No True Justice

by H. L. Wegley

  Girl, why are you asking him that? That’s dangerous ground. You’re jinxed, Gemma. Bad luck. You hurt people.

  Gemma tried to choke the life out of the accusing voice inside. Besides, she only wanted to know his perspective on love. That’s all. To file it away for … whatever.

  “I wasn’t implying there are no feelings. But my definition of love. Okay. Suppose I was attracted to you, Gemma.”

  She drew a sharp breath. Her arms were still around Lex to soak in his warmth. She was doing plenty of that.

  Maybe this conversation wasn’t a good idea.

  Lex continued. “You know what I mean, really attracted to you. I just can’t get you out of my mind. It’s to the point where I want to spend every waking minute with you. My heart does that skip-a-beat thing every time you’re near. And the thought of kissing you drives me completely—”

  “That’s enough.” Gemma’s heart was doing double time and Lex could probably feel it as tightly as they were wound around each other. “I—I get the idea.”

  “No, you don’t. Listen. Suppose all those things were true about my feelings for you. Those are still just feelings. Only when I give my heart to you, unreservedly, committing it always and forever to you, do all those feelings have a meaningful context. My commitment validates them, makes it all part of my love for you. Now, I truly love you, because out of all the women on the planet, I have chosen you and you alone.”

  “But all this is hypothetical, right?” Had she actually said that? Maybe she had only thought it. Her mind was in such a muddle after hearing Lex pour out his heart to her … well, hypothetically.

  Lex’s soliloquy continued, so maybe he hadn’t heard her. “But before the commitment, before I chose you, it was only feelings.

  “You mean chemistry?” Her voice had gone hoarse and it cracked on the last word.

  “Yes. But chemicals get used up. Chemical reactions end and batteries go dead. You need something to keep them charged, something to sustain a relationship.”

  “Lex, marriages break up every day. What do you do when feelings change? And what do you do if I—if a person causes bad things to happen to you? If they always bring bad luck?”

  She had to ask. Would Lex abandon her when the bad things started happening like they always did? Gemma’s jinx?

  “Of course, things change over time. But, if I was committed to love the person I chose, there would always be new feelings brought by new aspects of the relationship.”

  Lex had changed back to first person.

  “Gemma, it’s just like God says. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres … love never fails.”

  It felt like Lex was talking to her. He must be.

  I need him to be.

  After being alone for the past eight months, Gemma didn’t want that kind of life for another month or even another minute.

  Maybe, if she set her mind to it, she could do something right and not bring calamity on the people she cared about, people like Lex.

  He had stopped talking.

  When had that happened? She didn’t know. But she did know Gemma Saint was warm now … warmer than warm. And breathing a little too hard for a body at rest.

  Lex felt warm too. But they were still holding on to each other like two—that simile wasn’t going where she intended.

  Hypothermia was over. Hyperventilation on the other hand …

  Gemma looked out of the cove toward the river.

  With the canyon now enveloped in shadows, twilight had begun in Crooked River Canyon.

  Lex’s arms tightened around her. He had stopped breathing.

  Evidently, hyperventilation was over too. Something had changed.

  Gemma pulled her cheek from the comfortable, comforting place where it had rested, his chest, and she listened.

  Within a few seconds, she understood.

  In the distance, the wop, wop, wop of a helicopter’s rotor sounded.

  The menacing noise grew louder.

  Chapter 11

  Lex released Gemma when she tried to sit up. Evidently, she had heard the chopper too.

  He looked up river toward the noise. His heart went from a trot to a gallop. “It's coming down the river and it’s down in the canyon.”

  Gemma’s body stiffened. “They will see us.”

  “Maybe not if we move to the other side of the cove. They can't see us there unless they look behind them, after passing over us. But your red shorts and white tank top—”

  “Yeah. I'm a neon sign.”

  “Not if I cover you up. At least I'm wearing shades of brown. Come on, we need to snuggle again. Aren't you excited?”

  “Y'all ain't funny, Lex James.” She crawled to the other side of the tiny cove and pressed her body against the rock.

  “Maybe not all of me. But part of you is.”

  “Now you're making fun of the way I talk.”

  “So talk like, who was it, Georgia Simpson?”

  “I buried her and celebrated two days ago.”

  Lex laid against Gemma, covering her bright clothing with his. “Have I got you covered?”

  The helicopter’s engine grew deafening as it echoed off the canyon walls.

  “This is not ladylike, Lex.”

  “I love the alliteration, but that's not what I asked.”

  “Yeah. I'm covered.”

  “Here they come. Don't move.”

  The chopper inched its way down the canyon.

  Lex couldn’t see it well from his position at the base of the rock. If shooting started, he needed to react, instantly, or they had no chance to survive an attack. But covering Gemma, he could barely see the chopper. He only had one option.

  Please, God, don’t let them start shooting.

  The helicopter stopped near them, then slowly swung around in a full three-sixty, as if this location was suspect.

  Lex willed the helicopter to move downriver.

  It didn't. The chopper hovered, in place. Hardly fifty yards away.

  “What's happening?” Gemma squirmed beneath him.

