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Hidden Judgment Page 4
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He lined a baking pan with foil and arranged the veggies on the tray, his movements competent. He drizzled them with olive oil, then sprinkled herbs and sea salt. He took filleted chicken breasts from the bag where they’d been marinating and arranged them in another pan, then put both chicken and veggies in the oven. A bottle of wine sat uncorked on the counter.
“You want a glass?”
“Hmm?”
“Wine, Eleanor. Would you like a glass of wine?”
Head in the game, Ellie. Head in the game. “That would be nice. Do you mind if I make a pot of coffee? My brothers will want some.”
“Sure.” He opened a cupboard over the coffee maker and pulled down a canister. When she was filling the carafe with water, she said, “Do you have copies of the threats you received? I’d like to see them.”
“I emailed them to Seth. He didn’t share them with you?”
“No. I only know what was said at the meeting today. I haven’t seen the actual emails.”
“Right.” He poured wine for them and set her glass on the counter where she was standing. “I’ll get them.”
Once the coffeemaker was glugging away, she took her wine to a table recessed in a corner nook of the kitchen. A cozy spot with windows in both walls showing the back and side yard of the house and the driveway, she imagined a pancake breakfast here would be fabulous.
A formal dining area lay between the living room and the kitchen. With the local newspaper folded next to her, she guessed that this more casual space was where Sam ate his meals.
He returned with a sheaf of papers and set them in front of her. He’d printed the emails and gave them to her in chronological order. All of them had been sent to Sam’s official email address at the courthouse. The sender’s email handle was “Freedom Defender.” The first message, dated mid-September, was short and to the point.
Traitor Judge, prepare your own defense. Come for our guns and we come for you. Heed the warning. Those who violate our rights die. Protect the real America. Free Frank Bannister.
The next email, also from Freedom Defender, had been sent a week later.
Judge Asshole, want to see your world burn? The sword of righteousness will destroy the symbols of tyranny. The defenders of America will prevail.
Five days later, a third email was sent.
We know where you live. We know what you drive. We know where you shop. Read the Constitution, traitor. Free Frank Bannister.
She flipped through the pages. The emails had come nearly every week and the messages were along the same theme. A couple contained lengthier diatribes against restrictions on the Second Amendment, while most were brief and increasingly threatening. She glanced up to find Sam leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, serious gray gaze on her.
“Who’s Frank Bannister?”
“Member of a Constitutional militia group based east of here. ATF arrested him on weapons violations after he was pulled over and found to have a half dozen semiautomatic weapons and a couple of grenade launchers in his possession. They’d been stolen from a military base. I presided over his conviction and sentencing earlier this year. He’s incarcerated at the federal penitentiary in Lompoc, California.”
The dogs made a racket outside and Sam gave a half smile. “Early warning system.” He tapped on an iPad and opened an app before handing it to her. “Here’s what my security cameras show.”
The cameras provided a wide angle, and the images they captured remarkably clear. Linc drove a large SUV that pulled up in front of the garage.
Setting down the iPad, she followed Sam through the mudroom to the back door. The beagles were at the fence, barking and howling. Ellie stood at the steps while Sam went to open the gate. Linc, Seth, and Bella approached the house. Bella had her huge purse slung over her shoulder and her arms crossed in front of her. Seth wore what as a teenager Ellie had dubbed his butt face, meaning completely expressionless, a look that meant he wanted to hide what he was thinking. Linc gave Ellie an eyeroll that she easily interpreted to mean that Seth and Bella had been in their usual prickly standoff, likely for the entire drive. It made Ellie feel a little better about travelling alone with Sam.
A few moments later, the kitchen was full of people and animals. Even the cat ventured in to investigate the commotion.
Seth gave Ellie a portable gun safe so she could safely store her weapon. She ran upstairs with it, and when she came down, Sam was offering beverages. As she expected, both Seth and Linc opted for coffee.
