The Littlest Witness. Jane M. Choate
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“You’re making a mistake, taking Tommy away from here. This is the only place he’s been safe since it happened.” Frustration and worry sharpened a man’s cultured voice. Alfred Kruise, she guessed.
“Last night proved that it’s not safe.” The words, though quietly spoken, held the unmistakable ring of authority, and she recognized the voice of the man who had answered the door.
“We’ll tighten up security.” The first voice grew more strident with each word.
“It’s already settled. Tommy comes with me.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing. Tommy is Irene’s and my godson. We would do anything to protect him. Anything.” A pause, followed by a tremulous sigh. “Michael and Grace were family.”
“Maybe so, but I’m his guardian and I’m not leaving him here. I’ve already lost my brother and his wife. I’m not about to lose Tommy, too.”
“Have it your way. I only pray you don’t live to regret it.” The slam of a door emphasized the other man’s displeasure.
The man returned to Shelley. “I’m Caleb Judd.” He gestured to the slightly built boy with dark hair and eyes at his side. “My nephew, Tommy.” At Judd’s nod, Tommy settled in a corner and pulled a couple of miniature cars from his pocket.
“Shelley Rabb.”
Accustomed to sizing people up, Shelley studied S&J Security Protection’s newest client. In a black T-shirt, dark jeans and Frye combat boots, he looked dangerous and deadly. In her job, she’d come across plenty of influential men, men who wielded the kind of power that came with money and connections and political clout. Caleb Judd carried a different kind of power, the kind that came from within. There was an underlying current of energy to him, and though banked now, that raw force was evident in how he moved and the clipped cadence of his speech.
His posture shouted his military background, as did his closely cropped hair. The tanned, weathered face had the hard lines of a man who did not spend his days in the office or the gym. And his battle-ready stance and sharp gaze were so like her brother, Jake’s, that she almost did a double take.
Judd looked as out of place as she felt in the sumptuous surroundings. Score one for him.
“Thanks for coming.” His words sounded as though he’d just gargled with cut glass, and Shelley winced at the pain underscoring them.
“Thank me when I’ve done something.”
Shelley chose her clients carefully. S&J—her and Jake’s initials—was her company. The clients didn’t have to be wealthy, but they did have to be honest. At least with her. A recent client had been megarich, but he hadn’t been trustworthy. She’d returned his retainer and suggested he find someone whose ethics were as challenged as his own.
The tightening of Judd’s jaw and the impatient tapping of boots on the hardwood floor reminded her that he was Delta, a man who understood action. Still, she had a duty to him, as a client, and to herself, to make certain she could handle the job.
On a silent sigh, she acknowledged she was only postponing the inevitable. Of course she’d take the job. She didn’t have a choice.
She looked into his blue eyes and resisted the urge to flinch when she saw nothing but ragged grief staring back at her. She supposed he might be considered attractive if his mouth were smiling. As it was, it was a hard line that compressed his lips together.
It looked as though he was holding himself together just as tightly. Tension radiated from him in palpable waves. From the harsh cast of his face and sleep-deprived features, he’d obviously gone through unspeakable pain since learning of the murders. But pain was not the only thing she read in his gaze. There was guilt, as well. She ought to know. She saw it every time she stared at herself in the mirror.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”
“Can you?” Judd retorted. “Do you know what it is to lose a brother?”
“I came close with Jake,” she said, unoffended. “There were times when I didn’t know if he would make it back.”
Judd scrubbed a hand over his face, the rasping sound drawing her attention to the whiskers that darkened his jaw. She watched as he struggled to temper his voice. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Don’t apologize. We’ve got more important things to discuss.”
“Like how I should have been there for him.” Self-loathing coated his voice. “I told Michael he was in over his head. If he’d listened...if I had been there...”
She nodded to herself, confirming her earlier supposition that he was suffering from a crippling case of guilt. She didn’t try to talk him out of it. Guilt exacted its own price in its own time.
Movements she suspected were normally smooth and economical were jerky, awkward, as though he didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline instigated by fear and worry. “Jake told you why I need help?”
After making sure that the little boy wasn’t within earshot, she turned back to Judd and answered in a low voice, “He said your brother and his wife had been killed and that you were attacked last night.”
Other than the tightening of his mouth, Judd failed to react to the bald recitation of facts. He was probably in shock. The man had lost his brother and sister-in-law, had taken on the care of his nephew and had faced down a probable assassin, all within the space of a few days.
“You probably have the same questions I do,” she said. “Was someone trying to kill you? Or just scare you off? What makes you a target?”
Judd didn’t immediately answer. His gaze strayed to Tommy, who was still crouched on the floor, playing with his miniature cars. Of course his first concern was his nephew.
“I wish I knew.”
Shelley paused. What was she doing, taking on a case that involved a child, a traumatized one at that? Every instinct in her told her that it was a mistake, but Caleb Judd had saved Jake’s life. S&J owed him. She owed him.
And she always paid her debts.
Honor, plus an unwavering faith, was the cornerstone of how she conducted her life and ran her business.
She knew clients wanted promises that everything would be fine. She longed to give them just that. However, she couldn’t give what she didn’t have. If she’d learned anything in her years as a cop, then as an agent with the Secret Service, it was that life didn’t come with guarantees.
Bad things happened to good people. She ought to know. The nightmare had resurfaced last night, and she’d beaten herself up over it, just as she always did. She’d awakened covered in sweat, guilt-laden and hurting.
She forced that aside and concentrated on Judd, who was rubbing two fingers above his nose as though to relieve a deepening headache.
A soldier’s soldier was how Jake had described Caleb Judd. “The man doesn’t have a single nerve in his body. He’s totally cool no matter what’s going on around him.” Jake didn’t hand out praise easily. If he vouched for Judd, that was good enough for her.
Judd wasn’t looking totally cool now, though, she noted with a wave of compassion. He was beside himself with worry.
“I did some digging on the man your brother was prosecuting,” she said. Upon promising Jake she’d provide security/protection to Caleb and his nephew until Michael and Grace’s killers were caught, she’d crammed for this meeting, wanting to know everything she could find about the case. Caleb nodded impatiently, so Shelley took a deep breath and went on. “Jeremy Saba. He’s never been convicted, never even been indicted. But he stands to go away for a long time if he’s found guilty this time.” Though Shelley had never worked on a RICO case before, she knew enough to understand the seriousness of the