by Jayne Blue
I squared off with him. Maybe it was the stress of the day. I was trying to take back some semblance of control over my life. Maybe it wasn’t fair. But Huck was the one standing in front of me so he got the full force of my rage.
“So ask me. I know you want to. Everyone does.”
“Ask you what?”
“Ask me whether I fucked President Matt Vance to get this job.”
Huck looked toward the ceiling and shook his head. He jutted his chin and looked back at me. “None of my business.”
“Don’t do that. I let you in. You of all people know how hard that is for me. I’m still not sure it was a good idea. But here we are. You don’t want me to shut down on you, don’t do it to me. Not today. I mean it, Huck. Not today.” My voice trembled a little toward the end and I hated it. I had that unspooled feeling and I didn’t like it one damn bit.
“Okay,” he said, pushing off the wall with his shoulder. He took two strides forward and stood no more than an inch from me. He leaned down so he met me nose to nose. “Did you sleep with President Vance?”
“No,” I answered. “I did not.”
“He asked though, right? You turned him down and he gave you the job anyway?”
I blinked hard and took a step back, unprepared for the question. “I … never … he didn’t … what?”
Huck laughed as he stepped back. “I’ve never met the man. Friends of mine have. I have every confidence the idea crossed his mind.”
“Well, if it did, he didn’t say so. We were never actually in a room alone together.”
“Good.” Huck leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then he came in closer and folded his arms around me. “Very good. I’d like to keep it that way. Now what else did he say?”
God, this man drove me to fury and distraction. His touch also heated my blood in every way that was dangerous. As Huck spanned my waist with his hand, I went up on my tiptoes and nipped his bottom lip. I reached around and smacked him on the ass.
“That’s for having a dirty mind, Deputy Huckman.”
“Hmm. Maybe we can discuss my dirty mind later. For now though, we have work to do. Like it or not. But seriously, tell me what he said. You have to. I mean … as head of your security, it’s my right to know everything.”
He straightened his jacket and leaned against the doorway again. A shadow crossed the window framing the front door. Sally Moore or one of the other deputies knocked softly. We’d kept them waiting long enough.
I reached over on the kitchen counter and grabbed the rest of this morning’s mail. The invitation to the fundraiser at The Maples was still among the papers. I handed the stiff embossed card to Huck. He screwed up his face as he read it.
“Sounds awful. A weekend retreat with a bunch of fathead politicians.”
“President Vance is going to be there,” I said. “That’s the other reason he was calling. He wanted to make sure recent events hadn’t spooked me from attending. He wants me there.”
“Over my dead body.” Huck straightened again. “I need you someplace safe and secure until we know what we’re dealing with. I’m sure the Director of Homeland Security and the FBI are going to brief the man on the prevailing theory behind yesterday’s bombing.”
“I’m sure they will. But this is politics. Appearances matter. Like it or not, I’m a jewel in the man’s cap. He’s gearing up for his re-election campaign. He needs to shore up the women’s vote.”
“You’re his trophy judge. Maybe that’s even worse.”
I crossed my arms in front of me. “I’m good at my job.”
Huck’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. I know that. That’s not what I meant. It’s just … the idea of that man … and you.”
I swallowed hard. “Who are we talking about? The president or my so-called ex?”
Huck glowered at me. “We’ll talk about it later. But I get to decide whether you go to The Maples or not.”
“Baby,” I said. I loved the sound of it when he said it to me. It felt wicked, wild, and possessive. “You’re a strong, beautiful, virile deputy US Marshal. But we both serve at the pleasure of the president. As much as I’d like to curl up into a hamster ball and stay the hell away from the world, we may not get that luxury. But … he may change his mind once he finds out …”
My voice trailed off. I couldn’t even say it. But I knew how this worked. If that sex tape came to light, I’d be damaged goods. Political plutonium. It was entirely possible President Vance might even ask me to step down before that happened.
