Spotlight & Giveaway: Under the Lawman’s Watch by Debra Holt

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Debra Holt’s new release: Under the Lawman’s Watch

He’s a Texas law man charged with protecting her. She’s a judge accustomed to controlling everything in her life and courtroom. When danger threatens, can these two opposites find a compromise?

District Court Judge Erin Finley Latham might come from wealth and power, but she’s worked her way to the top to become a no-nonsense, by-the-book judge. When two judges are murdered and she’s threatened, Erin refuses to run or hide.

US Marshall Rance Parker is dismayed by his new assignment—to sequester and protect the lofty Judge Latham instead of hunting down the threat. Still, he interrupts Judge Latham’s court, shuts down the proceedings, and hustles her into protective custody, ignoring her protests. No cell phone, no detours, no packing, no calls. No.

Hiding Erin at a family cabin on their Destiny River property, Rance is surprised that Erin enjoys board games, cooking and learning to fish. When Erin eyes the handsome, confident lawman, she feels less like a hostage and more like a woman enjoying the attention of an attractive man. Rance knows she’s out of his league, but can the magic of Destiny River convince him to try to win her heart once the danger’s passed?

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Under the Lawman’s Watch 

Chapter One
“Judge Latham is a hang ’em high, throw the book at ’em, first strike, you’re out jurist.”

“Sounds like the sort of judge we need more of around here,” Rance Parker commented, turning from the window, his fingers lightly twirling the brim of his cream Stetson. Pushing the fold of the blue denim jacket back, he slid his other hand inside the pocket of his faded jeans. He had been summoned to his captain’s office and had been on the road for the last five hours. He probably resembled more a road-weary rodeo cowboy than a United States Marshal. There hadn’t been much time to clean up and look like his usual official self.

“That scruff you’ve got going there on your face is a new look for you. Suppose they didn’t have any barbers where you were these last six weeks either. Or are you trying to get handed an undercover assignment?”

“Give a guy a break, Cap,” Rance said with a smile as he attempted the joke. He was usually clean-shaven, and his hair neatly trimmed, but he was, after all, on the last couple of days of his forced medical leave. “I’ve gotten used to not shaving on a daily basis. There’s something to be said for sitting on a porch watching the grass grow. I just might decide to retire and do it full-time.”

“You’d go crazy within a week of doing nothing, Rance. That’s not you. Besides, you’ve got an assignment and it’s good you’re all rested and got your strength back. You’ll need it.”

“That sounds ominous. Have anything to do with this Judge Latham? Since you brought the judge up at the beginning of our conversation, seems the likely place to get started.” Rance moved to the chair in front of the man’s desk, settling in, his hat resting on the knee of the crossed leg. “What’s the deal?”

“Have you ever met Judge Latham?”

“Can’t say that I have. I’ve never had a case where I had to appear in that judge’s court. Why?”

“Well, a little background. The judge’s father is the late Judge Nathaniel Latham. He passed away seated behind his bench during a trial back about five years ago. You probably heard of him… His family drilled most of the oil wells you see along Highway 84 up into the Panhandle.”

“I seem to recall a bit about that happening during a trial but paid little attention,” Rance said with a nod. “So, this present judge was one of those good ol’ boy appointments, I take it?”

“At first sight, that’s what it seemed. But this one has more than filled the father’s shoes behind the bench. This one does know the laws and makes use of them. It is by the book, their way or the highway, straight to a not so plush cell at one of our prisons. That’s not to say that the judge is not fair…more so than the famous father, and grandfather before him. And that brings us to why you have this assignment now. We’ve had credible threats received on the lives of our judges…including this present Judge Latham.”

“How credible?” The information he’d just heard had his attention. Rance sat straighter, his mind at work.

“Credible enough to place all four under surveillance. You’ll be on the detail when you report on Monday.”

“And I get this Judge Latham?”

“Yes. I chose you for this one myself.”

Rance’s gaze narrowed, his internal suspicion meter shooting upwards. “Why?”

“Judge Latham is…a special case. Let’s say the judge is very determined and believes our precautions are a waste of time and taxpayers’ money. You shouldn’t expect this judge to go quietly along with our plans. But then, I’m sure you can handle that.”

“In other words, you’re punishing me for beating you in that poker tournament last month.”

McMahon’s mouth curved upwards a bit while he tried to maintain his trademark stern composure. “I don’t punish people. The courts do that. Or in this case, the judge will.”

“That’s what I figured. Since you don’t want me working the case from the other side…tracking down this threat, I suppose I can use some more ‘down’ time and babysit a judge. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“You think that now but you…”

The door opened and Marshal Ruiz stuck his head in the opening. “We’ve got a situation. Everyone’s gathering in the conference room right now. Judge Barkley was shot coming out of his dry cleaner’s a few minutes ago. He’s on his way to All Saints… It looks bad. And Moretti called from the medical examiner’s office. Judge Vincente was poisoned.”

