The Hill

by Carol Ericson

  Celine’s eyes widened behind her trendy glasses as she took in the view of Judd stretching, his muscles shifting beneath his crisp white shirt. She swallowed. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything, Judd—more coffee, water, supplies.”

  A back rub. A soft place to rest your head. A mother for your children.

  The thoughts marching across Celine’s face could be London’s own.

  London dipped behind the desk and grabbed her briefcase. Might as well look as though she knew what she was doing, even if she was clueless.

  Judd looked up, oblivious to the drooling females before him. “Knock ’em dead.”

  London reached back, plucking the pins from her hair and shaking it free from the bun. “I will.”

  * * *

  JUDD RUBBED HIS eyes and shifted his chair to take in the view out the window. Spectacular. It still couldn’t make up for being ensconced in an office in a suit all morning.

  The job of CEO of an international corporation did not suit London—and it had nothing to do with her intelligence, her ability or her crazy ways. Maybe a little to do with her crazy ways. She struck him as a free spirit. This job might as well have free spirits need not apply stamped across its letterhead.

  What had a hardheaded businessman like Spencer Breck been thinking when he’d left control of the company to her? Maybe he’d done it for spite.

  Maybe father and daughter never got along. She hadn’t seemed all that broken up over his death. Of course, what gave him any idea that he could adequately judge grief? He’d stuffed his away for years.

  His brothers had been stoked when the real Phone Book Killer had revealed himself, but the news had left him empty—as usual. His old man had still offed himself. What kind of man did that to his family?

  From all accounts, his father had been a good detective. When the Phone Book Killer had started his killing spree, the killer had begun sending messages to Detective Joseph Brody. The SFPD brass had become suspicious about the messages, and then evidence linking his father to the crimes turned up. His father was innocent, so why didn’t he stick around and fight for justice instead of ending it all with a jump from the Golden Gate Bridge?

  Celine knocked on the door for the tenth time in an hour, and he invited her in. This time she had company.

  “Judd? Sorry to bother you again, but we need to leave something on London’s desk.”

  The older woman with Celine scowled at him over her glasses, her gray eyebrows meeting over her nose. “Who are you?”

  Celine’s cheeks sported two red circles. “I told you, Mary. He’s working for London.”

  Mary’s gaze traveled from Judd’s face to his arms, which were bared to the elbow. “As what?”

  Celine giggled and rolled her eyes. “He’s in security.”

  The woman turned, blocking Celine’s entrance. “That’s all, Celine. I’ll take it from here.”

  Shooting him a glance over the ogre’s shoulder, Celine backed out of the room.

  When the door closed, Mary broadened her stance and crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “BGE security working alone in the boss’s office?”

  Judd kicked his feet on top of London’s desk and crossed his arms behind his head. “Celine forgot her manners. Who are you and what do you want to leave for London?”

  “You’re a smooth operator, aren’t you?” She pulled back her shoulders and Judd feared the buttons on her high-necked white blouse would pop. “My name is Mary Kowalski, and I was Mr. Breck’s secretary for forty years. None of this administrative assistant nonsense. I wasn’t Mr. Breck’s assistant. I was his secretary—I took shorthand, typed one hundred words a minute and, yes, I got him coffee and picked up his dry cleaning, because that’s what we did back when I was first hired, and I was grateful for the job. I maintained the same level of service until the day I retired.”

  Judd’s eyebrows had been rising with each of Mary’s words, so they were probably somewhere on the back of his skull by now.

  He removed his feet from the desk and rose, Mary’s eyes following his ascent. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Judd Brody, and Ms. Breck hired me as her personal bodyguard.”

  “You’re a big ’un, aren’t you? That’s handy in a bodyguard.” She reached into her enormous handbag and drew out a white envelope. She shook it at him. “You’re one of those Brody boys. I followed your father’s case closely. He’d been a good cop for years. I knew Detective Brody was no killer.”

  “That I am, ma’am.”

  “You can stop with the ma’am nonsense. Call me Mary and I’ll call you Judd.” She settled herself in the chair facing the desk. “How’s our girl doing?”

  “Our girl?”

  “London.” She chuckled. “Is she stepping in it yet with those ridiculous heels she favors?”

  “Stepping in it?”

  “Are you a P.I. or a parrot?”

  He choked and took a swig of water. “I think she’s doing just fine.”

  “Nonsense. She’s not cut out for this. I don’t know what Mr. Breck was thinking.”

  Since that was exactly what he’d been wondering, he warmed up to Mary even more, although she reminded him of his first-grade teacher, Mrs. K. Treated him like Mrs. K. had treated him, too.

  “She’s a grown woman. I suppose she can make her own decisions. I’m just here to—” he closed the website on the monitor “—make sure she’s safe.”

  “All kinds of ways to make sure someone’s safe. I heard someone beat up Theodore two nights ago.”

  She must not have heard about Griff. “He’s in the hospital.”

