Hidden Judgment Read online

  He brought her hand to his lips, gaze riveted on hers. She went stock-still, and he had the thought that the flush on her cheeks wasn’t all from the cold. He found flustering her didn’t bother him one bit.

  She licked her lips. “Okay.”

  “Part of that is you wearing your ring. Where is it?”

  “It’s your ring, and I left it on my nightstand. I don’t want to lose it.”

  “You won’t lose it. You need to wear it. People will notice if you don’t have an engagement ring.”

  “Right.”

  “And the least engaged couples do is hold hands.” He leaned forward. “Unless we’re in the house, we act the part, and that means keeping up the pretense so that anyone looking gets the message. You can’t act like I’m about to assault you every time I take your hand.”

  “You’re right.” She seemed to make a herculean effort to recover herself. “But honestly? I’m operating on that measly half cup of coffee, and we were almost run down by a crazy person.”

  “Excuses, marshal. Get in the game.”

  His skin prickled as Yvonne and Francie walked past.

  “Go with it,” he muttered, not for the first time. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. A brief kiss that lasted no more than a heartbeat, but sent a jolt through his body that struck all the way to the soles of his feet.

  He pulled back, the raw heat on her face hard to miss. “What the hell, Creed?” Her voice was pitched low, and any observer might have thought she was vowing everlasting love.

  “My name is Sam, and it’s all part of the cover.” The impulse for the kiss, he told himself, had at least started out that way. The problem was he was finding too many things about Eleanor Jameson that appealed to him.

  Like the fact that she was nearly as tall as he was, and with only a slight duck of his head they were matched lip to lip. Like the suspicion in those deep blue eyes that was incredibly sexy. Like her quick brain, which kept him on his toes.

  He leaned forward, his breath frosting the air between them. “Those two women have lived in Pendleton their entire lives, and between them they know everyone in town. You can bet that within the hour news that Judge Creed has a fiancée will be spreading like wildfire. Seeing us kissing makes it more believable. It’ll go a long way to countering anything that comes from your marshal-like nine-one-one call.”

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Fine, then. Let’s make it a good one.”

  She gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him down, all but fusing her lips with his. This time he expected the jolt, but not the explosion of heat that seared his blood. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was billowing from the top of his head into the chilly morning air.

  She pressed that long, lithe body against his, and it took all his willpower to keep from pulling her hips into his where all the heat in his body was pooling.

  Judges were supposed to maintain a certain level of decorum when in public, and it was a hard-fought contest to keep control when her mouth was avid on his, their tongues mating in a way that promised incineration if they ever ended up in bed.

  She eased her grip and broke the kiss, but not before giving his bottom lip a nip that had a groan rumbling from low in his throat. “They gone?”

  “Ah…” He was supposed to be able to think?

  “Yvonne and Francie and their dogs. Are they gone?” Her expression was entirely too smug.

  “Jesus.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, long gone.”

  Her smirk turned into a laugh. “This was all for show, right?”

  “Yeah, for show. Let’s get inside.”

  He had the uncomfortable feeling their situation had just gotten a lot more complicated.

  Chapter Six

  Ellie sat on the couch, the gas fire in the fireplace making the room warm and homey. Since their morning run, clouds had blown in and the temperature had dropped. A glance out the window showed a blustery wind stripping trees of their fall foliage. She guessed there’d be rain within the hour.

  Gumbie stretched her paws out in front of her, yawning in the way only cats could manage, then settled again on the back of the couch. Ellie glanced at the door to Sam’s office, ajar by about half a foot. Wide enough for her to hear him over the past hour, on the phone, tapping on a keyboard, or shuffling papers.

  Thank god he’d disappeared into his office after his shower and breakfast. She needed to be alone to gather her thoughts without him distracting her. What had she been thinking to kiss him like that? Sure, she’d been curious, and he wore his maleness like a banner, but they had a history she shouldn’t forget.

  She’d gotten over him pretending to be interested in her when all he’d really wanted was a hookup. That didn’t mean she trusted him now. The man who’d acted like that as a young law student wasn’t likely to have changed who he was at heart.

  So she’d been caught up in the moment and kissed him. It didn’t mean anything other than proof that whatever pheromones he possessed worked extra well on her. She’d take it as a cautionary lesson not to get too invested in the role of fiancée. She settled back against the cushions with her computer on her lap.

  A search found plenty of newspaper articles on Frank Bannister, as well as his father, and the groups they were affiliated with. She read through those, then dug deeper, using her security clearance to find more detailed information in government databases.

  It didn’t surprise her at all to find her father’s name came up in conjunction with some of the same groups as the Bannisters dabbled in. Richard Jameson was linked to not only the American Freedom Confederation, but also to SecAm.

  Next, she scoured social media platforms, following threads down the rabbit holes of right-wing conspiracy theories. There was an entire world of craziness once you dug beneath the surface of groups who self-identified as patriot militias.

  Some simply wanted a platform to spout off their anti-government, often racist, warped worldviews. She figured they’d always been present to a degree in American society, but the Internet had given them an avenue to crawl out from under the rocks that had hidden them to reach like-minded people.

