Shit.
“You gotta do it,” Ben said in his ear.
He holstered the gun and stood. The third-floor guards were pounding down the stairs but it didn’t matter. They’d see safeguarding Pia as more important than chasing him down. He hit the door as fast as he could and did what he did best.
Disappeared.
11
San Francisco, California
Sabrina didn't want to get of bed. In fact, she seriously considered calling in sick and staying there all day. She played with the thought for a few minutes—imagined letting the day waste away. As tempting as it sounded, she knew herself well enough to know that she'd be climbing the walls by noon. Besides, today was her first day back on homicide. Mathews would love it if she didn’t show.
She reached over and gave the body next to her a poke. “If I'm getting up, so are you,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. Standing, she made her way to the bathroom. She looked over her shoulder. The covers were still pulled up tight. “You better be up by the time I'm ready to go or your ass is getting left here,” she said before disappearing into the bathroom.
She came out fifteen minutes later to find Avasa, her two-year-old Rhodesian Ridgeback, waiting for her outside the door. She smiled. “Thought so,” she said, giving the dog’s floppy ears a ruffle. She dressed quickly and grabbed her shoes, sat down to put them on. “Let's get out of here before—”
The baby monitor next to the clock came to life. Avasa whined.
“Relax. It'll just take a few minutes.” She headed for the door, not at all surprised when the dog hopped back on the bed and burrowed her way under the covers.
She made her way downstairs, taking the hall as quietly as she could. Pushing her way into the nursery, she couldn't help but smile. She always smiled when she saw her. The baby was on her back, rolling from side to side, happily trying to eat her own toes. Sabrina leaned over the side of the crib and the baby broke into a wide, happy grin at the sight of the face that hovered above her. Reaching down, Sabrina lifted the sleep-warmed bundle from her crib, giving her a slight bounce and was rewarded with a giggle. The sound was her new favorite.
The baby leaned away from her chest and gazed up at her with eyes that were the tawny brown of a good shooting whiskey. Her smile crinkled them at the corners, and for a moment she looked just like her daddy.
“Hey, thought you’d be gone by now,” he said from the doorway and Sabrina turned to see Nickels standing in the doorway, light brown hair rumpled from sleep, flannel pajama pants slung low on narrow hips, his broad chest bare except for the burping cloth tossed over his shoulder. He had a bottle in one hand and a picture book in the other, Goodnight Moon.
“Late start. Go back to bed, I’ve got her,” she said, reaching for the bottle, reluctant to hand the baby over. Nickels laughed and shook his head, pulling the baby out of her arms.
“No, you go back to bed. It’s my turn,” he said her with a grin, making shooing motions with his book. The baby’s smile widened even more at the sight of her daddy and she clapped chubby fingers against his cheek so he’d look at her and smile back. “Good morning, beautiful girl,” he whispered, dropping a soft kiss on her cheek before turning toward Sabrina who lingered nearby. “Out,” he said and laughed when she heaved a sigh and stomped across the room.
Turning in the doorway, she watched father and daughter settle into the rocker next to the crib. He handed her the bottle and she popped it into her mouth. He fit her into the crook of his arm before cracking the book to read its pages, his soft, low voice reaching out to her, soothing her.
“Going for a run?” he said in the same voice he used to read to his daughter.
“Yeah. Want me to wait?” She liked his company when she ran, preferred it these days to being alone.
“Can't today. Got SWAT re-cert at eight o'clock.” He looked up at her and smiled.
She gave a low whistle. “Lucky you.”
He chuckled softly, “Quit playin’—it’s just you and me here so you can admit it. We both know you’re gonna miss it.”
He was right. She was going to miss it but she shrugged it off. After spending fifteen months loaned out to SWAT, she’d finally been able to make her way back. Her time away had proved to her that homicide was where she belonged—Mathews be damned. Besides, SWAT was out of the question for her now. One cowboy in the family was enough.
She smiled. “Want me to take over so you can get ready?” she said hopefully and he laughed.
“No, I want you to stop hovering.”
“Hey—I don't hover.”
“You do. You're a hoverer,” he said. “But I forgive you... actually I think it's kinda cute.”
“Cute?” She scoffed and pushed away from the door. “Now you're just being mean.”
“Sabrina.”
She looked back to see his face had gone serious. “Hmm?”
“Take the dog.”
“Like she’d let me leave without her.”
“And your back-up piece.”
“And I'm the hoverer?” she said and rolled her eyes. “Hello pot, meet kettle.”
“I'm just—” he looked down at the baby dozing in his arms, her lips slack around the bottle in her mouth, soft black curls framing her face. He looked back up at her but didn't finish what he was going to say. Didn't have to. He worried about her. They all did. Val, the twins, Strickland. Their worry was like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Rippling out to touch her when she least expected it, tipping her off balance. Shaking her with its reminder of everything that had happened over the past two years. Wade. David... they worried because they loved her. Because as her family, it was their job.
“Okay, okay,” she said with a nod and lifted her pant leg to show him the .380 LCP strapped to her ankle. “Never leave home without it.”
