Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4)

by Adrienne Giordano

  “And then what? You jumped on a plane?”

  “Yes, Special Agent, I grabbed a commuter flight.” Fallyn waved one hand. “You can check that as well.”

  “I will do that.”

  Bronco jotted a note and something in the way he moved, the four-second pause in the middle of it, sent Tony’s shit-meter buzzing. He glanced at an unruffled Fallyn as she checked her nails, feigning—or maybe not—boredom. He went back to Bronco who watched her, his lips tight and…nope…not doing this.

  Tony stood. Fallyn tipped her head back. “What’s up?”

  “In a second, it’ll be you.” He jerked his head to the door. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

  “I’m not through,” Bronco said.

  Yeah, you are. Tony met Fallyn’s gaze, held her stare.

  Come on, sweetheart, work with me.

  Something in this situation wasn’t right. Whether the feds really suspected she had something to do with her sister’s death or not, he didn’t like this setup. Crazier shit than accusing a high-profile media whiz of killing her senator sister had happened in DC and Tony wasn’t gonna let her hang herself by talking too much. Any other time, she’d probably have marched out already. Now? The big, bad spin-doctor was under a tremendous amount of emotional stress and she might not be tracking right.

  Fallyn set her hands on the edge of the table and slowly pushed her chair back. “Sorry, Agent Bronco, I have things to tend to. If you have any further questions, we’ll set up another time. Preferably with all involved law enforcement agencies.”

  Bronco didn’t appreciate it. Not one bit, but he didn’t make a fuss either. Unless he planned on arresting her, she was free to go wherever she’d like. In the hallway, Fallyn turned to Tony but he latched onto her elbow, ushered her toward the exit.

  “Outside,” he said. “Then we’ll talk.”

  Shoving open the lobby door, he held it for Fallyn, then headed straight for his SUV, his steps devouring the pavement.

  “Hey, big guy,” Fallyn said, “what’s going on?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.”

  Tony dug his phone from his suit jacket, punched up Grey’s number.

  “Justice.”

  “It’s Gerard.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just came from the J. Edgar Hoover Building. Loads of fun.”

  Silence. And how often did that happen with Justice Greystone? Something told him not a lot.

  “Why?” Grey wanted to know.

  “Fallyn got a call from Agent Allan Bronco. You know him?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Well, he’s got a monster bug up his ass. He hauled Fallyn in, wanting to know where she was the day Heather died.” Tony stopped at the corner, grabbing Fallyn’s arm before she high-tailed it into traffic. “Is she a suspect now or what? Because, gotta tell ya, I didn’t like his tone. That fucker needs to stand down.”

  “Relax,” Grey said.

  As if that would even be possible? Considering he was on limited sleep, life as he’d known it had blown apart in the last month, and now he had a hot woman, a goddamned political spin doctor—kill me, please—he wanted to nail every time he looked at her.

  Sure. Right. Relax.

  The light changed and Tony stepped off the curb, bringing Fallyn with him. “All I’m saying is that guy isn’t right. Give me ten minutes and I’ll call you back from a secure line.”

  “Why?”

  “Because our girl Fallyn, in addition to meeting with an asshole special agent, had an interesting visit this afternoon. From the president.”

  “Shit,” Grey said.

  “Bingo, brother. I’ll holler back at you. But buckle up.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The Feds think I killed my sister.” Fallyn couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The very idea made her sick to her stomach. “They think I fucking killed my twin.”

  “No they don’t,” Tony said. He’d just disconnected from a second phone call with Justice Greystone as they headed for Heather’s townhouse. “That lobotomized fuckwit, Bronco, is fishing. Grey says this is Bronco’s first investigation since a promotion landed him here in DC. He’s out to make a name for himself.”

  Grey’s fiancée, Sydney Banfield, was meeting them at the townhouse to pick up Heather’s suits. Even with everything on her plate—Heather’s murder, the president’s threats, and now Special Agent Bronco’s horrible insinuation—Fallyn had to take care of her sister’s belongings. A part of her didn’t want to give Heather’s clothes away. It seemed so…final. She wished she could preserve Heather’s home just the way her sister had left it.

  But that wouldn’t bring Heather back. Those suits, hanging unworn in her closet, could do some good for another woman down on her luck. Heather would have loved that.

  No, Fallyn didn’t have time to worry about suits. Yes, Jordan could have taken care of it. Yet, donating those suits to Sydney’s shelter might help someone else, and although it was a small thing, it gave Fallyn something to focus on. Something good that could come from this tragedy.

  She leaned her head back against the headrest and felt the anger at Bronco lessen slightly. Her pulse was elevated, her heart pounding. It had been one hell of a day so far, but she was up for it. Working the case was better than sitting in Heather’s townhouse crying her eyes out, or worrying about the president’s threats. “Anything back from Grey’s lab on the vitamins and supplements?”

  Tony pulled up to the townhouse. “They’ve analyzed about half of them. So far, everything is copacetic.”

  “And Teeg? Has he decoded anything else on Heather’s tablet?”

  “Not yet. There’s one section that none of the codes you gave him have worked on. He’s trying some different approaches.”

