Love at First flight Page 22

  J

  [END LTR]

  And just that simply, the decision Juliana had been so certain of a few minutes earlier was once again back in play.

  An hour later, huddled under a heavy blanket on a lounge chair on the deck, Juliana revisited all the memories Jeremy’s letters resurrected. He had reminded her that for a very long time, he’d been the only person in her life who truly loved her.

  “Hey,” Michael said. “Aren’t you freezing?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, she said, “What?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his hands together vigorously.

  “Nothing.”

  He tilted his head to study her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Everything okay at work?”

  “Yeah. The judge wants to see us all on Monday morning, and then he’s resuming the trial.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “I’m anxious to be done with it, so, yes, that’s good. Can we go in? It’s freezing out here.”

  She took the hand he offered and let him help her up.

  “Christ, Juliana, your hand is like ice. How long have you been out here?”

  “Not long.”

  He closed the sliding glass door and hustled her over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. After he threw two more logs on the fire, he sat down next to her and held her close to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

  “Did they find Escalada?”

  “No, but they found the place in Annapolis where he’d been hiding out. His prints were everywhere, and they found traces of arsenic.”

  She looked up at him. “Let me guess, he was long gone, right?”

  Michael nodded, his mouth set in a frown. “They don’t think he’s in the area anymore. The FBI has issued a nationwide alert. They’ll find him.”

  “I almost wish they wouldn’t,” Juliana confessed. “But then I think about him getting away with poisoning Rachelle and Scott…”

  “I know.” He rubbed her hands between his to warm them. “But hey, we have three more nights here before I have to go back to the city. Can we just put everything else aside and try to enjoy being here together? For just a few days I don’t want to think about anything but you.” He kissed her. “Can we do that?” He kissed her again. “Can you do that?”

  “I’ll try,” she said, but her heart was burdened by her worries about Escalada and the knowledge that she still had a big decision to make—a decision that was going to hurt one of the men who loved her.

  They did their best to put their stack of troubles aside for the time they had left at the beach house, and for the most part they succeeded. On their last day, they cleaned the house, did a load of sheets and towels, and packed while trying not to think about what was ahead in the next few weeks. Just after midnight on Sunday morning, they were driven back to the lives they put on hold a week ago.

  “What are you thinking about?” Michael asked as they crossed the Bay Bridge.

  Juliana rested against him in the back of the police car. The cops had closed the panel to the backseat to give them some privacy. “I was remembering when you said this bridge looks like a yard sale bridge.”

  “Well, look at it.”

  “I agree with you.”

  He rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  “Michael?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Remember that night when we came back from Florida and you gave me your card and we said good-bye?”

  “Of course I do. Why?”

  “Well, ever since then I’ve wondered: if my car had started, would I have ever seen you again?”

  “A lot’s happened because that car didn’t start, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  He tilted her face up so he could see her. “If your car started and you drove away that night, I think I would’ve suddenly been in desperate need of a haircut. I might’ve lasted a day, maybe two, but that’s about it.”

  “Really?”

  He leaned in to kiss her. “I’ve told you, Juliana, I already knew then that you were going to matter to me. I never could’ve imagined how much, but I already knew. What about you? Do you think you ever would’ve used that card I gave you to get in touch with me?”

  “Truth?”

  He winced and nodded.

  “I don’t think so. I would’ve been afraid to see you again.”

  “Why afraid?”

  “I was such a mess over everything with Jeremy that I probably would’ve gone into my shell and hid out for three months until it was over.”

  “You might’ve been better off. At least you would’ve been safer in your shell.”

  “But I wouldn’t have known you.”

  “That might’ve been better, too.”

  “No. I wouldn’t have missed this time with you for anything. I could never be sorry for loving you.”

  He brought her hand to his chest. “You still make my heart pound, Juliana.”

  “There’s another reason why I would’ve been afraid to call you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I thought you were about the sexiest guy I’d ever met.”

  His face lit up with delight. “Oh, really?”

  She traced his bottom lip with her finger. “Uh huh. If I’d had time to think about it, I definitely would’ve been afraid of you.”

  “I think,” he said, capturing her finger between his teeth, “what you need to be afraid of at this moment is whether or not I’m going to jump you right here in the back of this police car.”

  She pushed him away. “Stop!”

  Michael opened the divider to talk to the cops. “Hey, does this thing have a siren?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Can you use it? I’m suddenly in a big rush to get home.”

  “Michael!” Juliana said with a nervous giggle as the cops laughed. “He’s just kidding.”

  “The hell I am.”

  Chapter 26

  The trial resumed Monday morning with a meeting of the attorneys in the judge’s chambers.

  “Here’s how this is going to go,” Judge Stein said. “The defense motion for a mistrial is denied—”

  “But your honor—” one of the defense attorneys protested.

  “You do not want to interrupt me right now. Your clients are attempting to make a mockery of the judicial system I’ve served for forty years. I’m running low on patience.”

