I just wanted to take a moment and thank you for stopping by. Read a little, write a little, enjoy yourself!
Rachel
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Rachel Whitney
My work has appeared in The Denver Post, Community Crossroads, Direcciones, Write On! and The Mean Moose. I have attended the Flathead River Writers’ Conference for the past two years, the Emerald City Writers’ Conference recently and am a member of Romance Writers of America. I am President of Montana Romance Writers. I hold a bachelors degree in English and am currently working on a Masters in English.
My Books
- Caught in the Act: The Blood
- Caught in the Act: The Spell
- Happily Ever After
- Judge Thyself First
- Montana's Millionaire Man
- What the Heart Wants
About Me
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- Rachel Whitney
- Missoula, Montana, United States
- My life is one of varied paths. I’ve raced around barrels in a rodeo arena, counted people’s money at a bank, sat cold, barefooted and scared in a police station in the middle of the night, watched my mom die in a lonely hospital bed. I’ve left an old life, dead broke in search of a new future. I’ve had great joys, holding my daughters on the day they were born. I’ve had great sorrows, being betrayed by those closest to me. Through it all, the laughter, the adventure, the sadness, one thing has remained constant, my love of the written word. As I walked each avenue, from scribbling in notebooks before I could even write to teaching the students in my class the magic and power of words, writing has been my center.
My Shelfari Bookshelf
JUDGE THYSELF FIRST - Chapter 1
A sweet whiff of carrot cake and the final strain of the happy birthday lyrics met Justin’s senses as he walked into the brightly lit office.
“Well, that’s not something we’d hear down at Headquarters,” he muttered under his breath as the glass door swished closed behind him.
Being in a profession clouded with intrigue and stereotypes himself, he didn’t really know what to expect of a private investigator’s office in downtown Portland. He wasn’t about to think he’d been expecting a dim, smoke-filled room smelling of old liquor and yesterday’s newspapers. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn. This was just a rent-a-cop shop anyway. As he settled down in one of the thickly padded chairs, he couldn’t believe he’d actually come. It was like lowering himself. His surveyor eyes glared at the tasteful waterfront pictures gracing the walls and the interesting choice of reading material laid out on the end table next to his seat.
“God, what a sissy place.” He picked up a photography magazine. “For the wife cheating crowd no doubt.”
Resigning himself to being here, he flipped to an article and used his pretended engrossment in it as a cover for his thoughts. It had taken him months to get here. He’d had to endure the pain of burying his mother. He’d had to nod his head as the doctors explained that she really was healthy, but that she’d lost the will to live. Dying of a broken heart wasn’t too hard to believe, Justin had thought as he’d stood at the edge of his mother’s freshly covered grave and his father’s aged one.
He’d made arrangements for his father’s long time butler to stay on at the ranch-style house in Austin that was now his. And as he hung up the phone in his Dallas apartment, he figured he was through with details for a while. But, that’s when the message arrived from his father’s lawyer. Following the directions in the message took him to the journal and the folder. They or rather the contents were what brought him to Sarah Johnson’s door.
In his mind he could see her picture in the folder he’d left in his safe. She looked to be about sixteen when the picture was taken. Her hair was a delicate blond, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes looked blue or gray—he couldn’t be sure which. She looked young and innocent, yet so did her mother. But, who, better than him knew that looks could be deceiving.
In a few more minutes he would see the daughter of the woman who was responsible for his father’s death. All he had to do was wait. And then he’d set his plan into motion.
“Mr. Breslow?”
“Yes,” Justin looked up into the face of the voice. The woman had brown almost frizzy hair and green eyes. His mind registered his surprise, but his face shown with pleasant expectation.
“SJ will be with you in a moment,” Annie said.
“Thank you.”
Annie nodded.
“Have you checked him out yet?” Annie asked as she walked into Sarah’s office.
Sarah cleared her throat. “Yes. But, I’ve busy wrapping up the Hansen case. So I didn’t have time to study it. And I didn’t know for sure if he was going to pursue this any further.” And I’m not sure if I’m going to let him poke into my life. “If you want to read through the file, here you go.” Sarah handed Annie the papers clipped neatly in a folder labeled Justin T. Breslow.
Sarah straightened her navy linen pantsuit and wished fleetingly that it was really a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She’d like to think that she held a pair of sandals in her hand and not her notebook and pen, and that she was about to take a nice stroll on the beach and not the winding professional walk she had to make to the waiting room. But, this is what I love, Sarah thought. Maybe I’ll take the vacation I keep promising myself, next year. She put a smile on her face and opened her door.
