Justice Incarnate (6 page)

"What's happening to you?" he asked.

His brow furrowed with confusion or concern, she couldn't tell. And he couldn't see. Even touching her, he didn't know her, didn't see the truth.

"Ms. Michaels?"

He knelt, searching her face, but the tragedy unfolding on the fringes of her consciousness stole her voice.

She had to end the Judge's reign of terror, but her strength was failing. She struggled for breath, no longer aware of her fingers digging into the chief's arms, oblivious to both her white knuckles and his hiss of pain.

She braced for the next wave, but instead of crushing her, the pain eased. Instead of exhaustion, she felt a shimmer of renewed energy.

Opening her eyes she filled her vision with him and understood. Cleveland was right, she needed help. But why did the source reside in the one man who'd never once in over a thousand years believed her?

"Thank you," she murmured, her touch lighter now.

"What happened?" he ordered.

"You tell me." She didn't dare volunteer anything. Who knew what he'd reveal to the Judge or use against her in the current case.

"You paled, cried out, and fell."

"Mmm-Hmm."

Chief Thomas released her suddenly. The cold loneliness returned with a wicked rush, but the Judge was done, leaving her to bear only her own burdens for the moment.

Thomas shook his head, rubbed at his arms. "You've got a strong grip."

"Guess so." She stood, the moment gone and with it her desire to have any partner in this venture.

"That's all?"

"I said thanks."

"But what...what caused you to...to do that?"

"Low blood sugar I guess." She stepped back, and away, eager to resume her original plans.

His hand landed on her shoulder and spun her back to face him. She wanted to lash out, but wanted to serve time for assaulting an officer of the law even less.

"Yes?" she managed.

"You're lying." His eyes locked with hers. "I know you, now. The thief." His voice dropped to a whisper. "This was a trick. A little bait and switch."

"No." She wished. "How's the knee?"

"Chuck! Get over here; I've got charges to press."

Funny, she did too. But of a much different nature. "Don't do this. You don't get it." Loomis crossed the room. "Where's the trinket you lifted?"

He held up a palm to stop the approaching detective. "Fine," he growled. "Fill me in."

She calculated her options and the price. "As soon as you clear everyone out." Maybe then, with no distractions, she could make him see the truth.

He scowled at her and she sympathized, momentarily, with his confusion. Then he snapped orders to the evidence crew to clean up and list the case as closed–with her name cleared. Larry's partner didn't care for this development, but all his protests were cut off without further discussion.

When the apartment was clear, she gently probed the issue at hand. "You've known Judge Albertson long?"

"Most of my life."

"He's like a father, a mentor, right?"

"Yes," he admitted, with a frown.

She ignored the doubt stamped on his face and the skeptical set of his mouth. "I'm testifying in his courtroom tomorrow."

"What sort of case?" He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Breaking and entering, maybe?"

"While I've testified on the validity of certain security systems–"

"Which you test by defying them."

She dipped her head, then met his ferocious gaze. She loosened the leash on her street temper. "Who're you to judge me?" Her chin jutted and her finger stabbed at his chest. "You followed me in. You took out one of your own."

"Not without regret."

"I should hope not." Jaden turned away. She'd let it matter too much. Let Cleveland fill her head with stupid ideas about teamwork. Innocents were counting on her. Time to get on with it.

"All right, talk. Why me?"

Hell, if she knew that, life would be too easy. "I thought you might be more reasonable than your officers."

"Loomis is pretty unhappy."

"So am I," she lashed out. "Of all the people your little stunt had to cost, that's the one man I needed."

"Oh, this'll be good." His hands came out of his pockets and folded across his chest.

She remembered that pose. It wasn't a good sign. She tried to dial down her emotions. "Larry kept important evidence safe."

"Safe from what?"

"From people who wanted it gone."

"Evidence doesn't bow to the whim of 'people'."

"It shouldn't. But–"

"But nothing. Our department has protocol and procedures. We've worked hard to reclaim the integrity of law enforcement. Give me something concrete or stop insinuating otherwise."

"I give up." Exasperated, Jaden hitched her thumb at the door. "Go away. I've got to sleep if I'll be worth anything in court. Check into the Brenda Calhoun case. Then, should you care to broaden your mind, stop by your buddy's courtroom."

* * *

Jaden heard the question, but looked straight at the Judge rather than the advocate. He needed to see her courage wouldn't falter.

"Answer the question, Ms. Michaels," Judge Albertson prompted.

"The woman arrived, bruised and bleeding, begging for help."

"And you took pictures?" the Judge interjected in a patronizing voice laced with doubt.

"Yes. After I called the police. Ms. Calhoun gave her statement to them and the evidence crew collected information–"

"And took pictures," the judge interrupted again.

Stay calm. "Yes. Then I escorted Brenda to the hospital for treatment."

"Did they also take pictures at the hospital?" the defense-advocate inquired.

"Yes." Hell must've frozen over, she was wishing for an attorney. These proceedings were tedious under the wrong judge, and Albertson was as wrong as they came.

"Yet only your set of pictures remains?"

"Apparently."

"Pictures any four-year-old could create on his home computer."

The judge waved the defense-advocate to his seat and assumed the questioning himself.

"No," Jaden said quietly.

"No?"

"No. You can scan my programs. I don't have photo enhancement software. You can review the pictures themselves and you'll see no trace of tampering."

