The Judge

By Tallulah Grace

Locked away on death row, Celine Drew’s tormentor posed little threat, aside from the ever-present damage to her body, mind, and soul. Locked in a prison of her own making, Celine’s self-imposed exile from family and friends kept her vulnerable to memories of her time with a serial killer known as The Judge.

When letters from The Judge threaten to finish what he started, Celine reaches out to Jeri Forbes, and the EJB Global team. Though disturbing, the letters are also harmless, until Tyler Burgess, The Judge, escapes from prison.

Tyler Burgess has nothing to lose. Celine Drew has everything to gain.

Follow Celine’s journey from terrorized victim, to the moment she takes charge of her life again, with the help of her protector, Brent Hall. Jeri, Ethan, and the entire EJB Global team go in search of Tyler Burgess, but he’s always one step ahead. Until he’s not.

This explosive drama profiles a sexual sadist and his murderous spree, from death row to his end game; the people he blames most for his untimely incarceration.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kalyko Creations
• Release date: Jul 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311334244

Tallulah Grace

Raised in the foothills of the mystical Blue Ridge Mountains, I attribute my love of beautiful landscapes and fascination with all things paranormal to my environment. The settings and characters in my novels reflect my appreciation for natural beauty as well as a desire to explore the what-if’s of things unseen. Throw in a degree in Psychology paired with a strong interest in the workings of the criminally insane mind and you have a breeding ground for a psychological thriller.Becoming an author was not a conscious decision; I've always been a writer. Channeling a passion for story-telling into my livelihood required a giant leap of faith, one that I'll never regret as I truly love what I do.When I'm not writing, I enjoy antiquing, bead-weaving and sharing time with my incredible daughter and our two spoiled-rotten cats.

Book preview

The Judge

An EJB Crime Thriller

Book Three

Tallulah Grace

Copyright 2014 Tallulah Grace

Smashwords Edition

The names, places and events contained within this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying or any other information storage and retrieval system without prior, written permission of the Author.

Chapter One

Keep moving!

The words came out as a sob as she ran. A mantra, pushing her forward, away from the life that would surely kill her.

Vines, some thicker than her arms, created a vertical jungle in the pitch black. The sound of water, lapping against the shore, told her that something heavy moved in the murky bayou.

It had to be an alligator.

Or a boat.

Could it be them?

Praying for the disturbance to be a gator, she froze. They would hear her if she moved.

Searching the darkness for light, she barely breathed as she stood among the dense vegetation banking the black water. Fear-- cold, harsh, and immobilizing-- held her rooted in place.

You think you can git away from us, girl? A gruff voice penetrated the night, sending icy fingers along her spine. I know you’s out ‘ere. You best come along with us, a’fore a gator makes you his dinner.

The voice grew stronger as more water hit the shore. They were getting closer, coming for her.

Her pulse began to race, sending signals to her brain; RUN! MOVE! GO!

Fight or flight, she had to decide.

From experience, she knew that fighting was useless. They were both bigger, and stronger, than she. Running was her only option.

It was then she felt the quicksand, filling her sneakers and working its way up, over her ankles.

She couldn’t lift her feet, couldn’t make them move!

Wild-eyed and desperate, she struggled against the sinking sand, only to go deeper into the muck.

The light found her then, spotting her like a deer, trapped within the high beams.

A hand, thick and meaty, reached for her through the vines, grabbing her arm and jerking her forward.

You’ll pay for this, girly. Jest see if you don’t.

NOOOOOOOO!

Jeri, Love, wake up! It’s just a dream, you’re safe! Wrapping his arms around her, Ethan held her tight, rocking her gently as he spoke.

Her eyes flew open, still wild and full of fear. Thrashing against him, she couldn’t hear a word. She only knew that she had to get away.

Realizing that he was making it worse, Ethan let her go.

Jeri! His voice was not as gentle this time, but it had the desired effect.

She went completely still, and her eyes began to focus. Slowly, she turned her head toward the sound of his voice.

Ethan? Her voice was tiny, like a small child’s.

Yes, Love, it’s me. You’re safe. It was just a dream, he repeated, slowly moving to gather her into his arms again.

I was back in the bayou, they found me. She didn’t have to elaborate, he knew that she referred to her last set of foster parents. If they were not already dead, Ethan would have taken great pleasure in killing them himself.

You’re safe, he repeated, knowing that it would take time for her to believe him.

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t run, it was so dark… the words trailed off as Jeri felt the warmth of his love surround her. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed into the steady beat of his heart.

