A Judge's Secrets Page 8

  He appreciated that she was worried about his mental health, seriously. There was no doubt in his mind that his life had been impacted by the things he had seen, but there was a thin line between being vigilant and safe, and complacent and dangerous. He would always choose to be aware of his surroundings because even when he was, things like what happened yesterday still had a way of coming around. And so far his vigilance had kept him alive and might help her stay that way, as well.

  “Just go with me on this, please,” he said, trying to keep his mixed emotions from leaking into his voice. “It’s my job to worry about you, and to make sure you are safe.”

  The lines around her eyes softened and she smiled at him, then motioned toward the truck. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt a thing to check and make sure that nothing is amiss.” She paused and looked away. “And thank you. I really do want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I will make sure that your company gets paid for your services.”

  Though he heard everything she had said to him, all he could take from it was that she had relegated him to the level of the help. Had that been a way for her to keep her feelings at bay? Or had she finally just realized that she was too good for him? Either way, she wasn’t wrong. He was here to labor for her, nothing more.

  He hated that the woman of his dreams was standing at his fingertips, yet a world away.

  “Don’t worry about paying me. I’m here because I want to be here. This, taking care of people, is who I am.” He put his hand to his heart.

  And not because he thought she was beautiful. And not because right now, as he looked at her, all he could see was the sparkle of the morning sun in her eyes—and it made them appear even more green than when he had first looked upon her face in Judge Hanes’s office.

  He would keep her safe because that was what he had been born to do. And if this day was his last day because of this mission in life, at least he had led a life built on purpose and ended on a day in which he had felt her lips.

  “I should have known you were the hero type.” She smiled and touched his back, the first time she had touched him since they had been in the room alone together. “A girl could fall for that kind of thing, you know.”

  He half expected her to say, “But I’m a woman” and yet, she said nothing.

  Did that mean that she was falling for him, or was that just wishful thinking?

  And this, this mind game, this confusion, was what he hated the most about feelings and romantic attachments. It had a way of making a man feel crazy. Did she mean what she was saying or did it mean something else? Was she flirting with him or was he hoping to see something that wasn’t really there?

  It was so much easier just to stay in the friend zone.

  “Let me go check on the truck.” He hurried over to the driver’s side and dropped down to the ground, hugging it like it was the lifeline that would keep him from falling into the trap that was his feelings.

  He closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath. The earth smelled of decay and dust and the heady aroma of burnt frost. Every place he had ever been in the world had smelled different, but the salty, mineral scent of dust was universal—it whispered of unanswered dreams, lost hopes, failed promises, false starts, spilled blood and the ashes of lives. And yet, behind those whispers were screams of the venerable and lives built on honor and joy. People had called him a hero in the past, but those who experienced the brief periods of time on the earth with love, honor and joy were the most heroic of all.

  They had lived lives worth all the hell he put himself through in order to protect them. And he wished that Natalie would have all of those things, even if that future never crossed paths with his—and he gave every one of his days to the task of making her life one she, the hero, deserved.

  Her secret protector. Forever.

  He dabbed at the chill on the tip of his nose as he moved to inspect the undercarriage of the truck. The area right above his head had been wiped clean of dried mud and debris.

  Odd.

  There was no way that spot would have been clean given the number of miles they had racked up. Was his mind just playing tricks on him, and he was seeing things that weren’t really there? He had been known to do such things—see threats where they weren’t—in situations like this before. He stared at the clean spot on the undercarriage, wishing he knew slightly more about cars than what he did. Sure, he was competent, but being a full-blown mechanic wasn’t in his wheelhouse.

  Then he saw it. There, next to the crossmember, below his driver’s seat, was a small black box. Unlike in the movies, there was no blinking red light or something to indicate that power was going to the IED. Instead, it was just a simple black box, and if he hadn’t been looking for it or if he hadn’t seen the scuff marks underneath the car, there was no chance he would have ever seen the object, even with a quick undercarriage inspection. That was what made these things so goddamn deadly.

  He tried to control his breathing as he slipped out from underneath the truck.

  Just like that, everything he had been thinking about and all the emotional turmoil he had been putting himself through, all came to a screeching halt. That box. It looked like nothing more than hard plastic put together with four little screws. Whoever had made the bomb must have used a screwdriver normally set aside for glasses and delicate work. Specialty screwdriver. Specialty chemicals. Specialty bomb maker.

  At least he wouldn’t have died at the hands of just some inept person who had gotten lucky.

  And he had saved Natalie. He had trusted his gut, listened to the little voice screaming at him...the little voice he had wanted to ignore...and it had proven effective. To think he had almost let his mind grow clouded with things nonessential for survival. If he was going to protect her, he needed to focus.

