Hidden Judgment Read online

  “It does. Damn shame. Whoever would do a thing like that is sick.”

  “Guts strewn about will attract other animals,” Sam said.

  Ellie could read behind the disgust on Sam’s face to see that killing the calf hurt him.

  “Probably that was the idea.” Pete spread his hands in front of him. “Coyotes got to it, made it harder to tell that it was killed by human hand. But the sheriff saw it for what it was.”

  “Drew’s convinced it was wolf.” A look passed between the two men that made Ellie think there was more about Drew that they were holding back on.

  Pete shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

  ***

  The Gator bumped along the road back to the barn, Sam steering the utility vehicle around ruts. The ranch roads needed grading before winter hit. He glanced at the woman sitting beside him. Ellie had listened attentively as he’d driven around the property. She’d asked good questions that showed she was giving thought to the operation. He couldn’t help finding satisfaction in sharing with her something that was important to him. That thought alone should give him pause, but he found he didn’t give a damn. He liked her, and if he was honest, he’d given her a tour of the ranch because he wanted her to see where he came from. There was nothing to be gained from her seeing the land except an understanding of him.

  He parked the Gator under the shed overhang. They went in search of Pete and found him in a small office in the barn, sitting at a desk piled with papers weighted down with a horseshoe. He looked up when they walked in.

  “We’re heading out.” Sam paused. “Never thought I’d say it, but be careful. You’re alone here until Drew gets back, and who knows when that will be. Whoever killed that calf might not be done messing with us.”

  Pete nodded to a gun cabinet on the far wall. “Figure I can still hit what I’m aiming at, if it comes to that. And god knows Drew likes his guns.” His face took on a scowl. “I put that damn ad in the paper like you told me to. A guy’s coming in tomorrow morning for a trial period. Likely won’t know a pitchfork from a shovel.”

  “Don’t make him pass on the job because you’re a hardass.”

  “If he can’t handle a hardass, he shouldn’t take the job.” He raised a weathered hand to stop a comeback. “But if he can work, I’ll hire him. I’ll keep my word.”

  “Make sure he knows what’s going on so he can keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

  Pete nodded. “When Minnie goes into labor, they’ll be more folks here. Ron Harder’s daughters want to be here when she delivers. Told them I’d give them a call when the time comes. They’ll liven up the place.”

  “They’re kids, you sure they won’t get in the way?”

  Pete smiled, and the resemblance to Ben was stronger. “Lot you know. Those girls are thirteen and sixteen. The older one’s bent on being a big animal vet and wants the experience, and the younger one’s not about to be left out of anything her sister does. Ron hardly lets those girls out of his sight, so he’ll be here, too.”

  “Thirteen and sixteen? When the hell did that happen?” Sam turned to Ellie. “The Harders are neighbors to the south.”

  Pete rose and walked with them out of the barn.

  “Kids grow up and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. I got me a granddaughter now, and pretty soon she’ll be big enough for her grandpa to take her out on a horse.” He gave Sam a long look. “Don’t worry about me.”

  ***

  “You’re still worried about him.”

  “Yeah, of course I am. Pete’s closer to seventy than sixty, but he won’t slow down. It took both Ben and me leaning on him heavy before he agreed to hire another hand.”

  “I get why you’re worried, but there’s a serenity to that man that makes me think he’s contented with his life. Makes me a little envious.”

  Sam glanced at her in question as she waited at a stoplight on the outskirts of Pendleton.

  “You discontented with your life, Ellie?”

  She shrugged and he caught her pensive expression. “Not really, but I’ve been thinking about the future a lot lately. I’m not sure the Marshals Service will be a lifelong career for me.” She blew out a gusty breath. “Whew. I’ve never said that out loud before, much less told anyone that I’ve even thought it.”

  “Why not?”

  “My singular goal since he left has been to find my father and bring him to justice for what he’s done. We’re getting closer, and it’s made me wonder, what then? What will my goal be after Richard Jameson is behind bars?”

  “There are plenty of fugitives who need to be brought to justice.”

  “True.” She steered onto Sam’s street, her expression still thoughtful.

  They pulled in front of the garage. Sam gripped her arm when she went to open the car door.

  “Hang on.”

  “What?” She went instantly alert.

  “Someone’s been here.” He pointed to an area under the white oak where deep grooves gouged the sod, and dirt and grass had been churned into a muddy mess. Sam pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “It looks like someone drove a vehicle and spun their wheels. Did you get a security alert?”

  “Only the house alarm gives an alert, but I can access the camera recordings on my phone.”

  When the app opened, he held his phone so she could see the screen. The image was remarkably clear. An older model dark gray truck had turned onto the driveway from the street, then sped around the house to the back where it spun around a couple of times on the lawn under the tree. It sat idling for a moment, dark tinted windows making it impossible to see the driver. Then, with tires throwing up sprays of dirt, the vehicle spun in another tight circle before speeding back up the driveway.

  Ellie frowned. “Do you recognize the vehicle?”

  “No. But about everyone around here has a truck. It’s not one I recognize, though. It has plastic covers over the license plates so they can’t be read.”

