State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller (23 page)

“Can you blame them?” Beverly narrowed her
eyes. “Would
you
want to see the
headless
body of
your
family member in a
true crime
book for the whole
world to gawk at?”

“No, but—”

“No
buts
!” argued Beverly, her point
being made. She suddenly felt sorry for the author and decided to
bend a little for her trouble. “I’ll authorize the release of a
couple of benign
crime scene
photographs, but none of the
body. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it,” Lydia swallowed
respectfully.

“Good.” Beverly stood, waiting for her to do
the same. “Leave your number with Jean and I’ll be in touch. I’ll
also expect a copy of the book when it’s published.”

Lydia smiled. “Count on it.”

Beverly saw her out and decided impromptu to
take the rest of the day off. She’d earned it and would do
something with Jaime.

Maybe she would invite Grant over for dinner
afterwards and they could continue where he left off when he told
her he’d fallen in love with her.

Did he really love her?

The idea excited Beverly. Perhaps as much as
realizing that her growing sentiments towards Grant were exactly
the same.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Manuel watched from his car as the Latina
lawyer, her son, another boy around the same age, and a tall black
man left the house. He suspected the man wanted to get in the
broad’s pants. If he hadn’t already. Everyone was casually dressed,
suggesting they weren’t on their way to somewhere fancy.

They drove away in the man’s Cadillac. Manuel
wondered if he was a lawyer, too. Or maybe a stockbroker.

After they were out of sight, Manuel quietly
crept from the car and made his way to the side of the house. The
fact that tall, thick trees surrounded it, as if a fortress, made
it hard for nosey neighbors to see what was going on. It was more
than he could have asked for.

He tried a couple of windows and found that
they were locked. Impatient, he grabbed with gloved hands a nice
sized rock that seemed like it was waiting for him to arrive and
make good use of. He slammed it only once into a side window,
causing it to shatter, glass flying in all directions.

Undoing the lock, he raised the window and
climbed in.

The first thing Manuel did was look around
for a security system. Surprisingly he didn’t find one. The bitch
must have thought she didn’t need protection in this old, but
well-preserved, neighborhood.

Think again.

Only one light was left on in the house. He
figured it was probably to scare burglars from entering.

Wrong again, he laughed.

On the kitchen counter he found some
half-opened mail. He lifted up something with her name on it.

Beverly Mendoza.

Another letter was addressed her as Assistant
District Attorney.

So the hot Latina wasn’t just any lawyer,
Manuel mused, piqued. She put badass Latinos like him away in
prison. Sometimes for life.

But now maybe I’ll turn the tables and
make you my prisoner!
Give her a taste of what it was like to
be in bondage, subject to someone else’s will and desires.

He moved swiftly from room to room, surveying
all there was to see. It wasn’t as big as some cribs he’d been in,
but still bigger than he was used to living in. And nicer.

Manuel saw no indication that an adult male
lived there. He suspected that the boy’s father had probably dumped
the bitch when he found out she was pregnant.

In her bedroom, Manuel pocketed some jewelry
that he could hock. He wondered what that old fart at the pawnshop
would give him for these...

Then he went into the lady’s lingerie drawer
and pulled out a red silk thong. He put the crotch up to his nose,
inhaling the faint odor of her mixed with perfume and detergent. It
turned him on. He imagined her wearing them, as well as seeing her
without anything covering her privates.

When it was time, he would make the bitch
wear this thong just for him.

Searching the house for money, Manuel found a
few bills stashed here and there and a couple of credit cards. If
lucky, they would net him a few thousand before she could report
them as stolen.

Manuel lay on her soft bed for a moment or
two, nearly falling asleep as he dreamed of what it would be like
to take Beverly Mendoza in this bed—with her doing whatever the
hell he wanted. Making her enjoy it almost as much as he would.

Maybe even forcing her boy to watch. Learn a
few things from a Latin lover.

