The Veiled Cage (Lady Lawyer Series Romantic Suspense Novels Book 1)

The Veiled Cage

RITA JOHANSEN

The Veiled Cage

Copyrigh
t©
2015 Rita Johansen

All rights reserved. Please respect this autho
r’
s time and hard work in creating this book by not participating in or encouraging piracy of this copyrighted material. Please purchase only authorized editions. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without written permission from the publisher.

Please send permission requests by mail to Rita Johansen, 2168 7th Ave. #14, Anoka, MN 55303, or by email to [email protected].

Thank you.

This is a fiction novel. Names, characters, locations, and events are either the product of the autho
r’
s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business, locations, or events is coincidental. Author does not have any control over or assume responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9907048-8-1

Chapter 1

A roar blasted Susan Combes from her slumber. She felt the bed beside her. Cold. Tugging the blackout shade up to midway, she darted to the window, pushing sandy hair from her face to peer out.

A red sports car gleamed on the driveway behind the third stall.

Susan spun to shove on her blue slippers, and scurried to the bathroom for her robe, as worn as the terrycloth on her feet. She scampered down the stairs, ordering lights on in the living room and then the dining area as she made her way to the kitchen.

The garage door slammed and a broad-shouldered man with glossy black hair entered the kitchen, stopping as he saw Susan
.“
Tracking my movements again? Waiting up for me? You wo
n’
t give me space to breathe.
I’
m working hard and yo
u’
re waiting at the window for me to come home to find out my whereabouts. Paranoid, as well as pathetic
.”
Jerald Combes closed the space between them and looked down at Susan in disgust.

She forced herself to stop wringing her hands, and raised them as she approached her husband
.“
No, Jerry, no. I was
n’
t going to ask anything about it. I wanted to see if yo
u’
d like a nightcap before bed. I know you work hard. I figured it might help you relax. Tha
t’
s all
.
”

“
Pour me a scotch. At least yo
u’
re good for something
.
”

“
Yes, right away
.”
She whirled, knocking over the vodka bottle, catching it before it could topple toward the floor.

“
Clumsy as ever. At least you caught it before it shattered this time. I swear, woman, you break more glass than anyone
I’
ve ever met. Should I serve myself, Spilly? Can you not even manage to pour your husband a drink
?
”

“
No, Jerry, I can do it. See, here it is. Two fingers, just how you like it
.
”

“
I want three
.
”

“
I can fix it
.
”

“
No. Yo
u’
ll probably knock over the scotch next. Your little job does
n’
t even pay enough to replace it. Out of my way, woman
.
”

She skirted to the side
.“
Yes, Jerry. Would you like anything else? I can make you a sandwich
.
”

“
A sandwich
.”
His top lip curled
.“
Is that the best you can do
?
”

“
No, no. I could make you anything. What are you hungry for
?
”

“
Nothing. Get off my back. Let me enjoy my drink
.
”

She tried a different tact
.“
Tha
t’
s a wonderful car, Jerry. Are things going well at work
?
”

“I’
m being well compensated for my skills. About fucking time
.
”

“
You got a raise
?
”

“
Stop interrogating me. Always with the twenty questions. Here, I got you this
.”
He pulled a long box out of his briefcase and tossed it onto the granite countertop.

Susan picked it up and studied it
.“
A carving knife? But Jerry, I have perfectly good knive
s
—”

Jerry slammed his highball glass against the slate counter, and coiled his muscles.

She dropped the box.

“
I fucking give you a gift, and still yo
u’
re not happy. Yo
u’
re ungrateful
.”
He pounded a fist.

She jumped at the bang.

“
I fucking go out of my way to get it for you and all you do is nag me
.”
He grabbed the box
.“
Forget it. I
t’
s going back. I wo
n’
t bother to get you anything again. Wha
t’
s the fucking point
?
”

Susan reached out, ready to retract her hand if he made a sudden move. When he stayed still, she placed it on his arm
.“I’
m sorry, Jerry. I
t’
s wonderful
.”
She took the package back
.“
Says here i
t’
s industria
l
—”

“
Bitch, bitch, bitch. I can never do anything right around here. I do
n’
t even know why I bother to come home at all. Just shut up
.”
He knocked her hand aside as he raised his, and slapped her. Hard
.“
Now yo
u’
ve done it. You kept nagging until I lost my temper
.
”

Susan spun and scattered her terrycloth slippers in her race to the front door. She opened it and bolted out, hurrying over the lawn, letting her robe and her mussed tawny hair stream behind her. Her staccato panting punctuated the soft serenade of a summer night.

Reaching the neighbo
r’
s front door, she pounded
.“
Deanna, open up! Help! H
e’
s coming after me
!
”

Jerald meandered across the yard, hands in his pockets.

