Trapped by Revenge: A Shelby Nichols Adventure (15 page)

Chris smiled, then started to chuckle. “He sure had you pegged for a bad person, didn’t he?”

“Yes he did. He was kind of a jerk.” Just saying that made me feel better. I’d had a bad experience when I was a kid when my pastor had stopped his sermon to tell me to stop talking to my friend. He’d said it in front of the whole congregation, and I was ashamed, but it also made me angry. I remember not being able to shake his hand for a whole year.

Needless to say, I didn’t like getting singled out in church much, especially when I tried to be a good person. Although I could probably do better at the swearing part, and maybe the lying part too, plus in reality, I had cheated at poker and taken all that money. So maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought.

Chris glanced at me, picking up that I was troubled. “He was a jerk, and I hope he didn’t upset you too much. It made me mad that he singled you out when he doesn’t know a thing about you. You’re a wonderful person, always trying to help everybody, even when they don’t deserve it. So you have no reason to feel bad.”

I sent a warm smile his way. How did he always know what to say to make me feel better?

“You sure set him back with the ‘worth of souls’ part too,” he continued. “That was brilliant.”

This time my smile reached my eyes. “Yeah, that was good, huh?” he reached over and squeezed my hand, letting his love flow over me. It did something to my heart, easily taking away all the hurt the judge’s words had caused.

We drove the rest of the way home in companionable silence. Both lost in thoughts of what to do next. I had no clue, and since I hadn’t heard from Billie or Uncle Joey all day, I worried if they had made any progress. I was also disappointed. I really thought this judge would be the one. Now all I had left to hope for was that Dimples would find something in Killpack’s files that would tie him to a judge. There didn’t seem to be any other options left. A shiver of dread passed over me that if we didn’t figure this out soon, I really could end up in jail.

Chapter 10

I woke the next morning with a headache from a bad sleep. My dreams had been filled with frustration, and it felt like I’d spent the night searching for something that was just out of reach while trying not to get burned by hell-fire and a laughing devil who suspiciously looked a little bit like Uncle Joey.

Right before Chris left for work, he pulled me into his arms. “I’m going find out if Jim’s attorneys filed a stay of execution or made an appeal of some kind. If not, maybe there’s something I can do to help.”

“That’s a great idea. Let me know what you find out.”

I got my kids out the door and just wanted to go back to bed. Knowing that wouldn’t solve my problems, I took a quick shower and got ready for the day. A stray thought that maybe I should run away to South America started to sound like a good idea. I could change my name to Nikki Shelverstien and dye my hair a rich dark brunette. I could be a maid at a high-class hotel and pretend I didn’t speak Spanish or English so everyone would leave me alone. Once my name was cleared, I could come back home, and never have to spend a day, an hour, or even a minute in jail.

The ringing phone brought me out of my reverie, and I hurried to the kitchen to answer it. “Hello?”

“Shelby,” Uncle Joey said. “How did it go last night?”

“He’s not the one,” I answered.

“Damn,” he sputtered. “I thought for sure it was going to be him.”

“Yeah, me too.” I sighed. “But I did get you out of going to his church.”

“Oh? How did you do that?”

“I just told him you were coming to mine.”

“Very good, Shelby,” he said. “I’m impressed that you could work out a deal with him. He’s not a very flexible man. So you really want me to come to your church, huh? What time does it start?”

“What? No… I mean…” Soft chuckling came from him, and I relaxed. “Oh, you’re just teasing me, right?”

“Maybe,” he snorted. “I guess you’ll have to talk to me in person to find out.”

“Ha-ha,” I said.

“Why don’t you come to the office and tell me what happened anyway. I’m sure I’d love to hear it. I also have some information I want to share with you. It might be the break we’re looking for.”

“Really?” My heart skipped a beat. “Sure, I’ll come. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there.”

I hustled to get out the door and entered Uncle Joey’s office in record time, mostly because I just put on the jeans and designer tee-shirt from the night before. Jackie smiled encouragingly when I got there. She thought I looked better than the last time she’d seen me, and she knew Uncle Joey had some good news, so that should help me even more. I caught my breath and sent her a dazzling smile. She’d just made my day. Eager to hear the good news, I barely said hello to her before I charged down the hall to Uncle Joey’s office.

I knocked before stepping in, a happy smile on my face. “What’s the good news?” I asked, startling a smile out of Uncle Joey.

