That Perfect Moment

“Trevor is the second assistant, and I think he’s rather sketchy. Lieutenant Franklin. Howard Daniels is a sheriff. The Baxters.” His eyes widened as he talked. “And Merrill O’Dell was the judge’s first conviction ten years ago, but he won an appeal recently. He skipped probation and hasn’t been seen since.”

Pleased, Zach wrote down everything Clark said, while Kim managed to look surprised and slightly annoyed.

“I believe Trevor is harmless,” she countered.

“Then where is he?” The sarcastic twist to Clark’s mouth wasn’t lost on Zach. “He’s gone longer than anyone on break, he leaves early all the time, and I’ve put him on two action plans for shoddy work. The man is a terrible assistant. He needs to be fired, yet you won’t do it.” He eyed the judge. “In my humble opinion,” he added, then rolled his eyes.

“He’s not that bad of an assistant, and he’s entitled to be absent once in a while. We all work hard and sometimes people have private lives that require some leeway. I don’t believe Trevor is a threat, but you’re going to do your own investigation.”

Zach nodded. “That’s right.”

Clark hugged the judge, then stood, holding his healing arm as he walked to the office door. “I’m going on three weeks of vacation far away from here, and when I get back I expect things to be different.” He smiled and leaned toward Zach. “Puh-lease. I don’t want to die.”

Zach chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not going to die, and not a hair will be harmed on the judge’s head, either. You remind me of Daniel, my administrative assistant. Nothing but drama.”

Clark’s eyes brightened. “Daniel? Well, I’d better cut your office a check. I’ll drop it off to Daniel on my way out of town.”

Zach looked at the judge, who seemed totally relaxed. Her legs were crossed and she was resting her face on her finger and thumb. “We haven’t decided to do business yet,” Zach told him, his gaze shifting back to the judge.

Clark held the doorknob. “Judge?” he asked softly.

She looked at the Hood Inc. logo that spun in a circle on Zach’s computer. “Notify me when I am able to sign the contract, then cut a check for twenty thousand dollars to Hood Investigations. Also, prepare a dossier on all the marshals who’ve worked the security detail for the past twelve months.”

“I’m going to need one on the staff, including you, Clark.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zach focused on the judge.

“Thank you and enjoy your holiday,” the judge told Clark.

“Mr. Hood, everything is already compiled. I’ll have it in a few minutes, then I’m leaving, okay, Judge?”

The judge waved and the door closed softly. She exhaled a deep breath. “I’m going to miss him.”

“You’ll be down an assistant for a few weeks. Can you manage?”

She looked confident. “I haven’t forgotten how to type. It’s not that we as judges can’t do those forms, we just have so much other work to do. If I get swamped, I can get Trevor to step up.”

“So you do have confidence in him.” Zach appreciated that she seemed to be taking everything in stride, but he wondered how many sleepless nights she’d had wondering when her predator would strike again.

“I do, but I understand Clark’s trepidations. Trevor came in and tried to take his job. There’s been some bad blood between the two of them.”

“What’s Trevor’s last name?”

“Mason.”

He studied her. “Otherwise, how are you holding up?”

There was a silence that he realized was her way of choosing her words. “I’m relieved to know this is under way. But I don’t think it’s a staff member.” She looked unsure again.

“If you had to guess, who do you think it is?”

Her hand caressed from her thigh to her knee. “One of my security detail.”

“Why?”

“They know my schedule. Professional and personal.”

“Have you ever been romantically involved with anyone on the staff or in the court system? Anyone on your detail?”

She was shaking her head before he finished the question. “Never.”

Her quick answer made him think she was lying or that she at least had something to hide. She was gorgeous and she had to know it. The judge was the kind of fine that gave drunk men hope that they could approach her and come up a winner. Regardless of her position or theirs, he knew she had broken a few hearts in the hallowed halls of Georgia Justice.

“How long have you been in the justice system, Judge?”

