Judgment Day (Available in paperback & eBook-SAMPLE)

Chapter 2

Here's another chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy it and I will have another one for you soon. Thanks for your support. I appreciate it. :)

(Julia)

I had just finished breakfast, the next morning, when the doorbell rang. Knowing Andrew would see to whomever it was, I carried my plate and coffee cup to the sink. I rinsed them off and placed them in the dishwasher.

"Ms. Julia, there's a Mr. Hank Ramsey here to see you," Andrew said, coming into the kitchen.

I closed the door on the dishwasher, grabbed a dishtowel to dry my hands on, and looked at the butler. "I don't know a Hank Ramsey. Did he say what he wanted?"

"No," he answered. "I showed him to the living room."

"Thank you, Andrew," I said.

"You're welcome, Ms. Julia."

I made my way to the living room, where I found an elderly man standing in front of the fireplace, gazing at the silver framed photographs on the mantle. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Hello, Julia," he said, turning toward me with a smile. "May I call you Julia?"

"I-I suppose so," I replied, wondering why this strange man was here and how he knew my name.

"I imagine you're curious as to why I'm here and how I know who you are," he said, as though he had been reading my thoughts. "I know who you are from Michael, the man that was here last night. I'm here to check on you and see how you're doing."

I thought of Michael Riker and those piercing blue eyes of his. The man had a dangerous look about him. I imagine he frightened a lot of women, but I wasn't one of them. He didn't frighten me. "Did he send you here to check on me?"

"No." He smirked. "He doesn't know where I am. I don't share every thing with him."

"I see." I gestured at the couch. "Would you like to sit down, Mr. Ramsey?"

"I would, and please call me Hank." He took a seat and patted the cushion beside him. "Join me, please."

"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" I asked.

"Thank you, but I've had my daily dose of caffeine," he responded.

I settled beside him and crossed one leg over the other. "How do you know Mr. Riker-I mean Michael?"

"I live and work with him," Hank said, "I also consider him family."

"What line of work are you two in?" I asked, while tucking several strands of hair behind my ear.

"I'm Michael's assistant," he answered. "He refers to me as his right-hand man. I get him what he needs. I talk to clients and gather information. More or less I make sure everything runs smoothly for him."

I nodded. "And he does what?"

"Let's say that when a person wants to get rid of something they call him."

"You mean when they want to get rid of someone they call him," I said.

Hank winked at me. "I won't deny that, but neither will I confirm it. I will let you draw your own conclusion."