The Association – Book 4

 

Chapter 1

 

Lieutenant Ryder Wayne stood in front of his captain’s desk.  He’d been a cop for twenty-plus years and had never faced such a quandary in his career—no, his entire life. The heat coming from the legal document in his hand felt like he was holding the burning end of a lit torch. 

“You actually expect me to do this?”

Paul Clark took off his gold-rimmed glasses and carelessly tossed them on his desk. “How do you think I felt when I got a call from the prosecutor asking me to handle an extremely delicate situation that involved your girlfriend?  He’s afraid of a media blitz and wants to keep it in-house as much as possible.” 

Ryder gripped the triple-folded piece of paper and pointedly thrust it in his captain’s face. “This is complete bullshit!”

“You think I don’t know that? But we have to follow through on procedure, or we’ll be brought up on charges.”

“This is going to destroy her and everything she’s worked for.”  Ryder almost choked on his own words.

“Your choice. I thought it would be better coming from you, because she’s going to need a lot of consoling. I could always send one of the young, rookie cops.”

“I’d like to call you a piece of shit, but I can’t because you’re my superior.”

  Captain Clark glanced at the time on his watch. “I deliberately waited until after the court offices closed so we don’t have a judge to hold a preliminary hearing. She’s officially in your custody and has to be in court Monday morning, nine a.m. Make sure she has a couple of good defense attorneys, if you get my meaning.”

“That won’t be a problem.  I’ll deliver this piece of garbage, and then I’m off this weekend.  Don’t worry, she’ll be in my custody the entire time.”  

He turned around to leave the office, but stopped when his boss called his name. “Ryder, you didn’t hear this from your captain but a good friend. Inside, you’re furious and you want to rip a few new assholes, but don’t.  There is so much more at stake. I want your promise that you won’t go off half-cocked and seek revenge by yourself.  We’re getting close, so keep that in mind. Console your lady, because she’s going to need your strength and support. The media are going to have a field day. As your friend, I’m suggesting you make her unavailable.”

Ryder nodded, understanding his hidden meaning. “Thanks, Paul. We’ll be going to my grandfather’s cabin.  Keep it to yourself, but I’ll also let The Association know where we’ll be.”

“I’ll call my wife at the restaurant. The Plumb Beach will be buzzing with the news. Hannah is aware of what’s going on and will keep her ears open.  She’ll also be the first one to defend Jillianne.”

“Tell her we both said thanks.”

Ryder shoved the offensive piece of paper into his back pocket and walked past the closed doors of the court offices. That much was in her favor, he decided, and took his time going down the wide metal stairs to the first floor of police headquarters. His office was sandwiched between the one dedicated to the shift sergeant and the larger one used by the detectives.  The hustle and bustle of a big modern department was missing, but there were very few dull moments.  For a late Friday afternoon, it was relatively quiet, but he avoided the dispatch area, where he’d be drawn into a time-consuming conversation.

He debated contacting her best friends directly to let them know what was about to go down, but decided to wait. They’d hear about it from their husbands. The six of them would be livid.  Once the news got out, it was going to cause a small riot throughout the seashore community. Jillianne was loved by everyone, but when it came to someone messing with other people’s finances, they could turn on her like a vicious cat.

Grumbling snores greeted him when he walked into his office.  Watson had a dog bed from LL Bean with his name embroidered on the soft cover, but preferred to sleep on the old brown leather couch that came with the office Ryder had been occupying for five years.  The German shepherd was considered the station’s mascot.  Trained in drug and corpse detection, Watson seemed to consider himself human.  The other problem was he liked to smell the flowers and run after squirrels and would work only for steak, hamburger and homemade dog cookies.  He could tell the difference.

The reports on Ryder’s desk that needed his signature weren’t going anyplace, and he shut down his computer.  For the first time since he was a teenager, he wished he wasn’t a cop.  He reached for his black leather jacket that hung on an old clothes tree, a gift from his dad when Dexter retired as head of the detective bureau.  “Let’s go, sleeping beauty.  We’re going to see your girlfriend.”

A head covered in deep gold fur jerked up, instantly leaving doggie dreamland. Ryder swore the dog smiled at the mention of Jillianne. “Be extra nice, because we have to do something very unpleasant. It’s going to hurt.”

Watson’s long sleek back stiffened, and his grin turned into a menacing growl. 

“No. I’m not going to do bodily harm, jug head.  Let’s go. You’re a cop, act like one.”

Jillianne was anal about keeping a strict schedule and could be found working at her desk at the Footlight Theater on Friday afternoons.  Lately, all she did was work. She’d put her friendships on the back burner ever since she’d taken on the Burrows real estate account for her CPA firm. 

His temper vibrated with barely controlled fury.  She’d just been stabbed in the back. His cop sense saw it coming a few months ago, but there had been no way to warn her without any proof.  They were using her as an example to punish him.

To his unending frustration, their lives were controlled by her schedule and his shift work, but they had a standing dinner date two times a month. Then he’d take her home and they’d have what they jokingly called “reminiscent sex.” Three times during the year they’d enjoy a week’s vacation together, and they worked in occasional weekends for some much-needed alone time. They’d been best friends and lovers since high school.  Jillianne was his first and only love.

Ten minutes later, he parked his motorcycle in the employee parking lot behind the theater.  Watson knew enough to wait until Ryder removed his specially made dog goggles and the strap harness before trying to hop out of the sidecar.  With the cool temperatures moving in, this would be one of the last few days he could use his motorcycle.

It was after five, so the lot was empty but for a champagne-colored Lexus. Jillianne Bennett was independently wealthy from inheritance and hard work. Her vanity license plate read JILLY.  Only one person was allowed to use her nickname. 

Since he was on the board of directors and oversaw security, he had a key to the administrative entrance and was familiar with the security code. Watson's nails tapping against the wooden steps filled the lighted stairwell to the second-floor administration area.  The other offices were closed for the day, and he headed for the only one with a light showing through the top of the frosted pane.  The gold lettering read, Jillianne Bennett, Endowment Curator and Director of Funds. With each step, dread hung on him like a death shroud.  He didn’t need a sword to know he was about to cut her to pieces.

He tapped lightly on the oak doorframe, but didn’t wait for permission to enter.  The moment he pushed open the door, Watson rushed in, offering up a happy bark.  Jillianne’s head of reddish-gold hair shot up, and she looked away from her laptop that occupied the center of her neat desk. She’d recently added lighter blond highlights to the sweeping length that brushed the underside of her chin. She had a beautiful smile, considering what her family had paid for her perfect white teeth.  In high school, he used to throw her retainers away on purpose. 

It was the end of the normal workday, but she was still perfectly groomed in silk and pearls.  She was the only person he knew who actually lifted her pinky when she drank a cup of tea.  It no longer bothered him that she felt she had to reapply lipstick and check her makeup after they finished dinner. His uptown girl was the perfect lady, and he enjoyed watching her walk into a room and immediately command attention. The public and her employees saw her as the ultimate professional woman.

His adolescent heart had gotten slammed the first time he saw her, standing in the guidance counselor’s office.  Jilly’s family had just moved to Beacon Pointe, and she was starting eleventh grade in her first public school. She was wearing a demure white cashmere sweater with a pink and light blue plaid skirt that brushed her knees, white knee socks and these girlie pink ankle boots.  A single pearl suspended on a real gold chain adorned the front of the sweater.  He eventually found out her grandmother had insisted a lady wasn’t fully dressed without her pearls.  His boots were black with silver chains, and he was wearing a worn leather motorcycle jacket.  She was Ms. Prim and Proper versus his rebel without a cause, her good to his bad.  It was the start of a beautiful, loving friendship.

He was one of the few who knew the real Jillianne Bennett. More important, he knew her better than she knew herself—the unselfish side that would do anything to help her friends; the strong, inner person who fought for the underdog; the side that anonymously supported charities that focused on children; the take-a-chance, laugh-at-herself side. 

The cop side of him was prepared to handle the kaleidoscope of emotional stages she would go through, but as the man who loved her, he was wavering on innate turmoil. 

“Hi,” she greeted and removed her reading glasses and set them on her neat desk.  A faint blush of sky-blue eyeshadow called attention to her pretty hazel eyes. “Tell me we didn’t have a date tonight. Not that I wouldn’t love to spend the evening with my guy, no, both my guys.”  She laughed when Watson hopped up and put two large paws on her desk so he could give her a tongue-lapping kiss on her cheek. “You’re the only one I’ll let get away with that, considering I’m a neat-freak prude.” She pulled open her bottom drawer and took out a Ziploc container of special dog cookies she kept just for him.  “Here, my sweet love.”

Watson accepted the treat and gobbled the cookie in a couple of bites.  The look he gave Ryder when he sat on the floor and leaned against Jillian’s hip said, I’ll protect her.

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Jillianne asked, running a hand with perfectly manicured fingernails over the top of Watson’s head.  “You know I hate that you’re a cop, but I love my guy in uniform.”

He was being torn apart. One side wanted to take her into his arms, but the professional side won the battle. He kept the desk between them.  Do it. Get it over with. 

“Jilly, love, I’d give all that I own, no, my life, not to have to do this, but I don’t have a choice.” Ryder pulled the paper out of the pocket of his uniform trousers and placed it next to her laptop. 

She picked it up, and her smile faded before her mouth dropped open. Her fiery-hot eyes shot to his.  Phase one: questioning disbelief.

“What the hell is this?” she challenged.

“It’s a warrant for your arrest.  You’re being charged with embezzlement of a hundred thousand dollars from the Burrows Real Estate Organization.”

“Ryder, I know I’ve been working a lot lately, but this is a sick joke!”

“I wish I could say April Fool’s, but wrong month.”

“You’re serious?”

The hitch in her voice said she still didn’t believe him.  “I’m deadly serious.”

Jillianne shoved up from her seat, making the chair roll toward the window behind her. “You’re saying Cornelius Burrows initiated these charges against me?”

Ryder only nodded and prepared for phase two: outrage

“That conceited, ego-driven son of a bitch!  Embezzlement?  In a pig’s eye!  Two of my top-notch accountants and I have worked our asses off the past six months to straighten out his financial mess that we tracked back to over thirty years ago. I’ve a meeting with him next week to show him the details of numerous discrepancies that I’ve brought to his attention.”

Ryder momentarily closed his eyes, comprehending what Jillianne had just revealed.  She had access to the accounts he and The Association needed to help prove their case the two generations of Burrows and Magellan’s were up to no good. That also posed another problem. She was being charged with embezzlement and would no longer have access to the records.  First thing they had to do was clear her name.

“What was his reaction when you spoke to him about the discrepancies?”

“Cornelius said I’d probably made a mistake, but would be glad to speak to me.”

“Inferring you made a mistake was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”  Jillianne never made mistakes when it came to her business and personally stood by her work.  What Burrows was doing to her made too much sense.  Burrows knew The Association was getting close in their investigation, and he couldn’t take the chance that she’d help her friends.  That was Burrows’ plan all along.  Let her straighten out his financial accounts and then damage her reputation and credibility.

Jillianne moved to her desk and reached for her phone. “I’m going to call that back-stabbing shit right now!”

Ryder quickly put his hand over the device.  “Wrong move, Jilly.  I’m sure he’s expecting you to call, but the only call you’re going to make is to your lawyers.”

“But…”

Watson woofed when Ryder’s phone gave off three short barks that sounded only when one of The Association was trying to reach him. The text was from Mason. 911. Call me right away re Jillianne’s arrest.

“This isn’t good. Mason wants me to call him. Word about the warrant for your arrest has already gotten out.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous!  I haven’t done anything!”

He turned his hand over and gave hers a gentle squeeze.  Phase three: personal defense in the face of cold, hard reality.

“Let me call him.”  The phone barely rang before Mason answered.

“Put it on speakerphone!” Jillianne hurriedly demanded.

“What the hell is going on?  Fred got a call from Liam Thompson’s wife asking about Jillianne stealing from her clients and helping herself to Cornelius Burrows’ money.”

“I’m with Jillianne right now, and you’re on speakerphone. He’s accusing her of embezzlement of funds from his real estate corporation.”

“That’s a crock of horseshit!  She wouldn’t steal a penny from a blind person!”

“Thank you, Mason,” Jillianne called out.

“I’m sure the masses will agree. I was given the unpleasant duty to serve her with the warrant for her arrest.  She has to be in court Monday morning at nine, with counsel.”

“Arrest! Burrows is out to ruin her, just like he tried to do to my wife.”

“That entire scenario still bothers me,” Jillianne added.  “I don’t know why he wanted to destroy Mollie’s restaurant.”

Ryder concentrated on running his hand over Watson’s head.  Bite your tongue.  This isn’t the time to tell her what’s going on.  We need to save her reputation first.

“Jillianne, I can get something out on the weekend edition,” Mason said, “a personal message from you.  I don’t mean to scare you, but the cold hard reality is, people and their money don’t want to be separated, even if these charges aren’t true.”

“Mason, you’re one of the few people who knows how important it is for me to keep my reputation spotlessly clean.  I’ve been running my business for twenty-four years and have never been questioned, about anything.”

“I agree with you, but people panic and react without thinking,” Mason said.

Jillianne reached for the string of pearls around her neck and gave them a nervous tug. “If I put out a note, I’m practically admitting I’m guilty.”

Her voice wasn’t quite steady.  Phase four: apprehension and acceptance.

Ryder needed to join the conversation. “Jilly, by keeping quiet, people will wonder if you have something to hide.”

“So I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.  Okay, put out a message from me apologizing for the unpleasant situation.  It’s all a big misunderstanding, and their accounts are secure.  It will be business as usual. They can contact the office, and we’ll provide a full accounting of their financial records.”

“That will work,” Mason said. “I’ll also let the others know what’s happening. My suggestion is get out of Dodge for the weekend.  Knowing that conniving asshole, he’s going to start turning the tide in his favor, especially with the media.  That doesn’t mean they won’t start harassing Jillianne to get her side.”

“Paul gave me the same advice.  We’re heading for my grandfather’s place and will be back Sunday.  The cell service is spotty, but I’ll try to check in to find out what’s happening.  Thanks, Mason.”

Ryder shoved his phone into his pocket, and the extra pair of handcuffs he always carried fell out onto the floor.  He picked them up, but didn’t immediately put them away. “We need to leave, right now.”

“My God!”  Jillianne stepped back and put the dog between them. “You’re actually arresting me.” She held out her arms and pressed the insides of her wrists together. “I’m a hardened criminal! Better put the cuffs on me.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he teased, “but no, you heard what Mason said.  I need to get you out of town because people know where you work and live. You’re officially in my custody, and I have to make sure you’re in court Monday morning. Grab your coat and purse.”

“This whole thing is insane,” she muttered, shutting down her laptop.  She put it away in her Vera Bradley computer bag, but he crossed to the desk and put a hand on the zipper.

“Do you have any of Burrows’ accounts on your laptop?”

“Of course.  I can retrieve his records from his central accounting program.”

Once again, he was being torn between doing his job and getting the information they needed to help The Association. “I’m sorry, Jilly. I can’t allow you to access his information since he’s the one who made the accusations against you.”

“I figured that much, but it’s my personal laptop.”

“Sorry. I’m going to have to impound the device.  I’ll store it in a safe place until we report to police headquarters Monday morning. The two accountants at your CPA firm who worked on his business records are also banned.”

“If I know Burrows, he’s already had his techs change the passwords. He’s going to need a shady accounting firm to go in and adjust the records to reflect the money I embezzled.”

“He’s probably had that done without your knowledge. His lawyers are going to have to produce the figures for the court.” 

“That won’t be good enough. I’m going to demand an independent accounting firm review those accounts.” A cunning gleam filled her hazel eyes. “That horny deviant thinks he’s dealing with a stupid woman. Well, I’m one step ahead of him.”

“Stop!” Ryder shot his hand up like he was stopping traffic. “Horny?  He made a play for you?”

Watson sensed a threat and barked an alert.

Jillianne gave the dog an affectionate pat on the head. “Both of you back down. It didn’t take but a few minutes in his company for me to recognize he’s a dirty old man. He charges his hooker fees and Viagra to his business entertainment account.”

“That’s another reason my fist is going to meet with his ugly face.” Ryder grabbed the case that contained her computer and opened the door. “Let’s get going.  We need to pick up my truck, and then we have a forty-minute drive to my grandfather’s cabin.  The media and bloodhounds won’t be able to get to you there.”

“How did you get here?  Don’t tell me you drove your motorcycle.  It’s November.”

Ryder shrugged his shoulders. “When we left the house this morning, Watson hopped into the sidecar, plus the weather cooperated.”

“I need to let my housekeeper and brother know what’s happening and get some clothes.”

“We don’t have time to stop at your house. You can call Winifred and Neil on the way. After that, you won’t be able to get a signal.  I’ll loan you some of my clothes.”

They were headed down the stairs when she abruptly stopped.  Watson had already reached the bottom and stared up at them as if to say, Let’s get going. You’re wasting time.

“I’m wearing nine-hundred-dollar wool blended trousers and an Adalyn silk blouse.” She lifted her leg to show him her Burberry block-heeled boots. “These babies were not meant to be worn on a motorcycle. Where am I supposed to sit?”

“Behind me, where you usually sit. I’ve got your helmet and leather jacket in the storage pouch on Watson’s sidecar.  What more do you need?” he asked with a laugh. “You’re wearing pearls.”  

“Funny, Sherlock. What about my car?”

“I’m going to have it towed to the impound yard.”

“My white Lexus? Are you crazy?  That car is registered to me personally, not my business!”

“I know that, but there’s a method to my madness. It’s going to get back to Burrows that you were arrested and your car impounded.  He’ll enjoy the small thrill thinking his plan is working, ruining you and destroying your reputation.”

A watery film covered her eyes and her chin quivered slightly, announcing she was slipping into phase five: giving up. 

Ryder cupped her chin to keep his eyes steady on hers.  “Jilly, love, he’s playing a game, and we need him to think he’s winning, but we’ll be laughing behind his back, all of us, The Association and the Fabulous Four and the rest of your friends. I’ve never lied to you.  Do you believe I’m a man of my word?”

Jillianne focused her gaze on him and nodded.

“I swear this will turn out okay and that bastard will be holding hands with the devil.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Jillianne reluctantly followed her handsome jailer and his four-legged sidekick.  Watson hopped up into the sidecar and patiently waited for Ryder to fasten the safety harness and adjust the strap on his doggie goggles.

He’d parked next to her Lexus, and she gazed longingly at the comfort she was forgoing. A brisk November wind snapped at her cheeks and penetrated her thin cashmere jacket.  She shivered and swaddled her arms around her waist.

A scattering of dead leaves scratched against the surface of the parking lot, and her eyes were drawn to the barren tree limbs. Two weeks ago, the mighty limbs bore leaves of red, gold and rust.  It was the perfect reflection of her day that had started out beautifully and turned ugly. Her arms tightened around her waist, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it together. 

Before getting on the motorcycle, she put the black biker’s helmet on, crushing the perfectly styled layers Missi, her expert stylist, had just refreshed. As soon as she zipped up the black leather jacket, she felt blessedly warmer.  If the teetotalers from the country club could see me now.  Ryder had given her the custom-made jacket and matching leather pants two years ago for Christmas.  She’d surprised him with two Bluetooth-equipped helmets that synchronized with the Bluetooth and GPS system on his bike.  It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy riding a motorcycle.  She loved the free-spirit experience and clinging to her love, but at the appropriate place and time. She had a reputation to uphold and maintain.  Jillianne, right now your reputation isn’t worth a plug nickel.

“Your turn,” Ryder invited before glancing own at her feet. “At least you’re wearing boots.”

He grinned at his own joke, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she sensed his heart wasn’t in the trying-to-be-funny remark that was meant to cheer her up.  The phrase opposites attract fit them perfectly.  She took life too seriously.  He did, too, because of his job, but Ryder had the unique ability to make her laugh, more so at herself, and pull out the side that only her best friends enjoyed.  With them, she didn’t have to be any of the three P’s that had been drilled into her head since she was a child: perfect, prim, proper.

“Funny, Sherlock. Where’s my laptop?”

“Secured in the sidecar with your four-legged bodyguard.”

Watson woofed in confirmation, and she cupped his strong jaw. “I can always depend on you to take care of me. The next time you see Cornelius Burrows, you have my permission to bite him on the ass.”

Ryder lifted the face-protecting visor on his helmet.  “That’s after I’ve beaten the living shit out of him.”

Jillianne was surprised at his vicious statement. Her cop was generally cool, calm and collected, and it took a lot to set him off. “I appreciate that you want to be my knight in shining armor, but I’d never expect you to jeopardize your career and a job that you love.  It’s also not your style. You have the unique skills of a negotiator.”

“Let’s just say this is a unique situation and leave it at that.  We better get going. The sun is almost down, and there aren’t any streetlights where we’re heading once we leave my house.”