She seemed eager to debunk his questions about any preconceived notion he might have about her private life. “I’ve been here long enough to know every step I take is being watched by my subordinates, peers and the powers that be. I’m always professional. Period, the end. It’s saved me a lot of grief and heartache that other colleagues haven’t been so fortunate to avoid. I’ve sacrificed,” she said, and the word echoed through his body. “But I made a choice to do that. There is no one, Mr. Hood.”

She was too beautiful to be alone, but there were a lot of women in Atlanta like her. He suddenly felt very protective of her. Zach checked himself, putting distance between them. He busied himself by stowing his computer in his bag. “Okay. It is possible that you could have a jealous relative?”

She shook her head. “There’s no one left but me.”

He swung back to not believing her. How was it that he and his brothers were always meeting and falling in love with women who had no one in the world?

The saliva dried in his mouth and he saw the judge’s eyes narrow. “What are you thinking? You’re squinting at me,” she said directly. Her gaze didn’t waver as she read him as quickly as he’d read her. No woman had ever done that to him before.

Zach sidestepped the quick observation. “We may have to temporarily suspend your extracurricular activities until we neutralize whoever is after you.”

“I can sacrifice dancing, but not the other two. No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can’t bend on those. Judges live by a code of conduct that restricts our behavior. This code basically controls our lives. I’ve given up a lot of things,” she said, scooting forward on the couch until she could stand. “I’m not causing harm to anyone or anything. I’ll do everything else you say. I’ll be totally under your control as long as I can rock the babies and go out on my boat.”

“Judge—”

“When we’re alone, it’s Kim, please.”

Was she tired of what she was?

The judge went to a mirrored wall, inserted a key and opened a door Zach had no idea was there. From inside she removed a large briefcase and a tailored white purse that was as sleek as it was expensive. “Mr. Hood—”

“Zach,” he said, standing.

Opening the classy white bag, she pulled out a black band that she wound around her hair until it was in a professional bun again. She dipped into the bag once again and came out with a shiny black case. Opening it, she slid black sunglasses into her hand. Leaning over her desk, she electronically signed the contract before stowing her iPad in her bag.

“Zach, you have to make those two things happen or I’ll find another security detail. I heard that Hood Investigations was the best. You not only get your man, but you make them pay without killing them. Between you, me and the wall, that’s my brand of justice. If I go into hiding and they kill me, they win. Can you do the job?”

Zach didn’t try to conceal his smile. She had become the judge again. Her logic was impeccable and refreshing. Women just didn’t think like her. “We do whatever it takes to get our man.”

She handed him her pashmina to drape over her shoulders, and when she turned, she was just beneath him. Kim’s sensuality was as effortless as her beauty.

“Let me make this clear,” Zach continued, denying himself the opportunity to be lulled by her feminine appeal. “If he gets too close, if anyone in your circle is endangered, you do it my way.”

Her face was expressionless, and then he saw it. Respect sparkled like a firecracker on a hot July night. She covered her eyes in black sunglasses and her lips eased into a sexy smile. “You’re the boss.”

The words had never sounded sexier. Never sounded more provocative than they did right then.

“First, we’re going to do background checks. Shake the trees and see what falls out.”

Zach decided right then that he loved her eyebrows because they arched over her dark glasses and told him what her eyes would not. He got her safely into his SUV and they were under way quickly.

He made sure they weren’t being followed, driving through the streets of Atlanta that he knew so well. Kim crossed her legs and he averted his gaze, vowing not to look again. If he was going to get the job done right, the last thing he needed was to want her. “You haven’t told me something,” Zach said. Her body language was different since they’d left the courthouse.

“I didn’t want to mention this while Clark was still in the office. He would never have gone on vacation. This was on the gate when I drove to work this morning.” She handed him a note.

Zach didn’t want to pull over, but he had no choice. He broke protocol and stopped at a well-known restaurant parking lot and shifted the gears into Park, the car facing the street. He needed an easy escape route, if that became necessary. He pulled latex gloves from the glove box, a staple in his profession. “You should have told me earlier. I could have had this scanned and analyzed by now.”

The note was simple. You will feel my pain.

