Dangerous Secrets
Page 1
Chapter One
“He has nasty little habits,” Elizabeth Moore said with a dramatic pause before adding, “both in and out of the bedroom. Things people wouldn’t expect from a judge.”
Julie Harrison fixed her client’s soon to be ex-wife in an unblinking stare from across her desk, intentionally showing no reaction. “Mrs. Moore, you really shouldn’t be here. I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I represent your husband in this divorce and I’m bound by certain laws and preset boundaries that I simply don’t have the liberty to ignore.”
“I’m not surprised he chose you as his attorney,” she replied pointedly. “He has a thing for blondes, you know.” Her gaze crudely raked Julie’s rather voluptuous figure.
There was a silent ‘bimbo’ inference, and it grated on Julie’s nerves, reminding her a little too much of her Vegas showgirl mother and four stepfathers. She’d heard a lot of those inferences in law school, and they’d hurt, but they’d also motivated her to work hard and prove herself. She accepted that she’d never have the Audrey Hepburn elegance that Elizabeth Moore personified years before. Mostly. Once in a blue moon though, she still burned for the instant respect a woman like Mrs. Moore claimed when she entered a room, rather than, well, whatever it was Julie herself evoked in people.
“As I’ve said, Mrs. Moore,” Julie pressed, trying to direct their conversation to an end, “I think it would be best if you have your attorney contact me. I shouldn’t have agreed to see you. When you said this was a matter of life and death, I was concerned for everyone’s safety.”
“I believe you’ll understand what I meant when I finish explaining why I’m here.” Mrs. Moore leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m also certain you’ll agree it’s best kept between the two of us. See, I’m prepared to make my husband’s nasty little habits public if that’s what it takes to get a fair shake in this divorce.”
Alarm bells went off at the shockingly blatant threat, especially considering Elizabeth’s reputation as a charming woman involved in a variety of charitable organizations. Nothing about this visit fit that reputation, but, much to Julie’s disapproval, Judge Moore had cut off all his wife’s credit cards and cash flow. Not only was Elizabeth Moore in a bad position, but her actions drove home that desperation was never smart nor pretty.
“Threatening a sex scandal seems a bit beneath you,” Julie warned softly, hating to see what the judge was bringing out in her, trying to bring her back to reason.
Elizabeth let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, honey, his sexual preferences might be kinky, but they are nothing compared to some of his other, shall we say, addictions.”
Her words lingered in the air for several silent moments, inviting scary prospects to run through Julie’s mind. Against her better judgment, she said, “I’m listening.”
A look of triumph settled on Elizabeth’s face. “As you well know, he’s an art collector. He doesn’t make all of his pieces public. Some of it is kept underground.“ She paused for obvious effect. “In a hidden vault.” A slow smile turned up the corners of Elizabeth’s delicate mouth. “There are people who would be very interested in some of the items my husband has in his keeping. It could cause him quite a bit of trouble.”
“What exactly are you saying?” Julie asked, afraid of what the answer was going to be. Pornography, or worse even, child p**n ography? Please say it isn’t so, she thought.
Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Tell him two can play dirty. It’s best you know nothing more because, while I don’t like you, Ms. Harrison, I don’t want you to end up dead.” With that she turned and headed toward the door.
“Elizabeth,” Julie called out, not wanting to seem too anxious as she barely kept herself in her seat.
Elizabeth turned. “Yes?”
“If it’s that dangerous for me to know whatever this secret is, aren’t you putting yourself in danger by issuing this threat?”
“My husband won’t kill me,” she said. “He won’t kill you, either. But there are others who’ll kill us all if they find out what he’s hiding. He won’t expect this from me. I’ve been weak where he’s concerned. Now that I’ve proven I’m not, he won’t risk me taking this further. He’ll give me what I want.” She gave a nod. “Goodbye, Ms. Harrison.”
Julie watched her leave, stunned by just how nasty this had gotten, then rotated her chair to take in the view from her fifteenth floor downtown Manhattan window. “What in the heck just happened?” she mumbled to the empty room. And why oh why did it have to happen now. Tomorrow, she would leave for Chicago to negotiate the divorce settlement for one of her many professional athlete clients. A few days later, her best friend, Lauren Reynolds, was getting married, and she was maid of honor. Complications were not well-timed.
Sighing, she punched the button on her intercom. “Gina,” she said calling her assistant for the past six months. “Can you please track down Judge Moore?”
“Of course,” Gina said promptly. She was always prompt. Prickly but efficient, and that was what mattered.
Julie reached for her coffee cup, and while she wasn’t usually a drinker, she wished she had some hard stuff right now. At nine o’clock in the morning she was wishing for alcohol. What did that say about her life? She didn’t know what was wrong with her lately, but she had this sense of dissatisfaction that belied her growing high profile client list that should have her reveling in success. Maybe she should consider joining the small firm Lauren had left the District Attorney’s office for. The firm she was with wasn’t a powerhouse, but it wasn’t an ant farm either. Still, she was nearly thirty now, and had to think about her future. After seven years here, she couldn’t say they’d helped her career. She’d been hired to handle corporate law, but they’d thrown her divorce cases no one had wanted and she’d made it work.