Jillianne made herself comfortable behind him and adjusted the padding on the helmet that protected her chin.  “Could you take the back streets?” His chuckle came through the speakers in the helmet.

“Why?  Don’t want anyone to know you’re a sexy biker babe who wears black lace bikinis under her leather trousers?” he teased. “No one can see your face.”

“Right, and no one will recognize Watson riding in the sidecar of a motorcycle wearing WWII flying goggles and helmet. Please? I’ll make you breakfast in bed.”

“You couldn’t find your way around a kitchen with a compass.”

“You don’t have to be such a smartass. Please, don’t make me beg.”

“Jilly, whining isn’t very becoming. Hold on tight, love.”

The helmet muffled the sound of the powerful engine when he drove out of the parking lot, and she sighed with relief when they pulled out onto the almost empty Main Street in front of the theater.  In another hour, theatergoers would be arriving to attend the sold-out performance of A Christmas Carol. 

Ryder was true to his word and made his way down quiet side streets of well-maintained older homes with a Victorian influence.  A squirrel cut in front of the bike, and Watson barked up a storm.  Her cell vibrated in her pocket. Normally, she’d accept the call because she’d connected her phone to her helmet, but she really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. A dog barking, cell phone ringing, ignoring a call—all were normal, everyday things, but life as she’d known it when she’d gotten up this morning had changed forever. Memories that she’d buried from long ago threatened to come back to life, but she slammed the door in her mind to keep them at bay.  Concentrate on the present, she told herself. What had she done to Burrows that he would turn on her and want to destroy everything she’d worked hard to achieve?

“You’re awfully quiet back there, Jilly.”

His smooth, comforting voice came through the speakers in the helmet. “Just thinking about Burrows and why he wants to destroy me.”

“Like I said before, he won’t get away with it. We should be at my dad’s house in a couple of minutes.”

“It still boggles my mind that you’re fifty years old and still live in the same house you grew up in.”

“You know when I ended my tour in the Marines, my mom took sick and my dad couldn’t handle things alone.  He was like a lost soul when she passed away, so I never moved out.”

“That was twenty years ago.”

“We give each other space and don’t interfere with each other’s lives.  Hell, my father has more of a sex life than I do.”

“I’ll take that as a personal dig because I’m the only one you have sex with, but our lives are determined by our jobs.”  Jillianne tensed, waiting for him to say, You don’t have one right now.  But all was silent.

“I hope your dad doesn’t think I’m guilty and will want to help convict another member of the family.” She hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic, but that, too, was something she had to worry about.  She was no longer a teenager who had to live through an embarrassing scandal, but was now an adult who’d been thrust into another scandal not of her making.

“You’re not being fair, and he’s the last person to think you’re guilty. If he ever heard you say that, he’d be very upset.  He had a job to do, just like me. He felt sorry for you as a teenager and regretted the embarrassment reflected on your family.  He was a cop and will want to help clear your name.”

“Isn’t it funny how history is repeating itself?”

“Jillianne, now you’re being maudlin.  Unless you decide to start wearing a funny red nose, nothing is comical about the current situation.”

“Sorry.  I’m not thinking clearly.”

Five minutes later, Watson barked, announcing their arrival to the entire neighborhood made up of Cape Cod homes with grayish blue weathered siding. Here, too, the trees were bare, and the flower gardens that dominated the front of the Wayne residence were already sleeping.  Dexter’s hobby was woodworking, and spotlights shone on two life-size Thanksgiving turkeys that he’d staked on either side of the front walk.  One held a sign that read, Happy Thanksgiving. The other read, Eat Ham. 

Sensor lights on the corner of the house came on when Ryder pulled down the driveway that led to a three-car garage. He pushed a button on the handlebars, and one of the three doors opened up.  Additional lights came on when he pulled in and shut down the motorcycle beside a black Ford F-350 with an extended cab and cap.

While she removed her own helmet, he took care of Watson. The moment the dog was free, he jumped out of the seat and headed for the doggie flap built into the back door of the house.

Jillianne twisted her hands together. “Maybe I should wait out here.”

Ryder stored their helmets in the pouches built into the rear storage section of the sidecar and retrieved her laptop and cupped it under his arm. “I’ve never known you to be a coward. Plus, you’re being ridiculous.” He took her hand in a firm grip. “We have a forty-minute ride from here, and you’ll want to hit the powder room.  You can also make your phone calls.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand that still had hers in a firm hold. “You seem to be the one thinking clearly.”

Ryder opened the back door that led directly into the small country kitchen, and she hesitated before stepping inside.  His father wasn’t alone. Dexter and Polly, his girlfriend, were in a full-body clench, sharing a serious lip-lock.  Both were in their early seventies and had let their full heads of hair turn a natural white.  He was a good eight inches taller, but their height difference didn’t hinder showing their affection.

Ryder purposely slammed the back door, making the short frilly curtain fly out.  “You two should get a room.”  

They jumped apart, and a blush covered Polly’s cheeks that she’d coated with a pale pink blush.  The kiss had eaten away at her deep pink lipstick.  Jillianne folded in her lips to hold back a smile.  The rest of the lipstick was on Dexter Wayne’s mouth. 

He must have been making something in his woodworking shop, because he was still wearing his work apron over his trousers and green T-shirt.  Polly was on the curvy side, and her head came to the top of his shoulders.  She followed the popular trend to wear colorful leggings with a print tunic.  

“Oh, sweetie, this is so terrible!” Polly rushed over to Jillianne and threw her arms around her shoulders. “I was so upset when I got that damn paperwork this morning, and I couldn’t wait till I got out of there.  Dexter picked me up.”

Jillianne stepped back before her eyes shifted to Ryder’s father. She’d been so silly thinking he might believe she’d done something wrong.  His eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding.  His lips tightened in a small smile, and he opened his arms.  It was the invitation she was hoping for, and she let his long arms pull her in for a comforting embrace.

“We’re going to make this right,” he whispered in her ear.

She lifted her forehead from his shoulder.  Fierce pride had her swallowing back the tears that had begun to gather as soon as Ryder told her she was under arrest. “Thanks, Pop Wayne.  We’re going to need the help from the Almighty to prove I’m innocent.”

Polly ran a soothing hand up and down Jillianne’s back. “Come on, sweetie. You have to eat. I made a pot of chicken soup, and the biscuits just came out of the oven.”

Jillianne offered a tense smile to the caring couple. Eating was the last thing she wanted to do.  She looked around the kitchen that had been built in the sixties and had been gently cared for. Watson was slurping water from a silver water bowl. “Where did Ryder go?” 

“He went upstairs to get out of his uniform before you left for Pop’s house.  He also mentioned he wanted to put your laptop away,” Dexter offered.

“I’ve got to call my brother, housekeeper and my lawyers before we leave, because the cell reception out there is spotty to none.”

“I’m sure you’d like some privacy.  Go in the den,” Polly suggested. “You know the way.”

The wood-paneled room shouted men only. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall above the fireplace mantel.  Two recliners were strategically placed to get the best view.  Occupying the table between the two chairs were Ryder’s handcrafted pipes in the mahogany and walnut pipe stand she’d given him for his birthday a few years ago.

They’d added a three-seater couch against the outside wall to accommodate guests. A magazine rack was overflowing with dog-eared copies of magazines on wildlife and woodcrafts. The four-legged member of the family hadn’t been left out. An oversize dog bed occupied the slate floor in front of the hearth.  Ryder must have recently smoked one of his pipes, because she caught the pleasant scent of cherrywood.

She walked over to the side-by-side glass curios that displayed a variety of trophies and framed awards from Ryder’s growing-up years.  The award he won in the fourth grade always brought a smile to her face.  First place in Pie-Eating Contest.  She was stalling. The words I’ve been arrested for embezzlement stuck in her throat.

She retrieved her phone from the pocket of her trousers, turned it on, and the incoming texts sounded like one continuous ring. Thirty in less than an hour.  She sat on the edge of the recliner to review the messages.  The Fabulous Four were outraged and were there if she needed anything.  Calling her lawyers wouldn’t be necessary. Kaitlyn Griffin had let her parents know what was happening with Jillianne. Sean and Nancy Harrigan were in Florida but would be home Sunday morning. She wasn’t to speak to anyone, and they’d be at her home Sunday night at six.  If she needed anything, she was to call. Kaitlyn was available to Jillianne if she had any problems.

Before calling her brother, she sent a group text to her friends letting them they would be going to his grandfather’s cabin.  It hurt to read the messages she received from irate customers demanding to know whether the allegations were true.  So much for thinking they’d believe in her integrity and ignore the false accusation.

Now Neil.  What would she say to the man who’d become her stepbrother when her socialite mother had given up on the idea that love didn’t exist and found a man who made her genuinely happy?  No way was she contacting her mother and stepfather, who were currently on a cruise down the Rhine river as part of a three-month tour of Europe celebrating their ten-year wedding anniversary. 

Neil was her family, even if there weren’t any blood ties.  As the lighting and sound manager for the theater, she saw him when she worked at her office in the theater and spoke to him a few times a week. She looked upon his daughter, Paige, as her niece.

He was number two on her speed dial.  Ryder was number one.  Neil answered on the first ring.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded before she could open her mouth. “Are you okay?  I tried to call you, but it went straight to message.”

“I turned my phone off.  Ryder is taking good care of me, and we’re going to his grandfather’s house in the Pinelands. How did you find out so quickly?”

“Liam Thompson’s wife and her niece were waiting to have their hair done at Beauty Works and didn’t care who heard them say you were arrested for embezzling money from Cornelius Burrows Real Estate. Missi heard their conversation, and your favorite beautician went ballistic. She asked them to leave and politely announced that if anyone helped spread that vicious rumor, they were no longer welcome at her salon. She called her mother, Diane, who works for Mollie, and the word spread like wildfire. Your office manager called me when he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“Jeez, and I was only arrested a little over an hour ago.”

“There’s more. Matilda Hennypenny is the head usher for the theater guild this evening and already set up a phone chain to debunk the rumor. Your friends have your back.  What I can’t understand is how Mrs. Thompson found out before you were arrested.  Someone is deliberately spreading rumors to discredit you.”

“It has to be that snake Burrows.”

A wave of misery was sucking her down in its undertow, and right now she didn’t know how to save herself.  “Promise me you won’t contact our parents. They’ve been looking forward to this trip for years. Plus, this is all a big misunderstanding.  Please tell me you don’t believe I’m guilty.”

“Jillianne, I don’t know of another person who is as honest as you are. I, too, have your back. Paige is doing the show tonight, and I came over to be with Winnie.  Your housekeeper hasn’t stopped crying. You know what happens when she gets upset.  She starts cooking and baking. I convinced her to take two Advil and lay down. Oh, and there’s a news van from the local cable station parked outside your house. I hardly got out of my car and was practically jumped. I hesitate calling the police, because it will only draw a crowd.”

“Trent Media is at my house? That’s Mason’s father’s company.” Jillianne paused when a strong arm came around her waist and Ryder settled a soft, healing kiss on her forehead.

“Let me make a couple phone calls,” Ryder said softly in her other ear and headed for the kitchen.

“Seems like you and the others have things well in hand,” Jillianne said to Neil.  “You and Paige have to work the lights and sound for the shows this weekend, but I prefer Winnie not be alone. I’m afraid she might go out there and beat the reporters with one of her cast-iron frying pans. She’s close friends with Elsie Trent and Fred.  Give the ladies a call and tell them I’ll spot each one a thousand dollars to play at the casinos if they take Winnie into AC for the weekend.  I’ve got a suite at the Golden Nugget that I use for clients.”

“I’ll do one better.  I’ll call Manny Symonds and give him a heads-up.  He’ll keep an eye on them so they don’t get into trouble.”

“You are the best brother. Thank you.  I’m meeting Sean and Nancy Harrigan Sunday night, and I’m to be in court Monday morning.”  Jillianne turned, making sure she was alone and lowering her voice.  “Neil, I know this is all a big mistake, but I’m worried, not just for myself, but you, Paige, our parents, my employees. I’m embarrassing Ryder and his dad.”

“If I were in your shoes, I would’ve collapsed a long time ago.  You’re one of the strongest women I know. Your niece thinks her aunt walks on water. You have a man who loves you, as well as the best support team a person can wish for.  We’re going to beat this.”

“Thanks for being my brother.”

Jillianne put her phone away and wondered what happened to Ryder.  She shrugged and decided she’d better use the powder room before they left.

 

Ryder closed the door to the powder room just off the kitchen and turned the lock.  “Mason, tell me you didn’t contact the local office of Trent Media to send a team to Jillianne’s house. They’re camped out like a bunch of vultures on a dead carcass.”

“Back down, Sherlock.  I didn’t call them, but I know who did. Remember when Gianna Knight was here doing a story on the Bessandra Troy Museum in August?  Her team showed up yesterday to finish the job, which includes a photoshoot of the interior. They’ll be here for the next month.  Gianna has arranged to do her nightly newscast from the museum to up the hype.  Guess who will be conducting personal tours?”

“The media’s favorite lovebirds, Everett and Laura Troy.” Ryder shook his head. “If this wasn’t so important, Laura would kick that reporter’s ass right out of town.”

“Needless to say, she’s back to stick a few needles into our already precarious investigation. My father wanted to send someone else, but she insisted on finishing a job she started.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. She’s got her own agenda and came back here for a reason, and it wasn’t to finish the story on the museum.  Do you think she knows we’re on to her?”

“I don’t think so. How’s Jillianne?”

“Being Jillianne, stifling most of her emotions, but she’s close to crashing.  That’s why I need to get her away from people.  She doesn’t want to show them Ms. Prim, Proper, Perfect can suffer like a normal human being.  I hate that this is happening to Jillianne.  We all got a bad feeling when Burrows hired her to manage his financial division. She’s in the thick of this, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold back from telling her what’s been going on.”

“I felt the same way when the demons went after Mollie.  Jillianne is going to hit rock bottom, and it will be up to you to bring her back.  Keep your lady safe. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.  We’ll set up a meeting for next week.”

“We’ll be leaving for my grandfather’s place in a little while and will be back Sunday afternoon.  Mason, thanks for keeping your ear to the ground.”

Ryder opened the door, coming face-to-face with Jillianne, and took a step back.  How long has she been standing there?

“You went into the bathroom to call Mason?  What is this? High school?”

“We’re pressed for time, and I’m perfectly capable of doing two things at once.”  He swept his hand in invitation.  “It’s all yours.”

When he walked into the kitchen, he saw that Polly had set the small round table in front of the picture window that overlooked the backyard.  She spent more time here than in her small apartment, and a seasonal tablecloth of fall leaves and pumpkins covered the table.

“We weren’t going to take the time to eat,” he announced and held out a hand when Jillianne joined him, Polly and his father in the kitchen.

“Dexter and I were talking about the trial.  Jillianne, I hate to say this, but your problems have only just started,” Polly informed them.

“You can eat, and we can talk at the same time,” Dexter suggested.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

“Are you two trying to scare me?”

“That’s the last thing we want to do,” Dexter said. “Sit down, Jillianne, and we’ll talk.

She looked to Ryder for confirmation.  He nodded and pulled out a chair for her at the table before he took the seat next to her.

His dad had retired from his position as a detective captain on the Beacon Pointe Police Department, but he’d hardly stepped back from doing police work.  Overseeing the school crossing-guard program for the town and working as an officer of the court kept him busy.

Ryder had no idea what his father needed to discuss, but decided it was pretty important if he wanted them to delay their trip.  He wondered how much longer Jillianne was going to hold it together. When she reached for his hand under the table, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

Normally, he enjoyed Polly’s cooking.  The delicious aroma coming from the bowl of hearty chicken soup in front of him confirmed she’d made another winner, but his appetite wasn’t cooperating.

His father selected a warm biscuit from the basket in the center of the table and used a knife to slice it open, all the while looking at Jillianne. “You know Polly is the court clerk and handles the court calendar and works directly with the judges. She knew what was coming down, but her hands were tied.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me, Dex, honey. The warrant has been served, and I’m on my own time, having dinner with dear friends in their kitchen.  What’s happening to Jillianne stinks.”

Polly hesitated before continuing, and Dexter patted the back of her hand.  “Tell them, sweetheart. What you say won’t leave this room.”

“Jillianne hasn’t been formally arraigned, and things are stacked up against her. This is just my personal opinion, but I’m not sure she’s going to get a fair hearing.  The judge sitting on the bench is Victor Burrows, Cornelius’ Jr.’s nephew.”

“There’s more than one judge,” Ryder interrupted.

“I received a timely message from Judge Meadows’s assistant this morning.  He’s made arrangements to have a medical procedure on Monday morning that he’s been putting off for quite a while and will be unavailable for the rest of the week.”

“Damn. Cornelius is lining up his ducks, all in his favor.”  Ryder wanted to say more, but couldn’t.

“Damn is right!  What the hell is going on?”  Outrage filled Jillianne’s voice. “I’m not saying this judge won’t be fair, but I feel like I’ve been tried and convicted and I haven’t put a foot into the courtroom.” 

Polly turned in her seat and stared pointedly at Jillianne.  “Pay close attention to what I’m about to say.  I once read a book with a similar scenario, and the defendant’s lawyers requested a different judge because of a conflict of interest.”

Ryder relaxed a little when the light of understanding shone in Jillianne’s eyes.

“I read that Judy Kentrus suspense book, too.  When I talk to my lawyers, I’m going to request a different judge claiming conflict of interest.  What time do you get in the office on Monday morning?”

“I’m there by seven.  Judge Burrows can bluster all he wants, but you have a valid claim.  Technically, he should recuse himself.”

“I can honestly say I haven’t read the book, so where did they get a different judge?” Ryder asked, going along with Polly’s idea.

“See, the municipal court clerk was a personal acquaintance of the county clerk, and she contacted her friend to get a list of approved judges that could step in when a town required temporary replacement. There was this great judge who didn’t take any shit, pardon my French.”

“Polly, what you’ve just told us about Judge Burrows is against the confidentiality demanded by your position.  Please don’t put your job in jeopardy,” Ryder warned.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re discussing a great book.  I’m hoping to reschedule the hearing for nine a.m. Tuesday.”

“See how smart my Polly is?” Dexter complimented with a big grin.

“On a personal note,” Polly added, “I’ve got a beef with Burrows Real Estate.  I sell real estate on the side.  His agents have been brokering a lot of short sales.  These homes are in run-down neighborhoods all over the county and are sold in a matter of days. Plus, they’re cash deals.  A friend of mine said they’re bulldozing the buildings.”

Money laundering for the cartel. The words jumped into Ryder’s head.  He really needed to have that meeting with The Association.

Polly insisted they finish their dinner. Before they left, Ryder needed to speak to his father, alone.  He placed his orange napkin on the table and stood up.

“Polly, that was delicious.  Before we leave, I need to have a heart-to-heart with my dad.”

“Give me your keys, and I’ll take Watson out to the truck,” Jillianne suggested.  The dog, which had made himself comfortable next to Jillianne’s chair, jumped up and barked in agreement, before running out the doggie door.

“Take the blue and black quilted jacket off the hook by the back door,” Ryder advised before she walked out the door.

Ryder followed his father into the den. “Dad, I can’t explain everything right now, but Burrows is dirty.  I need you and Polly to be careful.”

“I will and always am.” Dexter sat on the edge of his favorite chair and rested his elbows on his knees.  He drew in a deep breath and stared up at his son.  “I’ve never told you this, but maybe if I’d believed you, this situation wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The murder.” 

Ryder plopped his butt on the edge of the neighboring recliner, shocked that his father had knowledge about their investigation.

“I wasn’t working that night you claimed to have witnessed a murder.  Rather than act like a cop and believe my son, I acted the enraged parent when we got called into police headquarters.  A cop’s son, my son, getting stinking drunk, embarrassing your mother and me.  You know the drill. I regret to this day I didn’t believe you.”

“You know who was murdered?”

“Years later, I put two and two together.  When Margie Holcombe called to report her missing brother, Charlie McCarthy, you know, Mack, and I were the detectives assigned to question everyone about Marshall’s disappearance.”

“Did you question Cornelius Burrows personally?”  

“Him and his son, the asshole realtor Polly is having a problem with.  I remember them swearing they had no knowledge of Marshall’s whereabouts.  At the time, I was disturbed by their coldhearted, business-as-usual attitude.  Can you confirm this mess with Jillianne goes back to Burrows and the cannery?”

Ryder nodded.  “There’s a great deal to this investigation that will take too much time to explain.  In short, they’re responsible for multiple murders and life-changing conspiracies that have affected The Association and the Fabulous Four.  We’re missing a lot of specifics and proof Burrows ordered the hit on Holcombe. We’ve recently brought Mack into our investigation as a consultant because he had pertinent information on another murder they committed. Do you still have your notes?”

