Then my pulse kicked when I noticed I had a text message. To date Gabe was the only person I knew who sent text messages. That usually meant he wasn’t free to speak to me on the phone.
I opened the message. “Meet me. Grandfather’s office tonight. Urgent. I found the connection. Gabe.”
What? I punched in his number. When I only got his voice mail, I said, “Gabe. I’m out of court. Call me.”
Tapping the phone against the palm of my hand, I rose. What was going on? Had Gabe succeeded in connecting the Lopez case to the Castillo family today? I looked at the grandfather clock in the foyer. Seven o’clock. It would be dark by the time I reached the old courthouse, but they had tightened security since Grace’s death.
I strode toward my bedroom to change clothes but ducked first into my office. I went to the safe, opened it and took out the Beretta I kept there. Hilary had drilled into me to be prepared for any exigency. A little safety insurance this time wouldn’t hurt. After all, every time I’d been on the premises over the past few months, someone had tried to kill me.
Less than an hour later the security guard let me in. Other than a construction crew working late, no one else was there, he assured me. At least I had my answer how Gabe had gotten inside. He had gone back to working undercover with my ex’s crew.
I climbed up the dimly lit stairs to the last floor and then walked down the silent, empty hall. Where was the work crew? As a precaution, I moved my gun from the tote to the pocket of the jacket I wore. I’m not sure what I had expected, but I had dressed for stealth and speed like a cat burglar—head-to-toe in black, including my athletic shoes.
Or a female version of Gabe, I wryly acknowledged.
The only light spilled from the office that had been my grandfather’s. Quietly, I stole to the door, pausing, listening for any noise that would indicate someone was there. When I heard nothing, I stepped inside. The room was empty. The only sign of life was the desk lamp switched on. A few papers on the desk fluttered as if a breeze stirred them.
The silence had an expectant quality, as if the room had been waiting for me. The scene was so surreal that the hairs on my neck stood on end. Yet I sensed no threat.
Get a grip. Aggravated, I yanked out my phone and punched in a text message to Gabe. “I’m here. Where are you?”
No telling how long he’d be since I still couldn’t hear the crew. They must be on the other side of the courthouse. I wandered over to the desk and aimlessly shifted through the papers. Apparently, no one had taken over Grace’s tasks of readying the office for the museum. A labeled ex-pando caught my eye: Original Contents From Judge Rochelle’s desk.
I frowned. I didn’t recall this being here the night Gabe and I had been shot at. I smoothed out a crumpled sticky note affixed to the front. “Found wedged behind Grace’s desk. Cindy Overbeck.” Hmm, the enterprising Cindy certainly hadn’t wasted any time checking out Grace’s work area. Maybe I’d better recall her to the stand to find out what else she may have found.
I sat down, removed a stack of documents and flipped through them. Letters and notes in my grandfather’s handwriting. I would ask the acting director Derek Jones if I could borrow them to review at my leisure. They represented one more connection to the man Jonathan Rochelle had been.
I came across a rubber-banded bundle of photographs and pursed my lips. Careless. Since the rubber could damage the paper, they should be in a protective envelope. Handling the photos by their edges, I removed the band and looked through them. I froze at the sight of the eight-by-ten family portrait. My grandfather stood smiling with pride, his hand around my grandmother. Tucked into his other side was a young girl, equally beaming.
My mother.
I waited for the usual flood of bitterness whenever I saw her, but none came. How could I hate this girl, her face so full of innocence and happiness?
Perhaps once this trial was over, once I vindicated my grandparents, I could confront my feelings about my mother and at last move on.
It’s time.
I jumped. I hadn’t spoken, but the words echoed in my mind, almost as if someone else had whispered them. Well, it may be time, but not this precise moment.
