Justice (The Galilee Falls Trilogy)

by Jennifer Harlow

  Justin’s gaze whips to me. “What? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  I glare at the defiant Cam before turning to Justin. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. We don’t know it’s a threat. It could just be a ploy to get us all worked up, make mistakes.” Or it’s a message. To me.

  “Bullshit, Jo!” Justin says. “You lied to me! That’s why the cruiser was following us.”

  “We’re worried about everyone’s safety, Mr. Pendergast,” Harry says. “That’s why I suggest you hire additional security for yourself, your aunt, and…Joanna.”

  “That’s it? Security? Two police cruisers? Why isn’t she in protective custody? Don’t you people take care of your own?”

  “We offered, she declined, Mr. Pendergast,” Harry says with a hard edge.

  “You’re her commanding officer. Order her to!”

  “Nobody makes Jo do anything she doesn’t want to. You should know that better than any of us, Mr. Pendergast,” Harry says.

  Justin glares at Harry, who glares back. “She also doesn’t have a death wish,” Justin says. He remembers that I’m in the room, and the glare gets focused on me. “I’m sending you and Lucy to the house in Paris until he’s captured.”

  “I’m not—”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Harry says.

  “Excuse me!” I shout. “Stop deciding my life for me without my input. Justin, you and Lucy should go to Paris, no question. I’m not running. I am not giving him that satisfaction.”

  “It wasn’t my face burnt off a picture, Jo,” Justin counters.

  “And I’ve had combat training. I spend three hours a week at the shooting range. I am a police officer. You aren’t.”

  “You’re going to use yourself as bait, aren’t you?”

  “If I have to.”

  Justin leaps up. “You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that?” He storms out, probably before he can smack me. I always have that effect on people.

  “Justin!” I say as I follow him out.

  He’s pacing the hall, running both hands through his blonde hair. He comes out of his own head when I step in. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

  “I’ve been told.”

  “Jo, in twenty years I’ve never asked you for anything. Not a damn thing. But I am asking this. I’m begging this. Please go. I just lost the love of my life. I couldn’t survive losing you.”

  “I’ll go if you go.”

  “I…I can’t. I have a business. I have to plan my fiancée’s funeral. I can’t go.”

  I knew he wouldn’t agree. Neither of us has ever backed down from anything. “Then neither can I. I am not running away. And I am sure as hell not leaving everyone I care about unprotected in this city. If something happened, I would never forgive myself. Ever. I won’t risk that.”

  Justin sighs angrily, and turns away from me. “There is nothing I can say or do to change your mind, is there?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  He doesn’t talk for a few seconds, but judging from his tense shoulders he is not happy. They slump and he hangs his head. “I’m so tired, Jo. I don’t…I don’t have any fight left in me. Do whatever you want,” he says walking away.

  “Where are you going?” I call.

  “I haven’t slept in over thirty-six hours. I’m calling Pelham Security to get round-the-clock guards for us and your family, and then I’m taking a sleeping pill and passing out for as long as I can so I can start planning a triple funeral. Okay?”

  I rankle at this one. “Fine,” I say, not meaning it. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  “I know.” He slowly walks down the hall like a man on his way to the execution chamber. I shake my head, rolling my eyes. He’s never spoken to me like that. I know it’s the grief and anger, but it still hurts. I don’t do hurt well.

  Cam and Harry remain seated but stand when I come in. “You just couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut, could you?” I ask, not hiding my fury.

  “He has a right to know, Jo,” Cam says.

  “Is he coming back?” Harry asks all business. “We have more questions.”

  “Well, they’ll just have to wait, won’t they?”

  Harry looks into my eyes, challenging me, but I’m never one to back down. It only lasts a few seconds before he looks away. “Fine. Then I guess we have everything we need here. When Mr. Pendergast is up to it, have him call us.”