“I’ve kept all my notebooks in order by date of the investigation.”

“Great!” Ryder forced himself to contain his enthusiasm in getting more information about the incident.  “Try to locate the one that includes your interview with Burrows.”

“I think it would be a good idea if I met my former partner for coffee. We can hash out old times and pick each other’s brains.”

“If you two masterminds come up with something, let me know.”  Ryder stood up and moved away from the chair. “Dad, I’ve got to get going.  Please don’t discuss this with Polly. I know she can be trusted, but the fewer people who know about this the better.  Burrows has been a step ahead of us every step of the way, so he’s got a network of informants.”

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.  Burrows and former mayor Liam Thompson frequent town hall, and I’ll keep an ear out.” 

Ryder went to head back to the kitchen but paused when his father put a firm hand on his shoulder.  “I haven’t said this often enough, but I’m very proud of you as a cop and the man you’ve become. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Ryder drew his father in for a heartfelt clinch, closed his eyes and enjoyed this rare moment.  “I’ve had the best teacher and role model.  I love you, Dad.”   

When they returned to the kitchen, Polly was loading the bowls into the dishwasher.  “Take the thermal bag on the table.  I put in some milk, eggs and bread.  We were there last weekend, so you’ll find plenty of staples and coffee.”

“Thanks, Polly.  You’re the best.”  

Ryder paused at the door to slip his arms into the sleeves of his red and black fleece-lined jacket. “If anyone calls looking for Jillianne or me, you don’t know where we are. We’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”  He offered Polly and his father a tense smile.  “We need to make this right.  Thanks for all your help.”

Polly kissed Ryder on the cheek. “Go to your lady, and I’ll do my magic from my end.”

“You should think about putting a ring on this one’s finger before she gets away,” Ryder said to his father.

“I plan to, but you should take your own advice.”

 

Ryder headed for the open garage door, but he paused to appreciate the scene in the front seat of his truck. Watson was sitting in the driver’s seat with his head turned toward Jillianne as if they were having a conversation.  He, too, was holding a conversation, the one he’d had with his father.  If only he’d consulted with his dad about the murder years ago… 

He opened the driver’s door. “How many times have we had this conversation?” he said to Watson.  “You’re not old enough to drive.  The best thing I can do is give you a backseat driver’s license. Vamoose to the backseat.”

The dog didn’t have to be told twice, and Ryder stepped back to get out of the way of the whipping tail that swung in his direction when the dog stood up.  He wasn’t prepared for the fart of foul-smelling air from the dog’s butt.

“Damn dog!  No more stew for you!”

“Why do you think I’ve got the heater running with my window open?  You need to teach him some manners.”

“I need to teach him a lot of things, including manners.”  He put the small thermal bag on the floor behind the passenger seat. “You okay?” 

Dumb question, of course she isn’t okay.

“Just peachy.  While you were in the house, I called my office manager to give him a heads-up.  Brad knows it will be business as usual, and he’ll field all complaints.  I told him if anyone wants to close their account, we’ll be happy to do so.  If those clients are so shortsighted believing I’m guilty, I don’t want or need their business.  I know we’re going to your grandfather’s house, but are you sure it’s okay if you take a wanted felon out of your jurisdiction?”

“Oh, you’re a hardened criminal, all right.  The most we can get arrested for is not wearing our seat belts.  Relax for the next half hour or so.”

Traffic was light. He appreciated this time of year because the tourists who frequented the seaside community had all gone home.  After a short drive on the Garden State Parkway, he exited the interstate and took the back roads that wound through the Pinelands.  With very few streetlights, he had to be watchful of wildlife crossing the road.  

Jilly was unusually quiet.  He mentally prepared for the crash he knew was coming. The dark, winding roads reflected the many twists and turns their lives had taken over the past thirty-plus years.  One of the statements his father made—you should take your own advice—played in his head.

Jillianne had always professed she’d never marry a cop, plain and simple. Her staunch reasoning was he could walk out the door in the morning, and that might be the last time she would see him alive.  In his mind, it went a lot deeper. Jillianne couldn’t handle changes.  Everything in her life was in precise order, like the numbers she worked with—plus, minus, perfect balance.

He’d never pressed the idea of marriage because of the problems The Association had been dealing with, but things had changed over the past ten months.  Everett, Jackson and Mason had married the loves of their lives.  This case was escalating, and the last thing he’d contemplate was getting married.  Keeping her safe and out of jail was the top priority in his life.

He turned onto the dirt road leading to the ranch-style house, and the lights from the truck bounced off the dense woodlands on either side of the road.  He momentarily glanced away.  The side of her head was against the window, and her eyes were closed. At first, he thought she’d fallen asleep, but the lights on the dash reflected her fingers, tightened in a nail-biting grip. They were so well in tune, she didn’t have to speak. He knew what was going through her mind.

 

Life as she knew it would never be the same.  The nails digging into her palms began to hurt, and she relaxed her fingers, but tension still gripped her body.  This was nighttime, and she’d go to bed and wake up tomorrow morning, and all of this would have been a bad dream, no, a horrible nightmare.

All these years, making sure she never made a mistake, especially in her business, shot to hell.  She was under arrest!  Arrested! If she’d done something wrong, it might help to understand why Burrows was accusing her of embezzlement.  She hadn’t sought him out.  Her firm had a full plate of clients who had been with her for twenty years because of her accuracy.  He’d personally wined and dined her, pleading dissatisfaction with his accounting division at the time. 

Their meeting months ago popped into her mind.  He’d asked her to meet him at the Plumb Beach Restaurant for cocktails to discuss business.  He’d turned on the charm and confessed he’d requested the meet because he was interested in pursuing a “friendlier” relationship.  He could do a lot for her business and recommend her to his clients. He was twenty plus years older, but she’d let him down lightly, stating she didn’t date clients.  Her rejection didn’t sit well, and he came right out and sneered, “The cop must keep you well satisfied.”  At the time, she’d wanted to throw her peach Bellini in his face and call him to task for his rudeness, but she’d been taught to always be a lady.  She’d explained about Ryder and their permanent understanding.  The devil inside her awakened, and she’d added, “Oh, yes, he keeps me well satisfied.”

The truck tire hit a rut in the dirt road and jolted her head against the window.  “Jeez, are you trying to scramble my brains?”

“Sorry, it rained hard the past couple of days, and the runoff creates ruts in the dirt road.  The house is just up ahead.  I’ll pull up close to the open porch.  The exterior sensor lights will come on, but stay in the truck until I turn on the lights inside the house.”

No one had to tell Watson they were close to their destination.  He barked three times and eagerly ran out when Ryder opened the back door.  The first thing he did was scout out the nearest tree.

Jillianne decided not to wait for Ryder to open the door the way he usually did and stepped out.  A jarring shock gripped her body when her foot sank into a deep puddle of cold water.

“My new boots!” she cried.

It was the wrong thing so say. The alarm in her voice drew Watson in her direction, and his two front paws slid into the same hole, splashing muddy water onto her clothes.  She didn’t need a mirror to know spatters of mud coated her cheeks and hair. “Ugh, Watson!”

“Jilly, are you okay?” Ryder asked, hurrying off of the porch. The gleam in his eyes was a sure sign he was trying not to laugh.  “How many times have I told you not to play in the mud?” he teased.

“No, I’m not okay.  You parked next to a watering hole, and I’m standing in cold water.  The hems of my slacks are swimming in mud, and my boots are ruined!  I’ve also got mud on my face and in my hair! You two are a menace to society!”

“Watering holes are a lot bigger,” he explained with a small chuckle. “As for being a menace to society, I’ll take your word for it since I don’t hobnob with the rich and famous. I prefer country-western music, drink beer from a can and eat ribs with my hands.” 

“You know I didn’t mean it that way!”  The chill was beginning to seep into her body.

It had always been a sore contention between them. She’d been raised by the snobby rich, but she never looked down on Ryder because he came from a hardworking, loving family. She hadn’t known what family was all about until she met him and the Fabulous Four in high school.  They’d introduced her to a world where kids weren’t expected to be perfect and it was okay to make a mistake.  It was okay to have fun, okay to take a few risks, okay to laugh at yourself, okay to love someone with every breath you took.  Ryder was her best friend, her protector, salvation and the only man she’d ever loved. 

He’d also been her temptation, the teenager dressed in black leather, riding on a motorcycle. Her mother’s housekeeper had kept her secrets. Winifred knew about the nights she’d snuck out of the house to meet him. 

No, she wasn’t a Sandra Dee—maybe a little—but now she was all grown up.  Life had sucker-punched her in a way only the Fabulous For knew about.  She’d persevered through heartbreak, scandal, betrayal, but this current situation… The cold, soggy wetness of her boots drew her back to man and dog.   

“Watson, you owe the lady an apology.”

Watson jumped up and put two muddy paws on the shoulders of her jacket, and he slobbered her face with a wet kiss.  The dog’s heavy weight almost made her lose her balance.

“Damn you, Ryder! You did that on purpose!” 

Before she realized what she was doing, she bent down and grabbed a handful of mud and threw it at his laughing face. To her disappointment, he ducked and the mud caught only the side of his cheek. Watson thought it was time to play and jumped in and out of the puddle, splashing dirty water on both of them.

“My clothes!  What am I going to wear?”

Ryder wiped the mud off of his face with the sleeve of his jacket.  “I’ve got extra clothes here, or if you prefer, you can wear a towel.”

“In your dreams!”

“I have them quite frequently about you, but I’m the one removing it.”

“I can never get in the last word!  Let’s get inside.  It’s freezing out here.”

Before stepping into the house, she removed her boots at the front door and carried them into the dated living room of the house she’d visited with Ryder and his dad over the years.  The good-size room had comforting warmth, with a seasoned couch and a couple of well-used padded armchairs.  A woodstove occupied an outer wall, and photos that Dexter had taken of the area in all seasons hung on the wood-paneled walls.  Throw rugs covered the scratched but clean hardwood floors.  The room was also blessedly warm.

She removed her soiled jacket and watched Ryder wipe the mud from the dog’s paws.  He was also quietly lecturing Watson on his bad manners.  Like the four-legged rascal would understand.  Her two loves shared a very special quality that she very much appreciated.  They made her laugh, especially at herself. Normally, this type of situation would draw her out of her dignified, regimented life, but right now it wasn’t working.

“I really need a shower and something to wear.”

“Go ahead.  I’ll find something for you to sleep in. Your body wash and shampoo are in a box under the sink.  Want a cup of tea?  I think Dad still has some of your favorite, Dream by the Fire.”

“When I come out.”  Instead of heading toward the bathroom down the hall, she hesitated, staring down at the floor and twisting her hands together. Asking for favors wasn’t in her makeup, but this was the man she loved.  He knew her better than anyone. He’d understand.  “Please don’t leave me alone tonight.”

Her simple request cut right through him, but he understood.  Standing before him was a young child, not a beautiful, mature woman.  Little Miss Perfect didn’t go running to Mommy or Daddy if she had a problem.  She was to stand on her own two feet and deal with things on her own.  Only a chosen few knew she was petrified of thunderstorms and spiders and hated snakes.

He erased the small space between them, cupped her chin to raise her head, needing her to see and hear the truth. “You’re never alone, because you have me, and you didn’t need to ask. I’ll always be by your side.  You’re my lady, my love, Jilly.”  He brushed her lips with the lightest of kisses, sensitive to the slight trembling in her body.  He wanted to give her more, but this wasn’t the time, not yet.  The mad, the fight in her had burned out.

She only nodded. When she turned and headed for the bathroom, his hate for Cornelius Burrows increased tenfold. 

He walked past the bathroom door and paused just to make sure she’d gotten into the shower, then headed for one of the two bedrooms.  The smaller room was sparsely furnished, with a queen-size bed, an old mahogany dresser and a pea green armchair from the sixties era.  It had been a standard joke when growing up.  If anyone had a piece of furniture they no longer needed and still had some life in it, the donation was brought to Grandpa’s vacation house.

He retrieved a black t-shirt with a picture of, The Association, a singing group popular in the late sixties. They’d attended a reunion concert in Atlantic City a number of years ago.  The Fabulous Four had thought it was great the singing group had the same name.  Jillianne had purchased souvenir shirts for all of them, but she bought an extra shirt and mailed it to Everett so he wouldn’t feel left out. 

He found a pair of gray sweats she could wear and red and black argyle socks.  Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such a mish mosh of clothes, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.  She’d also look like his Jilly, not Jillianne Rose, the very rich socialite.

   He suddenly remembered the thermal bag in the back of his truck and hurried to the back door.  Of course, Watson wouldn’t like it if he went outside without him. “You might as well hit a tree while I’m out here.”

He’d just retrieved the thermal bag when his phone signaled a text message.  Reception was spotty, but he could generally get a weak signal away from the house.  It was from his captain. Your dad and Polly are fine. They went out for ice cream, and someone broke into your house. Came in through back door.  Your bedroom trashed. As per your dad, Jillianne’s laptop is gone.  I advised they stay at Polly’s house for the rest of the weekend. Your father reluctantly agreed. Kaitlyn Griffin filing report.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Frustration had him bending over and picking up a good-size rock.  With all his might, he shot it into the woods.  Vital information to support their case had been in their hands, and now it was gone! That laptop had to contain explosive data if they’d had the balls to break into a cop’s house.  Discussing the contents on her laptop was totally off the table. 

The reply to his captain wasn’t pleasant, and he said he’d be in touch when they returned home late Sunday afternoon. At least his father and Polly were safe, but he didn’t like that his father had been drawn further into the mess. He walked back to the porch and put his pinkies to the sides of his mouth and whistled.  Watson came running and breathed out a puff of cold air, a sure sign winter was on its way.

“Come on, let’s check on your girlfriend,” he said as soon as they stepped into the living room. He tossed his quilted jacket over the chair closest to the door.

He frowned with concern at the sound of running water when he got to the bathroom door.  The water heater couldn’t supply hot water this long.  “Jilly,” he called but didn’t get any answer.  He opened the door to be greeted by a shroud of steam. The white, opaque shower curtain was still closed, and he quickly shoved it aside. His Jilly was huddled in the far corner of the tub with her face buried in her knees.  The water was barely warm, and she was visibly shivering.

She’d finally crashed.

Pain clutched at his heart, but he forced himself to shift into cop mode and treat her like a wounded victim.  “Okay, love.  I’m here,” he soothingly assured and turned off the water.  He kicked off his boots and tossed the pink bath towel over his shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”  He took hold of her chilled wet shoulders to help her stand up and leaned her against the tiled wall. “Don’t move.  I’m going to step out, and then I’ll carry you into the bedroom.”

She didn’t even nod in response, but stared straight ahead.  He draped the towel around her wet body before sweeping her up into his arms. Her sopping-wet head found a home on his shoulder, and his arms tightened when she shivered.  The hot tears falling on his neck broke his heart.  Jilly rarely cried. He’d once asked her why.  Personal emotions were just that, personal, and she was to be a lady at all times.

Watson hadn’t left his side and led them into the bedroom they used when they escaped for a weekend in the woods.  He set her on the side of the bed and carefully wiped the water from her body like a parent would do for their child.  He didn’t do a thorough job drying her hair, but got most of the drips.  She didn’t protest when he finger-combed the wild strands off her face. 

For once, there was nothing sexual in the way he touched every soft, sweeping line of her body. He forced his mind to ignore the sight of her upturned breasts, which puckered from the cold water, and the refreshing peachy scent of her skin.

As soon as he was done, he reached for the T-shirt at the bottom of the bed and drew it over her wet head.  She’d remained silent through his ministrations, and the tears continued to run down her cheeks. 

“Come on, Jilly love, get in under the covers.”  He quickly drew back the bedspread and top sheet and draped them over her.

He went to move away from the side of the bed, but a hand filled with tension gripped his wrist. “Don’t leave me,” she moaned.

“That’s the last thing I’d ever do.”  Watson was already eyeing the space at the bottom of the bed.  “Sorry, pal, this bed is too small for you and us. Stay close and sleep on the throw rug next to the bed.” 

Watson went into protective mode and sat close to the bed so he could rest his snout right next to Jillianne. “Watch over our girl,” Ryder told him.  “I’ll be right back.”

Ryder made sure the front door was locked, upped the thermostat two degrees and turned out the lights before returning to the bedroom. Jillianne had turned on her side and was running a soothing hand over Watson’s head.  The dog’s eyes were closed in ecstasy.

Normally, Ryder slept naked, but he left his shorts on, not that it would be much of a barrier between them. He turned off the bedside lamp, but didn’t bother to lower the shades on the two bedroom windows.  Moonlight showered the room in a soft glow.  He slid under the covers and, as if they were a longtime married couple, spooned their bodies together. They shared a pillow, and he brushed her wet hair off his face. His traitorous yearning was already reacting to the warm, soft body in his arms, but he took deep breaths, trying to beat back temptation. 

Lying still, listening to her even breaths, he wasn’t ready to settle down, reviewing the events that brought them here and what he had to do to clear her name.  It wasn’t going to be easy, and he’d need some very special help. 

By the time he was done, Burrows was going to pay, big-time.

He’d been lost in thought, but was drawn back when a warm hand lifted his away from her waist and guided it under her shirt, urging him to cup her breast.  He easily captured the fullness and kept a gentle, possessive hold.  A deep sigh sent the message that she was back.   His lips found their way to the tender flesh beneath her ear and lingered for extended heartbeats. He knew this, too, was what she needed and wanted.

In response, she whispered, “I love you.” 

The arm he had around her tightened a little more.

 

A cold wet nose on his neck and doggie breath woke him at six.  Ryder reluctantly rolled away from the warm body wrapped around him.  During the night, his love had turned over and, as was her habit, was cupping him.  His hand crawled under her shirt to hold a very nice breast. She was still relaxed in slumber.  Normally, he’d react to her possessive invitation, but he wasn’t about to take advantage of her present emotional state.  He’d wait for her to let him know when she was ready to make love.

“You’ve got rotten timing,” he complained to the dog in a soft whisper and carefully removed her hand.  He didn’t bother reaching for his trousers because he had every intention coming back to bed to resume his enjoyable position.

“Hurry up, because I’m coming back to my comfortable bed.”

The sun had risen enough for him to watch out the large front window in the living room to keep an eye on his wayward dog. Watson did his business, but the mischievous dog frolicked and tormented a squirrel on purpose, knowing Ryder watched and waited. 

These few moments gave him pause to think about how he’d handle Jillianne when she was challenged with facing the new day. She’d suffered a dramatic, life-changing shock.   Jillianne was strong, self-confident, regimented, but normalcy for her was gone. She was entitled to wallow in a little woe-is-me my-world-has-come-to-an-end suffering.  He couldn’t wait too long for her to heal, because they were going to need her help.  His heart urged him to be sympathetic to her situation, but he knew, logically thinking, that that would be the wrong path to take.  He needed to point her in the direction to fight and take her life back.  It was going to hurt him as much as his love.

When the squirrel ran up a tree, Watson started barking.  Enough was enough.  Ryder opened the door and whistled, and Watson ran into the house and went right over to his bowl of water beside the counter in the kitchen.  “You did that on purpose.  You better hold this next round of pee for a couple of hours.”  In reply, the dog looked at him as if to say, That’s what you think.

Jillianne was still in the middle of the bed when he crawled under the covers, but she immediately turned over and rolled into him.

“Hmm, you’re cold.  What time is it?”

Ryder gathered her close and urged her head to his shoulder.  “A little after six. Go back to sleep for another couple hours.”

“Okay, don’t have a reason to get up.”

And so it begins, he said to himself before he fell back to asleep.

 

The digital clock on the bedside table read ten a.m.  Jillianne brushed wild strands of hair off her face. The bed beside her was empty.  She hadn’t slept like that in—she had to stop and think—her last weekend away with Ryder.  There was never any question about their sleeping arrangements.  It was understood their time together was special, precious, so they always took advantage of every moment, and that included sharing a bed.  

When they were on vacation or on one of their escape weekends, it was obvious from the way they acted toward each other that they were lovers.  Holding hands, quick, silly kisses, loving moments on a dance floor, sharing food and drinks. They’d been asked a number of times how long they’d been married.  Neither had ever denied their marital state.  She’d always reply, Forever.

Over the years they’d played the cat and mouse game and he’d pop the question, “Will you marry me,” and she’d always reply “nope.” He’d be surprised to learn she’d kept track of the number of times she refused his proposal—ninety-nine times. They hadn’t played that game in a very long time. Had she protested too much, too adamantly, that she’d never marry him as long as he was a cop?  It no longer mattered.  She was now a criminal, and who’d want to tie himself to a woman with a tainted reputation.  You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t dump you, her conscience warned. Your mother had faced a similar scenario…  

“Stop!” Jillianne clutched the sides of her head when the nightmare remembrance generated a pounding in her skull.  She flipped the covers off her body, and a piece of paper flew up in the air. She picked it up off the floor. 

