Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 1 of 2: Undercover Marriage\Collateral Damage\Forgotten Past (15 page)

Kannon shoved the pad of paper and pen toward the disgraced lawyer. “Write it all down. This is the only way you get any leniency. I want everything. The names of your thugs, the names of the women you terrorized into giving up their babies and the names of the families those babies went to.”

Josh left the interrogation room as Munders began scribbling on the pad of paper. Serena and the chief rushed out of the side room and met him in the hall.

“Good job, McCall,” Harrison said, slapping Josh on the back.

“We have to find the judge,” Serena said. She wouldn't be satisfied until the man who'd killed her brother was brought to justice and put away in jail for the rest of his life.

Josh took her hand. “Yes, we will. However, I'm not sure I'm willing to take the word of Fred Munders. He could be casting blame on the judge and the congressman to save his own skin. I want a chat with the congressman. See what he has to say for himself.” Josh glanced at the chief.

“Have at him,” the chief said.

Serena blocked his path. “Let me.”

Josh exchanged a quick glance with the chief. At the chief's nod, Josh stepped aside. “He's yours to question.”

Pleased by Josh's willingness to let her do some of the heavy lifting, she gave him a quick smile before entering the interrogation room where Congressman Peter Simms waited.

He looked up when she entered. “Can I have some water?”

She inclined her head, knowing Josh and the chief were watching and would fulfill the request. “Some will be brought in.”

She took the seat across from Peter. “How did a man with such a promising political career get involved in an illegal adoption ring and murder?”

Peter's blue eyes darkened. “I don't know anything about any murders or the adoption scam.”

“Seriously? You're going to deny it?” Serena shook her head. “Fred Munders is in the next room spilling his guts. He says you and your brother are the ones behind the illegal adoption scam.”

“I didn't know anything about the illegal activity until it was too late,” Peter said. “My brother—” He clamped his lips tightly together.

“Your brother?” she prompted, impatient to get the truth. When he didn't continue, she said, “Your political career is over. Now it's a question of how long you're going to jail for. Help yourself and tell us everything.”

His lifted his chin. “I swear I wasn't involved.”

She sent him a dubious look. “Look, Congressman, we have men in custody eager to make a deal. We've got Fred Munders pointing to you and your brother. We have witnesses willing to testify. We have a paper trail that will lead straight to your door. Not to mention what we'll find when we run your financials. You're done. The sooner you cooperate the better it will be for you.”

He seemed to weigh her words. Regret flashed in his eyes but was quickly shuttered behind a mask of poise. The ultimate politician. “I don't know anything about my brother's illegal activities. Simon poured money into my campaign. I didn't ask where the money was coming from. That's the only crime I'm guilty of.”

“What about the death of U.S. marshal Daniel Summers?” Serena choked out.

Guilt flickered beneath the politician's stare. Serena slammed her hand on the table. “Answer me!”

Peter flinched. “You'll have to talk to Simon about that.”

“You're confirming your brother is the one who killed Daniel?”

“I'm not confirming or denying anything, Marshal Summers,” Peter said smoothly, recovering from his momentary bout of conscience. “It's up to you to find the culprit. If my brother is guilty, then he will have to pay for his crime.”

Irritated by his evasive answer, she narrowed her gaze on the politician. “Who in the U.S. Marshals Service is working with your brother?”

Peter spread his hands wide. “I do not know. Honestly, I don't.”

She studied his face, his eyes, looking for deceit and not finding any. Frustration pounded at her temples. She believed him.

She exited the room with purposeful steps. It was time to put an end to this. The judge would answer for his crimes.

* * *

“Good work, Josh,” Hunter Davis's deep voice came over the phone line. Josh and Serena had returned to the Marshals Service office, along with their chief. Josh sat at his desk, his gaze landing on the other marshals in the office as they worked on their cases. Which one was the traitor? “You and Serena work well together,” Hunter commented. “I'm proud of you both.”

Pleased by his former team leader's praise, Josh sat straighter and said into the receiver, “We're not done. We still have to find the leak and arrest the judge. The chief is getting a warrant now so we can arrest the judge and search his office and home for evidence connecting him to the case. The AG is leery of taking the word of Munders or the congressman. Judge Simms has a powerful hold on the city government.”

“It will be good to have this over,” Hunter said. “Annie and I plan on returning when we can put this behind us.”

