Authors: Linda Cajio
She had risked enough. But she had found answers too. She was disappointing her father with her decision, but she couldn’t help it. She had to do what she thought was right. One question
still bothered her, and she said, “I don’t understand why Edna left her shares to me. I guess I never will.”
“Edna was a bit of a mercenary herself,” her father said. “She probably recognized the same quality in Michael and didn’t like it. Edna always was a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do person. I wouldn’t be surprised if she left them to you, just to rub Michael’s nose in it.”
“One hell of a family you’ve got,” Paul muttered.
Roger bristled, but Madeline said, “Unfortunately, you’re right. But I never thought anyone would go this far.”
“Neither did I,” Judith agreed. She had received a wake-up call from it. She took her parents’ hands. “I have to go. I’ll see you at the board meeting. I promise.”
Her father tightened his grip. “Stay with us. I’ll hire a hundred bodyguards to surround the house, whatever it takes to keep you safe. I’m afraid for you if you go.”
“She’ll be okay, Mr. Collier,” Paul said. “The trick is to make sure they don’t know where she is. I’ll take care of that. All I ask of you is to not tell anyone you’ve seen her. This hotel is open enough.”
“But it was worth coming here.” Judith smiled at Paul. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t. Don’t worry, Dad. Paul’s a retired cop. I trust him implicitly.”
She kissed her parents good-bye. Much as she hated leaving them in an anxious state, she had handled their talk without caving in. Now all she had to do was face down a room full of Colliers.
If she made it that far.
Paul turned his truck into the parking slot, then glanced over at Judith. She was sound asleep. She had been for nearly an hour now. Her face was half shadowed in the glow of the dash lights. Even so he could see the lines of fatigue drawing down her mouth.
Despite the visit being ill advised, and half of him still feeling she had been far too exposed, he was glad she’d had the chance to see her parents. The way she had been with them had left him searching his own heart. After witnessing her father’s high-handedness, Paul had been ready to come out swinging on Judith’s behalf. But she had been strong in her own right. And forgiving. Judith saw the grays in people, not just the black and white. He loved her all the more for it.
Paul wondered about Amanda. Did she see grays now? Did she want him at her Holy Communion because he was her father and nothing else mattered? Did he, by seeing things only in black and white, not give his child a chance for anything else? What would he
really
open the door for if he did go to Amanda’s Communion?
The questions battered at him after the day’s
revelations. But right now the latter took precedence. He turned off the car and shook Judith gently.
“Wake up, Judith. We’re here.”
She stirred and blinked, looking out the windshield. “Where’s here?”
“A motel in north Los Angeles.”
“
North
L.A.?”
He nodded. “Another retired cop owns it. Even if someone comes sniffing this far, they won’t get past Bill. We’ve used this as a safe house from time to time for that reason. I’ve already registered us.”
“I must have slept through that.”
He grinned. “You did. You can sleep again in a few minutes.”
She climbed out of the truck without another word. Paul followed her, bringing their few things. He unlocked the door to their room and turned on a light. The room’s furnishings were the standard one bed, one chair, one dresser, one television, two nightstands, and two lamps.
“I think my trailer was bigger,” she said.
Paul chuckled. “I know it was.”
He set their things down on the dresser. He felt awkward, like a boy with his first date and not knowing what to say beyond the obvious. They had seemed to resolve things at her friend’s house, and they had talked on the way up about her cousin and her parents. Now they were alone.
“I think I want to take a shower,” Judith said.
“Okay.”
She went into the bathroom. Paul took a few steps to the window, fiddled with the air-conditioning unit underneath, then stretched out on the bed. He listened to the water running. He imagined it splashing over her body … running down her breasts … across her belly … sluicing over her thighs.
The water turned off.
He tensed, waiting. The movements in the bathroom only heightened his awareness. Judith emerged in an unrevealing nightgown and robe. She fluffed her wet hair with one hand while she turned off the bathroom light with the other.
Paul got up from the bed, not wanting her to be uncomfortable. She paused.
“I thought you would take the bed,” she said.
