Just Cause

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Just Cause Page 8

by Carolyn Arnold


  Seconds passed where neither one of them moved or said a word.

  She held her composure, how, she wasn’t sure. She knew Winston was being manipulated by the chief. Her mind went back to King and his anonymous source…she shook the notion that occurred to her.

  “You’ve got to start following the rules, Knight. If you don’t, I won’t have much choice, other than to—”

  He never finished the sentence, but it was easy enough to piece together. Her job was on the line if she didn’t start following direction.

  “We can’t even use you in the background on this case. You need to be as far from it as possible.” He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it. I just want to get through the rest of this day, preferably the week even, without another upset or stain on the department. The charges were heard by a judge this afternoon and were approved. Bail was set and they’re out.”

  The anger pulsing through her made it hard to formulate words, even though she wasn’t surprised by the sergeant’s news. “What was the bail set at?”

  “Knight, what does it matter? You have to let some things go.”

  “Let me reopen the Lexan case.”

  The sergeant rolled his eyes. “You can’t get involved.”

  “But I am involved. It was my life on the line. Besides, this is a different matter. Why can’t I work on the case in the background? Their charges are about me, not Lexan. Let me open his case back up.”

  “And you still feel justified for being there?”

  She noticed how he avoided her question. “That’s not the poi—”

  “That’s exactly the point. Their lawyer is going to argue, hell, he already is, that they felt threatened. All the charges against them could be dropped.”

  “They what? The Russians felt threatened by me? Their charges were thrown out? That’s a joke.”

  The sergeant disclosed no amusement.

  “So, basically they are within their rights to constrain a human being, an officer of the law no less? And physically harm them, hold a gun on them, threaten to kill them—and that’s okay? I mean, it’s all right as long as the person went on their property.”

  “They have witnesses who saw you enter with your gun raised.”

  “They what?”

  “You heard me right. Signed affidavits stated that you went in, armed.”

  “That part’s not a secret. You know I was armed.”

  Winston exhaled an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, with your gun raised.”

  “These men have been threatened, coerced into saying this.”

  “We’ve been through all of it. I don’t have time to work through every nuance with you. Hell, I’ll be happy to be home for Christmas this year.” His eyes fell to the mounds of paperwork on his desk.

  Madison fought the urge to roll her eyes. They were just about a quarter of the way through the year. Christmas was still a long way off.

  But he was hiding something from her. His diverted eyes disclosed he wasn’t working his own agenda. This went higher up the food chain. Was it possible the chief was behind leaking her name to the press and, if so, what was his motivation? Simply to have her fired, or was it more involved than that.

  “Listen, boss, this case is important to me. It’s not because they almost killed me.” Saying the words caused her to take pause. Her heart palpitated. The fear was real, it was validated. If SWAT hadn’t come in when they did, she would be lying in a box right now—not that she’d know it. For the second time that day, her thoughts cut to Troy Matthews. She still owed him a thank you.

  She cleared her throat and softly touched her hurt wrist. “My purpose in all of this now, as it was then, is to see justice for—”

  “Yes, Knight, you’ve made that clear.”

  “Do I have permission to pursue the Lexan investigation? They are facing charges related to me.”

  “Once you’re cleared by both the shrink and a physician.”

  “Boss, come on.”

  He leaned across his desk. “If you can do this from behind a desk while taking care of your modified duties, yes then, by all means, have at it.”

  On the count of three, pull the trigger.

  The flashback took her unprepared. Her hand gripped the arm of the chair.

  “Knight?”

  She heard him say her name. She saw him watching her. She could only part her lips—nothing came out.

  “See, you need to take care of this. You’ve been through a lot.”

  She sensed it in his tone. What he really meant was she had been through a lot that she had brought upon herself.

  “I’ll handle this. I’ll investigate the cold case and get resolution on it once and for all.”

  “Save the speech, Maddy.”

  With him addressing her by her first name, she noticed that his eyes held the warmth of a father. It made her uneasy to witness that there. It really held in stark contrast to an ulterior agenda. That had to be coming from the chief.

  -

  Chapter 21

  HE’D BEEN WAITING A LONG time for this moment to come. And it was finally here. He received the call with the time and location last night. The job was laid out before him and he knew how he was going to handle it.

  Constantine reclined on the couch, his arm over the back, last night’s sexual kitten asleep in his lap, her head resting close to his cock.

  Her name was Yasmine. They had been lovers for some time—a situation that had developed against his best interests. She was one of many he went to bed with, but, by far, his favorite.

  He put his fingers in the tangle of brown locks and yanked on them.

  “Ouch.” She twisted her neck and leered up at him. She was ready to go again.

  “Get up,” he yelled the directions in Russian. When she refused to move, he lifted his legs, jarring her spine.

