“I’m sorry, I need to take this,” she said, heading out of the room. She couldn’t take the call inside Fresh Start. Too many ears possibly overhearing the conversation. “Jordan, I’ll come back in a few minutes and help with the kitchen duty.”
Jordan waved her off as she started helping Anita take down the tables.
In the front hallway, Tony’s friend Matt, her bodyguard, abandoned his post and followed her to the back door. Fallyn answered the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”
The connection was terrible. Static filled her ear. “Miss Pasche?”
Placing a hand over her ear, she headed through the night toward the loft. “Yes, this is Fallyn Pasche. Thank you for returning my call, Mr. Fox.”
“I don’t know…” Static. The man’s voice sounded far away, like he was in a tunnel. “…can’t help you.”
Why was the connection so bad?
Fallyn took the stairs from the garage up to the apartment. Behind her, Matt stayed put at the base of the stairwell.
“Mr. Fox, I understand where you’re coming from. Please, I need to speak to you in person. My sister told me some things I need verified.”
Silence met her ears. Complete silence. Not even a hint of static. Fallyn banged the phone into her palm out of frustration. The screen said they’d been disconnected. Had he hung up or had the connection simply been too weak?
Letting herself into the apartment, she flipped on a light and hit redial. The phone on the other end rang three times and went to voicemail.
Dammit. She had to talk to this guy. She dialed again. Voicemail. One more try.
Come on, come on.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
Fallyn whirled. “Jeez, Jordan. You’re always sneaking up on me. I thought you were working on the tables.”
Jordan moseyed through the door and closed it behind her. Her gaze swept around the room to the sofa and then to the small kitchen off to the side. She sunk her hands into the pockets of her trench coat. “When’s Mr. Gerard coming back? Although, his friend Matt is kinda cute. I passed him at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Tony? I’m not sure. Why?”
She shrugged one shoulder and ran a hand over the back of a chair as she walked around, continuing to eye the place. “He seems very protective of you.”
“That’s sort of his job right now.”
“Right. After the break-ins and the car accident.”
She’d made it to the kitchen doorway and was leaning into the kitchen so far, Fallyn finally asked. “Would you like a drink or something? There’s tea.”
“No, I have to get back soon.” Jordan swung out of the doorway and smiled. “Dad’s expecting me tonight. We have our standard Monday night game of chess, you know.”
Fallyn didn’t know, but it sounded nice. She’d never shared anything more with her father than conversation over a plate of meatballs.
But that was okay. So they’d never played chess or went to a play together like Carl and Jordan were always doing. Her dad had taught her how to make a mean primavera and run her own business. Food service wasn’t all that different from being a fixer. You found out what people wanted and gave it to them.
“Why don’t you head out, then, and enjoy your evening with Carl?” Fallyn said. “I can handle the rest of the cleanup with Anita.”
Jordan sat in the chair and crossed her legs. “Have the cops figured out how that drug ended up in Heather’s system? I know Daddy will ask me tonight.”
For someone who said she had to leave, Jordan seemed to want to talk instead. Fallyn sunk onto the sofa and rubbed her temples where tension thrummed. “Nothing that I know of. I think we may have a lead from an independent lab we sent the supplements to, but I haven’t seen the results of the tests yet.”
“Is that so?” Jordan huffed out a sigh. “What a shame about all of this.”
It was a shame. Heather had been trying to do the right thing and had been caught in the crossfire. If only I’d known sooner that she needed help. I could have fixed this. Protected her and Ryan. “Did you know Heather was seeing someone?”
“No way.” Jordan chuckled. “Are you serious?”
Fallyn nodded, but it didn’t seem like Jordan was all that surprised. She was studying the window across the room. “It’s okay if you knew. Heather told you lots of things she never shared with me.”
“Honestly, I sort of did.” Jordan met her gaze head-on. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know for sure that it was anything series, and I had no idea who it was, so I kept it to myself. Don’t hate me?”
Actually it was kind of a relief that Heather hadn’t confessed her relationship to Jordan. “Of course not.”
