Lethal Justice (An Alliance Agency Novel Book 3)

by India Kells

  Lethal Justice

  An Alliance Agency Novel: Book 3

  Maddie Wade

  India Kells

  Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Deadly Alliance

  Sneak Peek: Knight Watch

  Sneak Peek: Hidden Obsession

  Thank You

  About the Authors

  Preface

  Lethal Justice

  An Alliance Agency Novel: Book 3

  Authors: Maddie Wade and India Kells

  Published by Maddie Wade

  Copyright © June 2020 Maddie Wade Ltd and India Kells

  Cover: Emmy Ellis

  Editing: https://www.blackopalediting.com

  Formatting: https://www.blackopalediting.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as fact. Any resemblance to actual events organizations or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook onscreen. Except for use in reviews, promotional posts or similar uses no part of this text may be reproduced transmitted downloaded decompiled reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical now known or hereafter invented without the express written permission of the author.

  First edition July © 2020 Maddie Wade Ltd and India Kells

  Lethal Justice Blurb

  Malco Aguilar and Frida Montalvo

  A gang war, police corruption, and a past they never knew they shared may steal their future.

  Malco has it all; a home he built with his own two hands, a job he loves, and a family in the form of his colleagues at the Alliance Agency. When a friend comes to him for help finding several missing teenagers from the poorest areas of Miami, Malco finds himself drawn back into a world he’d thought he’d left behind when it took everything he loved from him—one of gangs and violence, where only the strongest survive.

  Frida has rebuilt her life, clawing her way up from a brutal past filled with bloodshed and betrayal. Now as one of the most gifted and sought-after lawyers in Miami, she is finally living the life she wants. When the police chief asks her to investigate a corruption case, she knows it will require her to dig into the depths of her past and stir up a hornets’ nest that could rip apart the very fabric of the justice system. What she doesn’t realize is that things are about to get deadly.

  Running to the only people she trusts, Frida literally falls into Malco’s arms, the sexy former ranger who makes her body sing and her heart yearn for a future. They quickly realize their cases are linked and, as they work them together, secrets are revealed that may tear their fledgling relationship to shreds and change their lives forever.

  Malco and Frida must confront their pasts and work together in a game of cat and mouse before bloodshed and violence erupts over Miami and more innocent lives are lost.

  Chapter One

  Frida Montalvo leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes as she looked around her now dark office. Her assistants had long gone home, even her precious right-hand woman Rina, but Frida was used to working late and alone, especially since she had established her law firm in Miami all by herself many years ago.

  With a sigh, she rolled her neck before looking back at the documents strewn over her desk. Many more were still inside the boxes at her feet. What the city of Miami and Chief Randall had asked of her was no small task. She knew, as soon as she’d realized the implications and how this particular case would reanimate bad memories from her past, she should’ve said no. Or perhaps that was the very reason she’d accepted the case.

  A gang war was brewing in Miami. Frida knew the signs all too well, and there was no doubt about it. However, the chief of police contacting her a few days ago had been the real surprise. It wasn’t standard procedure to bring in an external consultant, especially a lawyer. Still, when he’d explained his suspicions concerning the District Attorney’s office, it had all become clearer and yet considerably more dangerous.

  Frida had known Chief Randall a long time, in fact, from way back when she was still in Los Angeles. When they’d met again here in Miami after so many years, only a quick nod of his head had confirmed he remembered her, but he hadn’t engaged in conversation. It was probably for the best. She didn’t want to bring ghosts from the past to Miami.

  However, it had become alarmingly obvious that ‘what had been’ couldn’t be left behind.

  . Her past had caught up with her, which explained why she was in her office at this time of night working, instead of curled up on the sofa with a chick-flick and a glass of wine.

  Chief Randall trusted her, and she was honored by that. He trusted her more than Pool, the District Attorney, and couldn’t risk handing the DA papers that could get destroyed or become weapons in the hands of the gang leaders. Not until he could be sure that no one from the DA’s office was involved and that everyone working in his house was clean as a whistle, which he apparently doubted.

  One by one, she replaced the papers in the boxes before locking them inside the small fireproof room in her office where she kept all her important documents.

  It would take time to dig through all the evidence that had been gathered and make sense of it, and even longer to assess if any of it was enough to accuse the gang members, or even someone in the attorney’s office of corruption—or worse.

  Tomorrow would be another long day, and Frida knew she’d need all her wits about her to accomplish the task given to her. If she were successful in her investigation, it could be the opportunity and break her small firm dearly needed to make it into the big leagues.

