Hard Justice

by Lori Foster

  Justice said, “The cops are here. Gotta go. But I’ll let you know what’s happening as soon as I know.”

  It was another hour before Justice finally walked Fallon up to her front door. He’d left the car on the street and together they’d edged around the mess. A twenty-four-hour cleanup company would arrive shortly.

  He would stay until the job was done, but he wanted to get Fallon inside, and let her mother get back to bed.

  Mrs. Wade greeted them the second they got close, then she insisted that Justice come in.

  The poor woman looked frazzled, so Justice tried his best to put her mind at ease. “The mess will be gone in no time. The cops agreed it’s only paint. Likely just vandals.” Not that he believed it. “Fallon says you have a terrific security system, but only on the house and nearby grounds.”

  “Yes. Clayton had it set up, but I doubt he ever considered a situation like this.”

  “No reason he should have.” Now though, Justice thought, things had changed. “Any chance you can put a security camera at the street entrance in case anything like this ever happens again? In fact, I can take care of it if you want, since I know Mr. Wade is away for the weekend.”

  She reached out and touched his wrist. “Please, let’s move on to first names. We’re Rebecca and Clayton.”

  Reacting to her smile, Justice nodded. “All right, Rebecca. Thanks. Now about that security?”

  “You don’t think it can wait until Monday when Clayton returns?”

  Aware of Fallon quietly watching him, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d rather not.” Gesturing, he said, “With the paint being red, I think someone might’ve wanted us to think it was...blood.”

  “Oh, my God.” Eyes wider, Rebecca put a hand to her throat. “But why?”

  Justice was taking it as an implied threat, but he saw no reason to spook the two of them further. “No idea.” Moving on from that, he asked, “Mind if I have a look at the security?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Dressed in a pretty robe and delicate slippers, Rebecca led him around the first floor to all the security cameras.

  He also checked the different locks on the doors and windows. “How about downstairs?”

  “It’s a finished rec area. Why?”

  “Assuming there are doors and windows, I’d like to check it out, too.”

  She agreed, leading the way to what literally appeared to be a rec center. There was a theater room, bar and kitchen, game room, sauna, workout area and even an indoor pool. Trying not to feel intimidated again, Justice concentrated on the double doors that opened to an opulent outdoor entertaining area, and when he found them to be adequately secure, he checked all the windows.

  “What do you think?” Rebecca asked him.

  He smiled at her. “I’m reassured. Now about upstairs?”

  “You already checked the main floor.”

  “I meant up from that. Those are bedrooms up there, right? Is there any way for someone to get in?”

  She gave it some thought. “There are balconies off the bedrooms...”

  “Let’s have a look, okay?”

  “All right.”

  It surprised Justice that Fallon’s mom was so agreeable to letting him prowl the house. As he followed her up the stairs, he asked, “How many people have been through your house?”

  “Up here? No one that I can think of. When we entertain at home, guests generally remain on the main floor.”

  The first room she led Justice to was her and Clayton’s bedroom. It was so formal, he didn’t know how the hell they managed to sleep—or get frisky. He sort of hated to even step in the room for fear he’d damage something.

  Windows made up one entire wall with a remote to open and close the curtains and to darken the panes. He looked out and saw an amazing view of the grounds, leaving him almost speechless.

  The windows were, of course, secure.

  A decadent bathroom, sitting room and a closet big enough to live in completed the suite.

  Irritated, with no idea why, Justice next viewed two guest bedrooms, an upstairs library and then, with a teasing smile, Rebecca led him into Fallon’s room.

  “She’s still a little messy,” Rebecca said. “And she certainly didn’t expect anyone to be in here, so pay no mind to that.”

  Messy? Other than a pair of shoes not quite in the open closet, a cardigan draped over the arm of an oversize, padded rocking chair and a selection of jewelry atop a dresser, the room looked perfect.

  Like Fallon.

  “When we hired a designer, Fallon insisted on doing her own room.” Pride glowed from her eyes. “She has a fresh style.”

  “Fallon is a decorator, but you hired an outsider?” That seemed curious to him—and insulting to Fallon.

  Rebecca quickly turned away, but not before Justice saw a flash of regret, and something more, in her eyes.

  “Fallon wasn’t feeling well at the time.” Proving she didn’t want to be questioned on that, Rebecca rushed on. “She made the quilt herself. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “Yeah.” But Justice only gave a quick glance to the pretty quilt made in shades of blue that seemed to blend from light to dark. He was too busy watching Fallon’s mom.

  “As you can see, her windows also lock tight. She didn’t want a whole wall of windows like her father and I have. But the architectural windows are nice, aren’t they? To keep a balance in the outside view of the house, there’s a wall of windows in the adjacent study.”

  Jabbering? Justice figured she really didn’t want to focus on Fallon, so instead he dutifully looked over the locks on the two arched windows. Sheer curtains, also in layered shades of blue, would keep out the worst of the sunshine during the day, but wouldn’t really provide any privacy at night.

  The immense backyard, however, ensured there were no close neighbors to peek inside.

