Justice Betrayed

by Patricia Bradley

  “Thank you. So do you. And your father and grandmother will be so glad you could make it,” Terri said.

  “I wouldn’t miss Gran’s party for the world. Where are you going?”

  “I’m making a grocery run. The Judge thought I was picking up ice cream, and I thought he was getting it. I’ll be right back. Erin was asking where you were a few minutes ago.”

  “You haven’t said anything about us running into Boone at Gallagher’s, have you?”

  “No. Almost mentioned it at Starbucks, but thought better of it. Gotta run.”

  “Thank you for not saying anything,” she called after Terri. Both grandmothers had liked Boone, and she didn’t want them to get started on what a nice young man he was again.

  Rachel’s heels clicked on the marble entryway as she walked toward the music playing in the back of the house. In the family room, Gran held court, opening presents in front of her friends. She looked up as Rachel handed her the present she’d brought.

  “Oh, you made it! And you shouldn’t have gotten me anything.”

  “I couldn’t not.” She hoped Gran would like the pink summer sweater she’d found. Her grandmother complained of being cold winter and summer. Rachel scanned the room, and Erin motioned her over.

  “My, you look nice,” Rachel said.

  As usual, a shy smile graced Erin’s face. She dropped her gaze to Rachel’s feet. “I like your shoes. They don’t look like Gran’s.”

  “Thank you.” Erin always noticed what kind of shoes people wore. “I like your turquoise shoes better.”

  “Do you like my necklace? It’s my favorite, but I like yours better. Can I wear it?”

  Rachel touched the small cross dangling from a thin chain. Jewelry was something else Erin always noticed. “Maybe later. Right now I need it for the party.” She brushed a strand of Erin’s dark hair back. “I like your haircut.”

  “Me too. It’s like Terri’s. When are we going to have ice cream?”

  “As soon as your sister gets back.” Rachel turned as her father approached.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” he said.

  “Me too.” She checked to see if Donna had arrived and spotted her coming into the room from the kitchen area. She’d certainly made herself right at home. Rachel noted Donna had gone all out in flowing black pants and a white sparkly top and had piled her red hair up in a messy bun. Rachel turned back to her dad. “I see you got a haircut today too.”

  “Too?” He frowned, and she pointed to Erin’s hair.

  “Oh. Yes, you look very nice, Erin.” Then he smoothed a hand over his full head of dark hair and turned to Rachel. “I saw the look on your face last night that indicated it was too shaggy.”

  “I never said anything, but it does look nice tonight.” His pale blue polo shirt showed off his tan. “I see you’ve been hitting the tennis courts too.”

  He laughed. “You don’t miss much, do you?” He nodded toward his mother. “She seems to be enjoying herself. She was really surprised.”

  Rachel swallowed a smile, glad he was in a good mood, but sometimes she wished they could talk about real issues instead of superficial ones. “Yes, she does appear to be having fun.” Rachel’s gaze followed Erin as she drifted toward the punch bowl where her other grandmother ladled the pink drink into cups. “Thanks for inviting Nana.”

  “Rose would have been highly insulted if I hadn’t. And Mother would have been disappointed. Those two might love to argue, but I think they really care about one another.” He frowned. “You don’t suppose Rose is spiking the punch, do you?”

  “I’ll check and see.”

  “No, wait until I make my announcement. I was waiting for you to get here.” He cleared his throat. “Can I have everyone’s attention?”

  Everyone turned toward the Judge. “I have some news that I want to share.”

  He glanced at Rachel, and her stomach clenched. Don’t let this be about an opportunity for me with a law firm.

  The Judge scanned the room and then smiled broadly. “It hasn’t been released to the media outlets yet, but I’ve been chosen by the president of the United States to sit on the Sixth Court of Appeals.”

  Stunned silence filled the room, and then everyone started talking at once. Erin clapped, even though Rachel wasn’t certain she understood what was going on, and Gran hurried to his side and hugged him. “You didn’t breathe a word! Congratulations!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rachel said. She couldn’t help but notice how Donna hung on the Judge’s arm. “How did you keep this a secret?”

  “I couldn’t say anything until it was official,” he said, still beaming. “Of course, I have to be confirmed by the Senate.”

  “You know that won’t be a problem,” Gran said. “You don’t have one skeleton in your closet.”

  14

  GRAN WAS RIGHT. If anyone was squeaky clean business-wise, it was her father. He had a solid reputation in the judicial field. The only blip on his personal life was the separation from her mother over a fling. Not that Rachel ever knew the woman’s identity, and as far as she knew, no one other than herself knew about the affair, not even Nana. In this day and age, it probably wouldn’t matter, and he would sail through the confirmation hearings.

  Rachel hugged him as others gathered in to congratulate him, and then she spied her other grandmother still by the punch. She wanted to see Nana before she had to leave.

  Donna intercepted her. “Isn’t that the greatest news?” she said.

  Rachel studied her friend, looking for . . . she wasn’t sure what. Maybe a sign that said “I won’t get hurt when your dad dumps me.” “I’m happy for him. How long have you two been seeing each other?”

