Missing Justice (The Justice Team Book 7)

by Adrienne Giordano

  “I know who you are,” Ros said, staring at her desk and the folder lying there. “You’re on suspension, Agent Sinclair, so save the threats. I’m friends with plenty of powerful people who can turn your suspension into a permanent firing.”

  Taylor recognized the colored folders, their Hearts of Love logos shining under the overhead light. “You might want to reconsider who your friends are. I can tie you to the murder of Felicity Jarvis, and that, my dear Rosalind, is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  A few slaps of his cheeks from Caroline, and Mitch came to. Grey and Caroline helped him into a chair. He reared up, his gaze landing on Rosalind after a moment. “Did she seriously get the jump on me?”

  Caroline patted his shoulder. “Relax, killer. Her minion did. He snuck up behind you. You never had a chance.”

  “Where is he?” Mitch shrugged off Caroline’s hands and pushed out of the chair, nearly toppling over with dizziness from his head wound. “Where the fuck is he?”

  “You see that?” Taylor said to Ros. “Start talking or I’ll turn him and his wife loose on you, and believe me when I say, Caroline there follows through on her promises. Plus, you hurt her husband. That alone warrants an ass-kicking.”

  Caroline and Mitch advanced on Rosalind, although Mitch continued to be unsteady on his feet and Grey had to grab him before he ran into the other chair. But the fierceness in their faces made Ros press back in her chair.

  Taylor wheeled the chair around so the woman faced her. She leaned down in front of her and pointed at the red folder. “Tell me where the baby is that’s on that birth certificate.”

  Matt disappeared out the door.

  Ros’s cell phone played a melody for an incoming text. “No.”

  Frustration burned in Taylor’s veins. She wanted to hit something. Someone. While she was sure no one in this room would blame her if she clocked Rosalind again, it wasn’t how she did things.

  Taylor glanced at the phone. The caller ID read “BabyDot” and included a message: Stork run confirmed for 7 pm.

  Stork? Storks delivered babies. “Who’s BabyDot?” she asked Ros. “Is she delivering the baby tonight to the new family?”

  Matt came back in, hauling Glaw with him. He shoved Glaw into one of the chairs and the man winced. For the first time, Rosalind looked worried. “It’s a legitimate adoption.”

  “Bullshit.” Matt flipped open the folder. “The parents listed on the original birth certificate are fake. If this is the kid being delivered to the new parents, it’s not a legal adoption. Where’s the drop-off?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. If you have evidence to charge me of a crime, then haul me to police headquarters and I’ll call my lawyer.”

  Matt wheeled away from Ros and yanked on the back of Glaw’s neck. “Tell us where your friend is delivering that baby or you’re going down with your boss.”

  “Don’t say anything, Dwayne!” Ros said.

  Taylor flicked her gaze from Ros to Glaw. “Fine. Let’s discuss Baby Jarvis. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Glaw said, monotone. “The adoption agency is legit.”

  Right. And she was Taylor Swift.

  Playing with Ros’s phone, Taylor tried to circumvent the passcode so she could read all the texts, not just the one that had flashed on the lock screen. Looked like old Ros had set up a touch ID. That would make things easy. And she had a sneaking suspicion BabyDot was none other than Dottie Hernandez.

  Taylor studied Glaw, took in the stiffness in his body, the tension. The build was about right. Could he be…

  “You broke into my home, didn’t you?” she said to Glaw as she yanked Ros’s tied hands up and placed one of her thumbs on the phone. “You tried to sabotage my car, and you beat me up. Assaulting a federal officer is a felony. Add to it that you caused bodily injury and were carrying a weapon at the time, and you’re looking at twenty years, probably more. Oh, and by the way,” Taylor turned to Ros. “Since Mitch and Caroline are both former agents, and Matt is a former cop, you’re looking at four counts of the same, Rosalind. That’s just the beginning of what I can charge you with.”

  Matt yanked on Glaw again. “We know you killed Felicity Jarvis. She ID’d your truck on the phone to her husband. It’s only a matter of time until we prove it.”

  While Ros was occupied with Matt, Taylor grabbed her hand and shoved her thumb to her phone’s screen. Before the woman’s brain engaged and she snatched her hand away, the cell phone recognized the thumbprint and—hello—opened to the main screen. Taylor hit the button for text messages.

  “I want to cut a deal,” Glaw said.

  Ros swung her head. “What?”

  “Got it,” Taylor waved the phone. “I’ve got the address for the baby delivery.”

  Grey pointed a finger. “Matt and Taylor, go get that baby. Brice and Caroline, take Mitch to the hospital. Gerard and I will handle these two.”

  “My head’s fine,” Mitch groaned. “I hate hospitals.”

  “March,” Caroline said, slapping him on the backside.

  Matt headed to the door and waved at Taylor to follow. Taylor wanted to do a fist pump. They finally had these scumbags. She leaned down close to Rosalind again, the woman’s expensive perfume making her nose twitch. “This stupid bitch is about to take you down, lady.”

  * * *

  Matt tore out of the parking lot and hit the gas. “What’s the address?”