“This could ruin me one way or the other. Whoever sent that note was right. There are more ways than one to bring me down.”
Huck had his hand on the doorknob. “Not if I have anything to say about it. By the end of the day, we’re going to have Ross Dennison in custody. If it wasn’t him, he knows who has that tape. We’ll get to the bottom of it. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost.”
I sat through another two hours of questioning with Huck stoically by my side. To have my deepest secrets displayed on a table in front of five strangers with questioning eyes hardened me in a way I’d never been before. But I got through it. The whole time, Huck sat beside me and I drew strength from him I hadn’t known I needed. They were subtle things: he put a hand on my knee beneath the table. He scooted his chair a little closer to mine. I’d feel a gentle hand on my back when the questioning veered into more delicate, personal issues. I answered their questions. Admitted to things that I’d tried to hide for so many years. Because I couldn’t explain who Ross was and what he was capable of without taking the story all the way back to my father.
The son of a bitch.
He held me under his control through fear for all those years. His temper was a powder keg and neither my mother nor I were ever able to figure out when he’d blow. I’d kept our heads above water when he was too drunk to do it himself. I’d covered for him so he wouldn’t lose the business and my shot to go to college and get the hell away from him. And he brought Ross into our lives and made me feel guilty for not appreciating him. The bastard.
“And you have no idea where he’s staying now?”
I shook my head. I turned over my phone so they could try and piece together where he’d called from. Then they had me call him back. I sighed with relief when he didn’t answer the phone. But two hours later when I’d answered all of their questions, they had me try again.
This time, Ross answered.
“Why?” My voice came out raw and choked. They’d warned me to act natural when I spoke to him. That part was easy.
“Thank God you’re okay. Are you okay? Jilly?”
“I’m not okay, Ross. I’m far from okay. I got your little package today.”
Huck gripped my free hand under the table. My eyes flicked to him. Color drained from his face and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Ross’s voice came through the speaker so Huck and the five FBI agents could listen in.
“Jilly, what package?”
“Shut up, Ross. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get what you wanted. I’ll meet you. One hour. That Greek restaurant on Huron Street. You’ll get ten minutes of my time. After that, I never want to see or hear from you again. Do you understand?”
“Jilly, I don’t understand why you’re angry with me.”
I rolled my eyes. I mouthed “I’m done” to Huck. He nodded and gestured to the agents. I hung up the call.
“Good,” Huck said. “Perfect, actually. I’ll be at the table next to you. The agents will pick him up before he even sets foot in that restaurant.”
I shook my head. “No. You can’t be there. Ross isn’t stupid. He won’t come near it if he sees you with me. Sally and Marcus can come with me.”
Huck looked incensed. His eyes bulged as he tried to contain the argument he knew he couldn’t launch into in front of everyone else. We had a secret of our own and there was no point laying that one out on the table. The stakes were too high. But everyone around the table a
greed with me. Ross was already scared of Huck. We couldn’t take the chance of tipping him off.
One of the agents ushered me out into the hallway of the marshal’s office while they discussed more strategy with Huck. I sat on a wooden bench and waited for him. More than anything, I just wanted to go home, shut the lights off, and sit in the quiet. I had sensory overload and the prospect of seeing Ross, even if it was in handcuffs in the back of an FBI agent’s car, had my nerves on edge.
When Huck came out to get me, his nerves looked equally frayed. I ended up trying to calm him down as we walked out of the building.
“It’ll be fine. You said so yourself. The agents aren’t going to let that creep within ten feet of that restaurant.”
“I know,” he said as we walked up to his car. “I just hate the idea of him even thinking he can touch you ever again.”
I stood beside the car and tapped the hood. “He can’t. Even if he’s in the same room with me. Huck, look at me.”