Both Rance and his boss cleared their seats at the same time. The captain looked at Rance. “Consider your leave ended as of right now. I need you to get your eyes and hands, if need be, on Judge Latham ASAP. All judges go on lockdown until further notice from me. Use whatever resources you think best. Just get the judge under wraps and stay there until you hear directly from me. We’ll use the secondary number I gave you once before.”

“No problem.” Rance pulled his hat down low on his forehead; he cleared the room after his captain.

No problem. Those words circulated through Rance’s mind like a ticker banner as he stood at the back of the courtroom ten minutes later. He had halted in his tracks almost as soon as he stepped through the double doors. It wasn’t the fact that the court was in session that stopped him. It was the surprise that faced him from the bench. Judge Latham was not what he expected. His brain had to take a few moments to rethink a couple of things. His gaze zeroed in on the nameplate on the front of her bench… The Honorable Judge Erin Finley Latham. He was she. Just great. That’s what he got for assuming that his boss was talking earlier about a male judge. Of course, his captain might have also volunteered that sooner rather than not at all.

He moved a couple of steps down the aisle, but he didn’t have time to speak. The judge did that.

“I see you’re wearing a federal marshal’s badge, but unless you have a desire to be held in contempt today for disturbing these proceedings, turn around and leave the way you came in. You’re disturbing this court.” A lesser man would have rethought things once he was addressed with such an imperious and frigid tone. But he had a mission and no one, not even this judge, was going to deter him. His long-legged steps led him directly down the center aisle and he didn’t stop until he stood before the raised mahogany wood-sided judge’s bench.

Rance—at six feet, three inches—was taller than most in the courtroom, but he still had to look upwards, and his gaze was met with a steady cobalt-blue stare that would have made a lesser man reconsider the value of his freedom. But he was a United States Marshal, and he had his orders.

“Your Honor, you need to recess your court and retire to your chambers. All courtrooms in this building are being cleared.” And to help punctuate his words, three deputies came through one of the side entrances and began doing just that. The black-robed figure stood from her seat and glared over the disturbance.

“This is my courtroom, and I will—” She did not get to finish that statement.

Rance had mounted the three steps beside her chair and stood at her elbow. “And you are now under the protection of the United States Marshals Service. You have time to gather what items you must have from your office and then we are leaving.” His hand motioned toward the door behind them. “We need to leave, Your Honor. You are not safe in this building.”

To his surprise, she didn’t argue but turned and led the way through the door, down a short hall and then stepped into the outer office of her suite. Her clerk was already on the phone canceling appointments and the rest of her docket. The older woman’s worried gaze followed the pair as the judge didn’t break stride until she entered her private office and crossed to stand behind her desk. Then she faced him and there was no more silence.

“You are on my turf, Marshal…” She halted and then added, “I need to see your credentials right now.”

Rance drew out the leather square with the silver badge affixed. She studied it for a moment and then returned her gaze to his. “Name?”

“Lieutenant Ranson Parker. But everyone calls me Rance. And we’re wasting time. We need to leave now.”

“This is probably another hoax or a stunt by—”

“Judge Barkley has been shot and is in surgery as we speak. It’s life-threatening. We have credible threats on all the judges in our area. Judge Vincente was found dead in his home late last night and that news is about to break. The M.E. has an initial report of poisoning. So, until we have the situation under control and the assailant, or assailants, are in custody, we must place all judges in protective custody by order of the governor and the attorney general. My orders are cut and dried. I suggest you get rid of the black robe and the attitude where you believe you have any jurisdiction over this. What I say goes from this moment forward. Let’s move, Your Honor.”

Rance would like to think it was his take-charge, no-nonsense command of the situation that had persuaded her to keep her arguments to herself, but it was probably the facts he led with about the other two jurists that had silenced her and made her ivory skin go a shade paler. Normally, he might have handled it a bit better…or not. He wasn’t about to lose a judge on his watch. And it was clear to him that this one was used to being in charge of everything around her. Thanks, Captain…I owe you one. Why did he suddenly have the feeling that it would be easier to catch the bad guy in this than to keep this particular judge under control?

The black robe came off with a couple of snaps and a tug of a zipper. It was left where it fell on the floor at her feet. Rance changed his first assessment of the woman’s height when he saw the three-inch heels she was wearing. He wasn’t a fashion expert but a model he had once dated had pointed out the importance to fashion of the red-bottomed heels he’d just caught a glimpse of. And they were not made for running, if they had to do so.

The black and white checked pencil-thin skirt was a discreet length to just below the knee, much to a sudden disappointment in his mind. The judge had an amazing pair of legs…but who needed to think about that? And the black, turtleneck sweater hugged curves that stirred other thoughts in him. He shook his mind. Job…she was his job. To keep alive. Move it.

