Marked (Tortured Heroes Book 3) Read online

  Jerry Jordan puffed out his chest and went on a tirade about how the government’s motion for more discovery was aimed at harassing his client. He never took a damn breath and stepped out from behind his table and toward the judge.

  My back stiffened and from the corner of my eye, I noticed the fireplug Marshal at her side reacting the same way. You don’t approach the bench without asking permission first. And you don’t do it just so you can get in the judge’s face while you’re talking. But Jillian Key seemed unfazed. She wore a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses on the edge of her nose that gave her a sexy librarian look I don’t think she understood. She kept her expression neutral, those steely blue eyes cool and calculating. Just a tiny tremor near her mouth belied the anger that may have simmered beneath.

  When Jordan finally did take a pause, Judge Key let out a hard breath. “Mr. Jordan, do you recall what I asked you to do the last time you were in my courtroom?”

  Jordan smiled and shrugged. “Judge Key, I’m asking for the government’s motion to be dismissed with costs.”

  Judge Key crossed her arms in front of her. The wide sleeve of her robe slipped back, revealing her delicate wrists. Her eyes were wide and full of cold steel. She had pure white skin and high cheekbones. Her tongue darted out for just an instant as she licked her bee-stung bottom lip.

  “Mr. Jordan, did you produce your client today as I asked you to?”

  Jerry held his hands out and shook his head. “Your Honor, this is a frivolous motion aimed at harassing my client. In fact, your predecessor never would have scheduled a hearing on this. Judge Moller would have heard this just on pleadings. My client’s presence can’t possibly be required.”

  “It is if I ordered it. And I did. Would you like the transcript from last month’s hearing read back to you? I’d be happy to do that but I think my memory is pretty sharp, Mr. Jordan. I told you if you didn’t produce your client today I would hold you and him in contempt. You’re here. He’s not. You’ll find I’m good on my word, Mr. Jordan. The deputies are going to take you into custody in about five minutes. They’ll explain your rights to you. We’re adjourned.”

  With that, Judge Jillian Key banged her gavel and sent one of the most highly connected lawyer scumbags on the planet to jail. When Jordan turned, his eyes narrowed with cold, murderous intent that made my hand go to my sidearm on instinct.

  Shit. This job was going to be tougher than I thought.

  Chapter Two

  Jillian

  “Don’t say it.” I muttered it under my breath as Rhonda held the door to my chambers open for me. She shot me a grim look with one dark brow arched high. The woman was only five feet tall, but every inch was all solid, sassy, African-American power. She had a hand on her gun belt and the other one flat against the door as she pushed it open wider. She shook her head and followed me in.

  “Judge,” Rhonda said. “Not my job to tell you how to do yours. But I can’t lie. The look on Jordan’s face just now is going in my memoirs if I ever write ’em.”

  I shook my head and fumbled with the zipper on my robe.

  “You maybe want to hang on with that,” Rhonda said as I slid one arm out of the thing. Beneath it, I wore my running gear … black spandex biker shorts and a neon pink tank top over a black sports bra. It was twelve o’clock. Every day at twelve o’clock, rain or shine, I got my miles in. Six of them, looping through the University of Michigan’s main campus. Then I’d shower and change at the Rec building or in the private bathroom connected to my chambers and face the rest of my docket.

  “Rhonda.” I smiled down at her and kicked off my three-and-a-half-inch black pumps. I kept a change of socks and my running shoes in my desk drawer. “I’ve got three more 12b hearings to round out my already shitty day. I need to get some miles under my feet.”

  Rhonda sighed and put her hands on her hips. Someone was already knocking on the door behind her. That was highly unusual since it was coming from the courtroom, not the door to my offices on the other side of the hallway.

  “Just indulge me,” Rhonda said. “Zip your robe back up and slip your power pumps back on. I don’t think you noticed with all the fun going on out there, but I think the Marshals Service has sent another deputy to talk to you. He was sitting in the courtroom and I don’t have to be psychic to figure that’s him now.”

