Judge Not: Gateway Investigations, #3

By Clara Kendrick

This is the third book of the Gateway Investigations series containing 49,000 words of romantic suspense.

 

Someone is threatening to kill my mother. Of course, it's not that I've never felt like the woman needed a few good threats, but I'm her daughter. That's sort of my right. See, my mother is a judge and someone really wants to sway her opinion on a case she's currently presiding over. So what better way to do that than to threaten her family? Of course, if the idiots knew her at all, they'd focus on my sister. She's the favorite. But me? I'm the tough one. My mother might be willing to turn down a little help from an outside private investigations company, but I'm not. If a super hot investigator named Zeke wants to help me find out who's threatening my family. I'm all in. No matter what it takes…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clara Kendrick
• Release date: Sep 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9798224812820

Clara Kendrick

Discover the captivating world of Clara Kendrick's romantic suspense. With her masterful storytelling and skillful blend of intrigue, romance, and passion, Kendrick draws readers in and keeps them hooked until the very end. Get ready to be swept away by her thrilling and steamy tales of love and suspense. Signup and follow at: Books2read.com/ClaraKendrick Facebook.com/AuthorClaraKendrick

Book preview

Chapter One

Mitch Pulaski turned the vial of poison over and over in his hand. A week ago some jackass had tried to pay a young waitress to slip it into Mitch’s pastry. Death by pastry. Nice. Fortunately the waitress was a friend. Of course, Keisha’s description of the man who had attempted to have Mitch poisoned was about as generic as it got. Blond hair, preppy clothes, generic-looking guy. Great. Keisha had described one out of every four men living in the Saint Louis Metropolitan area. Her description also applied to a man named Boone Crawford. Boone had just been arrested a week ago for kidnapping and conspiracy to murder one of Mitch’s best investigators.

Maybe it was time for him to back it up and try to put the pieces together. If he didn’t get this figured out, someone was going to put a bullet in his brain and leave him on the sidewalk somewhere. Yes, he had pissed off that many people lately. It was true.

You look worried.

Fantastic. Hanging out with the ex-wife was just what Mitch felt like doing right now. Colleen had the sort of blonde-haired, blue-eyed looks that other women killed for. She was tall and willowy and pretty much the most beautiful woman that Mitch had ever seen. Of course, that was not the reason he hadn’t gotten married again, no matter what his daughter Shawna was always saying.

Colleen sat right down at his table and raised her hand to order a coffee from the waitress. Today he was sitting inside the coffee shop because the sweltering summer heat was too much to bear. Usually he commandeered an outdoor table complete with awning and shade. Still, through the front windows he could see the justice center across the street squatting like a nine-story-tall glass and brick dragon.

Kiesha hustled over to their table with Colleen’s usual latte in her hands. Well hello Mrs. Pulaski! How are you this morning? The girl’s beautiful cocoa-colored skin was a stark contrast to her brilliant white smile.

Colleen smiled right back. She had always been a friendly sort of woman. In fact, she got along with pretty much everybody but Mitch. Good morning, Kiesha. How have you been lately?

I got accepted to cosmetology school, Kiesha said excitedly. I’m so thrilled I could pop! I even got a grant to pay for it!

Colleen reached out and lightly touched the girl’s arm. Kiesha I am so glad for you. That’s wonderful!

Kiesha patted Mitch’s shoulder. I couldn’t have done it without this guy here. She gave Colleen a sly look. But then you know how great he is.

I know he has the capability of being great, Colleen agreed with a laugh. And I’m very glad he’s helped you out.

"Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?" Mitch grumbled. He didn’t really mind, but it was high time he reminded the women that he was not just furniture.

Colleen patted his arm as though he were sitting in a rocking chair with an afghan over his legs. Yes of course dear.

He didn’t have anything to say to that. What was the point anyway? He was sitting there, across the street from the justice center, trying to figure out why someone would want to poison him and wondering how it was connected to his son-in-law’s legal problems.

Mitch, Colleen said gently once Kiesha had gone back to work. You sit here every single morning now just staring over there as though you think you can break Jackson out of jail with the power of your mind.

It’s possible. He really didn’t care to discuss this case with Colleen. Then he remembered the vial in his hand. He held it up. Last week someone tried to pay Kiesha to pour this into my pastry.

No. Colleen’s blue eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. Then her features settled into a look of serious contemplation. She was a very astute woman. He had no doubt that she already had a dozen or more possible reasons why someone would want to do such a thing. Why your pastry? And what is it?

