Read Fatal Judgment for Free Online Page A

her shoulders ease a hair? Or was it his imagination? Jake wasn’t certain as he set the food back on the adjustable bedside table, propped a hip on the mattress, and opened the plastic container that held the sandwich.
    She continued to sip her milk in silence, focusing on the closed blinds as he devoured the sandwich and the pudding. Still hungry, he considered the Jell-O. Passed.
    He chose a soda instead, the fizz echoing in the quiet room as he pulled back the tab. After taking a long swallow, he regarded Liz.
    As if sensing his perusal, she looked toward him. “How was it?”
    “Hospital food.” He shrugged. “But when you’re hungry, you can’t be too picky.”
    “Not hungry enough for the Jell-O, I see.”
    He grimaced at the clear green substance in the plastic dish. “I’ve never been able to stomach food that jiggles.”
    The ghost of a smile whispered at her lips. “I’m with you. My mom always forced me to eat Jell-O when I was sick, which did nothing to endear it to me. I wouldn’t even eat the cherry Jell-O salad with whipped cream and blueberries she always made on Fourth of July, despite the rave reviews it got.”
    He found himself smiling in response. “My mom’s cure-all for any kind of sickness was much more palatable. Homemade chicken soup. Sometimes my brother and sister and I would fake being sick just so she’d make it.”
    “Pretty devious.”
    “Hey, it worked. For a while. Now she makes it whenever we come to visit.”
    “Where’s home, Jake?” She took another sip of milk, never breaking eye contact.
    “Here. But Mom moved to Chicago a few years ago to live with her sister. They were raised there, and they decided to combine households after they both became widows. Now that I’m based in St. Louis, I should be able to see her more often.”
    “That will be nice . . . for both of you.”
    “How about you? Does your mom still make that Jell-O salad?”
    As she ran a finger around the rim of her cup, every vestige of her fleeting smile vanished. “She died when I was twelve.”
    He should have remembered that. At Doug’s wedding ten years ago, he’d noted the absence of the mother of the bride and asked his friend about it.
    “I knew that. Doug mentioned it once. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay. She’s been gone a long time. But you know what? I still miss her. Especially on days like this.” Her words came out scratchy, and she took another sip of milk. “Dad did his best to fill in the gap for Stephanie and me, though. Hard as he worked in his law practice, he was always there for us.” She fingered a loose thread on the oversized scrub top. “He died of a heart attack four years ago. Way too young. He was only fifty-nine.”
    Meaning she had no one except Stephanie.
    Jake couldn’t imagine being that alone. He might not have seen his family as much as he’d have liked in the past few years, but he knew they were there if he needed them. Except Dad.
    “My father died too young too,” he offered. “Sixty-one. He got up one morning five years ago, put on his uniform, and keeled over from a stroke on his way to work. I’ll never forget the shock of that phone call.” His own voice hoarsened, and he cleared his throat.
    “What sort of uniform?”
    “Police. He never wanted to be more than a street cop. But he made a difference. People on his beat knew if they had a problem, Joe Taylor would see that justice was served. Everyone loved and respected him. I never met a man with more strength of conviction and integrity.”
    Liz’s expression softened. “I have a feeling our dads might have been cut from the same cloth.”
    “Could be.” Jake tipped his head back and drained his soda can. He had no idea how the conversation had edged into such personal territory. While he wasn’t averse to sharing information about his upbringing and his family with friends, Liz didn’t fall into that camp. Not even close.
    But he had to admit she was easy to talk to. Must