Uncle Joey exchanged glances with Ramos, and I got the definite impression that the news was good, but also had a liberal sprinkling of bad on top. I plopped down in the chair beside Ramos and braced myself for more disappointment.

“Well,” Uncle Joey began. “You’re right. It is good news.” He was thinking it was mostly good for him, since it took him out of the investigation. “My informant with the police went through Killpack’s files and found a file with my name on it in the closed cases box. Luckily, he took it before anyone else saw it.” He was thinking it had cost him a bundle, but it was worth the money.

“That’s good,” I said. “What was in it?”

“Here,” he said, pushing the manila folder on his desk toward me. “See for yourself.”

I opened the file to find an eight by ten glossy photo of me exiting Uncle Joey’s plane with Ramos. It was from the day we came back from Orlando. Several more photos came after that, all showing different angles of Ramos and me. The last photo was a picture of Uncle Joey giving me a quick hug before we all piled into the limo.

“Is that it?” I asked, slightly disappointed. How could this be good news? “I mean, it’s good that you got the file before the police saw it, but how does it help me?”

“Because of this,” Uncle Joey answered, holding up a piece of paper. “It’s an invoice. It says it was paid in full, so these must be copies of the originals he gave to the person who wanted the photos.”

“Does it have a name on it?” I asked, my heart picking up speed. He shook his head and handed it to me. I searched the document and my hopes fell. “Damn! Why isn’t the name on here?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But there’s an invoice number. Maybe he kept track of the payments on his computer or in a little black book or something. The information’s got to be somewhere.”

I slouched in my chair again and sighed. “But where? These were obviously meant for the judge, and we still don’t know who he is.”

“There is something you overlooked,” Uncle Joey said, pointing toward the invoice. He had my complete attention, and I jerked up straight to see it. “At the bottom of the page right there is his secretary’s signature.”

I scanned over the signature. “Jordan Monson?” I asked. I thought back to the day I found Killpack. “That’s not the secretary who was there when Killpack was murdered. I distinctly remember her saying she’d only been there a week or two, and this is long before that.”

“So maybe this secretary would know something,” Uncle Joey said. “All you have to do is find her and ask a few questions.”

“That’s right,” I said. “But how do we find her?”

“I already have.” Uncle Joey smiled. He was thinking he’d pulled one over on me, although technically, it was Jackie who’d found her. “Jackie called her just before you got here and she’s expecting you and Ramos to stop by.”

“Wow! That’s great!” I jumped up. “Let’s go.”

“What about last night?” Uncle Joey asked. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”

“Sure,” I said, deciding to give him the shortened version. “We got there, I told him you sent me, he thought I was a bad person and preached about getting out of the clutches of the devil, meaning you. Then, he basically told me I was going to hell unless I changed my ways. After class, I told him I was trying to save your soul, so you were coming to my church from now on, and that was that. I mean, what could he say? I shut him up good.”

“Yes,” Uncle Joey said, a little amazed at my audacity. “I can see that.”

“So I have to ask,” I continued. “Do you honestly think the judge Killpack thought about was really a judge? Or was he just speaking figuratively? Is there anyone in town who uses “The Judge” as his moniker?”

“Not that I know of,” Uncle Joey said. “Ramos, have you ever heard that?”

“No,” Ramos said. “And I would know.” He was thinking that when he asked about what was going on in this city, people told him right away. They didn’t even hesitate. Must be his considerable amount of charm and charisma.

“Okay, right.” I smiled. “Can we go now?”

“Sure,” Ramos said. He followed me out the door with Uncle Joey behind.

Jackie handed Ramos the address, complete with instructions on how to find Jordan’s house. “She broke her leg about a month ago in an accident,” Jackie said. “So she’s been recovering at home. Just so you know, she’ll probably talk your ear off. After three weeks of bed rest, it sounds like she’s pretty bored.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I said.

“You’ll need to call her when you get there,” Jackie continued. “She said the door’s open, but she can’t get up from the sofa to answer it.”

“Got it,” I said, and took the phone number she handed me. “Thanks.”

Ramos and I got on the elevator, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Considerable amount of charm and charisma?”

Ramos smiled. “I thought you’d like that. Besides, isn’t that what you think about me?”

“Not hardly,” I said.

“What do you think then?” he asked, pinning his smoldering gaze on me.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I swallowed. “I’m not telling! Now stop that.”

He smiled like he’d won a prize or something. “Good to know.” He was thinking he liked that he frazzled me, since it helped relieve some of the sexual tension broiling between us. I had gotten under his skin, and it was comforting to know he wasn’t alone with this feeling. The elevator doors opened and I hurried out, hardly aware of where I was going.