  They move toward the door, Cam squeezing my shoulder as he passes. Harry refuses to look at me. Knife to the heart. When they step out, I hug myself and pace around the room like a mad woman. God, I’ve ruined everything. Everything. I’ve hurt everyone I care about. Too much. This is too much. I can’t…I see something pink in the corner behind the grand piano. I kneel down and reach for it. It’s a fluffy pink bunny with a white nose. Daisy loved this thing. She carried it around in the crook of her small arm and chattered away to it like it was an old friend. She must have left it the last time she was here. She would have been devastated without him. Scared without her security blanket. I’m suddenly sick to my stomach and throw Fluffy Bunny back where I found it. I have to get out of here. I can’t stay in this house.

  I catch up to the men outside just as they’re about to pull out. Cam rolls down his window as the press goes nuts. “Wait. I’m coming with you,” I say as I jump into the backseat.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Harry says.

  “You guys keep harping on my safety. Where’s safer than a police station?” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but I talk before he can. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said back there. I know you were just looking out for me, but I can’t stay here. I’ll go nuts. I know I’m not on the case, but I can help in other ways. I’ll man the tip line. I’ll fetch you coffee, whatever. I just need to keep busy. Be productive. Please.”

  “She does need to fill out her report as first responder,” Cam says.

  “Don’t you want to stay with your friend?” Harry asks, emotionless.

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t want me around right now. Harry, please?”

  He turns back around and sighs. I wait in anticipation for a second before he says, “Fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  If I can’t stand my first home, then there’s always my second.

  ***

  The squad room is usually quiet on weekends. There’s the odd spousal murder, but regular homicide usually handles those, not Priority Homicide. Today, we’re not so lucky. Phones ring off the hook. Officers race in and out with eyewitnesses and staff from the party last night. I even recognize a few employees of Pendergast, taken away from their restful weekends to be grilled because they knew Justin would be out of town. A harried Shannon has been in and out twice. The poor woman isn’t paid enough to juggle the police and the entire Pendergast Industries. There is a big Christmas bonus in her future.

  Me, I spent the first half an hour on my incident report, an hour calming down Uncle Ray, Aunt Emily, and Veronica after burly men with guns showed up at their doors and wouldn’t go away, and then another hour reviewing security footage from the party last night. I’ve started with the entrance to the ballroom where the invitations were checked. Shannon, on her last trip here, brought me a guest list, so if I recognize a person on the tape, I check their name off. Those who got invitations but didn’t show might have given theirs to Ryder. Straw grasping I know, but at this point it’s all I have.

  Mirabelle walks in with a cup of coffee for me. People keep bringing me things. Kowalski brought me two donuts. Cam’s wife Tawny came with a hug and cookies. Everyone’s being so nice it’s starting to freak me out. “How’s it going?” Mirabelle asks. “Any luck?”

  “No. How about you guys?”

  “Bubkus, and Harry’s getting reamed a new one by the mayor and commish.”

  “That’s constructive.” I turn back to the screen. “My shadows still out there?”

  I was here about an hour when two
hulking men in dark suits and guns arrived. Justin sent bodyguards to the station. They flanked me at my desk. They followed me into the bathroom, checking the stalls before they’d let me alone. Now, they’re at the door like gargoyles. “They made me show my badge before I could come in. They’re hardcore.”

  “Yeah, I feel safer already.” On the screen Tasha Stone and her girlfriend Melina stroll into the party.

  “Do you really think he’s going to…you know…”

  “Melt me like cheese? Hell if I know.” Liz Theron and Byron Blake. When did they start dating?

  “Are you scared?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Mirabelle. I’m scared shitless.”

  He pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry about your friend. If you need anything…”

  I squeeze his hand and he smiles down at me. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

  “We’ll catch him.” He’s the ninth person to say that to me. He walks out, leaving me to my task. My cell phone buzzes with yet another call that I ignore. There’s only one person I want to talk to, and he’s asleep according to Lucy. When it stops, I check the number. I don’t recognize it. I do have twenty messages. The only one I plan to return is Grace’s. She—

  Wait. On the screen, a dark haired man the right height and weight walks up to the guards behind Rose and Leo Giffin. As the couple bicker per usual, the man looks up at the camera. My heart clenches in my chest. It’s him. The footage is grainy, but I know it’s him. Especially after the huge grin forms on his face and he waves at the camera. The same wave he gave me the night on the bridge. The Giffins walk in and Ryder lowers his head again, handing an invitation to the guard before stepping into the ballroom. “Motherfucker.”

