by Marie Force
He was knotting the red tie she had chosen for him when she stirred.
“Hey,” she said with a yawn. “What time is it?”
Tugging on his suit coat, he sat down next to her on the bed to tie his shoes. “Six thirty. Go back to sleep.”
She ran his silk tie through her fingers. “Are you okay?”
Dumbstruck, he watched her fingers slide over his tie. “Yeah,” he was finally able to say.
She held out her arms to him, and he sank into her tight embrace. “Get ’em,” she whispered, using Rachelle’s words for encouragement.
He pulled back to look at her. Trailing a hand down her face, he brushed back her hair and kissed her. “I’ll call you when I get out of court.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He left her with one last kiss.
Juliana went back to sleep for a couple of hours. When she got up, she made Michael’s bed and threw in a load of laundry before she went downstairs to flip on the television and find her cell phone.
On the local news at the top of the hour, she caught a glimpse of Michael going into the courthouse. A pack of reporters followed in hot pursuit as he moved quickly up the stairs. The camera cut to a standup shot of a blonde reporter gesturing to a fleet of media trucks with large satellite dishes on top. “As you can see, it’s quite a circus here at the courthouse. Back to you in the studio.”
Juliana put the television on mute and dialed Pam’s number at work.
“Pam Newman.”
“Pam, it’s Juliana.”
“Oh. Hi.”
“Um, listen, about last night…”
“If you’re worried David’s going to tell Jeremy, I think I talked him out of it.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“Jeremy and I are… well… we’re—”
“Spit it out, Juliana.”
“We’re not seeing each other right now.”
“Since when? What happened?”
“Almost a month,” Juliana said, finding that hard to believe.
“Because you’re seeing that other guy? He’s the prosecutor who’s been on the news with the Benedetti trial. I figured that out this morning.”
“Yes, he is, but he’s not the reason Jeremy and I aren’t together. I swear to God, Pam. That’s not it.”
“Then what? I can’t imagine this world without you and Jeremy together. What happened?”
“Have you ever had a fight with David that you tell everyone about and then wish you hadn’t when he does something wonderful to make it up to you?”
“Of course. All the time, actually.”
“Well, I’d rather not get into the why and how of it, if that’s all right. I just didn’t want you and David to think I’m fooling around on Jeremy while he’s away. That’s not the case.”
“What’s going on with you and that sexy lawyer, Juliana? You two were awfully cozy.”
“I’m not sure. But I wouldn’t want Jeremy to hear about it through the grapevine because it would upset him.”
“He won’t hear it from me, but I can’t make any promises about David. He was pretty spun up about it last night.”
Juliana winced. “I’m sorry. It was your anniversary.”
“Don’t worry about it. Do you need anything, Juliana? Are you okay?”
“I’m just fine. Thanks.”
“Call me soon, will you? I want to know what’s going on.”
“I will,” Juliana promised and ended the call. She had done what she could to put the lid on that situation. Turning off the television, she went upstairs to shower and get dressed so she could spend her day off cleaning her mother’s house.
Juliana was riveted to the lengthy coverage of the trial’s fourth day on the six o’clock news, which included the daily interview with Michael on the courthouse steps. According to his reports to her each night, the trial was going as well as he could hope for so far, but he was frustrated by the defense team’s propensity to drag everything out. One witness he hoped to get in and out in half a day spent two full days on the stand.
He had called a short time ago to say he would be home around eight and to pester her once more about going with him to Rhode Island the next day. Juliana put him off yet again because she didn’t feel right about going. What would his family think when he brought home someone new just a few weeks after he broke up with his fiancée? Not to mention someone who wasn’t quite free of her boyfriend of ten years?
Because she hadn’t heard from Jeremy she was hopeful that David had resisted the urge to report in to him. Imagining Jeremy’s reaction to hearing she had been out on a cozy date with another man, she shuddered. No matter what else happened, she didn’t want to hurt him if she could avoid it.
Leaning forward from the sofa, she reached for the clicker to change the channel as the news ended. She had just sat back when she was startled by the sound of glass breaking and tires squealing in the street. Before she could move to see what was going on, the glass coffee table in front of her shattered. Juliana sat frozen in shock for several seconds until she felt something dripping on her face. Reaching up, her hand came back covered in blood.
She screamed.
Someone pounded on the door. “Juliana, open up! It’s Officer Tanner.” He banged on the door again. “Juliana!”
She crawled over the back of the sofa to avoid the glass that seemed to be everywhere and opened the door.
“Are you all right? Oh, Christ, you’re bleeding. Shit! I went around the corner for one minute to take a leak.” He called for backup and an ambulance and dug a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Sit down. Here, on the stairs.” He pressed the cloth to her forehead, which seemed to be the source of the blood coursing down her face.
Stars danced in her eyes, and sirens wailed in the distance as she fought to stay conscious. In a matter of minutes, the house was full of cops and paramedics. They carried her into the dining room to lay her down so they could clean her wound and apply a butterfly bandage to her forehead.
