by Marie Force
“Thank you for coming.” Curtis shook Michael’s hand and hugged Juliana. “We appreciate all the time you’ve spent with her. She thinks the world of you both.”
“We’ll pray for you all,” Juliana said.
“Thank you.”
Michael held Juliana’s hand as they emerged from the hospital to a burst of flashbulbs and shouted questions from reporters. They kept their heads down and followed the cops back to the car.
Michael stared out the window all the way home.
At two o’clock the next morning, again in an unmarked police car, Michael and Juliana were driven to Tom Houlihan’s oceanfront house at Dewey Beach. They arrived just after four, and though they went right to bed in the large master bedroom, neither of them could sleep after the emotional day. Under any other circumstances, Juliana would have been delighted to be staying in a house like the one Tom had made available to them, but her heart was heavy after seeing Rachelle.
She had called Mrs. Romanello to tell her they were leaving town for a week or so, and the older woman was relieved to hear that. Juliana had been almost startled to realize that other than her brother, who agreed to take care of their mother, there was no one else she needed to tell. No one else knew about her relationship with Michael.
That changed the next morning when a photo of them holding hands as they left the hospital appeared with a picture of the injured police officer on the front page of the Baltimore Sun. Unfortunately, video of them was also broadcast on CNN.
Before ten o’clock, Juliana fielded phone calls from her mother, her sister Serena in California, her brother Vincent, her co-worker Carol, and her high school friend Pam Newman. Everyone, except for Pam, who had seen her once before with Michael, had the same questions—what was she doing with the prosecutor in the Benedetti trial, where was she now, and what the hell was going on? While Michael dealt with his frantic parents on his cell phone, she evaded the questions from her family and friends, except to tell them she was safely out of town for the time being.
She had just hung up with Pam when the phone rang again. Juliana’s gut twisted with nerves when she saw it was Jeremy.
Ending the call with his parents, Michael walked over to her. “Who is it?”
“Jeremy.”
“You should talk to him. He’s probably freaking out.”
“Probably.” The phone beeped to indicate a message, which Juliana listened to.
“Juliana, it’s me.” He sounded frantic. “Jesus, babe, what’s going on up there? What are you doing with that guy? Where have I seen him before? Somewhere. I want you to call me. Right away. I’m going to call you every fifteen minutes until I talk to you.”
She turned off the phone and wandered over to the window to look out at the beach. Her stomach churned as it set in that Jeremy now knew there was someone else in her life, or he at least had strong reason to suspect it. He hadn’t figured out, though, that he’d seen Michael getting off the plane with her in Jacksonville.
Michael came up behind her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “What are you thinking about? Or do I not want to know?”
“I was deluding myself when I thought no one was going to get hurt, wasn’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I came up with the idea for this break from Jeremy, I thought we could lead separate lives for a few months and no one would get hurt.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “You couldn’t have known what would happen between us. Who could’ve predicted all this?”
“I need to call him.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to have to tell him you’re just a friend.” She turned to him. “You’re so much more to me. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Maybe you could tell him the truth? Would that be so awful, Juliana?”
“Not on the phone. I’ll talk to him in three weeks when I’m due to see him.”
“You’ll tell him about us?”
“I’m not sure yet what I’m going to tell him.”
Michael’s face fell with disappointment. “That means you still haven’t decided.”
“I’m not really thinking about it right now. There’ve been so many other things to think about.”
He nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Juliana went upstairs to the bedroom and closed the door. She dialed Jeremy’s cell phone, and he answered right away, as if he had been praying she would call.
“Jule?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Oh my God, what’s going on? I almost choked on my coffee when I saw the news this morning. Who’s that Maguire guy?”
“A friend of mine.”
“How do you know him?”
Juliana took a deep breath. “The prosecution hired me to cut the hair of the witness who was poisoned. She and I became friends. Needless to say, I’m terribly upset about what happened to her.”
“But you were holding hands with him. You looked like a couple.”
“We’re friends, Jer. It was a terrible day, and the media was all over us when we went to see her parents. He was just pulling me through the crowd. You don’t have to worry about anything right now. I’ll see you in three weeks, and we can talk then, okay?”
“Where have I seen him before? I know him from somewhere.”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you in danger?”
“No.”
“Jule?”
“Yeah?”
“Read my letters, will you?”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
“Bye, Jer.”
Juliana went back downstairs a few minutes later to find Michael engaged in a heated exchange with Paige.
“They’re not going to kill me. No, I’m not coming there.” He paused. “She’s my roommate. You know that. I don’t care what it looks like. I’ve told you, if there’s a baby, we’ll talk about it after the trial. Don’t you think I’ve got enough to think about right now? Fine. I’ll talk to you then.” He slapped the phone closed and shut it off. “That’s enough for now. How’d it go with Jeremy?”