  He had to tell her what he had found, but he didn’t want to alarm her. There were so many things that swept through his mind—how they had been found, who was behind it and what their possible next moves were. And yet, he couldn’t find the air to make the words. It was as if the bomb had already gone off in his mind, sucking every syllable into its mushroom cloud and leaving him as nothing more than skin and bones.

  “Are you okay?” Natalie asked, staring at him. “Is something wrong...something with your truck?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it, hoping the air would move back into his lungs and his tongue would work to sound out the words that had to be said. Instead, none came and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t hesitate as he led her back to the house and walking inside, making sure to close and lock the front door behind them. Judy must have been in the kitchen. He heard the water running there.

  He let go of her, hurrying around the living room and making sure all the curtains were closed. No one could see inside. He couldn’t allow them to become even easier targets than they already were.

  “What is going on, Evan?” Natalie asked, this time sounding more frantic than she had before.

  “I don’t want you to get upset.” His words sounded out of place even to his own ears.

  “I’m well past upset. What in the hell is going on?” Natalie sounded absolutely terrified—the one thing he had wanted to avoid.

  “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” He knew she could hear the lies in his sound, regardless of the words he had chosen to try and assuage her terror.

  She moved beside him and stepped to the window, but he pushed her back. Her eyes and mouth opened wide, as though he had struck her instead of attempted to protect her.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “What in the actual hell—”

  “There is another bomb.” He spit the words like they themselves were a ticking time bomb.

  All the color in her face drained away. From her look, he could tell that the air had left her just as it had left him. He
wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that it would be okay. That this little setback was nothing. That they were safe. That they hadn’t been found and that no matter what, nothing would happen to her while he was there.

  But he couldn’t lie to her.

  She had every right to be frightened.

  He didn’t have to like it. And it made his bones ache in a way he had never thought possible just from looking at another person and empathizing with what they were going through, and yet, here he was.

  Judy walked into the living room, drying her hands on an embroidered cheesecloth dish towel that reminded him of his grandmother. The embroidery was green and pink, a little girl in a bonnet and a daisy in her hair.

  “I thought you guys were heading out. Did you change your minds? Forget something?” Judy smiled, but as she looked at Natalie, her smile disappeared.

  The delicate towel slipped from her hands and fell to a heap on the floor. She ran to Natalie and wrapped her in her arms just as he had wanted to do. “It’s going to be okay.”

  The steel and stone he had put around his heart started to crack ever so slightly.

  “Someone planted a bomb underneath my car.”

  “When? Now? Last night?” Judy asked, taking over the questioning from Natalie like they were of one mind.

  “Mom, it’s okay,” Natalie said, nodding as she wiggled from her arms. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I’m sure it is just a training exercise or something. Isn’t that right, Evan?” She gave him a look to play along.

  He nodded, but he didn’t like this. He’d had enough of the lies and the deceit. It hadn’t gotten them anywhere but sleeping in a room alone together—and then falling into one another’s arms and making the world more complicated.

  “Judge DeSalvo, I think that, given the circumstances, we need to tell your mother the truth.” He looked at Judy. Her shoulders fell and there was tiredness in her eyes that he had seen every time he’d ever watched a heart break.

  Natalie sighed, giving up on their charade. “You’re right, Mr. Spade.”

  She made his name sound like it was something less-than, but it could have been the resignation that marred her words.

  “Mom,” Natalie continued, “Mr. Spade was assigned to protect a fellow judge. There has been a series of attacks and we are concerned for my safety. As you can surmise, given the nature of this latest blow, we aren’t completely out of the woods. Clearly, someone must still be targeting me.”

  “Do you know who it is?” Judy answered.

  “Not yet, but we are working on tracking down leads.”

  He had to jump into action, to do something that would make this all okay and ensure their safety. He took out his phone and dialed his team.

  A.J. answered. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Hey, tool bag, you guys doing okay?” Evan asked, making his way out of the living room and away from the two ladies. No doubt they would need a minute while Natalie filled Judy in on all the details.

  “We are holed up on the homestead. All is good. You? Zoey said you had found yourself in a little action yesterday. Shit blow over yet?” A.J. asked.

  “No, but that is why I’m calling. We got an IED. I need the team to come out, see what we can do to neutralize the threat.” He tapped in the address and sent it to A.J. via text. “And I’m hoping you guys can get me some kind of information from it. Something to narrow down the list of suspects.”

  He could hear A.J. turn away from the phone and give whomever was in the office with him the order to get everyone pulled together.

  A.J. had always gotten such a high from those moments, the rush of the call to action and the thrill of the unknown. It felt so good on that side of the ticket, and a whole hell of a lot better than it did when Evan was the one who had been forced to call in the team. Evan couldn’t do this alone, but at the same time it made him feel weak that he had to turn to them. Yet, he didn’t know why. This kind of thing, calling for assistance when he needed it, was just another day on the job.

  Why did it bother him so much this time?