Defiantly, I placed the photograph to the side and looked at the next one, clipped to a sheet of handwritten notes. Faded and blurred, I had to squint at the group shot of four men, all dressed up for a charity function, judging by the crowd in the background. Despite the thirty-five-year difference, I immediately recognized three of the men. I glanced at the sheet of notes, began to set it aside and halted, stunned by the implications before me.
What had Shirley Cameron said? That Jonathan always wrote out his decisions.
My hands shook as I held the edges of my grandfather’s last decision in the matter of State versus Lopez. When I’d finished reading, I had my answer.
Bribes normally consisted of money, but not always. A bribe could also be the promise of power.
How many did it take to fix a trial? Answer: three.
A low sound came from the hallway. Was someone moaning? Quickly, I stuffed the photo and decision in my bag, stood and walked to the door.
The sound came again, to my right.
Hugging close to the wall, I crept down the hall. Once I left the circle of light from my grandfather’s office, the corridor became pitch-black. Blessing lessons learned from Gabe, I pulled out a pencil-thin flashlight and turned it on.
As I continued, I spied a denser dark spot in the wall across from me. Shining the light on it revealed a gaping hole and a protruding boot. A boot with a foot in it.
My heart in my throat, I ran across the hall. “Gabe!” I gave out a low cry as I knelt in the opening. He lay in a sprawl as if someone had dragged him inside and dumped his body in what once must have been a utility closet. I flashed the light in his face, causing his eyelids to flutter, but he didn’t open his eyes. A long, dark wound slashed across his forehead.
My God. He had been shot. I felt for his pulse with relief sweeping through me when I found it weak but steady.
Help. I needed to get help. I fumbled for my phone, juggling the flashlight, when an errant beam caught a dull gleam of white. I swallowed—hard—and raised the light.
Propped against the back of the small room were two skeletons, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. The faded tatters of clothes evidenced their sex: a man and a woman.
At long last, I had found my grandparents’ grave.
I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to suppress the scream welling deep inside of me. By my grandmother an object glittered on the floor. Gathering the frayed edges of my control around me, I reached forward to pick it up. The movement saved my life.
Wood and plaster splinters showered me as a bullet slammed into the wall above my head. I dropped the flashlight, dragged my gun out of my pocket, twisted and fired. Off balance and blind as a bat, I didn’t stand a prayer of hitting anything or anyone, but I wanted my attacker to know I wasn’t helpless.
As my gunfire echoed in the hallway, I rose to a crouch and then ran down the hall, blessing the fact I wore black. I hated to leave Gabe, but if I stayed in its narrow confines, the closet would have become our tomb as it had been for my grandparents. As the new target, I could at least draw the attacker’s attention from Gabe.
A muffled oath and then the squeak of a sole against the marble floor told me the chase was on. My options were limited. Most rooms would be death traps on this level. If I could reach the stairs, I could go up to the roof or go down.
When I stubbed my toe, I fell forward, cracking my knee and losing my gun as I hit the floor. Despite the blinding pain, I could almost feel the killer’s excitement intensify as he honed in on my location. I rolled to my feet and, for a few precious seconds, ran my hands over the floor, trying to find my gun. My left grazed something hard but it was a piece of wood rather than the gun. Probably construction debris, but it would have to do.
The killer was behind me. I curled my fi
ngers around the wood and rose. Limping, I made my way to the stairwell. Deliberately, I scuffed my foot on the floor as I removed the clip from my hair. I waited for two heartbeats and then tossed the clip down the stairs.
At the clatter I pressed myself into the slight alcove of a door. I didn’t even dare to try its handle. Holding my breath, I prayed the killer couldn’t hear my hammering heart.
Oh no. My blond hair. Once I had ridden along with the county’s drug SWAT team as an observer during a nighttime drug raid. The captain had made me wear a dark knit cap, stating my hair made me a perfect shooting target.
Not daring to move again, I craned my head back.
The sound of my attacker’s shoes stopped. His breathing sounded close, too close. A powerful flashlight panned down the hallway past my hiding place. I gripped the wood tighter. Then the beam disappeared and the killer ran down the stairs.
