by Janie Crouch
His mother loved him, Roman knew. And she was stubborn. And she wanted to protect Roman’s father’s legacy and memory more than anything in the world.
But he was finished hearing her disparage Keira.
For good.
Roman pulled out his phone. His mother probably would not accept the words, but she would not be able to deny the images. The pictures Roman had found from Keira’s hospital stay six years ago. Not just one, but multiple hospital stays.
Keira had made him promise not to look into her ex-husband, and he’d kept that promise. But Roman had needed to know exactly what had been done to her.
“This is the reason Keira’s marriage with Jonathan Cunningham fell apart.” Roman flipped his phone around so that his mother was confronted with the image on the screen.
“And this is another reason.” He flipped to another picture. “And here’s another. I would say those were plenty of reasons to petition for divorce, wouldn’t you?”
Maureen blanched. “Jonathan Cunningham did that to her?”
“Yes, Mother. Look at Bridgette in there. She didn’t hold any ill will against Keira, because she knew what Jonathan did to her.”
Maureen’s eyes flew to the salon. “I had no idea.”
Bridgette walked out of the building. She gave a small wave to Maureen, but didn’t come over to talk, just walked to her car and left.
Roman watched her go. “I don’t know if Bridgette Cunningham knew about the abuse, but I know her husband did. He threatened Keira, Mom. Threatened to use the Cunningham name and power if she tried to press charges or to leave Jonathan.”
Maureen brought her hands up to her face. “Oh, my God.”
Roman knew he could probably stop there, but he had to make Maureen understand the full extent of it.
“Keira owns this salon free and clear, Mom. She doesn’t need me to support her financially. Keira isn’t after my money. Or my name. Or the clout it carries. The opposite, actually.”
“Roman...”
“If I didn’t have any money, if she didn’t see me as having political aspirations, it would probably be much easier to get her to agree to be in my life permanently.”
Roman shook his head, looking toward Fresh Starts. “She’s an amazing woman. Has a strength I don’t know that I’ll ever have. But that strength was bought at a price. And she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to permanently tie herself to someone else again.”
“How could anyone not want to tie themselves to you?” The disbelief was clear in his mother’s tone.
“She’s definitely not trying to trap me. That’s what I want you to understand. If anything, I’m trying to trap her. I want her and the baby in my life forever. And however long it takes for me to convince her of that, to convince her she means everything to me and that I’m never going to hurt her...” Roman shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to convince her, but I’ll spend my life trying.”
Maureen gave a shuddery sigh. “I had no idea you felt that way. That this relationship, even with the baby, was so important to you.” She wrung her hands. “I did a bad thing last week, Roman. I offered to give her money if she left.”
A muscle in Roman’s jaw twitched. “I figured it was something like that. But Mother, you’re going to have to accept that I choose Keira. And hopefully, she’ll choose me back.”
Maureen took a step closer, her arm reaching toward him before dropping to her side. “But you’ve always wanted to run for office, like your father. I don’t know if she’s a good fit for you.”
Roman shook his head. “No, Mother, I wanted to help like Dad did. That’s why Dad was in politics, because he wanted to be able to make the world a better place.”
His mother put her hands on his arms. “Yes. Exactly. And you could do the same good, just like him. But Keira Spencer is not the right woman to be standing next to you as you do that. She doesn’t strike me as the type of person who puts others before herself. As someone who wants to help. Not that I blame her for being self-sufficient or protecting herself. Especially after what you said happened with Jonathan.”
Roman took his mother’s hands off his arms and turned her so she was standing beside him, facing the salon. “What do you see there, Mom?”
“Roman...”
“Humor me, Mother. What do you see when you look at the building in front of you?”
Maureen gave an exasperated sigh. “I see a decent salon in a relatively good section of town. Probably a solid business choice.” She turned to Roman. “But all this proves is that she has a sufficient business head on her shoulders. That’s not surprising to me.”
“She owns the whole building, Mom. Paid for it free and clear with some money her parents left for her when she turned twenty-five. Not just the bottom section housing the salon, but the six apartments above it.”
Maureen shrugged. “Tax-wise, that probably wasn’t the best move, to buy it outright. But is she planning on using the apartments for further income? Depending on what shape they are in that could be a good financial investment.”
One thing Roman loved about his mother was her business savvy. She could appreciate a shrewd corporate move better than most. Had an eye for it. It had been what made her such a good partner to his father.
“Those apartments on top of the salon? Keira uses them as a shelter for women who have been trafficked or are running from an abusive situation. Keira doesn’t charge the women anything to stay here, and then she teaches them a skill, either with hairdressing or some other type of cosmetology trade, so they have a means of supporting themselves.”
He watched his mother stare at the building. “Fresh Starts.”
“Exactly. It’s not just about someone getting a nice haircut.”
“I had no idea.”
“There is more to Keira than meets the eye. And there are more ways that I can help, that I can give back to society, than by running for office. That may have been the plan once, but I don’t know that it is anymore.”