  Fallyn exited the car and headed for the steps. Anxiety pounded through her limbs. She needed to go for a run. Or maybe tackle Tony for a different kind of workout. “Ms. Banfield should be here any minute,” she said as she unlocked the front door. “I’ll grab the suits and bring them down.”

  Tony’s cell phone was ringing again. “Wait,” he said, following her inside as he answered the phone. “I need to check the place first.”

  Fallyn dumped her purse on the kitchen table, only half listening as Tony spoke to one of his sisters. The frustration in his voice let her know it was about his mother’s birthday party again.

  She smiled as she ignored his missive to wait and headed up the stairs. The sooner she got the suits to Sydney, the better. Then she could burn off some of this energy and think straight again. She wasn’t going to quit digging, but how was she going to protect her father if the president decided to make good on his threats? And now, with the FBI looking into her, they could make her life hell. If they started digging into her clientele, asking them questions, annoying her employees, she was going to have to go into gladiator mode. The president and the FBI could ruin her business and her reputation in the blink of an eye.

  No way in hell was she going to let them.

  I will find out who did this to you, sis, and I will make them pay.

  She was halfway into Heather’s bedroom when she pulled up short. A man dressed all in black with a ski mask was coming out of Heather’s closet.

  Head down, he was putting a metal tool into a small black bag. He startled when he saw her.

  Was this the man who had attacked her the other night? The man after the tablet?

  Was this her sister’s killer?

  Fallyn opened her mouth and screamed, “Tony!” at the top of her lungs. She sneered at the man, anger pumping through her system like a steam engine as she bared her fingernails and lunged. “You son of a bitch!”

  The window over the fire escape was open. As Fallyn went to rake her nails down his eyes, he smacked her in the shoulder with the tool, knocking her sideways. She fell, her upper body slamming into the end of the bed. The guy raised the tool again to bring i
t down on her head, but the sound of Tony’s footsteps running up the stairs stopped him.

  “Fallyn!” Tony yelled, his voice echoing into the bedroom.

  The guy looked over his shoulder toward the door and Fallyn kicked out, slamming her heel into the guy’s shin. He yelped and hobbled to the open window, half falling onto the fire escape.

  She bolted up and lunged once more, grabbing onto his ankle. But her fingers slipped off his booted foot when he yanked himself the rest of the way through the window.

  Tony burst into the room, saw her on the floor. “What the hell happened?”

  Fallyn pointed at the open window. The guy had already disappeared from sight. “A man was in Heather’s closet. He went down the fire escape.”

  Tony crossed the room to the window. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Go after him.”

  He did as instructed and Fallyn pushed herself off the floor, watching out the window as Tony hauled ass down the fire escape, skipping huge sections of metal steps in an attempt to catch the man in black.

  At the end of the alley he looked both ways. The man had disappeared. Fallyn watched as he went out into the street and then she lost sight of him.

  When he returned, she met him at the front door.

  “Bastard got away.” His face was drawn, his voice filled with cold rage. He touched her cheek, then held her by the shoulders. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  She forced herself not to flinch at the soreness in her shoulder where his fingers dug in. The same cold rage burned in her veins. “Whoever that is, he’s got some balls. If I’d had my gun, I would have shot his ass.”

  This drew a brow quirk from Tony. “You have a gun?”

  “In my handbag.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  From the light in his eyes, she could see that turned him on. Weirdo. “Our intruder opened the safe.”

  “What?” Both of Tony’s eyebrows went up this time. He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “How?”

  “He was a professional. It took me a minute to recognize the tool he was carrying.” She rubbed her shoulder where a bruise was forming. “It was a small type of drill that safe crackers use.”

  “What did he take?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled at Tony’s confusion. “I cleaned everything out the last time we were here.”

  “Damn, woman. Good job. Did you get a look at his face?”

  “He was wearing a ski mask.”

  “Hmm.”

  At that moment, the doorbell went off. Tony checked the peephole. “It’s Syd.”

  He opened the door, grabbed the pretty brunette on the doorstep by the arm, and ushered her inside before slamming the door shut again.

  “Good to see you, too, Tony.” Sydney Banfield said with a chuckle. “No need to be so hands-y, though.”

  Thank you, Fallyn thought, instantly liking her.

  “Sorry,” Tony said. “Security protocol. We just had an intruder, and I think there may be someone, or someones, casing the place.”

  “Sounds like you’re in a pickle. Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah. We’re good.”

  Sydney turned to Fallyn and extended her hand. “Sydney Banfield. I run Fresh Start and Grey told me about your circumstances. I’m sorry about your sister. I appreciate you donating her suits to the shelter. Obviously this isn’t a great time. I’m so sorry.”

  “These days, there’s never a good time.” Fallyn shook her hand. So this was the woman who had Justice Greystone wrapped around her pinky. “Heather was a strong women’s advocate. She would be happy that her clothes could benefit your shelter.”

  Sydney smiled. “We run on a shoestring budget. Any donation is appreciated.”

  “After I clear things with my dad and find out what was in Heather’s will, I may have more stuff that you’re welcome too. Furniture, dishes, a bed.”