  She scowled and placed the envelope she’d had in her lap between a pencil holder and a framed photograph—one of Spencer Breck shaking the hand of some guy in a uniform as he got an award.

  “Then London did the right thing hiring you. The first sensible thing she’s done since her father died.”

  “Were London and her father close?”

  She smoothed her hands over her skirt. “She wouldn’t say so, but he loved and admired his girl.”

  “Admired?” That seemed to be an odd sentiment for a father to have about his daughter. Should be the other way around. Not that he admired his father—not at all.

  Mary shifted her eyes from his face to just over his shoulder. “He admired her honesty and that she had the guts to do just what she wanted to do. It’s only when she tries to please someone else that she gets confused.” Her eyes found his again. “Like now.”

  He couldn’t agree more, but he didn’t think anyone could dissuade London from taking control of BGE—not even a killer.

  Glancing at his watch, he said, “She should be back soon. Do you want to wait for her?”

  “No.” She struggled to her feet from the deep leather chair, and Judd rushed around the desk to help her. She tapped the edge of the envelope with her finger. “I just came to bring her that.”

  “Will she know what it is?”

  “I don’t even know what it is.” She kept hold of his arm with one hand while she tugged at her skirt with the other. “It’s from her father. He gave it to me two years ago and asked me to deliver it to London a few months after his death.”

  “Maybe it’s the reprieve she’s been looking for, and he’s rescinding his offer of the company.”

  “I wish.” Mary drummed her chin with her fingertips. “Anyway, when I retired last year, I asked Mr. Breck if he still wanted me to hang on to the envelope, and he did. Same instructions. If I’d passed away first, I assumed he would’ve given the same instructions to someone else.”

  “Mary!” London barreled into the room and practically tackled the older woman. She wrapped her in a bear hug. “What are you doing here? Can I convince you to come out of retirement and come back to work?”

 
Mary smiled for the first time since entering the office as she stroked London’s hair back from her face. “You look good, a little tired.”

  “The past few days have been crazy.” She raised an eyebrow at Judd. “Have you met Judd Brody?”

  “We were discussing you.” She broke away from London and grabbed his biceps, giving it a squeeze. “You let this man look out for you. I get a good feeling from this one.”

  “That’s what he’s doing here, but what about you? What brings you to BGE?”

  “I brought you something.” Mary pointed to the envelope on the desk. “From your father.”

  “More forms?”

  “I don’t know what it is, London. He gave it to me a few years ago with instructions to hand it off to you after he passed.”

  “That sounds mysterious. Why wouldn’t he just give it to his attorney?”

  Mary clicked her tongue. “You know I never asked your father questions. Not my place.”

  London reached for the envelope, and Mary crossed two fingers in front of her. “Don’t open it while I’m here. It’s a private matter and you need to keep it private.”

  London dropped the envelope. “I’ll wait. Can I buy you lunch?”

  “Does it look like I need lunch?” Mary patted her belly. “I’m meeting my walking group at the wharf today.”

  “That’s great, Mary.”

  “It’s not so great, but it keeps my doctor happy.” She leveled a finger at Judd. “You take care of her, Judd Brody. She deserves the moon and the stars.”

  London walked Mary out of the office into the outer area, where it looked as if Mary was giving Celine a few parting instructions.

  London returned to the office laughing; that little vertical line that had been in place when she’d returned from the meeting had disappeared. “Mary is a character. Did she scare you?”

  “Took me back to first grade.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “I can’t see you as a first grader. Shy loner?”

  “Close—class clown.” He kicked out the chair Mary had just vacated. “How’d the meeting go?”

  “Boring and largely incomprehensible.” She sank into the chair and then straightened her spine. “But really informative. I learned a lot.”

  He flicked the envelope with his fingers. “Are you going to open this message from your father?”

  “I thought the old man was dead.”

  Judd glanced up at the open door to see London’s cousin gripping the doorjamb.

  London twisted in her chair. “Something more from the meeting, Niles?”

  “No. Just heard the scuttlebutt about your new bodyguard and came to see for myself.”

  “This is Judd Brody. Judd, this is my cousin, Niles Breck.”

  Judd nodded but didn’t rise. London didn’t have to introduce him around as if he was her date.

  “I’m glad you’re watching my feckless cousin, but why do you need more security, London? Bunny told me what happened to you in the alley. I’ve told you before to use the front entrances and brave the paparazzi. At least they’re not out to snatch your priceless jewels.”

  “There have been a couple of incidents. Anyway, his salary is not coming out of your pocket, so don’t worry about it.”

  “What did I hear when I walked in? You got a message from your father? How did he manage that?”

  A tall man came up behind Niles and tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you have those figures for me?”

  “Did you come to check out the new guy in security, too, Wade?”

  London’s brother, tall and thin like his cousins, pursed his lips. “I did not, although I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

  “Brody.” Niles snapped his fingers. “Your brother is a homicide detective and your father—”

  “That’s right.” Judd crossed his arms.