The smile was what Justin saw first. Sure he noticed her walk. It was more of an easy jaunt and not just the simple one foot in front of the other. He cringed at how carefree she seemed. Well, not for long she wouldn’t be, he vowed. He also noticed her fancy outfit and quickly calculated the money it would have cost. Looks like she’s benefiting from rich wives looking for their cheating husbands, he thought as his eyes were drawn back to her smile, pretty white teeth wrapped gently in full, lightly tinted lips. Damn woman, he thought in a blink. It’s been months since I’ve smiled just for the hell of it.
As she got closer, he stood to wait with a smile of his own. He schooled his features and made sure the smile reached his eyes. Briefly, he wondered if the long blond hair framing her face was from a bottle or if it was naturally that brilliant and if her eyes were blue or gray.
“Mr. Breslow, welcome to SJ Investigation. I’m Sarah Johnson.” She held out her hand and deepened her smile. In the time it took her to take her next breath, her eyes scanned, cataloged and recorded his appearance and her impressions. He stood calmly, waiting. His white button up shirt and blue jeans looked well worn as did his black leather jacket. Most people looked at their clothing as an accessory for their personality. But, Sarah had the impression that this man needed no accessory. His clothes were an afterthought. A, worn very well, afterthought.
“Justin Breslow.” He nodded as his hand touched hers and held. Her eyes are—gray, was the last thought he had before he sunk into them.
Sarah’s smile faded as she noted the warmth in their touch travel up her arm and flutter around her insides. She grabbed her hand back fully intending to ignore the sensation.
“Mr. Breslow, it’s nice to meet you in person. What can I do for you, today?”
Damn woman. “Sorry. I’m just not used to be being surprised is all.”
“How is it that you’re surprised?”
“Your eyes are gray.”
“Yes?”
“I just thought they’d be blue. You know blond hair, blue—never mind.” Justin shook his head. I sound like an idiot. Get it together. “I’m sure you’re really busy and didn’t plan on spending your afternoon talking to a reporter from Dallas about the color of your eyes.”
“You’re from Texas?”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t mention that when we talked on the phone.” No wonder, the conversation lasted about a second, Justin thought. “I’ve done some freelance work, but now I work for the Dallas Herald.”
“I hear the accent.” Now it was her turn to be surprised. She never missed things like that. She knew it was the similarity between Justin and her mom that had thrown her. She almost mentioned that her mom had been a reporter from Texas. “I’ve done some thinking about what you asked me, and I decided to at least listen to what you have to say.”
After they were seated in Sarah’s office and after he was finished mentally chewing himself out, Justin began his prepared speech. “I’ve been a huge fan of your mother’s for years. Who hasn’t? She’s a hero in the journalism world.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’ve begged my editor for this assignment since I knew he wanted to run the series.”
“Why don’t you describe what the series is exactly.” Sarah’s eyes wandered over the pictures on her desk. They settled on the last picture she and her mom had taken together. It was at a cross-country meet in high school. They stood side-by-side, arms wrapped around each other. She was dressed in her running shorts and top while her mom was clothed in a classy suit. Sarah could still feel the pride and warmth from being clutched in her arms.
Justin wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but he knew he didn’t like the sad look on her face. And he sure to hell didn’t like the need he felt to reach out and grab a hold of her hand.
“It’s a series of articles on your mother’s life and her final assignment.” He noted the confusion and hesitancy that flitted across Sarah’s face. He had to pull this off or his plan was ruined. “Sarah, listen. Your mother was wonderful.”
“I know she was.”
“She won the Pulitzer Prize.”
“But, that’s not why she wrote.” Sarah crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Hmmm, this should be interesting, she thought. Let’s see how much this guy can come up with. Let’s see if he’s found the truth.
Damn! What else, Justin wracked his brain for remnants of what he’d planned to say. “She died when she was on assignment in Alabama and deserves to be honored, remembered.”
Sarah’s glance flitted back to the picture of her mother and nodded.
“I would like to do that.”
“Why?”
“Because she was—“
“No, I mean why you?” Sarah asked.
“Like my credentials?”
Sarah shrugged.
“Well, I have a Masters in Journalism from—“
“No, you know what. I don’t care about that.” Sarah leaned forward. “I want to know why you want to do it.”
Justin took a deep breath. Here it goes. “We, meaning you and me, have sort of a personal connection. My father and your mother grew up together in Texas Hill. It’s probably through him that I learned to admire your mother so much.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Who’s your father?”
“He was Thomas J. Breslow, but everyone knew him by Tom.”