  “Oh, not long. And I have you to thank for bringing me to the dinner party that time.”

  In her peripheral vision, Terri set down a pretty package to congratulate her father, and Rachel finally put her finger on why Donna and the Judge seeing each other bothered her. She’d hoped he and Terri would get together. But if they hadn’t in seventeen years, they probably wouldn’t. Tamping down her disappointment, she extended a warm smile to Donna. “Just be careful. He’s not known for long relationships.”

  “He may make an exception this time.”

  Rachel suppressed a groan. She hadn’t figured Donna as one of those women who thought “this time would be different.” That she would accomplish what no other woman had in seventeen years. “I need to see my grandmother before I leave. I’ll see you later.”

  Donna gave her a hug. “I’m leaving as soon as I tell your dad bye. I promised to hand out flyers at Blues & Such advertising the candlelight service Tuesday.”

  “Then I’ll probably see you there,” Rachel said. She walked toward Nana, still savoring her father’s good news. He’d worked hard for this and he deserved the seat. “Spiking the punch?” she said.

  Nana jumped, almost spilling her drink. “You scared me to death. And no, I’m not spiking it. Although it needs it.”

  “You look terrific.” And she did in a melon-colored tunic over white pants. “Great news, huh?”

  “Excellent. But it doesn’t surprise me. Your father is a good man and a fair and honest judge.”

  Rachel’s heart warmed at the high praise coming from her grandmother. The Judge was a lot like his mother, and while Nana didn’t always agree with the two of them, she respected and loved them both. Sometimes it was like a Steel Magnolia butting heads with Downton Abbey. “Did Gran act surprised?”

  “Academy-Award performance.” Nana set her cup down. “Are you still going to Blues & Such?”

  “As soon as I leave here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind tagging along. Gerald can’t go.”

  “Hmm . . . Afraid not. My visit will be official, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there. And you definitely don’t need to drive downtown by yourself at night.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” She took a sip of her punch. “I’ve been th
inking about that night the photo was taken. Wasn’t your father there?”

  “He was.” A memory niggled at the back of her mind. “I think it’s the only time he ever came to an Elvis function.” If only he’d gone home with Mom. But her mother hadn’t been ready for him to move back in. And that had left Rachel to fill in the gap, only she hadn’t.

  “Stop what you’re thinking.”

  Rachel jerked her head up. “I wasn’t—”

  “Thinking you let your mother down? You were a fifteen-year-old kid. You couldn’t have changed the outcome. We could have lost you too.”

  Rachel couldn’t convince herself of that truth. She ladled punch into a cup.

  “If anyone could have changed the outcome, it was your father. He should have been home with her, not living in some hotel.”

  She stopped with the punch halfway to her lips. She’d never heard Nana blame her father for not being there the night her mother died.

  Nana shook her head. “Forget I said that. This is a happy night. I guess it was the photo this afternoon that’s brought that horrible night back.”

  “I wish I hadn’t discussed the case with you or asked you about Vic Vegas now.” Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Terri hand the pretty package she’d had earlier to Gran. Which reminded her that she hadn’t seen her grandmother open the gift she’d brought.

  “Let’s join Erin and watch Gran open her presents.” Rachel hooked her arm into Nana’s and they walked to where Erin sat beside Gran.

  “This is for you,” Terri said, handing her the gift as Rachel sat in one of the chairs that had been brought in.

  “For me?” All of the guests were here for Gran, and she hadn’t expected a present from any of them. “Where did it come from?”

  Terri shook her head. “It was on the front doorstep when I came back. Maybe one of the neighbors who couldn’t come to the party?”

  Erin clapped her hands. “Can I open it?”

  Rachel searched the package to see who it was from, but the only name on it was hers. It was wrapped in expensive, creamy white paper, but under the paper, the box felt rigid, like it was wooden.

  Goose bumps raised on her arms.

  Something was off. No card, no mention of who the gift was from. She glanced up, and her grandmothers were watching. Even her father looked interested.

  Drop this case or you’ll live to regret it.

  Rachel had almost been able to put the text out of her mind. Her mouth dried. What if she was holding a bomb? Everyone in the room could be killed.

  Blood rushed from her head to her thumping heart, leaving her face icy cold. Get a grip. What if it was nothing? She’d feel like a fool.

  “Are you going to open it?” the Judge asked.

  She pulled off a smile. “My birthday isn’t until Tuesday. I think I’ll wait.”

  Rachel stood, taking care not to jostle the package. Just in case. But the way her legs trembled, she wasn’t certain she could move. “I better get back to work.”

  In a blur, she managed to get out the door, but instead of going to her car, she searched for a place to lay the package. If it was a bomb, it was probably a plastic explosive, and she had no idea how far the explosion might reach.

  The house sat on a two-acre lot with most of it between the house and street. The best place looked to be the middle of the yard near the hundred-year-old pin oak. She’d hate to lose the tree she’d climbed to the very top of as a kid, but she set the package ten yards from it and double-timed it to the front steps, dialing Boone on the way.