  “They stopped, almost over us. Stop your squirming”

  “If they start poking out guns, you've got to let me know, Lex.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I—I've got to—”

  “It's climbing, Gemma.” He blew out his relief in a single blast of air.

  The helicopter slowly rose out of the Canyon.

  Lex looked down at Gemma’s face. “What were you saying?”

  “It—it doesn't matter.”

  “Maybe it does to me. Why did you want me to tell you if the guns—”

  She pushed Lex off from her and sat up. “Because—did anyone ever tell you that you’re a little slow?”

  “The twins say that all the time.”

  “Lex …” Gemma clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled.

  He didn't resist.

  Gemma was stronger than she looked. He might not have been able to prevent what was coming. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

  Her huge brown eyes blurred as they moved within inches of his. “I didn't want to go through everything we've been through and then get shot to death before … before …”

  Gemma kissed him.

  Like everything else about Gemma, it was perfect … well, perfect for Lex James.

  The past four hours, culminating in Gemma’s kiss, had awakened something in Lex for the first time. What should he say? What should he not say?

  He fumbled for words until Gemma’s penetrating gaze jarred the words loose, a verbal fumble. “You didn't have to force me to do that. You could've asked.”

  “Forced? You didn't put up much resistance, Lex. Besides, I would never beg anyone for a kiss.”

  Gemma may not realize it but, at the moment, she was begging for one. And Lex would have obliged her, but he needed to see what the chopper was up to. One wrong decision at this juncture and there would be no more kisses, no more Lex, and no more Gemma.


  He peered over the top of the rock just as the chopper descended to the ground on top of the canyon rim.

  Soon the engine noise died and the wop, wop ended. The helicopter had landed.

  Gemma’s forehead wrinkled. “I don't get it. They hovered over us and didn't see us. Then they landed above us on the canyon rim.”

  “There's a method to their madness. Before investors built the dam and started pumping water from Opal Springs, they cut a road into the side of the canyon. It's the only place you can drive down into this section of Crooked River.”

  “You mean the FBI thugs looked at the maps and figured out we would have come through here?”

  “You're pretty smart. Not two hundred, but you're pretty and smart.”

  “And you've been spending too much time with little boys. Now, how are we going to get by them.”

  “We need to wait and see what they do. My guess is that, in about five minutes, a black van—”

  “You mean that one?” Gemma pointed at the road cut into the opposite side of the canyon.

  “Get your arm down.” He pulled her behind the rock at the other end of the cove. “We need to do something about that white tank top. It's too visible.”

  “Well, I'm not taking it off.”

  “Keep your voice down, Gemma.”

  “You're acting like a little boy. Get your arm down. Keep your voice down. A bossy little boy.”

  “A bossy girl made me kiss her. By the way, do I kiss like a little boy, Gemma?”

  “I don't—I mean I think—I don’t have to answer that.”

  “Taking the fifth?”

  “We shouldn’t be discussing—you are crazy, Lex. These guys are getting out of the van. We need a plan to—”

  “You would drive any guy crazy.” He held Gemma’s shoulders.

  The look she gave him seemed to say, you are not just any guy, Lex James. But Lex was a complete newbie at interpreting those almond-shaped brown eyes. And sometimes he read what he wanted into other people’s expressions. And at other times, he completely lost focus on the most important things.

  “I know we need a plan to keep you safe, so you can testify and send those guys to prison where they belong. We’ll wait and watch and plan based on who they leave here after dark. Trust me, they’ll leave somebody.”

  For the next three hours they waited.

  And for three hours, one plan replayed in his mind every time he looked at Gemma, a plan that brought her, the twins, and Lex together, permanently. But how could he be thinking this way about a woman he’d only known for a few hours?

  Gemma’s words answered that question. You are crazy, Lex.

  Shortly after 8:00 p.m., all but one of the FBI agents got into the van. One of the men who climbed in was limping. The rattlesnake rim sniper.

  The van slowly climbed the steep road out of the canyon and disappeared from sight.

  Ten minutes later, the chopper took off.

  At 9:00 p.m., darkness shrouded the deep canyon, though the sun was probably setting over the Cascades about now.

  Gemma shifted her weight on the rock bench she sat on.

  Her tank top glowed in the evening light like white clothes under a UV light.

  “What are you staring at, Mr. James?”

  “You. That tank top is glowing in the dark. When we make our move, I'll take off my brown T-shirt and you can slip it over—”

  “Lex, your T-shirt absorbed a gallon of your sweat.”

  “But we swam in the river most of the way down here. It's relatively clean.”

  “I'm into absolutely clean. As in sterile. Besides, things that stink make me puke. I could get us killed if—”

  “If you don't wear it, you will get us killed.”

  “Now that I think about it, we haven't eaten since breakfast. I don't have anything to puke.”

  “Gemma, what's gotten into you? You're nervous about this, aren't you?”

  She leaned against him and nodded.

  Lex circled her shoulders with his arms. “You know, things looked pretty bleak when the shooter was coming down the canyon rim after us. You prayed and we got a miracle.”

  “How can anyone call a rattlesnake a miracle?”