“We'd love to have you back,” Josh said, meaning it. His gaze snagged on Serena coming out of the women's restroom. Her eyes looked red and there was a grim set to her jaw. Hearing about her brother's death had hurt her. Just as it had Josh. But it also angered him. Daniel had had backup. Backup that betrayed him. Betrayed them all. They had to find the traitor in the department and stop him.

Josh ended his call with Hunter, promising to let him know as soon as the situation was resolved and it would be safe for him and Annie to return to St. Louis. Going to Serena's side, he said, “If you need some time, everyone will understand.”

She shot him a hot look. “I'm seeing this through, Josh.”

He smiled with approval. “I figured as much but thought I'd offer.”

Her expression softened. She laid a hand on his arm. “You're a good man, Josh McCall.”

Her words speared him, making him want to sweep her into his arms and confess his love. But that would be foolhardy. If they wanted to go back to being colleagues, a romance between them wouldn't be wise. “Let's see where we stand with the judge.”

The speculation in her eyes spurred him into motion. He knew her well enough to know she could see through him, see the effect her words had on him. He led her to the chief's office.

Harrison wasn't alone. Kannon tipped his chin in acknowledgment as they entered. “We've got the warrant and the indictment. The judge should be at the courthouse.”

Anticipation revved through Josh's blood. Time to put an end to this, once and for all.

FIFTEEN

J
osh surveyed the empty room, his blood pressure skyrocketing. They'd driven to the courthouse in the county seat of Clayton to find the judge's chambers empty. The desk was neat and tidy; gold-gilded books lined a built-in bookshelf, the judge's robe hung from a standing coatrack in the corner. But the judge was nowhere to be found.

Beside Josh, Serena growled, “Where is he?” She moved to the desk and began rifling through the drawers.

Josh whirled on the clerk who'd followed them into the empty office. “Is he in court?”

The clerk, Ian Parker, a thin man with thick glasses, shook his head. “No. The judge didn't show up today.” He hurried to the desk to block Serena. “Hey, you can't do that.”

“We have a warrant,” Serena replied, bending to search for any hidden compartments in the sides of the desk.

Josh watched, knowing if there was something to find, she'd find it. She was one of the most capable women he knew. The more time he spent with her, the more he admired her. When she shook her head and stalked away from the desk with her hands balled at her sides, he blew out a breath of frustration.

Ian frowned. “You don't think anything bad has happened to the judge, do you?”

“Not yet,” Serena muttered. The rage trembling in her tone made Josh slant her a quick glance. She had to hold it together. They were close to finding out the truth of her brother's murder. The judge had the answers they sought.

A sense of urgency crowded through the anger. The judge must know they were onto him. The leak in the department had likely already informed the judge and sent the man scurrying for cover. Josh's fingers curled. Where would he run? “Do you have the judge's home address?”

Ian eyed them with concern. “You
do
think something bad has happened to him.” He pushed his glasses up with his index finger. “I was afraid something like this would happen one day. He gets all sorts of crazy hate mail. Criminals promising retribution, families of victims angry if they perceive he's been too lenient.”

“The address,” Josh snapped, not needing to hear about the judge's safety concerns. The man was a criminal himself.

Hurrying out of the chamber and back to his desk, Ian's fingers quickly flew over the computer keys and printed off the judge's home address. “I'm not going to get into trouble for this, am I?”

“No.” Serena took the address from Ian's hand. “You should get a medal.”

They left the courthouse. Josh drove as fast as he safely could to the address Ian had supplied. The Hampton Park home of Judge Simon Simms sat on nearly two acres of sprawling manicured lawns, a wide variety of trees and well-maintained flower beds.

Josh whistled as he brought the vehicle to a halt at the front entrance. The colonial house with its dormer windows, brick exterior and white shutters oozed luxury. No wonder the judge had resorted to an illegal activity. The upkeep alone of a place like this would have set the judge back the sum of Josh's salary. His heart cramped. Anger flooded him.

The judge and Munders were just like Josh's father. Only on a much grander scale. His father had acted selfishly, robbing others to pay for his gambling habit. Judge Simms and Fred Munders dealt in the human trafficking of innocent lives so they could live the high life. They were cut from the same ilk. Men who wanted more than they could afford, regardless of who they hurt in the process.

Josh would make sure those involved would serve their time.

Serena was already out of the car before Josh turned off the engine. He jumped out and caught up to her as she stepped onto the porch. She jabbed a finger at the doorbell. Inside the sound of a loud chime echoed.