  There was no way she could fail. The thought of a gang war breaking out like the one that still left her waking in the night drenched with sweat, a revival of her own personal nightmare, had her sweating even more.

  Grabbing her bag and setting the alarm system, she closed the door behind her, breathing in the warm summer night air.

  Frida knew when she’d left LA, that she’d need to be by the ocean, and Miami had been the logical choice. That, and the possibilities for her business. Nowhere better to grow a law firm than in a city built on crime. Stunning as it was here, the underbelly of crime still had its teeth sunk deep into the fabric of Miami.

  The night was beautiful, warm, and full of promise as Frida stepped onto the street. Her feet ached from a long day in heels, and she wondered if she had the strength to walk to the food truck a few streets down and grab chorizo empanadas for dinner.

  Thoughts of mouth-watering food were slowly pushed aside by a nagging feeling of being followed. Frida cast a glance behind her and saw not
hing but couldn’t shake the feeling, quickening her pace.

  Her office was in a nice neighborhood, but it was quiet after the sun went down, with little foot traffic, leaving her alone. Reaching into her bag, she held her pepper spray, ready to make any stalker regret his poor decision to target her.

  After taking a deep breath, she turned to face whoever had made her inner alarm tingle, but she couldn’t see anyone behind her. The sidewalk was empty as far as she could see.

  As she continued walking, it was impossible to shake the feeling tightening her gut.

  Her mama always said that you had a gut feeling for a reason and should never ignore it, and she was right. Her first thought was to head straight to her apartment, but she refused to let fear overtake logic, and in any case, if she were being followed, she couldn’t go home. It would be foolish to lead someone to her home, and Frida was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. Instead, as planned, she went in the opposite direction, following the enticing smell of grilled meat.

  By the time she’d had her second empanada and grabbed a water bottle, her nerves and tiredness had taken a back seat to the wonderfully seasoned meal. Invigorated, Frida removed her beautiful but torturous designer shoes, stuffing them in her bag. Feeling the still-warm concrete beneath her feet, she made her way home. Her mama would freak out if she saw her going barefoot on the sidewalk, but Frida loved the feeling of nothing on her feet.

  The tree leaves shimmered above her head as she turned the corner, and the smell of the city mixed with the ocean, making her smile.

  Taking the stairs to her second-story apartment two-by-two, and causing her skirt to slide up her thighs, she unlocked the door and let her bag drop by the entrance. As she moved inside, switching on the lights, she was glad to see some cool air had remained in her apartment, despite the heat of the day.

  Torn between pouring herself a glass of crisp white wine or having a hot bath, she instead let herself fall on her couch while she gave herself a minute to consider the options.

  Now immobile, her brain started working again, trying to slot pieces of evidence together, like puzzle pieces floating in clear liquid. Not enough to make any sense of it all but, despite only being at the beginning of the work, she felt its importance in her bones. Not only as a lawyer but as a person… a link, even indirect, to her own life, to her past.

  With renewed energy, Frida was about to get her bag and continue her reading of the case when the wood floor creaked in her home office. Her entire body tensed. Her front door had been locked, her alarm… had her alarm sounded when she’d entered? As the blood rushed in her veins and her ears buzzed, she couldn’t remember. How could she be so careless?

  Her hand went to the remote control and she turned on the television, leaving it on a random news channel at a moderate sound level. Only then, did she go to her bag that she’d left in the entrance hall.

  Keeping her cool was difficult, but she wasn’t stupid enough to face an intruder on her own. Not when her gun was in her bedroom, past her office.

  Her fingers found her cell phone and Frida almost scolded herself for being silly as everything remained quiet. Had she imagined the sound? Had the stress and anticipation of this secretive case messed with her radar?

  It made her hesitate, her fingers hovering over the number. Maybe she should make sure she was indeed in danger before alerting anyone.

  About to see for herself, the floor creaked again, and this time, her office door opened to a large masked man.

  When he turned his head and looked at her, she grabbed her bag and ran like the devil was after her. And he was.

  Just one more set. That’s what Malco had been repeating to himself for the last hour. As he worked his body even harder, pushing and pulling, making his muscles sing, he once again realized it wouldn’t be enough.

  Nothing had been enough for such a long time; he didn’t remember how it was to feel satisfied and content. Letting the weights drop, he sat on the bench, elbows on his knees, observing rivulets of sweat running from his hands to his fingers, to his thighs and down his knees. As usual, his eyes watched the drops on his right leg, as it slid from his skin to the material of his prosthetic leg.