“Is it the same Tom Breslow who was appointed Supreme Court Justice?”
“Yes.” Justin bent his head. The anger was so fierce. He needed a chance to get it under control. “He died when I was young.” Your mother killed him.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s just that my mother recently passed away and it’s—it’s hard to relive the whole thing.” Justin looked up. He saw true concern and sadness in her eyes. Damn woman was making him sound like a sap.
“Would I be able to read and approve the articles before they go to press?”
Ah, hell. I knew she’d ask that, Justin cringed. He knew the cover was a good idea. But, he didn’t know the first damn thing about writing—anything. He’d have to figure something out. “Yes.”
“Good. When do you want to start?” Sarah asked.
“As soon as possible. I want to focus on her life for the first few articles and then delve into her final assignment. I would really like your help with all of it.”
“I can definitely help with her life. But, we’ll have to talk to my Dad about her last assignment. He knows about the details and will be able to help more than I could.”
“Can I get your permission to call him?”
“Actually, I’m leaving this afternoon to spend the weekend with him. It’s my birthday.” Sarah motioned to the streamers and banners sporting the message “Happy Birthday SJ”.
“Sort of figured that.”
“He and I always spend some time together for it.” Sarah looked at the man before her. He was a little taller than her. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He looked average, but something in his eyes held her. She felt like she could trust him. And if he went with her, she’d be able to watch him and make sure he didn’t upset her dad. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes.” Justin nodded and smiled. Her life will never be the same. I’ll make sure of that.
“If you give me a number where you can be reached, I’ll call before I leave.”
“Great.” Justin shook her hand. He was careful not to look directly into her eyes this time. But, her sexy, intoxicating scent delivered a quick gut punch. Damn woman!
* * *
Sarah looked out the window and watched Justin get into a cab. Her instinct told her he was trustworthy, but there was something. The feeling she felt, when she just touched his hand, told her she should walk the other way. It had been so long since she felt anything for anyone, that the attraction was probably imagined.
“SJ,” Annie called.
“Yeah, Annie.” Sarah turned to her researcher and friend.
“I read through that info on Justin.”
“So you know, huh?”
“I talked to his editor, Patrick Walker at the Dallas Herald. He said Mr. Breslow’s assignment is to write a series of articles on Helen Prescott, your mother.”
My mother, Sarah thought, if only it were that simple. “I know.” Sarah rubbed her hands over her face. Her mind traveled back to her sophomore year of high school. Her memories raced through track meets, award ceremonies and old boyfriends. But, the moment she remembered the most was the day she came home from school and met her father in the yard. Seeing his anguished face, she stumbled into his arms. As the mist of the evening settled around them, he told her what had happened. While his body shook with sobs, he told her there had been a fire at the prison where her mother was. “She’s dead, honey. She’s dead.”
Sarah wiped away the silent tear. “Happy Birthday, SJ,” she mumbled.
* * *
As soon as the door of the cab closed, Justin was on the phone with Pat Walker, his partner at the FBI headquarters in Dallas.
“Well, that’s not something we’d hear down at Headquarters,” he muttered under his breath as the glass door swished closed behind him.
Being in a profession clouded with intrigue and stereotypes himself, he didn’t really know what to expect of a private investigator’s office in downtown Portland. He wasn’t about to think he’d been expecting a dim, smoke-filled room smelling of old liquor and yesterday’s newspapers. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn. This was just a rent-a-cop shop anyway. As he settled down in one of the thickly padded chairs, he couldn’t believe he’d actually come. It was like lowering himself. His surveyor eyes glared at the tasteful waterfront pictures gracing the walls and the interesting choice of reading material laid out on the end table next to his seat.
“God, what a sissy place.” He picked up a photography magazine. “For the wife cheating crowd no doubt.”
Resigning himself to being here, he flipped to an article and used his pretended engrossment in it as a cover for his thoughts. It had taken him months to get here. He’d had to endure the pain of burying his mother. He’d had to nod his head as the doctors explained that she really was healthy, but that she’d lost the will to live. Dying of a broken heart wasn’t too hard to believe, Justin had thought as he’d stood at the edge of his mother’s freshly covered grave and his father’s aged one.
He’d made arrangements for his father’s long time butler to stay on at the ranch-style house in Austin that was now his. And as he hung up the phone in his Dallas apartment, he figured he was through with details for a while. But, that’s when the message arrived from his father’s lawyer. Following the directions in the message took him to the journal and the folder. They or rather the contents were what brought him to Sarah Johnson’s door.
