Destined Chaos

by Kate Allenton

  DESTINED CHAOS

  The Other Bennetts Book 5

  KATE ALLENTON

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  Other Books By Kate Allenton

  Copyright © 2020 Kate Allenton

  All rights reserved.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorize electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Coastal Escape Publishing

  Discover other titles by Kate Allenton

  At

  http://www.kateallenton.com

  1

  Libby Slaughter

  “Libby, tell me you at least had the decency to explain?” Champ Beaumont breathlessly asked as he tried to keep up with me.

  We’d jogged seven miles. One more and he’d give out and call it a productive morning.

  “Peter was getting clingy, and I warned him in the beginning not to get attached.” There was a reason I didn’t want the emotional entanglements. There was a reason for everything I did, but most people that didn’t know my secrets wouldn’t believe me if I ever tried to explain.

  “Right, because you don’t do serious. You’ve got another five years before you have to worry about keeling over and dropping dead. How do you even know it’s going to happen to you?” he asked, touching my sweaty arm and pulling me to a full stop.

  He squatted and rubbed his calf, massaging the painful-looking tight knot while I jogged in place.

  “It’s inevitable.”

  “Then why all of this running? Are you trying to outrun fate, because, if it were me and I was dying in five years, I’d be eating all the fried delicious goodness and eating my weight in everything chocolate while chasing it with alcohol, all the while gambling my fortune away. Or better yet, I’d go out with a big bang and throw one massive elaborate party that will be talked about for years to come.”

  “That’s the difference between us. I’m not going down without a hard fight, and why would I want to make any lasting relationships that could potentially leave someone hurt when I’m going to die? It’s just plain cruel.”

  He righted his stance and swiped at the pouring sweat drenching his brow. “I thought cruel was your middle name.”

  She grinned. “Only in the pit.”

  The pit was the one place I could let go of my personal frustrations. The main area where the self-defense classes were taught and where I had a multitude of punching bags and mannequin-sized dummies to beat up.

  “I think this is as far as I go,” he said, resting his hands on his hips.

  “Wimp. I’m only going one more mile.”

  “I’m not a wimp. I’m not made for this kind of torture, but now you…” He gestured to my body. “You normally go ten, so who’s slacking today? Hmm?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I had a bad dream and then a visitor.”

  The smile faded off his face as quickly as it had arrived. “Anything I need to know?”

  There was a lot he needed to know, but it was too late to undo the damage that had been done. “I’m not going to ruin your productive morning. You’ll have to deal with it soon enough. I’ll see you in the office.”

  He turned and waved his hand in departure as he moved to the street to hail a cab.

  He was a good sport. He was my best friend. I’d tried to run him off like everyone else, but he overlooked my crazy need to keep people at arm’s length.

  The sound of thunder rumbled overhead as dark clouds formed in the distance. I grinned. The rain would cool me down and replenish me for the next few miles.

  I finished my full run, showered, and dressed for the rest of the day before making my kale smoothie and pouring it into my travel cup. The first time I’d tried it, I almost gagged at the taste, but it was just my new normal now.

  I pulled up outside the five-story Beaumont Foundation building. I’d helped Champ pick this place. It was a hidden gem just outside the downtown district. Close enough to be in town and yet far enough away from prying eyes that they wouldn’t see people coming and going. Champ Beaumont excelled in helping people, and so did I by association.

  I grabbed my favorite rose-colored lipstick and adjusted the rearview mirror, watching as I swiped the color over my lips. I mashed them together and checked my teeth.

  Grabbing the VIP badge out of my center console, I clipped it to my skirt and grabbed my briefcase, locking the car after I got out. Double doors stood in the distance. It was a welcoming sight. I knew everyone in this building, from the mail pushers to each vendor the Foundation worked with. I’d consulted on it all, like it was my baby to mold into something great, and I had. Well, Champ had listened to my nagging prophetic suggestions. That was all I could have ever asked for since I wouldn’t have a legacy of my own to leave behind. Less paperwork like that.

  I knew things, all kinds of things that I couldn’t explain. I’d tried to explain it once that my secrets came from the other side, but people didn’t really care how I came up with my predictions, just that they were accurate.

  Champ was a good man. A strong innovator. He was sort of like me. He saw things that others couldn’t. Whereas I saw ghosts and things that went bump in the night, Champ saw upgrades to the industry of personal safety, and he was damn good at his job. That was why we worked so well together.