In the glow of the light I saw his face, and another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
After waiting for a few more seconds, I made my way back down the hall. When I passed the closet, I yearned to check on Gabe but knew I couldn’t afford the time. Even now our attacker might have discovered I had duped him. I couldn’t underestimate him.
I slipped into my grandfather’s office, grabbed a few sheets of paper from the desk and hurried to the inner door that led to his courtroom. I turned the handle and opened it. The creak of hinges sounded like a gunshot.
Damn.
I slipped through and closed the door behind me. Although the room was as dark as a tomb, I knew I was on the upper balcony. As part of the restoration this two-level courtroom had been brought back to its former grandeur. On the upper level columns flanked the door and several rows of chairs crowded the narrow space. I knew at the base a construction rail ran the length of the balcony.
Running down the steps, I scattered the paper across one of the risers. Then I returned to the top and ducked behind the column on the left, my opponent’s vulnerable side as he was right-handed. I pressed as close to the wall as much as I could and, with my free hand, tucked my hair under the collar of my jacket. After this was all over, I was going to give serious consideration to dying my hair dark.
The squeal of the rusty door hinges wailed out. I raised the board I still carried. The flashlight’s beam split the dark and a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. He panned the light over the rows of chairs and then honed in on the paper.
“Come on out, Katherine,” called out my ex-husband.
Juan went down one step. In the eerie glow from his flashlight I could see the gleam of the revolver he carried. “Game’s over. I took care of the guard and locked the lower-level doors so there’s no escape.”
He took another step. “It’s only you we want. I’ll let that precious boyfriend of yours go.”
Right, that’s why Gabe was already in the closet. I was only going to get one chance. As I tightened my grip, the air stirred behind me. Was someone else in here? I peered but saw no movement. No matter. My window of opportunity was upon me. I had to take it. I stepped from behind the column.
Juan bent to pick one of the sheets of paper. “Does he make you hot, Ice Princess? Are you a woman yet?”
More woman than Juan could ever handle.
I dashed down the steps. Juan must have sensed me for he straightened up. Instead of his head, my swing caught him in the chest. Still, he staggered back to the edge of the balcony. Again, I swung the board but this time he threw up his arms and blocked the blow.
“Bitch! I’ll make you pay for this. I’ll put a bullet in that lovely face of yours. I almost got you the last time you came to your grandfather’s chambers. This time I won’t miss.”
I struck at him again.
This time I caught him on the shoulder. He howled and crashed against the railing.
Juan cried out again but this time with terror. He flailed about wildly. A sharp crack reverberated throughout the chambers followed by Juan’s screams as he fell through the broken rail. His cry came to an abrupt halt with a sickening thud.
I slowly made my way to the railing and looked down. Juan’s body lay sprawled like a broken doll’s in the center aisle of the courtroom.
I took a deep breath. When this was all over and done with, I would have a lot to tell the police and Gabe, but there was one thing I would take to my grave. In those last moments before Juan fell, I felt my grandfather’s strength around me.
Wrapping my fingers around my necklace, I whispered, “Thank you, Granddad.”
I raced up the steps, through the office and back down the hallway. My flashlight and bag still lay where I had dropped them in the closet.
Gabe had moved! He had shifted positions to lying on his back. I dropped to my knees and crawled in beside him.
“Gabe, can you hear me?” He winced but didn’t respond. I pressed my two fingers against his throat. His pulse didn’t seem quite as thready.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed 911 and called in the emergency. Even though the police station was just a few blocks down Banyan, it would still take a while for the first crew to arrive. In the meantime I had to wait helplessly.
Damn the first-aid training. I needed to hold him. I scooted as close to him as I could. Carefully, I raised his head and propped it in my lap. His eyelids fluttered open. “What took you so long, babe?” His voice was hoarse and rough, but it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
Avoiding his wound, I stroked the hair from his forehead. “Oh, you know how traffic is always a bear at this time of the night.”