It was impossible to tell whether the writer was male or female, black or white, young or old. The one thing he could say was that they were smart. No unnecessary words. No clues, no hints at their next method of attack. Only the promise. These were the worst. Zach hated these perpetrators. Catching this one would take skill rather than strength. “On the gate of your house?” he asked.

“Yes. They couldn’t get in,” she assured him.

He nodded. They weren’t professional. Not yet. “Don’t keep anything else from me. We’ll catch him that much sooner if I know everything. I hate surprises. They put us at a disadvantage.”

She’d already pulled off her glasses.

Her gaze cut across the traffic, then back at him. “Get used to them. That’s what law is all about. Managing the bad and evil surprises.”

“I don’t get used to anything. That’s why I always get my man,” he assured her. “Or woman.” She crossed her left leg, then folded her arms. He knew what that meant. Off-limits. Women only clouded men’s judgment, and he was there to work, only.

The judge had nothing to worry about. If her work ethic was as strong as she’d stated, his was made of carbonized steel.

Chapter 3

When was the last time a man had made Kim feel incompetent and unable to take care of a situation?

Zach pushed on the first-floor window in the sunroom, finding it unlocked. He frowned as he’d done a thousand times since they’d arrived at the house. He didn’t like anything. Not her house, or the fact that it was a two-story and not a three-story. He made it clear that he thought her security system was inadequate and that she needed upgrades, including a dog, and he’d asked her more than once why was she single. As if she hadn’t asked herself that a thousand times over the years until finally accepting the answer. She was meant to be alone.

Zachary Hood couldn’t be made happy about anything. Kim had stopped trying. His expectations were too high. They’d slid into hour three of his interrogation fifty-nine minutes ago, and as hour four ticked away, she took a mental moment to figure out why her frustration level matched his. She had been happy with her life… Until she’d met him.

Kim wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a judgmental man. She’d expected him to be more conciliatory. Someone who…well, acquiesced to her position as a judge. Someone who was at least nice.

Releasing the biggest sigh of the day, her tension eased a bit. It was the truth. It had been so long since anyone besides Clark told her she was wrong about something, and he was so gentle about it. Zach was trampling all over her tender feelings.

Kim slid her hand through her hair as they entered the keeping room, her mother’s favorite room in the house she and Kim’s father had owned before their deaths. This was the only room Kim had not changed when she’d had the house renovated a year ago. The curtains were still thick velvet brocade, and hung from heavy fourteen-foot rods, protecting stained-glass windows that dated back to the early nineteen hundreds, when the house had first been built.

The windows had been treated and re-stained, but that was all she’d had updated in the room.

“Wow, this is a throwback to the past,” Zach murmured, more to himself than to her. His words weren’t a criticism or snide, just a statement about the overall state of the room. It was mausoleum-like with the heavy dark furniture and the real Persian rugs. Kim knew that at some point she’d have to deal with the room and renovate. She’d have to deal with her feelings for her mother, too. Perhaps that was why the room was still in its untouched state, even after eight years.

Zach was ten feet into the room before he spoke. “Turn on the lights, please.”

The lights were on a dimmer switch, and Kim tried to see the room as he did. The portrait that hung over the fireplace of her and her mother came into view as the lights grew brighter. Zach drew closer and studied her mom. “She was beautiful. You look just like her.”

When more words didn’t come, Kim became embarrassed.

“Thank you.” The unexpected compliment had caught her off guard. Her heart hammered. She’d been called beautiful before, but she wanted to be respected by Zach.

She looked at her mother and her heart ached for the closeness they had lacked. For all that they hadn’t been.

The sadness in the room overwhelmed her. “Are you almost finished? I can meet you in the library.”

Zach had moved on, even as she walked toward the door, her heart beginning to race again. Anxiety from being in her mother’s space was beginning to get to her. So many unshed tears. So many words unspoken.

“Come here,” he said.

From above the fireplace, beautiful brown eyes gazed down at her and she looked away from Kay Thurman. Kim crossed the room to Zach, her jaw clenched. “Yes, Mr. Hood?”

