Authors: Lisa Renee Jones
The Walker Brothers Trilogy
Book Two:
DANGEROUS SECRETS
By Lisa Renee Jones
Copyright 2012 by
Book 1: Hot Secrets - OUT NOW!
Cover by Steena Holmes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at
[email protected]
.
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
www.lisareneejones.com
.
“Greed is a stronger force than gravity.”
Chapter One
“He has nasty little habits,” Elizabeth Moore said with a dramatic pause before adding, “both in and out of the bedroom. Things people wouldn’t expect from a judge.”
Julie Harrison fixed her client’s soon to be ex-wife in an unblinking stare from across her desk, intentionally showing no reaction. “Mrs. Moore, you really shouldn’t be here. I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I represent your husband in this divorce and I’m bound by certain laws and preset boundaries that I simply don’t have the liberty to ignore.”
“I’m not surprised he chose you as his attorney,” she replied pointedly. “He has a thing for blondes, you know.” Her gaze crudely raked Julie’s rather voluptuous figure.
There was a silent ‘bimbo’ inference, and it grated on Julie’s nerves, reminding her a little too much of her Vegas showgirl mother and four stepfathers. She’d heard a lot of those inferences in law school, and they’d hurt, but they’d also motivated her to work hard and prove herself. She accepted that she’d never have the Audrey Hepburn elegance that Elizabeth Moore personified years before. Mostly. Once in a blue moon though, she still burned for the instant respect a woman like Mrs. Moore claimed when she entered a room, rather than, well, whatever it was Julie herself evoked in people.
“As I’ve said, Mrs. Moore,” Julie pressed, trying to direct their conversation to an end, “I think it would be best if you have your attorney contact me. I shouldn’t have agreed to see you. When you said this was a matter of life and death, I was concerned for everyone’s safety.”
“I believe you’ll understand what I meant when I finish explaining why I’m here.” Mrs. Moore leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m also certain you’ll agree it’s best kept between the two of us. See, I’m prepared to make my husband’s nasty little habits public if that’s what it takes to get a fair shake in this divorce.”
Alarm bells went off at the shockingly blatant threat, especially considering Elizabeth’s reputation as a charming woman involved in a variety of charitable organizations. Nothing about this visit fit that reputation, but, much to Julie’s disapproval, Judge Moore had cut off all his wife’s credit cards and cash flow. Not only was Elizabeth Moore in a bad position, but her actions drove home that desperation was never smart nor pretty.
“Threatening a sex scandal seems a bit beneath you,” Julie warned softly, hating to see what the judge was bringing out in her, trying to bring her back to reason.
Elizabeth let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, honey, his sexual preferences might be kinky, but they are nothing compared to some of his other, shall we say, addictions.”
Her words lingered in the air for several silent moments, inviting scary prospects to run through Julie’s mind.
Against her better judgment, she said, “I’m listening.”
A look of triumph settled on Elizabeth’s face. “As you well know, he’s an art collector. He doesn’t make all of his pieces public. Some of it is kept underground.“ She paused for obvious effect. “In a hidden vault.” A slow smile turned up the corners of Elizabeth’s delicate mouth. “There are people who would be very interested in some of the items my husband has in his keeping. It could cause him quite a bit of trouble.”
“What exactly are you saying?” Julie asked, afraid of what the answer was going to be. Pornography, or worse even, child pornography? Please say it isn’t so, she thought.
Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Tell him two can play dirty. It’s best you know nothing more because, while I don’t like you, Ms. Harrison, I don’t want you to end up dead.” With that she turned and headed toward the door.
“Elizabeth,” Julie called out, not wanting to seem too anxious as she barely kept herself in her seat.
Elizabeth turned. “Yes?”
“If it’s that dangerous for me to know whatever this secret is, aren’t you putting yourself in danger by issuing this threat?”
“My husband won’t kill me,” she said. “He won’t kill you, either. But there are others who’ll kill us all if they find out
what he’s hiding. He won’t expect this from me. I’ve been weak where he’s concerned. Now that I’ve proven I’m not, he won’t risk me taking this further. He’ll give me what I want.” She gave a nod. “Goodbye, Ms. Harrison.”
Julie watched her leave, stunned by just how nasty this had gotten, then rotated her chair to take in the view from her fifteenth floor downtown Manhattan window. “What in the heck just happened?” she mumbled to the empty room. And why oh why did it have to happen now. Tomorrow, she would leave for Chicago to negotiate the divorce settlement for one of her many professional athlete clients. A few days later, her best friend, Lauren Reynolds, was getting married, and she was maid of honor. Complications were not well-timed.
