Fatal Judgment (20 page)

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Authors: Irene Hannon

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Judges, #Suicide, #Christian, #Death Threats, #Law Enforcement, #Christian Fiction, #Religious

BOOK: Fatal Judgment
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“Sure. I’m a little preoccupied, that’s all.” Heat suffused his face, and he struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation for tuning her out. “I was trying to remember if I filled Josie’s water bowl this morning.”

She gave him a blank look. “Who’s Josie?”

“My cat.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah. A stray I picked up last winter.”

“I thought you disliked animals. When I suggested you get a pet after Helen died you claimed they were more trouble than they were worth.”

She was staring at him as if he’d sprouted two heads, and he shifted from one foot to the other. This was going to be trickier than he’d expected. Patricia had known him for fifty-three years. She was well versed in his habits and personality quirks. He’d have to be careful not to arouse any suspicions or she might start watching him. That wouldn’t be good.

“A man can change his mind, can’t he? And she’s been a real fine companion. Let’s go get your luggage.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he set off again for baggage claim.

She fell into step beside him, and he found that if he fed her questions about her trip, he didn’t have to worry about contributing much to the conversation. Patricia had always been a talker. Even as a child, she’d been blessed with the gift of gab, as their mother used to say before the flu cut her life short when Martin had been ten. No question about it, his sister had been born with the social gene.

Funny that he was the one who’d married while she’d remained single.

Life sure could be hard to figure out.

By the time the carousel belched out her bags twenty minutes later, he’d heard the entire saga of her journey and she’d launched into a running narrative about life in the tiny village she called home.

Once more, Martin tuned her out. For the past three years, he’d lived a quiet, solitary life. He doubted he’d had a social conversation with anyone that lasted longer than five minutes. And he liked it that way. Always had. Fortunately, he’d found a woman to marry who had understood that. Helen hadn’t needed a man who used a lot of words. And his job hadn’t required him to communicate much, either.

Since Helen had died and he’d been laid off, however, his minimal social skills had atrophied. He didn’t mind. But he had a feeling Patricia would.

He sighed.

It was going to be a long three weeks.

14
 

______

 

She should have rented a car.

Scooping Josie up, Patricia huffed out a breath and watched through the mini blinds on the front window of Martin’s house as the taillights of his car disappeared down the street. She hadn’t expected her brother to spend every minute with her during her visit, but the man was always on the go. Touchy, too, when she inquired about his activities.

Like tonight. Over dinner, he’d told her he’d joined a bowling league and was committed for the evening. She’d been delighted. He’d always kept too much to himself, and she’d been afraid that with Helen gone, he’d withdraw even more. She was glad he was getting out. Truth be told, after three days cooped up in the house, she’d been ready for some social interaction too. But when she’d asked about joining him, just to watch, he’d practically choked on his coffee.

It was a guys’ night out, he’d told her. Women weren’t welcome.

So much for that idea.

Now she had a whole evening to kill. Already she was missing her village and the charming children who’d given her a new lease on life after early retirement had left her bereft and feeling useless.

She scratched the kitty under the chin, eliciting a purr. “Looks like it’s you and me, kid. What do you think about watching some television?”

Josie burrowed closer and buried her head.

“Yeah. My sentiments exactly.”

The sudden ring of the doorbell startled her, and Patricia cracked the mini blinds again with her fingers, peering sideways at the front door. A young woman, juggling a baby, stood on the porch.

At the prospect of company, Patricia’s spirits took an upswing and she hurried toward the door, setting Josie down as she opened it.

“Hi.” The thirtyish blonde-haired mother smiled. “Sorry to disturb you, but the mailman left this in my box by mistake today.” She held out an envelope. “I thought it might be a bill, and I didn’t want it to sit out overnight, so I decided to deliver it instead of putting it in Mr. Reynolds’s mailbox. I’m Molly Stephens, by the way. From next door.”

Patricia took the letter. “Nice to meet you, Molly. I’m Patricia Reynolds, Marty’s sister. Thanks for bringing this over.”

“It wasn’t any trouble. I was getting ready to run to the grocery store anyway. Are you visiting from out of town?”

