Hunting Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 3)

by Kate Allenton

  Hunting

  Justice

  fractured mind series

  book 3

  Kate Allenton

  Copyright © 2019 Kate Allenton

  All rights reserved.

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  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

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  TABLE OF 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 1

  I clenched and unclenched my fist to stop myself from leaping over the long counter and strangling the gray-haired woman. Killing and a free trip back to the psych ward were definite possibilities in my future.

  The Department of Motor Vehicles waiting room reminded me of an onion, a flavor-adding necessity in recipes, as this place was in life, but unlike an onion, when you peel back the layers, the DMV didn’t make me want to cry—it made me ready to kill.

  The room was crowded with men and women who sat idly on the verge of falling asleep. The stale air was a mixture of wasted time and someone who’d forgotten deodorant. Ten plastic seats lined the walls. Almost every seat was filled with a butt that spilled over the edge, while kids and toddlers ran back and forth. Aggravated patrons played on their phones to pass the time, ignoring the chaotic kids around them. The one that had been sitting next to me had a bad case of tapping his foot, and if I had to sit there another minute, he might be leaving with one less appendage.

  Their interest only piqued when the intercom came on to announce the next number in line. I was one of the lucky ones. I’d arrived at the building fifteen minutes prior to the doors opening. There were only five people in front of me, and that had been an hour and a half ago. I’d been standing at the counter for mere minutes before the urge to go postal clawed at my resolve, threatening to spring free.

  Three women managed the computers while six additional computer stations sat empty. Cameras covered every angle of the room. If things went south, getting what I needed and getting out would prove more difficult than moving around in the psych ward.

  “Ms. Bray. I can’t help it that you were incarcerated and couldn’t renew your license online,” the woman said loudly.

  I wasn’t embarrassed by the announcement. It was a badge of honor. I’d saved lives by finding the serial killer. The woman standing next to me slid farther down the counter and out of reach. She was the smartest person in this place.

  “I helped the FBI catch a killer. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “It’s stated on our website that the policies of the State of South Carolina have changed and more paperwork is needed.”

  I slammed my hands down onto the counter before pointing to the mounds of paperwork in front of the woman. I’d brought everything required; two proofs of residency and additional proof of who I was in the forms of my passport, checkbook, and Social Security card. Although, in reality, I could have purchased all of that off the internet’s dark web for a hundred bucks, and I would have if I was certain the police wouldn’t arrest me…again.

  “I brought everything on your list that I got on my last visit when you wouldn’t let me renew the damn thing. What more could you possibly want from me?”

  I rubbed my lips together to keep from saying something that might get me kicked to the curb the same way the government worker had done yesterday. The last time I’d forgotten one little slip of information, and my twenty-dollar bribe offended the stick-in-the-mud woman behind the counter. My only regret was not offering more.

  Tick, tick, tick. I tapped the pen in my hand against the counter. I could kill with this pen. A quick jab into the woman’s artery. Messy, yes, but effective.

  A silver metal frame holding a family picture was propped up on the woman’s desk. Her, a man, and two boys. Some people might feign interest to get on this woman’s good side, but I thought of a better way they could be useful—pressure points if I was sent away again.

  A few taps on the keyboard and the lady leaned back in her chair and tilted her head. “I need your marriage certificate and divorce papers to prove the legality of your name change.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” My voice shot up an octave, and the manager running this circus at the end of the counter perked up, meeting my gaze. He lifted a single brow.

  I stilled the tapping of the ink pen, tightening it in my grasp as I returned my gaze to the hag behind the counter that was keeping me from legally driving my car.

  I lowered my voice. “Surely you’re looking at my twin sister’s files. She’s the only one that’s married.”

  “Lucy Bray, 1524 Wymore Road. That’s you, right?”

  “Yes, but I’ve never been married.”

  “Says here you married Martin Steinbuckle in the State of Nevada.” She turned the computer around to show me.

  My shoulders deflated. I hadn’t heard that name since I was twenty-one years old.

  “Martin.” I sighed and placed an understanding smile on my face even as I clenched the pen tighter in my hand. If Martin had screwed this up, he was going to die. “Martin and I were a mistake. You see we were in Vegas and well…”

  “Mistake or not, I need a marriage certificate and divorce papers before I can issue your renewed license. The State of South Carolina requires it.”

  “I’m not married. Martin promised his uncle would file the annulment. That should have voided all of this.”

  Understanding registered on the lady’s face. “Ms. Bray, or should I say Steinbuckle”—the woman smirked, enjoying my torture—“I understand your predicament, truly I do, but you have to understand mine. I can’t renew your license without the proper paperwork. If your marriage was truly annulled, bring me proof, and we’ll work on having it changed in the system.”

