Chapter One
She was going to have to give up her career. Sasha MacAdams, independent, hardy, confident, and fashion-conscious judge, was running scared. So what if the man who had her on his hit list was a nasty son of a bitch? So what if he’d made people disappear in the worst possible ways after mailing their body parts to family members? No matter how bad his crimes he deserved to be tried in the court of law, not treated as some lethal god who was above the law because simple humans were too afraid of his revenge. If the district attorney had the balls to try the case when no one else would, even facing removal after some palms had been greased with lots of cash to try to stop him, then she could only honor him by being the one judge that would stand by his choice. Many of her peers had steeped out, for one reason or another, publically. Some she knew was because they got paid to. Others were terrified.
She couldn’t blame them. Though it hadn’t been proven, six judges and nine lawyers who’d had some sort of connection with Diego “Ice” Rodriguez had something happen to them. From mysterious deaths, to random attacks that left them crippled, to children going missing, it all had happened. Shamefully Ice became a name synonyms with “don’t fuck with him” in the legal world. She understood the police’s frustration. It was too hard for them to get evidence, and when they did, things were tossed out of court for technicalities, moved to other locations, or repeatedly continued until the next judge conveniently dismissed the charges due to lack of evidence or ill-preparation of the prosecution. No matter what, Ice walked free.
Sasha knew his background before his case ended up on her docket. She’d made waves as a young DA before gaining her place a judge. She was good at what she did, very good. And there were whispers that she could be a shoo-in for a future appellate seat appointment if she kept going the way she was going. It was a dream of hers, the end game, if she didn’t try for supreme. Either way, that was all going to be a wash right now. She looked over at homicide detective Thomas Masterson sitting in her living room nursing a glass of scotch in his hands. The salt-and-pepper-haired detective had been lead on Ice’s case for the last fifteen years, and he wore the badges of his work in his mannerism. For a man so large, he looked utterly defeated—his shoulders slumped, his mouth in a permanent frown, and his eyes cold. He’d seen every body, mutilation, and beating that Ice had been alleged to be involved in. He knew his perp better than anyone. It was why he came to her home in the first place. He looked up at her with sad green eyes, all the light beat out of them.
“I’m sorry. You did an amazing thing taking that case and stopping the continuances. But we just can’t risk it anymore,” Thomas said with a sigh.
“Are you sure he’s coming after me?” Sasha asked, hoping against hope it wasn’t true.
“Your Honor, I have looked at this every way I could. I know Ice’s stamp, even if no one else will take me seriously.”
“More like they don’t want to acknowledge it. Everyone seems to want to turn a blind eye when it comes to Rodriguez,” Sasha said sarcastically.
“Right about that. It doesn’t matter thought,” Thomas continued. He sat his glass down after swallowing the scotch that was left in it. “You name has been coming up in the calls I’ve been monitoring.”
“Since when was there a wiretap approved?” she asked. When Thomas stared at her blankly, she just shook her head. “Forget I asked.” For the moment she was happy that Thomas had broken the law. He was saving her life right now.
“He’s mentioned you, and your address. It’s all been about how nice the neighborhood is and how he’d like to visit one day, but we both know that’s not his MO,” Thomas finished.
“Any time frame you can gather?”
“None. The sooner you leave the
She was going to have to give up her career. Sasha MacAdams, independent, hardy, confident, and fashion-conscious judge, was running scared. So what if the man who had her on his hit list was a nasty son of a bitch? So what if he’d made people disappear in the worst possible ways after mailing their body parts to family members? No matter how bad his crimes he deserved to be tried in the court of law, not treated as some lethal god who was above the law because simple humans were too afraid of his revenge. If the district attorney had the balls to try the case when no one else would, even facing removal after some palms had been greased with lots of cash to try to stop him, then she could only honor him by being the one judge that would stand by his choice. Many of her peers had steeped out, for one reason or another, publically. Some she knew was because they got paid to. Others were terrified.
She couldn’t blame them. Though it hadn’t been proven, six judges and nine lawyers who’d had some sort of connection with Diego “Ice” Rodriguez had something happen to them. From mysterious deaths, to random attacks that left them crippled, to children going missing, it all had happened. Shamefully Ice became a name synonyms with “don’t fuck with him” in the legal world. She understood the police’s frustration. It was too hard for them to get evidence, and when they did, things were tossed out of court for technicalities, moved to other locations, or repeatedly continued until the next judge conveniently dismissed the charges due to lack of evidence or ill-preparation of the prosecution. No matter what, Ice walked free.
Sasha knew his background before his case ended up on her docket. She’d made waves as a young DA before gaining her place a judge. She was good at what she did, very good. And there were whispers that she could be a shoo-in for a future appellate seat appointment if she kept going the way she was going. It was a dream of hers, the end game, if she didn’t try for supreme. Either way, that was all going to be a wash right now. She looked over at homicide detective Thomas Masterson sitting in her living room nursing a glass of scotch in his hands. The salt-and-pepper-haired detective had been lead on Ice’s case for the last fifteen years, and he wore the badges of his work in his mannerism. For a man so large, he looked utterly defeated—his shoulders slumped, his mouth in a permanent frown, and his eyes cold. He’d seen every body, mutilation, and beating that Ice had been alleged to be involved in. He knew his perp better than anyone. It was why he came to her home in the first place. He looked up at her with sad green eyes, all the light beat out of them.
“I’m sorry. You did an amazing thing taking that case and stopping the continuances. But we just can’t risk it anymore,” Thomas said with a sigh.
“Are you sure he’s coming after me?” Sasha asked, hoping against hope it wasn’t true.
“Your Honor, I have looked at this every way I could. I know Ice’s stamp, even if no one else will take me seriously.”
“More like they don’t want to acknowledge it. Everyone seems to want to turn a blind eye when it comes to Rodriguez,” Sasha said sarcastically.
“Right about that. It doesn’t matter thought,” Thomas continued. He sat his glass down after swallowing the scotch that was left in it. “You name has been coming up in the calls I’ve been monitoring.”
“Since when was there a wiretap approved?” she asked. When Thomas stared at her blankly, she just shook her head. “Forget I asked.” For the moment she was happy that Thomas had broken the law. He was saving her life right now.
“He’s mentioned you, and your address. It’s all been about how nice the neighborhood is and how he’d like to visit one day, but we both know that’s not his MO,” Thomas finished.
“Any time frame you can gather?”
“None. The sooner you leave the
Similar Books