“Grab what you can in two minutes, and we’re out of here.”

Her movements weren’t wasted. She took a tote bag…an expensive brand-named one from a deep desk drawer, placed her small laptop inside and put a handful of folders beside it. The straps slid over her shoulder.

“Now what?” She faced him with a coolness in her voice, the color returning to the high cheekbones of her face. Her hair was black and pulled back into some kind of fancy bun at the back of her head. Tiny pearl studs were in her ears and that was it. Very polished package for a judge. But then, he had no experience with a female jurist.

“We leave.” He placed his left hand on her elbow to guide her where his path was set in his mind.

“I am not a felon about to flee. I can walk without any help.”

“And since I know where we’re headed, and I need to be able to change directions without having to discuss them with you beforehand, this works best. It is something I suggest you get used to if we are in this for the long haul. I lead and you follow.” Rance guided them back to the hallway, saying nothing more to the clerk. In the hallway, a courthouse deputy waited for them, but Rance waved him away.

“What are you, the lone wolf? Wouldn’t it be better to have more help?”

“The fewer people who know our plans the better. Fewer people who could talk and help the wrong person figure out where we might be headed. It’s safer all the way around. It’s just you and me from this point forward.”

“Just great.”

He had to grudgingly admire the fact that as fast as he was walking, she wasn’t complaining and was trying to keep up, until midway down the stairs from the third floor to the second when there was a cracking sound. She would have gone face first if Rance hadn’t grabbed her arm and thrown her back against his side with an arm around her waist.

“What just—”

“You broke the heel off my new pair of shoes. I must hobble along now, and you need to slow down.”

Rance bent down and in a swift move he took care of the situation. The remaining good shoe was off her foot and in one resounding movement, the heel went flying when the shoe met the wood of the banister beside them. He bent and placed the shoe back on her foot in a swift, none-too-gentle move. He stood and resumed control of her arm. “Let’s move.”

“Are you insane? I just bought these.” They were moving faster. Rance chose to let her words become background noise. They reached the door and that is when he finally spoke to her again.

“Okay…do you really need those glasses to see or are they just to make you appear smarter? Do you usually wear them and your hair…is it always in that severe bun-thing?”

“Are you always so rude? I can see without my glasses except for reading fine print, if you must know. And what’s wrong with my hair?”

“Good. Take the glasses off. Undo your hair before we get to the outside door. We’re going to blend in with the crowd as best as we can until we make it around to the back exit. Then we’ll move even faster to my vehicle. If someone is waiting for you, they’ll be zoning in for you as you normally look. And here…” He paused to shed his jacket and pushed it into her hands. “Put this on. Most people will glance at you from the waist up, so maybe a girl with long hair, no glasses, and wearing a jean jacket will be passed over in a quick sliding survey of a crowd.”

“Are the words please and thank you in your tough-guy vocabulary? If not, I suggest you learn them.” She might be schooling him about his manners, but she did as he ordered. The black-framed glasses went into the tote bag. The jacket went on over the expensive blouse and then the hair was let loose and fell to her shoulders and beyond. Rance was taken aback for a moment with the transformation. The cold ‘ice maiden,’ as he had come to reference her in his mind, had thawed in front of his eyes. At least in appearance, if not demeanor.

“Well, Marshal Parker…I thought we were in a hurry? Is there something else I need to take off?”

None of the responses that came across his brain would be appropriate in the moment. And as much as he might want to change his assignment given the unexpected jolt of thought, he had no option to do so. This assignment just got a whole lot trickier. He took hold of her elbow once more. “No comment. Let’s move.”

Excerpt. ©Debra Holt. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: Winner will receieve one ebook copy of UNDER THE LAWMAN’S WATCH by Debra Holt plus one additional ebook of the winner’s choice from Tule Publishing.

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Meet the Author:

Born and raised in the Lone Star state of Texas, Debra grew up among horses, cowboys, wide open spaces, and real Texas Rangers. Pride in her state and ancestry knows no bounds and it is these heroes and heroines she loves to write about the most. She also draws upon a variety of life experiences including working with abused children, caring for baby animals at a major zoo, and planning high-end weddings (ah, romance!).

Debra’s real pride and joys, however, are her son, an aspiring film actor, and a daughter with aspirations to join the Federal Bureau of Investigation. (more story ideas!) When she isn’t busy writing about tall Texans and feisty heroines, she can be found cheering on her Texas Tech Red Raiders, or heading off on another cruise adventure. She read her first romance…Janet Dailey’s Fiesta San Antonio, over thirty years ago and became hooked on the genre. Writing contemporary western romances, is both her passion and dream come true, and she hopes her books will bring smiles…and sighs…to all who believe in happily-ever-after’s.

https://tulepublishing.com/books/under-the-lawmans-watch/