Beyond A Reasonable Doubt (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Jenna took a moment to catch her breath and jot down some notes. She glanced at the clock. Thank God the closing arguments, verdict, and sentencing had ended early and it was just one o’clock. Even with that, the day was moving too quickly. Clearing Michael’s calendar had taken much longer than necessary simply because his secretary was a nosy bitch. Instead of offering condolences for Michael’s loss, she’d been more interested in how Jenna felt about the trial. Rumors must have been flying fast.

She’d promised Michael she would deal with Jordan, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and call the prison. How do you tell someone over the phone his mother is dead?

She crossed the room and flipped on Michael’s computer. If she were lucky, she’d be able to access Jordan’s file. She pulled up her court.net account and ran a search for Jordan Elkins. Within seconds, she had the complete record. She printed it out, grabbed the pages, and headed for the door. The bus ride to the prison would take at least an hour. She’d have plenty of time to read.

Jenna stared at the wire stretched along the top of the fence. Maximum security. Judge Elkins had taken no chances that his wayward son would escape. She’d been shocked at the sentence when she read the file and even more shocked to find that David Garcia had been the prosecutor. David knew she was dating Michael, but he’d never mentioned the fact that he knew the family.

Jordan Elkins had been nineteen, just starting college with a promising career in marine biology. And where were the psychiatric reports to back up Michael’s claim that Jordan was mentally unstable? He had no priors, so why had Jordan Elkins received a twenty-five-year sentence in a maximum security prison for threatening his father with a gun? At most, he should have gotten a ten-year sentence and then been eligible for parole in two years. The whole thing should have been handled as a domestic violence case, yet David had prosecuted him for threatening a federal judge. Jordan was probably lucky he didn’t get life without parole.

Jenna stood still as a female guard patted her down and searched her purse, taking apart her cell phone. She’d be lucky if it still worked when she left.

“You can go on in.”

“Thank you.” Jenna said.

The sound of the door clanging behind her sent cold chills down her spine. She was beginning to question her sanity in coming here. She didn’t even know Jordan, and he’d spent five years inside those walls. If he hadn’t been unstable when he came, he probably was now.

She followed the guard’s directions and entered a small visitation room. She sat down at a wooden table and clasped her hands, eyes closed as she prayed, “Give me strength, Father.”

“I doubt he’ll hear you in here.”

Jenna opened her eyes, shock and surprise widening them as she stared at the young man entering the room. A guard followed him in and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Standing, she held out her hand but pulled it back, her face flushing, as she noted his chains.

Jordan Elkins wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She’d thought he would resemble Michael, but nothing could have been further from the truth. They were, in fact, total opposites: light and dark. Jordan was at least six foot three, compared to Michael’s six feet. His hair was wavy midnight black, compared to Michael’s shocking blond. The only thing they had in common was the deep brown eyes, yet Jordan’s were still different, more copper colored than brown… and older, shadowed as if his eyes had seen things human eyes should never see.

“I’m sure you didn’t come here just to admire my physique, so what can I do for you?” Jordan grinned at her, flashing white teeth and the most adorable dimples she’d ever seen.

Get a grip, Jenna.
This was no different from the courtroom. All she had to do was take control. “I’m Jenna James, a friend of Michael’s.”

His deep laugh stopped her again, and she clasped her hands together to stop the trembling.

“Friends?”

Jenna met the twinkling brown eyes, her jaw setting. “Yes, friends.”

Jordan sat down across from her and shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine Michael with a female
friend
, but if you say so.”

Jenna stared at the table. She didn’t want to see his face or to be the cause of more shadows in eyes already clouded by years of pain. “There’s been an accident,” she started, her voice low.

Jordan leaned across the table.

“It isn’t Michael.” Jenna raised her head, meeting his concerned eyes, liquid pools of dark amber. She knew she had to finish, and quickly. “It’s your mother, Jordan. There was an accident. She’s dead.”

Jenna watched as a myriad of emotions crossed his handsome face. He pushed back from the table and stood up.

“When?”

“I don’t know. Last night or this morning, I think.”

Jordan stomped toward her, his anger a tangible thing, vibrating in the room as he slammed his hands down on the table.

The guard took a step toward them, but Jenna waved him off. “It’s okay.”

“Where the hell is Michael? Why isn’t he here?”

Jenna glanced at her watch. It was just four o’clock. “He’s on his way to Kentucky to be with your father.” Jenna struggled to find words to console him. “He wanted to come, but there wasn’t time. Your father planned a service in Kentucky for this evening. He’s gone to the service. I guess after that, they’ll fly back here for the interment tomorrow evening at nine.”

