Without Justice

by Carsen Taite

  Seth’s tone made it clear he wasn’t happy about her decision, but she didn’t care. She would do this right or not at all. The memory of her argument with Cade about the case surfaced, and Emily’s first thought was that if Cade did call, she could tell Cade she wasn’t a prosecutorial jerk after all. She shook her head. No, if Cade called, the last thing she wanted to talk about was this case.

  *

  After three hours of staring at police reports and the evidence in the case, Cade told Brody she’d be back the next day, and she left his stuffy office. Asher had left an hour earlier so she could make her deadline for tomorrow’s edition of The Risley Report. Her first story was going to be about how quickly the sheriff’s department had rushed to zero in on a suspect, even though they had yet to find the gun involved. She’d follow that up with a piece about the inherent unreliability of eyewitness testimony. Cade had pointed her in the direction of some research on the subject.

  Cade stepped down from the porch and looked around. She didn’t see Eric, her US Marshal babysitter, but she suspected he was nearby. She considered her next action in light of whether she wanted him to witness what she was about to do. Deciding to hell with it, she pulled out her phone and sent Emily a text. Are you free? Can we talk? In person.

  She looked at the time on her phone. Almost seven thirty. With the trial only a couple of weeks away, Emily was probably still working. No doubt, if this were her case to prosecute she’d be working around the clock until the trial was over.

  But if it were her case, would she be pursuing the charges? Cade liked to think she wouldn’t, that she would have opposed the quick trial date to allow more time to develop the evidence and force the cops to explore all angles, but it was easy to say that from her position on the outside. Emily was an elected official, and as much as she probably didn’t want to admit it, politics necessarily played into her decisions. The local news outlets were applauding the swift move toward justice as well as Emily’s decision to try the case herself, and Cade could hardly blame her for getting caught up in the momentum of what could be the headline case of her career.

  Her phone buzzed to signal an incoming text. Yes to both. Where are you?

  Cade typed: Outside the courthouse. She hit send, and then quickly added: Not stalking you. I promise, hoping a little levity would take the edge off.

  Meet you there in five.

  Cade shoved her phone in her pocket and paced to kill time. Twenty steps to the end of the block and twenty steps back. She resisted the temptation to check her watch, and repeated the process several times, varying the length of her stride to keep from thinking about what she planned to say when Emily showed up. On her fourth turn to head back to the courthouse, she stopped cold.

  Emily was standing at the bottom of the steps. She was wearing the same coat she’d had on the night they’d first met, in this very spot. The weather was cool, like it had been that night, and Emily was as beautiful as she remembered, but everything else had changed. Cade took a deep breath and walked toward her, ready to tackle the obstacles between them.

  As Cade drew closer, Emily called out, “If I’d known you like to hang around courthouses so much, I would have offered you a tour early on.”

  Cade smiled, happy they were starting this conversation with some of the easy banter she’d enjoyed between them. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day.”

  Emily stepped closer, a tentative smile playing along the edge of her mouth. “I’m glad you reached out.”

  “Me too.”

  “Walk with me?”

  Cade nodded, and Emily locked their arms and led her down the street, in the opposite direction from Brody’s office. Cade wanted to ask where they were going, but she didn’t want to break the spell with details. Not yet. For now it was enough they were arm-in-arm, sharing a quiet moment alone.

  At the end of the block, Emily pointed at an arbor marking the entrance to a small park. Cade followed her inside, taking in the quaint gaslights and iron benches with ornate scrollwork on the backs. She wondered how she’d missed this romantic spot in downtown Bodark.

  They’d barely settled onto a bench before Emily said, “I’ve missed you.” Her voice was low, her tone serious.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “I’d about given up.” Emily’s voice cracked as she delivered the short declaration.

  Cade searched her eyes and saw a flash of hurt. She hated to think she was responsible for causing Emily any pain, and all she could think about was clearing the air between them. “I need to talk to you, but…” Cade paused, her explanation stalled in the face of Emily’s hopeful expression.

  “But?”

  “It has to do with the Miller case.” Cade blurted out the words and watched Emily’s body stiffen at the mention of the case.

  “Considering how our last conversation on this topic ended,” Emily said, “maybe we should talk about something else.”

  “I understand, I really do, but it’s important.”

  Emily shook her head. “But it’s not. Trust me, I have an entire public to check my work, from the press to the county commissioners to the defense bar.” She reached for Cade’s hands, locking their fingers. “I’m truly sorry for the things I said to you. I was defensive when I should have just said talking about work was the last thing I wanted to do after we’d spent the evening making love.” She pulled Cade’s hands to her mouth and grazed them with her lips.

  The light and simple touch sent charges through Cade’s core, but Emily’s next words threatened to push her over the edge.

  “And talking about work is the last thing I want to do right now.”

  There was no mistaking the strong promise behind Emily’s declaration or the burning passion in her gaze, and Cade couldn’t agree more. She didn’t want to talk about the case, about her true identity, or the very real possibility a ruthless killer was on her trail. The only thing she wanted was to take Emily home, rip her clothes off, and spend the rest of the night worshiping her body. The desire was strong and it surged through her veins, warming her from the inside out. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and she could have what she wanted.