The cops scoured the room for evidence. Under the remains of Michael’s coffee table they found a large rock. Juliana swallowed hard when she realized that if she had leaned forward to change the channel one second later the rock might have hit her rather than the table. The thought made her sick.
A buzz went through the room when the cops discovered a message painted in red on the rock. “What does it say?” one of them asked.
“‘We’ll find her.’”
“What the hell does that mean? ‘We’ll find her?’”
“Rachelle,” Juliana whispered in a panic. “They’re talking about Rachelle, the witness in protective custody. Someone needs to call Michael. Right now.” She tried to push herself up but the room spun, making her nauseous. “Call Michael,” she begged Tanner.
He unclipped his cell phone from his belt. “What’s the number? I have it in the car.”
Juliana gave him Michael’s cell number and then squeezed her eyes shut as her head began to throb.
“Mr. Maguire, Officer John Tanner. We’ve had some trouble at your house. You need to come home right away.”
Juliana could hear the muffled sound of Michael yelling into the phone.
“She’s hurt, but she’s okay.” He told Michael about the rock, the message, and Juliana’s worries about Rachelle. “Yes, of course. I’ll be right here with her.” He hung up the phone, and turned back to Juliana. “He’s coming.”
Michael’s heart lodged in his throat. Hurt but okay. What the hell does that mean? Hurt how? He drove like a maniac through the city. When he turned on to Chester Street, the police lights, ambulance, and crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front of his house turned his blood to ice.
He pulled his car into the first available spot on the street and didn’t care that he left the car door hanging open in his haste. All he could think about was getting to Juliana. “Let me through!” he yelled wh
en he reached the outer edge of the crowd. “Goddamn it! Let me through!”
The crowd parted, and a police officer who recognized Michael lifted the yellow crime scene tape for him. He flew up the stairs and into the house, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Juliana lying on the dining room floor covered in blood. “Oh my God,” he gasped. For a brief nauseating moment he thought he was going to faint.
She raised a hand to him. “I’m okay. It looks worse than it is.”
He dropped to his knees next to her and rested his head on her chest. “Oh, baby, what did they do to you?”
“We think a piece of glass from the coffee table nicked her forehead,” Officer Tanner said.
“Where the fuck were you? She could’ve been killed!”
The young officer paled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Maguire. I left for five minutes to go to the bathroom. They must’ve been watching me.”
“Do you think?”
“Michael, please.” Juliana’s fingers combed through his hair. “Don’t yell at him. It’s not his fault.”
Michael fought back tears, and as he gathered her into his arms he was hit with the shakes. “You could’ve been killed,” he whispered.
“Michael, the message on the rock. What about Rachelle?”
“I took care of it. We’ve doubled her detail. Don’t worry about her.”
A police lieutenant approached them. “Mr. Maguire?”
Michael looked up at him.
“We’re going to be here a while, so we’ll to put you two up in a hotel for the night.”
“She needs to go to the hospital,” Michael said.
“We treated her,” one of the paramedics said. “It was a surface cut, but head wounds bleed like crazy.”
“I’m fine, Michael, really. Just shook up. I don’t need the hospital.”
“Why don’t you pack a bag so we can get you settled?” the lieutenant suggested to Michael.
“Will you be all right for a few minutes?” Michael asked her, afraid that if he let her go for even a minute, he might come back to find that she wasn’t fine, that she had been hit by the rock rather than a piece of glass. He trembled at the thought of how close it must have been.
She caressed his face. “I’m fine. Go ahead and pack us a bag. Can you grab me a shirt to change into?” The one she had on was soaked with blood.
He nodded and kissed her before he went upstairs to pack. When he returned a few minutes later, the lieutenant ordered Tanner to drive them to the Hyatt at the Inner Harbor.
“I’ve arranged to have two men posted outside your door,” the lieutenant said.
Michael helped Juliana up from the floor and held her until she was steady. “Do you need help?”
“No, I can do it.” She took the shirt he had brought her into the tiny bathroom off the dining room.
“Can you clear the street?” Michael asked the cops. “I don’t want her photographed.” When she emerged from the bathroom, he produced a large, hooded Georgetown sweatshirt and helped her into it. “I don’t want them to know your face,” he whispered, pulling the hood up around her head.
They were whisked down the stairs and into a waiting cruiser for the ride downtown. In the back of the car, Michael held her close to him and struggled to contain the riot of emotions that coursed through him—rage, relief, love, and fear. For the first time in his career he was afraid but not for himself. “I need to call my boss, honey.” He reached for his cell phone while keeping his other arm wrapped around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I want to focus only on you, but I have to tell him about this.”
“Of course you do.”
Michael called Tom Houlihan at home and filled him in.
“This is outrageous!” Tom said. “When I hang up with you I’m calling Judge Stein. Are you sure your friend is okay?”
