by Marie Force
“He’s out there somewhere. He might even be outside right now, and we’d never know it.”
“There’re cops all over the place.”
“Rachelle had cops with her, too.”
“Do you know what I realized earlier?”
She turned to look at him. “What?”
He rested the palm of his hand on her face. “That if you hadn’t moved in when you did and had the confrontation on the street with Escalada, I never would’ve asked for police protection. I’d probably be dead by now without you.”
Her eyes burned with tears. “I came so close to leaving that day.”
Leaning over to kiss her, he said, “I’m so glad you stayed, for many, many reasons, but I hate that I’ve put you in so much danger.”
“There’s one thing I still don’t understand.”
He yawned again. “What’s that?”
“Why would they want to kill you? I mean, I know they see you as the guy who’s single-handedly trying to put them in jail, but they have to know someone else would take over the case if they killed you. So why bother?”
“Well, no one else knows the case the way I do, so they’d have a definite advantage with a new prosecutor. They might’ve also been aiming to bring about a mistrial.”
“But why? They’re already in jail, so what’s in it for them to delay it? Wouldn’t it be better for them to get it over with and maybe get off and out of jail sooner?”
“There’s almost no way they’re going to get off. Even without Rachelle, the case is very strong. They know that.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Michael thought about that for a moment. “Unless…”
“What?”
He sat up. “Unless they’re planning something big and needed to buy some time to get their shit together.” Getting up, he tugged on his jeans.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to call Tom. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Michael’s late-night phone call to Tom Houlihan set off a full search of the city jail where the Benedettis were being held during the trial. Both their cells were tossed, all the common areas were torn apart, drains were even removed from shower stalls, but nothing suspicious was found. The search succeeded only in further shredding Michael’s already frazzled nerves.
He couldn’t figure out what the defendants might be up to. Since the rock sailed through the window at his house, the judge had suspended their visitation rights, forbidden the brothers to have any contact with each other in jail, and revoked their phone and mail privileges. If they were planning something, Michael had no idea how they were managing to do it.
He spent most of the morning on the phone with his office, discussing their trial strategy in light of the week’s developments. Thankfully, they had videotaped Rachelle’s sworn statement, and Michael planned to introduce it as evidence. The defense would object on the grounds that they couldn’t cross-examine videotape, but because he videotaped her under oath with a court reporter taking a transcript, Michael was going to try it.
While Michael was upstairs on the phone, Juliana went through the mail she picked up earlier in the week at her house. She paid the bills from the joint account she shared with Jeremy and sorted out the junk mail until only his two letters sat unopened on her lap.
All morning she had tried not to think about what might be ahead for her if she had to identify Rachelle’s killer. The girl was headed for the witness protection program. Juliana wondered if that’s what would happen to her if she had to identify and testify against Escalada. She let her mind wander to the possibility that she could end up living anonymously in some strange place.
The idea wasn’t without benefits—no more dealings with her dysfunctional family and a whole new life where no one knew her. Naturally, she wondered who would be with her in this fictional scenario. Did either of the two men in her life love her enough to give up their whole world to keep her safe? If right now, today, she had to pick one of them to accompany her into anonymity, which one would she choose? The answer came to her without a moment’s hesitation. Michael. She would choose Michael.
A feeling of peace settled over her as she understood that at some point during the last few weeks, she had made a decision. Jeremy was her past. Michael was her future. He had asked her to marry him, and in the next few weeks, after she ended her relationship with Jeremy for good, she would be able to say yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Michael.
She wanted to run upstairs and tell him, but she had things to resolve before she could do that, and so did he. If Paige really was pregnant, he would have to deal with it before much longer. He’d have a child with another woman. They would handle that somehow. After everything they had already been through together, there was no doubt in Juliana’s mind they would get through that, too. He didn’t love Paige anymore, but he would love their child, and Juliana would give him her full support.
Energized by her decision, she felt ready to read Jeremy’s letters and to keep them in proper perspective. She checked the postmarks to see which one came first and opened it. He had written it on his company’s letterhead.
[LTR]
Dear Jule,
I’m sitting here at work and I’m supposed to be figuring out why two of my circuits are down, but all I can think about is you. I’m wondering what you’re doing right now. It’s Tuesday morning, so I’m picturing you at the salon making someone beautiful. You’ve always been so good at that. Remember when we were in high school and you gave everyone haircuts all the time? We’d end up at someone’s house after a football game. When I’d go looking for you, you’d usually be in the bathroom giving one of our friends a trim. That was even before you’d been to school for it!