“Yes. A long way out of town. I’m with the Peace Corps in Africa.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Wow! That must be fascinating. I’d love to hear about it while you’re here. These days, I’m pretty much confined to the house, thanks to my little stinker here. Otherwise known as Jack.” She bounced the baby on her hip, her lips curving into a tender smile as she patted his back. “I took six months off after he was born, and my husband travels a lot. I’m craving some adult conversation.”

Hallelujah!
Patricia praised in silence. This young woman could be the answer to a prayer.

“I’m in the same boat. Marty seems to have a lot going on, and since I didn’t rent a car, I’m stranded. He’s gone again tonight. Stop by anytime.”

“I’ll do that. Maybe tomorrow, if that’s okay. In the meantime, can I bring you anything from the store?”

Patricia hesitated. She’d never been the pushy type, but she’d gotten more assertive during her years in the Peace Corps. Why spend a long, dreary evening alone if there was the chance of a reprieve?

“I do need a few things. Marty’s pantry is in desperate straits. The man exists on cereal and microwave dinners. Would you mind very much if I came along?”

“Not at all. To be honest, you’d be doing me a favor. My husband worries about me running to the store after dark, and he’ll be glad to know I had some company.”

“Wonderful. Let me get my purse and lock up, and I’ll meet you in your driveway in two minutes.”

By the time she joined Molly, Jack was strapped in his car seat and gurgling happily in the backseat.

“He seems like a very contented baby.” Smiling at the infant, Patricia slid into the passenger seat and buckled her belt.

“He is. After hearing some of the horror stories my friends tell about how fussy their newborns are, I know I’ve been blessed.” Molly backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. “I want to hear all about your work in Africa tomorrow, but how about a little preview tonight?”

Patricia was happy to comply. She never tired of sharing her experiences, especially with an interested listener. Marty had asked a few perfunctory questions, but it was hard to work up much enthusiasm for storytelling with an indifferent audience. Molly more than made up for her brother’s apathy, however, plying her with questions, and she found herself sharing far more than she’d planned.

She was in the middle of a story about one of her students when the young mother pulled into the parking lot.

“My! I’ve talked your ear off all the way here.”

“I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Well, I ought to save a little for . . .”

Her voice trailed off as she spotted a dark blue, late model Accord that looked a lot like Marty’s parked in front of a print shop. She squinted, trying to make out the license plate. Usually she didn’t pay attention to such details, but his plate had caught her eye at the airport because it contained his initials. She’d kidded him about the coincidence, pointing out that he’d gotten a vanity plate for free.

The overhead security lights in the parking lot didn’t offer enough illumination for her sixty-two-year-old eyes to read the whole plate, but as they passed she did pick out three letters.

MTR.

It was Marty’s car.

Puzzled, she scanned the strip mall. There wasn’t a bowling alley in sight.

“Patricia? Is everything okay?”

Realizing she’d stopped midsentence, she tried to regroup. “Yes. Sorry. I got distracted for a moment. Is there a bowling alley in this mall?”

“No. Are you a bowler?”

“Not much of one.” She gave her brother’s car another distracted glance over her shoulder. “But I’ve rolled a few gutter balls in my day.”

Molly chuckled and swung into a parking spot. “Sounds like a description of my brief and unremarkable bowling career.” She set the brake and opened her door. “Give me a sec to extricate Jack from his seat.”

“No hurry. In fact, why don’t I meet you in the produce section in five minutes? I want to make a quick stop at that copy center.” She indicated the adjacent shop, which occupied the last spot in the strip mall.

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Leaving Molly to deal with Jack, Patricia headed for the small business, noting the unfamiliar name as she pushed through the door. Express Copies. Must be an independent store. It didn’t have the rubber-stamp look of a chain.

The high-school-age girl behind the counter was busy with a customer, and Patricia took the opportunity to wander through the aisles of stationery and office supplies. A few people were milling about, but not nearly as many as the cars parked in front would suggest.

And Marty was nowhere in sight.

Had he stopped in at the mall for some other reason? Run into the grocery store on his way to bowling, perhaps?

“May I help you find something, ma’am?”