Jordan waggled her brows. “Who was it? Was he hot?”
They shared a laugh. Like old times. Before jealousy had crawled under Fallyn’s skin. “He’s very attractive, yes. And powerful. At least his dad is.”
“Good for her. I’m glad she had someone, you know…before the end.”
Maybe it was time to put all that old jealousy to rest. “Me too. I just can’t help feeling that this is all tied together. I have a source”—she held up her phone—“whom I believe knows exactly what happened, but I can’t pin him down.”
“A source?”
“Sounds like his boss was doing unscrupulous things to get his hands on information Heather had secured during an investigation. He might have even been bribing or blackmailing someone in your office. He’s reluctant to talk though. Can’t say I blame him.”
A subtle cloud passed over Jordan’s face. “Someone in our office? You’re kidding. Who?”
A fission of worry spider-walked across the nape of Fallyn’s neck. She’d shared more than she should have.
Setting the phone on the coffee table, she propped her feet up on it. “I don’t know yet, and you can’t say anything, Jordan. Not until I get this figured out and can take it to Feds or the Justice Department, okay?”
A heartbeat of silence passed. “What did you do with that tablet of Heather’s?”
“What?”
“The one you found in her safe.”
There was only one, wasn’t there? “What about it?”
“You said it had encoded files on it. Did you get them decoded?”
The fission of worry morphed into a warning. What was this?
Jordan must have seen the expression on Fallyn’s face. “Isn’t that why someone broke into the townhouse? That’s what you claimed they were after. I just wondered if you figured out why.”
“Of course. Right.” She had mentioned the encryption. But she’d already shared too much. “There was nothing but receipts and notes on a couple of subcommittee meetings.”
“Interesting.” Jordan slid out of the chair and walked to the window, looking out at the night sky. “Why would someone break into the townhouse for that?”
“I must have been wrong about its importance,” Fallyn lied.
Jordan turned from the window and gave Fallyn a knowing look. She scanned the room again, her gaze landing on Fallyn’s purse hanging on a hook by the door. “But you have the tablet, right?”
Her attention came back to Fallyn, a malicious gleam in her eyes.
Demanding. Challenging.
Fallyn felt her insides grow cold. The headache’s thrum in her temples pulsed harder.
Her voice sounded strange, even to her own ears. “Why do you care about that tablet?”
Jordan smiled. Easy, breezy, as if Fallyn was being difficult. “Because it’s worth five million dollars, Fal.”
“Five million—” Fallyn’s phone buzzed from the coffee table, interrupting her. Tony.
She started to reach for it, found herself staring at the hollow end of a very black handgun.
“Uhn, uhn, uhn,” Jordan said. “Don’t touch that phone. Tony can’t help you now.”
Her hand hovered above the phone, pulse ticking wildly as unde
rstanding dawned. Jordan was the insider. She was the one who wanted the tablet. “You.”
“Yep, me.” The grin that lit her face was nervous. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, I swear, but you were so damn nosy. If you’d just stayed out of it, I’d have gotten that tablet and been out of your hair.”
Betrayal swarmed her like a nest of angry bees. Stupid, Fallyn. “I never did like you.”
“I know. I never liked you either.”
Would Jordan really shoot her?
Did it matter?
She had maybe one chance to get this right. If she could get to her purse…
Why hadn’t she snagged that damn gun from her purse like she’d told Tony she would do after he left? Fallyn raised her hands in a show of surrender. “I don’t have the tablet.”
Jordan cocked the gun, the awful sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room. “I don’t believe you.”
Fallyn rose to standing, making sure to move slowly. “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot. I’ll get it for you.”
She started to step toward the purse on the hook.
“Stop!” Jordan moved around in front of her. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Shit. If Jordan dug in her purse, she’d find Fallyn’s weapon. Game over.
The woman grabbed the bag.
Panic clawed at her chest. “I lied,” Fallyn said, waving her hands. “I don’t have it. It’s not in there.”