I like thinking back to those days, when we first knew each other and all we thought about was finding time to be alone together. I remember looking for you in the stands during football games. Sometimes thinking about being with you after the game would be so distracting I’d forget what I was supposed to be doing on the field. The only times I really screwed up playing football were because of you—so there’s something you never knew! Even back then, you had such an ability to invade my thoughts and distract me. Ten years later, nothing’s changed, babe. Here I am, all grown up with a real job, but I’m at work thinking about the same girl who drove me crazy when I was playing high school football. How many guys can say that?
The other day I was driving home and I heard that Peter Gabriel song we’ve always loved. “Your Eyes.” He says he’s complete when he can see her eyes. It’s so true—I never realized just how true it was until you weren’t here anymore. I keep reminding myself this is temporary, but I worry that maybe it’s not, that maybe I hurt you so badly, nothing I do will ever fix it.
I’ve had far too much time to think over the last month. I think about all the tough stuff we dealt with when your parents were still together. Like the night they had that big fight and the neighbors called the cops. I can still remember the way you sounded when you called and asked me to come get you. I took you home with me, and you were so upset that my mother didn’t even care that you slept with me in my room. It was the first night we ever slept in the same bed. My mother has always loved you, Jule. She’s been after me for years to marry you. I should’ve listened to her. If I had I wouldn’t be in the mess I’m in now with you. Anyway, I remember waking up with you that next morning and being so thankful you’d called me when you needed me. I’ve always hated how your family treats you like their own personal Cinderella, but you know I could write another whole letter on that subject!
Well, I’d better get back to work. I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you and hoping we can find our way through this. Nothing in my world makes sense without you by my side. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. I love you,
Jeremy
PS—Are you okay for money? If you need any
, you know where it is. There’s plenty in the Bank of America account. What’s mine is yours.
[END LTR]
Juliana wiped away the tears that flowed as she read his heartfelt letter. She was almost reluctant to read the second one, but she opened it because she promised him she would.
[LTR]
Dear Jule,
I had an awful day today. I wish I could call you and tell you about it the way I used to. I can’t seem to do anything but wish I was with you, so of course I’m screwing stuff up at work. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get fired before this separation of ours is over. If they didn’t need me so badly to finish this stupid job down here, they probably would’ve already fired me. Whatever. I don’t even care anymore. All I care about is fixing what’s happened between us.
I’m finding I have an amazing ability to torture myself with memories. Do you know what I can’t seem to stop thinking about? Making love with you. Remember how scared we were the first time? It was pretty bad, huh? But we got better at it, didn’t we? Sometimes I think I’ll go mad craving your soft skin, or thinking about the way it feels to be inside you, and that sound you make way in the back of your throat… Okay, I’ve got to stop this before I seriously go insane. I can’t believe I thought for even one second that I could do that with someone else… I’m sorry. You’re the only one for me. You always have been, and you always will be. Don’t stop loving me, Jule. I don’t think I’d survive it.
I love you.
J
[END LTR]
And just that simply, the decision Juliana had been so certain of a few minutes earlier was once again back in play.
An hour later, huddled under a heavy blanket on a lounge chair on the deck, Juliana revisited all the memories Jeremy’s letters resurrected. He had reminded her that for a very long time, he’d been the only person in her life who truly loved her.
“Hey,” Michael said. “Aren’t you freezing?”
Startled out of her thoughts, she said, “What?”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his hands together vigorously.
“Nothing.”
He tilted his head to study her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Everything okay at work?”
“Yeah. The judge wants to see us all on Monday morning, and then he’s resuming the trial.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I’m anxious to be done with it, so, yes, that’s good. Can we go in? It’s freezing out here.”
She took the hand he offered and let him help her up.
“Christ, Juliana, your hand is like ice. How long have you been out here?”
“Not long.”
He closed the sliding glass door and hustled her over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. After he threw two more logs on the fire, he sat down next to her and held her close to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
“Did they find Escalada?”
“No, but they found the place in Annapolis where he’d been hiding out. His prints were everywhere, and they found traces of arsenic.”
She looked up at him. “Let me guess, he was long gone, right?”
Michael nodded, his mouth set in a frown. “They don’t think he’s in the area anymore. The FBI has issued a nationwide alert. They’ll find him.”
“I almost wish they wouldn’t,” Juliana confessed. “But then I think about him getting away with poisoning Rachelle and Scott…”
“I know.” He rubbed her hands between his to warm them. “But hey, we have three more nights here before I have to go back to the city. Can we just put everything else aside and try to enjoy being here together? For just a few days I don’t want to think about anything but you.” He kissed her. “Can we do that?” He kissed her again. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll try,” she said, but her heart was burdened by her worries about Escalada and the knowledge that she still had a big decision to make—a decision that was going to hurt one of the men who loved her.
