Lethal Redemption

by April Hunt

  Grace prayed he listened, but she saw deep in his eyes, he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. It was the reason she’d stayed in the Order as long as she had. No one wanted to think bad of someone they cared about. And despite not wanting to admit it, she had cared about her mother and the people of Sanctuary in some way. They’d given her the only life she’d known up until returning to DC.

  The vice president turned to Director Vance. “Are you charging my daughter with anything, Director?”

  Vance’s shoulders lifted with her silent sigh. “No, sir. Not at this time.”

  “Then I’m taking Sarah, and I’m leaving.”

  “Sir, I strongly encourage you to listen to Special Agent Steele. If she believes that your daughter would benefit from time in a facility designated for this specific issue, then I think you should consider it.”

  Brandt spun around, red-faced and livid. “She’s not some lab rat! She’s my daughter—who my wife and I have spent a lifetime raising and supporting! I will not have anyone talking about her as if she’s damaged goods.”

  Grace cleared her throat. “The most supportive thing you could do right now for Sarah is take her to Arizona.”

  “Your job is officially done, Special Agent Steele. Thank you, but goodbye.” The vice president stalked out, his security detail with him.

  “Corelli.”

  Jake Corelli lagged behind. He sighed as if knowing what she was about to say. “I’ll try to get through to him, Grace, but he’s pretty set in his ways. You know I can’t make any promises.”

  “In the meantime, you need to keep an eye on her. Right now Sarah has zero emotional attachment to the vice president. There’s no telling what she’d do to get back to the people she considers her real family.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting that. I’ll up her detail. She won’t be able to take a piss without us knowing.”

  Grace waited until Corelli left before turning to Vance. “Please tell me that we’re not letting this go, ma’am.”

  “I don’t want to. You know I don’t, but without concrete—or at least highly motivational—evidence that what you saw is indeed a hit list, I’m not so sure I can authorize—”

  Liam strutted into the room looking like the Cheshire cat.

  “It’s highly motivational evidence that you want, Director? How would this suffice?” He tossed a file onto the table in front of them, and everyone automatically drifted closer. “Let me give you the highlight reel. Our three marked men all served in different branches of the military—and all three have been found dead within the last four months.”

  Grace picked up one of the backgrounds on the victims. “Sometimes I hate being right.”

  “And that’s not all. According to their records, they’ve never served together. Never been stationed even remotely near the same bases. Hell, the same countries. The only thing they do have in common is that their service records mysteriously end about twenty years ago.”

  That piqued Director Vance’s interest. “What do you mean ‘end’? They were discharged?”

  “I mean the paper trail stops cold. No duty stations. No promotions. No demotions. And no official discharge from the service. That means these guys had either worked as a magician’s disappearing sidekicks, or—”

  “They worked black ops,” Roman spoke up. “And depending on where they worked and who they worked alongside, you can’t—and won’t—find a paper trail because there isn’t one. They don’t keep them for a reason.”

  Vance pulled her attention away from the files. “Okay. I agree, this definitely sounds ominous, but that doesn’t mean that these men were—”

  Liam cut off the director. “Actually, if you hold that thought for one more minute.” He dropped in front of his computer, and all the information spread out on the table now appeared on the oversize wall monitor. “Target one: Christian Gains. Former Navy SEAL. Died in an apartment building fire three months ago.”

  “Unfortunate, but not exactly nefarious.”

  Grace immediately saw what Liam did. “The blueprints we found in that basement were for that building complex. I recognize the builder’s logo.”

  “Bingo,” Liam verified. “And the fire was recently ruled an arson. The investigative report also confirms that both fire exits on Gains’s floor appeared to have been sealed shut. There was no way he was getting out of there unless he went free-diving from his bedroom window.”

  Cade cursed. “Gains couldn’t have been the only person on that entire floor.”

  “He wasn’t. The same fire claimed the life of an elderly couple and a twenty-two-year-old bartender.”