“My car’s this way,” Ramos called, chuckling.

I stopped in my tracks and turned to follow him in the opposite direction, grateful he’d moved ahead and couldn’t see how flushed my face was. I needed to get used to him and his teasing. Or I needed to put up my shields so he didn’t rattle me so much. Or maybe I just needed to play along, and not take him so seriously. He knew nothing could happen between us, so half the time he had to be kidding, right?

His car was parked beside his motorcycle, and I couldn’t help sighing. Nor could I stop the lingering glance of pure desire as I walked by.

“You want to take the bike?” he asked. “I’ve got the extra gear in my trunk.”

“Really?” I blurted. “Do you have a smaller helmet?”

“Uh-huh.”

That settled it, and I nodded like a little kid on Christmas. The last time I rode with him, the helmet I wore was so big I couldn’t see where we were going. It kind of ruined the ride, so this was a real treat. I had also worn a skirt back then, but not today. That meant I could enjoy the ride this time. Riding behind him also meant that I wouldn’t have to carry on a conversation, since conversing with Ramos was sometimes uncomfortable. The thought that I would also get to put my arms around him hadn’t even crossed my mind. Well, maybe a little, but I tried not to think about it too hard.

He handed me the extra helmet from the trunk and helped me put it on. He even snapped the strap under my chin for me. It fit like it was mine, and I tried not to think about who else had worn it.

“I have an extra jacket in here,” he said. “Do you want it?” He was thinking it could get cold, and I might be glad to have it on.

“Sure,” I said, even though I didn’t want to wear some other woman’s jacket. It was hard to for me to picture another woman riding behind Ramos. How crazy was that? He handed me a lightweight, black leather jacket that was obviously his. Relieved, I shrugged it on and pushed the sleeves up past my elbows so I could stick my hands out. It was huge on me, but I didn’t mind in the least. It was soft and supple and smelled of leather, with the added musky scent that was all Ramos. I liked it a lot. After making sure my long hair was carefully tucked inside the collar, I zipped it up.

“Ready?” he asked. He slipped on his leather gloves, and I noticed that his leather jacket fit him like a second skin, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

“Yes!” I said, licking my lips. It was hard to contain my excitement, and if I were honest it had more to do with riding behind Ramos than it did with riding the bike. I probably shouldn’t ride with him. After all, if Chris found out, he’d hate it. On the other hand, if I were going to jail, this might be the last chance I ever got, and I would regret not taking this moment and enjoying it.

He lowered the foot pedals for me and started up the bike, then held out a hand to help me get on behind him. I had to admit it was a lot easier getting on in pants, and I slid behind him in one smooth motion like I was a regular biker chick. As we roared out of the parking garage, I couldn’t stop the huge grin or the thrill of excitement that raced through my veins. I couldn’t help thinking how jealous Holly would be to see me now, and looked forward to telling her all about it. Mostly because whether she believed me or not, I knew she’d appreciate the hot motorcycle.

We drove through the city and headed north toward a residential neighborhood. I clutched Ramos around the waist and enjoyed the cool breeze and smooth ride. I got into the groove of leaning with him when we went around corners, and by the time we pulled into a cul-de-sac where the secretary lived, I felt like I was a real pro.

I clutched Ramos’ arm to get off the bike, feeling the hardness of pure muscle under my hand. As he followed suit, I unzipped the jacket and took my phone out of my purse to call the number. Jordan answered right away, and after telling her who I was, she told us to come right in. Leaving our helmets on the bike, we walked to the front door and pushed it open.

“Hello,” I said, greeting Jordan. Not wanting to intimidate her, Ramos stood just inside the door while I came further into the living room. She was reclining on the couch in front of the window. Her leg was in a cast and propped up on a bunch of pillows. Her fresh face and small frame put her a lot younger than I had imagined, and I guessed her age to be in about the mid-twenty range. Lots of books, magazines, a laptop, and a tray with crackers and a large plastic mug surrounded her.

“Come in,” she said, raising herself to sit up a little straighter. “Sorry I can’t get up, but I slipped and fell down some stairs about a month ago. It was a real nasty fall. My boyfriend’s been helping me, but he’s at work. They had to put all kinds of pins and bolts in my bones to hold my leg together, but they say I’ll make a full recovery. Unfortunately, I’m still looking at about three months of down time.” She was bored silly and grateful to have someone to talk to.