Huck came around and opened the car door for me. He scanned the street while I slipped inside and he shut the door. As I buckled my seatbelt and waited for him I took a steeling breath. This was getting more and more complicated. Huck couldn’t unsee the pictures of Ross and me. No one could. He didn’t blame me for it, but his rage was already starting to cloud his judgment. What’s worse, he was doing a damn shitty job hiding it. I needed him by my side, but having him there put both of our jobs at risk.
He slid into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear.
“Are you going to be able to handle this?” I asked. We were only four blocks from the restaurant. Sally and Marcus were already on their way to clear the restaurant. The plan was to have Huck drive me pretty much in circles until it was time to get me there.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re a lit fuse. Maybe we made a mistake not having you reassigned.”
“Is that what you want?” His voice took on an acid tone I didn’t like.
“No. It’s not what I want. But this is twice now your rage and jealousy are showing. First when the president called, now this. I’m doing what you want me to do where Ross is concerned. I can’t help he’s part of my past. I didn’t do anything wrong, Huck. And you don’t have a claim on me to be acting this way.”
He white-knuckled the steering wheel and turned on Ann Street. Instead of continuing to drive, he pulled into a parking structure, punched the button for a ticket and drove in.
“Good idea,” I said. “You’re in no condition to drive.”
Huck pulled into a parking spot, slamming the car into park so hard it jockeyed on its axle. He turned to face me, eyes blazing.
“You’re right. I don’t have a claim on you. But what if I want one?”
My hands shook. My heart raced. Messy. Chaos.
“Not now. I can’t talk about this right now. I’m just trying to get through the day. Through the hour.”
He let out a breath and dropped his head. “I know. So am I. I just hate this. I want to get you out of this town so fucking bad, Jillian. I have a bad feeling about today and all of this. I can’t help that I want to take you back to my place, tie you up, and keep you there.”
The image of him doing exactly that flashed through my mind. A flare of heat shot straight to my core. Huck’s eyes danced when they caught mine and a slow smile creased his mouth. That dimple flashed and nearly undid me.
I looked to make sure no one was watching, then I leaned over and kissed him. His breath was hot against my cheek. His hands roamed over my shoulders and found the top button of my blouse. I think I could almost have let him take me then and there. I wanted it. Desperately. But that was one too many steps toward chaos.
Huck’s phone vibrated on the dashboard and broke the spell. We pressed our foreheads together then he gave me a quick peck on the cheek before answering it. I twisted in my seat to look at him. In profile, with his brow furrowed, he looked downright dangerous.
“Where?” His tone grew grave and he barked out his words. “Jesus Christ. Where the hell were our guys? No. Fuck that. I’m getting her the hell out of here. I’m heading for the M-14 US 23 split like a bat out of hell. Have the rest of the judge’s detail meet me at my place. You know the address.”
He slammed the phone down and threw the car into reverse. I rocketed back in my seat as he peeled out of the parking spot and out of the structure. When we reached the exit, he flashed his badge and blew through the barrier.
“What the hell is going on? Huck?”
“Change of plans.”
“What?”
As Huck took a hard turn onto Main Street and barreled toward the expressway, he turned to me. “Ross Dennison is dead. Shot through the forehead. They found him slumped over in his car parked two blocks from the restaurant.”
Chapter Seventeen
Huck
Adrenaline still coursing through me almost an hour later I pulled into my own driveway. I lived in a small, brick one-story on a quiet side street just outside of Detroit. Jillian sat beside me white-faced. She’d asked no questions but had just hung on for dear life as I hurtled down the expressway. Two Michigan State troopers joined us on the way, called in by the Marshals Service. I waved them off as I got out of my car. Sally Moore and Marcus Drake would be here in a few minutes. For now, I just wanted to get Jillian inside.
“You ready?” I asked as I opened her car door and offered her a hand. Blinking hard, she took it and stepped outside. The temperature felt like it had dropped about twenty degrees in the span of the hour it took to get here. Mid-fall in Michigan, that happens sometimes.
“Come on,” I said. “I don’t even want any of my neighbors knowing you’re here.”