“Thank you.” Nickels pulled the bottle from the baby's mouth and placed her gently on his shoulder. He began to rub and pat her back. “You know… if you want to skip the run altogether and make me pancakes, I wouldn't mind in the slightest.”
She laughed. “That's what I love about you, Nick—forever the optimist,” she said before turning to make her way back to her room.
By the time she tied her shoes and tossed her hair into a ponytail, Avasa was up and waiting at the door, ready to go.
______
They ran the trail. Her feet pounded down the dirt, even and steady despite the twinge that shot through her thigh every time her foot made contact with the ground. It would always hurt. Remind her of what had happened to her. How close she'd come to dying. That it had been her brother who'd been the one to hurt her. The tight, puckered flesh that marred her leg had finally healed. She’d finally let it. She’d battled her way through rehab—and this time she didn’t stop until it was done.
These days, the agonizing pain had faded to nothing more than a dull ache. It would always hurt but she welcomed the discomfort—relished it in a strange way. The pain in her thigh reminded her that she’d made it through. It was the fact that she still suffered, just a little, that proved to her it was real.
She'd survived.
Without even thinking, her feet and legs began to slow until she was walking along the trail. She was close. The dog, used to it by now, trotted the few remaining yards and sat in the dirt to wait.
Stopping, Sabrina faced the woods where she'd found a dead girl two years before and stared into the trees. It was like staring into the face of a monster.
What’s wrong Melissa… miss me?
Wade’s voice echoed in her head, little more than a whisper. He’d crept up on her over the past few days, growing louder and louder. Soon, the faint murmur in her head would become a howling scream. She’d put it off too long, managed to fool herself into believing that this time Wade was gone for good.
Gone for good? Ain’t no such thing, Darlin’…
She’d have to go see Phillip later. It was the only way, the only thing she’d fou
nd that could quiet the voice in her head but for now she did the only thing she could—she ignored him. Focused on the space between the trees where she’d found the girl. It was hard but she made herself do it. Instead of listening, she forced herself to remember the way the girl looked. The empty sockets where her eyes should’ve been. The lime green polish on her toes. The red ribbon tied around her wrist. The word stabbed into her stomach.
RUN
You keep bringing us back to this place, darlin’… you even understand why?
He’d asked her that once, staring down at her, a sickening grin stretched across his ruined face. Yeah, she understood why. She felt the calm, steady beat of her heart. Reminded herself that not only had she survived. She'd won.
Are you sure about that, darlin’?
Her cell let out a chirp and she plucked it off her hip.
“Vaughn.”
“Hey, Little Miss Sunshine—I hear you’re my new partner.” It was Strickland. Hearing his voice made her smile. Made it easier to push Wade’s relentless whisper from her mind.
“That’s what they told me,” she said, her smile turning to a full-fledged grin. Yeah, she’d miss SWAT but this is where she belonged.
He laughed. “Well then, you better get your ass in gear—we caught a case.”
She turned away from the clearing and snapped her fingers. Avasa’s ears picked up and she trotted over to where she stood, looking up at her expectantly. “Text me the address. I’ll meet you there in an hour,” she said before closing her phone and heading for home, her dog at her side.
12
Barcelona, Spain
Ben met him on the tarmac a few hours later. “What part of clean sweep did you not understand?”
The part where it entailed shooting an unarmed woman. “Relax. It's gonna be fine,” he said, dropping his duffle at his feet. “The gun used to do the guards has her prints all over it and I used different calibers and kill methods. Once you plant the evidence in her computer that points the way to her hiring a hit squad, no one is gonna believe her lone gunman theory.”
“She saw you.” Ben shook his head. “What if she recognized you from the club?”
“Please—the last time she saw me, she was blitzed out on booze and roofies,” he said, despite the doubt that nagged him. “That whole night is a big, black hole as far as she’s concerned.”
Ben was as unconvinced as he was. “You should've killed her. Leaving her alive was sloppy.”
Michael eyes narrowed just a twinge. “Would you've killed her?” he said. Ben looked away and he scoffed. “Didn't think so. It's bad enough she's gonna spend the rest of her life in prison for multiple murders she had nothing to do with. Just let it go.”
“Easy for you to say—” Ben's phone let out a chirp. He dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Meet you on the plane,” he said, turning his back on him and walking toward the tail of the plane before answering it. Michael watched him go, caught the smile on his face that appeared after he said hello. The grin faded quickly, replaced by a look that said he was all business now. After only a few seconds, he snapped his phone closed and dropped it in his pocket before looking up. He walked back toward the front of the plane. “Change of plans. We're making a pit stop before heading to Helena,” Ben said and he moved past him, up the steps to the interior of the Lear.
“Where?” Michael said, picking up his duffle and following.
His partner shot him a look over his shoulder. “San Francisco.”
______
San Francisco.
As soon as he boarded the Lear, he dropped his duffle and stretched out on the couch, closed his eyes and willed himself into oblivion but it was useless. No way was he sleeping. Not when all he could think about was Sabrina.