  A wave of nausea rolled through Grace. “Rossbach doesn’t care who gets hurts in the process of him finding his New Dawn, and his Elite Guards don’t either. They only care about their final target. What about the other two men?”

  “Matt Striker. Hit and run. And the most recent, Doug Unger, was shot in a supposed robbery gone wrong. All different. All fishy. And all way too damn convenient if you ask me.”

  Director Vance studied Liam’s findings with a critical eye and finally nodded. “What does Hogan Wilcox have to do with these men? And who is the mystery man in the sixth picture?”

  “That we’re still trying to figure out.” Liam slid an apologetic look toward Cade. “We got half a forest ranger division tracking Wilcox down, but it turns out ice fishing doesn’t really happen in well-populated areas. At least not the General’s favorite spots. Once we locate him, we’re hoping he’ll shed some light on this.”

  “And if we’re right about this, the General’s life is at risk too.” The director sighed and pinned Grace with a hard stare. “I want you to take a team back up that mountain. Bring Rossbach in for questioning, and hopefully by the time that happens, we’ll have more answers.”

  “You want me to take lead of a team?” Grace tried—and failed—to hide her surprise. “I’ve never done that before, ma’am. I—”

  “Just managed to pull off a great undercover assignment, kidnap the daughter of a political figure, and get us intelligence that could help out wipe out a national threat. Something tells me that you’ll be just fine running your own team.”

  “That wasn’t all on me, ma’am. All of that happened because of my cousins…and Cade.”

  “The fact that you don’t want to take credit for it, Special Agent Steele, tells me that my original assessment is spot-on—and that we need to have a talk about your future at the Bureau.”

  If it weren’t for the director’s pleased smile, Grace would have thought she’d bought herself another stint on her boss’s shit list. She accepted the compliment as the high praise it was meant to be. “If I’m taking a team up, can I request to have Steele Ops as a backup?”

  “You sure as hell can. I’ll have an operations team assembled within the hour.” Director Vance drilled Grace with her no-nonsense, determined stare. “I don’t have to tell you how much I want Rossbach brought in, do I?”

  “No, ma’am, you don’t.”

  No one wanted a pair of handcuffs on Rossbach more than Grace—and she’d bring a few extras in case her mother felt left out.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Six

  Grace soaked in the loud family chaos surrounding her and tried living in the moment instead of replaying the events of that morning’s operation. Sanctuary had been deserted when she’d gotten there with the FBI–Steele Ops teams, and judging by the abandoned food left sitting out and the fire roaring in the ovens, it had been a quick evacuation.

  They’d known they were coming.

  Strike that.

  Her mother had known she was coming—and she’d even left behind a personally addressed note in the cabin that she and Rossbach had shared.

  YOU are my Obstacle, Grace Ann. You shattered my New Dawn first with your birth, and then again with your Return. I cannot allow that to happen again.

  Beautifully maternal and such a crock of poo. Still, the sliver of paper practically burned a ho
le in her jeans pocket, but not because she believed the words.

  That quaint little love note penned by her mother put her life into perspective and made Grace realize—more than she ever had before—that family really was who you wanted them to be. And she couldn’t have picked a better group of people.

  Zoey and Cade battled it out over a game of foosball, their shouts and back-and-forth smack talk fueling the cheers and jeers of their audience. Liam walked the room and collected what looked to be monetary bets, and Tank and Jaz looked way too eager to spill each other’s blood during the next round.

  After the disappointing raid on Sanctuary, it seemed only natural for them all to end up back at Aunt Cindy’s place. It was comfortable. It was familiar. It was home. Cade and Zoey’s mom had hustled over, steaming trays of meatballs in hand, and the food and drink hadn’t stopped since.

  This was the family she’d always been meant to have.

  Loud. Supportive. And above all else…accepting.