  The woman fastened my documents with a paper clip then plopped them on the counter. “Have a nice day.”

  Have a nice day? How in the hell was I going to do that? My shoulders sagged as memories of Martin rushed through my mind. We’d been drunk, I’d been celebrating my sister’s marriage before she’d been whisked away on her honeymoon, and the rest of that night had been a big blur. How in the h
ell was I supposed to fix this if I didn’t even know where to find the man?

  Finding my husband promised to be more of a challenge than finding dead people and killers. One thing was a given; if Martin Freakin’ Steinbuckle, SOB ne’er-do-well, hadn’t followed through on the paperwork, he’d only live long enough to regret it.

  Jack Sloan’s limo was taking up three parking spots in the back of the lot. Explaining that only one tiny legal document held me back from taking his job was going to be interesting, even comical. I couldn’t provide human resources with the correct paperwork, no matter what skills I’d be able to bring to the table.

  I opened the door and slid inside the air-conditioned limo. The leather seats pampered my tush after the hour-long plastic-sitting punishment.

  Sloan folded the newspaper he’d been reading. “Well, don’t be shy. Let me see your picture.”

  “I didn’t get it.” The words spewed out of my mouth like vomit. “I didn’t have the proper paperwork.”

  He clasped his fingers together and rested them on the newspaper. “I double checked your paperwork from the list. How is that possible?”

  I grimaced. My past indiscretion had come back to bite me in the derriere. “Apparently I’m still married to a mistake, and only divorce or death is going to fix this.”

  “You’re married?” he asked, as perplexed as I’d been.

  “In my twenties, while inebriated on the Vegas strip, I was married by Elvis, and by dawn the next day, Martin Steinbuckle left me a note that he’d handle the annulment paperwork. Of course, that was after he’d taken my winnings from the night before. He left me broke and stranded. So, you see, he’s partly to blame for the bright ray of sunshine I am today. He singlehandedly ruined my innocence.”

  “I doubt that.” Sloan chuckled. “Apparently, he lied, Mrs. Steinbuckle,” Sloan said, trying to hide the humor in his voice and the smile forming on his face.

  He failed.

  “If I end up in jail because I killed my husband, you’d bail me out, right?”

  “You kill your husband, and I’m not even sure my attorneys could help based on your track record for harming others.”

  I huffed. “I only harm people who deserve it.”

  Chapter 2

  “I’m not sure a jury would care.” His voice softened. “Still, I get it. If I could walk away from my past, I would.”

  “The past is what defines us. Although there are some mistakes I wouldn’t make again. Like getting married.”

  Sloan nodded. “Everyone makes mistakes, Lucy. How you handle them reveals your true character.”

  “Why are you getting all philosophical on me?”

  His lips twitched as he turned his focus back on me and not on where that thought had taken him. “I’m not turning philosophical, just finding humor in your circumstances.”

  “Now there’s the smartass I’ve been sleeping with.”

  “You wouldn’t like me any other way.” He chuckled. “Don’t forget my driver will pick you up at eight for the party.”

  I sighed long and loud and theatrically. “You know that parties aren’t really my thing, especially employee team-building exercises.”

  “Yes, but this one won’t be boring. You get to catch a criminal.”

  True. Sloan had pitched me the idea that I’d get to use my pickpocketing skills and play a game of capture the flag, only his version was saving the innocent. Get in, save the kidnapped victim, and get us both out alive, without being caught.

  I was the unknown, and I liked it that way.

  “The others in my group don’t know about your involvement yet.”

  I turned tingly inside. “I’m your dirty little secret.”

  “It’s a training exercise we put on every year. The guests are expecting something to happen and stand witness to my organization in action during a real-life situation.”

  “You play the best games,” I said, tossing his paper onto the floor. I hiked up my skirt and straddled his lap as the limo pulled out of the parking lot. I kissed him, reigniting the heat between us. Getting kinky in the backseat would almost make me forget the ninety minutes I’d wasted in that hellhole. “How about you tell Lurch to drive us around town for an hour or two. You can help me forget all about my marriage.”

  He rested his palms on my hips and let me take the lead. He was smart like that.

  I kissed him softly, nibbling on his lip before deepening the kiss, figuring out what he liked and what turned him on. Using my abilities gave me the power to cheat.

  I was a total cheater, leaving my morals in the DMV waiting room. The Government’s experimental drug came in handy. Not only was I their little science project able to make a blood connection to help catch killers, but I could also tap into emotions, and Sloan’s were telling in the confined space. I knew without question what was making him hot, and I had every intention of using the knowledge to my advantage.