Morning, uptown girl.  Drag your sweet body out of bed. Sweats and socks on dresser. Best I can come up with. Washing your sexy undies, what there is of them.  Coffee made.

Her lips drew up in a small smile.  Ryder teased her that Billy Joel had her in mind when he wrote the song Uptown Girl.  Yes, her white-bread world was restrictive and regimented, but life as she knew it had changed forever when he walked into the guidance counselor’s office and said he’d been assigned to show her around the high school.  He’d introduced her to Laura, Tamie and Mollie, and her life had taken another turn, for the better. They’d all shown her a different side of life, but Ryder most of all. 

A loving smile would fill his handsome face when her parents’ driver dropped her off a block away from school.  Her mother and father had reluctantly agreed to let her attend a public high school, but had drawn the line at letting her take a school bus. They’d thought she’d been going into school a half hour early to do extra work, but Ryder had become her reason to get up in the morning. 

Her happiness had come to a screeching halt two weeks after she graduated from high school.  In the past twenty-four years, she’d fought, crawled back and achieved success, only to have everything she’d worked hard to achieve wiped out by four words, ‘you are under arrest.’

She went into the bathroom, and the face staring back at her in the square mirror over the sink was another eye-opener.  Her hair was scattered like she’d been in a windstorm, dark circles cupped her sleep-heavy eyes, and red blotches from crying spotted her cheeks. A spark of outrage flared in her body. This wasn’t the face of a woman who ran a million-dollar business and courted rich clients. 

The outrage immediately fizzled out.  She wasn’t that woman anymore.

Ryder had set out the spare toothbrush and toiletries she kept at the house.  Face washed, teeth and hair brushed, she felt a little better and returned to the bedroom to get the clothes he’d left for her.  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d dressed without underwear.  Along with Ryder, the Fabulous Four had introduced her to a sense of freedom in quite a number of ways.

She picked up the gray sweatshirt with the much-too-long sleeves and breathed in the earthy, outdoor scent that clung to the material.  Ryder. The matching pants had stretch bands at the ankles, so she wouldn’t have to worry about tripping.  She finished rolling up the sleeves and looked into the mirror on the back of the closet door.  “You look like a waif in someone else’s hand-me-downs.”

Out of habit, she reached for her phone that she set on the nightstand every night before she went to bed, but it wasn’t there. Ryder locked it in the truck so she would be harassed. Tears escaped her eyes, and she used the sleeve of the sweatshirt to wipe her face. She wasn’t that woman anymore.

She headed for the small kitchen that was off the living room.  On the dark blue and white tiled counter that separated the dining area from the living room was the coffee pot, a mug and another note.  Outside chopping wood.  Wrapped in foil is a piece of toasted “white bread.” Add your own jelly.  PS. Compass not required.  Turn around and walk straight ahead to refrigerator.  Jelly in door.

“What a smartass.”  The kitchen had never been a part of her life.  Winifred had seen to their meals and prepared anything she wanted to eat.  Half the time, she’d have food delivered, since she always worked late. 

A can of Maxwell House coffee was on the counter by the drip coffee maker.  The coffee she normally drank came from freshly ground beans, a blend her housekeeper special-ordered. “Stop being such a prude.  He went to the trouble to make the coffee because he knows you cannot function without your first cup of the day.”

She poured a cup, sipped and decided it was good. She ignored the toast.  That had been another dig, because he knew she never ate white bread.  Rather than sit on one of the stools next to the counter that separated the kitchen and living room, she carried her cup of black coffee to the large picture window that overlooked the front of the house.  The sight that greeted her caused the pace of her heartbeat to increase to a full sprint and made her mouth water.

Man and beast. Both terms fit Ryder.  He’d removed his shirt, and his faded jeans rode low on his hips and clung to his cute ass. The morning sun enhanced the sweat-sheen gleam to his skin. He’d tied a red bandanna around his forehead to catch the perspiration. In all the years she’d known him, he’d always worn his russet-brown hair military short.

The muscles in his arms expanded, and his back muscles tightened every time he thrust his arms in the air before cleaving the piece of wood he’d balanced on a flat rock.  Based on the stack of wood, he’d been at it a long time.

He kept himself in shape, claiming he needed to be able to move fast at a moment’s notice. All he’d ever wanted to be was a cop. 

To the right of his spine, just above his right hip, was a long, narrow scar he’d gotten trying to arrest a man with a knife. She’d been out of town at the time, and he’d been in serious condition.  He’d ordered their friends not to let her know how badly he’d been hurt.  She’d been royally pissed when she returned and went to see him at home.  He’d jokingly said, “Aren’t you glad you’re not married to a cop?”  His comment had hurt more than she cared to admit.

The thermometer on the wall beside the front door read forty-five degrees.  She selected a green and white quilted jacket and then remembered her mud-covered boots were still wet. On the rack below the jackets was an assortment of well-used rubber boots.  Along with the furniture, everyone donated footwear, jackets and foul-weather gear.

The jacket was too large and the black boots were floppy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Watson was the first to spot her and barked in greeting when she walked out the door.  She bent to one knee and wrapped an arm around his neck.  “Here’s my boy.” She laughed when Watson jerked out of her hold and kissed her on the cheek.

 

Ryder set the ax to the side and picked up his aluminum cup filled with ice water and drank heartily.  He should be cold without his shirt, but he’d worked up a lot of body heat the past hour.

“Morning.  Day’s a-wasting. Ready to go to work?”  He realized too late what he’d said and silently called himself every kind of fool.

“I don’t have a job, remember?”  She swept a hand, indicating the pile of wood.  “Are you planning to hibernate here for the winter?”

“Rules are if you use the woodstove, you have to replenish the wood.  I always chop more because I don’t want my dad splitting wood. How did you sleep?”  He already knew.  At one point, she’d rolled away so he wouldn’t know she was crying, but he’d dragged her back and shushed her back to sleep.

Jillianne ran the tips of her fingers over the part of the bandanna that covered his forehead, before going up on tippy-toes to sweep his lips with a soft kiss.  “You know, because you held me all night. Thank you.  I can’t believe the meltdown I had, and I’m sorry I behaved so badly.”

“There’s no need to apologize for being human.  You’re not that teenager who had to hide in the closet so her parents didn’t know she was upset.”

“That was before I was able to call you and pour my heart out.”  Jillianne slipped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest.  “Ryder, you’ve grown inside me all these years, and I don’t know if I could’ve made it without you in my life. The Fabulous Four helped me, too.”

His love for her swelled, and he drew her closer.  He kissed the top of her head. “Jilly, I feel the same way. And I believe I’ve mentioned a time or two that shit happens and we have to learn to deal.”  He didn’t want to get deeper into their discussion, for now.  He stepped back and bent over to pick up his ax.

“Make yourself useful. Pick up a piece of wood, balance it on the rock and move aside until I split it down the center.”

She took a step back and acted like he’d asked her to chop down the entire tree. “Me? I’ve never done this before.”

“I know. Every time I was outside splitting wood, you had to do finish up some kind of work.”

“They should have machines to do this kind of work.”

“They do, but I’m also using it to relieve my frustration.  Normally, when we sleep together, it’s far from platonic. You kept holding my balls all night, and every time I moved my hand away from your lovely breast, you put it back.”

“Sorry. You know I like holding you.”

Ryder bent down and picked up an already split piece of wood and threw it into the woods.  Watson thought it was time to play and went after it. “That’s not the only thing that’s causing my frustration.  I want to beat the living shit out of Cornelius Burrows for doing this to the woman I love, but my boss warned me off because things are escalating and we have bigger things to worry about.”  Ryder realized too late what he’d said and hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it. “So are you ready to help?” he quickly added. 

“Me?  Really?  Split wood?”

“No.  I’m splitting, you’re assisting.”

“But I’ll mess up my nails.”

Ryder walked over to the pile of uncut wood where he'd set his flannel shirt and picked up the extra set of work gloves he’d brought out just for her. “Put these on to cover your lily-white hands.  Once we finish splitting, we’ll load the wood into the wagon attached to the ride-on mower and stack the split pieces in the woodshed.  I’ll even let you drive.”

“Deal.”

Jillianne easily caught the rhythm of his swing, and they worked like a well-oiled team.  Her hair kept falling in her face, and he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a yellow and black patterned handkerchief  he’d purchased at a dollar store.

“Put this on.  It’s not a Louis Vuitton scarf, but it will serve the purpose.”  He’d purposely added the dig to see how she’d react to the snobby part of her life. She didn’t, other than to shrug her shoulders.  

“Thanks,” she said and wrapped it around her head and tied it at the base of her neck before putting her gloves on.

They worked for another two hours and decided to stop when the sun disappeared behind gray clouds.  With each swing of the ax, he’d hoped she’d open up and want to talk and spew, get rid of the inner torment he knew she was suppressing, but her depression overtook her need to want to fight back. It was time to push.

They sat on the thick cushions of the comfortable couch and drank cups of tomato soup and ate grilled cheese sandwiches. The fire he’d started in the woodstove was already spreading cozy warmth into the room. She hadn’t removed the bandanna, and her cheeks had a healthy glow.  The sadness in her eyes announced how she was feeling.  If circumstances had been different, he’d have her stretched out on the couch and beautifully naked so he could sip at her, not tomato soup.

“Thank you for your help,” he said. “There’s enough wood for my father and Polly when they come on the weekends.”

“I remember Gustave, my mother’s distant relative, the one who owned the vineyard, saying the best way to appreciate hard work was by doing something physical with your body.”

“You never talk about the six years you were away from Beacon Pointe. They were the longest of my life.”

“I know. Mine, too. You know my mother wanted to shield me from the family scandal and shipped me off to France to live with a couple I never met. When I returned a year later, I wanted to attend college on the East Coast so I could be close to you.”   

“It wouldn’t have mattered, because I was already in the Marines.”

“I remember calling your house to speak to you. When your father said you were getting ready to be deployed to Iraq, I started to cry, because all I wanted to do was talk to you.  He was so sweet and said he’d send me your address. 

“Since my mother controlled the funds, and you were out of the country, I got my master’s degree in accounting at USC. You know I kept in touch with the Fabulous Four and they welcomed me back to Beacon Pointe a week after I was twenty-five. My life was in limbo until you returned home.”

“I understood why you had to leave, but it broke my heart. I wanted to escape, too, but I had to wait until my community service was over before I could enlist in the Marines.”

“I remember the day you came home. The receptionist in my office said there was a Marine requesting to see me.  I was on the phone with one of our new clients, and I hung up on him.  I ran out of my office and couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

“You said in your letters that you’d always love me, and the kiss you gave me was positive proof you weren’t lying.”

“And the first thing you did was submit your application to the Beacon Pointe Police Department.  I know it wasn’t the FBI, like you wanted. It still bothers me that someone planted a handgun in your high school locker. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The principal and cops conducted their investigation right when classes were changing.  I remember yelling at them that you’d never do such a thing, because you’d never disgrace your father.”

Ryder chuckled lightly. “I remember Mason holding you by the shoulders. You were like a wild woman screaming I was being framed.”

“I felt sorry for your father, because all he could do was stand there and watch his son be humiliated.”

“I kept looking at my dad and shaking my head, denying it was mine.  He understood and nodded in understanding. I was more worried about disappointing my parents than myself.  My dad was furious that the chief refused to let him investigate the incident. I’d just turned eighteen and could’ve been locked up. Fortunately, he was able to call in a few favors, and I got community service for six months.”

“It also bothered me that the chief of police opened your locker.  The look on his face was like he was enjoying what he was doing. I know he’s dead, but I’ll bet he was dirty.”

That’s what I’ve thought for a long time. The chief refused to believe we witnessed a murder that fateful night. “It’s funny you should say that.  His cousin was the late Cornelius Burrows Sr. Both men are dead, so they’ve gotten away with whatever they were into.”

“That family must have been born with a ‘corrupt’ gene. May they rot in Hell. It’s a shame you never found out who planted that gun.”

Evade the truth or give her a little background information? He took her hand and played with her fingers. “You remember Everett had drugs planted in his locker. Jackson and Mason lost their scholarships because someone doctored their grades, and the handgun was planted in my locker.  We don’t have any solid proof, but we’ve narrowed it down to Howard Blumberg, our old Intro to Psychology teacher. He just happens to be Cornelius Burrows’ relative.”  Ryder hoped she didn’t see a pattern to what he was revealing.  

“Why would he do that to four eighteen-year-old boys?  He should be castrated.”

“As I say, it’s only speculation.”

Ryder lifted her ring finger that hadn’t always been naked.  “I’ve asked this question before, and you’ve always evaded answering. Let’s try one more time. The night before you left town, we made love and you professed I was the love of your heart and no one would ever take my place in your life.” 

“Ryder, it was and still is the truth.  I loved you then and a million times more now.”

“You wrote me a few letters, pouring out your love for me.  Shortly after you turned twenty, they stopped. I found out in a letter from Laura that you got engaged to a rich guy socialite.  I was upset, and that’s putting it mildly, but when I gave it more thought, it made sense. Money and prestige have always been a top priority to you and have a lot to do with why you’ve refused my marriage proposals. I’m a cop with very little in the bank.”  He relaxed against the back cushion and folded his arms over his chest.  A spark of defiance flashed in her eyes.  So far, so good.

Jillianne pulled her hand away and shoved up from the couch.  “How dare you question my love for you?  My mother introduced me to Marco because he came with money, power, and a society image she wanted, not me.  He had the means to put her back on the pedestal she thought she needed to get on with her life, not mine. Yes, I accepted his proposal in a moment of weakness.  He went to kiss me, and I felt sick with guilt because he wasn’t you. It didn’t go over too well when I refused to share a bed with him before we were married.

“We were engaged for a month, until I found him in bed with a man and a woman!  They had the nerve to invite me to join them!  Then the horny sicko informed me that he believed in an open marriage and affairs were perfectly acceptable.  I took off the four-carat ring and told him to shove it up his ass.  His father loved me because I had an unsoiled socialite reputation. He thought I could straighten out his wild son and clean up his image. I told the old coot I wasn’t about to be played by some freewheeling socialite.  I had a sense of pride, and no rich playboy was going to taint my standards and self-esteem.

“When I finished college, I gave my mother the option of staying in California or returning here with me. She came back and found a real love that didn’t come with a big bank account. I picked up the reins of the poorly run business my father left.  I poured my heart and soul into that firm and turned it into a million-dollar business. I’ll be damned if someone is going to rain on my parade!”

The fire was back in her voice, and he added a little more to the flames. “All your work has been for nothing. Your clean-cut reputation is tarnished, and your business is shot to hell by another freewheeling socialite who has dumped a raging storm on your parade.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot Burrows has ruined me.”  The fighting-edge mad in her voice dwindled, and she sat her butt on the edge of the cushion next to him and hung her head. “I’ve lost everything, my business and reputation.”

He quickly changed tactics before the flame died. “I’ll be your hero and fight for your honor, but I never thought you were one to give up. You’re willing to let your business be destroyed, your name blackened, let people lose their jobs, let some snake ruin everything you’ve worked hard to achieve. I’m very disappointed in you, Jillianne Rose.”

Ryder stood up and moved away from the couch.  “What happened to the girl who defied her parents’ strict rules and risked everything to be with me?  Where’s the girl who wanted to take on the police, declaring my innocence? Where’s the woman who wouldn’t let herself be used by some rich bastard?  Where’s the woman who took on the Alcoholic Beverage Control and the New Jersey State Police, declaring Mason’s innocence when they wanted to charge him with selling illegal moonshine?”

“How dare you talk to me like that?  He’s destroyed everything I’ve worked hard to achieve.”

“Oh, no, that’s a cop-out. You’re letting him get to the girl who hid in the closet because she was afraid.”   

He whistled, and Watson left the warmth of the rug in front of the woodstove to run over. “Let me know when you find the woman who is ready to fight and take her life back.  I’m going out for a while.”

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“You’re not alone.  You can wallow in the company of cowardice, woe is me, bested, beaten and defeated.  Pick one.”

He grabbed his jacket and walked outside, debating whether he was doing the right thing. He waited on the porch until the dog did his business.  “Come here, boy.”  It had to be the serious tone in his voice that urged Watson back to the porch.

“I need you to stay here and take care of our girl.  She’s sad, so keep her company.” He opened the door and didn’t bother to look at Jillianne.  He couldn’t.  The devastated look on her face when he’d said he was leaving her alone had been gut-wrenching. 

Gray clouds covered the sun, and he turned on his headlights so he could see down the dark road and hopefully avoid hitting the deepest potholes.  He needed to make a couple of phone calls, one that included checking in with his dad. 

He was so busy wool-gathering and thinking about Jillianne and the shit he’d dumped on her plate that he hit a pothole and his head slammed against the driver’s side window, shaking his brain. He hoped she’d come to her senses.  

 

Chapter 5

 

Jillianne was surprised to see the dog run into the room. Without prompting, he jumped up on the couch and stretched out beside her.

“He’s a mean jerk!” she professed when Watson rested his head on her thigh. He barked in agreement before returning to his comfortable position next to her. “Who is he to talk to me like that? He thinks he understands, but it’s not his business and reputation that’s been destroyed.

“Look around this place, not even a television!  On the other hand, that’s good, so I don’t have to watch my face being plastered all over the local cable channel like I’m a hardened criminal! At least if I had a cell phone, I could bitch and moan to my friends. Now what am I supposed to do?”

Watson jumped off the couch, walked over to the woodstove and barked.  “You want me to add wood?  I can do that, considering I helped split logs today.”  Jillianne remembered to put on the fireproof gloves that were setting next to the iron poker and opened the door.  A blast of hot air hit her in the face.  Sure enough, the fire was a bed of burning embers, and she added three pieces of wood.

She glanced at the time on the microwave on the counter, thinking it was much later than four thirty, considering how dark it was in the room. Someone had contributed a table lamp in the shape of a largemouth bass, and another duplicated a Gloucester fisherman in a yellow rain suit.  She turned on the tacky table lamps and then remembered the gray clouds that had moved into the area early in the afternoon. She didn’t feature being alone if a storm was moving in.

“Well, that killed all of ten minutes.”

Watson ran into the kitchen and put two feet up on the counter, next to the jar shaped like a black cat.  “Now you’re telling me cookie time.” She gave him two in the shape of fire hydrants. He’d no sooner finished chomping both treats when he ran to the front door and barked.

“You can go out. Do your business and no playing around. I don’t feature going after you in the dark and it looks like we’re going to get some rain.”

She stood by the door and it was dark enough for the sensor lights to come on the moment he ran in front of the small open porch.  “Sure, you can’t pick a tree close to the house.  You had to run down the path toward the pond.  The wind shot a burst of cool damp air in her face and she quickly closed the door, but moved to look out the front window to keep an eye out for Watson.

The first boom of thunder made her jump, followed by a flash of lightning. “No, this can’t be happening now!”  Mother Nature ignored her plea and the heavens opened up and wind driven rain beat against the front window. 

She shifted from foot to foot and wrapped her arms around her waist.  Nights of hiding under the covers and shaking alone in her bed flashed through her head.  “You will not be afraid. You will not be afraid.  A volley of overhead thunder seemed to shake the house followed by almost instantaneous flashes of lightning. She prayed the power wouldn’t go out. “Come on, dog, get back here!

A worried glance had her looking at the time on the microwave.  He’d been gone twenty minutes.  Her apprehension increased with every passing second. “Something isn’t right.” Without giving any thought to what she was about to do or face, she remembered the flashlights were in the cabinet next to the sink.  She found an old police raincoat and black police-issue rain hat and slipped her sock covered feet into the boots she had on earlier.

“Jillianne, you can do this. Ryder and Watson are counting on you.” Wind driven rain stole her breath and beat against her raincoat and wide-brimmed cap the moment she stepped off of the small open porch.  The ground was already muddy, but she focused her eyes on the wide beam the flashlight put out when she left the lighted area around the house and started down the dark path toward the pond.

“Now I know what walking into hell must feel like,” she muttered, trying not to look at the eerie shadows bouncing off the naked trees and ground cover.  Another boom of thunder caught her unawares and the too-big sloppy boots caused her to slip on the loose leaves under foot and she landed on her ass.  In the distance she heard the crack of a tree limb and she automatically put her hands over the top of her head, not that it would do any good.  The crashing boom said it landed closer to the road.

Despite the pounding of the rain, her ears picked up a whimper and then she saw him.  Watson was lying in the path and her heart broke at the sight of his bloody paws.  Her tears joined the water running down her face.  She knelt down next to him and cradled his wet head in her lap. “Oh, my poor baby, what happened to you?” He licked her hand and wagged his tail letting her know he was glad to see her.