In his mind he could see her picture in the folder he’d left in his safe. She looked to be about sixteen when the picture was taken. Her hair was a delicate blond, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes looked blue or gray—he couldn’t be sure which. She looked young and innocent, yet so did her mother. But, who, better than him knew that looks could be deceiving.
In a few more minutes he would see the daughter of the woman who was responsible for his father’s death. All he had to do was wait. And then he’d set his plan into motion.
“Mr. Breslow?”
“Yes,” Justin looked up into the face of the voice. The woman had brown almost frizzy hair and green eyes. His mind registered his surprise, but his face shown with pleasant expectation.
“SJ will be with you in a moment,” Annie said.
“Thank you.”
Annie nodded.
“Have you checked him out yet?” Annie asked as she walked into Sarah’s office.
Sarah cleared her throat. “Yes. But, I’ve busy wrapping up the Hansen case. So I didn’t have time to study it. And I didn’t know for sure if he was going to pursue this any further.” And I’m not sure if I’m going to let him poke into my life. “If you want to read through the file, here you go.” Sarah handed Annie the papers clipped neatly in a folder labeled Justin T. Breslow.
Sarah straightened her navy linen pantsuit and wished fleetingly that it was really a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She’d like to think that she held a pair of sandals in her hand and not her notebook and pen, and that she was about to take a nice stroll on the beach and not the winding professional walk she had to make to the waiting room. But, this is what I love, Sarah thought. Maybe I’ll take the vacation I keep promising myself, next year. She put a smile on her face and opened her door.
The smile was what Justin saw first. Sure he noticed her walk. It was more of an easy jaunt and not just the simple one foot in front of the other. He cringed at how carefree she seemed. Well, not for long she wouldn’t be, he vowed. He also noticed her fancy outfit and quickly calculated the money it would have cost. Looks like she’s benefiting from rich wives looking for their cheating husbands, he thought as his eyes were drawn back to her smile, pretty white teeth wrapped gently in full, lightly tinted lips. Damn woman, he thought in a blink. It’s been months since I’ve smiled just for the hell of it.
As she got closer, he stood to wait with a smile of his own. He schooled his features and made sure the smile reached his eyes. Briefly, he wondered if the long blond hair framing her face was from a bottle or if it was naturally that brilliant and if her eyes were blue or gray.
“Mr. Breslow, welcome to SJ Investigation. I’m Sarah Johnson.” She held out her hand and deepened her smile. In the time it took her to take her next breath, her eyes scanned, cataloged and recorded his appearance and her impressions. He stood calmly, waiting. His white button up shirt and blue jeans looked well worn as did his black leather jacket. Most people looked at their clothing as an accessory for their personality. But, Sarah had the impression that this man needed no accessory. His clothes were an afterthought. A, worn very well, afterthought.
“Justin Breslow.” He nodded as his hand touched hers and held. Her eyes are—gray, was the last thought he had before he sunk into them.
Sarah’s smile faded as she noted the warmth in their touch travel up her arm and flutter around her insides. She grabbed her hand back fully intending to ignore the sensation.
“Mr. Breslow, it’s nice to meet you in person. What can I do for you, today?”
Damn woman. “Sorry. I’m just not used to be being surprised is all.”
“How is it that you’re surprised?”
“Your eyes are gray.”
“Yes?”
“I just thought they’d be blue. You know blond hair, blue—never mind.” Justin shook his head. I sound like an idiot. Get it together. “I’m sure you’re really busy and didn’t plan on spending your afternoon talking to a reporter from Dallas about the color of your eyes.”
“You’re from Texas?”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t mention that when we talked on the phone.” No wonder, the conversation lasted about a second, Justin thought. “I’ve done some freelance work, but now I work for the Dallas Herald.”
“I hear the accent.” Now it was her turn to be surprised. She never missed things like that. She knew it was the similarity between Justin and her mom that had thrown her. She almost mentioned that her mom had been a reporter from Texas. “I’ve done some thinking about what you asked me, and I decided to at least listen to what you have to say.”
After they were seated in Sarah’s office and after he was finished mentally chewing himself out, Justin began his prepared speech. “I’ve been a huge fan of your mother’s for years. Who hasn’t? She’s a hero in the journalism world.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’ve begged my editor for this assignment since I knew he wanted to run the series.”
“Why don’t you describe what the series is exactly.” Sarah’s eyes wandered over the pictures on her desk. They settled on the last picture she and her mom had taken together. It was at a cross-country meet in high school. They stood side-by-side, arms wrapped around each other. She was dressed in her running shorts and top while her mom was clothed in a classy suit. Sarah could still feel the pride and warmth from being clutched in her arms.