It’s not real, Love. You’re here, in our home, safe with me. He caressed her hair as he spoke, running his hand along the back of her head in the age-old motion to comfort and soothe.

They lay like that for a time, Ethan’s soft words washing over her like a warm, summer rain. Gradually, her heart began to slow, and her breath began to steady.

I’m sorry, Jeri whispered against his chest. She felt better now, but tendrils of the terror that had consumed her in sleep still danced around the edges of her consciousness.

Don’t be. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Ethan fought to keep his anger hidden. It would do no good for Jeri to know how violently he hated the people, the system, and the circumstances that caused her nightmares.

You haven’t had one in a while. Do you think it was the Kansas case that brought it up again?

Probably. The girls were so young, and Grant was so heartless.

I’m sure that Aubrey’s death played a role, too. She left a young daughter behind, as well.

It all plays a role, I guess. But you’re right, I’m safe. It was just a dream. Jeri’s tone put an end to the discussion. What time is it?

Ethan sighed, and rolled over, taking Jeri with him.

Nearly six. How about I cook us a big breakfast? He knew that it was useless to try and get any more sleep. The alarm was set to go off in an hour.

Thanks, but I’m really not hungry. Jeri rearranged the covers, snuggling up to his side. Can we just lay here awhile?

Surprised by her request, Ethan tightened his arm around her. Normally, after one of her nightmares, Jeri needed to get up, get moving. This, he felt, was progress.

Chapter Two

Have you seen my phone? Jeri came into the kitchen dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower.

It’s on the sideboard in the dining room, Ethan told her, glancing up from the stack of papers on the table in front of him.

What’s it doing in there? Jeri went in search of the phone, trying to remember why she’d left it in such an odd place.

There’s still no word about the letters, Ethan informed her, knowing full well what she was after. The lab report should be in this afternoon.

What’s taking them so long? Prisoners do not have access to gloves, right? If Tyler Burgess sent them, then traces of him should be there. At the very least, we should have fingerprints. Jeri grabbed a piece of toast from Ethan’s plate as she plopped down beside him.

You know it’s not that simple. Burgess could have used his clothes to wipe off any prints. And getting gloves would be a piece of cake, even in prison.

Not on death row. I should have killed him when I had the chance, Jeri grumbled, bringing up the text messages on her phone.

The state of Montana will do that for you, in about six months. Ethan motioned to the file he’d been reading. He’s one sick bastard, that’s for sure. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy.

Agreed, Jeri looked up from her phone. I can’t help worrying that he had an accomplice, someone on the outside who’s sending the letters to Celine.

As his only surviving victim, wouldn’t Celine know if he had an accomplice? He held her for two days, right? Before you found them? Did she ever see anyone but Tyler Burgess?

No, and there were no indications that he had an accomplice, not in the evidence we confiscated, or in the trail leading to him. Still, it’s hard to believe that a prisoner on death row managed to send three written death threats to his only living victim.

Burgess was a lawyer, he had money. It’s likely that he found someone who could be bought. A guard, a janitor, a priest, even. Who knows?

If he was incarcerated in New York, or Chicago, sure. But he’s in Montana. His crimes were notorious, and his trial was heavily publicized. People were calling for a public hanging, even before the trial started. I’m surprised he found someone on the inside who would help him do anything.

Don’t underestimate the power of money. But you bring up a good point. He’s notorious. He’s on death row. I realize that the letters are traumatizing for Celine Drew, but they’re only threats. He can’t back any of them up from a jail cell.

Not on his own, no. But if he had an accomplice, he could. Jeri stood and began to pace. Trouble is, it doesn’t feel like anyone else is involved. I know in my gut that Burgess is sending those letters. But why? What does he hope to accomplish?

Psychological torture? Ethan sat back and watched her work. He could almost see the wheels turning.

Not his style. He’s all about physical pain. He’s a true sexual sadist, in every sense of the word.

Maybe he evolved in prison.

It’s possible, Jeri mulled it over. Celine is definitely terrified. She moved after the trial. Pretty much cut herself off from her family, her friends, her job. She’s living in a small town, on the opposite side of the state. How did he find her? He had to have help.

It’s called the internet, Ethan said with a smile. You can pretty much find anything you want.

Thanks, smartass, I’ll remember that, Jeri rolled her eyes at him, and smiled. Celine said that she wiped every profile she had from online. She’s living like a recluse. She swears that the only people who know where to find her are her parents.

And the utility companies, and the banks, and the … Ethan began listing the possibilities.

But he would have to know which companies to search, which banks to search. I’m not saying he couldn’t find her, but he couldn’t do it alone. I want whoever is helping him to pay. Celine Drew suffered enough at his hands, she shouldn’t have to live the next six months in terror.