Sam took down mugs and Ellie began filling them. She felt more than saw her brother behind her back. Linc loomed over her shoulder in a way he knew she found annoying. Some things never changed.
He spoke in a low voice. “How are the new digs? Creed treating you right?”
She poured coffee and handed him the mug. “Back off, big brother.” She leveled a look. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I’m still your brother.”
“Then give me some respect.” There was nothing new in this argument. Seth approached and she handed him a full mug. “At least you could be like Seth and not verbalize the big brother crap.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t think it,” Seth muttered as he walked by.
She made a shooing motion. “You’re crowding me.”
Her brothers moved away as Sam approached. “What about Bella?”
Bella had left the room after being directed to the bathroom. “She’ll want tea. Point me in the direction of a tea kettle and I’ll put it on.”
He shook his head even as he was reaching over her into an overhead cupboard. Before she could move out of his way, he’d brought down a little red kettle.
“I’ll rinse it out and put the water on.” He pointed to another cabinet. “Look in there for teabags.”
She rummaged around and found a box in the back. She hoped tea didn’t go bad. With the kettle on a cooktop burner, Sam found another mug. He nodded to Seth. “Why don’t you all go in the living room. We’ll eat in about half an hour.”
The aroma of baking chicken vied with the stronger smell of full-bodied coffee. While the others trooped out of the kitchen, Ellie stayed behind, sipping her wine while waiting for the water in the kettle to boil. The slightly smaller of the beagles sat next to Sam, staring longingly into his face.
“Is that Tony or Cleo?”
“Cleo. Besides being a girl, she has more brown than black on her coat. She’s reminding me it’s time for their dinner.”
“Show me what they’re fed and I’ll do it.”
***
Sam studied the people sitting around his living room. He was always interested in family dynamics, maybe because growing up in his own family had been so atypical, and watching his father had been key to survival. As a judge, he paid attention to the defendants in his courtroom—if they fidgeted, how they talked to their lawyers, whether they acknowledged any friends or family among the spectators. The habit often gained him valuable insight into their character.
While he figured any of the Jameson siblings could easily take on the group leader job, they seemed satisfied leaving that role to Seth.
The four-member team appeared tight, the Jamesons tighter still, and while he detected tension between Bella and Seth, they appeared able to work around it. Bella sat next to Linc, who currently had his eyes glued to his phone, a grin on his face as he tapped out a message. Seth sat in the recliner, and instead of opting for the second single seat, Sam sat on the loveseat next to Ellie. He caught her surprised look. Too bad. If they were going to pull this thing off, she’d have to get used to being close to him.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said she was all leg. She was wearing some sort of tights that showed off those long, toned legs perfectly. When they’d talked on the drive, he’d had a moment of déjà vu. That bugged him, because he generally had an excellent memory for names and faces. They’d barely scratched the surface of learning about each other. At some poin
t she’d say something that would jog his memory and he’d figure out where they’d met before.
When the emailed threats had started coming in, he’d contacted the US Marshals Service and spoken to Chief Deputy Seth Jameson. Seth had started the investigation and wanted to assign a two-deputy security detail. Before that could happen, Sam had discovered the C-4 attached to his car. There’d been enough explosive power that if that bomb had detonated, he’d have been dead, and anyone in a thirty-yard radius would have been as well.
He’d been so pissed he’d come up with the plan to leave himself open and flush out whoever was targeting him. Seth hadn’t liked the idea so the compromise was Sam’s “fiancée” would be an undercover marshal. He didn’t want a babysitter, but he acknowledged his safety was compromised.
Of all people to play the part he had to get a woman who wound him up. That reality had to do with more than her looks. Ellie made observations and asked questions that revealed an inquisitive mind, and he knew for damn sure that if he’d met her under different circumstances he’d have asked her out.