Justin wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but he knew he didn’t like the sad look on her face. And he sure to hell didn’t like the need he felt to reach out and grab a hold of her hand.
“It’s a series of articles on your mother’s life and her final assignment.” He noted the confusion and hesitancy that flitted across Sarah’s face. He had to pull this off or his plan was ruined. “Sarah, listen. Your mother was wonderful.”
“I know she was.”
“She won the Pulitzer Prize.”
“But, that’s not why she wrote.” Sarah crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Hmmm, this should be interesting, she thought. Let’s see how much this guy can come up with. Let’s see if he’s found the truth.
Damn! What else, Justin wracked his brain for remnants of what he’d planned to say. “She died when she was on assignment in Alabama and deserves to be honored, remembered.”
Sarah’s glance flitted back to the picture of her mother and nodded.
“I would like to do that.”
“Why?”
“Because she was—“
“No, I mean why you?” Sarah asked.
“Like my credentials?”
Sarah shrugged.
“Well, I have a Masters in Journalism from—“
“No, you know what. I don’t care about that.” Sarah leaned forward. “I want to know why you want to do it.”
Justin took a deep breath. Here it goes. “We, meaning you and me, have sort of a personal connection. My father and your mother grew up together in Texas Hill. It’s probably through him that I learned to admire your mother so much.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Who’s your father?”
“He was Thomas J. Breslow, but everyone knew him by Tom.”
“Is it the same Tom Breslow who was appointed Supreme Court Justice?”
“Yes.” Justin bent his head. The anger was so fierce. He needed a chance to get it under control. “He died when I was young.” Your mother killed him.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s just that my mother recently passed away and it’s—it’s hard to relive the whole thing.” Justin looked up. He saw true concern and sadness in her eyes. Damn woman was making him sound like a sap.
“Would I be able to read and approve the articles before they go to press?”
Ah, hell. I knew she’d ask that, Justin cringed. He knew the cover was a good idea. But, he didn’t know the first damn thing about writing—anything. He’d have to figure something out. “Yes.”
“Good. When do you want to start?” Sarah asked.
“As soon as possible. I want to focus on her life for the first few articles and then delve into her final assignment. I would really like your help with all of it.”
“I can definitely help with her life. But, we’ll have to talk to my Dad about her last assignment. He knows about the details and will be able to help more than I could.”
“Can I get your permission to call him?”
“Actually, I’m leaving this afternoon to spend the weekend with him. It’s my birthday.” Sarah motioned to the streamers and banners sporting the message “Happy Birthday SJ”.
“Sort of figured that.”
“He and I always spend some time together for it.” Sarah looked at the man before her. He was a little taller than her. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He looked average, but something in his eyes held her. She felt like she could trust him. And if he went with her, she’d be able to watch him and make sure he didn’t upset her dad. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes.” Justin nodded and smiled. Her life will never be the same. I’ll make sure of that.
“If you give me a number where you can be reached, I’ll call before I leave.”
“Great.” Justin shook her hand. He was careful not to look directly into her eyes this time. But, her sexy, intoxicating scent delivered a quick gut punch. Damn woman!
* * *
Sarah looked out the window and watched Justin get into a cab. Her instinct told her he was trustworthy, but there was something. The feeling she felt, when she just touched his hand, told her she should walk the other way. It had been so long since she felt anything for anyone, that the attraction was probably imagined.
“SJ,” Annie called.
“Yeah, Annie.” Sarah turned to her researcher and friend.
“I read through that info on Justin.”
“So you know, huh?”
“I talked to his editor, Patrick Walker at the Dallas Herald. He said Mr. Breslow’s assignment is to write a series of articles on Helen Prescott, your mother.”
My mother, Sarah thought, if only it were that simple. “I know.” Sarah rubbed her hands over her face. Her mind traveled back to her sophomore year of high school. Her memories raced through track meets, award ceremonies and old boyfriends. But, the moment she remembered the most was the day she came home from school and met her father in the yard. Seeing his anguished face, she stumbled into his arms. As the mist of the evening settled around them, he told her what had happened. While his body shook with sobs, he told her there had been a fire at the prison where her mother was. “She’s dead, honey. She’s dead.”
Sarah wiped away the silent tear. “Happy Birthday, SJ,” she mumbled.
* * *
As soon as the door of the cab closed, Justin was on the phone with Pat Walker, his partner at the FBI headquarters in Dallas.