  A.J. came back to the phone. “We will be there within a couple of hours. We’ll put together an extraction plan, but for now you need to sit still. We don’t want you getting into any type of confrontation with the enemy without your backup in place. Got it?”

  His brother, always the man to spring into action. No emotions. No questions. Just see the hill, take the hill. No bullshit and zero room for anything more than survival.

  Chapter Seven

  Another bomb. Another freaking bomb. Before yesterday, Natalie had thought that car bombs were something that only really happened in war-torn nations and action movies. They certainly didn’t happen in her mother’s driveway in a tiny town in the middle of the woods in Montana. This just didn’t make sense.

  Until now she had really started to believe that the person behind it was Sanders or Rencher, after talking through that case with Evan last night. But she didn’t recall that either of them had ever had this kind of know-how...or had been trained in the administration of nerve agents. Whoever was trying to kill her and Judge Hanes was a highly skilled mercenary...someone just like Evan.

  She glanced in the direction of the driveway, where he was now standing with several other people who resembled him. The dark-haired man to his left looked almost identical to him, but was a few years older and had at least three inches on him. They had the same dark, brooding stare and as the man looked toward the house, she noticed that they had the same smoldering gaze when they were deep in thought.

  Evan couldn’t have been behind anything like this.

  Her mind wandered. He had been present for the nerve agent attack, the bombing and the bombing attempt. In court, a lawyer would have argued that his being at all three events was nothing more than coincidence—circumstantial evidence—and there was nothing that directly linked him to the crimes. But what if whomever was coming after her and Judge Hanes was really targeting him?

  She nearly laughed out loud at the thought. The idea was outlandish. He had been hired because Judge Hanes had received a threat; he hadn’t brought trouble to them. She was just being crazy and trying to find fault where none lay.

  Though she wasn’t sure which of her actions had brought violence to her doorstep, she wasn’t the kind of woman who would shirk accountability. If she had triggered this, then she was the one who needed to take responsibility for it, and then work to make sure it was peacefully resolved. As much as she didn’t understand the why, she did understand her duty to herself and the people who had elected her a judge.

  And maybe that was exactly what this was—someone’s best attempt to keep her and Hanes from doing their job. She had been looking at the last few cases, but she had been foolish not to look ahead.

  She wished she had her cell phone so she could pull up her caseload. Regardless, whether she located her enemies or not, they would continue to breathe down her neck. She was at their mercy until they chose to reveal themselves.

  What kind of hellish reality had she found herself in?

  She thrived on always listening to explanations, having some kind of answer at her beck and call, and then administering judgment with the strike of her gavel. Yet, here she was, stuck in the mire of anonymity and secrets. She could only hope that it wouldn’t last much longer.

  Whoever was gunning for her would have to step out of obscurity soon. She knew their game; it was a game she had played in a million different ways, and a game she could win.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Judy asked, putting her hand on her shoulder and pulling her from her moodiness.

  “Yes. You?” She forced a smile. “I feel like I need to apologize. I didn’t intend on—”

  “We are rarely allowed the ability to have our intentions reflect our reality. I know you did what you thought was best.�
�� Judy gave her a light kiss to the cheek, the same action she had used when she was younger and at odds with her soul. Even then, it had helped to calm the raging tempests. “And even if you had brought an entire army to my doorstep, I would still say let them come. You are more important to me than anything. If you need a safe haven, my doors are always open.”

  She touched Judy’s cheek as they stood together watching the war outside her window. “You are far too kind to me. You always have been. I hope you know how grateful I am to have you in my life. Always.”

  “I could say the same thing to you, my dear.” Judy patted her hand and gave it a squeeze. “My life was empty without you in it. You have given me purpose. My only regret is that I don’t get to have more time with you. So really, if nothing else, this time together is a gift.”

  Only Judy could see a fight for life and death as a gift. It was this perspective that made her so special. She was one of those rare people who always saw the world through rose-colored glasses and looked for opportunities in the hardest of days.

  “Why are you talking like this?” Judy’s eyes darkened with concern. “What is going on? Is there something else you aren’t telling me about what’s happening here?”

  “No,” she said, feeling the weight of the word. “I’m sure this will all be taken care of shortly and we will all be safe.”

  Evan walked toward the door, his eyes even darker than Judy’s as he looked in at them. Had he found something else? Some new threat?

  She was strong, life had stripped any softness from her, but she wasn’t sure how much more she could bear.

  She had a gnawing feeling she had just told Judy a lie. Safety was a promise she shouldn’t and couldn’t make.

  Evan made his way inside, and the curl of his shoulders and the heaviness in his steps made her want to tell him to sit down and rest. He wasn’t the kind to stop, at least she didn’t think so. But what did she really know about this man, this man whom her heart ached for? Maybe the ache was nothing more than some kind of hero worship or Stockholm Syndrome—though the only person who kept her prisoner was herself.