Jordan started to pace, chains clanking around his ankles and hands. “You don’t really know my brother well, do you?”

Jenna frowned. The truth was she really didn’t, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Jordan. “Yes, I do. He wanted to come, Jordan. It’s just… your father needed him, and well, there wasn’t time. I’m sorry.”

Jordan stopped pacing, turned, and studied her face, her eyes, and her trembling hands, clasped on the table. “You’re still in the golden boy stage. He hasn’t given you the ‘woman’s place’ speech yet, has he?”

He’d hit a nerve, one she’d been struggling with all day. “I came here to tell you about your mother’s death. Let’s leave Michael out of it.”

“Get me out of here.”

Jenna shook her head. “Even if I could, there isn’t time. Maybe once they’re back from Kentucky, Michael can get you out before the final interment.”

“That’s never gonna happen, Miss James. Once the body leaves Kentucky, it will be destroyed by one of my father’s friends here. What if you had some help?”

Jenna hesitated, afraid to give him hope. “Maybe, but it would have to be pretty powerful help.”

Jordan came back to the table and sat down. “Call Kamela Beaumont. She can help.”

Jenna tried not to show it, but she was truly impressed. You couldn’t work in Texas without feeling the political influence of Clifford Beaumont at some point in time. “Are you talking about Clifford Beaumont’s daughter?”

Jordan nodded.

She rolled the information around in her head, tossing ideas aside and plotting her opening argument. “They have the governor’s ear and the president’s ear. It might work.” She frowned and spread her hands. “If she can help now, why hasn’t she gotten you a presidential pardon?”

“Because I asked her not to.”

Jenna met his gaze searching for an answer she couldn’t find. The guard was approaching, and she knew her time was up. Even if she managed somehow to get him released and book a flight to Kentucky, they would be too late for the service. If they got there early enough in the morning, he could still see his mother and say goodbye before the casket was permanently closed. She was normally a good judge of character, and she liked Jordan Elkins. She didn’t know why he’d tried to kill his father, but just from the little she knew about Judge Elkins, he probably had a good reason. Reaching across the table, she covered his hands with hers. “I don’t make promises I might not be able to keep. All I can say is I’ll do my best.”

Jordan stood and gazed down at her. “My father’s a bastard. He’ll do everything he can to stop you. Please don’t let him bury my mother without giving me a chance to say goodbye.”

Jenna watched as the guard led him away. His plea at the end had touched her. She’d seen his anger, but he had it well under control. Michael was wrong about him—an image of Michael’s angry face flashed through her mind—and she’d been wrong about Michael.

CHAPTER SIX

The call to Kamela Beaumont had elicited shrieks, screams, and tears but had also resulted in a private limo picking her up to escort her to the Beaumont estate. She glanced at her watch.
Was it really only seven o’clock?
Leaning back into the comfortable leather, she closed her eyes, mentally checking off the events of the day. Vacations were supposed to be relaxing and fun. She felt like a ping-pong ball that had been swatted from one extreme situation to the next without any chance to relax in between, and if Beaumont could get Jordan released, she was looking at three or more hours at an airport and, depending on the flight, about five hours in the air.

The limo slowed, and Jenna opened her eyes in time to see the long, tree-lined driveway that would deliver her to the two-story mansion set among a backdrop of trees. She knew the Beaumonts had made their fortune through imports and exports in New York prior to moving to Texas. Beaumont was still highly involved in local unions. Rumor had it that he was part of an underground dock mob at one time, but no one had ever been able to prove it. One thing she did know—he wielded a lot of power, and if she wanted to keep her job, she needed to tread very carefully.

The limo stopped, and the driver came around to open her door.

“Thank you,” Jenna said, taking a moment to smooth down her skirt and readjust her jacket. She felt dirty and wished she’d had time to take a shower and change before coming. Her self-esteem was at an all-time low.

The door to the mansion was massive, and Jenna looked for a doorbell. Not finding one, she grabbed the huge knocker in the middle and banged it. It opened immediately, almost as if the maid had been patiently waiting on the other side to see if she would knock or go away.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Jenna James. I believe Mr. Beaumont is expecting me.”

“Follow me, please.”

Jenna followed her through the formal sitting room and down a hall. She could hear loud voices coming from an open doorway. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

“You’re asking me to believe William Elkins killed his wife, Kamela. That’s impossible.”

“You don’t understand, Dad. That’s the whole reason Jordan is in prison. He caught him beating her. He went crazy. That’s why he stole the gun. Later, Olivia told him that it had gone on for years, getting worse. Jordan begged her to leave him, but she was afraid—afraid he would hurt Jordan or Michael. He killed her. I know he did.”