“Took a bullet when I went to investigate the hole in the hallway. Kept fading in and out. But Juan bragged about using my phone to lure you here.” Gabe lifted his hand and I gripped it. “Did you get Juan?”
A memory of Juan’s face when he had been young and vibrant flashed in my mind. The man had been my first love and now he was dead because of me.
No! Not because of me. He was dead because he had taken the wrong path years ago. He had thrown our life together away because of greed.
I pushed away any regret, raised Gabe’s hand and kissed it. “I got him.”
“Good girl.” Gabe closed his eyes. “I knew you could.”
And Gabe’s belief in me and the events over the past few months had made all the difference in the world. I no longer was the innocent girl Juan had seduced or the insecure woman Harold had betrayed.
The Kate Rochelle who sat in this musty closet, holding the man she loved, was a woman I could respect and be at peace with.
A glint of gold nearby on the floor caught my eye. I had almost forgotten about the piece of jewelry that had saved my head from being blown apart. Without jostling Gabe, I reached out, picked it up and with a jolt recognized the medallion’s significance.
I looked at my grandparents’ remains huddled together in death as they had been in life and whispered, “I know the truth now. Justice will be served.”
A sense of calm stole over the closet as I waited for the police to arrive.
Chapter 19
The next afternoon, on a great swell of anticipation, I entered the courtroom. Last night when I had called Judge Rodriguez, without hesitation she had granted me a recess until two o’clock today. Working late, I had prepared witness subpoenas to be served for today’s proceeding.
First thing this morning I had been on the phone with Carling to get a process server when Gabe, with a white bandage across his forehead, had shown up on my doorstep. Despite my concern about his condition, he had been all too delighted to serve this particular set of subpoenas. As important as the service was, I had been happy to leave them in his capable hands.
At my approach down the court aisle, Jared Manning rose. “Katherine, are you all right?”
Juan’s death in the old courthouse had been news item number one on all the early-morning news programs. I smiled smoothly, revealing nothing of my inner tension. “I’m fine.”
“I told the judge you could ha
ve a continuance if you needed one.”
Touched, I shook my head. “I don’t need one, but thank you.” I handed him a list of the witnesses I expected to call. They had all appeared on the pretrial, but neither side had anticipated calling them. Last night had changed that.
Jared let out a long, low whistle. “Hell, I’d hate to be at your family’s dinner table tonight.”
I couldn’t have agreed with him more as I saw the couple enter the chambers. So Gabe had been successful in his endeavors this morning. Hilary held herself stiffly and icily ignored me as she found a seat. Colin shot me a look filled with confusion, hurt and…fear?…before he followed her.
I sighed, wishing for one moment, that I was anywhere but here. Straightening my shoulders, I sat down. When Lloyd was escorted to our table, I spoke to him briefly, but my focus remained on what was about to occur.
I had to break down someone I loved in order to get justice for my client.
My roll of antacid tablets was in my pocket, but now was not the time for a crutch. I had to meet this head-on.
“All rise,” called out the bailiff as Judge Rodriguez entered the room. She took her chair and looked at me.
“Call your first witness, Ms. Rochelle.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” I rose. “The Defense calls Colin Wilkes.”
I watched my uncle take the witness box and be sworn in. He held his head high as he affirmed his testimony would be the truth. I prayed that it would, as I was counting on it.
Quickly I took him through the preliminary background questions, ignoring the murmur that swept through the jury and gallery when he disclosed that he was my great-uncle.
“Mr. Wilkes, were you the defense counsel in the matter of State versus Lopez?”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Jared stood up. “Relevance.”
“Judge, I’ll be connecting it.”
“Ms. Rochelle, I’ll grant you some leeway, but if you don’t furnish this court with the relevance within short order, I’ll strike the testimony.”
Courting Danger Page 23