She nodded and followed me in. As I keyed into my front door, I realized her seeing my place might shock her as much as the news I’d delivered about Ross Dennison. This was about to play out like a scene from The Odd Couple. Where Jillian’s spaces were spartan and neat, I lived like the bachelor I was.
I’d bought the place for cash five years ago, intending to fix it up and flip it. I still wanted to. But every room in my house was in varying states of half-finished home-improvement projects. I’d stripped the finish off all the cabinetry as well as the wood floor. I had three bold stripes of paint along one wall to help me decide which one to go with. The living room was finished, but my furniture was a mixture of unmatched pieces, a black leather couch, an orange suede ottoman, two recliners with plaid patterns I’d gotten on discount.
“It doesn’t look like much,” I said, “but it’s clean. I’ve got a girl who comes twice a week. Even when I’m not here.”
Jillian nodded. “You don’t owe me any explanations, Huck. Once again, I probably owe you my life.”
“Come on, have a seat in the living room. Are you thirsty? Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “Come sit with me. Tell me what you know. What happened to Ross?”
I took a seat next to her on the couch and folded her hands in my lap. She’d been through a lot already today. Her silence and flat affect had me worried.
“We had a team watching the restaurant and the two blocks surrounding it. A couple of them were on foot patrol. They noticed a man slumped over on his steering wheel a block away. They approached and tapped on the window. He matched Ross’s description. He was dead. Gunshot through the forehead. It doesn’t look self-inflicted because they didn’t find a weapon on him.”
Jillian covered her mouth with her palm and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know what to think. What am I supposed to think? They’re sure it was him?”
I nodded. “He had his ID on him. We’ll have to notify his next of kin for a positive ID.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t have anyone. I mean, no one. There was a sister but she lived in New Mexico. She died years ago. Before we even got involved. I don’t think he has many friends. He was Ross. The way he behaved toward me is how he is … how he was with ev
eryone. God. Huck. I’ll have to do it.”
“No. You’re not going anywhere near this.”
“So what now? Is this over? Do you really think he was behind the car bombing and all the rest of it? Why? I don’t understand how he could hate me that much.”
This was tearing me up inside. I hated seeing her scared. I hated that up until now, everything I’d done was reactionary. I wanted to find the mother fucker messing with Jillian’s life and end them. It would have been so much easier if it had just been Ross Dennison. Now we knew this was much, much bigger.
“We’ll know more in a few days,” I said, taking on the detached tone I’d honed after years with the Marshals Service. I don’t have the kind of job where people seek you out when things are going well. How many times had I delivered bad news?
Jillian’s eyes flicked upward then she focused them on me. She swallowed hard and pursed her lips. “Do you think he was going to warn me about something? I mean, I’m the reason he’s dead. Right? There’s no chance this was just a random act of violence.”
“There’s always that chance, but yes. Odds are this is connected. We’ll have a team find out where he was staying. We’ll search his phone, his computers, everything. We’ll figure out who he was talking to and why. Gruesome as it is, this is a lead. A big one.”
She buried her face in her hands. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Ross was connected with whoever has been threatening me? Do you think he hired them? Oh God.”
I put an arm around her. “We can’t jump to any conclusions yet. He’s involved, most likely. But we don’t know how much yet.”
“He wanted to tell me something,” she said. She pulled her hands from mine and rose. With one hand on her forehead and the other on her hips she started to pace. “He sounded more desperate than usual. God. Maybe he was trying to warn me, or apologize. Do you think that’s it? He was trying to undo whatever he started or had second thoughts or whatever?”
“Maybe.” She was too smart for her own good. Though after what Ross had already done to her, I couldn’t help feeling like he’d gotten exactly what he deserved, it left a very big, very literal dead end. I didn’t want to alarm Jillian any more than she already was, but silencing Ross Dennison was going to make it that much harder to track down the asshole responsible for the danger to her.