The maid glanced at Jenna before knocking on the doorjamb and sticking her head inside. “Miss James has arrived, sir.”

Clifford Beaumont ran a hand through his thinning grey hair and waved her off. “Send her in.”

Jenna once again wished she’d had time to change as his cool grey eyes flicked over her from head to toe. She knew what he was seeing. Her natural curls, which she’d spent over an hour straightening this morning, were starting to frizz, her makeup had been rubbed off hours before, and her suit was rumpled as if she’d slept in it.
Way to make a great impression, Jenna.

“Have a seat, Miss James. I’ll get to you in a minute.”

Jenna sat on the edge of a leather chair, once again feeling small and insignificant. His “I’ll get to you in a minute” had caused a trickle of sweat to flow down the groove of her spine and her mouth to go dry. “Maybe I should wait outside until you’re finished.”

Beaumont ignored her comment, and she sat perfectly still as she observed the interplay between father and daughter. Clifford Beaumont was a big man, and Jenna had no problem believing the rumors she’d heard. Even wealth had not totally chipped away the roughness of the former dock worker. Only when his gaze touched his daughter did the chiseled features relax. The petite blonde barely came up to his shoulders.

“He killed her because of me, Daddy. It’s my fault she’s dead.”

Beaumont pulled his daughter into his arms and stroked her long blond hair. “Shush, honey. It can’t be your fault.”

Kamela pulled out of the embrace and mumbled between sobs. “It is... I shouldn’t... have told... her. He’s going to hate me.”

Beaumont’s face revealed nothing of his emotions as he pulled her back into his arms and gently rocked her back and forth. “Shhh. It will be okay. We’ll fix it, honey.”

Jenna had no doubt that Clifford Beaumont could fix anything he set his mind to. As an officer of the court, she only hoped she wasn’t about to witness a crime.

Beaumont continued to rock Kamela, shushing her sobs until finally there was nothing left but an occasional hiccup.

“I’m pregnant, Daddy. I told Olivia. I wanted her to talk to the authorities, talk to Michael, help me get Jordan released. She got all strange looking. Said she was going to talk to William. He killed her, Daddy. He killed her because of me.”

A pained expression crossed Beaumont’s face, but Jenna couldn’t tell if it was due to his daughter’s emotional pain or her revelation of the pregnancy.

“All right. I’ll get Jordan released long enough to say goodbye to his mother. But the rest of this...”

Kamela threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Beaumont turned to glare at Jenna. “I’m having him released into your custody, Miss James, and I assure you I will hold you personally responsible if anything goes wrong.”

Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat—just when she had thought things couldn’t get worse.

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Michael looked down at his mother’s body, her clothes damp with condensation from the bags of ice tossed haphazardly into the cheap packing crate around her. Deep purple bruises had developed on her face and neck.
You really screwed up this time, you bastard.
He heard the footsteps crossing the hallway and turned. “How many people know about this?”

“Nobody except the maid, and she knows to keep her mouth shut. We’ll fly the body back to Texas, let it thaw out, and then call our friends at the police department and Burns at the funeral home. We have her cremated, and nobody is the wiser.”

Michael sighed. “I told Jenna we were having a service here tonight and then flying her back for interment there tomorrow night.”

Judge Elkins’s face flushed red. “You dumb shit, why the hell did you do that?”

Michael turned his back on him. “You can blame yourself for that, Dad. Maybe if you’d given me a heads-up yesterday instead of spending the day at Keeneland watching the races before you bothered to give me a call this morning, I could have been prepared. She was asking questions, talking about Jordan. I figured it was better to tell her something.”

Michael turned back to his father, a placating smile pasted on his face. He didn’t have to worry about the judge’s rage this time. Without him, the old man would have to wallow in his own shit for a change. “I’ll take care of it.”

Elkins raised his fist and shook it at him. “You better take care of it. You need to put a ring on that bitch’s finger as fast as you can.”