  “Yes, your honor,” the chastened attorney replied.

  “Mr. Maguire, you’re certain Ms. Griffith is unable to appear in court?”

  “She’s been very sick. Her parents and doctors are unwilling to permit it.”

  “In that case, I’m going to allow the prosecution to introduce the videotape of her testimony.” To the defense attorneys he said, “Before you object, and you should feel free to do so in open court, I know you can’t cross-examine videotape. But it’s a sworn statement, so you can take it up with the appellate court. Finally, I want to be sure you’re all clear on one critical thing—there is to be no mention from either side about the attack on Ms. Griffith. Not by inference, reference, or any other means. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, your honor,” the attorneys answered.

  “Mr. Maguire, I’m sure there’ll be a mighty temptation to give the jury the impression that the defendants had something to do with the reason Ms. Griffith is appearing before us on tape rather than in person. Resist it or you’ll not only be looking at a mistrial but a complaint from me to the bar. No matter what you think happened in that Annapolis hotel room, Marco and Steven Benedetti are not on trial for the attack on Rachelle Griffith and the police officers. Not yet anyway and not in my courtroom. Keep your eye on the task at hand.”

  “Yes, your honor,” Michael said.

  “Very well. We call to order in thirty minutes.”

  After they filed out of the judge’s chambers, Micha
el asked for a moment alone with Tom Houlihan. They found a deserted conference room, and Michael closed the door.

  “Everything all right?” Tom asked.

  “No, but before I get into that, thank you for the use of your house. It was a hell of a place to be stuck for a week.”

  “I figured you’d enjoy it. You’ve certainly earned the break. What’s on your mind, Michael?”

  Michael sat down at the conference table, hoping he was about to do the right thing. “Um, Juliana.”

  “She’s a lovely girl.”

  “Yes,” Michael said in almost a whisper. “She is.”

  Tom sat down next to Michael. “What’s wrong?”

  “She can tie Escalada to the trial.”

  “What?” Tom gasped. “How?”

  “Do you remember the day I finally asked for police protection because someone on the street gave my roommate the creeps?”

  Tom’s eyes widened. “Escalada?”

  Michael nodded. “When she saw the videotape from the hotel on the news, she recognized him. She saw him in Newport, too. He was trailing us, apparently waiting for an opportunity to take me out.”

  Tom rubbed his face as he processed it all. “Who else knows this?”

  “No one.”

  “Except Escalada. He knows she can tie him to the trial.”

  The gravity of that statement hung in the air between the two men.

  “What do I do, Tom?” Michael asked with desperation. “I wanted to bring her to court with me this morning so I didn’t have to leave her at home alone.”

  “Her detail is with her, and everyone’s on highest alert. I wish I could tell you not to worry…”

  “If anything happens to her, Tom, I swear to God, if anything happens to her…” Michael’s voice broke.

  Tom put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “She’s more than your roommate, isn’t she?”

  “If I get very lucky, she’s going to be my wife.”

  “Is she the reason you and Paige broke up?”

  Michael shook his head. “I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but this happened after that was over. The timing could’ve been better, but timing is secondary when the right one comes along.”

  Tom studied him for a minute. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Don’t tell anyone about this. No one. We’ll only involve her if there’s no other option. We’ll figure this out after the trial is over. Until then, I want her at home.”

  Michael shook his head. “She’ll never go for that. Her job is too important to her, and she needs the money. But how can I let her go to work and take care of her mother when they’ve got someone out there watching her? Waiting for an opportunity to kill her? How can I do that, Tom?”

  “We’ll double her detail—and yours. We’ll get a home health aide for the mother so Juliana only has to go to work.”

  “We doubled Rachelle’s detail, and look what happened to her.”

  “We’ll do our very best to keep her safe, Michael. I promise.”

  Michael wanted guarantees his boss couldn’t offer. “Okay,” he said, wishing he could be with her every minute to ensure her safety himself.

  “It’s almost over, Michael. Stay tough and stay focused.”

  “Have you ever had a case like this one before?”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  The jury filed in, and once they were settled, Judge Stein apologized for the lengthy delay in the trial. “We appreciate your patience and your sacrifice,” he said. “Mr. Maguire?”

  Michael stood up. “Your honor, the prosecution would like to introduce as evidence the video testimony of Rachelle Griffith.”

  “Objection,” a defense attorney said.

  “Overruled. Please proceed, Mr. Maguire.”

  Michael used a remote to start the video. Watching Rachelle’s animated face was like a punch to his gut as he wondered if the attack would permanently snuff out her sparkle. With the judge’s warning in mind, he fought to keep his emotions off his face to avoid giving the jury any hint of what happened to her. They were going to have to draw their own conclusions as to why the witness was appearing on tape rather than in person. That, coupled with the timing of the lengthy recess right when the prosecution’s star witness was due to testify, was exactly why the defense requested the mistrial.