“Were these windows ever fitted with security sensors?”

“No. The prickly bushes outside are so close to the house, I didn’t think a criminal would ever wade into them to get inside. They’d get sliced up.”

Zach held back the thick curtain, and Kim waved dust out of her face. Then she saw what Zach was referring to. The beautiful stained-glass panes had been removed, leaving the window wedged open by six-inch blocks, waiting for whomever to return and finish the job of breaking into her house. They’d obviously wanted the expensive glass, because it was gone, but they wanted access, too. This was no smash and grab crime. This was methodical and thought out. There was no mistaking it. She was being targeted.

Her heart raced out of fear and stupidity. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know.” She reached out to snatch the blocks, and Zach caught her hand. Roughness met pampered softness.

“Get them out,” she ordered. Panic hit her in the chest. “There was always a moment when I thought I was overreacting. I thought, they’re not following me, are they? The attack on me was random. But this…this was meant for me. To get me.”

“Kim, it’s not the time to lose your head. If you needed confirmation, well, here’s more proof. We’re leaving the blocks in. We want him to think he’s getting away with something. The truth is that the two incidents aren’t related. There are two groups or people targeting you.”

“What? How do you know?” As badly as she wanted to leave the room, Zach knew more than the chief of police or his deputies had told her in all her conversations with them.

“Anyone who leaves something on your gate can’t get in. The note was intended to intimidate you. They want to show you their power, but they’re showing their limitations. The person who got into this window could have gotten into the house, but something stopped them.”

Fearful but curious, Kim had to ask all the questions racing through her mind. “Fear or something else?” She voiced her hope rather than her fear.

“Time and greed. He wants the glass, too,” he said, feeding a fear so deep inside her she wanted to run. But nothing, not death or threats, had made her run in the past. She wouldn’t run now.

“So they’re still after me?”

“I believe whoever did this will try again. No one leaves a window open and doesn’t return. They probably realized this glass is worth a lot of money, and they got sidetracked. They want it all. This is personal and potentially the most dangerous. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“What are they doing with the glass? Keeping it as a trophy?”

Zach pursed his lips and shook his head confidently. He worked a piece free and slipped it into a plastic evidence bag. “No. The value is too high and too many are gone. They’re selling it. It’s heavy, so he could only carry a few at a time without being noticed. He’s playing the law of averages. He’ll be back, but he didn’t count on you having better security. We will get this bastard. This one may have a smudge of blood on it.”

“How soon will we know?” she asked, excited for the first time that day.

“A day or two.” Zach remained hopeful. “How much was this glass?”

“They were ordered in bulk, but six hundred a piece. There about.”

Zach grunted. “Stealing one is a felony. And he got six.”

“Maybe he won’t be back.”

“Baby, you’re a judge. He’s gone undetected and he got away. This is an easy score for him. There are bragging rights for him right about now. He’ll be back. There are two groups. I’m convinced of that.”

Kim didn’t know whether to believe Zach anymore. He’d been in her life for a few hours and she was so full of anxiety, she wasn’t sure she trusted even her own judgment anymore. “I went from nobody believing me to having not one but two groups targeting me.”

“Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Zach said, not looking at her, studying her alarm control panel. “You’re just too close to it and you’re the victim. I don’t expect you to see things the way I do. No, wait.” He smiled at her. “Yes, I do.”

He disarmed her with that quick smile in the face of all this serious talk about her life. The thing was, she did believe him. And now, she was more afraid than ever.

“Why didn’t the chief of police believe me?”

“Because he sent his best people to protect you, and if they investigated and said you were out of danger, then he would take their word over yours.”

“What about Clark’s arm and that attempted kidnapping? Surely that can’t be swept under the rug?”

“No, it can’t. I’ll have my people follow up on that. I’ll have answers for you, Kim. You never told me who has keys to your house.”

His quick shift in conversation was a tactic used in trials to redirect witnesses, but Kim wasn’t that easily distracted. She couldn’t look away from the blocks wedging the window open. Who would do this?