Michael listened to his father’s footsteps as they stomped away. He glanced at his mother’s left hand. He reached in and twisted the finger until it popped and the engagement and wedding rings came off. He placed the lid back on the crate. His father was right. He needed to marry Jenna quickly, before she started thinking too much and asking more questions he couldn’t answer. Putting the rings in his pocket, he whistled and headed for the living room and a good stiff drink. Now that he had the rings, he could ask her to marry him as soon as he got back to Texas.

~~~

Jenna rubbed the handcuff strapped around her wrist, and glanced sideways at Jordan. “Not very comfortable, are they?”

“Not really,” Jordan said.

She turned her attention back to the passing clouds. Even with Beaumont’s help, it was after midnight before they’d finally cleared all the red tape and she’d been allowed to walk out handcuffed to Jordan. In less than three hours, they would be in Kentucky. She’d always wanted to go there, see the horse farms, and visit the castle—she had just never dreamed she’d be handcuffed to her lover’s brother.

Jordan tugged on the handcuffs. “You look tired. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

“We need to talk before we get there.” Jenna turned away from the window and once again studied Jordan Elkins’s handsome features.

Jordan tugged on the handcuffs again, pulling her arm across the seat. “As I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jenna placed her jacket over their joined arms again and glanced around to see if anyone was looking. At least she’d had the good sense to take the jacket off before the guard handcuffed them, and the stewardess had put them in the back away from the majority of passengers. “Stop tugging on my arm. I put my career and my life on the line to do this. I need you to promise that you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Oh, attack your father. Make a scene. Try to escape.”

He laughed softly. “You’ve been a prosecutor too long.”

“Clifford Beaumont had you released into my custody, Jordan. It came with a warning. Anything goes wrong, he’s holding me personally responsible.”

Jordan eyed her quizzically. “You agreed to that?”

“It was the only way I could get you released in time.” She smiled. “Besides, I think Kamela would have had him beat me if I’d refused.”

Jordan sat back, once again pulling her arm over the armrest as he stretched before leaning back in the seat.

“Michael’s a lucky guy.”

Jenna jerked on the handcuff, bringing her arm back across the chair. “So are you. Keep it that way.”

The mention of Michael made Jenna realize she hadn’t told him they were coming.

“Damn,” she whispered, rummaging in her purse for her cell phone.

Jordan opened one eye, grinned at her, and promptly closed it again.

She dialed the number and cursed again as she was immediately transferred to voice mail. Michael had his phone turned off. Of course, he could still have been asleep. She decided to leave a message and hope for the best.

“Mike, it’s Jenna. I, uh… I got Jordan released. We have to change planes in Atlanta, so we should be arriving in Lexington about eight a.m. Can you meet us at the airport? Please call me as soon as you get this.”

Closing the cell phone, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Tiredness washed over her. Twenty-four hours before, she had been an up-and-coming prosecutor. Someone to be dealt with. Today, she didn’t know what the hell she was doing or why she was doing it. She’d realized weeks before she wasn’t in love with Michael. She’d been lonely, tired of working all the time. Michael Elkins was handsome, rich, and she’d been flattered by his attention and impressed by the lifestyle he’d introduced her to. The sex had been great, too… at least in the beginning. Lately, even that was beginning to get stale. So why had she stayed with him? And why the hell was she on an airplane, handcuffed to his brother?

Jenna twisted in the seat, seeking a more comfortable position. She felt not only dirty and grungy but also shallow, having admitted the truth to herself.

“You forgot to tell him you loved him.” Jordan leaned across the seat to whisper the words in her ear.

“What?”

Jordan laughed softly. “Michael. You forgot to tell him you loved him. If you do.”

Jenna ignored the taunt. “And you still haven’t promised not to do anything stupid,” she reminded him.

Jordan laughed again. “I think I’d like having you as a sister-in-law if my brother wasn’t such an ass.”

“Jordan?”

“If I promise, will you let me go to sleep?” Jordan asked.

He was insufferable, but she could see why Kamela had fallen in love with him. “Maybe.”

“Okay, I promise I will not leave your side while we’re in Kentucky.”

Jenna pondered the promise as she listened to his even breathing. It hadn’t been exactly what she’d hoped for, but she figured it was the best she was going to get. Leaning back, she closed her eyes again, letting the gentle motion of the plane rock her to sleep.

~ ~ ~

Michael checked his phone and punched in the number for voice mail. Jenna’s message reopened the rage he’d been feeling since his father’s call. “Damn her to hell.”

William Elkins poured a cup of coffee and joined his son in front of the picture window overlooking the huge lawn.

“Who are you damming to hell this early in the morning?”

“Jenna. She somehow got Jordan released, and they’re on their way to Kentucky. She wants me to pick them up at the airport at eight.”

William snorted. “See why you’re courting her if she’s got that kind of power. Of course, we can’t let them come here, so what are you going to do about it?”

Michael glanced at his watch. They would be changing planes in Atlanta. If he was lucky, he had just enough time to get someone there. Crossing to the credenza he poured a cup of coffee. “I’ll take care of it, but this is the last mess I’m cleaning up for you.”