  Others held ideologies that had evolved to the point where they’d become radicalized and fit the definition of domestic terrorists. Her father matched that profile, which made finding him more urgent before he caused greater destruction and pain than he’d already done.

  She opened her secure memo app to note the names and handles of those posting manifestos, delving into databases of known right-wing domestic terrorists, and found numerous references to the bombing of a federal courthouse in east Texas attributed to Richard Jameson. Not for the first time did she wonder what had turned her father down that path.

  Shaking off the mood that always accompanied evidence of her father’s betrayal, she continued working, noting her observations and research in files she saved on secure servers.

  A flash caught her attention and had her glancing out the window. The sky had darkened to a half-light and another bolt of lightning gave a strobe-like burst, followed by a crack of thunder echoing through the valley. The muffled patter of rain sounded against the roof as it began to pelt from the sky. Ellie set her laptop aside and rose to her feet to stand at the front-facing window and watch the show through the semi-sheer curtains.

  Treetops swayed, leaves caught a gust of wind and skittered across the road, and the darkened sky let loose with a deluge. Maybe it was because Southern California got so little real weather that she found the storm exciting. Lighting forked across the sky, and the thunder rolled through her. There was a click of nails on the hardwood floor and Cleo came to stand beside her, whimpering.

  “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe inside.” Ellie reached down to soothe the scared dog.

  Movement outside had her looking out the window again. A battered pickup turned onto the driveway, its headlights slicing the gloom. She watched until it passed out of sight as it drove around the house.


  With Cleo following close on her heels, Ellie crossed the room, stopping to rap her knuckles on the doorframe of Sam’s office. She pushed open the door. He sat at his desk, his hair fell across his forehead and retro horn-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose.

  She’d always been a sucker for the sexy nerd. Hot and brainy did it for her. If they were really engaged, she could see herself moving across the room to slide onto his lap, then taking off those glasses to see if she could distract him.

  Sam looked up from the papers in front of him at the same time as a chime sounded from his phone. He ignored the phone as his gaze snagged hers.

  She tried to will away the heat coming up her neck and cleared her throat. “We’ve got company.”

  He looked away to retrieve his phone and she let out her breath with a faint whistle. Fantasies like climbing onto his lap were going to get her in trouble. She should remember if that scenario ever played out, he’d likely finish it off by dumping her.

  He tapped the screen, then threw it down on the desk. “Damn. I’ll be right back.”

  When he would have brushed past her, she caught his arm. “Hold it, Creed. Tell me who it is.”

  “My brother. I’ll get rid of him.”

  “You have to introduce us.”

  “Not today.”

  “Now who’s not playing the part of the fiancé? And why wouldn’t you introduce me to your brother?”

  “Because he’s got nothing to do with this, and I don’t want to lie to him.”

  “A little while ago you were claiming that the women we met this morning would tell everyone in town we’re engaged. Plus, I’m living here. The first person you should have told about our engagement is your brother.”

  He sighed. “It’s not like that.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “But you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Come meet my brother.”

  While Sam moved to the kitchen, Ellie slipped up the stairs and grabbed the engagement ring off her nightstand. She returned to the kitchen as Sam ushered in a dark-haired man from the mudroom. Cleo and Tony pranced around, sniffing the visitor’s shoes and pants as he bent to scratch heads.

  “Drew, I want you to meet someone.” He beckoned her and Ellie stepped forward into the curve of his arm.

  Sam’s brother was not what she expected. Physically, the differences weren’t so great. Both men were tall, but while Sam had a rangy build that spoke of sinewy strength, Drew looked thin to the point of gauntness. Sam was clean-shaven, his hair long on top while neatly trimmed on the sides. Drew grew his lank and unkempt hair past his collar, a black baseball hat with yellow stitching that read Cattlemen’s Association on his head. She wondered if this was the brother Sam had mentioned on the drive, the one who ran the ranch where Sam had been raised.

  “This is Rachel. I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s accepted.”

  Drew’s eyebrows rose in unison. “No shit, you’re getting married?”

  “Yeah. The long-distance thing wasn’t working for either of us. We were ready to get married, so I proposed.”

  Ellie gave an internal grimace. Sam explained their engagement with all the romance of a practical and advantageous business merger.

  Drew didn’t appear surprised to learn that his brother had been involved in a long-distance thing. If she ever popped a surprise engagement on her brothers, she couldn’t see their reaction being anywhere near subdued. Explosive was more like it. If she’d been seeing someone long distance and hadn’t told them, they’d be all up in her business about it, grilling her like she was a murder suspect.

  Drew’s pale blue gaze traveled over her. His expression looked puzzled, which she could understand, but what she didn’t understand was the flash of anger.

  Sam offered coffee, and Drew nodded, gaze still on Ellie. She was usually good at reading people, but none of his reactions were what she’d consider typical of a man meeting his brother’s fiancée for the first time.

  “You pregnant?”

  “Drew.” Sam’s tone slapped out a warning.