It was well past nine, and the sun was finally fading for the evening, but a few rays still managed to reflect off the beautiful stained glass. Kim’s heart ached for the mother who had neglected to love her. Zach was still waiting and Kim turned away from the glass to find his questioning gaze on her. “Lieutenant Jerome from the marshals has a key to the house. Clark, of course, and Flora, my housekeeper. Giuseppe, the grocery delivery man, and Paul, my next-door neighbor.” She reached out again and Zach guided her away from the window. She finally met his gaze, unable to look away. “People are really trying to hurt me.”

She was stuck, like a truck in the red Georgia clay after a hard rain. She wanted to ask Zach who would do this, but she couldn’t. He didn’t know any more than she.

“Five keys, huh? Why not leave a key in the mailbox with a note?” He tromped all over her already bruised feelings.

“I have no appreciation for sarcasm.”

“I was kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“You’re right. You’re a judge, and you should have used better judgment. You’ve practically waved a flag at the satellites in space and said, ‘notify all attackers, I’m waiting to be a victim.’ How many doors open with that key that everyone has?”

Kim didn’t really want to answer because he was right, of course. And since they had the key, they had the alarm code, too. It crossed her mind that she’d doled out her house key like French fries, and lots of keys could have been made. But why would those people betray her?

She braced for the onslaught of words her reply would bring. “All of the doors open with the same key.” She knew he heard her barely audible words. She’d conceivably invited the perpetrator into her home.

“This house is how old?” he asked, saying nothing further, scrutinizing the glass on the window leading to the second floor.

“Ninety years old. It’s been renovated twice. In the forties, and then a year ago. I have a bit of a defense for myself, Zach. When I’m home, I try to live a normal life. I didn’t know I’d made myself so vulnerable.”

“I don’t really blame you, Kim. Your security team should be fired for not knowing about this. Then again, who knows when this happened? But this is how innocent people die.”

“I’ve never had any trouble, and I’ve lived here for quite some time.”

“You grew up in this house,” he stated. How did he know? He’d only been in her house a few hours.

She thought about lying, but it would be useless. “How did you know?”

“The picture over the fireplace. I recognize the window behind the chair your mother is sitting in.”

His astute observation was correct. The artist had captured only the side portion of the window, but Zach’s attention to detail was uncanny. Men didn’t usually notice much past her breast size and the fact that she was in a position of power.

“All my life, I went to boarding schools, and I visited here. After my parents died, I came back for good.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Zach sounded so sincere, Kim wished she hadn’t brought it up. She never talked about her family or their less-than-close home life. She didn’t need sympathy. She offered empathy only to those who genuinely needed it.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This neighborhood was all but ignored by the young urban professionals who were buying up the land in the late nineties. Most of us second generation owners renovated and refurbished our family homes. We got lucky to have such nice property in the right zip code.”

Zach gave her a wise, knowing look. “These houses are worth millions because of that zip code.”

“The status associated with these is almost ridiculous.” She waved nonchalantly.

“Why not leave if it makes you feel that way?”

“What way?” Kim crossed her arms and leaned away from him.

“Cold and detached.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve touched a nerve. We don’t have to talk about it. Let’s move on.”

He had more than touched a nerve. He’d run his six-foot-four self all over her central nervous system. Accepting the house had been a final thank-you for all of the years of boarding school, holidays alone and lonely nights. She’d taken it with bitter acceptance from their attorney at their graveside funeral. She, the child of spies, had hardly seen them.

Now she was living in their home, her home now, and being stalked as they used to stalk others for information. Kim shook off the ghosts of her parents, and needed coffee. Instead, she bit her nails; her one vice. At the door of the keeping room, Kim went ahead and walked out, hoping Zach would get the hint, but he ignored her.

“Why didn’t you just sell?”

“I couldn’t. As much as I disagreed with my folks, in their own way they loved me. I never told them how much they hurt me by not being home to care for me, but that hardly seemed the point when you’re summoned to a hospital in the middle of the night to hear your mother’s final words.”