She focused the light to inspect his injuries. Blood was coming from a series of punctures in the bottom pads of his two front paws. Instinct had her taking off her raincoat and placing it over him. “Oh, baby, you’re too heavy for me to carry you all the way back to the house. 

“Damn, I can’t even call for help.” Then she remembered the ride-on-mower with the attached wagon. She stood up and patted him on the head when he tried to get up. “No, stay here and I’ll be right back.  I’m going to take good care of you.”  She kissed his wet head and he licked her cheek.

The storm continued with a vengeance.  Without the raincoat, she was getting wetter by the minute, but she didn’t allow herself to be distracted.  The most important thing was getting Watson home safe and sound.  She was relieved when the sensor activated lights came on and brightened the area that included the shed where the lawn tractor and wagon were stored. Luckily, Ryder had left the key in the starter and she sighed with relief when the four-wheeler started the first time.

The single front headlight made it easier to see down the dark path.  Her soggy discomfort heightened, when the rubber tires hit rain-filled ruts and muddy water splashed up in her face. Her clothes and hair were plastered to her skin and the chill was already seeping into her bones, but she couldn’t think about that now.  The sight of the poor dog’s paws made her feel sick to her stomach.  She didn’t have to be a police detective to know someone deliberately placed sharp objects in the path hoping to hurt the dog. “May their souls rot in hell,” she muttered, but her words were muffled by another crash of thunder.

Just before she got to Watson, she took a short “u” shaped path and was able to come up beside him. She got down on her knees beside him and was heartened by his wagging tail. “See, my sweat boy, I told you I’d be back.  Now we have to get you in the wagon.” She opened the small back gate before slipping her arms under his soaking wet body.

“Damn, you’re heavy,” she groaned, sliding her arms out from under him when she set him down gently on the flat bed.  She bent over to retrieve the rain coat so she could cover the dog and a pain shot up her spine. “Too many cookies. You’re going on a diet.”  She wasn’t surprised when he issued a small growl.

“Let’s get you home and I’ll bandage your paws.”

 

A slew of curses filled the cab of his truck, some of them he made up on the spot.  Rain beat against the front window and the wipers fought a losing battle to keep the windshield clear. “You’re a first class bastard!  Jillianne is alone and she’s petrified in a thunder and lightning storm. You saw the storm clouds this afternoon. Like a jerk, you left her after issuing a guilt-laced tongue lashing.

People were smart enough to stay indoors so the main road had very little traffic.  He sighed with relief when he saw the lane up ahead that led to his house. He’d picked up a pizza, antipasto and a meatball hero for their dinner and spoke to his dad. Everything was fine.  The captain was personally conducting the investigation into the missing laptop.  He wasn’t about to name names, but it was brought to his attention that the Lieutenant hadn’t followed procedure and the defendant’s laptop hadn’t been turned into the evidence clerk. 

Mason gave him an update on what was being said about Jillianne. This evening, a rival cable channel aired a personal interview with Cornelius Burrows outside of his main offices and was questioned about his claim of embezzlement against Jillianne Bennett. He urged everyone who had their accounts with her to pull their business and follow up with an independent auditor.” 

This was why she couldn’t back down. She’d have to work hard to get back what had been stolen, her unblemished reputation. He couldn’t do that for her. The inner drive would have to come from her. It was inside her. That’s what he’d been trying to do earlier.  Wake up her will to fight back.

He made the right hand turn on the road that led directly to the house, but groaned at the sight of the red flashing lights up ahead.  A fire rescue volunteer was parked on the shoulder and a row of orange caution cones blocked the road.  It was then his headlights picked up the downed tree that was blocking the road.  The curses started all over again.

He pulled up in back of the pick-up truck and got out, not caring about the torrential rain.  One man was sitting in the cab, talking on his cell phone.  Ryder knocked on the window and the guy rolled down his window. 

“How long before you can get this tree out of here?”  He had to shout over the raging winds.

  “I’m waiting for help, can’t move this sucker on my own.  Trees are down all over the place and downed power lines are getting top priority. Name’s Abner.”

“My house is down the end of the road and I need to get home.  I’ll give you a hand.  I’ve got a heavy chain in my equipment box.  We can wrap it around the tree and I’ll drag it with my truck.”

While he and Abner attempted to get the chain around one of the larger limbs, all he could think about was Jillianne and how scared she must be. 

Their first attempt to pull the tree off the road failed when a rotted limb snapped off. It took over an hour before they were finally able to get the tree to the side of the road.  The rain continued to come down, but not as heavy as the beginning of the storm.

While the volunteer collected his cones, Ryder retrieved his chain, but paused when he saw where Abner had stopped and was shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Been a volunteer for twenty years, but never seen anything like this in the middle of a storm,” he said, pointing to the bottom of the trunk. “This tree isn’t a product of the storm, it’s been freshly cut. Who in their right mind would risk getting struck by lightning and cut down a tree? Lamebrain doesn’t know you can’t burn wet wood.”

Ryder gave a hurried thank you to Abner and pulled out a twenty out of his pocket. “Buy yourself a cup of coffee.” Cold and soaked to the skin, he gunned his engine to get home as fast as possible.  Abner’s comment jumped into his head.  Had someone deliberately cut down the tree to delay him?  A sigh of relief escaped when he spotted the house, but frowned when he saw all the outside lights were on.  The lawn tractor and wagon was parked in front of the porch.  “What the hell?”

“There, my sweetie, all nice and cozy.  I’m sorry I said you needed to go on a diet.  Have another cookie.” 

Jillianne sat back on her ankles and stared down at her patient as he munched on his third treat.  The hardest part had been getting him into the house.  She’d once read about people being able to bare a heavy weight and not know where they got the strength. She understood completely what they were talking about. 

Watson’s long body was stretched out on the soft blanket she’d spread on the couch.   His fur was relatively dry, but still had a wet dog smell. He’d held perfectly still when she gently wiped the mud and blood off the bottom of his paws. She might’ve been a little over zealous in her bandaging technique, but Watson didn’t seem to mind. Just for good measure, she’d found a mismatched pair of socks and slid them over the bandages.  He didn’t move when she covered his paws with another light blanket. They’d be taking him to the vet tomorrow morning.

She also felt a great deal better having taken a quick hot shower and commandeered another set of Ryder’s sweats and thick wool socks.  She’d even remembered to add wood to the fire. “You done good, Jilly,” she complimented herself and sipped from the cup of tea she’d just made.

 

That’s the sight that greeted Ryder when he rushed into the house.  His Jilly was leaning against the couch next to his dog, safe and sound, with her hands cradling a cup of tea. She was wearing a different set of sweats and her hair was wet. She appeared relaxed, content, even though they still suffered occasional booms of thunder and flashes of lightning.

“You really shouldn’t play in the rain,” she teased.

“Are you okay?”  She didn’t even wince when a flash of lightning brightened the room.

She shrugged her shoulders before sipping more tea.  “I’m fine, a lot better than you.  You’re dripping water on the floor.”

“A tree came down and I helped a volunteer drag it off the road.” His eyes shifted to Watson, wondering why the dog didn’t get up off the couch to greet him.  “Why is Watson swaddled up like a baby?  Those aren’t the clothes you were wearing when I left earlier. Why is the tractor and wagon in front of the house? What the hell’s going on?”

“I’ve a lot to tell you, but first get out of your wet clothes and take a quick shower before you get a chill. I made a pot of coffee, but don’t complain if it doesn’t taste right.”

“I will, but why are you sitting here so calm and we’re in the midst of a thunder and lightning storm?”

“I’m not calm, it just looks that way.” She stood up and gave him a quick kiss before putting her hands to his shoulders and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom.  “I’m glad you’re home safe and sound. Go. When you come back I’ll answer your questions.”

The clothes she was wearing were in a pile on the floor in the bathroom.  He picked up the wet sweatshirt splattered with mud. The pants were in the same condition. What had she been up to while he was gone?

Seven minutes later he walked into the kitchen wearing flannel sleep pants and a sweat shirt and poured himself a cup of hot coffee.  It was a little weak for his taste, but he wasn’t about to complain.  Jillianne had resumed her place on the floor beside Watson who was deep in slumber. 

He sat down beside her, lifted his cup in a salute.  “Great job on the coffee.  The shower helped. I feel almost human.” He set his almost empty cup on the floor. “Before you tell me what happened, I need this.”  He cupped her chin with his hands and lowered his mouth so he could steal a hushed, love-filled kiss. She moaned in acceptance and her head drifted back to the edge of the cushion.  He needed more and was further seduced by the sweet taste of her lips and the soft pillow of her breasts pressed against his harder chest. Her hand moved to the back of his head and she relaxed further, urging him to deepen the kiss. They were lost in one another and Ryder didn’t appreciate Watson waking up and licking their faces.

“I’m happy to see you too, but your timing sucks,” Ryder said, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.  As an afterthought he wiped Jillianne’s cheek, too.

Jillianne ran a soothing hand over the top of the Watson’s head.  “Go back to sleep.”

“Now, I think I’m ready to hear what you have to tell me.  I saw the dirty clothes on the floor in the bathroom. Are you really okay?” 

“Yes and a heck of lot better now that you’re here.  It was touch and go for a while, but I made it.”

”Now, tell me what happened.”  He was surprised when she stood up and started to pace.

“I am so angry right now I’m having a hard time keeping it together.  Shortly after you left, Watson wanted to go out and when he didn’t come back after twenty minutes, I knew something was wrong.  I dressed in your old police raincoat and hat, grabbed your police flashlight and walked down the path toward the pond.

“In the thunder and lightning?”

“The weather was the least of my worries. I found Watson laying in the path close the pond.” Jillianne moved to the couch and lifted the blanket away from his front legs. 

“Why is he wearing mismatched argyle socks?”

“Sorry for the fashion booboo.” Jillianne slowly revealed the heavy bandages around the dog’s front legs. 

“What the hell happened?”  

The alarm in Ryder’s voice instantly woke Watson from doggie slumber.  He woofed and sat up on the soft cushion.  Jillianne had put so much padding on his front paws his injury didn’t appear to cause him discomfort.

“Some heartless son of a bitch put something sharp on the path and Watson stepped on it.  In my mind it was deliberate.”

“Someone deliberately wanted our dog to get hurt!”

“I just said that. I’m so angry I could punch something!”  Jillianne continued to pace. “It isn’t a secret that your family owns this piece of property that’s in the heart of the area where the supposed New Jersey Devil was spawned.”

“I can remember coming out here as teenagers and The Association would play capture the flag with the Fabulous Four. Mason purchased devil masks and staked them in the woods. The first time we played that trick, we could hear you girls screaming.  Please don’t tell me you saw the devil.”

“No, but it was scary enough.  Your grandfather believed the legend was real.  When did he purchase the property?”

“He didn’t purchase it.  According to my grandfather, he used to play cards with Cornelius Burrows Sr. They were having their weekly game and Cornelius ran out of money. He jokingly bet the property and lost it to my grandfather.”

“So it would be logical to think that his grandson knew about the property.”

“Of course.  It’s been in the family since the mid-forties.”

“And everyone knows Watson belongs to you.”

“Just like everyone knows you belong to me,” Ryder added.

“Unless you have a tracking device on your truck, it would be logical you’d bring me here to protect me from further humiliation, and of course we’d bring Watson with us for added security.” 

Realization of where their conversation was heading showed in his eyes.  Anger in her body sharpened when she finished putting two and two together. “Don’t say it!  In other words, don’t rain on my parade.  He’s behind this vicious move, and if it’s the last thing I ever do, that lowlife is going to pay for hurting our dog!  Someway, somehow, I’m going to make it my business to destroy that lower than a snake’s corporation!”

 

Four words flashed through Ryder’s head.  She’s ready to fight. He made himself comfortable beside Watson, and they both watched her pace.  The dog’s head moved back and forth, following her every move. Ryder might have taken the wrong approach to inciting her anger, but as he gave it more thought, he realized that all he had to do was make her unleash the protective, fight-for-the-underdog side she never acknowledged.  She was magnificent!

He stood up and took her by the shoulders to make her stop pacing.  “I owe you an apology.  I said some pretty nasty things before I left. It was a piss-poor way to fire up your mad to make you want to fight back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come here.”  He made himself comfortable on the couch and pulled her onto his lap.  Watson didn’t want to be left out and moved his head to her knees. “Think about what you just said.  You want to go after him for hurting our dog.  You didn’t say you want to go after him because of what he did to you.  You overcame your fear of thunderstorms and went out to save Watson.  Like I mentioned earlier, when they were trying to arrest me, you didn’t care about your own reputation, but screamed and challenged the authorities in my defense.  You took on the establishment to protect Mason and saved him from going to jail.”  He brushed the hair away from her cheek and grinned.  “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Jillianne Rose. I think I’ll get you a special shirt that reads Lady Underdog.”

“Lady Underdog? I like that,” she said with a laugh.  “Leave it to you to point out a part of myself I never recognized.  She’ll have to be my alter ego.”

“I’m very proud of you, Jilly.  I know we’re facing a lot of trouble, but we know you’re innocent.  It’s not going to be easy, but we’re going to make this right, I promise.  If Burrows sees you backing down and hiding with your tail between your legs, you’ll be giving him a win.  Your office staff and their families will suffer if they lose their jobs. That alone should piss off Lady Underdog.”  He drew her head to his shoulder. “You also have a small army of friends who are willing to stand and fight right alongside you.”

“While I was wallowing in self-pity, I forgot about them. Thanks for reminding me. I’m sorry for behaving so badly. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“There was never any question.  I love you, Jilly, and that will never change.”

“I love you, too, Sherlock.  You’ll need all of your police skills to help get me out of this.  No more hiding in the shadows. I’m ready to hold my head high and fight.  Before we do that, we need to take Watson to the vet to get his paws checked out.”

“My vet has an emergency number. I’ll call him in the morning. Before we leave, I plan to check out the path to find whatever they planted.”

Watson chose that moment to jump off the couch, and he didn’t appear to be in much discomfort as he made his way to his empty food bowl and pushed it in their direction with his nose.

“Food!  Our dinner is in the truck. I picked up a pizza, salad and a hero.  Why don’t you feed him while I get ours?”

 

Jillianne collected the used paper plates from dinner and put them in the garbage can under the sink.  “Thank you for a delicious dinner.  I didn’t think I could eat, but I feel a lot better. You may think I’m crazy after spending all that time in the rain, but I need to take another shower and wash my hair.”

“I understand, believe me. While you’re doing that, I’ll tamp down the fire in the woodstove and take Watson out.”

The dog’s head popped up at the mention of the word out, and he jumped off the couch without discomfort. “I know you’re going to want to smell around and investigate, but no free running around for you tonight, my friend.  You’ll stay by my side. You can ride in the back of the wagon while I put the tractor away.”

Ryder wanted to take a look around the perimeter of the house.  More than ever, he was convinced the tree had been deliberately cut down to delay him from getting back to the house. What was more frightening: He’d left her alone at the mercy of the demons.  But you left Watson here to protect her, his conscience jumped in.  Not enough. 

“His feet are going to be muddy, so I’ll replace the bandages when he comes in the house.”

“I’ll take care of it, love.  Enjoy the warm water. If you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine, Sherlock, really.”

“I believe you. Go.”

Despite the exterior lighting, Ryder grabbed a flashlight.  After putting the mower back in the storage shed, he took a slow walk around the house, but he didn’t find any footsteps in the soft ground, other than the ones he made.  Watson wanted to veer off and head down the path to the pond, but the serious tone in Ryder’s voice when he issued their established command by my side threw the dog into cop mode.

Confident the demons hadn’t gotten close to the house, he went back inside. Before turning off the lights, he cleaned Watson’s paws and replaced the bandages.  On the way to the bedroom, concern had him pausing at the bathroom door, listening to the water running in the shower.  His hand moved toward the doorknob, but Watson poked him in the thigh with his nose. 

“What?” The look on Watson’s face said, You said you believed her, so don’t start doubting her newfound courage.

“You’re right and too damn smart.”  He walked into the bedroom and smiled when the dog walked over to his newly made bed.  Jillianne had piled three blankets on the floor so he would have something comfortable to sleep on. She would have made a great mother. That dream had ended a long time ago.  Her hot flashes and mood swings during her hormonal changes had driven them both crazy.

He crawled under the covers, naked and turned on his side to check the time on the bedside clock. At fourteen minutes, the water shut off and the bathroom door opened.

His lungs filled with a sigh of relief, but his heart rate picked up at the sight of Lady Underdog walking into the bedroom wearing a small towel tucked between her breasts. It barely covered her hips.  Her body smelled of fresh peaches.  She’d towel-dried her hair, but left it wonderfully wild. An orchard of taste and beauty, he thought, and nodded toward the dresser. “Looking for your nightshirt? I sure hope not,” he quickly added.

“I’m sure you’re tired from cutting wood and moving the tree and stuff, but I’ve got an ache in my lower back, probably from carrying the dog.  Any chance you can give me a good back rub?” She pouted, whipping off towel. To emphasize her discomfort, she thrust out her beautiful breasts and put a hand to her lower back.  “I even come prepared with oil.  I found a bag in the cabinet under the bathroom sink with a half-dozen bottles of massage oils.  Polly left a note that said, ‘Help yourself. We can’t use them all.’”

“Thank you for putting that picture in my head, but what I’m seeing before me is pure perfection.” No matter how many times they made love, he never got tired of indulging his senses on every gentle curve and sleek line of her gorgeous, unclothed body.  He loved the heart-shaped birthmark on her right upper arm, because it was a symbol of the deep, everlasting love they shared. 

  “I’m sure I can manage that, and a whole lot more.” He got out of bed, not caring that he was just as naked and already obviously aroused. “Stretch out on the bed, and I’ll see what I can do.”

She purposely wiggled her ass when she walked around to the other side of the bed and twisted her body in flirtatious poses before getting comfortable. “My cop has magic hands,” she complimented before giving him an air kiss.

He read the label on the bottle. “Shea and honey, that’s quite a combination.”  He poured a few drops into his hands before rubbing them together.  “Now relax and enjoy.” He straddled her legs and slowly glided his palms up her back, starting at the swell of her buttocks.  When he got to her shoulders, he brushed the hair away from her neck and rotated the tips of his fingers down the length of her neck before traveling across her shoulder blades and down her arms, which she’d stretched out on either side of her head. 

“Feel the heat yet?” he murmured, moving his palms down the outer edges of her ribs, framing her hips with his open hands.

“Hmmm, harder, more toward my lower back.  Use more oil.”

“Coming right up.”

“From the feel of the stiffness between my legs, you already are,” she teased and spread her legs a little more. “Make yourself at home.”

He had no problem accepting her invitation and slid forward, but forced himself not to move.  This part was for her.

“Get ready for more heat, baby,” he warned and applied more oil to his hands.  Once again, his palms traveled up her back, moving in a circular motion, adding the slightest bit more pressure.  Her moan of satisfaction filled the room, and he made one more sweep of her back, ending with the pink skin of her cute butt.  He gently treated the soft mounds with the light-scented oil before using a coaxing finger to coat the narrow cleft with this finger.  “Any pains here?”

“Sherlock, you’ve got to be kidding,” she squirmed as he continued to move his exploring finger from top to bottom.  “The ache has traveled to another spot, and it requires your immediate attention.  Lift up so I can roll over.”

She flipped over, and he settled between her legs when her eyes dropped to his obvious erection.  “Ah, poor baby, I’m not the only one with a stiff muscle,” she teased and reached for the massage oil and poured some in the palm of her hand.  “Hold still and I’ll see if I can make you feel better.”

“You little tease, I like it just the way I am, and there’s only one way to make my pain go away.” He inhaled quickly, and his personal discomfort increased when she took him between her oiled hands and massaged the hard length that tightened from her slow, easy petting.  

“Nothing seems to be working,” she baited and took his hand and brought it to the swollen tip of her breast.  “I’ve got a new ache right here.”

“Can’t have a dissatisfied customer.”  This time, he tipped the bottle and let the fragrant oil slither in the valley between her breasts. The silky stream pooled at her navel.  Rather than use his palms, he dipped his fingertips into the silky solution and coated her stomach before seeking out her breasts.  He gently took the tips between his fingertips and rolled the stiffness.   “How’s the discomfort?” he challenged, already knowing she was aching all over.  He certainly was. A dreamy glow coated her eyes and reflected the glimmer of excitement in her body. She lifted her legs and entangled them around his hips, moving on her own to probe for his hardness that was reaching the breaking point.  

Once again, he reached for the bottle of oil, poured some in his palms and ran his hands up and down her slender thighs that gripped him tighter with her building need.  Up and down, back and forth, his fingertips explored the crease in her groin, but pulled back at the last minute, deliberately avoiding touching the throbbing center of her heat.

“Damn you, why didn’t you touch me?  My entire body is on fire,” she moaned in frustration and took him in hand and squeezed. “You know exactly how to work me up. Time to put the fire out.”

