Taken by Tuesday

Chapter Twenty-One



The media attention spread from the courtroom and into the foyer. Outside the building, cameras were set up and ready for action.

“Can you believe this?” Meg asked, pointing to the chaos outside.

“Slow news day.”

“I don’t know about that. I overheard a reporter saying that Michael Wolfe’s family’s drama is more entertaining than his.”

“They wouldn’t even be watching me if not for Mike,” Judy reminded her friend.

Gwen stood beside Karen and lifted her regal chin. “I wouldn’t bet money on that. The camera loves you and the media has been known for making people famous just for being. Small-town girl roughed up in the big city . . . the police go after her bodyguard boyfriend. Small-town girl marries the bodyguard to protect him? The media will catch hold of that and ask for the movie rights. Cameras will be everywhere for quite some time.”

Karen agreed with a nod. “I’m afraid Gwen’s right.”

Judy tilted her head far enough to shield her face from the cameras outside the building. “Having all these cameras on us might not be such a bad thing.”

“How’s that?” Meg asked.

“I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that criminals like to gloat . . . that they stand in the crowd and watch the attention from the outside for some kind of pleasure.”

The four of them all took that moment to look out the windows in silence.

Neil walked up with Zach at his side. “Rick will be out in less than five minutes,” Neil said.

When none of them responded to his comment, he followed their stare. “What?”

“Darling?” Gwen said. “What are the chances the man responsible for all of this is out in that crowd . . . watching?”

Now all six of them were staring.

Neil broke away first, tilted his head toward the mic in his ear, and started giving orders. Judy didn’t hear them, but she could guess they were about her observation.

The media behind the cameras came to attention, and the buzz in the room changed.

Judy felt his stare, twisted slowly, and mimicked Rick’s smile.

Hollywood movies held nothing on real-life reunion  s. Her heart tripped over itself with the sight of him . . . uncuffed and free. She pushed around her friends and ran as quickly as she could without breaking an ankle, into Rick’s arms.

He was thick, warm, and perfect. He captured her lips and refused to let go. “We’re married,” he said, his lips still moving over hers.

She laughed, felt him laughing with her. “We are.”

Judy felt her legs leave the ground and he spun around like a child with a new toy.

She held her hat on with one hand and clasped on to him with the other. Rick stopped spinning her long enough to kiss her again. On a sigh, she felt his tongue slide along hers for a brief promise of more. He pulled away and just took her in. When his eyes traveled to her hat, his smile offered a second set of dimples. “I knew you were ballsy, Utah . . . but hot damn.”

“I felt rebellious.”

“Love the red.”

Red was quickly becoming her favorite color. He kept a protective hand on her waist and turned toward his friends.

After shaking hands and thanking everyone for being there, Neil coordinated their exit. Joe Rodden left first, drawing the media’s attention and explaining that there would be no comment at this time. A press conference would be held at a later date.

Uniformed officers met them at the doors. Neil and Zach pushed through first, Gwen and Karen right behind them. Rick held on to her and Meg looped an arm through hers and walked tall beside her.

The media clamored for attention. “Mr. Evans? Rick? Is it true . . .” Microphones were shoved past the police, everyone looking for a sound bite. Judy kept hold of her husband and her friend and kept walking forward.

“Miss Gardner, is it true you’re sleeping with the enemy?” Judy wasn’t even sure which reporter asked the question, but she knew Rick heard it because his grip became harder, his pace faster.

The limo was in sight, the door to the back open, and Karen was slipping inside right behind Gwen. Someone gave her head a slight nudge as she climbed in the car. Neil was the last to get in, and the driver pulled away from the curb the moment the door shut.

“What a zoo,” Karen stated for all of them.

Rick laced his fingers with Judy’s.

Neil lifted his cell to his ear. “Collect as many shots as you can.”

“What’s that about?” Rick asked once Neil disconnected the call.

“The ladies pointed out something we might have overlooked.”

“Oh, yeah . . . what’s that?”

“This guy might be watching all this from close by. Blending in the crowd to catch a glimpse of Judy . . . of the circus he created.”

Judy ignored the chill running up her arms. Rick released her fingers and pulled her closer.

“I have Russell and Dennis taking pictures. See if anyone sticks out.”

“We can collect pictures off the Internet of the media coverage, see if there are any familiar faces,” Meg suggested.

