Page 4 of Justice for the SEAL
She pushed into his room, struck as she always was by the complete lack of color in the space. There was beige in a multitude of hues, even a few specs of white, whereas in her memories, her father had always been surrounded bycolor.
It was a nice place. The best facility money could buy; her bank account could testify to that. Yet it was apropos that his room was a small square of space cut off from the rest of the world and operating completely independentlyfromit.
She took in his sleeping form, so much smaller than it used to be. She touched his white hair and his eyes opened, confusion registering in theirdepths.
Her face fell. That look never got easiertotake.
She moved for the television and turned it on. “Time for the news. You like this.” They were already doing theweather.
“We missed the beginning,” hegrumbled.
“You were sleeping.”And Iwaslate.
“I wasawake.”
She pulled out her computer, half-listening to the television. More of the same. Hotter than hell with no relief in sight. Atlanta was always hot in summer, but this wasn’t just hot, this was roasting—like chickens-in-a-grocery-store kind of roasting—and it made hergrumpy.
Her inbox had over a hundred unread messages. She sighed heavily while the news droned on in thebackground.
“It appears we made a mistake when we reported the car fire today in downtown Atlanta. Here again is the image we brought you at the top of the hour, an explosion we reported as having killed state justice AnthonyRoyce.”
Gemma’s head shot up. Video of firefighters putting out a car fire played on the screen. Everything in the room grew louder, as if her panic had amplified herhearing.
Royce who’d once said helovedher.
Royce who’d lied and broken herheart.
Royce who she stared down whenever their professional paths crossed, which was far toooften.
The anchor cleared his throat.“It appears that was a mistake. The occupant of the vehicle was in fact Barbara Royce, Anthony’s wife. She was pronounced dead at Grady MemorialHospital.”
“Oh God, no,” she whispered, holding her hand to her chest. The familiar guilt settled in her stomach like a stone. She’d once been responsible for hurting Royce’s wife. Embarrassing her. Humiliating her. And now shewasgone.
Gemma imagined Barbara in that car, surrounded by flames. The terror she must have experienced. And the girls! They must bedevastated.
“But in a bizarre twist, the FBI reports Justice Royce was abducted from the sidewalk near the explosion by two men as he approached the burning vehicle. The two events are believed to berelated.”
Gemma’s mouthdroppedopen.
“Wow,”said the femalenewscaster.
“Wow indeed, Janet. Authorities are asking anyone with information about the crime to callCrimestoppers.”
Royce had enemies, herself included. But what kind of motive could someone have forkidnapping?
Maybe he wasdead,too.
She shut her laptop, her hands shaking. She needed to get out of here, get back to the office and see what people were saying. Maybe they knew something more than was being reported on the news. “I havetogo.”
“It was nice to meet you,” said herfather.
“You too, Dad.” She stood and walked briskly toward the door, calling over her shoulder, “See youtomorrow.”
3
Gemma ploppedonto the leather couch in her chambers feeling like a wet towel that had been wrung out. The car bombing and Royce’s kidnapping had the courthouse turned on it’s head even though Royce worked in a different building—with heightened security and the gossip mill buzzing to a nearlyaudiblehum.
She hadn’t learned anything new about the incident, and she certainly hadn’t expected the majority of the gossip to be about her. It was like the past eight years hadn’t happened, and she was right back there, Anthony Royce’s mistress who’d slept her way tothetop.