Jordan dropped the purse on the coffee table. “Then you’re going to get it for me. I know it has information from Heather’s investigation. I have a buyer for that information and I’m on a deadline. If I don’t get the information, I may as well shoot myself because I’ll be as good as dead.”
“What does your buyer want with it?”
“To ruin the president before the next election. You and I both know who shot down that plane, don’t we? How do you think that will play out in the press? Across the globe? My guy exposes that and President Nicols and his baby boy are going down in a blaze of corruption and murder, that not even you, the great fixer, can spin into something noble.”
Like she would do that. “And in turn, your guy will be a hero to the American public.”
She winked. “You got it. He probably won’t even need to go on the campaign trail. He’ll be elected to president without so much as breaking a sweat.”
The purse. Get the purse. Fallyn dropped her raised arms. “Have you considered what the president might pay to keep that information under wraps? It’s priceless to him. You could make a lot more than five mil.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like Nicols.” She grinned as if this were a schoolyard game. “My guy is rich and famous. An actor who wants to run the world. I’m going to be by his side. I’m his fixer, Fallyn. Only I won’t waste my time with peons like you do. I’m going straight to the top.”
Jesus, the gall of this woman.
She had to get her gun and lure Jordan away from Fresh Start. She couldn’t endanger the women there. “I’ll take you to get the tablet. It’s not here. It’s at Tony’s workplace.”
Adrenaline firing her blood, she started to reach for her purse.
Jordan yanked it off the coffee table. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Fallyn’s phone buzzed again. She glanced down.
Tony.
He would freak if she wasn’t answering her phone. Knowing him, he was already flying through traffic to get back to her. If she kept Jordan talking, kept her distracted…
The muzzle of the gun was pointed at her face. Looking into it, Fallyn felt something inside her snap. If Jordan would point a gun at her, what else was she capable of?
“Were you the one who broke into the townhouse and attacked me?”
“Not me. A guy I hired. He’s a former spook. Got his ass booted for insubordination. He hires out.”
“He was the guy who trailed Grey and I too.”
“He’s been watching the townhouse for me. We planned to grab the tablet from the safe before you arrived, but he got arrested for DUI and had to spend the night in jail. By the time he was out, you were already here.”
Her voice came out low, rough. “Did you kill her?”
“I didn’t mean to.” Jordan’s face was rueful. “Honestly, I didn’t. I just wanted her out of my hair long enough to find that damn tablet. I thought if she had one of her heart episodes and ended up in the hospital, I’d have time to sneak into the townhouse and snag the tablet.”
“You knew about her heart condition?”
“She told me everything.” She gave another one-shoulder shrug. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I loved Heather. I didn’t want to hurt her.”
The words sunk in, slowly at first, then with the weight of an elephant. They suffocated her, making Fallyn’s chest seize. “You bitch. You goddamn, worthless piece of shit.”
She went over the coffee table, jumping Jordan and taking her to the floor. The gun went off, the sound exploding near Fallyn’s head as Jordan rolled her over. Plaster from the ceiling rained down on them, Fallyn grabbing for the gun.
Another roll and she regained the top position. Jordan swung the gun at her head and Fallyn blocked it. She felt the whiz of a second bullet speed past her head above her ear, raising her hair.
Jordan kneed her in the kidney, making her grunt. She knocked the woman’s wrist against the edge of the coffee table. The gun fell free.
Rage and panic warring inside her chest, Fallyn dove for it.
Jordan did the same, using their combined momentum to knock Fallyn off balance. Her chin narrowly missed the corner of the table, her hand tangling in the purse straps.
Jordan’s fingers brushed the gunstock and Fallyn kicked out, nailing her in the hip with the heel of her shoe. The woman flinched, and that was all Fallyn needed. Wrapping her hand in the purse straps, she hauled the hard-sided designer bag back and whacked Jordan upside the head.
Jordan’s head snapped back, an angry cry parting her lips. But before Fallyn could turn loose of the purse, she scrambled over onto her stomach and lunged for the gun.