“Perhaps hold a press conference in a public place, observe the crowd?” This suggestion came from Gwen.

“No more press today, please,” Judy pleaded.

“As much as you might hate their presence,” Karen said, “the more you draw their attention the more likely this guy will keep his distance.”

Rick agreed. “They’ll act as virtual bodyguards. They’ll watch us, and we’ll be looking for who is watching them.”

“Eventually the media will bore and move on,” Karen reminded them.

“If they do, and we haven’t found this guy yet, I’ll call Mike.” Zach winked at Judy. “If anyone can create some media attention, it’s him.”



They returned to the Beverly Hills home with nearly as much media outside the gates there as were outside the courthouse.

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.”

Neil nudged his knee. “You don’t have to tell us. We know you didn’t have anything to do with the woman’s murder.”

Rick leaned back and closed his eyes. “Clearing my name . . . proving I’m innocent . . . When did this become my daily life?”

Blake glanced behind Rick, letting him know someone was standing there.

He tilted his head back. Judy’s smile wasn’t as big as it had been and Rick knew instantly that she heard him and took his complaint personally. “Hey.”

She handed him the beer she’d obviously brought over for him and attempted a grin. “Thought you might like another one.” He took it, but she didn’t meet his eyes before turning and walking away.

“Excuse me,” he told the guys.

Rick set the beer on the coffee table and moved to catch up with Judy as she headed out the back door.

She was several yards from the house before he caught up to her. “Hey, hold up.”

She kept walking, an audible sniffle proved she was upset.

Stepping in front of her, he cut her off. “Judy,” he said softly.

There were tears on her cheeks, each one a knife to his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“Hey! Don’t.” With one finger, he lifted her chin to bring her eyes to his. “This isn’t your fault.”

“You just spent three nights in jail because of me.”

Rick shook his head but before he could say anything, she kept going.

“You get out of jail by getting married and you still have to prove you’re innocent.” She pulled her chin away from his hand and swiped a finger under her right eye, then her left.

He placed both hands on her arms before running them down to clasp her hands. “I spent three nights in jail because the police are blind to how much I care about you. Getting married to get out so I can be here . . . right here beside you, was brilliant.” He squeezed her hands and bent his knees to meet her eyes. When he finally captured them, he slowly smiled, desperately trying to coax a grin from her. “I’m frustrated . . . but not with you. You’re the only bright light in my day.”

She blinked and shook her head.
     



“C’mere,” he said as he pulled her to a two-person swing that sat on the edge of the yard. Holding one of her hands, he gave the swing a little push. “Remember when we met?”

She didn’t say anything, just gave a half smile.

“I remember that day like it was yesterday. You tried so hard to hide the spark you obviously felt. You were so damn cute I couldn’t get enough.”

Her smile was a little more genuine now and he kept going. “When I came back to LA, Karen told me you went to college in Idaho.”

“Why did she do that?”

“I don’t know . . . a practical joke? You’ll have to ask her sometime. Anyway, I had planned a trip to Idaho, thought maybe we could accidentally meet up. When I mentioned to Michael that I’d be in your neck of the woods, he corrected me. I scrambled and spied and found your address in Washington.”

Her tears had dried up and she seemed genuinely intrigued.

“How come you didn’t call?”

“I don’t really know. I guess I knew you wanted to finish school and a distraction might actually work against me. When Michael told me you were applying for internships here, I just waited. Then I saw you hustling pool and that spark was just as strong as the first day.”

“I don’t hustle pool,” she denied with a grin.

He released her hand only to put his arm over her shoulders and pull her closer.

“The denomination of the money earned doesn’t define a hustle . . . knowing you can kick someone’s ass in the game and betting makes it a hustle.”

He sighed and when Judy’s head hit his shoulder, he felt himself starting to relax. “Wanting to date me, hook up, isn’t the same as going to jail and getting married for me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “We definitely get a nomination for craziest dating dance ever . . . but in light of everything that’s happened I wouldn’t change it. So if I’m frustrated, or you’re frustrated, we need to talk about it and not assume we’re upset with each other. With the serious nature of everything going on, we need to be open and honest. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

This was good.

“Right now I’m really frustrated,” he told her.

“Oh?”

“Yeah . . . we have a house full of people celebrating us and all I really want to do is unwrap that red dress and see the color of your panties.”