Until it was time for the boy’s Mama to be
put out of her misery, like a wounded animal.

Permanently.

Then he would take care of the kid. He didn’t
like killing kids, taking away their lives too soon. He had seen
friends die before they ever got laid. Or knew that there was life
outside the hood. Most were victims of gang retaliation, sometimes
from within the same gang.

But he wasn’t going back to prison for
anyone, not if he could help it. Not even for a snot-nosed kid.
Dead witnesses couldn’t talk. Not unless there was such a thing as
coming back from the dead.

Manuel took another sweep of the house,
searching for weapons. If the broad had a piece, she must have
taken it with her.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a few oatmeal
raisin cookies from a jar, eating them whole one by one.

Then he waited.

Come home soon, lawyer lady
.
Guess
who
’
s coming for dinner and dessert?

Manuel broke into a hearty laugh, his libido
rising as he envisioned himself forcing her to do his bidding. He
would teach her what he wanted and demand that she give it to
him.

Just like the others.

As if to psyche himself up, Manuel whipped
out his switchblade and began practicing what he planned to do to
Beverly Mendoza.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The judge’s chambers were large with plush
new carpeting and contemporary furnishings, including a wraparound
walnut desk and high backed swivel chair. Plush cushiony chairs
surrounded a wooden octagonal pedestal table. A couple of beautiful
trailing fuchsias hung from the ceiling and looked as if they
belonged. Adjoining the chambers was a full sized bathroom and a
conference room.

“Nice digs, Judge Nunez,” teased Beverly.
They had decided impromptu to visit his chambers.

“Yeah,” Jaime seconded, doing a three hundred
and sixty degree turn.

“Yeah, way cool,” agreed Paco, Jaime’s
friend. He was a little taller than Jaime and Beverly could see the
Native American heritage Jaime said Paco had on his mother’s side
in his prominent features.

“Thanks, but they’re pretty standard judge’s
chambers,” Grant said modestly. “No big deal.”

Beverly knew it was far more than that to
him. Becoming a judge was the culmination of a lifelong dream. And
he had made it before reaching forty-one. She wondered just how far
he could go.

And how much she would have to play catch
up?

Grant smiled at her. “Well...let’s head out
to the arcade,” he said.

It was his suggestion that they go to an
arcade and the boys were quick to approve. Beverly knew that Grant
was trying hard to fit in and she was grateful for that. Neither
had broached the subject of love since he left her with that
thought by phone the other day. But it stayed with Beverly and made
her assess her own feelings and where to go with them.

“Sounds good to me,” she said, face upturned
to meet his eyes.

Grant held her gaze. “Glad you think so.”
Damn, she looks nice.

In that moment Grant wanted to kiss Beverly,
but thought better. Now was not the time. This was his moment to be
buddy-buddy with Jaime and his friend. And maybe show he could also
be a good surrogate father, should it come to that.

What Grant knew for certain was that he
didn’t regret for one moment expressing his true feelings to
Beverly. He only needed to hear the words from her to know that
what they had was real and would only get better.

But that could wait. For the moment, he was
content to be able to spend time with her, even as they worked on
their careers and made the tough choices.

* * *

The arcade was packed with young people and a
few older ones. Jaime and Paco seemed to lose themselves in games
and Beverly watched in admiration as Grant did his best to keep up.
The boys seemed to appreciate Grant’s efforts and were happy to
have him around them.

Beverly felt that Grant was showing more and
more of what she was looking for in a man to build a future with.
She hoped he saw the same in her and would give them the time to
continue nurturing what they had and let things develop at their
own pace.

They had a meal at Pizza Hut before dropping
Paco off at home. Beverly promised that the next time she would
come in to meet his mother, whom she had spoken to on the phone a
couple of times.

Grant pulled up to Beverly’s house. He kept
the car running in the driveway, declining an invitation to come
in.

“You sure you can’t stay for a little while?”
Beverly faced him with a look of disappointment after Jaime had
already begun to head up the walkway.

