Free Beyond A Reasonable Doubt by Linda S Prather

and he was my responsibility. I tried to protect him, but he was shot. Airport security shot the man.
    “Then we were taken to this room where these officers—I guess they were federal officers—questioned us both. They said they were taking Jordan back to prison. When we walked out of the room and headed for their car, Jordan did something to my neck. The next thing I knew, I was in a van with a black hood over my face.”
    “Let me see your neck?”
    Jenna pulled aside her blouse, exposing the bruise along her shoulder blade.
    “All right, Miss James.” He touched her swollen lip. “And did my son do this?”
    Jenna recoiled from his touch. “No. A man named Drago did. I think he would have killed me if Jordan hadn’t stopped him.”
    Jenna waited for additional questions, but the judge was suspiciously quiet. She took some satisfaction from the slight paling of his face at the mention of Drago’s name. They traveled in silence for over an hour before her street came into view, the two-story brick a pleasant sight. The limo stopped in front. “Thank you for bringing me home, Judge Elkins. I’ll clean up and go see Michael.”
    “Who helped you get my son out of prison?”
    “What?”
    The judge reached out and grabbed her right wrist again. “Who helped you get my son out of prison?”
    Jenna knew, with the type of power the judge wielded, he’d find out the truth anyway. She needed to get away from him before he heard the news about Atlanta.
    “Clifford Beaumont.”
    “My wife unfortunately fell down the stairs at home this morning, Miss James. She died instantly. The shock of her death, along with your kidnapping, resulted in Michael having a heart attack. Do you understand, Miss James?”
    “I understand.”
    He grabbed her hand again, and Jenna screamed as he bent her little finger until it popped.
    “When you go to the hospital to see Michael, you can get that fixed. I felt you needed a few small reminders of what happens to the people who cross me.”
    Jenna stood on the sidewalk, tears streaming down her face as she watched the limo pulled away. Biting her lip, she turned and walked the few short steps to her front door, only to remember she didn’t have a key. The day’s events washed over her, and she sat down on the steps—shoulders hunched, face buried in her hands—and sobbed.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    “We have a report of a possible burglary in progress at Forty-five Monsanto. Any cars in the area, please respond.”
    Jake grabbed the mike. “We’re about a mile from there. We’ll check it out.” Replacing the mike, he took a huge bite of his half-cold hamburger and washed it down with coffee. “Isn’t that your girlfriend’s house?” He grinned maliciously. “Oh, wait a minute, I forgot—she’s got a boyfriend.”
    “Shut up, Sherlock.”
    Jake laughed. “Hell, Harry, it’s been five years. Don’t you think it’s time you moved on? I could ask Cara to set you up with one of her friends. There’s a few of them. If I wasn’t already taken, well, I’d be on the prowl.”
    Harry shot him a glance as they turned the corner onto Monsanto. “If Cara didn’t keep a noose around your neck, you’d be on the prowl anyway.”
    Jake turned to stare out the window. “Never going to happen. Cara’s everything I ever wanted or needed.”
    Harry drove slowly by the two-story ranch. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find that some day.”
    Jake caught a glimpse of movement in the bushes behind the house. “Pull over, Harry. I think I saw something.”
    Harry pulled the cruiser to the side of the road and parked. “Where?”
    “In the back.” Jake opened his door and closed it softly, drawing his gun. “You take the left; I’ll take the right.”
    Jake heard glass breaking as he approached the back hedge. The perp wasn’t trying to be quiet, which meant one of two things: he was either an amateur and stupid or armed and dangerous. He finished rounding the corner at a sprint, gun held