  His hold on my hips tightened as I ground into him. His palm traveled up my back and into my hair as he broke the connection and kissed a trail down my neck.

  “You know, I could go to jail in some countries for doing this,” he said. His hot breath teased my neck.

  “Why’s that?” I asked, tilting my head as his hand rested at my side beneath my breast. I wanted more. I needed more.

  “You’re married,” he said. His lips twisted into a smile against my skin. “I guess we’re both breaking the law today.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  I hadn’t even had time to break the buttons on his shirt with a hard tug when his phone rang and the limo stopped. The driver announced over the intercom. “We’ve reached Ms. Bray’s residence.”

  “Give me just a second, and we’ll move this inside,” Sloan said as I slid off of him and righted my clothes just for the walk into my house.

  “Sloan,” he answered, pressing the phone to his ear. He stayed silent while listening to whoever was on the other end. He met my gaze, giving me an apologetic look, and I knew instantly that my fun was about to drive away and leave me high and dry.

  “I’m on my way,” he announced and hung up without saying goodbye. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but there’s a problem at the hotel that I need to handle.”

  “Is this your attempt to avoid jail time?” My lips twitched.

  “I’d do hard time for you.”

  His admission made me giddy.

  “Go ahead. I need to check in on Gigi and make some arrangements to start tracking my husband.”

  “Don’t make any other plans tonight after the party. You and I have unfinished business.”

  I leaned in and kissed him good, giving him something to remember. “If you're lucky, I might even stay for a sleepover.”

  Chapter 3

  The house phone rang just as I opened my door, and I dropped my purse and paperwork on the table in the vestibule as I hurried to answer the call. There was only one reason that the house phone would ring. Gigi.

  I picked up the receiver, unsure why Grant hadn’t called my cell if there was an update. My brother-in-law spent morning, noon, and night with Gigi if he wasn’t working with the supernatural task force. Considering I wasn’t assigned any killers to hunt, it was like we were both on vacation.

  A month ago, I’d had no choice but to help them with their tasks. Now, I was technically a free woman. Thanks to my team members breaking the law and destroying the evidence against me. It was our little secret and I’d never tell.

  “Hello,” I answered. Every fiber of my being stilled as if my DNA knew this call was important.

  “Ms. Bray, it’s Dr. Greta Nelson, your sister’s physician.”

  I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. “Yes, Dr. Nelson, I remember you. Is Gigi okay?”

  “She’s woken up.”

  “Yes.” I squealed and did my version of a happy dance like a bored five year old at a recital.

  “But we have a situation. Do you think you could stop by? She’s de
manding to see you.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “You might want to hurry.” The doctor’s voice held a rasp of urgency in the tone.

  “I’m on my way,” I said, hanging up without any more questions.

  “Yes.” I pumped my fist in the air. My dance moves forgotten. This was the moment that I’d been waiting for, praying for. My sister was out of the coma. I grabbed my car keys and stepped into the garage. No way was I letting a pesky little thing like a license keep me from seeing my sister. Waiting on a cab could take too long. What if Gigi slipped back under again? Surely a cop and a judge would understand. If not, I’d make them.

  I tried to drive the speed limit, knowing that if I got pulled over the license in my purse would be Gigi’s. It might be hard to explain how she was in two different places at the same time.

  I skidded to a stop in front of the hospital and waved at the security guard who knew me by name. “Lucy, wait…”

  “No time, Skinner. She’s awake,” I yelled back and took the emergency exit stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. My lungs pumping hard and barely winded by the time I hit the third floor. Running high school track had paid off not just for bypassing elevators, but had potential use like running from the law. I did my best rendition of run-walking down the corridor and then turned the corner. Gigi’s hospital room door was open. Three security guards stood outside. I was trying to ease by them when big burly fingers clenched my arm, halting my progress.

  Tension thickened in the air. The security guards had their hands wrapped around their Tasers. The doctor stood unmoving just inside the door.

  Gigi’s hospital gown flapped around her wobbly legs as she stood on the bed, holding a needle to Grant’s neck. Grant was holding out his hands as if to block others from entering.

  Gigi looked like a wild woman. The braid I’d put in her hair was coming undone. Her legs were wobbling as if she had no strength. And for as long as she’d been in a coma, it was shocking to see her on her feet at all. Her poor pale face was scared, and I don’t mean scary-movie scared. The emotions in the room were molasses thick. Gigi was petrified and…angry. Two things that could cause the adrenaline surge that was keeping her upright.