We’re doing what we can, Love, Ethan reminded her. We’ll go there, if we have to. Sit down with her, one on one. Help her relocate, if she wants it.

You’d really do that, wouldn’t you? Spend thousands of dollars helping a stranger, even though you don’t think the threat is credible.

Hey, it’s only money, Ethan shrugged. Whether the threat is credible, or not, Celine is still terrified, living in fear. Like you said, she’s been through enough.

"Thank you, Ethan. I would like to go to Montana, sit down with her. But I’d rather wait until we have more information on the letters. We should hear something from the lab today. And Anna should have a report on any visitors Burgess had by this afternoon. I also want her to check the bank records of the guards on his cell block, and anyone else he’s had contact with. If he’s paying someone to do his dirty work, we should find a money trail."

That’s a good place to start.

How about we fly out tomorrow?"

I’m with you, Love. I’ll book the pilot. I hear that Montana is beautiful this time of year.

It’s gorgeous, you’ll love it.

Jeri’s phone rang.

Hey Dylan, what’s up? she answered with the phone on speaker.

Tyler Burgess just broke out of prison. Dylan’s voice was terse.

What? How? Jeri stammered, shocked at the news.

He killed two night guards, put on one of their uniforms, and walked out. Happened about three hours ago.

Three hours? He’s had time to get to Celine, or at least get close. Jeri looked at Ethan, who picked up his cell and left the room.

I’ve already sent someone to guard Celine. An old friend of mine lives about an hour from her. I’ve also called Celine, told her to leave. She’s meeting Brent at an all-night truck stop.

They’re what, two hours behind us? Jeri checked her watch. It was almost eight."

Yes. She’s a mess, Jeri. Should I tell her that you’re on your way?

We’ll leave as soon as we can get organized, an hour at most. Can your friend, Brent, stay with her until we get there?

Yes. He’s a good guy, Jer. She’ll be safe with him. Do you want me to come out there?

Maybe, I’m not sure. We should be fine with Chloe and Monique. Let me get back to you on that, okay?

Sure. Whatever you need.

In the meantime, coordinate with Anna. No doubt they’re searching for him, but I want to know details. If he left in one of the guard’s vehicles, he’s probably ditched it by now. Monitor reports of any and all stolen vehicles in the state. Also, try and confirm if one of the guards he killed was helping him. Check their bank records, look for unusual deposits. We need to find his accomplice.

He didn’t have one on the outside. You’re thinking someone’s helping him now?

Definitely. He found Celine, sent the letters. He couldn’t do that from death row, without help.

We’re on it. Let me know if you want my help. I can be on the next flight out.

Thanks, Dylan.

Ethan joined her, just as she was dialing Monique.

The plane will be ready to leave in forty-five minutes, he reported.

Jeri nodded as she spoke.

Monique, we’re leaving for Montana.

Chapter Three

Tyler Burgess glanced at his reflection in the rear view mirror. He’d aged, more than he’d like to admit, but it didn’t matter. Prison life had been hard. It took a toll on the boyish good looks that had always been his best asset. Looks that made it easy to snare any woman he set his sights on, for whatever the reason.

With one hand, he traced the scar along his left cheek. Courtesy of Dylan Dawes, one of the FBI agents responsible for putting him in jail, the scar made him seem meaner, and more mature. The scar had been a constant reminder of the people, and the events, that put him in that hell hole.

Months of testimony, and explanations, along with a slide show of images taken from his personal chamber, led to his incarceration. Lawyers, unworthy of tying his shoe, led a jury of idiots to conclude that he should be put to death. And the judge agreed, quickly, without any deliberation. It was a travesty. A series of wrongs that he intended to right.

Beginning with Miss Celine Drew. His unfinished business with Miss Drew would soon be settled. As much as he had enjoyed their time together, the fact that it was unresolved ate at him throughout the long years since he’d last been in her company.

Her testimony at the trial gave him great pleasure, even though it most certainly sealed his fate. He could still picture her, up on the stand, telling a room filled with onlookers about the time they’d shared. The prosecutor had taken her through every moment of the forty-six hours she had spent in the chamber. By the time her testimony was over, Celine Drew was a wreck.

Some would consider two days of punishment as payment for her crimes.

He was not among them.

Celine Drew, like the five women before her, had made the unforgivable mistake of ignoring his advances. She had not shown the slightest interest in him, even though he sent flowers, cards, and candy. He did his best to win her over, but nothing worked. Then, and only then, had he deemed her a suitable candidate for his chamber.