Not the words he wanted to hear. He cleared his throat. “I thought you would.”
“You did all the driving. I got some sleep.”
“You need the rest.”
She smiled. “Didn’t we have this argument in Mexico?”
He nodded. “And the results were spectacular. Would you … would you like to make them spectacular again?” He realized how stupid he sounded. “Damn, that was awful. I’m not good at this. I don’t know what to do.”
“Neither do I.” She chuckled. “I can hostess
a party for three hundred people, but I don’t know what to do with one man.”
He walked toward her. “You wrap me around your little finger.”
This time she laughed. “Hardly.”
“Oh, yeah. You do. Let’s go to sleep. No pressure.”
But their lovemaking was sweet and slow, begun tentatively and ending with a burst of passion that rocked them to their foundations. The fire of need brought them to a new place, where Paul could feel a cleansing and a renewal within him.
Judith’s innocent enthusiasms for life had brought him back to himself through her love.
He would keep her safe.
Judith smoothed down her suit jacket for the fortieth time, well aware of the nervous gesture, but it kept her hands busy. They would be shaking if she didn’t.
Their stay at the “safe” motel had been uneventful, but hardly quiet. She felt renewed and more secure with Paul now. They had talked about many things until she felt she really knew him. Walking into the old white stucco and clay tile building of Collier Chocolates, though, had sent her already-jangled nerves skittering. Now that she was at the board meeting, the tension increased tenfold.
She was grateful for Paul’s support as they walked through the busy lobby. They stopped at the receptionist’s desk and identified themselves. Since Judith knew where the conference room was, the woman waved them through without an escort.
“Do you see your cousin?” Paul asked. He wore a blue shirt and linen trousers, threatening her equilibrium further with his hard-edged virility.
“No, I haven’t.” She asked a return question. “Do you see that guy?”
“Not yet.”
“Try to sound optimistic, why don’t you.”
“This is too easy, so I wouldn’t be surprised if something does happen.”
She shivered, hoping his caution was misplaced. “I don’t see how anything could. We have only to go through the processing room to the corporate offices on the other side.”
They walked through a set of double doors into the factory area itself. The place was sparkling white, nearly blinding in its cleanliness. People worked at individual stations, in European fashion. The windows of the offices looked down on the candy-making center. The bitter odor of cocoa beans and the rich scents of finished chocolate permeated the place.
“This doesn’t look like the old
I Love Lucy
episode,” Paul said.
Judith grinned. She hadn’t missed that one
TV show. “That’s a candy maker’s classic. But the people who work the dipping table have years of experience. That’s the equivalent of a master’s degree in candy mak—”
Judith choked on her words, nearly biting her tongue as the man who had tried to kidnap her in Mexico suddenly materialized from around a work station. Like all the other workers, he wore a white coat, paper booties, and a plastic hair cap. He even had an identification badge attached to his jacket pocket.
Judith would never know what the man intended, for Paul launched himself at the guy before he could say “Boo!” The two went down in a heap, knocking into the station. Little balls of chocolate flew everywhere, a number of them breaking and sending up fumes of whiskey. People screamed and scattered.
Judith raced in, desperate to help Paul. She picked up a handful of the chocolate liqueur balls and pelted the other man with them.
“Hey!” Paul yelped when she accidentally hit him.
Unfortunately, her interference gave the other man an opportunity to get away. He heaved Paul off him and scrambled for the emergency exit. Paul raced after him and Judith raced after Paul … but not before she picked up the man’s ID badge. The name Jim Smith meant nothing to her, but it might to someone else.
Outside, the man made it to his car before
Paul could get him. He sped away. Paul cursed and turned to her.
“JA403B,” he said.
Judith gaped at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“His license. JA403B. Write it down.”
She got out what she needed from her folder and wrote down the license number. “I got his Collier badge.” She handed it to Paul.
He frowned. “It’s probably not a legitimate name.”
“I thought that maybe we could find out who hired him, if he was hired, or who authorized the badge. Someone had to.”
“Good thinking. Where’s a phone so I can call the SDPD?”