  I let out a sigh and spread my hands across the top of my desk. Things had been moved. I kept a green blotter at the center, a mug of pens in the top right corner. The afternoon’s files should be spread out in order across the blotter but they’d been moved to the side. The flower pot was wrong too. It should be in the top left corner of the desk but it was centered now. It was Tuesday. The cleaning crew came in to dust and polish the wood. I gritted my teeth and moved the plant into the right spot. The files would have to wait.

  “Judge?” Rhonda took a step toward me as the knock on the door started up again. “We’re bordering on rude not letting him in.”

  “It’s not the way I like to do things, Rhonda. He should have made an appointment. Tell him to come back tomorrow.”

  Rhonda cocked her head to the side and her smile softened. She crossed her arms in front of her and blinked at me. “I know, Judge. I know. But we can’t micromanage this one. We need to let them do their job so you can keep doing yours. Let’s just see what he has to say. Okay? You need a team, Judge. I might not be enough.”

  “What if I don’t like him?” I hated that my tone sounded almost like a pout. The others they sent had been disrespectful both to Rhonda and to me. I’d gotten the impression the Marshals Service had just been trying to humor me. It was Rhonda who had insisted we bring in more muscle and expertise. I thought she might be overreacting, but decided to trust her judgment. Her experience inside this courthouse vastly outnumbered mine.

  “Well, for now let’s keep an open mind. This one looked young, at least,” she said, shooting me a wink.

  “Great. I can’t afford to babysit another …”

  Rhonda put up her hand. “Not too young. Young like you, I mean. A big guy too. And uh … fine.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve already got a crush on him.” I teased her. A single mother of two teenage boys, Rhonda had been in a long-term relationship with Howie Dillard, a former tight end for the Lions, and currently one of their scouts. They made an adorable pair. He was a foot and a half taller than she was but standing together, Rhonda still looked fierce and formidable. Howie had been pestering her to marry him for years, but Rhonda liked her independence. I loved and trusted her like no one else in my life and I’d only known her for just over a year. I’d inherited her from my predecessor after President Vance appointed me to this seat. It had been a bold move and had angered plenty of people. But here I was trying to do the best job I could where the learning curve is steeper than anyone can tell you.

  Rhonda didn’t wait for me to tell her no again. In that, she knew me too well. If she’d given me even another beat to stall, I probably would have found a reason to duck out the other door and postpone meeting US Marshal Deputy Whatsisname.

  Then he walked in.

  My eyes went up and up along with Rhonda’s. He was huge, broad like he too could have played for the Lions. He wore a white cotton dress shirt stretched taut over his solid biceps. He carried his suit coat over his shoulder and I could have found that disrespectful, but my gaze flicked to his hands. He had long, tapered nails. He held one hand out to Rhonda and shook hers. He shot her a row of white, straight teeth. He folded his jacket over his forearm and ran his other hand through his blond hair. Not platinum like mine, but bleached golden from the sunlight. He fixed his dark blue eyes straight on me and set his jaw. With his hands on his hips now, the jacket clutched in his fist, he looked me up and down, raising the temperature of my blood. I crossed my arms in front of me and let my face harden into a neutral mask.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, his voice a warm tenor. The corners of his full mouth li
fted into a half smile revealing a deep dimple in his right cheek. “I’m from the Marshals Service. I suppose you’ve already guessed that. I’m Ray Huckman, Your Honor.”

  Ray Huckman did step forward then and extend his hand. I didn’t want to shake it. I still had my arms crossed in front of me in a sort of protective shield. I plastered on a smile and held my right hand out. Ray Huckman’s grip was strong but so was mine. His flesh warmed mine and I took a step back, sliding my arm back in front of me.

  “Jillian Key,” I said. I had the urge to tell him not to bother with titles. Just call me Jillian. But, like my arms in front of me and the potted plant on my desk in precisely the right spot, I wasn’t ready to let my armor fall away. Not even for a man who looked like Deputy US Marshal Ray Huckman. Mercy.

  “It’s good to meet you, Deputy,” I said. “I hope you haven’t wasted a trip.”