  She, too, had a connecting bath, decorated all in cream with a plush rug in front of the claw-foot tub and another in front of the glass-walled shower. When Justice took a deep breath, he caught the scent of her shampoo and lotion.

  Dangerous.

  When he finished checking everything, he and Rebecca went back to the front door where a panel held the security code. In the basement he’d seen the panel that contained all the settings.

  “The cameras are also accessible from our cell phones and tablets,” Rebecca told him. “Our privacy is very important to us.”

  Speaking of privacy...it suddenly occurred to Justice that Fallon had disappeared. Where was she? He knew she hadn’t gone to bed because he’d just been in her room. Was she peeved at him for something? Maybe thinking he was too high-handed in trying to keep her safe?

  “Well?” Rebecca asked. “What do you think?”

  “Mr. Wade did a great job. Everything is as safe as you can make it without around-the-clock guards. I know the system. It’s top-of-the-line and easily customizable. Adding a few more cameras wouldn’t be a big deal, or too costly.” Not that they’d probably mind the expense. “I’ll come by a few hours early tomorrow and take care of it. Tonight, though, make sure you lock up behind me, okay?”

  “I will, and thank you for your concern.”

  He glanced around but still didn’t see Fallon, so he asked, “Who else knows about your system? What it covers and doesn’t cover?”

  “I don’t really know.” She thought about it. “Fallon, of course.”

  “None of your employees? The people who work around the house?”

  “No. Clayton would never tell them.” She pursed her mouth and gave Justice close scrutiny while saying, “I believe Marcus is aware, since he and Fallon were practically engaged.”

  Whoa. That was news to him! Trying to sound neutral, he asked, “Engaged?”

  “Yes. He’d o
ften bring her home from events.”

  Marcus. Just thinking his name made Justice frown. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

  Brows lifted, Rebecca said, “Oh, he came by earlier today—not long after you and Fallon had left.”

  Tension crawled into Justice’s shoulders. “Why?”

  “He wants to work with me on the reading program for underprivileged kids. Marcus is very generous and gives freely of his time as well as his money.”

  It took some effort, but Justice managed not to snarl when he said, “I thought your husband disliked him.”

  She flapped a hand. “Clayton gets touchy when it comes to Fallon. Doesn’t matter how old she gets, he still wants to treat her like his little girl.” The way she said it told Justice that Rebecca didn’t really see that as a flaw. “However, I trust her to make good choices. She and Marcus are no longer together, but Fallon has said there’s no reason for us to break ties with him.”

  Justice wished he had a vote—he’d side with Clayton for sure. “You don’t think it’s a little coincidental that I ran him off, then he returned and now someone has vandalized your property?”

  Her brows went up. “What do you mean, you ran him off?”

  Carrying a tray with sandwiches and tea, Fallon chose that exact moment to return. She set the tray on the foyer table with a clatter that deliberately drew their attention.

  After a cross glare at Justice, she said to her mother, “Marcus was being pushy. But I’m the one who sent him away.”

  Justice shrugged. She could tell that fairy tale if she wanted, but they both knew Marcus would have continued to press her if he hadn’t intervened. “The point is, he was here, hassling you, then snuck in to see your ma after we left—”

  “He didn’t exactly sneak,” Rebecca said.

  “And now your driveway is splattered in bloodred paint.”

  Fallon shoved a plate at him.

  He eyed the sandwich made from some small, round, fancy-type bread. Placed artfully beside it were a pickle spear and kettle chips. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought about being hungry. “Thanks.”

  While handing a plate to her mother, Fallon said, “I’m sure Marcus had nothing to do with the paint.”

  Relieved, Rebecca nodded. “I can’t imagine that he would.”

  “Bodyguards,” Fallon added in an incriminating tone, “are apparently prone to melodrama.”

  Rebecca murmured, “I see,” while attempting to hide her smile.

  Justice snorted. “It’s called doing my job.” Then he ate the tiny sandwich in one big bite.

  Bemused, Fallon watched him chew and swallow, looked at her own sandwich, and offered him half.

  He grinned. “Nah, thanks. Even we melodramatic types know not to take other people’s share.”

  “Fallon usually only eats half anyway,” Rebecca offered, while ushering them to the dining room.

  Each lady ended up putting half a sandwich on his plate. And true enough, he’d finished every bite while they were still nibbling on theirs. “So what do you say? I can grab what I need and get here in the afternoon. We won’t need to leave for the fights until five.”

  Fallon hesitated with a chip almost to her mouth. “I thought the first fight started at eight.”

  “Prelims start at eight. Stack will be with the main event starting at ten. But I always get there early when someone from the same camp is fighting. Moral support and all that.” It’d be interesting to see how Fallon fared in the loud, testosterone-laden atmosphere. Half hoping she’d decline, but also anxious to introduce her to his world, he asked, “That work for you?”

  “Oh, sure. Whatever you want.”

  So accommodating, he mused, knowing she had no idea of everything he wanted. Not that he should be thinking about that, especially not with her mother watching him as if she, at least, knew exactly where his mind had gone.

