A Judge's Secrets Read online

  He had promised himself that he wouldn’t think of her like that, and yet, after a near-death experience, his instincts had acted and shown him exactly who and what he wanted. Maybe it was just his loneliness rearing its ugly head.

  Yep, he was buttoning that crap up.

  “She is out in the waiting room.” The nurse didn’t say anything and ducked back out of the room.

  Was she going to tell Natalie he was awake? Send her in? Who else was there?

  He opened his mouth to yell after the woman, who he realized now wasn’t actually a nurse but likely a vet tech who had been tasked with babysitting him. No wonder she had been so annoyed. He should have told her he preferred the company of animals, too; maybe it would have softened her up a bit.

  He touched his head again, this time letting his fingers rest on the edge of his cut where the blood had started to dry. He couldn’t have been here too long if his wound was still weeping. That was something. And his cut mustn’t have been too bad if they hadn’t treated it while he was unconscious. Maybe it was nothing more than a bad scrape; faces tended to gush. And there was just enough redhead in him that he was more of a bleeder than most people he knew. It was probably his Irish blood.

  He tried to catch a glimpse of himself in the window to the left, but all he could see were the snowcapped mountains that were just outside his touch. The mountains were craggy, granite beasts like rock trolls from worlds past who had collapsed in battle and broke apart under the weight of the sky.

  A profound sadness filled him, but he didn’t know if it was because he felt like one of those trolls himself or if it was just the melancholic grayness of the frozen world. Or maybe what was bothering him was that in his pain, he was alone.

  There was the patter of footsteps and he looked in the direction of the sound. Natalie poked her head into the room. “You decent?” She sent him a dazzling smile.

  “If you mean dressed, yes.” He ran his hand over the leg of his black pants, not caring about the bloody mark it would leave behind.

  She walked in carrying the blue-and-white cups that seemed to be in every medical facility in every part of the globe. For a brief moment he wondered why that was. Maybe they were a requirement to be certified for treatment. Or maybe they came free with every order of medical supplies. Here are your ten boxes of nitrile gloves, and with it one thousand crappy cups. Free! His thoughts came in a voice reserved for late-night infomercial actors. It made him chuckle.

  Maybe the blow to the head had caused more damage than he had initially realized.

  She handed him a cup of coffee. It was swirling with cream, and his heart warmed ever so slightly. “You look like I would expect after you took a lamp to the head,” she said, grimacing as she stepped closer and looked over his forehead. “I told them to leave the gash alone. They wanted to stitch it up, but stitches leave scars and I didn’t know if you were the kind of guy who would be averse to such a thing.”

  “You think I care about my looks?”

  She reached over and gave his beard a little tug. “I don’t think that you are indifferent, Grizzly Adams.”

  “Oh, popping out the old-school movie references today, I see.” He touched her hand as she drew away from his beard. “I like it.”

  It struck him that in this moment, it wasn’t the things that were being spoken aloud that were being said. Rather, the real conversation was happening in the ways her eyes looked pained when she gazed at his wound and the tenderness with which her fingers had touched his hair.

  She didn’t love him, he didn’t see that in her, but he could see an affinity.

  Here he had been thinking he was all alone, when in fact, he had a friend who was only a few footsteps away and waiting to touch him just like that. She didn’t have to love him; that was fine. But he was certainly beginning to have an affinity for her, as well.

  As long as they were working together, he would be more than happy to communicate in this unspoken language of touches and looks. If a kiss happened again, he would suffer through it, as well. He smirked. Yes, the only word for kissing her was suffering; for to kiss her would be to open his heart, and to open his heart was to open himself up for the pain that came with love. And to love, that was the worst kind of pain of all.

  Here was hoping she could keep her emotions in check when she was around him and keep them to only a low-grade crush. She probably had the emotional fortitude of a saint. At least, he’d wish.

  He took a sip of the coffee and though she had tried to fix it up for him, it still carried the ashy flavor of cheap grounds. This place really had been a hospital in the last century, and apparently, the coffee was from those days, too.

  But he wasn’t about to complain; it was still better than the coppery flavor of blood that had settled into the cracks of his lips. He let the cream soak into his tongue.

  “Your phone has been buzzing nonstop,” she said, handing it over to him. “I haven’t looked at anything, but I think you have a lot of people who want to know you are okay. Don’t worry. I got in touch with the FBI and let them know what was happening.”

  “My team here, too? Did anyone else get hurt?” he asked, looking behind her like they were about to walk in, as well. He clicked on the screen. Natalie was right: twenty missed calls and thirty-six text messages were waiting for him. He clicked off the screen. He’d focus on them when he could muster more brainpower.

  She shook her head. “Everyone else walked away unscathed. They are still on the farm. Your brother felt terrible about what happened. He hasn’t stopped apologizing and I bet that at least half of the messages on your phone are from him.” She gave him a slight smile.

  “He should feel bad. Did a lamp actually fall on my head? Is that what hit me?” he asked. “And by the way, thanks for no stitches. I will take some skin glue, though.”

