Taken by Tuesday
Page 53

A catering truck sat in the drive, a few servers rushed around to unload food and bring it into the house.
“We’re having a party?” Rick leaned over and asked Judy once they stepped out of the limo.
“Samantha’s idea. Says appearances are more important now than ever. I don’t get it, not really . . . but I’m not afraid to say I’m out of my element with everything that’s been going on.”
They held hands walking into the house. A deep sigh left Rick’s lungs as he looked around the familiar walls.
“Neil brought over some of your things,” Judy told him. “Everything is in my room if you wanted to go clean up.” She removed her hat and shook out her dark hair.
“I do need a decent shower.” His eyes ran down her frame. “But don’t change,” he said close to her ear so only she could hear.
A slow, sexy smile lit her face and he turned and walked down the hall.
The large walk-in closet housed many of his clothes, his shoes sat on the floor. Inside the bathroom, his toiletries sat beside Judy’s as if they’d always been there. He should be freaking out . . . completely beside himself, but no. He was out of jail, thanks to his pixie and her quick thinking. And he was married. Yeah, it was a piece of paper with no guarantee it would ever be anything else, but for now he could go with the title of husband and enjoy the ride.
Rick opted for black slacks and a black silk shirt after his shower. Music spilled from the living room and mixed with the sound of familiar voices. He paused at the edge of the great room and leaned against the massive beam framing the space.
Judy was laughing at something her brother had said, a glass of wine in her hand.
He’d just spent three nights in jail with cold walls and inhospitable company . . . he should be thinking about how he was going to stay out of prison.
All he could think of was a different kind of confinement. The kind one voluntarily agreed to. The marriage kind.
For two nights he’d been married . . . sitting in a jail cell without a warm woman . . . but married. Knowing when he managed to get out he’d have a woman waiting for him filled him with something money couldn’t buy. Someone was out there waiting for him . . . wanting him. He drew in a breath now, watching his wife without her knowing, and tried to remember that she married him to keep him out of jail and not for now and forever. Yet it was her suggestion . . . a solution to an immediate problem that plagued them both. Not many women would do that. Maybe if they were in their forties and had signed their name to a marriage certificate more than once, but not a twenty-four-year-old woman who grew up in a small town where marriage was the pinnacle of life.
Utah married him . . . signed her name long before he had.
He knew the moment she sensed him. Zach was talking and Karen stood beside him waving her hands, finishing her husband’s sentences. Judy tilted her head to the side and then slowly leveled her gaze to his.
Zach spoke to the back of her head; at some point Karen nudged him and directed his attention across the room.
Judy glanced back at her brother for less than a second and then moved across the crowded room to him.
If being married meant owning this feeling his entire life, he was in. All-in. This he could get used to.
“Feel better?” Judy asked when she walked to his side.
He laughed. “Prison showers . . .”
She cocked her head. “You didn’t drop the soap, did you?”
Laughter exploded from his lips, catching the attention of everyone around them. “I thought you were from a small town. What do you know about prison soap dropping?”
“Hey! I watch TV.”
He pulled her close, dropped his lips to hers as if he had the right.
When the kiss went for longer than socially necessary, Meg shoved in. “Save it for later, kids. You have company.”
Rick growled.
Judy broke their kiss and slid her arm around his waist.
Neil placed a beer in his hand and someone handed him a plate of food and drew him away from Judy’s side.
“So why are we having a party?” he asked Blake and Neil, who sat with him on the living room sofa.
“According to my wife,” Blake started, “appearances are important and letting the media know we expected you to get out of jail today by hosting a party is the perfect distraction.”
Rick’s head spun. “Parties for distraction?”
“It won’t take long for the media to find out that you married while in jail. If it appears that you married only to get out of jail, there’s no telling what can happen.”
Rick shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. Judy and I married and public opinion doesn’t hold court.”
Blake waved his drink in Rick’s direction. “Except if the media and public deem you innocent, it will be much harder for a trial of your peers to ever convict you. Therefore, a seemingly happy celebration between you and your new bride will go over well with the adoring viewers of the evening news and magazines. It’s brilliant, really.”
Rick had known Blake for a couple of years and seldom heard the British accent from his lips . . . tonight he did.
“The only way to really clear my name is to find the guy who attacked Judy.” Rick looked at Neil. “Are we any closer to finding him?”
His friend shook his head. “I called Dean earlier.” Dean was a friend in the police department. “All eyes were directed at Judy. If you were with her those eyes were on you as well.”
“If Raskin and Perozo think I’m the bad guy, why wouldn’t they have been watching me? How is it they didn’t know I wasn’t near the woman in the second attack?”
“Eliza,” Blake answered.
“Excuse me?” Rick had met Eliza and Carter, the first lady and governor of the state of California, on many occasions, but their names weren’t ones he expected to hear in this conversation.
“Eliza asked that if extra eyes were following this case, they be on Judy. She has a huge soft spot for the victims. Feels the attention needs to be on people like Judy and not on not yet convicted felons.”
Neil picked up where Blake let off in the explanation. “The police department hardly has the funds to keep detectives on cases . . . making sure any extra help watched Judy and not you was an easy request.”
“Easy for the governor’s wife to request,” Rick said.
“Only now we need to follow your path on the day the woman was murdered.”
All this play-by-play of his life was a huge pain in the ass. “I grabbed a cup of coffee from the café outside Judy’s office and left. I went home and caught up on some sleep.”