“
Hurry! H
e’
s almost here! Let me in
!
”

A curvy brunette opened the door. Her pink silk robe hung open, revealing a matching negligee. Dismissing Susan, Deanna Connelly looked over and called
,“
Hello, Jer. Out for a stroll
?
”

“
Deanna, he hit me. H
e’
s in one of his tempers. I do
n’
t know what h
e’
s going to do. We have to get inside
.
”

Deanna ignored her and smiled at Jerry.

“
Why wo
n’
t you help me
?
”

Jerry started whistling
.“
I
t’
s a beautiful night for a stroll in the moonlight.
I’
d rather be at home having my scotch, but it seems Susan has other plans for me.
I’
m so sorry to disturb you, Dede
.”
He climbed the steps and eyed Deanna
.“
You look beautiful. Susan could take some pointers from you. Look at her ratty robe
.
”

Deanna gave Susan a cool look, and shifted her attention back to Jerry.

“
Do
n’
t mind her
,”
he said
.“
Sh
e’
s been hysterical since I got home. She does
n’
t understand I have to work late. I raised my voice to get it through her thick skull and she ran off
.”
He cupped the back of Susa
n’
s neck with his left hand and squeezed.

Susan cried out
.“
Stop, Jerry. Yo
u’
re hurting me
.
”

He kept his focus on Deanna
.“
You know how fragile she is, of constitution and mind. Not like you, Dede. I gave her a new kitchen knife, and that was
n’
t good enough. I thought tha
t’
d cheer her up.
I’
ve tried everything. Sh
e’
s been so depressed. She did
n’
t even make it to work on Monday. Could
n’
t find her car remote.
I’
m at my wi
t’
s end with her. But my unstable wife is my responsibility
.
”

Deanna nodded in understanding and gave him a bracing smile.

Susan tried to shake her head, but Jerry tightened his grip. She stared at Deanna, wide-eyed.

Jerry looked at Susan like she was a petulant child
.“
Le
t’
s calm you down and get you to bed. Do
n’
t worry.
I’
m going to help you through this difficult time.
I’
ll take care of you
.
”

Deanna let her robe slip down her shoulder. She feathered her fingertips over her cleavage
.“
Yo
u’
re so sweet, Jer
.”
She eyed Susan with disdain
.“
Yo
u’
re so lucky to have him. You do
n’
t even appreciate what you have right in front of you
.”
Her eyes warmed as she smiled up at Jerald
.“
My husband could learn a thing or two from you
.
”

“I’
m sure he could
.
”

“
Good luck with her, Jer
.
”

“
Good night, Dede
.”
Jerald winked at Deanna as she closed the door. He tightened his hold on his wife and threw her down the steps
.“
Pull another stunt like that and i
t’
ll be your last. Get up, you stupid bitch, and go clean up your mess. Ther
e’
s glass and scotch everywhere because of you
.
”

“
Yes, Jerry. Right away
.”
She made it to her feet, and hurried across the lawn, keeping her back to Jerald as she swiped away tear
s—
gasoline for his fury.
I shoul
d’
ve stayed in bed and minded my own business
, she thought.
The su
n’
s not even up, and
I’
ve gone and wrecked my own birthday.

✧

A curtain of ebony hair concealed her face. Skinny arms wrapped around angular knees. She huddled, wedged into a corner.

Ruby Miller stood in the closet doorway, watching small shoulders shake with sobs.

The girl raised her head. Her toffee skin had an unnatural pallor. Amber eyes glimmered. She whispered
,“
Help me, Ruby. Help me
.
”

Ruby tried to move forward but her legs were locked. She opened her mouth to speak words to comfort, to soothe. No sound emerged. Mute and motionless, she watched red rivulets stream down cheeks still plump from childhood.

Still, Ruby did nothing. Said nothing.

“
See what h
e’
s done. See
!”
The girl released her hands and straightened her legs. A knife protruded from her chest, fastening a red Valentin
e’
s heart. Be mine, it read. Blood spewed from the wound, turning the gir
l’
s white shirt crimson, creeping along the closet floor toward Rub
y’
s conservative raspberry heels. Amber eyes lost focus. The girl toppled bac
k—
looking up yet unseeing. Her hair formed a dark halo around her head.

Ruby awoke with a start, face pressed against a file, right arm numb from its awkward position and her hea
d’
s weight. She shook sensation back into her arm, raked a hand through her choppy hair, and looked down at her wrinkled brown suit pants and cream shirt. Once again, she had
n’
t made it into sleep gear.

Her portable supercomputer sounded agai
n—
the distinguished ringtone sh
e’
d selected for her law firm. Though she judged it early morning by the stillness, the black, she never resented the intrusion. Someone needed her help. And she welcomed the call that had tugged her into the present. Shaking her head, she tried to push back her past, an easier feat when she must stand for her clients.