  She reached into her pocket and drew out a brown antique-looking bottle. She opened it, and with it came the scent of pain. He lost count of the number of times he used that particular crap on his skin. Would he ever get used to that sensation, the burning and ache of the antiseptic glue as it touched the newest scar on his soul?

  “Here, I’ve got it for you,” she said. “It’s going to hurt.”

  All that he knew. As a brush touched his forehead he tried not to grimace.

  “You’re taking this like a champ.” She brushed on a second coat of the glue as she pressed the edges of the wound together. The pinching almost hurt worse than the glue.

  “What can I say? I’m a tough guy,” he said, a touch of ego flecking his voice.

  She chuckled, but he could tell she was trying to bite it back.

  “Trying to work here,” she said.

  “Thanks for doing this. I appreciate you not letting the vet do the heavy lifting here.”

  She nodded. “Your brother wasn’t sure how bad your injuries were, so they did run a series of X-rays on you. Wanted to make sure there was no major internal bleeding. From everything they could find, it seemed like the only injury was to your head. So no major damage.” She laughed.

  “Oh, I see how it is. As long as my body is okay and ready to function, you’re not worried about me,” he teased. “I should’ve known you only liked me for my body and not my brain.”

  “I said no such thing,” she said, smiling wide. “But yeah, I admit it. I’m only after you for your body.” She let go of his forehead and he could feel the pull of the dried glue. She slapped his arm as she turned away and slipped the skin glue back into her pocket. “Actually, I was worried about your brain. But until you were awake, there wasn’t a whole lot we could do here. There was talk about sending you back to Missoula for more testing, but given the circumstances, I didn’t think that was the best idea.”

  And just like that, he was back to reality. He needed to get back to work. He was the one who was supposed to be protecting her, and
yet, she was the one gluing him up and standing over him in his time of need. This was not how it was supposed to go.

  “Is your mom okay? Did my team get her out?”

  She nodded. “They didn’t tell me where they were taking her, but I think it was better that way. If my enemies can’t get their hands on me, I don’t think that they would go after her, but I don’t want to take the risk.” She sighed. “My mom’s already been through so much and this is all very stressful for her.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened. I thought I’d cleared our escape of any tails, but it’s pretty hard to shrug anybody off in Montana when there’s only one main interstate. They must’ve had people spread out on a few exits and used a team to follow us. It’s what I would’ve done if I was in their shoes. From our perspective, everything would look all right. I put your mom in danger.” He realized he was explaining this mostly for his benefit. Maybe it was his attempt to assuage some of the guilt he was feeling over bringing her enemies directly to her most sacred location.

  She shrugged. “My mom has always been a fighter. She would be happy to take up arms against whoever is doing this—she already told me. She’s a tough cookie, but she’s the only family I have left and I don’t want to put her in danger. So I’m glad you called in your people.”

  He nodded, only wishing he had gone to them sooner. “What about you? Are you doing all right?” He looked at her.

  “I’d be lying if I said I was fine, but I know we will get through this.”

  His phone buzzed in his hand and he looked at the screen. A.J. was calling.

  “Answer him,” she said. “I know he’s worried and I haven’t had a chance to call him and let him know that you’re awake.”

  He nodded, clicking on the call. “Hello?”

  “Holy balls, it’s alive!” A.J. sounded positively enthusiastic. “Dude, of all the ways I thought you would go out, a lamp to the head—unless wielded by a woman—was the last thing I thought would happen.”

  “Wielded by a woman? No, man, that’s something that would happen to you.”

  A.J. laughed. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Asshat. You had us all real worried for you.”

  “You know, you wouldn’t have had to be worried about me if you would have all just handled the explosives with slightly more care. What the hell were you doing, playing football with the car bomb?”

  A.J. laughed, but this time the sound was more clipped, anxious and guilty, no doubt. “Hey, you should be thanking me. At least I pulled it off your truck before it detonated.”

  “I’m surprised. You’ve been after me to get a truck for a long time. If you blew it up, it would have forced my hand to buy a new one.” He laughed. “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “You were the only one whose blood was spilled. Truth be told, we think that it may have been on some kind of timer. It was sitting over by the firewood when it went off.”

  “Good to know that at least our bomber wasn’t sitting up in some tree. I was worried it was a remote detonator.”

  “Thankfully, it wasn’t, or who knows how many of us would have gotten hurt. We got lucky, man.” A.J. paused, like he was letting the words soak in, though he hardly needed to. “Speaking of getting lucky, we also managed to pull a bit more information about the bomb’s materials while we were waiting for you, Sleeping Beauty, to wake up.”

  “I’ll Sleeping Beauty you square in the ass if you don’t watch yourself,” he grumbled.

  A.J. scoffed. “Oh, big talk for a dude who got knocked out cold by a lampshade.”

  “You are asking for an ass kicking.”

  “Please just change out of whatever little hospital gown they got you all wrapped up in. I don’t want you coming after me with your ass hanging out any more than it already is.”

  He laughed at the mental image. “Ass.”

  “Jerk.”