That’s the strangest part, Mitch muttered. He stared at the vial and turned it over in his fingers. It’s drain cleaner. I thought it would be some kind of high-tech substance, but it wasn’t. It’s like someone was either just trying to mess with me or really didn’t know what they were doing.

Drain cleaner? Colleen sipped her coffee. And you have no idea who was responsible for this?

Kiesha’s description seems to partially match the looks of that asshole they arrested last week for trying to murder Frankie. It still burned Mitch that one of his investigators had been singled out by a wannabe serial killer. But I don’t know. He smiled sweetly at his ex-wife. Maybe I should put you on my list of suspects. Maybe you are that tired of me.

Stop. Colleen cocked her head to the side and smirked at him. I will admit that poison is considered a female mode of murder, but I’d like to think I could come up with something a little better than drain cleaner.

Mitch gazed at the woman he had once asked to be his wife. They weren’t twenty anymore. They were pushing fifty. And yet she affected him more now than she ever had as a young woman.

Are you still dating that loser stock broker? Mitch asked suddenly.

Colleen lifted her elegant eyebrows. Excuse me? When did my love life become relevant to this discussion?

"Maybe he tried to poison me, Mitch said mockingly. You know, to get rid of the competition."

Roland doesn’t feel threatened by you, Mitch. Colleen sipped her latte and looked so unconcerned that it burned his self-esteem. He knows how I feel about him.

Dammit. There was absolutely no hint in there as to how Colleen actually felt. He told himself it didn’t matter. He was just keeping an eye on her because he felt responsible for her and she had shitty taste in men. Yes. That was it. Totally shitty taste in men, if you considered a multi-millionaire who owned a penthouse downtown that offered a view of the interior of Busch Stadium. The guy could watch professional baseball games from the comfort of his own home and was probably rich enough to buy the team if he wanted to. Plus he seemed to dote on Colleen. It was horrible.

Mitch? Colleen’s voice had that patient tone that Mitch equated to their early years of marriage where he spent all of his time listening to her tell him what he had done wrong. What’s going on here?

I don’t know. Mitch slipped he vial back into his pocket. I just feel off balance. I don’t really know what’s happening with this case and that bothers me.

You must feel satisfied that Judge Morrison has stepped down from the case. Now she sounded coaxing. Great. She felt like he was so incompetent that she was reduced to be his cheerleader. That must be attractive to her.

Wait. Why did he care if she found him attractive anymore? Dammit! Focus. He needed to focus. I am glad, Mitch said, remembering that getting rid of Morrison was one of the major steps to getting Jackson out of jail. They’ve assigned Judge Olsen to the case. She’s extremely fair and she has already allowed Jackson to meet with his own attorney.

So things are proceeding the way they should. Colleen continued to sip her latte and look very composed.

Mitch wished that he felt composed. He was just worried that something else was going to go wrong. Then the shit would hit the fan, his son-in-law would wind up in prison, and his daughter would never forgive him for failing her.

Oh, look! Colleen was waving to someone who had just walked in the front door of the café. It’s Zeke.

Mitch turned to stare. Zeke was one of his investigators. The man was the most by-the-book individual that Mitch had ever met. He excelled at protocol the way Mitch’s usual employees excelled at breaking rules to get the job done. His extreme attention to detail was a small part of what made Zeke such a valuable member of the team. At the moment, he looked like someone had pissed in his cornflakes that morning.

Good morning, Ms. Pulaski, Zeke said politely. Then he turned to Mitch. We’ve had a development and it isn’t good.

What happened? Mitch felt like the other shoe had finally dropped although it was a useless exercise in futility to run around predicting failure.

Zeke squatted beside the table and looked up at Mitch. Judge Esther Olsen received a threat last night.

A threat? Mitch’s stomach clenched. Someone apparently did not want Jackson to have a fair trial. What sort of threat?

It’s against her family. Zeke’s lips pressed together in a thin line. His close-cropped dark hair and intense dark eyes left no doubt in his mind that this was a serious thing. The police are taking a report right now, Zeke continued. I don’t know any more than that. Do you want me to stay on this?

Absolutely. Mitch needed Judge Olsen to stay healthy and in control of this case. It’s plain that whatever was going to happen under Judge Morrison was planned out by whoever is framing Jackson for the murder. I need Judge Olsen in one piece.