“A lot like that, actually. But I think he’s pacified for now.”
“Paige saw the news, too. Her concerns about my safety gave her another opportunity to remind me she’s pregnant.”
“Did you check on Rachelle?”
He nodded. “They expect to release her in the next day or two.”
Juliana sat down next to him on the sofa and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Will you be able to secure a conviction without her testimony?”
He put his arm around her. “We’ve got her sworn testimony on videotape, and hopefully we can get it admitted. That’s going to have to be good enough. The case is strong without her testimony, but I’m less certain of a conviction without her.”
“Could you force her to testify?”
“Yes,” he said with a sigh, “but I’m not going to.”
“Maybe she’ll change her mind when she’s had a little time to recover.”
“I’m not counting on that.”
Sensing he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, she said, “Are you hungry?” The cops had been to the grocery store for them.
“No. I’m tired, though. Suddenly, I’m really tired.”
“Why don’t we lie down for a while?”
“Okay.”
They walked upstairs together, and Juliana closed the blinds in the big bedroom while he turned down the bed.
When they lay down, she snuggled into his embrace, her head resting on his chest. “Tom must be loaded to own a house like this.”
“He was a very successful corporate lawyer before he ran for state’s attorney,” Michael said.
“Must be nice to have a spare house at the beach. I wish I was in the mood to enjoy being stuck here.”
“I know,” he yawned.
“Want me to rub your back?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Sure. Turn over.”
He did as she asked and sighed when she kneaded the tension from his shoulders. “God, you’re good at that,” he groaned.
“Remember the other time I gave you a backrub? That was the first night we slept together.”
“Platonically, as I recall,” he said with a small smile that quickly faded. “That was the night before opening arguments. I’d give anything to go back to that night.” His eyes moistened and then closed. “I would’ve called Rachelle first, and none of this would’ve happened.”
Juliana kissed his cheek and rubbed his back until he finally drifted into restless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They fell into a routine at the beach. Juliana cooked for them, they took long walks—with cops trailing close behind—they played board games, and watched movies. On the third day they tuned in to a TV news special about the Benedetti trial.
“There’s Tom and his wife, Jane,” Michael said when the cameras followed them into the hospital to visit the family of Officer Brown, who was still in a coma.
“They look like Ken and Barbie.”
Michael smiled at her description. “They’re the perfect political couple. I hear he’s going to run for Maryland attorney general next year, and I have no doubt he’ll win unless we somehow fail to convict the Benedettis.”
“What would that mean for you?”
Michael shrugged. “He could take me with him to Annapolis, or I could work for the new state’s attorney if he or she wanted me. But I’ve been thinking about hanging up my prosecutor’s hat when this trial’s over.”
Juliana turned to him. “Really?”
“I’ve had enough. I was sort of reaching that point before this case—and this one’s just worn me out. I’m so sick of dealing with the dregs of society. You finish one hideous case, and there’s another one right behind it. Just when you think you’ve seen everything, you confront some other example of how evil mankind can be. Young victims, old victims, kids, babies, I’ve seen them all.” He shook his head. “No one’s immune. And no matter how well we do our jobs, the victims are never entirely satisfied because their lives are still in ruins. It’s like what Monique said—having the bad guys in jail doesn’t always matter to the victims the way you think it will. The person they lost is still dead. They were still raped or assaulted or burglarized. They’re always afraid. For the rest of their lives they’re afraid.”
Mesmerized, Juliana hung on his every word.
All of a sudden he seemed to realize he had said more than he’d meant to. “So it might be time for a change.”
“But you’re so good at it. I remember when I told my co-worker Carol that I’d met you on the airplane. She’s Timmy Sargant’s cousin.” Juliana referred to one of the slain teenagers. “Carol said you’d been so good to her aunt and uncle. I didn’t know you very well yet, but even then I could picture how wonderful you would’ve been with them.”
“That’s nice to hear. I try to always remember I work for the people, especially those who’ve been victimized. I just worry I’ll start to become immune to it all, that I won’t have any reaction when I see a baby without a head or a rape victim beaten to within an inch of her life.”
“I don’t think you could ever become immune to those things. That’s just not who you are.”
“Well, nothing’s going to happen right away. I meant it when I told Rachelle’s parents that going after the people who attacked her will be my top priority once the trial is over.”
A photo of Officer Brown flashed onto the TV screen.
“Remember Scott laughing at my haircut?” Michael asked.
Juliana nodded. “That seems like years ago rather than weeks.”
For the first time they also showed the poisoned pizza being delivered on videotape that had finally been released to the media.
Juliana gasped when she saw the deliveryman’s face. “Oh God, Michael! That’s him!” she sputtered. “The guy who talked to me on the street, the same one I saw in Newport!”
Michael sat up. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Positive.”
Michael went outside to have a word with the cops. He came back in a few minutes later looking pale.