  “Well, it was. And maybe you should try that again.”

  Gemma pressed her cheek against his chest and grew still.

  Lex looked down at her and cupped her cheek.

  Her ear lay over his heart. She was listening.

  That Gemma would want to hear his heart beating, awakened something that hadn’t been awake in—maybe it never had been, until now.

  He had to keep this young woman alive. And the plan he was about to hatch would play an important role in accomplishing that goal. But the hardest part might be staying focused on the plan to keep them alive instead of the plan to keep Gemma.

  She tilted her head up and peered into his eyes. “I'll pray, Lex. It's time, isn't it?”

  “Yeah. Slip on my shirt and let's take a dip in the river. We need to be on the other side to get by them. But, while we’re swimming, stay away from the dam. There's a strong current where the water goes through two twelve-foot tubes leading to the big turbines. If you get sucked in, those tubes will shoot you right into the blades and—”

  “Stop it, Lex. If you're trying to freak me out, you did.” She sat up and put her hands on his shoulders. “Will you swim downstream of me? Keep me away from the dam? Please?”

  “You got it.”

  Five minutes later they crawled out of the river on the east bank, well above the dam.

  Lex raised his head. He peeked over the bank and scanned the dirt roadway beyond the dam.

  No one.

  “The buildings are a quarter-mile down this road. That's also where the road coming down from the top comes in. We'll need to take it slow and easy through that part.”

  Lex led Gemma down the left side of the road lined with small trees and bushes that grew along the river’s edge.

  The road turned to the left as they approached the lights around the buildings. Before those lights could expose them, Lex stepped off the road and made his way through the bushes beside it.

  Gemma hooked her fingers around his belt and followed close behind in the darkness.

  The bushes ended.

  Lex stopped, while he sought a way to cross the open area.

  Someone’s cell phone rang.

  Lex waited.

  A man's voice spoke softly.

  Lex couldn’t hear the words above the sound of the river.

  The voice grew louder. The man came into view, walking their way, talking on his phone.

  From the few words Lex could distinguish, this guy sounded like one of the FBI agents.

  A second man, wearing a uniform, followed a few steps behind.

  Probably a security guard.

  The light from the building might reveal Gemma and Lex. He dropped into the darkness behind a bush and listened.

  Gemma knelt behind him.

  “So you want me to stay here all night. But what about the chopper?”

  “That's the FBI agent,” he whispered to Gemma.

  The man pulled the phone from his ear and swore at the device in his hand.

  “Did you lose the connection?” the second man came alongside.

  “Yeah.”

  “The reception is not so good down here in the canyon. But, if you walk a couple of hundred yards up the hill on the canyon road, it's much better.”

  “Thanks. I'll try that.” The FBI agent turned and took the road that climbed out of the canyon.

  This was the opportunity Lex had hoped for. One man to elude or overpower, a man not bent on killing them, the security guard. But would he try to alert the FBI agent? Lex needed to prevent that, somehow.

  “Wait here, Gemma. When I toss a rock back here, come immediately as long as Mr. FBI hasn't returned.”

  “Be careful, Lex. I'm praying for you.”

  He touched her cheek and st
epped out of the bushes.

  The security guard had turned and walked away from Lex's position, back toward the buildings on this side of the river. The man stopped near the small bridge.

  Hopefully, he would take the bridge to check the facilities on the other side of the river. That would give them an opportunity to slip by.

  Lex turned and scanned the road where the FBI thug had gone.

  No signs of him, yet. But with only the light of stars, bright as they were under Central Oregon skies, Lex could see less than a hundred yards.

  He turned back to the security guard who had been clearly visible in the light around the buildings.

  The guard had vanished.

  Not good.

  Lex crept out into the road far enough to circle the tree near the entrance to the bridge.

  The guard wasn't on the road and he wasn't on the bridge.

  A telltale tingling ran up the back of Lex’s neck.

  “Hands on your head and don't move.”

  The guard must've played ring-around-the-tree and gotten behind Lex.

  He placed his hands on his head and turned slowly toward the guard.

  “I said don't move.”

  Lex stopped moving.

  What kind of story had the agent told this guy? Lex sought words that would answer his question. “Sir, do you know who I am?”

  “You are the guy who killed a U.S. Marshal and the young woman, your accomplice, is here somewhere too.”

  More lies from the FBI. “No, sir. The rogue FBI agent is the one who killed the marshal. I'm Lex James.”

  “What?”

  “Please keep your voice down, sir. That FBI agent might decide to kill us all.”

  “But there was a whole team of FBI agents looking for you—uh, for the killer and the woman. They even had a chopper?”

  “I take it you've heard of me, sir. I investigate government corruption and report on it in The American Motto. This is one of the worst cases I've come across. If this team as you call them, kills Gemma and me, they'll get off scot free and the whole nation will suffer.”

  Silence.

  Lex waited. The guard probably knew Lex’s reputation, but did this man believe him?

  “You got any ID?”

  “Yes.”

  “Step over behind the tree and you can show it to me.”

  Lex hesitated. He couldn’t risk being spotted by the agent.