“’Bout damn time,” he agreed.  “It’s going to be quick,” he warned before lifting her hips. His plunging entry was silky smooth, and her inner muscles took possession. He felt her all over.  His Jilly.  His love. They were one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

The following morning, they walked the path Jillianne had driven the night before. The air was crisp and clear, the sky a brilliant blue, Mother Nature’s apology for the previous ugly night.  His anger at what had been done to his four-legged pal bested Jillianne’s. Burrows had pulled a triple play—endangering his love, his father and his dog—to send him a message.

The flip-flop sound from Jilly’s too-big boots filled his ears. He held her hand so she wouldn’t slip in the mud or on the wet leaves. “Watson wasn’t happy when we told him he had to stay in the house.”

“When I changed his bandages this morning, his paws looked better. As soon as you get a cell signal, call the vet. We’re close to where I found him.  In the daylight, it isn’t so bad, but last night I felt like I was walking into hell.”

“You were, considering the weather.” The cop in him needed to ask this question so he could put a timeline together. It was going to raise her suspicion. “You said Watson had to go out shortly after I drove away, even though he did his business before I left.”

“He went to the door and barked a couple of times. Are you thinking he heard someone?”

Oh yeah, he silently noted. “That dog can hear an acorn drop, so it’s a good possibility.”  He focused his attention on the ground as soon as the tractor’s tire marks stopped and tugged on her hand, indicating she should stop.  Wet leaves with what appeared to be reddish-brown stains had been disturbed. His temper swelled as he pictured his dog out for run and being lured into a trap.

“Damn it all to hell!”  Ryder bent down and carefully brushed away a few leaves to discover a strip of wall and fence spikes. A couple of the sharp points were discolored from Watson’s blood. He picked it up and would add it to their growing pile of evidence against the bastards.

“What is that?  It’s lethal-looking.”

“If you don’t want critters crawling up your fence or on a wall, you install these.  I’ve seen buildings with bird-control spikes to keep away pigeons.”

Jillianne gasped.  “That’s cruel and inhumane.”

“I agree, so you know who and what we’re dealing with.  Stay here, I want to check the path that follows the pond.  If they left any more strips, I need to remove them so wild animals don’t get hurt.”

“Oh, no. I’m coming with you. Lady Underdog can handle it.”  Jillianne paused and squeezed his hand. “I love the name you gave me, and I know what you’re trying to do. Teasing and making me laugh is very good therapy, and it’s your way of trying to take my mind off the nightmare I’m facing. I appreciate it, but I promise I won’t cower in his presence, hide in a closet or pull a hood over my head.” 

She lowered her eyes and stared down at the ground. “Last night, you said I disappointed you.”

Ryder immediately cupped her chin and forced her to face him. “I shouldn’t have said that, Jilly.”

“No, you’re right, because I disappointed myself, too.  I also recognize that I can’t fight the fight alone, and I’ll need you more than ever. I’m sure I’ll have wavering moments, tears of frustration, but I’ll have you beside me and, of course, our friends.” Jillianne removed his hand from her chin and kissed his palm. “Let’s go look for clues and make sure no other animals get hurt.”

The ground was muddier the closer they got to the lake.  Sunlight bounced off the small ripples. “The first time my dad brought us here, we couldn’t get over the tea-colored water.  Then we found out the water is a product of the iron and tannin content from the abundance of fallen cedar leaves along the water’s edge. We were able to catch some nice bass.” He nodded toward the man-made path around the water’s edge. “This is the only way from the main road.” 

They followed the trail that ended at the dirt road he’d traveled the night before, and he was relieved not to have found any more strips.  He was just about to suggest they start back to the house when Jillianne spotted the downed tree.

He never should’ve brought her along, because Lady Underdog was too smart for her own good.  It was too late to stop her when she dropped his hand and walked a few feet down the shoulder of the road and stopped at the freshly cut base.

“Is that the tree you had to remove last evening? Look at that pile of wood chips.  Ryder, call me crazy, but someone deliberately cut down this tree.”

“Abner, the volunteer fireman, brought it to my attention last night,” he hurriedly noted, not wanting to give her too much time to dwell on the situation.  It was only wishful thinking.

“I’ll bet it was the same malicious human beings that put down that dangerous strip for Watson to get hurt.  They knew you left the house and downed the tree in the terrible weather, hoping you wouldn’t see it in the poor visibility. If Burrows was behind this, he was trying to hurt both of you because of me!”

Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of the quilted jacket she wore over his borrowed sweats. “I can take whatever happens to me, but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you or Watson.  You should walk away right now.”

Inside, he felt like a shit and wanted to shout, No, it’s because of me that you are being tortured at the hands a heartless devil. He drew her into his arms and linked their bodies together. “No one is walking away. Things are going to get a whole lot tougher, uglier. Neither of us knows what’s going to happen, but I’ll be with you every step of the way.”  He lifted her head from his chest, needing her to see the truth in his eyes. “Jilly love, what we have together will never end, but I want a promise from you, too.  No matter what happens, you’ll always have faith in me and know what I have to do is the right thing for us.  Never stop loving me.”

“When you use your no-nonsense tone of voice, I know this is a whole lot serious. I vow never to stop loving or believing in you.” 

He leaned into her when her arms wrapped around his neck, and he sealed their lips to share a kiss filled with love and promise.          

They checked the path again on their way back to the house, just in case they missed something the first time.  They were almost back to the house when Ryder spotted the piece of paper in a plastic bag, covered with a good-size rock. This was how the demons had left notes for The Association over the years.  He didn’t have the option of leaving it here, but prepared himself for the questions Jillianne would ask, questions that would require clever wording, right down to lying.

“Looks like Watson did hear someone,” he said and tossed the rock into the woods. 

The envelope was addressed to him. They had yet to find a fingerprint on any of the other notes they’d received, so he didn’t expect they would on this one either.  He opened the back flap and pulled out the piece of paper.  He really wanted to read it in private, but that wasn’t about to happen.  Jillianne leaned over his shoulder.

We’ve destroyed every piece of evidence you’ve uncovered, including the laptop, and eliminated all witnesses. Your girlfriend should’ve kept her nose out of our business.  Now she’s paying the price.  You can’t win. 

“Who are these people?  What are they talking about?” Jillianne asked as she jerked back, wide-eyed. “Are they referring to my laptop?”

“I wanted to wait until tomorrow to tell you, because you’ve been through enough hell this weekend, but someone broke into my father’s house and stole your laptop.”

“Oh my God! Are he and Polly all right?”

“They’re fine and weren’t in the house at the time. The captain is investigating the incident.  Let’s get back to the house.  Watson is probably pacing like an expectant father.”

“What did they mean by your girlfriend sticking her nose into their business?” Jillianne asked when they were approaching the house.

Before he could offer up an explanation, Jillianne abruptly halted at the base of the porch steps.  Her eyes widened in self-conclusion. “I’ll bet it has to do with those questionable accounts I wanted to discuss with Burrows, the ones that he said I’d made a mistake about and weren’t part of his business.  Does he think I’m a stupid woman?  Going after my man and hurting our dog has pissed me off big-time, but don’t tell me how to do my job! Oh, I’m going to get that back-stabbing pervert if it’s the last thing I do!”

Ryder decided he’d just unleashed a new female superhero.  Cornelius Burrows had no idea what Lady Underdog was capable of doing.   He needed to warn the Fabulous Four and The Association that a loose cannon would be in their midst. “He’s totally underestimated Lady Underdog.” 

“Damn straight!” Jillianne declared and threw her arms around his neck.  She kissed him with so much force he backed into the door and banded his arms around her.  He poured everything into returning the kiss, letting her know he totally agreed with her declaration.

Watson was watching out the front window and started barking.

“Let’s get our dog and take him to the vet,” Ryder said, just before he opened the door to be greeted by a very happy dog and sloppy wet kisses.

 

On their way home, Ryder called the emergency number he had for the vet and found out the office would be open until two, so they could take Watson right over. 

The vet’s office was on the outskirts of Beacon Pointe, surrounded by a dense wooded area. Dr. Bones had been taking care of Watson since he was a pup.  Ryder opened the back door of the truck, and the dog didn’t move.  “Don’t start this nonsense.  I get that you hate going to the vet, but you need to get checked out.”

Watson stood up on the seat, turned around and gave Ryder a perfect view of his ass.

“You know he’s got boarding services.  Keep up that attitude, and you’ll be spending a few days here.”

“What’s holding you guys up?” Jillianne said, walking around to their side of the truck.

“The wimp is scared.  He’d rather run into a burning building than go to the vet.”

“You’re using the wrong technique, Sherlock. Step aside.”

“Be my guest,” he replied and moved out of the way.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Jillianne coaxed, and the damned dog turned around and kissed her on the cheek. “Be a good boy for Mommy, and I’ll have Winnie fix you a steak when we get home.”

Ryder gritted his teeth when the dog gave him a look that said, See, that’s how it’s done. Plus. I’m getting a steak.

The walls of the reception office were decorated with framed collages of dogs and cats that the vet had taken care of over the years. Fortunately, the room was empty.  From experience, Ryder knew that some people stared at German shepherds with unease.

The pretty woman behind the counter was new. The name Madison was embroidered on her smock, which was covered with imprints of dogs and cats.

“You must be Ryder Wayne.  Dr. Parisi will be right with you.”

“What happened to Dr. Bones?  Watson is somewhat of a scaredy-cat.”

“He semiretired two months ago and is a mobile vet for farm animals. His wife was his receptionist and retired also. Actually, Dr. Parisi is Dr. Bones’s nephew. Don’t worry, all the notes on our patients are in the computer.  I looked up Watson’s chart, and it says he needs extra TLC.  I’m filling in for the regular vet tech today. You have a beautiful dog. What happened to his front paws?”

Ryder gave Jillianne a quick shake of his head before answering the receptionist.  “He accidentally stepped on barbed wire. We need his pads to be checked out so he doesn’t get an infection.”

The door to the exam room opened, and the doctor stepped out. Ryder judged him to be in his early thirties, twenty years younger than Dr. Bones.  His copper-brown hair was trimmed close to his head, and dark-framed glasses covered blue eyes that rivaled a summer’s day.  His T-shirt, which he’d paired with dark blue jeans, had puppies tugging on a rope and read, Dogs just want to have fun.  Ryder was a little apprehensive, but the doctor’s greeting to Watson was four-star.

“So you’re a police officer. Thanks for your service. Let’s take a look at those paws.” Watson preened and followed the doctor like he was being invited to enjoy a steak.

With the doctor’s strong build, he had no problem lifting the dog and carefully setting Watson on the stainless-steel surface of the exam table.  “When did this happen?” His hands were large, but he gently removed the now soiled bandages.

“Last evening, in the middle of a thunderstorm. I’ve tried to keep the wounds clean and changed his bandages a number of times,” Jillianne assured.

Dr. Parisi used the beam of a small LED flashlight to examine Watson’s paws. “You did a good job, and I don’t see any sign of infection.”  He turned off the light and stared directly at Ryder.  “These punctures are bigger than barbed wire.  More like wall and fence spikes.”

Ryder’s respect for the doctor went up. “You’re correct, and I have every intention of finding out who put them on my property.”

“Hurting helpless creatures is inhumane.  I hope you find them.  I’ll clean his paws again and apply Vetericyn Plus, an antimicrobial hydrogel spray, before I bandage his paws.  Remove the bandages tomorrow and apply the spray again and repeat the following day.  If you see him in any discomfort, give me a call.”

“I like him,” Jillianne said when they got back into the truck.

“I’m just glad Watson is okay.”

Ryder hesitated before leaving the secluded spot.  Once they were back in cell phone range, a dozen texts would pop up on his phone. Reality and communication with the outside world could no longer be denied.  He reached into his glove box and hesitated before passing Jillianne her phone.

The stare of apprehension on her face said it all when she accepted it.  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me for this sooner,” he said.  “The old Jillianne couldn’t be parted from immediate interaction with life around her. Before you turn it on, prepare yourself for the good, bad and the ugly.”

She glanced down at the device cradled in her hand, before giving him a small smile. “The past couple of days weren’t all pleasant, but I liked the part that it was just you, me and Watson.  Now it’s time to face what I briefly escaped from. Once I meet with Nancy and Sean and hear their take on the situation, I’ll feel a little better.”  Jillianne’s sigh filled the entire car.

“Let the battle begin.”

 

Her house was located in an exclusive neighborhood of homes owned by doctors, lawyers and corporate executives, many of whom were her clients.  No sooner had they pulled down the drive that bordered Jillianne’s sprawling one-story home than the side door to the three-car garage opened and Winifred came running out.  Her arms were spread in welcome, and tears ran down her age-wrinkled cheeks.  She was wearing her customary flower-patterned housedress over her short, round body.  Loving the new trend of sassy hair colors, she’d recently added blue tips to her short white hair. She kept Jillianne’s home in top running order.  Watson was the only dog she allowed to enter the spotless house.  

Jillianne had barely gotten out of the truck when she was bombarded with a welcome-home embrace.

“My sweet girl! I’ve been so worried.  Those aren’t your clothes.”

“I’m fine.  Ryder took good care of me,” Jillianne assured, pulling back from Winnie’s loving arms.  “My clothes got ruined, so Ryder let me borrow his.”

“Watson! How are you, baby?”  The housekeeper got down on her knees and threw her arms around the dog’s neck. “Those bad people hurt you.  I made dog cookies as a special treat.”  She lifted her hand to Ryder.  “Help me up, handsome.  These old bones don’t always want to cooperate.”

“Winnie, you can hold your own with the best of them,” Ryder said and kissed her on the cheek. “Let’s get inside.  I thought I saw a truck from a cable channel heading in our direction.”  

“Not surprised. A reporter from KF Cable showed up here Friday asking to speak to Jillianne, but I told him she was unavailable to him and all representatives from the media.  When he left, I gave him the finger.

“I had a wonderful weekend with Elsie and Fred in Atlantic City.  They assured me the gossip train is knocking down all negative gossip toward Jillianne.  I won a hundred dollars on the slots. Manny took us to dinner and a show with a few of his friends.  Those men are beautiful and fun.”

Jillianne put her arm around her dearest friend.  It felt good to be home. The moment they stepped into the big, modern kitchen, they were greeted by a mouthwatering aroma.  Winnie moved to the stove and stirred whatever was in the large pot.  Watson ran over to his water bowl first and then accepted a homemade cookie.  Ryder helped himself to a cup of freshly brewed coffee and selected a freshly made pumpkin donut from a nearby plate.

On the surface, everything appeared to be totally normal, but it wasn’t.  The knots in Jillianne’s stomach were already tightening.  You’re not going to lose it.  She smiled when Ryder passed her a cup.

“Drink, take a shower, and then we’ll sit in your den and make some notes before your lawyers get here.  If you need me, just holler.”

“I always need you,” she assured and gave him a brief kiss, stepped back, but captured his mouth a second time, tasting the cinnamon spice on his lips.  He settled a warm, comforting hand on the side of her neck. 

“What’s wrong, Jilly?”

“I warned you there would be wavering moments, and I’m having one now.  Knowing you’re here keeps me from wanting to pull the covers over my head.” 

A half hour later, she walked out of her marble-tiled bathroom and felt a great deal better after her shower.  She’d recently changed the color décor in her bedroom to pretty shades of lavender, white and moss green.  When she was growing up, her mother and father had decided on the color of her bedroom, which was usually white and had to be kept neat at all times.  They never entered her walk-in closet to see pictures of Ryder, the Fabulous Four and posters of rock stars hidden behind her racks of clothes.

She walked to one of her two walk-in closets, contemplating what she should wear. Lying on the bed was Ryder’s much-too-large-for-her sweats. He’d probably laugh if she told him wearing them had offered surrounding comfort. They were hers now, and she’d buy him new ones.

She settled for black leggings and a long tunic in black, white and purple. Her hair was almost dry and would fall into fashion-cut layers, and she’d go makeup-free.

When she walked into the kitchen, Ryder was sitting at the table talking on his cell phone.  Winnie had set out two soup bowls on the fall-themed placemats on the country pine table. The gold-jarred candle in the center of the table had the scent of pumpkin spice.  She loved that Winnie brought seasonal decorating into the house.  It had been unheard of when she was growing up.

She took a seat next to Ryder and poured a cup of tea from her personal teapot, while she picked up some of his side of the conversation. “Bastards left another note.  Hurt Jillianne, my dad and Watson.  He’s a dead man.  See you Tuesday night.”

“Sorry, first it was Everett and then Jackson checking up on us.”

Winifred set a soup tureen next to a dish of roasted vegetables. “Help yourself to chicken and dumplings. While you were in the shower, Neil called to say he and Paige are working both shows at the Footlight Theater.  You’re to call if you need anything.  I really appreciate that they house-sat this weekend. Paige let me know she handled calls from your friends and business colleagues. Most of them were to support you.  Shortly after I got home this morning, we had a personal visit from the media, but Neil took care of Gianna Knight.”

“Why is she back in town?” Jillianne asked.

“She’s back to do a follow-up story on the opening of the museum and a photo shoot,” Ryder replied.

“It’s funny.  She arrived without any cameraman and specifically wanted to talk to Neil.  He didn’t invite her into the house and spoke to her on the patio.  Whatever was being said, he wasn’t happy, and I recognized the anger on his face.  I caught a couple of words—baby, conceited bitch, life.  They spoke for about twenty minutes, and he stormed into the house and left her standing there.

“After he calmed down, I asked what she wanted.  He said she wanted him to arrange a personal interview with his stepsister.  He said he told the bitch to kiss his ass.  He’d arrange an interview with the devil before her.”

Ryder looked at Winnie and then Jillianne.  “Neil is never hostile and is one of the most calm, easygoing guys I know.  What am I missing here?” 

“My brother is a very private person and hasn’t told anyone that Gianna Knight is Paige’s mother.”

Jillianne wondered why the look on Ryder’s face was that of a man ready to spit nails.

Chapter 7

 

Ryder had to take numerous mental deep breaths.  Jillianne had just dropped a bomb he’d never seen coming.  Now, more than ever, he needed that meeting with The Association.  The onslaught of complications with this eye-opener was going to cause another scandal in her life. With all his heart, he wished he could avoid the inevitable, but all he could do was offer comfort. 

He needed to talk to Mason and used the dog as an excuse. “Winifred, everything was delicious, but I want to take Watson for a walk before Jillianne’s lawyers arrive.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jillianne asked.

He kissed her on the corner of her brow.  “No, I’ll only be a few minutes.  You can bring two cups of coffee to the den, and we can get started as soon as I get back.”

Watson was already barking at the door. The very efficient housekeeper thrust a plastic bag at him. “Don’t forget to pick up his business.  The uppity snobs in this neighborhood would call the cops even if you are one.”

“Don’t worry. I always obey the poop laws.”

Watson wasn’t accustomed to walking with a leash and literally pulled Ryder down the driveway.  “Damn, dog, slow down!”  He managed to take out his cell phone and punch in Mason’s number.

“I didn’t expect to speak to you until Tuesday night,” Mason said.  “How is Jillianne?”

“Pretty good. Mentally gearing up to take on Burrows and his organization.”

“My wife is off-the-wall angry. You know what Burrows tried to do to her, and she’d finally calmed down.  But she’s back to being royally pissed off because of what Burrows has done to Jillianne.  I’m glad she never got that angry with me.”

“How soon we forget, bridegroom, but that isn’t the reason I called. Gianna Knight showed up at Jillianne’s, hoping for a one-on-one interview, but Neil gave her the heave-ho.  I hope you’re sitting down, because I just found out Gianna Knight is Paige’s mother.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. 

“Mason, are you still with me?”

“I’m here,” he replied in a flat tone.  “In all the years I’ve known the bitch, she never indicated she has a child. I guess it was wishful thinking that our case couldn’t get any more complicated.”

“I felt the same way, knowing what this is going to do to Jillianne, Neil and especially Paige when the public finds out about that two-faced reporter,” Ryder said. “I’m heartsick that Jillianne is being put through this horror, knowing it stems back to me, to The Association.  I’m barely keeping it together…”

“You’re preaching to the choir, friend.  How do you think I felt when they were going after Mollie?  Vent to all of us, because we’ve all been through hell together and separately.”

Ryder paused when Watson peed on his third tree trunk. “When we meet on Tuesday night, I think Everett should give us a quick course on how to live with scandal.  In the meantime, I’ll try to find out more about Neil’s relationship with your favorite girl reporter.”

“Don’t let my wife hear you say that.  You eat a lot of your meals at the Book and Brew, and you could find something in your food that you might not like.”

“The timeline, as it stands now, is that Jillianne is meeting with her lawyers tonight, and we’ll push to get a different judge and move the initial hearing to Tuesday.”

“What’s wrong with using one of our hometown judges?”

