Did you know this girl? The one who was poisoned?”
“Yes,” Juliana whispered. “She’s adorable, the most wonderful kid. Michael and I love her very much.”
“I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing. You know you both can come here if you need to, right?”
“Thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Be safe, hon.”
Juliana put the phone down and tuned into the press conference. Michael and Tom stood behind Chief Noonan, their faces grim with fatigue and anger.
“This morning the entire city of Baltimore is praying for a decorated police officer and a fifteen-year-old girl who were attacked while in service to this city.” Chief Noonan paid glowing tribute to the career of the injured police officer. His photo was shown as the chief talked about him.
Juliana gasped when she recognized Scott Brown, the officer who had laughed at Michael’s haircut.
The chief paused for a moment to collect himself. “I know there will be a quick rush to judgment in this case, but I urge everyone to let the detectives do their jobs. We’ll find the person or persons who perpetrated this crime and we’ll bring them to justice. I’ll let Mr. Houlihan give his statement, and then we’ll take a few questions.”
Tom stepped to the microphone. “The witness to the shootings is a brave, spirited, intelligent girl with an amazing zest for life. Every one of us who has worked with her has been forever touched by her amazing courage under the most trying of circumstances. We know that courage and determination will get her through this crisis as well. The hearts and prayers of everyone in my office are with her and her family this morning.”
“Can you give us her name?” a reporter shouted.
“In an effort to protect her and her family from further recrimination, we’ll be maintaining her anonymity,” Tom replied.
Juliana’s heart broke as she watched Michael look down in a failed attempt to hide his anguish.
“We will not rest until justice is served on behalf of these victims.”
Reporters began shouting out questions the moment Tom stepped back from the microphone.
“Chief, how do you know it was arsenic?”
“A variety of common symptoms.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“No.”
“What’s the theory on how the poison was delivered to the victims?”
“We’re checking the room service and take-out delivery logs to see what they ate, when it was delivered, and by whom. We had video cameras in the hallway and the hotel rooms. Those tapes are currently being reviewed.”
“What hospital is the witness in?”
“No comment.”
“Do you have any word on her condition?”
“Her injuries are not considered life threatening.”
“Do you believe the Benedettis are responsible for this attack?”
“No comment.”
“Mr. Houlihan, what’re the odds of a mistrial?”
“We don’t believe there will be a mistrial, but that’ll be up to Judge Stein after he’s heard arguments from both sides.”
“Mr. Maguire, can you comment on your ability to secure a conviction without the witness’s testimony?”
Tom gestured for Michael to take the question. Michael cleared his throat. “I’m hopeful she’ll make a full recovery and be able to testify. We’ll request a continuance until she’s recovered.”
“How well do you know the witness, Mr. Maguire?”
“Very well,” Michael said softly. The room quieted while the reporters waited for him to go on.
Juliana swiped at tears as she watched him struggle to find the words he needed to pay tribute to his young friend.
“She’s a terrific kid. Like Tom said, all of us who’ve worked with her have grown to care for her very much.”
“That’s all for now,” Chief Noonan said. “We’ll keep you informed of any developments.”
The news cut away from the press conference for more in-studio analysis, but Juliana had heard enough. She turned off the television, put down her coffee cup, and curled up on the sofa, thinking of Rachelle and her Queen Bee T-shirt, her love of fashion, the way her face had lit up when Juliana cut her hair, the story she had told about the night that changed her life forever, her adorable crush on Michael, and her haunting last words to Juliana. “I think you belong with Michael,” she had said before saying good-bye. Not her usual “be cool” or “lata, gata.” No, she’d said good-bye, as if she had somehow known that something might happen.
The house phone rang, and Juliana got up to answer it.
> “Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“Your boyfriend’s next, Juliana,” the caller said in a raspy voice.
The phone went dead.
Juliana screamed and dropped the phone. She ran for the door, and with shaking fingers she punched in the code to deactivate the alarm. In light of the day’s events, her police detail had moved from across the street to the sidewalk outside the front door.
“Juliana, what is it?”
In a halting voice, Juliana told them about the call. She pleaded with them to find Michael and warn him of the threat. One of the officers reached for his shoulder microphone to report it.
“You’ll tell Michael’s detail?” she asked the officer who escorted her back inside.
“Yes, my partner’s taking care of it.”
“He knew my name,” Juliana whimpered. “They know my name.” She jolted when the phone rang again.
The police officer answered it. “Hello? Yes, she’s right here.” He handed the phone to Juliana. “It’s Mr. Maguire.”
“Juliana,” he said, sounding panic-stricken, “tell me exactly what he said.”
“He said, ‘Your boyfriend’s next, Juliana.’ He knew my name, Michael.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Be careful.” Tears fell from eyes already swollen from crying. “Please be careful.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 23
Michael rushed through the door twenty minutes later.
Juliana was so relieved to see him that she burst into tears as he wrapped his arms around her.
The police officer who had waited with her returned to his post outside, closing the front door behind him.
“Okay, baby.” Michael smoothed a hand over her hair. “It’s okay.”
“They’re going to kill you, Michael!” Juliana knew she sounded hysterical but didn’t care.
“Killing me won’t stop the trial. They know that.”
She wiped her face. “What about the call? What he said?”
“They’re just trying to scare me. And you.”