  “Ah, no,” Ellie said. “We didn’t get engaged because I’m pregnant.”

  He grunted, then turned to his brother. “We’ve got trouble again out at the ranch.”

  Sam opened a cupboard and retrieved three mugs before turning to face Drew. “What trouble?”

  “Damn fucking wolf killed a bull calf. Pete won’t go after it.”

  “Why do you think it was a wolf? Wolves are rare around here.”

  “Animal was gutted, chewed to shit. What else could it have been? Damn environmental liberation bastards brought the wolves back when we’d gotten rid of them a hundred years ago. They want to drive ranchers out so wolves and grizzlies can have the land to themselves.” He took the coffee Sam poured for him. “Good thing we’ve got our guns. You’ve got to talk to Pete, get him to track it down.”

  “Pete doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  “He’ll listen to you.”

  “Could be he doesn’t think it’s a wolf.”

  “I’m telling you, it was a wolf. You track nearly as good as Pete. You could go after it.”

  Sam passed Ellie a steaming mug. There was an odd dynamic between Sam and Drew she found puzzling. Drew clearly deferred to his brother, but she sensed that he felt Sam owed him. She wondered for what.

  Sam sipped his coffee. “That why you drove into town, to tell me about a dead bull calf?”

  Drew shrugged. “Shouldn’t need a reason to visit my brother.” He glanced at Ellie. “Wouldn’t know you were engaged if I hadn’t. Not like you called to tell me.”

  “Phone goes both ways, brother.”

  Drew slid his gaze to Ellie before giving Sam a long look. “She know about us?”

  Sam paused, mug halfway to his mouth.

  Drew gave a wheezy laugh before turning to Ellie. “Make sure he tells you about our screwed-up family before you walk down the aisle, sweet thing, because you’ll likely want to hightail it in the other direction.”

  “Everybody’s family is screwed up in one way or another. Whatever it is won’t change how I feel about Sam.” She looked at Drew over the rim of her own mug, her gaze cool. “And ‘sweet thing’ doesn’t work for me. You can call me Rachel.”

  Drew gave a bark of laughter. “Now I know what Sam sees in you.” He finished his coffee and turned to his brother. “You coming to the ranch?”

  “I’ll call Pete. If he says it’s a wolf, I’ll make the appropriate call.”

  “Then you’ll go hunting with me.”

  Sam shook his head. “I’m not hunting wolf. They’re needed to balance the ecosystem.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “No, that’s science.”

  ***

  Drew left and the muted ticking of a wall clock could be heard in the quiet of the kitchen. Tony sighed as he lay down on a large, flat cushion in one corner of the floor. Next to him, Cleo lay with her nose on her paws, big brown eyes following the movements of the humans in the room.

  “What do I need to know about your family?”

  Sam remained standing at the sink, staring out the window. When he finally spoke, she thought he sounded tired. “Drew’s last name is Martin. His mother married my father when Drew was four.”

  “So he’s your stepbrother. How old were you when they got married?”

  “Ten.” He finally turned to face her. “Drew was this skinny little kid. He’d never say boo, but followed me around like a damn shadow.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “Died.” He looked down. “I was eight. We weren’t earning enough with the ranch so she worked in town as a waitress. She was coming home from a late shift and got hit head on by a pickup. Drunk driver crossed the double yellow.”

  “Jesus, Sam. I’m so sorry.” Her own father had disappeared from her life when she was about that age so she understood some of
what Sam was feeling. She wondered if Richard Jameson choosing to abandon his family made it better or worse.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “What about your dad?”

  He shrugged. “Joss Creed was a tough man. His way of dealing with grief was to take it out on his son. My aunt, Mom’s sister, found out he was beating the shit out of me and called the authorities. I was placed with her for a while, but eventually ended up back at the ranch.”

  “You were just a boy.”

  “It doesn’t feel like I was just a boy. But I’d learned things were better if I could stay out of my dad’s way. Anything I could do to get away from the house and him, I did. Went hunting for days on end, hiked all over the mountains, worked the ranch. Spent most of my time with the foreman’s family. Then Dad married Jane, Drew’s mom. After that, things got better.”

  “Did your dad mistreat Drew?”

  “He ignored Drew, for the most part. I guess that’s its own form of mistreatment.” He shrugged. “He was strict, and certainly not a loving father, but he didn’t beat him. I don’t know that Jane ever loved Dad, but marrying him got her out of a bad situation and she seemed content with that. She took care of us, made the house a home.”

  Sam arranged the mugs in the dishwasher. When he didn’t continue his narrative, she said, “That doesn’t explain Drew’s comment about your family being screwed up. It seems like your family came together.”

  “Sounds pretty screwed up to me.”

  There was more there, she was sure of it, but his tone said that avenue was closed. She made a mental note to look into Drew Martin’s background. “What was your aunt like?”

  “How is she relevant to the investigation?”

  His question was a good reminder that her interest shouldn’t be personal.

  “The more I know, the better I can fit together the pieces of the puzzle. Plus, we could be in a social situation where someone would expect that I know something about you.”