  The beeping of his cell saved him. He answered the call from the cleaning company, replied that he’d be right out and pushed back his chair.

  “I’ll stick around until they’re done with the mess, but you two can go on to bed.” Yeah, shouldn’t be thinking about Fallon curling up in that cozy-looking bed either. “I’ll bring you the invoice for the work tomorrow when I come by to add to the security.”

  “It’s too much,” Rebecca protested. “I can see to the—”

  “No, ma’am. I’d rather you didn’t.” Melodramatic or not, at this point Justice chose to trust very few people. “Let me handle it, okay?”

  She subsided. “If you wish. But, Justice?”

  He lifted a brow.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank me by locking up behind me. And try not to let Marcus in until I’ve cleared him.”

  Rolling her eyes, Fallon abandoned her plate and stood to join him.

  “He’s persistent,” her mother said, smiling at Justice as if she didn’t mind.

  “Seems so.”

  Folding his arms, Justice held his ground. “Promise me.”

  “Fine by me,” Fallon grumbled. “I don’t particularly want to see him anyway.”

  He’d noticed. What scar could she possibly have?

  From what Justice could tell, she was physically perfect. Curved in all the right places, sleek in others. For sure her boobs were real; they didn’t appear large, but the way they bounced when she walked nearly made him nuts.

  Marcus was an idiot. Did she have an appendectomy scar?

  He snorted again, gaining added attention from both women. Going for some cover, he said, “Your mom is working with the man.” A fact Justice hated. “You’re bound to see him.”

  “Going forward,” Rebecca promised, “Marcus and I will hold our meetings elsewhere.”

  Better than nothing. Justice nodded. “Just be careful around him.”

  She treated him to an indulgent smile. “Yes, Justice.”

  Fallon grabbed his arm and practically dragged him from the room. Of course, he allowed the dragging. She looked extra cute when she got all riled up.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, he asked, “Was your ma patronizing me?”

  Releasing him at the door, she faced him with hands on her hips. “Yes, with good reason.”

  Justice frowned. He’d kind of liked having her hands on him. “How’s that?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going to divert me. I have something important I want to explain to you.”

  Her grave tone put his chin in the air with wary defiance. “What?”

  She glanced back toward where they’d left her mother, then lowered her voice. “I’m trying to break away from insanely overprotective people.”

  “Your parents?” he asked, wanting to make sure.

  She threw up her hands. “Yes, my parents. They love me—”

  “But they smother you. Yeah, I get that.”

  “Then get that you’re doing the same thing!”

  “Shhh,” he cautioned. “Your ma will hear and you’ll hurt her feelings.” Justice knew instinctively that Fallon wouldn’t want to do that.

  She drew a breath, then managed a thin smile. “This is important to me, Justice. For once I want to be free, not treated like an infant.”

  One of these days he’d understand her...maybe after he figured out why her folks were so watchful—and why she’d allowed it. “Trust me, honey, I know you’re not a child.”

  The way her eyes flared, Justice knew he definitely shouldn’t have said that.

  Annoyed with himself, he started to explain. “I mean—”

  “Thank you.” Her expression softened. “I appreciate the sentiment and I’m glad that someone realizes I can take care of myself.”

  He hadn’t said that, but he was glad she’d let
him off the hook, so he muttered, “No problem.”

  “How about instead of worrying about me, you head home to get some much-needed rest?”

  Rest? At least this time she hadn’t insulted him in front of her mother. “Do I look frail to you?”

  “No.”

  “Weak?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why would you think I need to rest?”

  She barely muffled a laugh. “You say it like a slur. Everyone needs to rest sometimes. You’ve had several busy days and—”

  Thinking she needed to understand just how energetic he felt, he took a step closer—but caught himself before he did anything stupid. Like touch her. Or kiss her.

  God, he wanted to kiss her.

  Instead, he waffled. He’d never been this uncertain with a woman, but damn it, Fallon wasn’t just a woman.

  She was a client.

  He needed to remember that.

  Eyes big and dark, Fallon stared up at him, unsure of herself, her gaze searching his. “Justice?” she whispered, sounding a little breathless and completely on board for whatever he might want to do in that moment.

  “Shit.”

  She blinked, the fog of interest clearing. “What?”

  “Just...shit.” He laughed at himself and ran both hands over his face. “I gotta roll. Lock this door behind me, and don’t let anyone else in. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He didn’t wait to learn if she had anything else to say. Instead, he strode down the drive, which now felt a mile long, though he knew it wasn’t. And with every step he felt her gaze on his back. He’d confused her.

  But hell, she couldn’t be more confused than him.

  It took nearly two hours to clean up the paint. Luckily, it was a cheap, water-based paint and they were able to get it completely removed from the concrete drive. The lawn, however, looked like hell. The crew promised the paint wouldn’t actually kill anything and that after mowing two more times, it wouldn’t even be noticeable.

  With the spring rains, even the grass should look good as new very soon.

  By the time Justice got to the small house he’d recently purchased, he really was dragging. Thanks to Fallon feeding him, he needed only a quick shower and then he could fall into bed.