  “Tell me you’re almost to my house.”

  “I may have a problem,” she said and tried to get her breath. What if she was wrong? She’d never live it down.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m at the Judge’s and someone left a birthday present on the doorstep for me. No name on it but mine. I have this feeling . . . it’s probably nothing . . .”

  “But it may not be nothing. I’m on my way.”

  “The package is under the big tree in the front yard.” Just knowing he was coming eased the tension in her chest. The text. She hadn’t told him about it. There would be consequences to pay.

  Then she had a worse thought. What if she’d let Erin open the package? And there had been a bomb inside it?

  15

  THERE WAS JUST ENOUGH ROOM for Boone’s truck to get by the cars parked in the driveway. His lights caught Rachel with her arms hugged close to her body as she stood on the stoop of the huge two-story brick structure that was the Judge’s house. She looked quite different from when he last saw her. Heels and a sleeveless, formfitting dress were not normal detective attire—in spite of what was shown on TV.

  He hadn’t expected to see her standing alone. Where was her father? It had occurred to him if the package did contain a bomb, it could be meant for Judge Winslow. He was certain to have made a few enemies during his career.

  Boone parked and climbed out of his truck, glancing toward the tree where a white package lay on the ground. He dialed the head of the bomb squad and filled him in on exactly where the package was, and then walked toward the house where Rachel waited at the steps. “The bomb squad is on the way,” he said.

  She closed her eyes as if gathering strength. “There’s something I should have told you earlier.”

  Sentences that started out with those words never ended well. “Go on.”

  “I . . .” Rachel swallowed and opened her eyes, leveling her gaze at him. “I received a text this afternoon telling me to drop the case or I’d live to regret it.”

  “What?”

  Rachel flinched. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? What if”—he turned and pointed toward the package—“that is a bomb? And you had opened it in the house?”

  “You can’t say anything I haven’t already thought. I made a stupid mistake.”

  “Yes, you did. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to give you a reason to take me off the case.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You want to anyway.”

  “Why is this case that important to you?”

  Her mouth twitched. “I told you already. A man is dead because I didn’t act fast enough.”

  “That’s no excuse for not telling me about the text. I could have already traced the number.”

  “I’m not exactly stupid. I traced the message back to the phone it came from. A burner from a discount store. No ID required when paying with cash.”

  Boone rocked back on his heels. Rachel’s tenacity was a plus but . . . He eyed her grimly. “No more withholding information. Got that?”

  Her nostrils flared slightly. “Got it.”

  He glanced toward the house. “Have you told your father what’s going on?”

  She shook her head. “In spite of the text, I couldn’t wrap my head around someone wanting to harm me. I figured you’d take one look at the package and say it was nothing.”

  “Do you want me to fill him in?”

  He thought she was going to say yes, but then she shook her head.

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  Before Rachel had a chance to head inside, her father opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

  “Rachel, what’s going on? And Boone, what are you doing here?”

  Rachel glanced at Boone. “There was a little problem,” she said.

  Boone offered his hand. “Good to see you again, sir. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

  “What circumstances do you mean? What’s going on?”

  Rachel lifted her chin. “The present, the one Terri found on the front porch. It may have a bomb in it.”

  “What?” The judge rubbed his forehead and shifted his gaze to Boone. “But . . . why would anyone . . .”

  “I don’t know, sir,” he said. “Just wanted to let you know what was going on before you heard the sirens.”

  Right on cue, the not-too-distant wail of sirens could be heard. “That should
be the bomb squad. We’ll need you and your guests to stay inside until it’s clear.”

  “I understand.” He shot Rachel a look Boone couldn’t read. “I suppose bomb threats are to be expected in your current line of work.”

  Boone flinched as what little color had been in Rachel’s face disappeared.

  “I—”

  Winslow silenced her with his upraised hand. “Don’t tell me we would be standing here discussing a bomb if you had remained with the law firm.”

  “That’s enough, Lucien.” A soft but firm voice came from the doorway.

  Boone turned as Rachel’s grandmother stepped outside the house and onto the porch. Tall, and like the Judge, her regal bearing commanded respect.

  “Gran, you shouldn’t—”

  “I shouldn’t what, Rachel? If something is going on, I want to know what it is.”

  “That package she wouldn’t open is possibly a bomb,” her father said.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Boone said. He felt the need to defend Rachel against her father’s anger. “If it is a bomb, there is a possibility your daughter isn’t the target. You could be.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. Evidently a threat toward her father had not crossed her mind. “You may want to let your guests know what’s going on,” he said. “Just don’t let any of them leave the house until we give the okay.”

  Winslow gave a terse nod. When he’d gone, the older woman came closer.

  “Boone,” she said, “it is so good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Winslow,” he said, taking the hand she held out, wincing as she raised her eyebrows. “Adele,” he corrected.

  She smiled and then turned somber. “Is my granddaughter in danger?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out.” He wished Rachel had told him about the threatening text earlier. The sirens grew louder, and Boone turned as blue lights flashed at the end of the drive. “Please stay inside until we know what we’re dealing with.”