“Not sure at all,” Grant said in a deep
voice. “But if I do, I may never want to leave. At least not this
night—”

“Then don’t,” she surprised herself by
saying. “Jaime knows we’re seeing each other. When he disappears
into his room to go to bed, we can quietly go to mine.” She
wondered just how quiet they could manage to be once there.

“Tempting as hell.” Grant groaned
salaciously. “But I can’t, Bev. I have some important work to do
that will probably keep me up half the night. Can I take a rain
check?”

Beverly hid her confusion. She felt like she
was throwing herself at him. Only he wasn’t there to break her
fall.

“Of course you can,” she said, making herself
smile. “But honestly, your rain checks are piling up, Grant. Hope
you don’t end up with more than you can handle.”

He laughed uncomfortably. “I can handle as
many as it takes where it concerns you, baby—”

She looked at him with a straight face.
“You’re sure about that?”

Grant honed in on her eyes. “As sure as I am
about this...” He leaned over and kissed her hard on the mouth till
Beverly felt it right down to her toes. When Grant pulled back, he
said, “Does that convince you?”

Beverly touched her stinging lips, wishing
more than ever that he would stay for further exploration of each
other. But she would give him the time he needed to make more time
for them.

“Yes, it does,” she uttered.

Grant beamed. “Great. Oh, and by the way, I
do love you, Bev.”

She grinned and gazed at him. “I love you,
too.”

Beverly held his cheeks and kissed him again,
before leaving the car. She didn’t want to spoil the moment by
saying the wrong thing or expecting too much, too soon.

After waving goodbye and feeling giddy
inside, Beverly headed toward the house contemplatively. That was
when she heard the scream.

It was Jaime. “Mom—!”

* * *

Beverly bolted up the walkway and into the
house. She was afraid he might have tripped in the darkness and
hurt himself.

“Jaime...?” Beverly saw no sign of him as she
crossed the living room and dining room before passing by the
kitchen.

Jaime darted from the den like his pants were
on fire. “The window’s broken in there!” he shrieked. “I think
somebody was in the house—”

Beverly raced by him and into the den. She
saw the broken glass splattered across the red cedar flooring near
the window. Her first thought was that it could have been a tree
branch that caused the damage. Then she saw the unmistakable dirty
imprint of a shoe near the window.

Panic seized her. Someone had broken in.

And might still be inside the house!

The first thing on Beverly’s mind was Jaime’s
safety.

“Jaime—!” Her voice broke with trepidation.
She ran out into the hall and nearly collided with her son. “Stay
here!” she ordered.

“No!” He stood his ground. “I’m coming with
you.”

Beverly knew this was no time to argue. If
the intruder was still in the house it was probably best that she
keep Jaime within eyesight.

She grabbed his hand and ran back into the
kitchen where she had dumped her handbag. Inside was her Glock. She
removed the gun, released the safety, and began to search the rest
of the house. She had never actually used the .40 caliber weapon,
but had taken a firearms class and was prepared to shoot anyone who
threatened her or Jaime.

Whoever had been in the house was gone.

But not before stealing some money, jewelry,
and credit cards, Beverly realized. They had also taken away her
very false sense of security.

* * *

The police came, took her report, and
collected evidence of the crime.

Beverly phoned Grant on his cell phone before
he got home. He came right over.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her
for the umpteenth time.

“As well as I can be,” she said, feeling
almost embarrassed that this had happened in
her
house.
After being given clearance by the police, Jaime had retreated to
the relative safety of his room.

Beverly sat huddled on the living room couch
beside Grant, his arm around her, as if staking his claim.

“It doesn’t look like they made off with
much,” she told him, trying to keep from shaking. “At least nothing
that can’t be replaced.”

Yet Beverly still couldn’t help but feel as
if she had been violated.

“Why the hell don’t you have a security
system?” Grant scolded her like a misbehaving child.