  Huckman’s face fell for just a fraction of a second. Then he plastered that infuriating half smile back in place. Oh yes, maybe not for the Lions, but our man Ray Huckman was a player. That was obvious. He was probably used to getting women to do whatever he said with just a flash of that smile and that darting wink. I’ll admit it, the man was drop-dead, knee-melting sexy. Having him around me was going to draw attention. I had a feeling Rhonda would think that might not be a bad thing. She herself had been with the Marshals Service for over twenty years. I still thought she was blowing things out of proportion. Sure, there had been a few harassing phone calls. Some of them came through to my personal line even after I’d changed it. But surely this had to come with the territory. As a judge I was always going to make at least one party very unhappy with every case before me. I was the new kid on the block here though, I couldn’t have the rest of the town and the judiciary think I was too skittish to handle it. They had enough reasons to tear me down if they really looked hard enough.

  “Well, ma’am, why don’t you let me be the judge of that.” Ray Huckman’s accent was pure Midwestern, but he delivered the line like a southern gentleman. “I’m sorry I didn’t call to tell you I was on my way. But I’ll be honest, I kind of wanted to see you in action before we met.”

  I nodded. “You wanted to see how I conduct myself. So, have you formed an opinion already?” I stepped around my desk and sat on the edge of it. I crossed my legs in front of me and kept Ray’s gaze. The robe helped keep my armor in place and I mentally thanked Rhonda for making me keep it on. Huckman’s smile widened just a touch, then he let out a laugh that sent a flash of heat zinging through me.

  “Well, ma’am, I’ll say you definitely got my attention. I’m still trying to decide whether what I just witnessed out there was real. You just sent Jerry Jordan to jail?”

  Rhonda snorted and quickly tried to cover her mouth. I gave her a hard stare then turned my attention back to Huckman. “He had it coming,” I said. “I don’t care who he is or who he works for. If he’s going to come into my courtroom, he’s going to follow my rules. Besides, they’ll probably kick him in an hour or two.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Huckman said, eyes twinkling. “You definitely made your point though. But all levity aside, one of the first things I’m going to need from you is an enemies list. Like it or not, Jerry Jordan is on it now. Probably his client too. And I need you to fill me in on what’s been happening.” His last request was directed more at Rhonda. I saw her eyes dart to the side and it made my heart trip.

  “Rhonda doesn’t keep secrets from me nor I her,” I said. “She provides security, but I also consider her to be a close personal friend. She should be included in every discussion we have.”

  Huckman nodded. “Of course. I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes. Deputy Powell and I work for the same team.”

  Rhonda pulled up a chair and offered one to Huckman. I stayed perched on the edge of my desk. “Haven’t they sent you a file, Deputy Huckman?” Rhonda asked. “Everything we’ve received has been sent on.”

  Huckman nodded. “I’ve just started looking through it. But I wanted to get your thoughts first. And it’s Huck. That’s what most people call me. Only my mother called me Ray and she passed away when I was seven.”

  “Huck,” Rhonda said, whistling low. “I gotta say it kind of suits you. Well, only if you call me Rhonda. And she’s Judge or Your Honor.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but got a hard glare from Rhonda. She was particular about that sign of respect. I’d learned her advice and reading of any room were spot on and invaluable. I was still new here and everything I did needed to command respect.

  “There have been some strange phone calls,” I said, tucking a loose strand of hair back into my bun. “A few here at the courthouse and a few to my personal cell. We changed the number but the calls kept coming. I’ve turned those phones over to your forensics people. I don’t think they’ve come up with anything. As far as an enemies list, well, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not the best person to gauge that. I think I’m as fair as I can be out there, but you can’t keep everyone happy.”

  “Judge Key?” Gemma Sanders, my secretary, peeked in through the outer door. Gemma was cute, tiny, and in her first year of law school at U of M.

  “Oh, Gemma. I’m sorry. It’s lunchtime. Go ahead and take an hour. My docket is free until two.” Gemma smiled and pushed her shoulder in through the door. She clutched a stack of mail to her chest. Her eyes flashed to Huck then widened. He stood and extended a gentlemanly hand to hers. Gemma downright giggled when she took it and dropped three pieces of mail. Huck bent down to retrieve it.

