Hidden Judgment Read online

  “Four marshals in Pendleton, Oregon?” Bella’s brow furrowed over her exotic eyes. “Something else must have happened to justify that level of protection.”

  “Correct. You want to tell the team what you found on your car, Sam?”

  A flash of some emotion crossed his expression, but his tone remained dispassionate. “C-four attached to an inside wheel well of my vehicle.”

  Linc leaned forward in his seat. “No shit? How’d you find it?”

  Sam shrugged. “This was two weeks ago. I was parked on dirt. It’d rained, and I noticed fresh boot prints around my car. There were indications someone had knelt by the rear passenger tire. I took a look and saw a brick of plastic explosive, complete with a detonator, attached with duct tape.”

  His voice had deepened, become richer in the years since he’d been in law school. Ellie ignored the shiver snaking down her spine. Focus was the word of the day. “Where was your car parked? Were there any witnesses?”

  “I was parked along the River Parkway. The chief deputy can better answer your question about witnesses.”

  “The investigation is ongoing, but as of now we have no witnesses,” Seth affirmed. “The C-four had a motion-activated detonator. We’re looking into possible sources for the bomb materials, but it appears likely the C-four is from a batch stolen from a military base near Portland. Part of our investigation is determining whether there was inside help at the base.”

  Someone attempting to blow up a federal judge was serious business and added a layer of urgency and danger to the job of protecting Judge Creed. “What are the details of my cover?”

  “We’re keeping it simple. You and Sam were long-distance boyfriend and girlfriend, and decided to take your relationship up a notch. You’ve come to Oregon to live together. You’ll use the name Rachel Sinclair. Cover documents are being made. You’re a lawyer and have been working for a firm in San Diego. Your plan is to spend your time studying for the Oregon bar exam.”

  “And what will you be doing while I’m moving in with my boyfriend?”

  “We’ve procured a short-term rental, a residence not far from the judge’s house. Linc will be the marshal assigned to the courthouse, and since a marshal’s job is to protect federal judges, that won’t be remarkable. To keep anyone from being tipped off by the large number of marshals assigned, Bella and I will pose as lawyers representing a client. Our cover will allow us access to the courthouse and keep our investigation under wraps.”

  Bella set down the mug she’d been sipping from, the string from the teabag trailing over the side. “Why keep our mission to protect Judge Creed secret? As federal marshals, it shouldn’t be so unusual to see us at the courthouse.”

  “True,” Seth replied. “But we’re going to maintain cover so we don’t tip off the court staff about what’s going on. We can’t assume the threat is only from the outside.”

  “You think the messages could be a misdirection,” Ellie surmised.

  “Actually, I don’t think they are, but we can’t ignore the possibility.”

  “Wouldn’t locals, court staff included, already know about the threats to the judge? People tend to pay attention when a bomb is found attached to a judge’s car.” This question came from Linc.

  Seth shook his head. “You’d think, but Sam did us a favor. Instead of calling local law enforcement, he called ATF to deal with the bomb. They defused it and the locals are none the wiser.”

  “Except for the bomber, who must have wondered why his toy didn’t work,” Ellie pointed out.

  Seth nodded. “We control what we can control. Here’s our immediate plan. Bella, Linc, and I will travel separate from you and the judge so no one sees us together and connects us.” Seth turned to the judge. “Sam, you flew here?” At Sam’s nod, Seth said, “We’ll arrange a rental car so you and Ellie can drive back to Pendleton.”

  A woman wearing a marshal’s star came in and passed an envelope to Seth. He opened it and tipped out the contents. “Here’s your new identity, Ellie. You’re now Rachel Sinclair, so give me everything for Eleanor Jameson. You can keep your weapon, but don’t wear it.”

  Ellie transferred her new identity into her wallet and couldn’t help feeling that she was being stripped bare as she handed over her badge and ID.

  “I need to go back to the hotel to pack.”