  “What the—”

  He cupped her chin, maybe a little too tight because it was turning red. “Now, now. You know how ugly swearing makes you, love.”

  Her eyes fired with rage. “Well, you never smile.” She batted him on the chest and skulked away.

  He had grabbed her wrist before she made it far.

  She put her fingers to the side of his mouth and pushed upward. “See, you do it like—”

  He took her mouth and parted her silk panties to the side, then pushed her back onto the couch.

  MADISON PUT THE MAN’S HAND on the fingerprint scanner.

  “I need to get this club open as soon as possible. I need this to go through—”

  Ken Russet came up from Indiana with dreams of starting a bar. Why he chose to settle in Stiles was beyond Madison. He had thick, bushy eyebrows that could have been salvaged and used in a treatment for the top of his head, which had hardly any hair. His eyes were sincere, but a dull brown, matching his personality, which seemed quiet and withdrawn. If Madison cared, she’d wonder what motivated him to open a bar in the first place. Was it to live out a teenage fantasy?

  “There’s a process, and it can’t be rushed,” Madison said and realized the truth applied to more than this man’s background to get a liquor license.

  She let out a deep breath as she surveyed the room for signs of life. It went on all around her. Terry had already stopped by to say good morning and then headed off to the lab.

  She envied him for having been able to face the Russian bastards for what they did. They needed to pay—not just for the dead lawyer, but also for her.

  On the count of three, pull the trigger.

  She shook her head willing the recollection to shift and lodge back into the darkness it kept slithering out of.

  “Hello?”

  She’d almost died. She would have if—

  “Officer?”

  She blinked, realizing that Russet was ad
dressing her. The title he assigned her was enough to snap her out of her thoughts. “What?”

  He pointed to where she held his other hand against the flatbed.

  “You’re pushing down a little hard, ain’t ya? It’s not like it’s ink anymore.”

  “Oh.” She let go of his hand and he pulled it back and cradled it. “What happened to your wrist anyway?”

  “Injured in the line of duty.”

  Russet smiled, revealing his genetic asset. “Very cool.”

  You can’t kill the devil. Sergey’s words slammed her without notice.

  Her skin went clammy.

  “You all right? Your face—”

  “I’m fine.” She reached for his other hand. Her cell phone rang, and she let go of him.

  “Maddy, you’ve got to get to the lab.”

  It was Cynthia. Maybe she was going to come clean about the bullet lodged in the wall.

  “You have something to tell me?” she asked Cynthia but glanced across to Russet.

  “Please don’t be like that. Just listen to me, would you? As your friend.”

  Russet simpered, seemingly self-conscious, but she wasn’t really looking at him, she was looking through him. Her mind was on Cynthia’s tone and her apparent need to see her, right this minute. Her stomach churned. Was it bad news?

  “I’ll be right there.” Madison hung up and finished with Russet’s other hand in a couple of seconds. “All right, you’re good to go.”

  He looked from his one hand to the other, likely wondering why the second one went so fast.

  She stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Work to do, Mr. Russet. Good day.”

  “What about my license?”

  She didn’t turn around but waved a hand in the air. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Two steps later she was flattened against Troy Matthews. His hands went to her arms to steady her. She looked up at him, his height towering inches above her. And there were those green eyes again…

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  “I just…I have…the lab.” She could have punched herself this time. Could she be any more obvious about her attraction to the man? She had to get it together.

  She slipped out of his arms, reluctantly. Her mind was cognizant of the fact that, when she’d fallen against him, his chest was ripped.

  He dropped his arms to his side, his eyes still welded to hers.

  The air felt thin.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Run me over? You know if you wanted to be in my arms, Madison, all you’d have to—”

  “Listen, I really have to get going.” She took a step.

  “I wanted to say congratulations on the stayed IA investigation. You’re a real bulldog.”

  “I’m a what?”

  “A bulldog. You know. Hard-headed, determined. You’re going to get the answers you seek no matter what.”

  The power harnessed in those irises of his was waning. The term brought back Terry’s assessment from yesterday when he’d called her bull-headed.

  She crossed her arms. “You make it sound like it’s all luck.”

  He didn’t waver under her glare. In fact, he didn’t give any indication that her response affected him at all. He never shifted position, not even so much as an eye twitch.

  “I never said that. I said you’re a bulldog.”

  She swore the glint in his eyes challenged her. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or took insult to it.

  “Well, you better get going. It seems I’ve slowed your stride.”

  Inside, she was screaming. What was it with this man? He took it upon himself to read her mind, assign her a nickname…what did he think it was—endearing? And if so why was he trying to be?

  It was for these complications that she steered clear of relationships. Now, if she could get her mind off of his body and back on business, something might actually get accomplished.

  -

  Chapter 22

  MADISON FOUND CYNTHIA AT HER desk in the corner of the lab.