But their time together had ended much too soon. Thanks to the interloper, Dawes, and his partner, Jeri Forbes. He’d followed both of their careers, knew that they’d left the FBI, and now worked for something called EJB Global.

If everything went as planned, his threats to Miss Drew would be the catalyst for bringing all of the players together, back where he could administer the punishment they each deserved.

You will prove to be irresistible bait, my lovely Miss Drew. Of that I am certain.

Smiling, Tyler Burgess drove the last few miles to his destination, as sure of his future as he’d ever been.

Chapter Four

Brent Hall paused in the doorway of the Midway Diner, searching for the woman he’d been sent to protect.

The place was hopping, every booth filled with a variation of the same weary traveler, guzzling coffee, and diving into plates piled with food.

Scanning the room, his eyes fell on a woman sitting alone, her eyes glued to the door like a frightened animal. It had to be her. The hair was different from the photo Dylan texted, but the look on her face spoke volumes. That, and the fact that she had obviously dressed in a hurry, convinced him that she was the one.

Her eyes followed him as he walked toward her. Unblinking, they widened as he stopped next to her.

Hi, Celine, I’m Brent. Dylan sent me. Sliding into the booth opposite her as he spoke, he tossed a card on the table, his name facing up.

Taken aback by his casual approach, Celine continued to stare. The picture Dylan sent did not do this man justice. He looked more like a rugged cowboy, straight out of an old western, than he did a private investigator.

You were expecting me, weren’t you? Frowning, Brent reached for his phone, pulled up the instructions from Dylan, and showed the text to her.

Yes, yes, I was, she stammered. Thank you for coming.

Not a problem. Brent glanced down at the uneaten food in front of her. Breakfast not any good?

What? Oh, no, I mean, I don’t know. Celine took a deep breath, and tried to focus. The past few weeks had been one long roller coaster ride, culminating in her being jarred from a restless sleep, and being told to get out of her home. Now. Dylan made it clear that thinking about it wasn’t an option. Not that she would have wasted a moment, once he told her that The Judge had escaped.

May as well eat something, while we’re here. We could be on the road for a few days. Brent motioned to the waitress for coffee. Celine looked as though she were ready to jump out of her skin. He needed her to relax, at least a bit, before they headed out.

Days? Really? Do you think it will take that long for them to catch him? She spoke quietly, calmly. Anyone listening in would think they were discussing a missing horse, or a dog. Only if they looked at her, saw the trembling hands, and the stark terror filling her eyes, would they know she referred to a monster.

Don’t know, hope not. But don’t you worry, we’ll keep you safe for as long as we need to, Brent nodded, emphasizing his assurance.

Dylan said that Jeri is coming, Celine gave a half-smile to the waitress, stopping to fill Brent’s outstretched cup.

I’ll have what she’s having, please, Darlin’. Brent smiled charmingly at the burly woman holding the coffee pot.

"Coming up, Darlin’." The waitress couldn’t hide her smile as she flounced away.

Brent returned his attention to Celine.

Last I heard, Jeri and her team are set to arrive early this afternoon. We’ll rendezvous with them at some point. In the meantime, eat up, before it gets cold.

Brent was pleased to see that she followed his instructions, tentatively picking up the fork, and spearing the eggs. As she raised her arm, her sleeve slid down, revealing a long, jagged scar, starting from the underside of her wrist, and disappearing beneath the fabric.

Holy hell. The words escaped his lips before he realized his mistake. Almost immediately, she dropped the fork, and hid her arm beneath the table.

I’m sorry, Brent tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him. It’s just…, I didn’t expect…, I’m sorry. If it were possible to give himself a swift kick in the backside, he would have done it, right then and there. He knew some of what she’d been through, knew that she was the only person to survive Burgess’s torture, but he hadn’t expected to see evidence of it, not like this.

It’s okay, really. Celine felt the shame wash over her again, as it often did, at the strangest times. In her mind, she knew that she had nothing to be ashamed of, she’d done nothing wrong. The rape crisis counselor, along with the three shrinks she’d visited since then, had all told her that it was normal to feel that way, even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent the event.

 They’d all called it the event, as though being raped and tortured for two days was something one would put on a calendar, or rent a venue, and send invitations. She could see it now, a beautiful cream, no, white, card, with delicately scripted lettering.

‘We hereby request the honor of your presence for the extreme humiliation, and severe punishment, of Ms. Celine Drew. The Honorable Judge Tyler Burgess presiding.’

 He’d made her call him ‘Judge’, told her that she deserved everything he