Witness... And Wife?. Kate Stevenson

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СКАЧАТЬ absolutely right,” he agreed, his attention on the first page of notes. “I won’t do it again.”

      Cassie’s mouth dropped open. Admitting they were wrong was hard for most men; for the old Luke it was well nigh impossible. What was he up to?

      He closed the pad and looked up, his gaze piercing. “Did you remember anything?”

      The abrupt question sent a chill up her spine. “No.” She took a step back, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

      “It’s all right, slugger,” he assured her, his manner subdued by her obvious discomfort. “From what the doctor says, when your head wound heals completely, your memory will probably return. These things take time.”

      Time she didn’t have, not if she intended uncovering a killer. Not if she ever wanted to feel safe again. Still, she managed a lukewarm response that seemed to satisfy Luke.

      “I need to check in and see if Haggerty or Jessup have turned up anything on your elusive caller,” he said. “Then let’s see if Judge Kimball’s free this afternoon. He’s on my list, and you can check about those transcripts you want.”

      “Good idea.” She started up the hall, her spirits taking an upward swing. “Uncle Harry will be happy to help.”

      “Uncle Harry?”

      As Luke fell into step beside her, she smiled, taking a measure of satisfaction in throwing him off balance. “Harry Kimball. I’m sure you’ve heard Pop mention him. He’s another old family friend—the one who couldn’t make it to our wedding.”

      Old friend hardly described the urbane individual who entered the office where Luke and Cassie waited after lunch. Judge Harold Kimball appeared to be in his early forties, closer in age to Cassie’s brothers than to her father. And the man certainly didn’t treat her like any uncle that Luke had ever known.

      “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long, honey,” Kimball said, settling a much-too-affectionate kiss on Cassie’s cheek.

      “I’m so sorry about your loss, Uncle Harry,” she said.

      “Terrible, terrible. It’s always hard to lose a good friend, but this kind of thing…” Kimball shook his head sadly. “So senseless, so unnecessary. A true tragedy.”

      Maybe it was Kimball’s overblown manner or just the intimate way he clasped Cassie’s hands, but Luke couldn’t work up much sympathy for the man. Yet his grief seemed genuine.

      “It must have been an awful shock,” Cassie said to him.

      “You can’t imagine.” He paused, then seemed to pull himself together. “But what about you? I couldn’t believe when your father told me you’d been attacked. Are you sure you’re not overtaxing yourself?”

      Not waiting for an answer, he grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her head to inspect her healing wound. To Luke’s amazement, she allowed the familiarity, although she pulled away when the judge raised a finger as if he intended to probe the bruises around her bandage.

      “I’m fine, Uncle Harry. Pop always claimed I was hard-headed. I guess I proved him right.”

      “Not hard-headed, my girl. Determined.” Kimball patted her cheek and smiled. “There’s a difference, you know. And with Benjamin for a father, I’d say you came by the trait naturally.”

      Luke’s lips curled in disgust. If there was one thing he hated, it was hearing someone whitewash the truth to make it more palatable. A spade was a spade whatever you called it, and anyone who knew Cassie knew her stubbornness ran far beyond the bounds of ordinary determination. His estimation of the judge dropped a notch, and he cut in before the man could make an even greater fool of himself. “Excuse me, Judge Kimball, but I’m here on official business.”

      One arm draped across Cassie’s shoulders, Kimball turned to Luke while Cassie performed the introductions. “Slater?” He rolled the name across his tongue as though trying to solve a puzzle, although Luke suspected he already knew everything he needed to know about Luke. “Weren’t you and Cassie once…”

      “Married? Yes.” It was obvious the judge expected more of an explanation, but Luke refused to elaborate. Uncle or not, it was none of Kimball’s business why Cassie and Luke were together.

      Evidently, good manners won out over curiosity, for after a moment’s hesitation, Kimball extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, detective.”

      Like most cops, Luke dealt in impressions, and early on he’d learned to draw conclusions about a man based on the way he shook hands. If asked to guess, Luke would have pegged Kimball a political, two-handed shaker, for despite the manicured nails and custom-tailored suit, he wasn’t the least reserved. Unfortunately, Judge Kimball’s generic handshake netted Luke little new about his character.

      “How about it? Do you have time for a few questions?”

      Tilting his right wrist, Kimball exposed a slim Rolex. “I’m due in court in forty minutes.”

      “Plenty of time. Shall we adjourn?” Without waiting for a response, Luke stepped into the judge’s private office.

      Seemingly unconcerned by Luke’s presumption, Kimball ushered Cassie through the door. Only a slight tightening of muscles around his mouth betrayed his true feelings. Luke pretended not to notice. This was an investigation, not a cocktail party, and the sooner Kimball cut the social amenities, the sooner they could get down to business.

      Attempting to curb his impatience, Luke settled into a chair and mentally inventoried the room. Although not an exact duplicate of Judge Wainright’s chambers, it was similar in size and shape. Cases filled with leather-bound legal references and a few mementos took up most of the open wall space. He focused on a grouping of framed certificates that proclaimed Harold Kimball to be a graduate of Harvard Law School, as well as a member of the Illinois and Colorado Bar Associations.

      Money, Luke guessed. Conservative, old money, he added as he noted the lone photograph of a younger Kimball shaking hands with Ronald Reagan in the Oval Office.

      Cassie, accompanied by the scent of wildflowers, slipped into the chair next to him. Just as they already had a dozen times today, his thoughts scattered before the tantalizing odor, and his body responded to her nearness. Grimly he squared one leg over the opposite knee, his foot aimed away from her.

      Waiting only long enough for Kimball to settle behind the desk, Cassie edged forward on her chair, sending her snug, cotton skirt a few inches up her thigh. “Uncle Harry, I need a favor.”

      A person would have to be blind not to notice how Kimball ogled the exposed expanse of tanned leg she was displaying, and Luke wasn’t blind. The fact that he himself hadn’t missed the mouth-watering sight was beside the point.

      Oblivious to Luke’s chilling glance, Kimball smiled. “A favor? Name it, sweetheart.”

      Kimball’s proprietary air and the syrupy names he called Cassie rubbed Luke the wrong way. Nerves twitching, he wondered how far the judge would like to stretch the tenuous bonds of kinship.

      “Judge Wainright ordered some transcripts I’d like to look through. Nothing confidential, but I thought they might provide me СКАЧАТЬ