  Sam spoke directly to Ellie for the first time. “Did you drive here today?”

  She shook her head. “I took a rideshare.”

  He nodded. “We’ll pick up the rental and stop at the hotel to get your things, then we’ll get on the road.”

  They had a good, sensible plan, but she couldn’t help feeling she needed a little alone time to fortify her defenses before she and Sam Creed were thrown together as lovers.

  Chapter Two

  Ellie stared out the window of the rental sedan as they drove through the outskirts of Portland, Mount Hood looking austere and imposing in the distance. Kind of like Judge Creed. They hadn’t spoken much since leaving the Marshals Office. He’d been distant and preoccupied, except for the couple times when she’d caught his hawk-like gaze on her, making her feel like a novice defense lawyer arguing her first case before the bench. In fact, the whole situation made her uncomfortable. She resented feeling like she had as a young undergrad, dazzled by the attention of the hot law student. She reminded herself she wasn’t that naïve sophomore any longer. She could handle herself with Judge Creed.

  It didn’t help that Sam had grown into his looks. As a law student he’d been thin to the point of gawkiness. Thirteen years and he’d filled out some, though he was still lean. The hair he wore combed back from his forehead now had threads of silver that matched the slate gray of his eyes. Combined with the slashing cheekbones, he had the look of a seasoned warrior.

  She stifled a sigh. Their shared history made the current situation a messy business. That history was like a block wall between them that only she could see. Which made it her problem to deal with. She and Sam had had sex, that was all. Despite the distance of time, she remembered that night in crisp detail.

  From the moment she’d arrived at the party, she’d been aware of the longhaired law student with the fast grin. He’d caught her attention on campus before then, and she’d even made a point of going by the coffee shop where she’d once seen him on the off chance he’d be there. She’d been thrilled when a friend had introduced them.

  They’d ended up talking, flirting back and forth, and drinking more than they should. He’d been cool and sexy, and so much more mature than the other guys at the party. They’d gone up the back stairs to his bedroom.

  Later, he’d asked her to go out with him, and promised to call to set up a date. She’d never heard from him again. The man sitting beside her gave no indication he remembered any of that. She’d never completely forgiven or forgotten him, and when he’d appeared on the news with his takedown heroics, the memories had planted themselves once again firmly in her psyche, a distraction she worked hard to ignore.

  Acting as his fake girlfriend was not the way to get past the stupidest of college mistakes.

  He put on the turn signal and glanced over his shoulder before changing lanes, his mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes. “We should fill in our story.” His voice rolled over her like warm chocolate, smooth and sensuous.

  Judge Creed and warm chocolate did not belong in the same thought. “Right.”

  He’d pulled off his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, turning back his sleeves to above his elbows. His suit jacket lay across the backseat. A few locks of thick black hair had fallen over his forehead, softening his rather severe image. The intelligence and intense personality that had drawn her all those years ago hadn’t abated. Okay, that was an understatement. The added maturity pegged the needle on the hot meter all the way over to the bonfire zone.

  “We should keep it simple, like your brother suggested. When I was in law school, you would have been an undergrad. Let’s sa
y we met at a party, then again years later at a conference, and have kept in touch since.”

  Ellie didn’t allow anything in her demeanor to give away that what he’d described was exactly how they had met. “Fine. Where was the conference?”

  “You’ve been to Las Vegas?” At her nod, he said, “I attended a conference there last year. Let’s say we met there, hooked up, and kept in touch.”

  “Wow, super romantic. If you plan on telling people this story, you better inject some emotion.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted a fraction. “I’ll assure anyone who asks that you’re the love of my life.”

  Only sheer force of will kept her gaze steady on his. “Let’s not go overboard, Creed. But there’s a problem. Rachel Sinclair is a smart, confident, modern woman, and she wouldn’t be willing to take all the risk in this relationship. She’s given up a position at her firm—where she was on track to make partner, by the way—to move to the wilderness to see if it’ll work out with her judge boyfriend. I think she’d want more of a commitment than that.”