Sighing, she punched the button on her intercom. “Gina,” she said calling her assistant for the past six months. “Can you please track down Judge Moore?”
“Of course,” Gina said promptly. She was always prompt. Prickly but efficient, and that was what mattered.
Julie reached for her coffee cup, and while she wasn’t usually a drinker, she wished she had some hard stuff right now. At nine o’clock in the morning she was wishing for alcohol. What did that say about her life? She didn’t know what was wrong with her lately, but she had this sense of dissatisfaction that belied her growing high profile client list that should have her reveling in success. Maybe she should consider joining the small firm Lauren had left the District Attorney’s office for. The firm she was with wasn’t a powerhouse, but it wasn’t an ant farm either. Still, she was nearly thirty now, and had to think about her future. After seven years here, she couldn’t say they’d helped her career. She’d been hired to handle corporate law, but they’d thrown her divorce cases no one had wanted and she’d made it work.
Her intercom buzzed. “The judge is on two.”
“Got it,” Julie said, punching the button before lifting the receiver to her ear. “Judge?”
He made an irritated noise. “I’m heading into court, Julie. What’s so important it couldn’t wait?”
Julie bit back the retort that threatened to slip out, managing an unaffected voice. “Your wife stopped by.”
“Oh, well hell,” he grumbled. “Surely this can wait.”
“I don’t know, Judge, you tell me. She seems to think she has some information you don’t want leaked. Her exact words were ‘I can play dirty too’.”
There was a pregnant silence.
“Go on,” he said a little too quietly.
Intentionally vague, Julie said, “She mentioned artwork.”
Silence, thick, and full of implications filtered through the phone line.
He cleared his throat. “Exactly what did she say about the subject?”
Not good, Julie thought. “She seems to think you have some pieces you don’t want anyone to know about,” Julie offered in a neutral tone as she tapped her pencil on her oak desktop.
“Such as?” he asked a pinch of urgency slipping into his tone.
“She wouldn’t say,” Julie told him in a voice that was deceptively light. ”Seemed to think I was better off not knowing.”
Silence again. He was having a quiet panic attack, Julie realized with concern.
He cleared his throat again. Julie waited; still nothing. “Judge?”
“It’s not a problem,” he assured her in a very tight voice. “There are thieves who will go to great lengths to get their hands on highly sought after art. I am always quite nervous about some of my holdings becoming targets. I will have the pieces in question put somewhere safe. Give me forty-eight hours, and then call her bluff.”
“It’s not a bluff if you think she’ll act on it,” Julie argued. “And if you need forty-eight hours, that tells me you think she might. Judge, I don’t want to offend you but,” she paused to consider phrasing and decided to be direct. “I need to be sure there is nothing going on I wouldn’t want to be involved with.”
He laughed, but it sounded forced. “I’m a judge for God’s sake. Give me some credit. I have masterpieces that certain collectors would literally kill for. I don’t want those pieces of my collection made public. Now do as I say, and call her bluff.”
Bluff. There was that word again that sat all kinds of wrong in her mind. “All right, Judge. Consider it done.”
Julie’s stomach churned with a sense of dread. Nothing about this situation was done. Her gut said that this was going someplace very bad, very quickly.
Chicago O’ Hare Airport
Wednesday night, two days later
Ten minutes. That was all Julie had to get to her gate and board. Considering the snowstorm blasting across the state, she couldn’t afford to miss it, as it might well be the last plane out for days. And considering she was in charge of Lauren’s rehearsal dinner Friday night, that would be bad. Really, really bad. That frightened her enough to send Julie into a half-run. She shouldn’t have agreed to travel this close to the wedding.
She eyed the gate numbers, spotting seven, when she needed eleven. She fought to ignore the pinch of her toes in the black three-inch heels that matched her safe black travel dress, cringing at the sight of huge snowflakes outside the wall of windows to her left. They seemed to fall at an accelerated speed while she watched. Her gaze lifted to the monitors and she cringed yet again at the flashing red with the word ‘cancelled’ next to a great number of flights.
“Please don’t let mine be one of them,” she murmured, afraid to stop to check for fear seconds could cost her the seat with her name attached.
Arriving at her gate, the empty waiting room seats emphasised just how late she was for boarding. The doors to the entry ramp were still open, and that meant she’d made it on time.