  I back-up the DVD and watch it again. After making note of the timestamp, I switch over to the hotel lobby footage five minutes prior to his arrival. Sure enough the same man strides into the lobby from the elevators, under the rope, and toward the ballroom right behind the Giffins. Almost vibrating with excitement, I eject the DVD and rush out of the media room.

  My guards, Geoff and Bryan, follow me into the bullpen, scanning the area for potential threats. I give it two more hours before they drive me batshit crazy. Harry’s door is closed and the blinds are drawn, so I knock. That isn’t to say I wait for an invitation.

  Harry is behind his desk looking exhausted while Mayor Miracle, Commissioner Craven, and U.S. Marshal Frank Napier wear angry faces. The Marshals have jurisdiction over escaped convicts, but since Justice works for them, they waited until last night to try and kick us off the case. The murders changed things, so we’re now part of a unified Federal task force since the department knows the area and the players. The men’s expressions switch into neutral when I step in. “Sorry to disturb you,” I say.

  “Det. Fallon,” Commissioner Craven says as he stands. He’s a thin man with thick gray hair, bushy eyebrows, and a scar down his left cheek from his legendary fight with Supernatural twenty years ago. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “As am I,” Miracle says. “Terrible tragedy.”

  “How are you doing?” Craven asks.

  If one more person asks me this, I’m going to scream. “Fine. Shook up, but fine.”

  “And Justin?” Miracle asks.

  “Devastated.”

  “Well, will you please tell him that the whole of the force and Marshal Service is doing everything in their power to find Alkaline,” the mayor says. That line must have come straight out of the press release.

  “I may have found something to help you do that, sirs.” I hand the DVD to Napier. “Ryder was at the engagement party last night. He arrived at 8:12 with an invitation in hand.”

  “Alkaline was at the party last night?” Miracle asks, stunned.

  “He probably walked right past us both ten times last night,” I say.

  The mayor gulps. “I didn’t see him.”

  “It gets better. He was staying at the hotel. There’s footage of him getting off the hotel elevators.” The men perk up. A lead. “Though he seemed to know we’d review the footage, so I doubt he’s still there.”

  “We can cross check the names of guests who checked out last night or today to Ryder’s known aliases,” Napier says.

  “We already gave that list to every hotel in the city,” Harry says. “He must be using another name.”

  “He smiled at the camera. He wanted us to know he was there,” I say. “We would have found out eventually.”

  “Five other guests have come forward,” Harry says, “to say they saw him, but didn’t believe it was him either.”

  A tiny weight lifts off my shoulders. I’m not the only one who screwed up. “I didn’t see him,” the mayor says again.

  “Why risk it?” Napier asks.

  “Ultimate taunt,” I say. “‘I was right under your noses. I drank the same champagne as the detective on my case and the mayor, and I got away.’”

  “Let’s just hope his narcissism is his downfall,” Craven says. “Our people are already at the hotel interviewing staff from last night. I’ll have them get the list and pull the security tapes since Alkaline escaped. See if he met with anyone.”

  Napier holds up the DVD. “I’ll get this over to our lab for enhancement.”

  “I haven’t finished going through it. I don’t know what time he left.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” Napier says. He stands up and walks out with the stunned mayor behind him. Probably cycling through the excuses to use when the news breaks.

  Craven smiles down at me. “Good work, Detective.”

  “I was just doing what Lt. O’Hara told me to.”

  “Then good work to you both. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I say.

  Craven nods at Harry. “O’Hara.”

  “Commissioner.” Craven walks out, closing the door behind himself. Harry sits back with a sigh. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Coming when you did. I think I was about five seconds from being demoted to parking enforcement. I have the distinct feeling I’m being prepared as the department scapegoat for this mess.”