  Wade’s detached demeanor sharpened at Niles’s announcement, but he backed out of the office, nudging Niles. “Those figures?”

  “Duty calls.” He tugged at the narrow lapels of his suit. “I’ll leave you with that message from beyond the grave.”

  The door closed behind the two men and Judd let out a breath.

  “You did call it a message.” She lunged for the envelope. “I just figured it was another form or document that I have to sign—one in a tall stack of many.”

  “I don’t know what it is, London. I can hit the men’s room if you want to read it in privacy.”

  “Oh.” She fanned herself with the envelope. “If you think it’s some sentimental missive from dear old Dad, you can relax. He did not roll that way.”

  “Okay, then, I’m going to close out of this stuff I was going through, and we can get going—unless you need to handle anything from the meeting.”

  “Nope. It’s all being handled by other people. Other people can do this. Other people can do that.” She slipped her finger into the fold of the envelope and ripped across.

  Judd hunched over the computer and closed some files. London had been chattering, and then she fell silent.

  He looked up. Her eyes were huge glassy pools in her pale face.

  “What’s wrong?” He almost leaped across the desk, but her accusing tone stopped him.

  “Is this some kind of joke?”

  His fingers, wedged against the desk, curled into the wood. “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” She waved a single sheet of paper at him. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

  “London, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She flung the paper at him; it settled on the keyboard.

  He picked it up by one corner and read it aloud. “‘Detective Joseph Brody is innocent of murder. At least tell his sons that. They deserve to know.’”

  The paper slipped from his fingers, and the room tilted.

  What the hell did his father have to do with Spencer Breck?

  Chapter Eight

  London blinked. Judd looked as dazed as she felt.

  What did it mean? Why was her father’s last communication to her about Joseph Brody? And what were the odds that one of Joseph Brody’s sons would be standing right across from her while she received it?

  “Y-you don’t know anything about this?”

  He fell heavily into the chair and plowed his fingers through his thick hair. “What do you mean? Know anything about it as if I wrote it and sent it? Is that what you think? Mary brought it. I never saw this note before in my life and I don’t have a clue what your father knows about my father and why he’d tell you anything about it.”

  “This is crazy.” She massaged her temples. “Why would he send me this note about your father after his death?”

  “Could it be someone else playing a joke?”

  “What kind of joke is this?”

  “You tell me, since you just accused me of playing it on you.”

  “Why would my father want to tell me this? And why didn’t he just tell me while he was alive?”

  “Did he ever mention the Phone Book Killer case or my father?”

  “Not that I recall. Maybe he had some contact with your brother? The detective? He was a big supporter of the SFPD. He was close to Captain Williams. He was even on the police commission at one time.”

  Judd leaned over in his chair and plucked the piece of paper up from the carpet where it had drifted. He smoothed it out on the desk. “I have no idea if he ever contacted Sean, but I intend to ask him.”

  “My dad died before your other brother, Eric, uncovered the truth about the Phone Book Killer. Maybe if he had lived to see that day, he would’ve gotten rid of this note. But why write it in the first place? It’s a crazy coincidence that I hired one of Joseph Brody’s sons to protect me. Maybe Dad was gui
ding me the night of the benefit.”

  “Do you believe that kind of stuff? My future sister-in-law is...sensitive that way.”

  “Yes, I heard. She was involved in catching that occult serial killer after he kidnapped her daughter.” She gripped her upper arms and shivered.

  “How far back was your father involved with the department?”

  “Way far back, when my mother was still alive. There are some pictures at his house showing him and my mother at some police functions.” She snatched the picture on the desk and tapped it. “This is my father and Captain Williams.”

  “Did the support start over twenty years ago?”

  “Definitely. Is that when your father—”

  “Yeah.” The line of his jaw hardened. “The note exonerates my father as the Phone Book Killer, but it doesn’t explain why he jumped from the bridge.”

  It always came back to that for Judd. He’d never be able to forgive his father. They had that in common.

  “This is one of those freaky coincidences, or maybe your FBI sister-in-law is right—there are mysterious forces at work in the universe.”

  “Those mysterious forces still don’t explain how your father knew mine was innocent, and why he thought it was so important for you to impart this info to me and my brothers.”

  “Maybe Mary knows.” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe Theodore knows. He was with my father almost as long as Mary was.”

  “Then let’s pay a visit to Theodore.”

  A half an hour later, London tapped the toe of her shoe on the sidewalk as she watched Judd climb off his bike and secure his helmet to the side. The incongruity of the suit and the Harley only made Judd look hotter. If she hadn’t been wearing this straight skirt, she would’ve climbed on the back again.

  That had been the best part of these past few days—riding on the back of Judd’s Harley. Actually, Judd had been the best part of these past few days—the past few months.

  After reading her father’s note, she had to believe the stars had fated her meeting with Judd the other night. He’d been with her when Theodore was attacked and when she’d discovered her ransacked home. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his suit jacket. He didn’t look much like a guardian angel, but he’d come through for her twice.