Almost immediately the door was jerked open. A tall, elegant man, dressed in a black suit and white dress shirt with a black tie, stood in the doorway. “Yes, can I help you?”

Serena flashed her badge at the man. Josh followed suit.

“Marshals Summers and McCall,” Serena said in a no-nonsense tone. “Is Judge Simms home?”

The man bent forward to study their IDs. He straightened. “No. He is gone.”

“Gone where?” Josh asked.

“I don't know. He and the missus left for an extended trip. I was not informed where they were going or when they would be back.”

“And you are...?” Serena asked.

“Henry. I manage the house.”

“Of course you do,” Serena muttered.

“We have a warrant to search the house.” Josh took the warrant out of his suit jacket breast pocket and handed it over.

Henry accepted the document and stepped aside so they could enter. The vast entryway, done in marble and crown molding, had hallway shoots going deeper into the house. A large staircase curved upward to the second floor.

Serena stood in front of a huge portrait of the judge and his wife that hung on the wall next to the staircase. Felicia Simms looked regal seated on a fancy, old-fashioned red sofa, wearing a long formal black dress, her black hair swept back from her pretty, pale face.

Behind her stood Simon. At least twenty years her senior, the silver-streak-haired man wore a tux; his hand rested possessively on his wife's shoulder. The expression of superiority on his face churned Josh's gut. He wanted to rip the painting from the wall and burn it.

“Does the judge have a home office?” Serena asked.

“This way,” Henry intoned and strode down one of the hallways, his clipped stride quick with efficiency.

Josh and Serena hurried after the houseman. At a set of double doors, Henry halted. “Please try not to disturb the room too much.”

“Can't make any promises,” Josh stated, moving past the man and flinging the doors wide. He stepped into a long room done in wood paneling with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a wall of windows overlooking the side garden.

A desk was situated at one end of the room while the other end had a sitting area. A box of expensive cigars sat on an end table. Josh's gut clenched. He remembered his father once bringing home a similar box of cigars, bragging to his ten-year-old son how much money the imported contraband was worth.

Even at that tender age, Josh had thought the expense excessive, but he'd loved his father and had tried to appear impressed. Now he felt sickened by the memory.

Turning his attention to the desk, he joined Serena in searching the drawers. Pulling out file after file, his heart rate sped up. The judge apparently kept all his illegal activities in his desk. But none of these files told them where the man had skipped off to.

Josh's gaze went to the trash can beneath the desk. He grabbed the round, black container and fished out a wad of shredded paper. He heaved a sigh. Then as quickly as he could, he started piecing the strips together on the desktop, something marshals were quite adept at when on the trail of a fleeing felon.

An itinerary. The judge and his wife were booked on a one-way flight to Dallas with a final destination of Morocco. A country that didn't have an extradition treaty with the United States. The plane was scheduled to take off in less than a half hour.

Excitement revved through his blood. “Serena! We have to get to the airport.”

* * *

At the Lambert–St. Louis International Airport, Serena pushed her way through the travelers. Beside her, Josh kept a hand at the small of her back, his touch creating sparks that propelled her forward.

They were so close to losing the judge. The plane had been boarded and was about to pull away from the gate. Though marshals could apprehend the judge when the plane landed in Dallas, Serena wanted to be the one to bring him in.

She'd called the chief and he in turn had called the air traffic controllers, but the red tape necessary to ground a plane could take more time than they had.

At the gate, the attendant blocked them from running down the gangway. “Excuse me!”

Serena and Josh flashed their badges.

“You have a passenger on board who is a wanted criminal,” Josh explained. “We need to get on the plane to take him into custody.”

“The door's been sealed. I'll let the captain know.” The attendant hurried to her console.

Taking that as a sign they were free to proceed, Serena raced down the compact corridor toward the plane's door with Josh hot on her heels. She skidded to a halt. Josh stopped next to her and banged on the door.

The sound of the door latch opening filled Serena with anticipation. The second the door swung wide, she pushed past the surprised attendant and entered the plane.

Serena paused in the aisle of the first-class cabin, her gaze raking over the twenty-four passengers, expecting the judge and his wife to be seated in the expensive seats.

“See him?” Josh asked from behind her.

“No. You?” Maybe they'd changed their appearance, like she and Josh had for their undercover assignment. She studied each face, hoping for a telltale sign that would indicate which of these people were the ones she sought, but didn't see what she was looking for.