  “This seems juvenile, like something a kid would do.”

  Sam considered her comment. “Yeah. An immature dumbass. How would they have known we weren’t home? I park in the garage, so unless they saw us leave, they risked me coming out with my shotgun.”

  “Judge Creed has a shotgun?”

  “Judge Creed protects what’s his within the limits of the law.”

  What’d been a nice grassy area shaded by the big tree was now a gaping wound in the land with tree roots laid bare and mud sprayed in all directions. His aunt had spent hours tending that yard and it ate at him to see it laid waste.

  They stepped out of the Land Cruiser. Ellie had her phone out, taking pictures of the muddy mess. The dogs barked from inside.

  Sam touched her elbow. “I want to take a look around before we go in the house.”

  She nodded, walking with him around the garage, and up the back slope along a narrow path. “Anything look different?”

  “Someone’s been through here since it rained yesterday.”

  A bunch of grass and wet leaves may not look suspicious to her, but Pete had taught him to know when someone had tromped around his property. They reached the top of the hill and the posts that formed the boundary of his property, then followed the stone wall back down the slope. He pointed to a couple of clearly marked footprints.

  “When’s the last time you were up here?”

  “Not sure. A couple of weeks at least.”

  “Do you have a gardener or neighbor who might come this way?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay. Let’s see if anything’s been disturbed around the house. You should file a police report, and I’ll call Seth to let the team know.”

  ***

  Ellie sat on the couch with her laptop, legs curled under her. Cleo and Tony lay on a rug in front of the fireplace, and Gumbie purred as she stretched. The cat had decided that the cushion next to Ellie was her current favorite spot. Ellie scratched under Gumbie’s chin, making her purr
louder. Sam sat in the recliner reading something on his iPad. They were one big happy family. It bugged her that she couldn’t lock Sam away in a corner of her brain and focus on her work.

  Seth had sent her a bulletin on a bank robbery that had occurred in southern Idaho the previous week. He’d also sent information that their father had been identified on surveillance footage at a gas station in the same town the day before the bank robbery. The three bank robbers wore bulky coats, and parking lot cameras showed them with ski masks on as they’d emerged from their vehicle, which, she noted, was not the same one Richard Jameson had filled up at the gas station.

  The three had robbed the bank and returned to their vehicle with their haul, speeding away before police arrived. The robbers had to’ve spent the night somewhere and Ellie made a mental note to check short-term rentals. Investigators usually checked motels, but sometimes neglected other housing options.

  Significant as the developments were, all the while she was reading through the email and viewing the attachments, she was cognizant of Sam in a way that was truly annoying. He breathed and she felt the air move, he tapped his fingers on the armrest and it sounded like a snare drum, he rubbed his hand over his chin and she could hear the rasp of the whiskers.

  He was driving her crazy.

  Maybe she should jump him, they’d have wild jungle sex, and he’d be purged from her system.

  She tried watching him out of the corner of her eye without turning her head. Keen intelligence, integrity, and that long, lean body – yeah, her type of guy.

  “You keep looking at me like that and there’ll be trouble.”

  “Maybe I want trouble.” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

  He set aside his iPad and when she looked at him directly, his smoldering eyes told her he wasn’t unaffected by whatever was simmering between them, but he was doing a better job of reining in any crazy impulses.

  “I wouldn’t mind some of that trouble myself, but I’m not scratching that itch for you, Eleanor. We get together, I want it to be for the right reasons, not because it’s convenient.”

  “Jesus, there’s irony for you.”

  “What’s the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  She could tell him what had happened all those years ago, expose the wall between them, but she didn’t want to risk the complications. “Nothing. It means nothing.” She stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

  ***

  The next morning she steered into the parking lot near the federal courthouse, Sam sitting in the passenger seat.

  “I’ll meet you at the diner at noon. You can park here and walk, it’s a half block down that street.” He pointed. “You okay to drive without me?”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t stall it once this morning. I’ve got this.”

  He cocked his head. “You should come in and see my chambers. That seems like an engaged couple kind of thing.”

  Her heart gave an extra-hard thud that she hid behind nonchalance. “Sure.”

  They walked to the courthouse hand in hand, and she realized she was getting used to the physical connection. They entered the building through a side entrance that led to a long, narrow hall lined with closed doors on either side.

  A woman with glasses perched on top of a wild mass of salt-and-pepper hair gave a wide smile when she saw them. “Sam Creed, the rumors are true then.”

  “Liz, this is my fiancée, Rachel Sinclair. Rachel, this is Liz Potenciano, also a judge in this court.”

  “Nice to meet you, Liz.” Ellie shook the other woman’s hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you. I never thought I’d see this guy settle down. He’s a sly one. No one even knew he had a girlfriend.” Her phone chimed. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll expect an invitation to the wedding.”

  Sam looked resigned as he took Ellie down another hallway. Ellie hoped his friends would forgive him when they “broke up.” He stopped at a door with a nameplate that read “The Honorable Samuel D. Creed.”

  “What’s the ‘D’ stand for?”

  “David. My parents went for the conventional.”