  “You want me to ask you to marry me?”

  Ellie couldn’t hold back the laugh. He didn’t give much away, but the flash of panic on his face was gratifying.

  “Take it easy. I don’t think the bent knee thing would suit you. But yeah. Rachel Sinclair is in love, but not stupid kind of love. I’ll talk with Seth and get him to approve the purchase of an engagement ring.”

  Another long look, then he said, “I’ll take care of it.”

  She shrugged. “Fine, you talk to him.”

  He drummed long, squared-off fingers on the steering wheel. “Pendleton is not the wilderness.”

  “I’m from Southern California where wilderness is a prized commodity, so my observation is no insult. Regardless, I looked at a map. Pendleton is a remote outpost in the wilderness.”

  He opened his mouth like he would argue the point, but shook his head and said, “Give me a rundown of what I need to know about you.”

  She so didn’t want to do this. Any of it. She didn’t want to have a cozy chat with Sam Creed on a long drive to his home in Pendleton. She didn’t want to pretend she was engaged to him. She didn’t want to share her life story. All of it made her feel vulnerable, which she simply needed to get over.

  “Right. I’m thirty-two. I was born and raised in San Diego where my mom and stepfather still live. For the most part, my brothers and I had a typical suburban childhood. I attended college at the University of Oregon, then law school at Hastings.”

  He waited a beat. “That’s all you’ve got? There’s not more to Eleanor Jameson?”

  “I’m telling you about Rachel Sinclair. Granted, I’m keeping close to my own story, but all you need to know are the basics.”

  “We want this to work, don’t we? If people are going to believe we have a soul connection, you’ll have to go deeper, get past the superficial. Tell me more about Eleanor Jameson.”

  It took all her self-control not to lean away from him with arms folded over her chest in a defensive posture. “Like what?”

  “Like why Oregon for college?”

  The question was the same a much younger Sam Creed had asked her sophomore self. She kept her tone level. “University of Oregon offered me a full ride with a sports scholarship.”

  “What sport?”

  She lifted a brow. “What do you think?”

  “Since you’re all leg and have to be nearly six feet tall, I’d guess basketball.”

  “You’d guess right. And I’m five eleven, damn it.”

  “Damn it?”

  “Another inch and I could make Linc stop calling me Shorty. There’s respect in my family if you hit six feet.”

  “Ah, understood. So you played basketball for the Ducks. Major?”

  “History. You?”

  “History as well, but at Cal.”

  “You went to Berkeley?”

  He nodded. “But I only played intramural basketball.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You’d have had to pay out-of-state tuition, which would have made Berkeley expensive in addition to the cost of living in the Bay area. Either your family is wealthy, you have a boatload of student debt, or you earned a scholarship.”

  He gave a wry laugh. “My family was not wealthy. I got an academic scholarship along with some debt.”

  “Then you went to University of Oregon for law school.”

  “Right.”

  The questions went back and forth. He told her he’d clerked for a federal judge, but she’d had to pry out of him that the judge had been on the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals and was now a Supreme Court justice. Obviously, a prestigious appointment he wanted to downplay.

  After his clerkship, he’d been with the US Attorney’s office while teaching classes at the University of Oregon. Then had come the federal bench appointment. Ellie knew his was an amazing upward trajectory. But while he answered her questions about his career, he was reticent about his personal life. Sam hadn’t revealed much about himself that couldn’t be learned in a quick web search.

  “Were you raised in Pendleton?”

  “Thereabouts.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Either you were or you weren’t.”

  He shrugged. “My dad owned a ranch about thirty miles south of Pendleton until he died. That’s where I grew up.”

  “Was it a real ranch with cows and horses, or a hobby ranch with a nine-hole golf course?”

  “Rock Creek is a real ranch with cattle, not cows.” Something shifted in his expression. “My brother is running it now.”