  For now. But tomorrow, when the sun came up, nothing would have changed. She’d still be Cade Kelly, posing as a librarian, hiding from a killer, and working with Emily’s opponent to help the man Emily had charged with murder.

  Carefully, gently, Cade pulled away and fisted her hands against her side to keep from taking what she knew she couldn’t have. Not yet.

  Emily’s eyes clouded with disappointment. “What is it?”

  “I want you.”

  “I hear a very loud but, again.” Emily’s smile looked forced. “Please don’t tell me you called me out here so you could walk out on me again.”

  If Emily wouldn’t hear her out, that was exactly what she had to do, to preserve her own dignity and to respect whatever chance they might have to find something real and meaningful between them. Cade stood and paced to try to siphon off the adrenaline that was pounding big beats through her heart and her head. She’d made a mistake coming to Emily like this, armed with only words, to try to convince her to point her prosecution elsewhere. She didn’t want to risk another argument in their already tenuous relationship. She should have known that face-to-face, she wouldn’t be able to risk the rift the truth would cause between them.

  It had been so much easier to share what she knew about the case with Brody, not just because he wanted to believe what she had to say, but because to him, she was an objective outsider, but to Emily she appeared disloyal by not taking her side.

  Objective outsider. That was the key. She could get the facts to Emily another way, one that didn’t involve her directly. She knew exactly how to get it done.

  Which left the issue about her identity—the biggest lie between them. She had to tell Emily the truth if she had any hope of a future with her, but this wasn’t the time. Not when Fontana was closing in, not when Emily
was consumed with the upcoming trial. She needed to let Emily know the real her, and blurting it out by gaslight in the middle of a public park wasn’t at all what she had in mind. Desperate for a solution, she came up with a hasty temporary fix.

  Cade stepped closer to Emily and grasped her hands again. When their eyes met, it took every ounce of self-control not to fall into her arms, but instead she plunged into her hastily prepared explanation. “I know you’ve felt distance between us.”

  Emily started to say something, but Cade placed her finger on her lips. “Wait, let me get this out.” She took a breath and started again. “I’m sorry because I want to be close to you. I want nothing to come between us. From the first moment we met, I’ve been drawn to you, but I have a few things I need to take care of before I can be the person you deserve.”

  “‘Person I deserve’? What does that even mean?” Emily raised her hand and stroked Cade’s cheek, a gentle and loving touch. “Cade, baby, you can tell me anything.”

  The endearment elicited a light moan, and Cade resisted the urge to melt into her touch. “I know. And I will.” She leaned in and kissed Emily, soft at first, but then hard and claiming, breaking away only when she was out of breath. “Go and try your case. I’ll be waiting when you’re done. I’ll make everything right then. I promise.”

  She punctuated her good-bye by stepping back, and the stark cold of familiar loneliness washed over her. She was doing the right thing. Kennedy and her people would catch Fontana, and Cade would leave the program, come out to Emily, and beg for a chance to build a future together. A few weeks wasn’t very much time to wait when their entire lives hung in the balance.

  *

  It was after dusk by the time Cade arrived home. As she approached her front door, she made a mental note of the lighting outside and remembered what she’d learned from the police reports at Brody’s office. She found it difficult to believe Wade’s next-door neighbor, Ralph Thatcher, had been able to identify Kevin Miller. According to the report, Thatcher had seen Miller from his car window about fifty feet away at dusk. Granted, Thatcher had seen Miller in the neighborhood before, but that led her to believe he had assumed, rather than actually known it was Miller he’d seen standing over Wade’s body.

  It was a good theory, but when she’d laid it out for Brody, he told her Miller had already admitted to both him and the police he’d been at the murder scene, only in his version, he’d shown up after the fact. Miller’s story was he’d been going door-to-door looking for odd jobs when he saw Wade lying in his driveway next to his SUV. He saw a knife next to Wade’s body, and he could tell, based on the extent of Wade’s injuries, he wasn’t long for this world if he wasn’t dead already. What happened next made it clear Miller was a despicable person but not necessarily a murderer.

  Hungry and desperate, Miller had plucked the dead man’s wallet from his hand. Then, when Thatcher pulled up in his car and yelled out the window, Miller picked up the knife and ran. Later, he took the cash from the wallet and ditched it near the creek at the back of the subdivision, but he hung on to the knife.

  Cade checked her mailbox, found it empty, and then she unlocked her front door and stepped inside. At first she didn’t notice anything out of order, but when she walked into the living room, she spotted a small stack of mail sitting on the coffee table, and she froze. Had Fontana found her? The possibility paralyzed her until she heard a familiar voice.

  “I brought in your mail.”

  Cade whirled on Kennedy who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a bottle of Mexican Coke in one hand. “What the hell?”

  “I let myself in. Don’t worry. I made sure your nosey neighbor wasn’t watching.” Kennedy took a drink from the bottle. “We need to talk.”