At the question, Patricia turned toward the teenage clerk, summoning up a smile. “No, thank you. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, if you need help, let me know.” She trotted down the aisle to offer assistance to the next customer.

After working her way to the front of the store, Patricia headed for the exit. As she pushed through the door, a car pulled into an empty spot a few spaces down, and despite her distraction, she couldn’t help noticing the tall, dark-haired man who got out. She thought he was planning to go into the copy shop, but much to her surprise he bypassed the front door and headed around the side of the building.

Although she felt a bit cloak-and-daggerish, Patricia walked to the corner and peeked around. The powerful overhead lights that illuminated the asphalt lot didn’t reach far enough to dispel the shadows along the wall, but she could see the outlines of the man as he disappeared around the back of the building.

How odd.

Most people who lurked in shadows were up to no good. But that guy hadn’t struck her as the devious type. He’d been clean cut, and his jeans and T-shirt hadn’t been dirty or shabby. Nor had he skulked around the back as if he had anything to hide.

Was Marty back there too?

If so, what was he doing?

And why had he lied to her about his destination for the evening?

Lost in thought, Patricia switched directions and went to join Molly. She was probably fretting over nothing. It was possible her first inclination had been correct, after all. Marty might have stopped at the mall to pick up some grocery items.

But she didn’t see him anywhere in the store as she and Molly wandered through the aisles.

And when they returned to the parking lot loaded down with plastic sacks, her brother’s car was still in front of the copy shop.

Leaving her with an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake.

 

Liz was good.

Really good.

As Jake observed the proceedings in her courtroom on Friday afternoon, his admiration and respect for her rose another notch. Each of the cases she’d presided over this week had been complicated, and with each she’d demonstrated razor-sharp insights and a cut-to-the-chase manner that showed no mercy or patience for frivolities or sloppiness.

In yesterday’s accident case involving trucks from two states, she’d cut off the pompous, patronizing attorney who’d begun instructing her on the details with a curt reprimand. “I already did my homework,” she’d said. “I know the facts. Let’s discuss legal issues.”

Jake had had to stifle a grin at the man’s discomfiture. And he gave a silent cheer for Liz. As she’d aptly demonstrated to the condescending chauvinist, drop-dead gorgeous and a precise, clear-thinking mind weren’t mutually exclusive.

She’d ended up remanding the case to the state circuit court.

Today’s legal liability case involved a faulty bicycle made by an out-of-state company that had gone out of business. She’d discussed it with her law clerks in the morning, and after lunch she and the attorneys had selected a six-member jury and six alternates. Then the trial had begun.

Liz didn’t waste a minute of her day.

Now, as five o’clock approached, she adjourned the bicycle case until Monday.

As she rose, he and Spence moved forward. By the time she reached the door behind the bench that led to her chambers, they were behind her. After two weeks, she was familiar with the routine, and she waited for Spence to go first and give the go-ahead.

Once she was in the hall leading to her chambers and the door closed behind them, she expelled a long breath. Although she looked tired, her eyes had grown more alive with each passing day. And while he’d questioned the wisdom of her decision to go back to work so soon, Jake realized it had been the right choice for her. It was clear she loved what she did, and returning to her comfort zone had been therapeutic.

“Ready to go home?” She hadn’t yet left work before 7:00, but he decided to ask anyway. “It is Friday night.”

She led them toward her chambers, a rueful smile playing at her lips. “It’s not like I have any exciting plans for the weekend, other than giving myself a long-overdue manicure.” She waved her chipping crimson nails at him. “But it is a relief to be done with the case review for the FBI. I was thrilled when I closed the final file last night.”

“You should celebrate.” He followed her across the reception area of her suite and into her office while Spence lingered at her door.

She unzipped her black robe and started to shrug out of it. “Maybe I’ll have a double serving of cannoli. And I think I will go home early.”

“Five o’clock isn’t early.”

“It is for me.”

“Judge Michaels, Neil would like to speak with you.”

At Spence’s comment, Jake turned toward the door. The studious-looking law clerk hovered behind the other marshal.

“That’s fine, Spence. Come in, Neil.” Liz let the robe settle back on her shoulders.

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