“Inside.” They started to walk back, when her relatives burst out of the building. It was like a flood of Colliers, Judith thought in horror, as aunts, uncles, and cousins surrounded them, demanding answers even while making accusations.
Uncle Jerome was the loudest. “What are you doing, Judith? Trying to wreck the factory? And who’s this? He smells like a brewery. Why are you bringing a drunk into my building?”
“He’s Paul Murphy,” Judith said, bristling, even as she noticed one Collier was missing. Michael. She added, “Paul’s not a drunk. He’s a former cop who’s been playing bodyguard for me. He got covered in candy liqueur while trying to protect me from a kidnapper.” She explained what had happened in Mexico.
The family quieted, everyone seemingly shocked at the notion of someone trying to hurt her, until Uncle Jerome harrumphed. “Well, your bodyguard will pay for the damages.”
“No, he won’t,” Judith said.
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl.” Jerome waved his hands. “Everyone inside. We have a meeting to get on with.”
Judith found herself separated from Paul when several family members surrounded her. They immediately pounced.
“How are you voting?”
“Sit next to me at the meeting. I’ll tell you how to vote.”
“No, I will.”
“Nonsense!” Jerome bellowed, stopping to round on them. “You don’t know what you’re doing, girl. Just give your voting privilege to me—”
“No.” Judith managed to get the right word out. “I can’t believe you all care only about my vote after what just happened!”
“Priorities, girl,” Jerome said. “Now, just give me your voting rights, and I’ll take care of everything for you.”
To her surprise, her father broke in. “She’ll vote her stock herself, Jerome.”
“Nonsense!” Jerome glared down his florid nose at Roger. Other voices chimed in, all arguing over how Judith should vote and who should vote for her.
Judith sighed, disgusted with her family.
Paul threaded through the Collier barricade around her. “Your family is pushy.”
“I’ve always wondered how anything got done.”
“Is Michael here?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Stan Markus, the company attorney, whistled for attention.
“We have a meeting,” he said after everyone quieted down.
Reminded of duty, the family began to shuffle into the building. Judith found her parents on either side of her. “Thanks.”
Her father smiled, and her mother patted her arm.
Paul announced he was calling the police. He did it over the objections of most of the family. Judith had to admit he did a good job standing up to them. Colliers verbally flung themselves against his politely solid wall of determination—without a lick of success. She liked that. Once Paul saw her safely inside the conference room, he left to phone the San Diego Police Department.
The meeting was five minutes into the presentation of business, when Judith realized her cousin Michael was nowhere in the room.
“Where’s Michael?” she whispered to her mother.
“He was here earlier. Your father all but accused
him of hiring a thug to get at you. He probably scared Michael off, to begin with.”
“This family has no subtlety,” Judith muttered.
Her mother chuckled in agreement.
Once the presentation was done, Judith steeled herself for what she was about to do. Every head turned toward her in astonishment when she requested the opportunity to speak. It was like facing a firing squad without a blindfold.
“Ahh …” She cleared her throat, hoping to gain some courage through the action. “Obviously the family would do well from this sale, but I am troubled by several things—”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
She forced herself to ignore the interruption. “… The lack of guarantees of continuing workers’ benefits—”
“That can’t be a consideration for us.”
“… And I don’t believe the quality of our name and product will be upheld—”
“That’s why they’re buying Collier, so why wouldn’t they keep it up?”
“… We’ve cared about Collier Chocolates because it’s us. Who we are. What would all of us do without it?” she asked as a last trump card. “Our family is integrally involved in the company operation. That won’t continue if we sell.”
Her relatives stared at her as if she had grown another head. They all began protesting at once that out of all of them, she had no involvement at
all in the company. She might not, she countered, but that didn’t negate her beliefs on the matter. They
had
devoted themselves to Collier, and now they saw only dollar signs. Big dollar signs, granted, but the relatives weren’t looking past them. Finally, her uncle Jerome brought the meeting back to order, banging on the gavel until he put dents on the Brazilian-walnut table.