The plan was for them to live in the same house, sleep across the hall from each other, and, in public, behave like an engaged couple. That instant punch-in-the-gut attraction he’d felt when he’d first laid eyes on her? He’d have to ignore that. Hell, he hadn’t even had to lay eyes on her. His back had been turned when she’d walked into the conference room, but he’d felt the air suddenly charge like a lightning storm was imminent. and had turned to find she’d been the cause.
He wondered if she felt the connection, and if that was why she seemed to be trying to rein in what he guessed was her naturally open behavior when she was around him. Maybe she wanted to maintain a professional distance between them. She appeared comfortable in his home, willing to help out, and at least with her brothers and Bella, had a ready smile or laugh. She only held back around him.
Ellie reached out her booted foot and nudged Linc. “You texting Mikayla heart emojis, lover boy?”
“Maybe.”
“How’s she doing with you being gone?”
“Looking forward to our assignment being done, but she gets that being away from home is part of my job.”
“Well, tell her smoochie-smoochie bye-bye. We’ve got work to do.”
“My wife misses me. What can I say?” He was still smiling when he stuffed the phone into the front pocket of his jeans. He jerked his chin toward the papers his sister held. “What do you have there?”
“These are the threats emailed to Sam.” She handed the sheaf of papers to Linc, then turned to Seth. “Judge Creed filled me in on his connection with Frank Bannister. What else do we know?”
“Bannister was raised in a small town east of here. His father was suspected in the bombing of a BLM office in eastern Oregon three years ago. While ATF was looking into that, the elder Bannister and another son blew themselves up in their barn in what appears to be an accident. Our guess is they were constructing a bomb and likely would have targeted some other federal facility. That was a little over two years ago. We found they were members of an anti-government group calling themselves ‘SecAm,’ short for Second Amendment, that appears supported by the American Freedom Confederation.”
“Any similarities to the bomb found on Sam’s car?” Linc asked.
Seth shook his head. “Not that we’ve been able to verify other than it’s the same type of explosive. When the Bannister father and son blew themselves to hell, they also destroyed physical evidence that might have connected the two devices, so right now we’ve got nothing.”
Ellie arranged a cushion so she could lean against it. “I’m calling Freedom Defender FD, and he feels like a guy to me. I’m sticking with that unless I learn differently. Any ideas who FD is or where his emails are coming from?”
“No. The emails were sent from a public library in a small town east of here. We requested and received video surveillance footage, but the only cameras are on the outside of the building and weren’t helpful. We’re focusing on known associates of Bannister, but FD could simply be an admirer and not know Bannister personally.”
“Are Bannister’s visitors and mail being monitored, and has anyone else received emails from FD?” The questions came from Bella. She spoke with a hint of an accent. Given the surname Nikolaev, Sam guessed if not Russian, then something close to it.
Seth nodded. “There are no reports of other judges or federal officials receiving communications from Freedom Defender. All contact with Bannister is being scrutinized. Our investigation has focused on members of SecAm. Their primary ideology is that the US government is illegitimate because it isn’t upholding the Constitution, in particular by allowing restrictions on gun ownership. While their primary goal is what they consider defense of the Second Amendment, there is an underpinning of white supremacism, and some members espouse neo-Nazi bullshit. They believe in a version of Social Darwinism, arguing that Americans of northern European descent are naturally superior, and their job is to defend the country from the invasion by people of ‘inferior’ races.” Seth turned to Sam. “Anything you can add to that?”
Sam nodded. “SecAm has held or participated in rallies in various locations in the northwest. Videos have surfaced definitively credited to them showing bonfires where people give the Nazi salute as books and brown-skinned dolls are thrown onto the flames. There’s a case coming up on my docket involving four members of SecAm accused of kidnapping three migrant workers from Guatemala. The arrest records state the workers were taken from a farm in Oregon to a cabin across the state line in Idaho where they were beaten and held. One of the three hostages, the only woman, escaped and notified authorities.”
“Fucking bastards,” Linc muttered. He turned to Seth. “Have you interviewed these four about SecAm?”