  “Your plate looks suspiciously empty there, sweetheart.” Aunt Cindy set a serving dish full of cannoli onto the table. “Grab some of these babies, and I’ll block the hungry horde with my Mom glare.”

  Grace laughed, pulling her aunt into a hug. “Let the hungry horde have their dessert, Aunt C. I’ll bust out of these pants if I eat one more bite.”

  “As if. You’ve lost way too much weight since the last time I saw you.”

  “You mean the other week?”

  Aunt Cindy frowned, hitting her with that Mom glare she’d mentioned. “You know damn well that’s not what I was referring to. I get that you’re not Betty Crocker, but they do have takeout in New York City from what I hear.”

  “They have takeout everything in New York—and delivery—at all hours of the day and night. It’s amazing.”

  “Then you have absolutely no excuse not to do a better job at taking care of yourself.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.” Her agreement took the bluster out of her aunt’s sails.

  Cindy scanned the room and shook her head at her sons’ antics.

  Grace hadn’t known what to expect of her father’s family when Rhett dropped her off on their doorstep seventeen years ago. They’d been loud and brash, privacy as foreign a concept as was the common decency of leaving the room to drop a gas bomb.

  And she thanked God for every second of it.

  Slipping in behind Aunt Cindy, she wrapped her arms around the woman who might not have given birth to her in the biological sense, but who birthed her all the same—the real her. “I love you. I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I’m incredibly lucky to have you in my life, Aunt Cindy.”

  “Oh, honey.” She turned and trapped Grace’s face between her palms before kissing her forehead. “I love you too. And you don’t need to say it, sweetheart. I know.”

  “Yes, I do. And I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

  “You’re home now.” Cindy wiped away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed. “And you know me, I don’t like to pry in my children’s lives, but…”

  Grace laughed: One, because she loved hearing her aunt lump her in with her cousins. And two, because it was what the older woman always said seconds before she pried. “And what kind of non-prying questions are floating around in your head right now?”

  Cindy’s gaze slid to the foosball game where Cade graciously admitted defeat to his sister. “A woman can’t help but notice that things have seemed a little warmer between you two since you walked through the door.”

  “Maybe that’s because you keep the thermostat set on eighty-four,” Grace teased.

  “Oh, hush now.”

  Grace’s gaze strayed to where Cade armed Tank with a few strategic pointers on the fine art of Steele basement foosball. “You’re right. Things are definitely warmer. I just don’t think I should be talking about it with you before I’ve had a chance to talk about it with him. But you can get that look out of your eye right now.”

  “What look? I don’t have a look.”

  Grace smirked at her aunt’s faux innocence. “You most definitely do, and it says that you’re already planning to buy out an entire department store of all their baby clothes. Trust me when I say that babies are not happening any time in the near future unless they come from Knox and Zoey. I’ve killed three houseplants in the last six months. I can’t be trusted with another living person. At least not for a good long while.”

  “Maybe it’s me, but it’s probably not good form for an FBI agent to admit to committing murder.” Cade’s voice swiveled both Grace’s and Cindy’s heads.

  He reached past them and grabbed a cannoli, kissing Cindy on the side of the head. “Please tell me you have more of these.”

  “There’s some upstairs already on a plate with your name on it.”

  “And did you hide it in our new spot? Because I’m pretty sure Liam sniffed out the old one.”

  Grace’s lips twitched as she soaked in the play between the two of them. “You conned my impressionable aunt into cannoli smuggling?”

  “I did nothing of the sort. It was her idea. I just went along with it.”

  Aunt Cindy flashed Grace a wink and left them alone—at least as alone as they could be.

  “You looked awfully serious over here a minute ago.” Cade popped another cannoli into his mouth and watched her carefully.

  “You were busy getting your ass kicked by your baby sister. How did you even notice?”

  “You were watching me?” Cade’s mouth kicked up into a naughty grin as he stalked closer.