  Shit. He was smooth. Or rather, Gemma was. A hint of a blush colored her cheeks as she met him in a crouch near the floor as they both went for the fallen mail. I shot a look to Rhonda. She rolled her eyes. Gemma was a sweet kid and competent, but she was always on the make. I couldn’t keep track of the number of boyfriends she’d burned through just since I got here. Although she assured me the current one was different than all the rest. Poor sucker. My guess, she’d seen Huck out in the courtroom like Rhonda had and didn’t want to miss her chance for an introduction.

  “I’m Deputy Marshal Huckman,” he told her in that strong tenor that seemed to vibrate down my spine. “Call me Huck, though.”

  “Deputy Hunk … er … oh God… Huck.” Gemma at least had the decency to look mortified.

  “Just put it on the desk, Gemma,” Rhonda said; hell, she nearly snarled it. Gemma let out a tiny squeal and dropped the mail next to me. I resisted the urge to pick it up and square all the corners. Instead, I tapped my fingertips on the stack and waited for Gemma to make her clumsy exit. I shot a look toward Rhonda. She nodded in understanding. One of us would have to have a talk with Gemma to keep things professional while Deputy Hunk … er … Huck was around. And if Huck couldn’t be trusted around Gemma, I’d have him out on his ass faster than Jerry Jordan.

  I gave Huck a shrug and a smile and rifled through the mail. Two of them looked like they’d come from prisoners. Gemma was slipping. She should know better than to send those back to me. There would be nothing I could do and if these were from litigants in any of my active cases I wasn’t even allowed to read them without copies going to the opposing side. The third was addressed from court administration. Huck and Rhonda started talking about their experiences with the Marshals Service and then my daily schedule while I grabbed the jeweled letter opener I kept at the edge of my desk blotter and slid it beneath the envelope seal.

  “The judge usually takes a run around campus during her lunch recess,” Rhonda said.

  Huck nodded. “We might need to talk about changing that up or having me go with you, Judge,” he said and the cold fingers of dread snaked up my spine. My afternoon run was my salvation. The routine of it kept me sane on days like today when I had the Jerry Jordans of the world trying to drag me down.

  “It’s not a good idea for you to keep doing anything that’s part of a set routine. If someone is watching you, that could be dangerous. I’ll do my best to help you figure out a way to d
eal with this without disrupting your life more than we have to, but your safety has to come first.”

  “Of course,” Rhonda answered for me. I knew what she was doing. For whatever reason, she wanted this particular marshal around. I couldn’t wait to get her alone to ask her what gives. What’s so special about this guy other than he was easy on the eyes and just managed to set my secretary’s ovaries into orbit?

  I peeled open the envelope and slid out the one-page letter expecting to see another docket reassignment from the Chief Judge. As the judge with the least seniority at the moment, I was used to being on the receiving end of some dumping.

  “Judge!” Huck’s voice lost all charm and his hand closed around my wrist. We saw it at the same time. Though the outer envelope bore an internal court address, the letter inside was anything but routine. Scrawled in crooked black letters were the words, “DIE BITCH.”

  I dropped the letter but it was already too late. A puff of white powder hung in the air and spread all over my hands. Then it settled down the front of my black robe like a cloud.

  Chapter Three

  Huck

  Judge Jillian Key was an ice queen. As fine white powder wafted around her like falling snow she gave me one cold look and set her jaw in a hard line. She did not shriek. She did not panic. She stayed very still and locked her eyes with mine.

  “Stay put,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral so as not to scare her. “Chances are it’s just flour or talcum powder but we’re not going to take any chances. Rhonda, that trash bin looks empty. Can you take the plastic bag out of it?”

  “Got it.” Rhonda moved quickly. She knew what I was about. She pulled out the black plastic bag, and split it down the seam, doubling the area it would cover.

  “Now, Judge? Slip out of those shoes and peel your robe off as carefully as you can to keep that stuff from spreading any more. Did you breathe any of it in?”