“One is conveniently having a medical procedure tomorrow, and the other is Victor Burrows.  The judge specifically requested to hear the case.” Ryder tugged on the leash to let Watson know it was time to head back home.

“Damn, nothing like stacking the deck against her.  Can’t you ever call me with some happy news?”

“At this point, it will be a cold day in hell.”

 

When he returned from walking Watson, he and Jillianne made notes about what occurred over the weekend with Watson being injured and their discussion with Pollyanna Friday night. Ryder had been bracing himself for this meeting with the lawyers.  Hopefully, Jillianne could handle what they were about to discuss.   

Winnie showed Nancy Jean and Sean Harrigan into the den at precisely six o’clock. The  husband-and-wife team bore beautiful tans, but their normal happy smiles were absent.  They sat together on the tan leather couch and set a laptop and a yellow pad on the coffee table in front of them.

Nancy rubbed her hands up and down the arms of her long-sleeved black sweater.  “Thanks for turning on your gas fireplace. This weather change takes a bit of adjusting for the body.  This morning it was eighty degrees in Florida, and when we got off the plane here, it was forty.”  She gave Winnie an appreciative nod.  “Thanks for the hot apple cider.”

“If I can get you something else, let me know.  Take good care of my Jillianne Rose.”

“We will, Winifred,” Sean assured, raising his cup of coffee in thanks before the housekeeper left the room.  He directed his first statement to Jillianne and Ryder sitting on the opposite love seat.  “Before we start, I have to say these accusations are the biggest load of bullshit that I’ve ever encountered in all my years as a lawyer and investment banker.  Jillianne, you are without a doubt the most honest CPA I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.  If we weren’t defending you, I’d put myself on the stand as a witness to attest to your integrity.”

“Thank you, Sean, but we need to get me out of this mess with as much of my personal and business reputation intact as we can.  I couldn’t have a better defense team.  Nancy is a great defense attorney, and you’re a lawyer who ran your own investment banking firm, so you’ve got additional qualifications dealing with finances.”  Jillianne squeezed his hand.  “Ryder has been wonderful, and I’ll admit to having had a number of weak moments, but I’m ready to fight Burrows.”

“What happened to Watson?” Nancy asked.

Jillianne leaned into Ryder. “You tell them.  Just thinking about it makes my temper soar.”

Ryder explained about the strips that had been set out to deliberately hurt Watson as well as the tree being cut down.  He also told them about the theft of the laptop from his house. 

He reached into his pocket and took out the plastic bag that contained the note.  The lawyers were privy to what was going on with The Association and knew they couldn’t ask too many questions in front of Jillianne.   “Found this under a rock outside my grandfather’s cabin.  I’ll be putting it into evidence when I go into work tomorrow morning. Jillianne scanned a copy into her desktop computer and emailed both you and me copies for your files.”

“Sick, absolutely sick.” Disgust filled Nancy’s voice. “It may not have Burrows’s name on the bottom, but it’s obvious who the note came from.  Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be admissible in court. Personally, I’d like to castrate him for what he did to Watson.  Technically, our favorite pooch is a police officer, and I’m going to request that the prosecutor files the charges as assault on a police officer.”

Watson was sound asleep on the floor next to the couch, but barked and batted his tail on the hardwood floor in agreement with Nancy’s statement.  She leaned over and patted him on the head.  “We’ll get him, you’ll see.”

“I support your idea, my love, but everything he’s done skirts the line.  That’s why we have to work a lot harder to prove his guilt,” Sean said.

Nancy took over the discussion.  “We’ve been working on your case and are ready to file official paperwork tomorrow morning requesting a different judge because of a conflict of interest.”

“But you were on vacation,” Jillianne noted.

“We’re like cops and can’t always escape from our responsibilities,” Nancy said.  “Pollyanna called me yesterday morning to explain what was happening with the judge situation.  In her capacity as the municipal court clerk, she’s been in contact with the county court clerk to request a different judge. She’s pushing to move the trial to Tuesday morning at ten. We’ll be at her office tomorrow morning to make it official.” 

“I’m so grateful for what you’ve already done on my behalf, but I’m supposed to be in court at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Polly contacted Judge Burrows over the weekend, under the guise of looking out for his reputation, stressing she knew him as a man of principle. According to the gossip, the defense is claiming a conflict of interest and plans to take the case to the county level if he doesn’t agree to recuse himself. She said His Honor lightly protested, but gave in.”

Ryder reviewed the points that had to be discussed and set the yellow pad on the accent table next to the couch. “You covered all our notes.”

Sean drank a little more coffee before directing his next question to Jillianne.  “I have to ask, what precipitated these accusations from Burrows that made him initiate this claim against you?”

Jillianne shook her head.  “I don’t have a clue.  I will say his financial records were a mess, and I don’t understand how he’s been able to keep his business running, as far as the federal government is concerned.  He has plenty of money, but a great deal of it hadn’t been applied to the correct accounts.” 

“So you basically saved him from experiencing problems if he was subject to a federal audit,” Sean confirmed, typing on his laptop.  “My other question is, if his accounts were such a mess, how does he expect to prove that you stole a hundred thousand dollars?  I’m going to file a motion to see proof of this theft before your case goes to trial.”   

“I found other accounts from over thirty years ago just sitting there that were eventually funneled into his present corporation.  The influx of cash was questionable, so I called him.  He went on the defensive and said I’d made a big mistake, because they weren’t part of his business.  When I stressed they were tied to his present finances, he reluctantly agreed to meet with me this week to go over my findings.  On a personal note, he offered to refer his friends to my accounting firm if I took our relationship to a personal level.”

“Sick pervert bastard,” Ryder muttered with a dark scowl.

“That’s sexual harassment. Add that to our countercharges,” Nancy told her husband.

“That will be hard to prove since it will be Jillianne’s word against his,” Ryder noted.

Nancy brought up the subject of bail and said they’d take care of it from their end.

“Technically, I’m under arrest and in Ryder’s custody until my hearing. Since we’ve objected to a judge being related to Burrows, they could also accuse us of having a conflict of interest because Ryder and I are in a relationship.”

“Jillianne, my lovely wife is damn smart and one of the shrewdest defense attorneys around.  If they want to get technical, you’ve been in the custody of two police officers.  These people mean business, so don’t give them a chance to bring other charges against you.  Remain in Ryder’s custody until bail has been arranged.”

“She’ll be going to work with me tomorrow and spend the day at police headquarters.”

“Oh, jolly.  What do you expect me to do?”

“Keep Watson company,” Ryder added with a chuckle.

It was after ten p.m. when they finished.  Nancy and Sean would contact Jillianne once the official paperwork had been filed. She’d see them at nine a.m. on Tuesday so they could talk further about their defense strategy before they went into court.

Before going to bed for the night, Ryder called his dad to bring him up to date.  Dexter planned to spend the night at Polly’s and would see Ryder at police headquarters because he had a crossing-guard meeting. He reported that Mollie’s brother had repaired the damage to the frame molding at the house and replaced the back door with one without windows.

Jillianne was already in bed when Ryder came back from taking Watson for his nightly walk. She’d left one light on next to the bed, and he sat next to her. Strawberry-blond hair fanned her pale lavender pillowcase, and he ran his fingers through the soft locks.  The covers barely covered her lovely breasts.

“You’ve been extremely quiet since Sean and Nancy left. I was very proud of the way you handled yourself.  It’s going to be okay. Talk to me.”

“I hate that you know me so well.  It freaked me out when Nancy said they’d handle my bail. That made it all too real what I’m facing.  Don’t get me wrong.  I know it’s real and all-consuming.  I have every confidence in their ability to prove I’m innocent.”

He smoothed the length of her eyebrow with the tip of his finger and swallowed back the words he wanted to say. I’m worried because Burrows is a clever, sneaky bastard who’s been making our lives hell for thirty years. 

“I share your sentiment.” He took a deep breath and drew in the scent of honeysuckle that clung to her skin from her shower. “You know Winnie isn’t happy when I share your bed, because your ring finger is bare.”

“She’s been blustering moral codes at us since we were teenagers, but she loves you. She can’t object, because I’m officially in your custody and can’t be out of your sight.”  His body was already responding when she opened the buttons on his red and black flannel shirt. Her warm hand slid up and slowly explored his chest before she pinched his nipple.  

“There is that.”  He tugged off his shirt and threw it on the fancy upholstered chair in the corner next to her girlie dressing table. “Do I need my handcuffs?”

“Not necessary tonight, but Lady Underdog does plan to do some investigating as soon as you ditch those clothes.”

“Oh, she does?” He laughed, standing up and shedding his jeans and shorts.  She was in a mood and was ready to play.  So was he.

“I’m just warning you. Your prisoner is randy and will probably overtake her guard.”  Jillianne flipped back the covers and presented herself to him in all her naked glory.  In her hand was their favorite bottle of massage oil.

“Get on your back, Sherlock, and spread ’em.  I’ll be the one frisking you tonight.”

“I’ve never heard of frisking a naked prisoner,” he teased in return.  His throbbing need for her built with every step he took to the other side of the bed. He’d no sooner made himself comfortable when she opened the bottle and dribbled the contents directly onto his body, starting at his chest and pooling it in his navel.  He forced himself not to shudder from the driving need for his love building in his body.

“And how do you plan to spread this stuff around?”  His answer was in the form of a silly grin before she stretched out on top of him. Her already hardened nipples poked him in the chest when her arms came up and she laced their fingers together.

“I’m about to give you my version of a full-body massage. We can enjoy the heat together.  Then I plan to ride you, hard.”  Her mouth lowered to his, and she planted a kiss that was meant to stir up his already raging need for her.

His last conscious thought was they needed to order a case of that oil.

 

The following morning, Jillianne sat on the couch in Ryder’s office and looked around, deciding it could stand some redecorating.  The plain brown desk, dated visitor chairs and small meeting table were ancient, right down to his desktop computer.  It was eleven o’clock, and this was the first time she’d sat down to relax.

Her alarm had gone off at five thirty.  After a quick shower, she hesitated to put on the clothes she’d set out the night before. A coffee-beige dress suit, heather-blue silk blouse and Christian Louboutin patent-leather pumps.  Meet-and-greet, wine-and-dine client’s clothes.  She put everything back in her closet and chose her True Religion navy jeans and a cropped cashmere sweater to wear with her black fitted leather boots. 

Ryder grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.  Before they drove to his house to get his uniform, she changed Watson’s bandages.      

At seven, they’d walked into police headquarters, and you would have thought Everett Troy had arrived to sign autographs, but the star was Watson.  Word had gotten back to headquarters about the malicious way the dog had been injured.  Ryder had left Jillianne alone, and she became the dog’s personal social diva.  People kept coming in to see the injured hero, and like a ham, he lapped up every loving sentiment.  The round meeting table in the corner of the office was filled with plastic containers of homemade dog cookies.

She’d been anxious to hear from her lawyers, and they’d walked into Ryder’s office at nine thirty, wearing big smiles. Their paperwork had been filed and accepted. Pollyanna had worked her magic, and a new judge would handle the case at ten tomorrow morning.   

She’d recalled what Ryder said over the weekend about showing Burrows she wasn’t cowed by his accusations and reached out to her office manager. The report she’d gotten wasn’t all good, but many of their clients had called in support of her personally and her company.  Others had expressed their fear and were pulling their accounts.  An investigator from the prosecutor’s office had shown up with legal paperwork requesting all their files. It was exactly what she’d expected.  The office staff were worried she’d be closing the firm, but she assured her manager that no one would be losing their jobs.

She walked over to the window that faced the front of police headquarters.  The sun was shining on the naked trees, and the sky was clear and blue.  She decided she could use some fresh air, so could Watson.

She collected his leash from the bottom drawer of the desk and approached the star stretched out on his LL Bean bed.  “You need to visit a tree.  Since you’re a cop, I won’t be out of police custody,” she teased, attaching the hook to the ring on his harness.  She scribbled a note to Ryder saying she was going to take the dog for a walk and would be right back.

She waved to the officer sitting at the front window in the reception area and walked out the front door.  “Slow down, Watson,” she ordered as they made their way down the steps to follow the concrete path to the sidewalk. The building was surrounded by hometown business offices and a few Victorian homes that had been turned into law offices and professional buildings.  She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun to absorb the warmth.  Her jacket had a light fleece lining, but she hadn’t bothered to put on a pair of gloves. 

Watson was selective of the tree he wanted to use and then decided to play cat and mouse with a squirrel.  He barked his head off, and it took all her strength to keep the strong dog under control. “That’s not good for your paws!” she scolded, reeling in the retractable extend-a-leash.  “If you don’t stop, you won’t get any more cookies!”

The threat of being denied his favorite treats worked, and she headed back to police headquarters.  Her carefree walk was interrupted when a news van pulled up in front of the building.  Jillianne groaned when Gianna Knight got out.  Her black hair was free-flowing, and from the smartness of her jacket and trousers, she’d come prepared to conduct an interview.  Her cameraman came around from the other side of the truck.

Watson’s doggie sense told him this wasn’t a friend, and he started to growl.  Jillianne bent to one knee and wrapped her arm around his neck. “Yes, she’s annoying, but whatever you do, don’t bite her.  She’s mean enough to press charges.”

The reporter was all smiles. “Sorry I missed you yesterday. Neil said you were away for the weekend.  Must be nice having friends in the police department, especially the one you’re sleeping with, that give a criminal free reign.”

“You’ve forgotten that I’m innocent until proven guilty, plus the courts are closed on the weekend.” Jillianne dipped her head toward Watson. “I’m in official police custody.”

“A dog? Give me a break,” she sneered.

“Fair warning. Watch what you say around him.”  Watson had been sitting down at parade rest, but stood up and moved a step in the reporter’s direction, offering the slightest growl. 

“You appear to very confident, but confidence won’t save your business and reputation.  I was getting my hair done earlier this morning and I overhead three women discussing how you helped yourself to their husbands’ accounts and they fired your firm a few months ago.  One of them said you came onto her husband.”

Temper, temper, Jillianne. She’s only trying to egg you on.  “My guess is they were paid to start malicious gossip to discredit my reputation.  I do recall one sick pervert who came on to me. He buys Viagra by the case.”

“By any chance, are you referring to Cornelius Burrows?”

“Why am I not surprised.  Did the oversexed degenerate come onto you too?”

“No comment. How about a one-on-one?  I just finished interviewing him, so this is your chance to speak up.”

“You’re a big-time reporter.  Why are you so interested in a case in this small town?”

“News is news, but you’re the endowment curator and director of funds for the Footlight Theater, and Everett Troy’s museum is connected to the theater, and he is on the board of directors. You’re also his accountant.  It’s all connected.  People will talk.”

Jillianne couldn’t believe how this manipulative bitch had come up with such ridiculousness. “Are you out of your mind?  My problems have nothing to do with Everett Troy. Inciting an ugly rumor could cast a dark shadow on Everett’s dream.”

“Squash the rumors now and talk to me.”

“Gianna, my brother was right.  You’re a first-class bitch.”

“That’s why I’m so good at what I do,” she replied with a catty smile.  “So are we doing a one-on-one?”

“First, I have a question for you.  How could you be so cold and heartless and walk away from your newborn baby?”

“Your brother got what he wanted, and it’s really none of your business.  My turn. Why did you embezzle funds from Cornelius Burrows?”

Stupid, stupid, you walked right into the slam-dunk question. But she was saved by three referees.

“If it isn’t the bitch in sheep’s clothing,”  Mollie Trent declared, approaching the women.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the museum taking pictures?”  Laura Troy asked.

Tamie Elise Vance wasn’t to be outdone and asked, “She’s too busy taking over the gossip column.”

Watson wagged his tail in greeting and moved to stand beside the Fabulous Four to get his next round of loving sympathy.

Jillianne enjoyed an inner sigh of relief.  She hadn’t heard them approach from behind and snubbed the reporter. “What are you three doing here?”

“Apparently saving your ass,” Mollie said and moved to stand in front of Gianna.  “You want a story? Here it is. The person making accusations against my best friend is a rotten, dishonest scoundrel who tried to put me out of business.  Jillianne Bennett is the most honest businesswoman I’ve ever known.  On top of that, someone out for revenge tried to hurt her dog. Watson is a decorated police officer.  Make sure your cameraman takes a picture of the bandages on the dog’s paws.”

Laura took her turn at the microphone. “She single-handedly brought in hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep the Footlight Theater, a nonprofit organization, from going under.  She’s also too modest to admit it, but she started a charitable organization to help premature babies and those born with birth defects.”

“She didn’t want anyone to know she personally paid for all of the renovations to accommodate the children’s programs at the Footlight Theater,” Tamie added.

Laura surprised Jillianne when the angry blonde took a step closer to the reporter.  “We heard what you inferred, and if you print one word disparaging my husband’s name and the Bessandra Troy Museum, I’ll personally sue your ass for everything you own and then some.”

“Since you technically work for my husband,” Mollie noted, “that should give you a great human-interest story, rather than one that will slander a person’s reputation.”

“You really think you’ve won now that you have his ring on your finger?” Gianna asked.

Jillianne wasn’t the only one to hear the sarcasm in Gianna’s voice.

“I’m also carrying his child,” Mollie boldly announced.

The reporter’s eyes widened before dropping to Mollie’s still very flat stomach, which was visible because she hadn’t bothered to zip up her fleece-lined jacket.

“Seems your skills for sniffing out a story are getting weak,” Mollie added with a sneer.

Gianna nodded to her cameraman, indicating the so-called interview was over, but she turned back to Jillianne and spoke for her ears alone.

“This round belongs to you. I’m not going anywhere, because we’re far from done. You think they’re your friends, but they’ve been keeping secrets from you, along with your lover and his friends, since they were teenagers.  You’re just another in their long line of casualties.”        

Inside, Jillianne was shaken by what the reporter said, but didn’t have time to entertain more problems in her life.  She offered up a smile to her best friends.  “So, what did I do to deserve the pleasure of the Fabulous Four coming to see me?”

“We’re here to have lunch with you,” Tamie said.

“Technically, I can’t leave.”

Mollie held up two cloth bags. “We brought lunch to you. We’ll take over Ryder’s office.”

All four women stopped in their tracks when Gianna Knight called out, “Word of advice, ladies. You can’t win!”

 

Ryder walked out of his captain’s office and headed downstairs to finish the endless pile of paperwork on his desk.  The closed-door meeting had been to fill him in on what happened over the weekend and to make tentative plans for Jillianne’s hearing tomorrow morning.  Paul Clark had taken possession of the note and would put it in a safe place.  He was convinced there was a snitch on the force, but couldn’t move on his suspicion because it involved The Association’s case.

He stopped at the dispatcher’s station and studied the electronic board that listed the locations of their squad cars.  Everything appeared normal, and he checked the time on his watch. Mollie had called him that morning to ask if the Fabulous Four could meet in his office at lunchtime.  They wanted to cheer Jillianne up and give her their support.  He agreed and said he’d have a little surprise for all of them.

He paused in the open doorway. As expected, there was a party going on.  Watson was by his feed bowl, finishing off a hamburger, and the ladies sat at the round table in the corner of his office. They all seemed to be talking at once.  Friends, no, more than friends, sisters who supported one another since they were in high school.  They shared secrets even their husbands didn’t know and might never know.  Husbands—that title, too, sounded strange. In the past ten months, three of The Association had taken the plunge with their ladies.  Before he and Jillianne entertained getting married, he had to make some changes in his life.

“Nothing like walking into your office to find four beautiful women,” he complimented and slipped his arm around Jillianne’s shoulder.

“Damn, you’re handsome in that uniform.”

“Don’t let your husband hear you say that, Mollie Trent.”

“He knows I love him, and there’s nothing wrong with a woman appreciating a handsome public servant.”

“Jillianne, do we tell him what just happened, or do you want to?” Tamie Elise asked.

“Somebody better tell me, because Jilly hasn’t been out of this building.”

“I went for a walk, but I left a note on your desk.”

His temper shot up, along with his voice.  “I’ve been in a meeting and didn’t see it.  After what happened this weekend, you went outside alone? Why the hell do you think I brought you to work with me?”

Jillianne shoved up from her. “Step back, Sherlock.  I needed some fresh air, and I had Watson with me!  Gianna Knight showed up and asked for a one-on-one.  Don’t worry, it never happened.  Let’s just say our meeting didn’t end on a pleasant note.”

“What else happened this weekend other than Watson getting hurt?” Mollie tossed out.

“I got another love note!”  Ryder realized too late what he’d revealed.

It was like turning off a switch, snuffing out their demand to know what happened.

Mollie softly muttered, “Oh, shit.” 

Laura mumbled, “Oh, no.” 

Tamie finished off with, “Not another one.”