“Then what is the plan?”
“Keira is the plan. Keira and the baby.”
* * *
“I WANT TO kill her right now.”
Damien Freihof sat back easily in the passenger side of the car in the back of the parking lot, pointed toward Fresh Starts salon. Jonathan Cunningham sat in the driver’s seat.
The man had already tried to harm Keira twice, both off Damien’s schedule. Once during the blizzard and once after Damien had first contacted him and Jonathan had decided to sneak around the salon, where Keira had almost caught him.
Damien needed to get him back on track. “I would not suggest that, given that Roman Weber, one of the Omega SWAT team members, is standing directly outside her front door.”
“I’ll kill him, too. He’s the one who’s been sleeping with her.”
Damien had to keep Jonathan under control. The man was just disturbed enough, just idiotic enough, to think he could take on Roman and win.
But telling him that outright wasn’t going to do much good. Jonathan lived in his own fantasy world. If Damien wanted to talk him into doing something, he had to work within that fantasy.
“I have no doubt you could take him.” Lie. “But don’t you think it’s better to wait? To make your wife suffer? The way you’ve suffered. If you just go in there with a gun and shoot them both, then how will she really suffer?”
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the salon. “I guess you’re right. Keira deserves to suffer. I was always so good to her, then she left me.”
Damien nodded. “Yes, some women just don’t appreciate it when they have it good.”
Actually, Damien did understand that a little bit. His wife, Natalie, had never appreciated how good her life was with him. And then, before Damien could really prove it to her, Omega Sector had taken her away from
him.
“And my mom was in there. I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt her.”
Damien had been surprised to see Bridgette Cunningham at the salon, brought in by Maureen Donovan. But ultimately, it didn’t really matter. Let their own personal drama play out however they wanted it to. Damien just needed to lie low for a few days.
They had blown up his house.
If Mr. Fawkes hadn’t notified him that the SWAT team was on their way, they would’ve caught him.
Such a close call made Damien very angry.
Ended up that Spike guy was a little bit smarter than Damien had given him credit for. He had sent one of his men to follow Damien and then used that information to cut a deal with law enforcement.
Spike didn’t know that the medicine he would be receiving later this afternoon in the hospital was laced with tetrodotoxin. Damien wouldn’t have to worry about Spike following him anymore. And the woman who lived with Keira in the apartments over the salon wouldn’t have to worry about Spike bothering her ever again. Damien didn’t take well to people who thought they could betray him.
Fortunately, the explosives at his house had worked the way they should, protecting Damien’s secrets from Omega. Sadly, no one on the SWAT team was killed, but Damien understood there were some pretty severe injuries.
Good. Mr. Fawkes’s plan to take down all of Omega and reset the law enforcement establishment as a whole, with some other very well placed explosives, was almost ready to go.
Damien just had to keep Omega focused on him a few more weeks.
Or, more specifically, get people like Jonathan Cunningham to do the dirty work for him. Omega wouldn’t know who exactly they were chasing.
It was all coming together. Time to stop toying around with them. He’d enjoyed killing Grace Parker, but he was growing tired of the game. He was ready to work with Mr. Fawkes to destroy Omega Sector for good.
Fawkes wanted to destroy Omega to change the landscape of law enforcement. To force changes at the most fundamental level. And also, Damien suspected, because Omega Sector had rejected him in some way.
Damien didn’t hold the same ideological aspirations as Fawkes.
He just wanted Omega Sector to burn. The way Natalie had burned.
But right now he needed to keep Jonathan Cunningham under control, for a couple more days. Then Damien would turn the man loose to do whatever he wanted with poor Ms. Spencer. Damien and Fawkes would help Jonathan and his efforts by agitating things at Omega.
Always one of Damien’s favorite pastimes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next few days went by without incident, from either Roman’s mother or from Damien Freihof.
Omega did receive an update from the DEA that Ronald “Spike” Dunham had died in the hospital, due to a rare allergic reaction to a medication he was given. Omega had looked into it, of course, but was still waiting for results to see if Spike’s death had truly been an accident.
Roman doubted it. That the man who had given them their closest lead to finding Freihof had accidentally died a couple days later? Roman didn’t believe it for a second.
Defeating Freihof and capturing the mole were of critical importance. Omega couldn’t keep splitting its focus the way it had been.
So when Roman got the text from Steve’s personal cell phone, he was ready.
I don’t want to use Omega channels because of the mole. Confirmed spotting Freihof.
The next message contained an address only a couple miles from the salon. Roman was already running up the stairs to Keira’s apartment for his backup sidearms.
You’re closest. I’m calling local PD for support, but you’re most likely to catch him. I’ll send someone to the salon for protection detail.
Wait for backup if you can. Be careful. You know Freihof is dangerous.
Yeah, Roman had scars all over his shoulder and back as proof. Two other Omega Sector agents were in the hospital as testament to how dangerous Freihof was.
Roman wouldn’t underestimate him. But neither was he going to miss a chance to catch him just because he didn’t have backup.