Fallyn was half a second ahead of her, dropping her knees down on Jordan’s back and forcing the air from her lungs. Grabbing a chunk of Jordan’s hair, she yanked hard, jerking her head up and keeping her from reaching the weapon.
Jordan bucked under her, sending her sprawling forward, sailing over the gun and slamming into the sofa.
When Fallyn looked up, she was looking at the menacing end of that black barrel again.
Someone banged on the door. Matt. “Ms. Pasche! Open up.”
“Tell him you’re fine. Where’s the tablet?” Jordan’s chest heaved like she’d run a mile. Her makeup was smeared, her hair a tangled mess.
Fallyn swallowed hard. Stall her. Distract her. Do something! “It’s in the bedroom.”
A chin cock. “Get up. Show me. Tell him or you’re dead! Your father too.”
“Matt, I’m okay.”
“Yes,” Jordan called. “She’s fine. Now go away. Or she won’t be fine.”
To emphasize the point, Jordan blasted off another shot.
“All right,” Fallyn said. “Just, please. Stop shooting. Matt! Please, don’t come in here.”
Slowly, Fallyn dragged herself to her feet. Somehow her ankle had gotten twisted. When she put weight on it, a ragged, knifing pain shot into her foot and up her calf. She kicked off her shoes, willing her erratic heartbeat to slow.
Hobbling, she inched her way to the bedroom. No one will get here in time.
It was up to her. To save herself. To get justice for Heather.
Weapon. Her eyes scanned the bedroom as she led Jordan inside. What can I use for a weapon?
St. Agnes gazed down on her from above the bed. The bed where Tony had loved her back to life.
The end of the muzzle jabbed into her back. “Where is it?” Jordan demanded.
Fallyn pointed. “Nightstand.”
“Get it.”
The only things in the n
ightstand were her e-reader and a Bible. St. Agnes wasn’t going to be much help, but maybe King James could lend a hand.
From the drawer, Fallyn withdrew the e-reader with one hand, the Bible under it with the other. “Here,” she said, and tossed the hard, plastic tablet-sized e-reader in the air.
Instinct made Jordan reach for it just like Fallyn had hoped. She raised the Bible with both hands and swung.
The gun went off one more time, nailing poor St. Agnes. The picture fell from the wall as Jordan went down to one knee from the impact of the hardbound Bible. Fallyn lifted the heavy book again and hit her once more, Jordan’s head smacking into the spindle on the footboard. She fell to the floor, motionless, the gun dropping from her hand.
“Fallyn!”
Tony’s muffled voice cut through the roar between her ears, bringing her head up. For good measure, she grabbed the picture off the bed and whacked Jordan over the head with it, once, twice, three times. Glass sprayed, the picture ripped. Fallyn dropped the frame on Jordan’s back.
“Fallyn!”
He’s here.
She tried to answer him, found she had no voice. Her ankle burned as she made her way into the living room. Sirens came from far away.
Across the room, the doorknob twisted, jerked.
Tony screamed her name again. Fallyn tried to pick up speed, but her ankle, her whole leg, wouldn’t cooperate.
She felt lightheaded, her knees weak. The door seemed so far away and she had to grab onto the back of the chair for support.
Boom! The door burst open in a hail of splinters and metal. Tony raced into the room, gun drawn and Matt hot on his heels. Tony’s eyes took her in. “Jesus, God.”
Fallyn pushed upright, using the chair for balance. She tried to smile. “I’m okay.”
Something moved in her peripheral vision. Tony’s gaze snapped right and so did his gun. “No!” he yelled.
A gun went off. Then another.
White-hot pain exploded between her shoulder blades, the force arching her back. Her fingers lost their grip on the chair. She was falling, pitching forward…
But she wasn’t.
Tony caught her, one arm circling her waist and pulling her against him.
He fired again, bambambam, and Fallyn wanted to throw her hands up over her ears, but she couldn’t make them move. Tony screamed her name as he lowered her to the floor.
Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4) Page 24