Meaning you want me to find out who is behind the threats and make them stop, Zeke said grimly. I can take care of that.

Just stay low. I can contact Detective Kramer and let him know that we’re staying involved with this, Mitch told Zeke.

Colleen gave a delicate snort. "As if poor Jason Kramer doesn’t already know that you can’t keep out of anything involving Jackson’s case. He’s probably surprised that you aren’t sleeping on the judge’s couch already."

That wouldn’t be to our benefit, Mitch told Colleen, pretending that he had actually considered it, or I would be. I think that constitutes a conflict of interest.

The corner of Zeke’s mouth quirked up in a grin. It was the most amusement the man ever showed. He was so damn serious all the time. Occasionally the other investigators like to play pranks on Zeke just to see if they could crack that hard demeanor he had going on.

Go on. Mitch waved Zeke toward the door. See what you can find out from the judge and her family. Explain who you are. Explain what you’re willing to do. Perhaps she’ll be receptive.

Zeke didn’t look very amenable to that. It’s not exactly within the rules, Zeke said slowly. Nobody but the police should be talking to the judge. We don’t want anyone to accuse us later of creating a situation where we were racking up favors. If Jackson gets a mistrial because of that it will have all been for nothing.

Mitch groaned. Just be flexible this once! It’s fine. I promise. We’re talking about a woman who is divorced and has two daughters in their twenties. She’s going to want as much help as anyone is willing to offer her.

I don’t know. Colleen finished her latte and set the cup aside. I’ve known Esther for years and I have to tell you that she’s about as flexible with the rules as Zeke here.

Zeke’s mouth quirked up in another smile. This one looked nearly genuine. Thank you for that compliment, ma’am.

Anytime. Colleen patted Zeke’s hand. Now, you go and do what you need to do. But don’t compromise your conscience. I have a feeling that’s one of your most powerful assets.

Thank you, ma’am. Zeke nodded and left.

Mitch noticed that Zeke did not look to him again before leaving the café. Apparently the young man had decided enough was enough when it came to his boss’s lawbreaking ways.

Mitch managed to wait until Zeke was gone before frowning at Colleen. You totally just undermined me with my employee.

You needed undermining, she said mildly. Seriously. You cannot make that man act against his personal value system.

He needs to learn to be flexible, Mitch insisted.

Now Colleen patted him on the hand. But you aren’t going to be the one to teach him that.

Mitch sighed. God save him from women who meddled, especially the ones who seemed to be able to wrap him around their little fingers with little to no effort.

Chapter Two

You must be joking. Tabitha Olsen stared at the detective and tried to decide if the pompous little shit was fucking with them or being honestly serious. You want us to just sit here and wait for someone to make an attempt on our lives?

Exactly. Detective Robin Robertson flashed a toothy smile that seemed to be directed primarily at Tabitha’s twin sister Meredith. If the three of you go about your normal business, not only will the person making the threats realize that he hasn’t intimidated you−which is his main goal−he will also begin to make mistakes that will enable my department to catch him.

You must be joking. Tabitha repeated the words again because she was hoping that Robertson hadn’t heard her the first time. This is ridiculous!

Robertson was obviously an idiot. If Tabby hadn’t already watched him make a complete numbskull out of himself ten times over with all his press conferences and dancing around the fact that he could not investigate his way out of a paper bag, she would have still hated him. He was blond and primped and used more hair gel than any man had a right to. His expression was condescending and he most definitely spent his spare time in a tanning booth. He didn’t look like a cop. He didn’t look like an investigator. And he did not look capable of keeping her or her family safe from a bug, let alone a blackmailing potential killer.

Tabitha turned to her mother, but Esther Olsen was sitting primly on her sofa with Merry by her side. Both women looked composed and almost resigned. What the fuck? Was Tabby the only one who realized that this shit could get very real very fast?

Mom! Tabby glared at her mother. Someone just threatened your life. They threatened Merry’s life and mine. Don’t you want them to pay for that? You’re just doing your job. That’s fine. But why are we letting them win by doing nothing?

Detective Robertson gave a very non-discreet cough. That isn’t letting them win, Tabitha.

You don’t know me well enough to call me that, Tabby snapped. You may address me as Miss Olsen.

Fine, Miss Olsen. Robertson’s expression soured considerably.

Apparently he did not appreciate being reminded that he wasn’t really part of their family, their social circle, or anything else that would ever bring him within ten feet of their