  “It’s a strong name.”

  “When I was a boy I wanted a name like Running Bear or White Eagle in the worst way.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” she asked with a smile.

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Here are my chambers.”

  Ellie stepped into a paneled room with dark wood floors upon which sat a huge deep maroon rug with blue and white scrollwork throughout. In the right corner of the sizeable room was a large dark wood desk with a computer monitor on the left side, and an old-fashioned blotter with maroon edging in the middle of the desk. The chair behind the massive desk was a high-back executive chair in dark leather with brass studding around the edges. Behind the chair was a dark wood credenza, and several tall wood filing cabinets lined the wall opposite the desk.

  “What, no bookcases full of law books?”

  “That’s what the Internet and my law clerk are for.”

  “How iconoclastic of you. When I was in law school, it seemed like a judge wasn’t serious unless he had a wall of law books behind his desk.”

  “And I bet not one of those books was ever opened.”

  She approached the door on the opposite wall. “Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead, but you’re a US Marshal, you’ve seen dozens of courtrooms.”

  “But not yours.” She stepped through the door and took in the space. The high wood-paneled judge’s bench with the courtroom deputy clerk’s lower attached desk dominated the room. In front of a half wall were two long tables for the defense and US attorneys, each with three chairs. Behind the half wall was a center aisle with seven rows of seats for the gallery on each side, and to the left of the bench was the jury box. In front of the bench was the court reporter’s chair, and beside it was the judge’s personal clerk’s desk.

  She liked courtrooms with their traditions and ceremony. They were emblematic of the rule of law that was the bedrock of a democratic society.

  She returned to Sam’s chambers and spied his black robe hanging from a hook. “You know, you’re popular on social media.”

  “Huh?”

  “Social media. You’re popular.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I avoid social media like leprosy.”

  “It doesn’t avoid you. The video of you taking down that guy with a knife went viral with over a million views. Women thought you were hot.”

  His expression held horror that could not be faked. “You’re making that up.”

  She couldn’t stifle her giggle. She pulled out her phone. “I’m not making it up. I can’t believe people haven’t shown you.” She tapped out a search, then held up her screen. “Look.”

  First she showed the video of his heroics, then she shared a meme of a woman licking her lips and leering at an image of Sam, sexy in his judge’s robes, the thought bubble over her head suggesting that she knew who she wanted delivering her punishment.

  “What the hell?” Red stained his cheeks.

  “Want to see others?”

  “There are others? How do I take them down?”

  “You don’t. That’s the price you pay for being a hot federal judge.”

  “You think this is funny,” he said, accusation vibrating in his tone.

  They stepped out of his chambers and she couldn’t help laying her hands on the lapels of his suit jacket. She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying his discomfort quite so much. “Maybe a little bit. No more heroic leaps over your bench and you’ll fade into obscurity.”

  He was still scowling when she gave in to impulse and leaned forward to brush her lips against his. The warmth in his eyes turned flat when a loud “woohoo” echoing down the hall had them both turning their heads.

  Gordon Finster flashed his toothy smile, wagging a finger like he’d caught them doing something naughty. Sam obviously thought she’d spied Finster and that her kiss had been for show. Better than the
truth, Ellie assured herself.

  “Christ, that man can’t get a clue,” Sam muttered.

  “Let’s give him something to gossip about.” She went up on tiptoes for a kiss that was more than a simple brush of lips. Tension eased like a deep sigh. This was what she’d been missing since the last time they’d kissed, that rush of feeling from the top of her head to that hot curl of lust in her belly. It made her want to forget about being a marshal on the job and find a quiet place where they could explore that flare of heat that ignited whenever they touched.

  “You’re playing with fire, Ellie,” he murmured against her lips. Then he was opening his mouth and his tongue swept across hers and she wasn’t thinking at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Ellie parked the Land Cruiser on the driveway behind Sam’s house. She eyed the mess left by the truck and found herself angry all over again. Someone had willfully violated the pretty and peaceful setting Sam and his aunt had created. Ellie was fairly certain that whoever had spun out their vehicle under the tree didn’t have the same agenda as the person or persons threatening Sam. Tearing up a lawn didn’t have the same impact as plastic explosives strapped to a judge’s car.

  With the bag of groceries in her hand, she dug out the house key Sam had given her. The wind had picked up to blow icy fingers down her collar, and the dome of the sky gleamed a hard and brittle blue. A honking sound above had her tipping back her head to witness a long V of geese flying overhead. She watched until they disappeared. While she loved San Diego with its diversity and quirky vibe, the wildness in this part of Oregon held an equally strong appeal.

  Cleo and Tony rushed her with tails wagging as she went through their enclosure to the back door. They looked dapper in the plaid coats she and Sam had put on them that morning. Once inside, she disengaged the alarm, set the bag on the counter, and began putting away the milk, produce, and bread she’d bought.

  Feeling unsettled, she filled the coffeemaker with water, measured out ground coffee, and set the machine to do its thing. Forty minutes after that sublime kiss she was still riding the high. She’d been an idiot going with impulse rather than control. Again. But she was done beating herself up about it.