  Cynthia swiveled in her chair. “There you are.”

  “Yes, here I am.” She had tried to douse her feelings of betrayal on the way here, but now, being in front of her friend, they reemerged.

  Cynthia must have read it coming off of her. “What is it?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the bullet you found lodged in the wall?”

  “Are you being serious with me, Maddy? I was ordered to keep it from you.”

  “Why?” The session in Winston’s office came to mind, the way he’d diverted eye contact as he shifted blame for the entire situation on her.

  “Please, don’t be mad at me over this.”

  “What have you found out?” Madison leveled her gaze with Cynthia.

  Seconds passed with steady eye contact, neither woman looking away until Cynthia broke the silence. “The bullet has been processed and it came from your gun.”

  The breath Madison was holding let out. While her record would be marred due to the investigation, even if it remained stayed, she wouldn’t have a dark splotch of wrongdoing written in indelible marker.

  “Why do I have a feeling there’s more?”

  “It still proves that you fired, and based on your statement, as to where you were standing…”

  “Cyn.” Madison took a few steps forward.

  “You had intended to shoot the man.”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Shh.” Cynthia held her finger to her lips. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “It was either shoot or be shot.”

  “Well, I’m very happy you came out on the other end, but some other people…” Cynthia didn’t need to finish her statement. Madison knew how it would end.

  “The chief’s after me and I just served him up my badge.”

  Cynthia caressed Madison’s arm.

  “No, I’m not giving up, I refuse. It’s not even in my DNA. If that man wants my badge, he won’t get it without a helluva fight.”

  The edges of Cynthia’s mouth lifted. “There’s my girl.”

  “Dang straight. If he wants to play hardball, I’m more than willing.”

  “There’s that look in your eyes.”

  Madison hesitated. Cynthia was her best friend, but maybe the less she knew, the better. Madison needed more to substantiate her suspicions that the chief had leaked her name to the press. And if he was guilty, did it represent something more? Was the chief somehow involved with the Russians? She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Please, what did you call for? Please tell me you’re going to get me away from the crazy walk-ins looking for licenses. If I have to print one more—”

  Cynthia cringed. “I can’t even picture you—”

  “Please don’t.”

  Cynthia laughed. “For how long?”

  “Until I get cleared by the doctor and see the shrink.”

  Her friend’s laughter got deeper.

  “Is something funny?”

  She was covering her mouth to stifle her laughter, and tears were beading in the corners of her eyes.

  Madison placed a hand on her hip and played the power of silence.

  “It’s just…” A snort.

  “Cynthia!”

  “Sorry…sorry. It’s just the thought of you talking out your feelings—” Another guffaw. She held up her hand. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled and took a deep breath. “All right, I’m all better now.”

  Madison couldn’t keep her eyes off Cynthia. Why was it so hilarious that she had to see a shrink? She didn’t think it was funny at all.

  “The reason you called me here?”

 
“Ah, yes.” Cynthia cleared her throat and, with it, the frivolity that had seized her disappeared. “I know you’re off the case when it comes the Russians, but I couldn’t shut you out of this.”

  “The sergeant actually cleared me to investigate the Lexan murder.”

  “Really?”

  “Trust me, I was surprised too.”

  “He must feel guilty about something.”

  Madison let Cynthia’s statement hang there, although, she couldn’t help but wonder if her friend held the same suspicions she did about the chief and his motivations.

  “We’re still working on analyzing everything we pulled from the room you were in at Homeland Logistics, but you’re not going to believe what we’ve already found.”

  With mention of the room, Madison worked to suppress the flashbacks. No doubt when she saw the department shrink this afternoon, he’d try to convince her that she had mild PTSD. But that was something other people got, not her.

  “Maddy, are you still with me?”

  “I’m waiting. I thought you hate it when I interrupt you.” She offered the excuse, hoping that her friend bought it.

  “Wow.” A light in Cynthia’s eyes disclosed she’d had some sort of revelation but didn’t want to verbalize it.

  “Are you going to tell me, or what?”

  “There she is. My impatient Maddy. I’m feeling a little more at ease now.” Cynthia walked over to the table and picked up a watch that was in a plastic evidence bag.

  “This watch has the initials JC on it.”

  Madison shook her head. “Not following.”

  “JC are the initials for James Calin.” Cynthia paused for a second. “You’re still not following?”

  Madison knew exactly who the man was. James Calin made the call to the lawyer’s fiancée, claiming he was dead, or as good as. “And you found this in the room?”

  Cynthia grinned. “We found this when we swept the office outside of the torture room. It was under a cabinet. Possibly there was a scuffle, and it came off and slid across the floor.”

  Madison’s face relaxed. “His blood was found in his apartment, but we were never able to tie him back to the Russians. And we never found his body.”

 

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