He needed a quick distraction and thought about his surprise.  First, he apologized.  He slipped his arm around her waist and drew Jilly’s chin up with his knuckle.  He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her dark scowl. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, but I need and want you to be safe.”  Then he pressed his lips to hers in a soothing kiss of apology before addressing the Fabulous Four. “I have a little surprise.”  Ryder opened the door to a small storage closet where he kept Watson’s food and took out four gift bags stuffed with white tissue paper.  One was red, and the other three were yellow. 

“What’s this?” Jillianne asked.

“Ladies, we have a new superhero in our midst.  Jilly will go first, and then the rest of you can open your bags.”

He stood back and watched her remove the black knit shirt that displayed a picture of a slender woman in a white bodysuit that called attention to her generous breasts.  A white Venetian mask hid her identity, and a sparkling tiara was nestled in her strawberry-blond hair.  Her right arm was thrusting a glittery gold sword, and small gold dog bones were scattered at her white, calf-hugging boots. The words Lady Underdog were clearly spelled out below the sexy character.

“Oh, Sherlock!  I love it!  Jillianne threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly before turning to her smiling friends, who were opening their gift bags.

“Team Underdog!  We love it,” Laura laughed, already putting the shirt on over her long-sleeved knit top.

While the ladies adored their shirts and the rest of their lunch, he sat at his desk and enjoyed the ham and cheese on rye that Mollie had made for him.  He glanced away from the ladies when his cell indicated an incoming text message.  He frowned at the sender and darted a glance at the table.  Laura was nowhere in sight.  He read the message.

I’m in the ladies’ room.  Gianna Knight was big trouble. Will tell you more at the meeting tomorrow night.  We saved Jillianne from being roasted by the bitch.  Before she left with her cameraman, she called out, “Word of advice, ladies. You can’t win.”  Apparently, she knows about everything.

His silent sentiment echoed Mollie’s favorite expression. Oh, shit!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Tuesday morning, Jillianne sat at the defense table in the courtroom located on the second floor of police headquarters.  The room was also used to hold special town-hall meetings, and the pew-like seats were generally filled.  She’d seen Dexter before entering the room and said he’d limit entrance to only those who had anything to do with the case.

Wanting to appear the confident businesswoman, she wore a two-piece black suit with a white silk blouse and simple pearls with matching earrings. Her hair had cooperated and had fallen into place, cupping her chin and the back of her neck.  Before she’d left the house, Winifred had approved and said she looked formidable and confident.

Only one person knew what she was hiding. Ryder had walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel. He burst out laughing when he saw she was covering her Lady Underdog shirt with her blouse. Her cheeks had turned pink from being caught, but he thought it was great. “Superman covered his superpower shirt with regular clothes,” he teased.  Then she’d glanced at the time on the bedside clock and figured they had an extra twenty minutes to spare.  Lady Underdog used her superpowers after his towel was history.

Nancy Jean and Sean were in the back of the courtroom, talking to Ryder and his father.  Ryder wore his full dress uniform and looked so handsome. She loved him so much and was grateful for his strength that was supporting her through this terrible ordeal.

He surprised her and brought Watson into court, knowing the dog had a calming effect on her nerves.  Like his master, he, too, looked handsome, in a neon dog vest with the word Police boldly visible.  He was currently lying next to her feet.

Dexter Wayne looked smart in a blue dress shirt and tie with his black trousers, the standard court officer uniform.  Standing side by side, she appreciated how much Ryder took after his dad.  Before coming into court, she’d stopped in the ladies’ room, and Pollyanna had rushed in.  She hadn’t wanted anyone to see them communicating, but said she needed to wish Jillianne good luck.

Inside, Jillianne was a nervous wreck, but she could get through this.  Thoughts of what Gianna Knight had said played with her already troubled mind.  Yesterday, when Ryder had blurted the statement about the newest note, her friends had immediately clammed up.  That was so unusual, because they were like a dog with a bone—persistent and not letting go until they got answers.  She needed to get through this before she could contemplate getting answers on her own.

She turned in her hard wooden chair when Sean and Nancy Jean took their seats next to her.

They, too, presented a united front, dressed in formal business suits of dark gray.  Sean had added a wine-colored tie to his lighter gray shirt. 

“Everything okay?” Jillianne asked.

“Fine. I think you’ll like the judge.  She’s fair and, according to Polly, doesn’t take any bullshit,” Nancy said and ran her hand over the dog’s head. “I’m glad Ryder put the police vest on Watson.  His presence is pertinent to your case.”

“I was under the impression he brought Watson because his presence is a calming influence on me.”

Sean opened a legal-size portfolio and removed clipped sheets of notes. “Watson is here for that, too.  Like we discussed, you won’t have to take the stand.”  

Shortly before ten, she turned around at the sound of the soft voices of spectators coming into the court.  She was relieved to see familiar faces, but pursed her lips when she recognized some of the people she’d worked with at Burrows’s corporate offices.  Gianna Knight accompanied them.

“Like a bad penny, the press showed up,” she whispered to Sean.

“They’re treating this like a trial, not a preliminary hearing.  Don’t worry, Nancy and I are prepared.  She’ll be taking lead chair. I’m here for backup.”

“You two make quite a team.”

“We think so, too.”

The knots in her stomach tightened when Cornelius Burrows and his legal representative entered the court and sat at the opposite table.  The snarky fool had the audacity to give her a cocky grin and wink at her.  His custom navy suit shouted money and prestige, and it wasn’t her imagination that his white hair appeared to be a glaring white.  His skin was a dark tan, indicating he’d just returned from vacation in a warm climate.    

Their attention was drawn to the front of the court when Dexter Wayne announced, “All rise for the Honorable Margaret Taylor.”

Talk about formidable.  Jillianne took her age to be mid-fifties. The judge’s white hair was drawn back in a tight bun at the back of her neck, and a string of pearls graced the front of her black robe.  Gold-rimmed half glasses were balanced on her nose. The last name, Taylor, sounded familiar. It could be just a coincidence, since it was a common name.

“Good morning.  I’ve been asked to oversee these proceedings.  Judge Burrows recused himself due to a conflict of interest since Cornelius Burrows is a relative.  Who will be prosecuting?”

“I will, Your Honor.  Liam Thompson , former mayor of Beacon Pointe.”

“I’m sure you were a wonderful mayor, but the court clerk provided the name of the prosecutor overseeing this case, and it’s not Thompson.”

“He came down with laryngitis this morning, and I’m familiar with the case.”

“Who will be representing the defendant?”

“We will. Nancy Jean Harrigan and Sean Harrigan, my partner.”

“How does your client plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor,”  Nancy Jean supplied.

The butterflies in Jillianne’s stomach went crazy when she picked up the troubled glance Sean gave his wife. He scribbled a note and slid it in front of her. Pulled a fast one already.

“Be seated. I was told this was a bail hearing, but the court clerk advised me there are a number of objections on the part of the prosecutor due to improprieties in the way the defendant was remanded into custody.”

“Before we begin, Your Honor, I need to clarify something with Lieutenant Wayne, the arresting officer and my witness.”

“You have two minutes, Ms. Harrigan.”

“What’s going on?” Jillianne whispered to Sean when Nancy walked to the back of the room to speak to Ryder.

“Nothing for you to worry about.  It’s under control.”

Jillianne didn’t believe him.

 

Ryder’s gut churned, and the trial had barely started.  His mind was filled with the picture of his hands around Burrows’s throat.  Once again, the demons had pulled a fast one and they were forced to remain silent. He glanced at Everett, Jackson and Mason, and all three of his friends shared the same look of loathing.  Their wives, too, shared worried glances. 

He wasn’t surprised when Nancy asked to speak to him in private.

“Ryder, what do you want me to do?  Thompson is a major player in the case you’re building against Burrows’s corporation.  I can approach the judge and claim another conflict of interest, but Thompson will be standing right next to me.  Trying to explain our objection will give away your lawsuit.”

“I hear you, and right now our hands are tied. We really thought we’d covered our bases on this one, but once again they’ve tricked us.  It sickens me that Jillianne is being put through this and we can’t reveal what’s really going on and defend her.”

“I understand, because you love her and you have to wear the blindfold of justice, but defending her will be my job.”

“I know you’ll do your best, Nancy Jean. I’ve got a good feeling about this judge.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Nancy said, sitting down next to Jillianne.

The judge addressed Liam Thompson.  “Let’s begin with your objections to the defendant’s arrest.”

He stood up and authoritatively thrust out his chest. “A warrant was served on Friday, and the defendant has yet to spend a night in jail.  She went away for the weekend with Lieutenant Wayne, her longtime boyfriend.  He also took possession of her laptop that contained vital information about Mr. Burrows’s corporation.  It wasn’t turned in to evidence, and she had access to the device, allowing her the opportunity to amend confidential files.”

“And you know this how?”

“My nephew is a sergeant on the Beacon Pointe Police Department.”

“You have a reliable source, someone who tells you what’s really going on within the department,” the judge confirmed.

“Yes. I trust him completely.”

“Is he here in court today to confirm the information he provided?”

“Well, no. I didn’t think it was necessary.  He’s a respected police officer.”

“Since I don’t know you or your nephew, it’s hearsay.  Sit down, Counselor.”

“But I’m not finished.”

“You are for now.”

She addressed Nancy Jean.  “Counselor, since your witness is in court, I’d like him to take the witness stand.”

Snake in the grass were the words that filled Ryder’s head when he approached the bench and his father held out the Bible to swear him in.

“Wayne and Wayne.  Any relation?” the judge asked.

“Father and son, Your Honor,” Dexter supplied.

“Nothing like keeping it in the family, in more ways than one.  Gotta love living in small towns,” the judge added and drew a number of laughs.

Ryder liked this judge, especially when Liam Thompson stood up to start asking questions and was shot down.

“Sit down, Counselor. I’ll be questioning the witness. I’m sure you’re a man of integrity, but I can’t take the chance you might be prejudiced against the witness since you’ve spoken to your informant, excuse me, your nephew.  I’d call that a conflict of interest.”

Yes, Ryder silently cheered.

“Lieutenant Wayne, I don’t need the blah-blah particulars on how long you’ve been a police officer.  You served the initial warrant to arrest Ms. Bennett.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“The clerk informed me the court closes at four o’clock, and there is no presiding judge on the weekends.  The prosecutor claims Ms. Bennett is your girlfriend and you took her away for a romantic weekend.”

“We went to my grandfather’s cabin in the woods, but we remained in the county.”

“I wouldn’t call that romantic.”

“It wasn’t. She even split wood.” 

“I’d call that hard labor.  At any time, did the defendant leave your sight?”

Ryder took a deep breath, zeroed in on the worried look on Jillianne’s face and told the truth. “Yes, Your Honor.”

Liam Thompson jumped up.  “See, Your Honor?  He should be charged with dereliction of duty! She’s got lots of money and could’ve taken off for parts unknown.”

The judge banged her gavel. “Sit down, Mr. Thompson.  She obviously didn’t escape, because she’s in court.”

“Your Honor, I can explain.  Ms. Bennett was never out of police custody.”  Ryder dipped his head toward his dog. “I went out to get us something to eat, and Watson was guarding her.”  

“Lieutenant Wayne, you want the court to believe Ms. Bennett was under police guard twenty-four seven?”

“Correct.”

“Your Honor, I object.”  Liam Thompson pointed an insulting finger at Ryder.  “He’s sleeping with her and is painting a cozy picture to cover his badge.”

“Have you ever tried to run away from a police-trained German shepherd, Mr. Thompson?” Ryder countered.

“He’s got you there, Counselor.  Why are there bandages on his front paws?”

“Someone deliberately put spike strips on the path that he takes when he goes out to do his business.”

“That’s inhumane!  If you ever find this person and I’m sitting on this bench, they will feel my wrath.  Moving on. Tell me about the defendant’s laptop.”

“I filled out the necessary forms listing it as evidence, and Captain Clark advised I keep it because the office of the property clerk was closed.  I brought it home, and the house I share with my father was broken into over the weekend.  An official police report was filed.”

The judge addressed Dexter.  “You weren’t hurt?”

“No, Your Honor.  I was out for the evening with my girlfriend.  As soon as I noticed the back door had been jimmied open, I called the police.”

“It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances.  Did Ms. Bennett have access to the laptop from the time you took it in as evidence?”

Ryder shook his head.  “Absolutely not. Watson was guarding it from the time I removed it from her office until I brought it to my home.”

“You’re Honor, I object.  This is getting out of hand.  Lieutenant Ryder expects us to believe this super dog is capable of guarding the defendant and evidence critical to this case.”

“Mr. Thompson makes a good case, Lieutenant.”

“If Watson could talk, he’d confirm my testimony.  What Mr. Thompson failed to mention is that Ms. Bennett was notified by her staff that the passwords to access Mr. Burrows’s accounts were changed, so she couldn’t have altered information if she’d had access to the laptop, which she didn’t.  She’s also a woman of integrity.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.  Is there anything else you can add before you’re dismissed?”

A thousand things, his mind shouted, but he shook his head.

“Let’s get on with this, shall we? The charges against Ms. Bennett are embezzlement of one hundred thousand dollars from Burrows Real Estate Organization.  An addendum to the charges was filed this morning by two members of the board for the Footlight Theater Organization that Ms. Bennett embezzled seventy-five thousand dollars, money that was slated for the renovation of the theater.”

Nancy jumped up.  “Objection, Your Honor.  We weren’t notified of these additional charges against Ms. Bennett.”

“That’s a lie!” Jillianne shoved away from her seat at the table before Sean could stop her.  Watson was startled by her abrupt move and jumped up, too. “Every cent Everett Troy donated is accounted for, and I have every damn receipt to prove it!”

“Jillianne, sit down,” Nancy urged and directed her attention to the judge.  “Sorry, Your Honor.  These unfounded additional charges are very upsetting to my client.”

“Mr. Thompson, I may be a visiting judge, but I’m not stupid.  I don’t like surprises and expect all charges in this case to be fully disclosed to the defendant’s lawyers.” 

Ryder was livid and leaned forward to get Everett’s attention.  “You need to get up there and clear this up now.”

Laura pulled a pad out of her purse and wrote a quick note. “Take this to Nancy Jean.”

Ryder silently approached the lawyer and gave her the note.  She gave him a grateful nod.

“Your Honor, I believe we can clear up this unfounded accusation right now.  Mr. Troy is present in court, and he’ll be glad to answer any questions you might have.”

“Everett Troy, the actor, the movie star, is in court?”

“Yes, and he’s willing to testify.”

“This is a highly unusual set of circumstances, so as they say on The Price Is Right, come on down.”

Jillianne had never been so grateful to see Everett walk past her, especially when he gave her a reassuring smile.  She agreed with the judge, whom she really liked.  This had turned into a fiasco.  She was aware that Burrows and Thompson were very good friends. She’d been in their combined company at the country club and at board meetings many times. Why the hostility?  To accuse her of stealing from the theater, which had been in her life since she was a teenager, was unthinkable.

She watched Everett put his hand on the bible before sitting down in the witness chair.

“Mr. Troy, it is indeed an honor to meet you, but not under these circumstances.   Tell me about this donation.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Judge Taylor,” he returned, giving the woman his signature grin that melted women’s hearts. “Last year, I donated a substantial sum to the theater, which needed a great deal of renovation.  Ms. Bennett set up a special account to draw the funds and sent me copies of the bids and subsequent payment when the work was completed.  Every penny was accounted for.  Actually, there was two thousand dollars left over, and I donated it to the charitable foundation she maintains for premature infants and newborns with birth defects. And before you ask, I received a letter thanking me for my donation.

“Judge, if I might add, I was recently elected president of the board for the Footlight Theater, and we have no plans to replace Ms. Bennett as the endowment curator and director of funds.  She’s a woman with impeccable honesty. Those members initiated these charges without the knowledge of the rest of the board.”

“Thank you, Mr. Troy, for clearing up this additional charge of embezzlement.”

  Jillianne breathed a sigh of relief and wished this was over.  She turned her head and settled her eyes on Ryder, sending a silent message that she needed a hug.  He understood and blew her a kiss.

“Mr. Thompson, I question the validity of these charges as it seems they were conveniently initiated by you and Mr. Burrows at the last minute.  Unless you can provide validated proof, I’m satisfied with Mr. Troy’s testimony, and those additional charges will be dropped.”

The judge reached for the carafe on her bench and poured a glass of water.  She expelled a deep sigh after taking a long drink. “I’ve reviewed the affidavits filed on behalf of Mr. Burrows, and as of right now, it’s his word against the defendant’s.”

Liam Thompson didn’t waste any time and stood up and swept a hand toward his client.  “Mr. Burrows has been in business for over thirty years.  He took over the company from his father. He’s a member of the Board of Education and supports the teams at our youth center that, through his generosity, was recently expanded.  He’s a member of the Rotary and Better Business Bureaus here and in Atlantic City, where he maintains his home office. This is a man of principle and honesty. He hired Ms. Bennett, thinking he was getting a trustworthy, aboveboard firm.  The past month, his on-staff accountants brought to his attention discrepancies in some of the accounts, and he hired a firm to look into her background.”

Liam Thompson turned and stared directly at her. “Actually, she’s following in her father’s footsteps.  Little did my client know that he’d hired the daughter of a thief.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

I will not cry, I will not cry.

She’d never felt so humiliated, and it took everything in her not to get up and run out of the courtroom. All these years, she’d fought to overcome the stigma her father had put on their family’s name.

Nancy Jean ran a soothing hand up and down Jillianne’s back.  “What a bastard,” she whispered.  “They’re so done.”

This time, it was Sean who stood up.  “Objection, Your Honor.  My client’s father has nothing to do with this case.”

“Sustained.  Mr. Thompson, unless it’s pertinent to our present case, keep your derogatory comments to yourself. Counselor,” she said to Nancy Jean, “does your client need a few moments to compose herself before I render my decision?”

Jillianne shook her head.  It would take more than a few moments for the sick feeling in her stomach and heart to go away.  Lady Underdog, you can do it.

“I’m a judge, not an accountant, so the financial figures I reviewed are Greek to me.  Mr. Burrows claims Ms. Bennett stole from him, and the defendant professes she’s innocent.  Both appear to be people with impeccable honesty.  There is only one way to settle this.  I’m ordering an audit by an independent accounting firm.”

“You ignorant ass! Stop this!” Cornelius’s demand of his lawyer filled the room. 

“She’s the judge,” Liam argued right back.

“I object!” Cornelius Burrows shoved up from his chair and thrust a finger at Jillianne.  “She stole my money.”

The judge banged her gavel three times. “He’s correct. I am the judge, and you’re out of order! Counselor, control your client. This is my courtroom, and I have the first and last say about what happens in here!  Now I’ll continue.  Mr. Burrows, you will give the court-appointed auditing firm complete access to all your records. If you don’t cooperate to the fullest, I’ll charge you with contempt of court, have you arrested and shut down your entire operation.”

“You can’t do that!” Burrows charged back.

“Don’t try me! I’d shut my mouth before you’re charged with contempt of court and taken out of here in handcuffs.”

“So that means she’ll be getting away scot-free?”  Liam Thompson appeared quite flustered when he questioned the judge.

“Absolutely not. Ms. Bennett, you’ll be free on bail of twenty-five thousand dollars and surrender your passport to the court. You’ll make yourself available to the auditors if they have any questions.”

Jillianne only nodded.

“Judge, my client has a business to run and needs to conduct the affairs at the Footlight Theater,” Nancy said.

“She can go back to work at both places, as long as she doesn’t come in contact with any of Mr. Burrows’s accounts.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Nancy said.

The judge banged her gavel. “Court dismissed.”

Her feeling of relief slowly died when Cornelius Burrows paused next to her chair. 

“Congratulations, Jillianne.  Round one belongs to you, but we’re far from done.  Your father paid the price for his dishonesty, and so will you. I’m not the bad guy here. The people you call your friends could’ve saved you from this humiliation, but they tossed you in front of a firing squad.  Ask about the secrets they’ve been keeping from you for thirty-four years.”

“Don’t you have someplace else to be?” Ryder sarcastically challenged as he approached. When he slipped his arm around her waist, she leaned into him to absorb his strength.

“I’m not done with you either,” Burrows sneered directly in Ryder’s face.

“What a piece of garbage,” Ryder whispered in her ear before she gave Sean and Nancy a grateful smile.

“Thank you both, so much,” Jillianne said. “I never thought they’d bring up the subject of my father. It’s a part of my past I’ve worked very hard to put behind me.”

“Those two misfits will be getting letters from the theater board notifying them they’re no longer board members after falsely accusing you of embezzlement,” Everett said, standing next Ryder.

Gianna Knight approached them, wearing a catty smile, and Jillianne patted Watson on his head when he gave off a protective growl. 

The reporter paled and took a step back. “You had your hands slapped.”

“I think the judge was fair in her decision.  Guess you’re disappointed I wasn’t put in handcuffs and carted off to jail.”