  Tony wandered off to the kitchen, punching buttons on his phone. Syd watched him go, then smiled again at Fallyn. “All of those things would be nice, but what I’d really like is some of your time, Ms. Pasche.”

  “Please call me Fallyn. My time?”

  “You’re a role model for women, as was your sister. A woman with a great deal of resources, power, and determination. You started your own business and turned it into a political and social machine. A game changer in this male-dominated world. I’d love to have you come and speak at our next career day. The women don’t need a rah-rah speech, but they could use some real insight into building a successful career. Maybe you’d even consider looking at a few resumes, show them how to spin their skills into marketable assets.”

  Compliments followed by a call to action. Behind Syd’s words, her meaning came through loud and clear: with great power comes great responsibility.

  Fallyn had only just met the woman and already she was ready to sign on the dotted line. “I don’t know how much of an inspiration I can be but I’m certainly willing to help the women fine-tune their resumes. When is this career day?”

  “Monday from 1 to 8 p.m.”

  She had no plans to be in DC on Monday, but at this rate, it wasn’t out of the question. She had to get to the bottom of Heather’s death and wrap up things with the townhouse and possessions.

  And then there was Tony.

  She wanted to see him after this was over, but a future with him seemed like a pointless exercise. She lived in New York City. He lived here. While some of her clients were located here, and she routinely traveled to DC, they would still have a long distance relationship, and she didn’t have time for that.

  Maybe he wasn’t interested in a relationship, anyway. She could swing by when she was in town and they could hook up, blow off some steam, and then she’d be on her merry way again.

  “I’m not sure what my calendar looks like for Monday,” Fallyn said, “but I would like to come by the shelter at some point and see your work there. Maybe I can chat with a few of the residents.”

  “How ’bout now?” Tony stood framed in the doorway. “Except you won’t be chatting with the residents.”

  Fallyn and Syd both turned to look at him. “What are you talking about?” Fallyn asked.

  “Syd, I have a big favor to ask.”

  “Okay.” She eyed him cautiously. “You’re part of the Justice Team family, now, Tony. What do you need?”

  “A safe house.”

  “A safe house?” both Fallyn and Syd said in unison.

  “Yeah.” He pocketed his phone. “In the past few hours, the president of the United States showed up unexpectedly at Fallyn’s hotel and threatened her, an FBI agent subtly accused her of murdering her sister, and an intruder was in this townhouse for the second time in the past few days. Someone is tracking your movements, Fallyn, and if Heather was murdered, which we’re assuming she was, you could be in serious danger.”

  “Oh, boy,” Syd said. “Sounds like a safe house is a good idea.”

  “I don’t know.” Fallyn shook her head. She wasn’t worried her life was in danger, and she didn’t like the idea of letting the president or anyone else know she was scared of them. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”

  Tony nodded. “I was just on the phone with Grey and he agrees we need to put you somewhere off the grid. Except the Justice Team doesn’t have a safe house.”

  Syd shifted her weight, her right hip jutting out. “And you want to use my shelter?”

  “Grey says there’s a mother-in-law’s suite over the garage out back that’s empty.”

  Syd gave him a look that said he was crazy. “You want to hide Fallyn out there?”

  “You hide women in there all the time, Sydney.”

  “And just how do you know…?” She caught herself and let out a sigh. “Grey told you. Of course. That information does not leave this room, you two.”

  Fallyn and Tony both made agreement nods, but Fallyn spoke up. “I don’t want to impose on Sydney. We’ll find somewhere else.”

 
“The suite is not currently in use,” Syd said, “but what kind of assurance do I have that hiding Fallyn there won’t bring danger to my residents?”

  “That’s my job,” Tony said. “She won’t have interaction with anyone. We’ll keep our comings and goings completely secret. You won’t even know we’re there. Plus, I’m gonna get some friends to help keep an eye on the place. Couple guys owe me a favor.”

  Syd tapped a foot and threw a thumb over her shoulder, pointing at the door. “How will you get her there without your watcher knowing?”

  Tony gave Fallyn a devilish grin. “I got that covered.”

  Fallyn’s ovaries did a cheer at that grin. Man, how she loved to see him smile like that, all full of himself. When he let that confidence loose—those rare times—she found it disarming and a total turn-on. “I’m not going to like this, am I?” she asked.

  His smile widened but he didn’t say a word.

  Yep, definitely not going to like this.

  Seeing that smile, though, was totally worth whatever was about to happen. “I’m in,” she said, smiling back. “Let’s do this.”

  * * *

  “Here we go,” Tony said shoving the dining room table off the Oriental rug.

  Fallyn looked at him, perfect eyebrows drawn. “Here we go what? Be careful. My sister bought that rug overseas at a bazaar last year. She loves—loved—it.”

  He pointed at the rug. “Your chariot awaits.”

  Her gazed snapped to the rug and back. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’re gonna roll you up in it.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Probably. But if you want to get out of here with no one seeing, this is your chance. We roll you in the rug, I carry the rug out with the clothes and put everything in the van at the curb and it looks like what it is. That you’re donating your sister’s things. I’ll come back inside, put on a few lights and the television, lock up and leave. If anyone is watching they’ll think you’re inside. By the time they figure out you’re not—”