  This time, he wouldn’t dwell on what seeing that meant. He pushed it aside, grabbing his towel instead.

  At this time of night, the Alliance Agency was deserted. Friday night was usually the night when the team went for a drink, the singles mostly, as those in couples preferred other kinds of entertainment. He wasn’t into the single scene, not tonight anyway.

  Malco looked around at the darkening gym and stood, finished wiping himself and the equipment off, and ignored the dull pain in his amputated limb. One he knew would never go away.

  Once in the locker room, he removed his training prosthetic before hopping into the shower. He was done quickly, efficient as usual.

  Back in fresh clothes, he debated heading back to his place when his phone rang. His bosses, Shane Rhodes and Emme Wallace, had founded the Agency and ran a tight ship. During the weekend, if there weren’t any outstanding cases, one person had to operate the emergency line. More often than not, Malco volunteered for it. It was a good reason not to join the others. He was a team player without a doubt, but he felt out of place outside of work, and bars brought back uncomfortable feelings.

  He whipped out his phone, but it stopped ringing. The number was hidden and whoever it was hadn’t left a message.

  He put his phone down, finishing buttoning his shirt and tucking it in his jeans when it started ringing again and stopped once more before he could answer it. Again it was a hidden number.

  Sliding his gun into his holster, Malco went to the front desk to call Shane when his cell phone rang once more, and he got it in time.

  “Alliance Agency, Aguilar speaking.”

  “Shane! I need to speak to Shane now!”

  The woman on the other end sounded calm but out of breath. He wasn’t sure if he recognized her identity or not.

  “Shane Rhodes is unavailable right now. How may I…”

  “I’m heading to the Agency right now. Is there anybody there?”

  This time, Malco was on the move, going to the command center and checking the screens that showed the vision from the security cameras.

  “Ma’am, who are you? Where are you?”

  “Damn it! Put Shane on the line! I don’t have time for this.”

  There was more shuffling on the line, and someone cursed in Spanish, a bad word he understood well.

  “Ma’am. I can’t help you if you don’t give me more details.”

  For a second, he wasn’t sure if the mystery woman had hung up on him, but the background noise told him she was still there.

  Nothing on the cameras so far, and until she gave him more information, there was no way he was calling for back-up. It could be a dud call, a weirdo.

  However, her voice was familiar, if only he could remember.

  She came back on the line. “Listen, I don’t have much time, I have someone after me—a bad guy. I know Shane. He can help me. Please tell him I need him.”

  Malco heard the panic in her voice, and saw movement coming from the east end area on the monitors. “I see you.” And she wasn’t alone. The woman was running like the wind, but there were two men about thirty feet behind her. How she could run at that speed and still talk on the phone was a miracle. “Head straight for the side of the building. You’ll see a gray steel door. I’ll meet you there.”

  Sprinting toward the door, he took his weapon out and unlocked it but didn’t disarm the alarm, knowing it would alert the team without him having to make any calls.

  He cracked the door open and saw her. Barefoot, her hair blowing in the wind, she was dressed in a suit, and when one of the streetlights caught her, he recognized the face. Frida Montalvo. The lawyer had been called on for a case involving Kingsley, one of the team members, the year before. When he’d last seen her, Ms. Montalvo had been dressed up pri
m and proper, a true professional in a curve-hugging suit, her dark hair in an artful twist. Calm, composed, and ruthless, the woman running in his direction now looked like she’d been in a fight, her clothing torn with stains covering her skirt and blouse.

  Malco wanted to open the door and shoot at her pursuers, but it would put her at risk. If they hadn’t used their guns so far, there had to be a reason.

  Frida didn’t slow, and at the very last moment, Malco opened the door wider and she flew in, tumbling to the floor behind him. His sudden appearance at the door deterred the two pursuers, stopping them dead in their tracks just as Malco could identify them. They disappeared in the dark, and with one last look around, Malco closed the door, locking it tight. Nobody would be able to enter, Alliance’s founders had made sure of that.

  His cell phone rang and Emme’s number appeared, but Malco ignored it, instead, turning on the lights and going to the woman. Sweat had dampened her clothes, and she was breathing hard, her muscles quivering and shaking. There was blood on her skirt, but it was the state of her feet that caused him to wince. Her long shiny hair hid her face as she struggled to regain her breath.

  He knelt beside her and gently pushed her hair aside. She turned her face and their eyes locked. Her dark eyes shone like onyx, and in them he saw fear, but also strength and determination he’d rarely seen in another human being. When her eyes focused on him, he felt her relax an inch, as if she felt if she let go any more than that, something bad would happen.