Keira was in the middle of teaching Heather a new styling skill when Roman came back down through the salon. She took one look at his face in the mirror and excused herself.
He pulled her into her office.
“What? What happened?”
“We have a confirmed sighting of Freihof a couple of miles from here. I’m the closest Omega agent to the scene.”
Keira nodded. “Then go get him. But be careful.” She reached out and fisted her hand in his shirt, pulling him closer. “You be careful,” she said again.
Roman nodded. He wasn’t worried about his safety. “Steve is sending someone else here to make sure you guys are safe. Don’t go anywhere until the agent gets here.”
She shook her head. “I won’t. Don’t worry about me—I’ve got nowhere to go. You focus on what you need to do.”
He reached out and placed his hands on her cheeks, then threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled her up against him. He felt her arms wrap around his waist as his lips covered hers.
The kiss was brief, but expressed everything they couldn’t say to each other right now. And not just because he had to go.
“Soon,” he said against her lips. “Soon.”
He wasn’t sure if he meant Freihof would be caught soon or the two of them would be together soon. It didn’t matter.
“Yes.”
He kissed her one more time and then turned and ran out the door without looking back. This was the chance. Hopefully, Freihof didn’t know he had been spotted.
The address Steve had sent him was one of the larger pawnshops in town. Perhaps Freihof was planning to purchase a new weapon, or needed some money after his home was destroyed.
Roman didn’t care why the man was here, he just wanted to catch him.
The police backup hadn’t arrived when Roman pulled up at the door. Roman decided he couldn’t wait. The element of surprise was the biggest factor in his favor right now.
He walked in the door casually, as if he was a customer, with his Glock hidden behind his leg, hoping not to draw any undue attention to himself in case Freihof was just inside the main room.
He immediately took stock of his surroundings. A young couple stood over in the corner, looking at jewelry. An older man was looking at the shop’s collection of rifles with a store associate. And a couple kids in their teens, probably skipping school, were looking through DVDs and video games.
Roman didn’t think the older man could be Freihof, but given his ability to disguise himself, Roman wasn’t willing to take the chance.
He walked over to where the employee was showing the older man the guns. Roman pulled out his badge with one hand, keeping his sidearm low but ready. He watched as the employee’s eyes grew wide.
“I’m a federal officer. I need you to put your hands on the counter please, sir.”
The older man glanced at Roman with one eyebrow raised, but did as he asked. “I’m buying this gun legally, son. Have gone through more than the two-day waiting period.”
Looking at him more closely, Roman realized there was no way this could be a disguise. But he had to try.
“Sir, if you will pardon me for just a moment...” Roman reached up and grabbed some short strands of hair at the back of the older man’s skull, what little of it there was, and tugged.
Nothing happened. This wasn’t a wig. This wasn’t a disguise. This wasn’t Freihof.
“You pulling my hair for a reason, son?” the old man asked.
Roman offered his apology and then turned to the employee, a much younger man, who was still looking on in surprise. “Anybody in the rear of the store?”
The guy shook his head. “Um, I’m pretty sure my boss went to the bank. The a
ssistant manager, his wife, might be in the office.”
“Anybody else? A customer? Did you see anybody head back there who shouldn’t be there?”
The kid wouldn’t stop shaking his head. “No. No. It’s been a pretty slow day. I haven’t seen anybody go back there. Almost everything we have to sell is out here, anyway.”
Roman glanced out the window, hoping to see his police backup, but there was nothing. He looked more thoroughly at the other people in the room. Based on height and weight and gender, there was no way any of them could be Freihof, even if he was disguising himself.
He held out his badge again. “I need everyone to exit this building please.” He turned to the employee, who had Tyrese printed on his name tag. “Tyrese, can you give me a brief layout of the rooms in the back. We’ve got a situation here that could possibly be dangerous.”
Now Tyrese’s head went from vigorous shaking to vigorous nodding. “Yeah, man.” He pointed toward the rear door. “When you first enter the hallway, there’s a bathroom on the left. The next door, on the right, is the manager’s office.”
“Any other rooms back there?”
“Just a small closet where we keep cleaning supplies and stuff. My boss has a warehouse where he keeps all the other merchandise, so none of that is on-site.”
Roman began walking toward the door. “Is there a back door leading outside? Do any of the offices or closets have windows?”
“There’s a door at the end of the hall that leads to the back parking lot. But there aren’t any windows.”
Roman nodded. “Tyrese, get these people out front. And wait for the police to arrive.”
Roman kept his weapon drawn as he walked into the hallway.
He cleared the bathroom first, pushing the door open. There was nowhere to hide in here. He pulled the door closed behind him when he left.
Roman glanced at the door that led out to the parking lot. It didn’t look like it had been used recently or propped open. He wished he had more information about the people who owned this pawnshop. Could they perhaps be working with Freihof in some way? Some of the “partners” he’d convinced to go after someone in or connected to Omega Sector?