  I pulled the door open and smiled as I passed workers coming and going. I headed straight for the executive elevators. I pressed the call button and stepped inside, swiping my key to the top floor.

  The elevator dinged, and the doors had begun to close when a hand snaked into the opening, stopping the doors from fully closing.

  Manicured fingers and polished gold cuff links were the first clue my day was about to be ruined. I pasted a strained smile on my face as the doors dinged and reopened, letting the latecomer slide inside.

  Peter stepped in. His bloodshot gaze met mine. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Yeah, fancy that,” I grimaced, knowing he must have timed it perfectly to catch me.

  He pushed the button to the third floor.

  “Listen, about last night…” My apologetic words trailed off as I debated what to say next that didn’t sound like I wanted him back but also didn’t border on the let’s-be-friends type of vibe. I rubbed at my neck, catching a glimpse of his reflecti
on in the shiny surface without having to face him.

  “It’s fine. You got scared,” he said, watching the numbers count up and acting like this elevator was the last place he wanted to be.

  He could have avoided me. He had to have seen me get into this elevator car. This was on purpose, no matter how he was acting. I bit my tongue. Maybe he just needed to get the last word. Some people were wired like that, but I wasn’t one of them. If it helped the guy find closure and give him back some dignity, it was the least I could do.

  “I’m a good catch, you know. Most women would have jumped at the chance to move in.”

  “I’m sure they would,” I said, stroking his ego. “But I can’t get serious. It’s not in the cards for me.”

  His strong jaw relaxed. “I’ll still be here when you come to your senses.”

  The elevator dinged, the door opened, and he stepped out without a backward glance.

  “Double damn cheese grits,” I cursed as the doors slid closed. He still thought we had a chance. Had I not made myself clear enough? I was sure returning the box of his things was a pretty good indicator that I wasn’t going to be changing my mind.

  I cleared my throat and stepped out on the top floor and headed straight toward Champ’s office, where his secretary, Stella, glanced up from behind her computer and greeted me with a smile.

  “When the feds flashed their badges, I knew you wouldn’t be far behind. They’re waiting for you.”

  I didn’t doubt they were. Few people knew my secret, and it hadn’t taken Stella long to figure out that I sometimes knew things I shouldn’t, even if Champ had never explained the how of it before.

  I rapped my knuckles on the office door before opening it.

  All three men rose as I entered.

  Champ’s office smelled of leather and his favorite cologne. The large desk was intimidating. The floor-to-ceiling window had an outstanding view of the mountains in the distance, but that wasn’t the best part of this room. The wall across the way looked ordinary to everyone that came, and few were privy to the magic that happened beyond that boundary. Magic I’d helped create first-hand.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” The lie tumbled from my lips, shoving away the replay in my mind from the elevator moments ago. Now wasn’t the time to correct Peter again. He’d eventually get the picture. If not, we’d have the hard talk once again until he understood me perfectly.

  Champ grinned like I was a secret weapon that these two were about to experience for the first time. His eyes twinkled. “Just in time, as always.”

  “Who is she? Your attorney?” the frumpy gray-haired fed asked.

  His wrinkled shirt made it look like the guy had just rolled out of bed. His coffee-stained tie told me that he’d at least scarfed down some caffeine. If I had to guess, this guy was less than a year away from retirement and riddled with short-timers’ disease.

  “No, I’m his business adviser,” I corrected and set my initial-engraved briefcase, which Champ had gifted me, down onto his desk. He kissed my cheek and went to pull up another chair when I stopped him.

  “Oh, I don’t have time to sit. This won’t take long.”

  “Ms…”

  “Libby Slaughter,” I said, offering my hand.

  “Ms. Slaughter, I’m Special Agent Cross, and this is Special Agent Helms.”

  The younger fed made the introductions and shook my hand before retaking his seat. He was dressed like a fed. Sharp, shiny, and stone faced. Well, at least I thought so before I glanced at his socks peeking out beneath his pants. Cartoon characters.

  Perfect, well, at least maybe these two won’t have sticks up their… My thoughts trailed off. No bad juju allowed; only positive vibrations were going with me into the afterlife.

  “Please call me Libby,” I corrected with a smile. “This won’t take long.”

  I popped my briefcase open and pulled out a file. “I believe you’re here for information on Jan Stein. Is that correct?”

  “Oh, no. Jan? Really? She had so much potential.” Champ sighed when he finally realized what this was all about.

  “I’m afraid we’ll never know now,” I said with a frown.