  Cade strode past her into the kitchen, purposefully ignoring her comment while she worked to settle her frayed nerves. She opened the fridge and spied another Coke bottle. She grabbed it and held it up in the air. “You moving in?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she used the edge of the kitchen counter to pop the cap and took a deep drink. The rush of cold sweet fizz settled her nerves and she took another. When the bottle was half empty, she set it on the counter and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “This isn’t working for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You, here, in my house whenever you want to be, and your pal, Hulk Hogan, following me around. I need you and your people to back off.”

  Kennedy crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels. “Is that so? Would that make it easier for you to go around doing stupid things?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cade took another drink to hide the lie. She knew exactly why Kennedy was pissed, but she didn’t care.

  “Eric told me about your little visit with that blogger, and how the two of you went to see Brody Nichols. I need to know exactly what you told Nichols.”

  “I told him the truth.”

  “About what?”

  “I told him I didn’t think his client killed Sam Wade. I floated a theory about how the method used to kill Wade was overkill for a transient robber, but it was consistent with mob killings. I suggested he might want to research other similar killings, and I volunteered to help him.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing. Key word doing. I’ve spent the last few months letting everyone else take the lead, but it’s time for me to take charge of my own destiny.” Cade’s confidence rose as she spoke, and she grew more determined with every word. “You can have your pal follow me all over this county, but you can’t make me stop trying to find the truth. An innocent man could get convicted if I don’t speak up. Of course you could clue in the local cops that they may have the wrong guy.” She waited a few beats, but Kennedy’s silence told her everything she needed to know. “Like I said, you can’t make me stop.”

  “Would you stop if you thought your girlfriend might be in danger?”

  Kennedy’s words were like stealth bombs blowing away her bravado, but she wasn’t sure which had the bigger impact, danger or girlfriend. “What?”

  “You should sit down.”

  Cade ignored the warning. Whatever Kennedy had to say, she wanted to be poised for action. “Tell me.”

  “Eric called to tell me you met with Emily Sinclair after you left Nichols’s office,” Kennedy said. “Am I supposed to believe you didn’t already tell her your theory about her case?”

  “You can believe what you want, but we didn’t talk about the case.” Fueled by anxiety at the very idea Emily might be in danger, Cade strode across the room until she was inches from Kennedy. “I swear if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll—”

  “Yeah, don’t finish that sentence. I kind of like you and I’d hate to have to arrest you for threatening a federal officer.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a jump drive.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll show you. Where’s your computer?”

  Cade led her to the guest room, which she’d set up as a combination office/den. She flipped open her laptop, punched the power button, and held out her hand. When the screen came to life, she inserted the drive and clicked it open. It contained two files, named simply Sinclair1 and Sinclair2. “What are these?”

  “Martel talked. It took a lot of coaxing, but he gave up the address for Fontana’s place outside of Chicago. It doesn’t look like he’s been there in a while, but we found this drive and a few others hidden in the floorboards. Along with some damning paperwork about the Oliveris’ business operations, they contain video files and some photographs.” She pointed at the computer screen. “Most of the video clips had to do with Senator Sinclair. Apparently, the Oliveris are very interested in making his acquaintance seeing as how he was recently appointed head of the senate judiciary committee. Seems they have a certain judge in their pocket they would like appointed to a federal bench.”

  Cade�
�s mind whirred with the information, but she still didn’t quite follow. “I don’t get it. What does this have to do with Emily?”

  Kennedy pulled the laptop toward her and punched a few buttons. “Vincente Oliveri told Fontana to start gathering information about Senator Sinclair. Here’s one of the things he found.”

  She pressed play and moved the screen so they could both see the newsclip. It took Cade a moment to recognize the lobby of the Bodark Inn. The camera panned and she saw red, white, and blue balloons lining the entrance to the ballroom and the sign she recognized from her first night in town: Sinclair for District Attorney, A New Era.

  She turned to Kennedy. “What is this?”

  “Keep watching.”

  Cade looked back at the screen, but she knew what was coming next. The camera panned and there, standing next to the bellman, shaking her way out of her drenched coat, stood Emily Sinclair. Cade’s breath hitched as she remembered the first time she’d seen her. She’d been captivated from the start, and she was captivated now. She watched as the camera tracked Emily who squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and strode toward the entrance to the ballroom.

  And there in the corner of the screen, like an eerie mirror, Cade stood off to the side, eyes glued on Emily’s every move. For a brief moment, their eyes met and Emily flashed a brilliant smile, and then she was gone and the screen went black.

  “What does this mean?” Cade didn’t bother trying to hide the edge in her voice.

  “It means Fontana definitely knows where you are. And he’s been watching Emily too.” Kennedy typed on the laptop keyboard again, opened the second folder, and started slowly scrolling through a handful of still photographs.

  Cade gasped. The first picture was a crisp, clear shot of her, standing next to Emily outside the Bodark Inn, the night Emily introduced her to Becca’s secret coffee haunt. The next few were her alone—walking into the campus library, getting into her car at the end of her shift, standing in her driveway at home.