  “It’s in Georgetown, but the delivery isn’t for another ninety minutes.”

  “Then we’ll try Dottie’s house first. Grab her before she goes.”

  Taylor reached over, squeezed his arm. “I love the way you think. I can’t believe we’re doing this. We’re figuring it out.”

  A green light turned to amber and Matt hit the gas. Typically, he’d stop. Why take a chance on an accident? Now? Not stopping. Not with a baby on the line.

  Late evening traffic was picking up, cars littering the road and slowing their progress, people heading home or to the bars. Frustrated, he turned left, shot down the side street and took an immediate right, screaming down the road that ran parallel to the main street while tension and anticipation had him pressing the gas harder.

  He needed to find this baby. And Baby Jarvis. Beat the damned feds to it. Wouldn’t that be his own twisted brand of satisfaction? The feds had rejected him and he—along with one of their own—was about to solve one of their biggest cases.

  He glanced at Taylor and the amazing rush was better than any drug. The two of them, working together, saving a baby. Hopefully finding another.

  That’s what mattered. None of the ego bullshit that had driven him all these years since the Bureau had dropkicked him. And, really, after what Taylor had been through, those bastards suspending her, one of their top agents without even a warning? What the hell kind of loyalty was that?

  Not the kind he wanted any part of. He’d stick with the sisters.

  They appreciated him.

  Ten minutes later, he drove onto Dottie’s street, slowing their pace in an effort to blend in. Not likely in a vintage Mustang, but at least no one would be calling the cops complaining about the guy blowing a gasket racing down the block.

  Taylor poked her finger against the windshield. “There’s her car.”

  “Got it.” He parked in front of the neighbor’s house, flipped the ignition off and faced her. “How do you want to play this? Back door? Sneak up on her?”

  “No. Let’s do it right. Chances are she hasn’t heard about Ros yet.”

  “Okay. So, we knock on the front door, tell her we have questions. You know she’s not gonna open the door, right? By now, she’s figured out we were undercover at the open house.”

  “But there’s no place for her to go. Except out the back.”

  He pointed to Dottie’s yard. “Which is fenced in. Unless there’s a rear gate, she’d either have to hop the fence—which I don’t see her doing, or come around the front to g
et out.” He pushed open his door. “I’m gonna sneak around the side, see what’s what as far as gates. You knock on the front door. Not to be sexist, but she’s more likely to open for a woman. I’ll meet you there.”

  The neighbor’s house appeared quiet so he walked along their property line to where the two yards met. A quick scan of the four-foot wooden fence indicated no hardware or latches. No rear gate.

  Excellent.

  He hustled back to the front, found Taylor standing on the porch, to the side of the doorway. Good girl. If Dottie opened that door and started shooting or threw something, Taylor would be out of range.

  Matt stuck close to the house, ducking beneath the front windows. He avoided the steps and climbed over the railing, staying mostly out of sight.

  “Did you knock?”

  “Yep.” Taylor murmured. “No answer.”

  Matt rapped on the door again, waggled a finger at Taylor. They needed to get this show on the road. “Dottie, this is Taylor Sinclair and Matt Stephens. Open up.”

  No answer.

  Now I’m done.

  Matt hopped off the porch and peeped through the front window. The blind was down, but the edge left enough of a gap to spot someone moving inside.

  “Someone’s in there. I can’t tell if it’s her or not.”

  “Did you see anything else?”

  “No, but let’s pretend I saw a weapon on the floor and give ourselves probable cause, shall we? I mean, who knows what’s going on in there. Someone could be dead on the floor. It’s our duty to check it out.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t arguing so he lined up in front of the door, lifted his foot and kicked it right beside the door handle, sending the thing flying open.

  Someone—presumably Dottie—yelped from inside and Taylor hustled in, weapon drawn and covering Matt until he got situated with his own.

  “Dottie!” she said. “We’re here for the baby. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  The house went silent. No shuffling feet or voices, not even a rumbling furnace and the quiet set Matt’s nerves on edge. This type of silence was never good. It was dangerous.

  They cleared the living room and crossed the hallway to a set of double doors. One sat ajar and a sudden gurgling noise came from the other side.

  Baby.

  Shit.

  Taylor’s jaw dropped. Here they were, guns drawn, Dottie somewhere in this house, possibly behind those doors and armed, with a baby.

  Visions of them pushing the door open and finding Dottie using an infant as a human shield flooded Matt’s vision.

  Goddamnit. He hated when children were involved.

  Taylor gave him the crazy eyes and mouthed, “Crap.”

  Using hand signals, he indicated he’d open the door and she should cover him again. She nodded and they lined up on opposites sides, using the wall and closed door as a shield while Matt set his hand on the cracked open door and pushed.

  “Stop.” Dottie said.

  Matt did a quick peek and a shot rang out. A bullet whizzed by just as he snapped his head back and his heart slammed so hard the pounding drowned out any noise.

  “Dottie,” Matt said. “This is over. There’s no place to go. Ros and Glaw are in custody.”

  “Liars! She texted me a little while ago.”