  The tape was made about two months earlier when Michael brought her to a courtroom to prepare her for the real thing. Remembering her begging him to take her to McDonald’s on the way back to the hotel, he was so glad he had given in despite his worries about her safety. She had been delighted to share a table with him in the restaurant while the police detail surrounded them at other tables.

  Off camera, he could be heard asking the questions that guided her through the telling of her story. As he watched her talk, he could see her affection for him in her eyes and hear it in the tone of her voice. It was something he missed the first time around when he had been engrossed in the asking of questions. Only a man who was blind, deaf, and dumb could have missed the enormous crush she had on him, but sitting in the courtroom fighting to keep his face devoid of emotion, he hurt all the way down to his bones over how totally he let her down by failing to adequately protect her.

  He glanced at the defense table to find Marco Benedetti’s black eyes fixed on him. At just twenty years old, Marco had the eyes of a hardened criminal. Steven, a year older than his brother, had been charged with murder once before but was acquitted. Michael didn’t believe for a minute that he was innocent of the earlier murder. With juvenile rap sheets a mile long, the shootings elevated the brothers’ pattern of petty crime from misdemeanors to multiple felonies.

  Marco’s greasy hair was slicked back, and when his face contorted into a small, evil smile, it took every ounce of control Michael had to remain seated when all he wanted was smash that smile off his smug fucking face. Michael looked around, hoping someone else had seen Benedetti’s smile, but the entire courtroom was riveted to the television.

  I promise you, Rachelle. I promise they won’t get away with it. A fierce burst of rage coursed through Michael. He was so consumed by it he failed to notice the videotape had ended or that the jurors were deeply moved by it.

  “Mr. Maguire?” Judge Stein said.

  Michael didn’t move.

  “Mr. Maguire!”

  Slowly, Michael rose to his feet. “Your honor, the prosecution rests.”

  At home, Juliana sat on Michael’s bed folding laundry. He had called and outlined the plan he and Tom worked out. She wasn’t at all confident that her mother would accept the help of a home health aide, but she wouldn’t have much choice. It was that or nothing since there was no way Juliana could call on Vincent again.

  She had been relieved to hear that she would be able to continue working. Money was always an issue for her, and despite offers of help from both Michael and Jeremy, she didn’t feel right taking money from either of them.

  Thinking of Michael playing the video of Rachelle if the judge allowed it, Juliana couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for him after seeing her so diminished in the hospital. Putting away clothes in his dresser, Juliana found her rent check sitting on top of it and realized he never cashed it. Her heart contracted with overwhelming love for him. He loved her in such an all-consuming way, and he was going to need her to love him just as much tonight after having to sit through that video.

  A thump on the roof startled her out of her thoughts. The wind was whipping, and Michael mentioned the night before that he needed to bring the furniture in off the deck for the winter. A second thump convinced Juliana that one of the lounge chairs on the roof deck had blown over. She deactivated the alarm and went out through the sliding door to investigate. Taking the stairs to the roof deck, she stopped short when all the oxygen left her body in one big whoosh.

  “Don’t you dare scream,” Roberto Escalada said in a low, sinister tone. “If you scream, you’re dead. You got me?”

  Juliana nodded as
terror rippled through her and robbed her of the ability to breathe, let alone scream. She couldn’t have made a sound just then even to save her own life, which was suddenly in grave danger.

  “Turn around and go back down.”

  Juliana couldn’t seem to make her legs move.

  “Now!”

  She turned and on shaking legs went down to the lower deck and opened the door to Michael’s bedroom.

  Escalada followed her inside and slid the door closed behind him. “I thought you and lover boy were never going to come home from wherever they had you stashed.”

  Juliana sat on the edge of the bed and willed herself to keep breathing as she trembled uncontrollably.

  He took a look around the room. “So this is where it all happens, huh? I bet you give it up to that motherfucker Maguire every night, don’t you? You look like the kind of girl who likes to get it on.” He came over to stand in front of her and leaned down so close she felt his breath on her neck. “Maybe I should have me a taste of what he’s been getting.”

  “No,” Juliana whimpered. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Now that’s not very friendly, Juliana, and we’re old friends, aren’t we?” He ran a finger along her neck and jaw. “Is that any way to treat a guest?”

  She moved away from him, and he grabbed her arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “There are cops everywhere,” she whispered.

  He laughed. “Cops haven’t stopped me so far, have they? Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to be halfway across the country by now, but it occurred to me I’d left behind a juicy loose end here in Maryland. You know I can’t have you linking me to the trial, Juliana. My clients wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  Juliana began to cry as she struggled against the iron grip he had on her arm.

  He smacked her hard across the face. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

  Falling back on the bed, Juliana saw stars and was too stunned to cry or even scream as he paced the room. When the haze of fear cleared a bit, she realized the cops wouldn’t be checking on her again for close to an hour. If she was going to get out of this, she was going to have to do it on her own.