“Yes, she’s shaken up and a piece of the coffee table cut her forehead, but the paramedics said she’s okay. They’re putting us in the Hyatt for the night while crime scene does their thing at my house.”
“Call me if there’s anything at all you need.”
“I want you to keep her name out of the papers, Tom. I mean it. I don’t want them having her name.”
“Of course. I’ll see to that personally. I’m sure the trial will be in recess until this is sorted out.”
“I’d like to avoid that if we can,” Michael said. “The longer this goes on, the more danger Rachelle is in. Try to talk him into moving forward on Monday.”
“I’ll see what I can do, and I’ll call you in the morning. I’m sorry about this, Michael.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Do you really think Rachelle is in danger, Michael?” Juliana asked in a small voice. “I’m so afraid for her.”
“She’s fine. She has seven cops with her. I don’t want you to worry.” He released a ragged deep breath. “What the hell was I thinking letting you become involved in all this?”
Juliana raised her head to look him in the eye. “I didn’t become involved in all of this. I became involved with you.”
Overwhelmed by her, Michael guided her head back to his shoulder.
Chapter Seventeen
They pulled up to the Hyatt, and Officer Tanner turned to them. “One room or two?”
Michael glanced down at Juliana.
“One,” she said.
“Coming right up. I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”
“I’ve always wanted to stay here,” Juliana said. The sleek black-glass hotel overlooked Baltimore’s famous Inner Harbor where the bombs bursting over Fort McHenry during the War of 1812 inspired Francis Scott Key to write the poem that later became the Star Spangled Banner. “But it’s hard to justify a night in the Hyatt when you live in the city.”
“Too bad you had to be nearly killed to get here.”
“Michael, stop.” She ran a finger along his jaw, which was tight with tension. “I’m fine.”
Tanner returned and escorted them to a room on the hotel’s seventh floor.
“We’ll be right outside, Mr. Maguire. Just holler if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
“John?” Juliana walked over to the young policeman.
“Yes?”
“I appreciate all you did back at the house.”
“It shouldn’t have happened.” He looked like he could cry. “I’m sorry.”
She put her hand on his arm. “When people are determined to do something like this, they find a way.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said on his way out the door. “Try to get some sleep.”
Juliana attempted to pull the Georgetown sweatshirt over her head and gasped when it rubbed against the cut on her forehead.
Michael came to her side. “Let me help you.” He eased the sweatshirt over her forehead and gently removed it. Tossing it aside, he put his arms around her. “It’s good of you to be so forgiving.”
“It’s not his fault, Michael. He didn’t throw the rock.” She snuggled into his embrace. “I need to take a shower.”
He tightened his hold on her. “Wait. Stay here for a minute. Stay with me.”
She closed her arms around him and felt a tremble ripple through him.
“When they said you were hurt,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life. And when I saw all that blood…”
“Shh, Michael. Don’t.”
He looked down at her, his eyes bright with tears. “I love you,” he whispered. “Those words seem so insignificant in light of all I feel for you. There just isn’t a big enough word, Juliana.”
“I love you, too.”
He seemed to stop breathing. “You do?”
She reached up to caress his face. “I’ve known it since the last time we saw Rachelle. The way you were with her… You were amazing, and I just knew.”
Releasing a rattling deep breath, Michael closed his eyes
and kissed her slowly and deeply, as if he was trying to put all his love for her into that one kiss.
After a long while, she pulled back from him. “I’m going to go wash off the blood. You got some on your shirt.”
“I don’t care.”
She reached up to unbutton the light blue dress shirt he wore to court that morning. “Take it off. I’ll soak it.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I could eat.”
“Me either.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He stole one more kiss from her before he let her go. “I’ll be right here.”
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and took it with her into the bathroom. In the shower, she winced at the water sliding over the cut on her forehead. She watched the water in the tub turn red when she rinsed her hair and washed it. The pulsating shower helped to ease some of the tension from her shoulders and back. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled on the thick white robe the hotel provided. Wiping the steam off the mirror, she took a close look at the wound on her forehead. The small cut certainly didn’t measure up to the amount of blood it produced. A tinge of black and blue already surrounded it.
As she brushed her hair and then dried it, she shuddered each time she thought about how much worse it could have been. Her legs still felt like they were made of Jell-O.
She had told Michael she loved him, which made her stomach also feel like Jell-O—not only because it was true, but because she still loved Jeremy. However, she wasn’t thinking of him just then. No, her thoughts were all about Michael and the way his face had faded to a ghostly pale when he came rushing into the house to find her covered in blood. In that heartbreaking moment, she had seen his love for her. And when he said there wasn’t a big enough word to describe how he felt about her… That had been, quite simply, the most romantic moment of her life.
Michael ignored his ringing cell phone for a tenth time, turned it off, and went to look out at the full moon hanging over the Inner Harbor. To his right, he could make out the brick walls of Camden Yards, home to the Baltimore Orioles.