They did their best to put their stack of troubles aside for the time they had left at the beach house, and for the most part they succeeded. On their last day, they cleaned the house, did a load of sheets and towels, and packed while trying not to think about what was ahead in the next few weeks. Just after midnight on Sunday morning, they were driven back to the lives they put on hold a week ago.
“What are you thinking about?” Michael asked as they crossed the Bay Bridge.
Juliana rested against him in the back of the police car. The cops had closed the panel to the backseat to give them some privacy. “I was remembering when you said this bridge looks like a yard sale bridge.”
“Well, look at it.”
“I agree with you.”
He rubbed his cheek against her hair.
“Michael?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Remember that night when we came back from Florida and you gave me your card and we said good-bye?”
“Of course I do. Why?”
“Well, ever since then I’ve wondered: if my car had started, would I have ever seen you again?”
“A lot’s happened because that car didn’t start, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He tilted her face up so he could see her. “If your car started and you drove away that night, I think I would’ve suddenly been in desperate need of a haircut. I might’ve lasted a day, maybe two, but that’s about it.”
“Really?”
He leaned in to kiss her. “I’ve told you, Juliana, I already knew then that you were going to matter to me. I never could’ve imagined how much, but I already knew. What about you? Do you think you ever would’ve used that card I gave you to get in touch with me?”
“Truth?”
He winced and nodded.
“I don’t think so. I would’ve been afraid to see you again.”
“Why afraid?”
“I was such a mess over everything with Jeremy that I probably would’ve gone into my shell and hid out for three months until it was over.”
“You might’ve been better off. At least you would’ve been safer in your shell.”
“But I wouldn’t have known you.”
“That might’ve been better, too.”
“No. I wouldn’t have missed this time with you for anything. I could never be sorry for loving you.”
He brought her hand to his chest. “You still make my heart pound, Juliana.”
“There’s another reason why I would’ve been afraid to call you.”
“What’s that?”
“I thought you were about the sexiest guy I’d ever met.”
His face lit up with delight. “Oh, really?”
She traced his bottom lip with her finger. “Uh huh. If I’d had time to think about it, I definitely would’ve been afraid of you.”
“I think,” he said, capturing her finger between his teeth, “what you need to be afraid of at this moment is whether or not I’m going to jump you right here in the back of this police car.”
She pushed him away. “Stop!”
Michael opened the divider to talk to the cops. “Hey, does this thing have a siren?”
“Sure does.”
“Can you use it? I’m suddenly in a big rush to get home.”
“Michael!” Juliana said with a nervous giggle as the cops laughed. “He’s just kidding.”
“The hell I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The trial resumed Monday morning with a meeting of the attorneys in the judge’s chambers.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” Judge Stein said. “The defense motion for a mistrial is denied—”
“But your honor—” one of the defense attorneys protested.
“You do not want to interrupt me right now. Your clients are attempting to make a mockery of the judicial system I’ve served for forty years. I’m running low on patience.”
“
Yes, your honor,” the chastened attorney replied.
“Mr. Maguire, you’re certain Ms. Griffith is unable to appear in court?”
“She’s been very sick. Her parents and doctors are unwilling to permit it.”
“In that case, I’m going to allow the prosecution to introduce the videotape of her testimony.” To the defense attorneys he said, “Before you object, and you should feel free to do so in open court, I know you can’t cross-examine videotape. But it’s a sworn statement, so you can take it up with the appellate court. Finally, I want to be sure you’re all clear on one critical thing—there is to be no mention from either side about the attack on Ms. Griffith. Not by inference, reference, or any other means. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your honor,” the attorneys answered.
“Mr. Maguire, I’m sure there’ll be a mighty temptation to give the jury the impression that the defendants had something to do with the reason Ms. Griffith is appearing before us on tape rather than in person. Resist it or you’ll not only be looking at a mistrial but a complaint from me to the bar. No matter what you think happened in that Annapolis hotel room, Marco and Steven Benedetti are not on trial for the attack on Rachelle Griffith and the police officers. Not yet anyway and not in my courtroom. Keep your eye on the task at hand.”
“Yes, your honor,” Michael said.
“Very well. We call to order in thirty minutes.”
After they filed out of the judge’s chambers, Michael asked for a moment alone with Tom Houlihan. They found a deserted conference room, and Michael closed the door.
“Everything all right?” Tom asked.
“No, but before I get into that, thank you for the use of your house. It was a hell of a place to be stuck for a week.”
“I figured you’d enjoy it. You’ve certainly earned the break. What’s on your mind, Michael?”
Michael sat down at the conference table, hoping he was about to do the right thing. “Um, Juliana.”
“She’s a lovely girl.”
“Yes,” Michael said in almost a whisper. “She is.”