It looked like fate had finally decided to stop being such a bitch and throw him a bone. He’d been wracking his brain, trying to figure out a way to slip his collar and find a way to see her, but suddenly his way was clear… he looked across the interior of the Lear to where Lark had set up shop and felt the skin on the back of his neck go tight before closing his eyes again. At least it was clearer than it had been a few hours ago. He still had to figure out how in the hell he was going to get rid of Lark and the kid—
“We need to talk.”
He cracked a lid to see Ben sitting cross-legged in the middle of the aisle, three feet from his face. He looked worried. It was never a good sign when Ben looked worried.
“So talk.” He closed his eyes again and waited for the kid to start in with whatever was bothering him, but all he heard was the constant tapping that told him Lark was on his computer.
He opened his eyes. Ben was still there. The worry was too. “Look, getting shot makes me tired, so if you’re just gonna—”
“It wasn't Lark. It was me… sort of. I’m the reason my father knows about Sabrina.”
He shot a glare in Lark's direction. He was sitting at the table, the same table they'd been sitting at that last time they'd all been together on this plane. They'd been having a conversation much like this one. He’d trusted Lark and he'd betrayed him. Now it seemed to be Ben's turn to fuck him over. When was he gonna learn?
He shifted his glare back to Ben and settled on his face. “You have two minutes.”
“My dad knew something was up with you. After finding your sister's killer, you came back wrong and he wanted to know why.” Ben scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. “He kept at me, bugging me. Reminding me that my duty was, first and foremost to my family. To him,” he said with barely contained disgust. “I repeatedly and quite emphatically, told him to go fuck himself.”
Michael narrowed his eyes on the kid’s face. “Skip to the part where I get screwed over. It’s always my favorite.”
“I knew it was only a matter of time before Green Mile back there started flapping his yap and guaranteed, nothing he had to say would've been favorable.” He jerked his head toward Lark who was listening. He hadn't turned around but the tapping had stopped. “But I kept my mouth shut and an eye out. Helped her get her job back. Tried to get her to rehab her leg.” Now he looked serious. Serious Ben was never a good thing. “I did what I could—for her and for you.”
It took him a second to understand what Ben was saying but then the realization hit. “You recruited her.”
Ben shrugged. “It was either recruit her or kill her,” he said, shaking his head. “You're the one that brought her into this mess, man. I was just trying to make sure she stayed in one piece.”
“By turning her into an assassin?” His stomach clenched at the thought of Sabrina doing what he did, going the places he went. Thought of her standing over a mark like Cordova and pulling the trigger.
“She isn’t an asset. She's a spotter. She sees a hard to locate target cross her desk or catches on to something that might interest us during surveillance, she calls me. That's it.”
“What does any of this have to do with your father? You could’ve turned her without handing her over.”
“I did. She’s the one—she handed herself over. For you.” Ben swiped a rough hand over his face. “I mean, Jesus—didn’t you ever wonder how she got you out of there. You and her friend? She’s badass but she’s not a miracle worker.”
“She called your father.” It wasn’t a question. He could almost see her doing it… he’d been in bad shape, poisoned by whatever David Song had been using to incapacitate his victims. He’d felt himself dying and he hadn’t cared—not when it meant dying for her… and in the end it had been her sacrifice, not his, that’d saved them both.
Defeat and anger, he felt them both, struggled with them as they pulled him in every possible direction. “She's the one who called you from San Francisco. She's your contact there?”
Ben hesitated then nodded. “One of them, yeah.”
“How long? How long has she been working for you?”
Ben hesitated again—this time a bit longer. “I approached he
r while she was still in that hospital in Texas.”
All along. Ben had been in contact with Sabrina all along and he hadn't said a word. Something crawled along the nape of his neck and trickled down his spine. “Is she chipped?”
“No. I convinced my father it wasn’t necessary,” Ben said.
“How?”
Ben shrugged. “Does it matter?”
He felt a dull pounding start up in the back of his skull and had to make himself unclench his fists. “Yeah. It does. It matters a lot.”
“I might’ve… liberated certain evidence from the SFPD that could’ve been used to prosecute her in a few murders,” Ben said.
He was talking about the bat she’d used nearly twenty years ago to defend herself from being raped by her mother’s boyfriend. The same bat Wade Bauer had used to kill a police officer in order to frame her for his murder. If Livingston had it, he’d be able to make Sabrina do anything he wanted. “Where is it now?”
“My dad has it,” Ben said, but he cut his eyes in Lark’s direction for a split second and gave him an almost unperceivable shake of his head. He was lying. Wherever the bat was, Shaw didn’t have it.
“Why? Why are you protecting her?” he said. Ben's motives mattered because the wrong ones would get him killed.
Ben got that look again. That serious look that showed you just who he really was. “Because my father has stolen enough from you. Don’t get me wrong—you made your bed all by yourself but as far as I'm concerned, your debt to him is cleared.”
Michael lowered the gun and re-set the hammer. He looked away, out the window at the blue and white that whipped by so fast it looked like it was standing still. The kid was wrong. His debt would never be cleared. Not until Reyes was dead and buried.
13
The Sabrina Vaughn series Set 2 Page 5