  Goodness, he loved having brothers sometimes. No, make that all the time.

  “So you got lucky?” Evan asked.

  “Yeah, according to the analyst who ran the chemicals, the compound that was used as the bomb’s catalyst was a specific kind of rodent bait. It’s only sold at three locations in this state and all of them are for industrial uses only. As such, most are sold in bulk and only to professional organizations and industries. Zoey ran through their sales records for the last year. I’ll email you what she found. Maybe you can make sense of it.”

  “Great. And did you get any leads on the pen? The sarin?”

  A.J. sighed. “Nothing there, but that is a chemical that can’t be easily made. I’m thinking you got a chemist on your hands—or somebody pretty well trained in chemicals.”

  “Huh. Damn.” He sighed. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Let me know what you come up with, if anything. Later.” A.J. hung up.

  A few seconds later his phone pinged with an email of the findings. He opened it up. He scanned down the list of buyers. Many were exterminators and large corporations, but near the middle he found a name that popped. Rencher, and she was listing a textile company in Missoula as the business. A company that worked with a variety of chemicals—and Rencher, working there, must have been well versed in what they could be used for.

  But before he could jump to conclusions, he had to make sure of a few things. “Where does Rencher work?” he asked, looking to Natalie.

  She shrugged. “All I know was that she owned a textile company in the city. It was one of the main sources of contention in her divorce with Sanders, aside from her kids.”

  He pushed his legs over the side of the bed. His head was still swimming, but he felt slightly better. Even if he wasn’t, there was no sense in staying put. They needed to question their lead suspect.

  Chapter Nine

  There was no way she was going to let him drive and, though he seemed to understand, he’d been sulking ever since. He had done nothing but stare blankly out the window since they left. Actually, he’d been acting off ever since they’d kissed.

  That had been stupid.

  It was always a mistake to take any relationship past the point of respectful acquaintances. Beyond that, and she opened herself up to all the reciprocal allowances and allocations required in relationships. It was best to keep the circle small when it came to friends and lovers.

  But there was no putting that cat back in the bag. She had given up the truth, that she was attracted to him and wanted him for more than just the protection he provided.

  They sat in silence until they were entering the canyon that opened up into the valley and the city at its heart. His eyes darkened as they approached the traffic.

  “I hope you don’t really mind that I’m driving. If you do, then I think we may need to renegotiate the nature of our relationship. I don’t want a man in my life who is going to be upset when a woman takes the lead.” She tried to check herself before she snarled. Even as she spoke, though, she realized that she wasn’t really mad at him or mad at all. If anything, she could feel herself grasping at anything that could be used to push him away.

  “Huh? What?” He gave her the most confused dude look ever. “What are you talking about? You think I’m mad I’m not driving?”

  She huffed. “You’ve been pouting ever since you got in the car.”

  He frowned. “One, I’m not pouting. Two, I wouldn’t want to drive—you had to help me to the truck. We should definitely not let the dude with a probable concussion drive.”

  “Then what is wrong with you? Why aren’t you talking to me?”

  He looked at her and sent her a gentle smile, then reached over and opened his hand and motioned for her to take it. “Natalie.”

  She stared at his fingers for a long moment. It would feel so good to touch him again, to feel the strength of his fingers against the back of her hand. But was that the smartest thing? She was doing well, or at leas
t she had thought she was doing well, in pushing him away.

  Reaching over, she took hold of his hand and he wrapped her hand in his. “I didn’t even realize I was being quiet. I’m sorry.” He lifted her hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. He was so warm, almost abnormally hot. Why did men always run warmer than women?

  “What were you thinking about?” she asked.

  He put their entwined hands back down on the console between them. “To be honest, I was thinking how annoying it is to be in an area where my internet doesn’t work. It would be nice to be a little more prepared walking into our interrogation.”

  She nodded. “Do you even think she will be somewhere we can find her?”

  He shrugged. “Whoever planted the bomb didn’t stick around, at least so far as we could tell. It was more of a drop and trot kind of thing. If she’s smart, she will be at work. It would give her a credible alibi.”

  At least it would be an alibi for today and this morning. But it wasn’t that far of a drive to and from the farm and she could have easily made it back and forth in time to get to work.

  “Did you look into her phone records yet?”

  He shook his head. “My team is supposed to be doing it, but again, no network.” He lifted his phone from where he’d had it perched on his thigh.

  They drove out of the canyon and the city was abuzz with midday traffic. The on-ramps were backed up and she pulled behind the long line of cars just as Evan’s phone beeped.

  “Yes! And we are back online.” He tapped away on his device. He rattled off the textile company’s address and something about what they did—laundry for local businesses and a few other things—but she was only paying half attention as she drove. “Anyhow,” he continued, “it looks like—according to the cell phone tower records—her phone has been in the valley all week and she hasn’t gotten any phone calls aside from political spammers in the past sixteen hours.”

  “That doesn’t mean she didn’t leave the city limits. It just means she was smart enough to leave her phone at home.” It was always the most prolific criminals who knew how to avoid being detected and thus, from being prosecuted.