“What?” Juliana asked. “What did they say?”
“They’ve identified him as Roberto Escalada. He’s a hired gun.”
“What does that mean?”
“They were planning to kill me,” he said haltingly, “but he must’ve never gotten the chance. He even followed us to Newport.”
Juliana’s hand flew to her mouth as she broke down.
“Baby, if they catch him…”
The look on his face stopped her heart. “What? Michael…”
“You’ll have to pick him out of a lineup. You’re the only one who’s actually seen him.”
“How can that be? He delivered the pizza…”
“He delivered it to Scott. If he doesn’t recover—”
“No, no,” she whispered as it set in that if she was the only one who could identify a killer, she would be in the same situation Rachelle had been in.
Michael put his arms around her and dropped his head onto her shoulder. “I’ve dragged you into a freaking nightmare.”
Shell-shocked, Juliana said, “Maybe there’s someone else who saw him. There were other cops at the hotel, weren’t there?”
He looked at her with shattered eyes and shook his head. “They were asleep.”
“What about people at the hotel?”
“No one remembers seeing him.”
“But I didn’t see him at the hotel,” she argued, pulling free of his embrace to pace the room.
“You can tie him to me and the trial and thus to the Benedettis. The tape puts him at the hotel.”
“You were with me in Newport. You saw him, too.”
“I didn’t see his face.”
“Maybe they won’t find him.”
“Then he gets away with poisoning Rachelle and Scott.”
“Oh, Michael,” she said, sobbing.
He went to her. “No one will ever hurt you. Not as long as I have a breath left in me.”
“I’m scared.”
He brushed away the tears on her cheeks. “When I went outside I asked them what they knew about the guy on the tape. I didn’t tell them you recognized him.”
“Why not?”
“I won’t involve you unless I absolutely have to—unless there’s no other way. Let’s just wait and see what happens.”
She nodded and rested against him as they absorbed yet another blow.
Michael went into caretaker mode that night. He grilled steaks and made salad for dinner, which he served with a bottle of wine he “borrowed” from Tom’s wine cellar. Juliana pushed the food around on her plate, and only when Michael urged her to eat did she make an attempt.
After dinner, he lit a dozen candles in the master bathroom and drew a bubble bath for her.
She was soaking in the big tub when he brought her another glass of wine.
“I could get used to this treatment.”
“That would be fine with me.” He leaned over to kiss her and then sat down next to the tub.
Extending a soapy hand to him, she laced her fingers through his and gave a tug.
He laughed. “You are not pulling me in there.”
“Come on.”
“Why don’t you come out here if you want to play?”
“Yeah?” she asked, realizing they hadn’t made love since Rachelle was attacked.
He pulled on her hand to encourage her out of the tub.
She stood up, covered with suds.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed.
“Michael! I’m all wet!”
“Perfect,” he said with a lecherous grin as he lowered himself down on top of her.
Laughing, she buried her hands in his hair and kissed him. When he came up for
air, she brushed the suds off his face. “You’re overdressed.” Reaching for his now-damp sweater, she pulled it off.
He filled his hands with her breasts and dipped his head to feast on her. “I must’ve been a very naughty boy,” he sputtered against her breast. “I’m getting my mouth washed out with soap.”
“You’re the one who wanted to skip the whole towel portion of the bath,” she reminded him. Her breath got caught in her throat when he rolled her nipple between his teeth. “Michael,” she sighed, pushing him onto his back and undressing him. She kissed her way from his chest to his belly. Wrapping her hand around his erection, she stroked him.
He closed his eyes and released a long deep breath when she took him into her mouth. “Oh, God, Juliana,” he said with a shudder.
She drove him to the brink with a combination of lips and tongue and teasing teeth. Then she straddled him and took him in.
Rolling her hips back and forth, the sensations were so intense, so overwhelming that she bit her lip to keep from crying out. When he reached for her breasts, a jagged, breathless cry of complete surrender escaped from her parted lips.
“Juliana.” His voice choppy and hoarse with emotion, he slid his hands down to her hips and came with a great cry of his own.
She slumped down on top of him.
“Just when I think it can’t get any better,” he whispered, closing his arms tight around her.
Brushing her lips over his, she said, “It gets better every time.”
“If it gets any better, we’re apt to spontaneously combust.”
She laughed and rested her head on his chest to listen to the rapid beat of his heart, reveling in the knowledge that only she had the power to do that to him.
Long after Michael fell asleep next to her, Juliana lay awake, afraid to close her eyes. Every time she did, she saw Roberto Escalada’s face. If he had tried to kill Rachelle, he could certainly come after her, too. The thought terrified her, and she was unable to control the trembling that shook her body.
“Baby, what’s the matter?” Michael asked, stifling a yawn.
“I’m scared.”
He pulled her tight against him. “I’m right here. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”