“Let's check the coach cabin,” Josh suggested with a gentle nudge.

Blowing out a breath, she made her way down the center aisle. When she reached the closed curtain separating the first-class cabin from the economy class, she yanked it aside. A few people let out startled gasps.

Serena's gaze zeroed in on two people, sitting on the left side, midway down the cabin. The judge and his wife. Serena's heart vaulted with triumph.

Josh cupped her elbow. “By the book, Serena.”

Taking in a shuddering breath, she nodded. She wanted to wrap her fingers around the older man's neck and squeeze. She would have to settle for handcuffs around his wrists.

She advanced on him. “U.S. Marshals. Judge Simon Simms, we are taking you into custody.”

Simms jumped to his feet in the aisle and backed up. Fear twisted his face as he frantically looked for an escape.

Satisfaction roared through Serena. He should be scared. There was nowhere for him to run to. And with the tight airport security, they were assured he had no weapon.

“Simon?” Felicia Simms gaped at her husband. “What's going on?”

“You have no right,” the judge sputtered. “I'm an officer of the court. You will stand down!”

“I don't think so.” Serena drew to a halt an inch from him. “You are a murderer.”

He drew himself up. “That's absurd!”

“You killed my brother, Marshal Daniel Summers,” she shot back.

Baring his teeth, he snarled, “You can't prove anything.”

“We will. Now turn around,” she barked as she unclipped a set of handcuffs from the flak vest she wore.

“I'll have your badge for this,” the judge warned but did as instructed.

“Feel free to try.” With a gratifying snap, Serena cuffed his wrists together. She met Josh's gaze, the tenderness she saw there threatening to unleash the floodgate of emotion she struggled to hold back.

Finally, they had the man responsible for her brother's death in custody. Finally, the nightmare was over.

She pushed Simms forward toward the front of the plane, forcing him to walk in front of her.

Josh leaned over to offer Mrs. Simms a hand. “You'll need to come with us as well, ma'am.”

Serena steered the judge down the aisle. Something to her right caught her attention as she passed by. A red Cardinals baseball cap. Like the one she'd seen Bud Hollingsworth wearing at Congressman Simms's Gateway Arch appearance.

She stopped abruptly and turned around to stare. Josh bumped into her, his strong hands settling on her shoulders. The man in the window seat had the red cap pulled low, one hand up shielding the rest of his face, and his body angled way. Clearly he was trying not to be noticed. He had on a light-colored polo shirt and khaki pants.

“Serena, what's wrong?” Josh asked with concern in his tone.

“Bud,” she said, pointing to the man she'd just passed, who hadn't moved a muscle.

Josh leaned across the passenger in the aisle seat to yank the baseball cap off the man's head.

It was Bud!

His hand fell to his lap and he straightened. “You've blown my cover.”

Confused, Serena sought Josh's gaze. Cover?

“Explain yourself,” Josh bit out to Bud.

“I've been tailing the judge, per the chief's order,” Bud explained, his face turning red.

“I don't believe you.” Josh's voice dipped to a lethal level. “The chief would have told us if he had you in play.” Josh reached for Bud's arm. “Get up!”

A surreal numbness tore through Serena.

Bud was the leak.

Bile rose, burning her throat.

Her brother had respected and admired the older marshal. How could Bud betray Daniel, betray them all?

Reluctantly, Bud stood and scooted past his seatmate. Once he was in the aisle, he jerked out of Josh's grasp. He reared back, his hand curling into a fist.

“Josh!” Serena screamed a warning, but it was already too late.

Bud swung his fist, connecting with Josh's jaw.

Josh stumbled back, tripping over Felicia Simms.

Bud whirled toward her.

She released her hold on the judge and reached for her weapon.

The judge rammed his elbow into her side.

Pain exploded in her rib cage.

Bud shoved past her. She lashed out with her foot, catching him in the shin. He fell forward, trying to break his fall by grabbing on to the judge. The judge yelped, falling backward over the lap of a passenger.

Bud hauled himself upright and hustled down the aisle toward the exit.

“Oh, no, you don't!” Having righted himself, Josh lunged for Bud, wrestling him to the floor and handcuffing his hands behind his back before searching him for a weapon. A helpful flight attendant sat on Bud's legs. The passengers erupted with applause.

The judge attempted to flee.

“There's nowhere for you to go, Judge.” Serena grabbed the judge by the handcuffs and jerked him back.