Seth nodded. “We tried, but they sat mute next to their lawyers.” He shrugged when Linc scowled. “We have their records, which go back a few years, and we’ve been trying to make connections to other members through their former cellmates or known associates. The group is careful and insular. Nailing these four is the first break we’ve had, but SecAm is cagey. They haven’t gone back to that farm or anywhere near that area. We’re keeping a close watch on a few places where there are clusters of migrant workers, but I’m sure they’re not going to repeat that mistake.”
Ellie turned to Sam. “How can you be impartial when you’re being threatened by that group?” She scrunched her brows. “I’d want to kick their asses.”
“There’s nothing to indicate these four had anything to do with the emails or the explosive strapped to my Cruiser. In and of itself, group affiliation, no matter how distasteful the group, is a liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment. They’re entitled to a fair trial based on the evidence that’s presented. Besides, most of what we’ve talked about is circumstantial. You’ve inferred that the bomb is connected to the person sending the emails, and that the person sending the emails is connected to cases I’ve tried, or to the SecAm group. You went to law school, you know you’d need a hell of a lot more hard evidence if you want to draw a solid line between your suppositions.”
“I’d still want to kick their circumstantial asses.”
Sam smothered a smile as Bella and Linc both laughed.
“But seriously,” Ellie persisted, “couldn’t they claim that you’re biased because of the threats?”
“Their lawyers might try to have me recused, and the case might be given to a different judge, but so far that hasn’t happened. We’ll have to see how it plays out.”
A timer chimed and Ellie rose when Sam did and followed him into the kitchen. “What can I do?”
He pointed. “Get plates from that cabinet. Dining room table is bigger so we’ll eat in there. Utensils are in the drawer by the dishwasher.”
Sam opened the oven and used a fork to test the food, then took the trays out to set on the cooktop to cool. Ellie gathered plates, stacked them with knives and forks, and took them
to the table. When she returned, he handed her cutting boards. “Put these on the table and I’ll bring out the food.”
“You’re serving dinner in what you cooked the food in? Your aunt must have had serving dishes.”
“What’s wrong with serving in the pans?”
“Nothing, if you’re eating by yourself. You’re not, and nice tableware makes a difference.”
“And a lot more dirty dishes. Let’s keep it simple.”
“Nope.” She began opening cupboard doors. “Don’t worry about cleanup, we’ll make Linc and Seth do it. I love doing that. Here we are.” She reached to an upper shelf, her sweater hitching up to give him a view of an enticingly cupped ass. She brought down a platter and oval-shaped bowl he wasn’t even sure he knew he owned.
She examined the blue and white pattern, then turned over the bowl to look at the mark on the bottom. “Ooh, made in England. I love English pottery.”
She set the serving pieces now laden with the chicken and veggies on the table, and Sam had to admit the table looked nice using the old dishes. They took their seats, Linc again busy texting.
“Pardon my brother, Sam,” Ellie told him. “Linc’s been married only six weeks and is still in the stupid-love stage of being a newlywed.”
Linc looked up with a wry grin and pocketed his phone.
“I think it’s sweet,” Bella commented. “Mikayla is lucky Linc is so devoted to her.”
Sam caught the heated glance Seth shot Bella. From what he could see, the two marshals seemed to avoid speaking directly to each other, but there were little things that gave away what he was beginning to suspect was a keen attraction they both appeared to be fighting.
It didn’t go unnoticed that Seth had nudged his brother aside so he could sit next to Bella, or that when their hands brushed, they both froze before jerking back. He caught a look of amusement pass between Ellie and Linc after they also witnessed the exchange.
Sitting beside him, Ellie turned to Sam. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. What do you usually do on weekends?”
“It varies.” He nudged the platter of chicken toward her. “I catch up on reading for upcoming cases, and I get outside, try to do something physical. Take the dogs out, spend time with friends.” He paused to sip wine. “Be ready for questions when I introduce you. People will wonder how I’ve suddenly acquired a fiancée.” He reached into his pocket. “Here.”