  “Sorry.”

  “There’s a psychopath killing children out there. The city’s in an uproar and terrified, but all they’re worried about is looking bad at a press conference.” Harry sighs. “Politics.”

  “If things get too bad you can tie me to the sacrificial altar. I am the one who let him walk right past me twice.”

  “Well, you aren’t the only one. Half the city was there last night, including our vigilant mayor. No, your involvement is being kept on the Q.T. Strict orders from Craven.”

  “Why?”

  He looks away. “Didn’t ask.” Liar. “They also don’t want you anywhere near the case anymore. They’re right. We can’t give Ryder’s future lawyer any ammunition for impropriety. Craven had to use every inch of his clout to keep us involved at all. So, as of right now, you’re on paid vacation. I shouldn’t have let you come in the first place.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until Craven says so. I tried to get you temporarily transferred to another squad, but he wouldn’t go for it. You’re too high-profile right now, and your guards don’t help matters.”

  “So, I’m being punished for my friend getting killed?”

  “Jo, you have a target on your back. What the hell do you expect us to do?” I have no idea. If I was in his position, I’d do the same thing. “I’m sorry. Look, we’ll re-evaluate in a week, okay?”

  “Fine,” I say quietly.

  He rises from the chair. “I have to go back to the scene. I’ll drive you to the mansion, okay? Police escort so your friend doesn’t kill me.” We both know that’s not the real reason, but I hold my tongue. Even after all the horrible things I said, he’s still worried about me. It makes me want to cry. “Mirabelle,” he says as we walk out, “I’m dropping Jo off and heading to the scene. You’re in charge until Cam returns.”

>   Geoff rides in the backseat of Harry’s sedan with Bryan following close behind in their black BMW. Nobody talks except when Harry asks if I’d like to swing by my apartment to pick up a few things. I hadn’t even thought of that. I just have the clothes on my back. Some reporters lie in wait, and for the first time I’m glad for the guards. They push them aside like gnats. This gratitude lasts all of a minute. With guns drawn, Bryan checks my apartment for bogies before Geoff lets me go in. Lets me. Into my own fucking apartment. The coil inside me tightens almost to the breaking point.

  “Can you guys wait outside while I get ready?” I ask.

  “We’re not supposed to—”

  “I don’t want you in here!” I shout.

  Harry touches my back. “Guys, wait out here. We’ll only be a few minutes.”

  Him they listen to. They even let him shut the door without protest as I walk into my bedroom. Had I known I would have company I would have cleaned up at least the bra and panties on the floor. For some reason my hands shake as I pick up the strewn clothes from last night. That feels like a decade ago. Harry waits in the doorway, just watching me. “Those guys are driving me batshit already.”

  “They’re just doing their jobs, and they seem good at it.”

  “I feel like a fucking convict. I can’t even go to the bathroom without clearing it with them.” I toss the clothes I wore last night back down on the floor in frustration. “Fuck these! I’m burning them.” I go into the closet and grab a suitcase.

  “Jo,” Harry says, stepping in.

  I start tossing random clothes in the suitcase. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got your message. Finally. Guess right now you’re damn glad you didn’t go.”

  “That doesn’t matter now.”

  “Of course it matters!” I say, my voice breaking a little. “I said horrible, horrible things to you. Even if you did decide not to go to a stupid party with me, you didn’t deserve that. And I should have known better. I should have known you’d never do that to me.”

  “Jo…” he says, getting closer.

  I keep packing. “I should have trusted you. I…” I chuckle. “I let my own fuckedupness cloud my judgment, and I ruined everything. Everything.” Tears start streaming down my face and I can’t stop them. I go to the dresser and practically rip the drawer out. “Always have, always will. With you, with Justin, with…” The image of them lying there flashes into my mind. Senseless. This is all so senseless. One fell swoop and all the hopes and dreams for so many were destroyed. Because of me. I gasp and burst into tears so hard I double over. “Oh, God!”