  “How could I not? You were bent over the table. The view was too good not to ogle.” Grace held her spot until the toes of his boots bumped against hers.

  As his hands settled on her hips, her body automatically swayed toward his. Surrounded by their families wasn’t exactly the time to have the long overdue heart-to-heart, but she couldn’t help needing to feel him.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Just thinking about kissing him made her lips tingle.

  “Careful, sweetheart. You keep looking at me like that, and everyone in this room’s going to get a show,” Cade growled, his chest rumbling.

  “I’m not so sure I’d be against that,” Grace admitted cautiously.

  “Really?”

  She chuckled nervously and ignored her increasingly sweaty palms. “I wasn’t talking about giving them a floor show. I meant I wouldn’t be against them knowing…about us.”

  Grace’s heart pounded in her ears. She wouldn’t be able to hear Cade’s response even if he’d spoken. The way he looked at her, his blue eyes lasered in on hers, stirred something deep inside her.

  Hope.

  Need.

  And an overwhelming desire to start her life over—with him.

  “You want there to be an us?” Cade brushed his knuckles over her cheek, the soft touch pulling a sigh from her throat. “An us in the future?”

  “More than anything.” She opened her mouth to admit for the first time in nine years that she loved him—that she was in love with him and she’d never stopped. Not even for a second. But the Who’s the Boss theme song rang from her back pocket.

  Across the room, Liam and Knox laughed. “Think your ass is ringing, Grace.”

  She knew it was, and she’d never been so tempted to ignore Director Vance’s phone call. “I have to…”

  “Get it. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She really hoped he meant that.

  “Director,” Grace answered the phone. “We haven’t found Wilcox yet, but we’re close to—”

  “You’re done out there in DC,” Vance replied succinctly. “I’m officially opening an investigation to look into Teague Rossbach, Rebecca Steele, and all of the OND, and I want you on it. Your flight back to New York’s scheduled for two p.m. tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? Can’t I work from here?”

  “If I wanted you to work from there I would’ve made that a viable option, Specia
l Agent Steele. No, the people I want on the team are based there and that’s where you’ll be. I’ll meet you in the New York satellite office by late afternoon. Tomorrow. Or you can forget about that promotional opportunity I was going to speak with you about.”

  “A promotion?”

  The director hung up, not giving Grace a chance to react much less counteroffer or ask questions. By the time she slipped her phone back into her pants, whatever breaking revelations she and Cade had been about to divulge disappeared.

  “I…” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I have to go back to New York.”

  “Tomorrow. I heard.” His face was devoid of any emotion…except the slight flicker of anticipation—and something else. “And it sounds like a congratulations are in order too.”

  A promotion.

  A few months ago that news would have come with music and joy-dancing in her underwear. Instead, a hefty elephant sat on her chest…and he brought along his entire herd.

  * * *

  What goes around comes around.

  That’s all Cade could think about as he waited for Grace to say something—anything. It almost felt like time had rewound nine years and swapped their bodies for good measure. Nine years ago, he’d been the one to choose career over them, and now she had the opportunity to do the same thing.

  And he could see in her eyes that that was exactly what she was about to do.

  Cade stepped back, and when Grace reached for his hand, he pulled away. It was a dick move, but he couldn’t touch her and then watch her walk away.

  Her hopeful expression fell. “My job’s in New York, Cade. I have to go.”

  “You’re right. It is. And not to mention that you’ve got a shiny new promotion lighting your way back.”

  “That’s it?” She paused a beat. “That’s all you’re going to say about it?”

  Her dark eyes filled with something akin to pain, but all Cade could feel was the ice pick stabbing through his chest. Fuck, it hurt to breathe. “What do you want me to say? That I don’t want you to leave DC?”

  “That would be kind of great, yeah.” Grace’s raised voice earned them more than a few glances from their families. The room got noticeably quiet, but it was too late for discretion. “Or maybe that we can figure something out…put our frequent flier miles back to good use.”