“He has nasty little habits,” Elizabeth Moore said with a dramatic pause before adding, “both in and out of the bedroom. Things people wouldn’t expect from a judge.”
Julie Harrison fixed her client’s soon to be ex-wife in an unblinking stare from across her desk, intentionally showing no reaction. “Mrs. Moore, you really shouldn’t be here. I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I represent your husband in this divorce and I’m bound by certain laws and preset boundaries that I simply don’t have the liberty to ignore.”
“I’m not surprised he chose you as his attorney,” she replied pointedly. “He has a thing for blondes, you know.” Her gaze crudely raked Julie’s rather voluptuous figure.
There was a silent ‘bimbo’ inference, and it grated on Julie’s nerves, reminding her a little too much of her Vegas showgirl mother and four stepfathers. She’d heard a lot of those inferences in law school, and they’d hurt, but they’d also motivated her to work hard and prove herself. She accepted that she’d never have the Audrey Hepburn elegance that Elizabeth Moore personified years before. Mostly. Once in a blue moon though, she still burned for the instant respect a woman like Mrs. Moore claimed when she entered a room, rather than, well, whatever it was Julie herself evoked in people.
“As I’ve said, Mrs. Moore,” Julie pressed, trying to direct their conversation to an end, “I think it would be best if you have your attorney contact me. I shouldn’t have agreed to see you. When you said this was a matter of life and death, I was concerned for everyone’s safety.”
“I believe you’ll understand what I meant when I finish explaining why I’m here.” Mrs. Moore leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m also certain you’ll agree it’s best kept between the two of us. See, I’m prepared to make my husband’s nasty little habits public if that’s what it takes to get a fair shake in this divorce.”
Alarm bells went off at the shockingly blatant threat, especially considering Elizabeth’s reputation as a charming woman involved in a variety of charitable organizations. Nothing about this visit fit that reputation, but, much to Julie’s disapproval, Judge Moore had cut off all his wife’s credit cards and cash flow. Not only was Elizabeth Moore in a bad position, but her actions drove home that desperation was never smart nor pretty.
“Threatening a sex scandal seems a bit beneath you,” Julie warned softly, hating to see what the judge was bringing out in her, trying to bring her back to reason.
Elizabeth let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, honey, his sexual preferences might be kinky, but they are nothing compared to some of his other, shall we say, addictions.”
Her words lingered in the air for several silent moments, inviting scary prospects to run through Julie’s mind. Against her better judgment, she said, “I’m listening.”
A look of triumph settled on Elizabeth’s face. “As you well know, he’s an art collector. He doesn’t make all of his pieces public. Some of it is kept underground.“ She paused for obvious effect. “In a hidden vault.” A slow smile turned up the corners of Elizabeth’s delicate mouth. “There are people who would be very interested in some of the items my husband has in his keeping. It could cause him quite a bit of trouble.”
“What exactly are you saying?” Julie asked, afraid of what the answer was going to be. Pornography, or worse even, child p**n ography? Please say it isn’t so, she thought.
Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Tell him two can play dirty. It’s best you know nothing more because, while I don’t like you, Ms. Harrison, I don’t want you to end up dead.” With that she turned and headed toward the door.
“Elizabeth,” Julie called out, not wanting to seem too anxious as she barely kept herself in her seat.
Elizabeth turned. “Yes?”
“If it’s that dangerous for me to know whatever this secret is, aren’t you putting yourself in danger by issuing this threat?”
“My husband won’t kill me,” she said. “He won’t kill you, either. But there are others who’ll kill us all if they find out what he’s hiding. He won’t expect this from me. I’ve been weak where he’s concerned. Now that I’ve proven I’m not, he won’t risk me taking this further. He’ll give me what I want.” She gave a nod. “Goodbye, Ms. Harrison.”
Julie watched her leave, stunned by just how nasty this had gotten, then rotated her chair to take in the view from her fifteenth floor downtown Manhattan window. “What in the heck just happened?” she mumbled to the empty room. And why oh why did it have to happen now. Tomorrow, she would leave for Chicago to negotiate the divorce settlement for one of her many professional athlete clients. A few days later, her best friend, Lauren Reynolds, was getting married, and she was maid of honor. Complications were not well-timed.
Sighing, she punched the button on her intercom. “Gina,” she said calling her assistant for the past six months. “Can you please track down Judge Moore?”
“Of course,” Gina said promptly. She was always prompt. Prickly but efficient, and that was what mattered.
Julie reached for her coffee cup, and while she wasn’t usually a drinker, she wished she had some hard stuff right now. At nine o’clock in the morning she was wishing for alcohol. What did that say about her life? She didn’t know what was wrong with her lately, but she had this sense of dissatisfaction that belied her growing high profile client list that should have her reveling in success. Maybe she should consider joining the small firm Lauren had left the District Attorney’s office for. The firm she was with wasn’t a powerhouse, but it wasn’t an ant farm either. Still, she was nearly thirty now, and had to think about her future. After seven years here, she couldn’t say they’d helped her career. She’d been hired to handle corporate law, but they’d thrown her divorce cases no one had wanted and she’d made it work.