"So where are these pictures?" Judge Albertson snapped.

Jaden paused, looking for the verbal trap. His henchmen had failed to kill her and the evidence. What did he hope to gain by staring at the proof himself?

She pulled a slender tube out from her portfolio. The courtroom door opened and Chief Thomas walked in. After last night, he was the last person she expected here.

Jaden unscrewed the cap off the tube and set several flat disks on the rail between her seat and the Judge's dais. Pressing the power button on, she brought each hologram to life. Close-ups of Brenda's bleeding, swollen face shimmered in the air between Jaden and the judge.

His face went red. "You said pictures," he snapped.

"Yes. I have those too." She reached into her portfolio and extended the envelope containing the dozen or so prints.

He hesitated, then accepted, his eyes hot with temper. All courtrooms were wired with a constant feed to the news services and anyone interested could tune in to any case.

In light of the incontrovertible proof she'd just presented, the Judge would have to send his friend to behavior modification. Brenda would be free to get on with her life. An angry look passed between the Judge and Brenda's ex. The accused looked away.

Jaden waited until the Judge ordered her to light the last disk. It wasn't a still. It was a recording of Brenda's testimony as given to the evidence crew.

"Ms. Michaels, is this a stunt to earn an interview for a detective's position?"

"No sir. I merely wanted to help one of my students."

"You consider yourself better equipped than the legal system we have in place?"

She couldn't believe he'd opened that door. To her, of all people. "I believe our law enforcement faces the same challenges it has in the past. Corruption and over work. I merely wanted to see justice served."

Judge Albertson brought his robe-shrouded bulk out of his chair. "Chambers, Ms. Michaels," he bellowed. "Bailiff take those things to the lab for verification."

Jaden watched the bailiff scurry to gather up the disks, then followed the judge behind the bench to his chambers.

The door slid closed behind Jaden and she heard the lock engage. A perfect opportunity to take down a demon incarnate. But without an escape route, more importantly, without the answer of how to break the curse, she wouldn't act.

And he knew it.

"Well done. You're clearly committed to this girl."

"I'm committed to all of your victims."

"You've grown up. Filled out too much for my tastes."

"Lucky me."

He leaned back into his chair and laced his fingers over his broad girth.

"I'm ready. Go ahead."

She frowned at him. "Ready for what?"

"Come on, you've got a knife in your shoe. A gun on your thigh, right?"

"Neither would've survived the search at the door."

"Oh, something quieter this time? Poison maybe, or a garrote?"

"So you hauled me in here to kill you? How absurd."

"But you're so good at it." He leaned forward and the chair groaned under the burden. He slid a small plastic card across his desk. "Here's the pass card for the back door. Once you're out of the building you can go wherever you please. You'd have purged the world of me and my evil intentions."

He chuckled like a narrator for an old horror flick, but Jaden ignored it, trying to calculate what brought this on.

He wanted something. Something she already had. He'd never before invited her vengeance. But what could it be, what was worth the risk?

"Why?" she asked bluntly.

"Seems you've always had an axe to grind."

She clasped her hands behind her. "The axe didn't work."

He guffawed. "Well in the long run, I suppose not. We've been around this all before. Here's your opportunity, Ms. Michaels. Take your best shot."

It was tempting. Beyond tempting–it was the end all, the ultimate goal right here in her grasp, yet it didn't feel right.

"Why?" she asked again.

"So curious. Just do it and let's call it done. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's finish it."

He had lived longer than any other time they'd met. She felt it then, caught the slight glimmer in his eyes. He had a plan. Somehow he knew her strength was waning. If she gave in to the instant gratification now, it would only be tougher next time.

"What's your verdict on this case?"

"Simple. A juiced man forgot his own strength in the throes of passion and the woman cried abuse. She's alive and well enough, isn't she? She's moved on–why isn't he entitled to the same?"

"Maybe because he broke her jaw, her nose, her arm, not to mention the law."

"Dearheart, do you recall the good ol' days when laws made sense? When a man had the right to keep his lady in line without fear of the establishment?"

She looked heavenward, pretending to think. "Hmm. Yes." Her eyes came back to his. "I think they called it the Dark Ages."

He guffawed once more and his enormous belly jiggled, making the robes ripple like a black lake.

"So if you won't kill me, dare I ask a favor?"

"You've dared more without asking."

"Ah, you're bitter." He waggled a finger at her. "That's never good. In this life form or any other."

She held her tongue, wishing she could cut his out.

"Stop this witch hunt, dearheart. Aside from mistakes I made with you and your sister–"

"You're referring, of course, to the sister who died as a direct result of your depravity." The only sister she'd had in how many families? The sister she'd treasured and lost because of the beast in front of her. Her vision hazed and she itched to strike out.

He inclined his head, in admission or invitation she couldn't say. She struggled for control. He was up to something.

"...a sorrowful time indeed," he was saying. "However, all that's behind me." He shifted to open the top drawer of his desk.

Jaden braced herself to defend or evade depending on the weapon he withdrew. And she nearly fell to her knees in grief at the sight of the sparkling bracelet dangling from his stocky finger.

She remembered each of the nine, modest square cut diamonds. She recalled the delighted look on her sister's face at the birthday party that became her last. She still felt the pulse of rage when her sister's small body had been found–without a scrap of ornamentation.