  “Ms. Slaughter, how could you possibly know the reason we’re here?” Helms asked.

  It was a smart question. Maybe this fed had two cups of coffee this morning. I held in my grin.

  “It’s my job to know things and to advise my client.”

  “Advise him on what exactly? You already said you aren’t his attorney,” Helms added.

  “I offer help with decision-making, among other things.”

  “Like helping women with new IDs?” Federal Agent Cross asked. His cartoon socks had originally made me think he was the more lighthearted one of the two, but I was starting to see that he was sharper than I’d given him credit for.

  A smile split my lips. “Of course. Name changes are all very legal when done through the courts. We just provide proof of the need to keep anonymity and get the files sealed. You see, the Beaumont Foundation is the privatized version of witness relocation, except instead of witnesses, it’s more along the lines of victim relocation. We help those that can’t help themselves.”

  “Exactly,” Champ said as if cheering me on.

  “Jan Stein was two months shy of having her divorce. She’s been in hiding for six months after numerous police reports and restraining orders didn’t stop her soon-to-be ex from beating her close to death. Her husband is currently locked up in the county jail, doing time for domestic abuse.” I handed over two files, one for each fed. “I can assure you we want to help in your investigation, and you’ll get nothing but full cooperation from the Foundation.”

  “Really?” Helms asked. “That will be a first.”

  I closed the briefcase and patted Champ on the back. “I’m advising my client to give you complete access.”

  “Complete?” Champ asked, sounding surprised.

  “And you just think he’s going to do it because you said so?” Helms asked.

  “Christmas is coming early, gentlemen. He’s going to grant you full access and without the need for a warrant,” I said, drumming my fingers against the briefcase.

  It wasn’t often things went this smoothly.

  “I am,” Champ interjected. “If Libby says I should, that’s what I’ll do. Her words are gospel around here.”

  He clicked a few buttons beneath his desk, and the wall across the room slid open, revealing a glass partition that looked down on the communication floor below. Workers were busy behind their computers. The large screens hanging on the walls showed video surveillance of different people.

  “Welcome to the hive, gentlemen,” Champ said with pride.

  “We would appreciate it if you don’t screw too much with the operation. We’d have to keep relocating perfectly safe people, but everything you could ever need or want on Jan Stein is accessible in that room. Including the training we’ve provided, the accounts that were set up, and a list of all of her abusive husband’s friends, should you need to question them.”

  “Libby,” Cross said. “Do you know exactly what happened to Jan?”

  “She’s dead. Two slugs to the chest, I believe.”

  “And how exactly would you know that?” Helms asked.

  “First, I saw it in a dream, and then her ghost visited me.”

  Helms’ salt-and-pepper brows dipped. “You’re one of the weirdos, aren’t you? A psychic or something?”

  Cross remained quiet and watchful. He seemed to be almost waiting to see if I’d offer anything more.

  “Yes, well, I’m not here to prove myself, and I have an alibi. I’m here suggesting to my client to give you everything you need to catch Jan’s killer.”

  They all turned quiet.

  “So, if that’s all, good day, gentlemen. I would stay and help, but I have another meeting.”

  I’d made it to the door before Cross called my name. “Libby, do you know who pulled the trigger?”


  “Yes.” I nodded with a frown. “I do. I also know anything I tell you wouldn’t be admissible in court.” I paused with my hand on the door, remembering the vivid details about the dream from last night—dark hair, hushed tones, an old lover. They’d had sex, and then he’d killed her.

  “Her desire for love outweighed her need to stay hidden and off the grid. The husband didn’t do it, but make sure you look into his acquaintances, particularly one of her old flames. I believe his name was Danny.”

  “You heard her, boys. Let’s take you into the hive. My surveillance room is your surveillance room.”

  Champ walked over to the door, opening it farther. “Anything else I need to know today?”

  “Don’t eat the sushi.” I smiled.

  Not that I’d seen anything. I just liked to screw with Champ from time to time.

  “I’ll call you later to discuss your portfolio and offer some suggestions. You’re going to need to do some branching out, but I haven’t picked up on the specifics yet.”

  “Anything I need to know now?”

  “No, it can wait. The feds need your assistance.” I turned to leave and paused. A knowing came over me like a flood of water through an open gate. “Scratch that. I think that conversation is going to have to wait. I’m going to need to take a few days off.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I…don’t know, yet.”

  “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  I walked out of the office and smiled at Stella in passing. “Will we see you again later today, perhaps?”