  “You have a brother? Sisters?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend who’ll wonder why you’re suddenly engaged and not to her?”

  “No girlfriend. How about you? Any ghosts from the past who’ll show up to beat me bloody for grabbing you from under their noses?”

  He was the only ghost from her past. “Nope. No guy for me.”

  He fell silent, and Ellie turned to look out the window, glad for the reprieve. She tamped down the ember of resentment that had flared to life. It was stupid. She knew it was stupid to let that one night affect her so hard. They’d had a hookup. Not a big deal in and of itself, but his careless and soon forgotten promise to contact her after had been a blow to her confidence. What she thought would be the beginning of something had turned into a one-night stand she’d never intended. Add that to her father’s abandonment: no wonder she was distrustful of relationships.

  They arrived at the Pendleton airport where they were to turn in the rental car and pick up Sam’s vehicle. After parking, they approached the airport’s double glass doors when an older woman stopped suddenly in front of Ellie. She stepped back and found herself against Sam’s solid chest. His warmth radiated in the cool afternoon and she found the sudden closeness uncomfortable.

  “Excuse me, sorry for being so scattered.” The woman gave a flustered laugh. “My son and daughter-in-law are arriving with my new grandson and I’m so excited to see him that I completely forgot my phone in the car.”

  “A new grandson is exciting. Congratulations.” Ellie pasted a smile on her face as she struggled to ignore the blazing heat where her body connected with Sam’s. Layers of clothing didn’t seem to have any effect on the intensity generated by their proximity.

  She filed that knowledge away for future use: physical distance must be maintained if equilibrium is desired when dealing with Sam Creed.

  They were crossing to the car rental kiosk when Sam caught her hand in his. She glanced at him in surprise and he kept a firm hold when she tried to tug free. “I think we need to establish some boundaries, pal.”

  “We’ll establish boundaries later. Go with it,” he muttered.

  “Sammy, my man. How’s it going?” A short, florid-faced man zoomed toward them like a heat-seeking missile, his voice booming in greeting. He slapped Sam on the shoulder and Ellie wanted to kick the guy when his gaze traveled over
her, making a prolonged stop at her breasts before rising to her face. She felt the sudden need to take a shower.

  Sam pulled her closer to his side.

  “Didn’t know you were out of town. Where you been?” While his tone was overly jovial and on the surface he appeared affable, Ellie detected calculation in his eyes.

  “Finster.” If he noticed Sam hadn’t answered his question, he didn’t acknowledge the fact.

  “Who’s your gorgeous friend, Sammy?”

  “Gordon Finster, Rachel Sinclair.” Sam’s introduction was abrupt to the point of rudeness.

  Ellie nodded her head. “Mr. Finster.”

  “Call me Gordy, sweetheart, everyone does.” His gaze headed south once more. Once past her breasts, he seemed to focus on their clasped hands. “Here I am, gone for a couple days and it looks like things happen.”

  “Looks like,” Sam agreed as he nudged Ellie so they could move around the unpleasant man.

  “See you at work on Monday, then,” Gordon spoke to their backs as they resumed walking.

  It wasn’t until they’d picked up Sam’s vehicle and were on their way to his home that Ellie felt they could talk without the danger of being overheard. “Tell me about Gordon Finster.”

  “Besides being an obnoxious asshole, he’s case administrator for the federal court in Pendleton.” Sam glanced at her, then back at the road as he steered his Land Cruiser onto the highway on ramp. “He’s also under investigation for sexual harassment after two female clerks made complaints against him.”

  “Are you involved in the investigation?”

  “Peripherally. Gordon is looking for allies, hence the bro act. You’d think he wouldn’t leer at my girlfriend, but he’s an idiot as well as an asshole.”

  “Any motive for him to send you threatening messages?”

  Sam shrugged. “I supported the complainants, plus my interview didn’t go well for him and maybe he got wind of that, but I don’t think he has the balls to retaliate. I also don’t think he knows shit about C-four.”