  “Right before she and Glaw were apprehended.”

  Taylor met his gaze. “Dottie, I read your text. The one that confirmed you’d deliver the baby an hour later.”

  Silence.

  “Dottie,” Matt said. “let’s get the baby out of here and we’ll talk. Maybe see if we can help you. Okay?”

  When she didn’t respond, he slid along the wall, putting one foot into the doorway.

  “No!” Dottie said. “Don’t come in here.”

  Another shot went off, the bullet flying through the doorway and Matt’s already banged up nerves sent his blood barreling.

  He stepped back, rested his head against the wall and drew a few breaths. “Dottie, all I want right now is to get the baby to safety. That’s the most important thing. Can we do that?”

  On cue, the baby howled.

  Jesus. A baby near a gun. He hated crap like this.

  “Dottie,” Taylor said, adding just enough desperation in her voice to hopefully make a damned difference. “Please. We’re adults. We make our own choices. The baby can’t do that. He’s innocent in this. All of it. If one of us gets hurt, that’s on us. But the baby? We can’t let that happen. I know you don’t want him to get hurt. Please, let one of us come in and get him.”

  “Her.”

  Matt exchanged a look with Taylor.

  “Pardon?” Taylor said over the screaming.

  “Shh, shh,” Dottie said to the kid. Then to them, “The baby. She’s a girl.”

  Matt gave Taylor a double thumbs-up. One for distracting Dottie from taking another fucking shot at them, and two, for driving the point home that a baby shouldn’t be anywhere near this fucked up mess.

  Matt rolled his hand, urging Taylor to keep talking while Dottie went silent. Don’t lose her, Taylor.

  “I know you love kids and would never hurt one of them, no matter what. How about we do this? Matt and I will stay where we are. You put the baby by the door and then step back. One of us will take her outside. To safety. Is she in a seat or something?”

  “She’s in a baby carrier.”

  Excellent.

  “Good,” Taylor said. “Just put her near the door.”

  “Don’t try anything. I swear I’ll shoot you.”

  Taylor raised her eyebrows and met Matt’s gaze. They stood there for a solid minute, waiting for Dottie to make a move. He’d give her another three seconds and all bets were off.

  Then there was movement from inside the room. Footsteps and then a shuffle.

  “Dottie?”

  “She’s by the door. Take her. Hold your hands out so I can see them.”

  Taylor pointed at him. At this point, Taylor was making progress and it made zero sense—none—to break that connection. He’d let her keep talking and get the baby out.

  And call 911 for some fucking help.

  Matt slid his waist holster to his back, draped his shirt over it and put his hands just beyond the cover of the doorway where Dottie could see them. “I’m coming in.”

  “Don’t try anything, you hear me?”

  The woman had just fired at them and he was stepping in front of her, a big-ass target that she’d hit with no problem and she wanted to know if he heard? Oh, I hear you. “Yes. Everyone stay calm.”

  He took a breath and stepped into the opening, the barrel of a .38 pointed right at him and another burst of adrenalin flooded his system. But the baby was right there. A foot in front of him.

  Baby.

  “I lied,” she said. “That baby isn’t going anywhere.”

  She pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dottie, you double-crossing…

  Bam-bam! Taylor fired in quick succession.

  Matt, always quick on his feet, spun, dodging Dottie’s bullet. He almost succeeded, but the oof he let out told Taylor he hadn’t quite been fast enough.

  He dropped to the floor at the same moment Taylor’s shot hit her mark. A loud squall went up from the baby as the echoes of the gunshots faded away. The wail continued, but Taylor focused on Dottie’s body reeling back. Her gun and body fell in a quick 1-2 succession. A blaze of red bloomed square in her chest.

  Taylor’s gut had warned not to trust the bitch.

  Score one for my gut.

  “Matt? You okay?” Taylor kept her gun trained on Dottie as she kicked her weapon away, then she checked on the baby to confirm she was okay. The baby didn’t have a mark on her. Taylor dug out her cell to dial 911 and glanced over her shoulder. “Matt?”

  He didn’t move, but she heard a soft groan.

  Oh no.

  The baby kept screaming, her little face bright red. Dottie was bleeding
profusely from her chest. Matt wasn’t moving.

  Dammit. Taylor recited the info to the 911 operator, and prayed the ambulance wasn’t going to be too late.

  For Dottie or Matt.

  “Hey, hey…shh,” she soothed the baby, running her hands over the little girl’s arms and legs reassuring herself that she wasn’t hurt. Nothing seemed amiss, so she scooted the carrier closer to Matt and knelt beside him.

  He was on his side, eyes closed, blood spreading in a pool on the floor near his shoulder. Gently, Taylor shifted him onto his back and saw the torn shirt and sizable hole between his clavicle and shoulder bone.

  “I’ll live,” he said between gritted teeth.

  “Of course, you will, Mad Dog.” She almost laughed from sheer relief. She’d finally found someone to trust with her heart. No way she could stand to lose him now. “You’re way too stubborn to die on me.”

  His blue eyes were cloudy with pain. “How’s the kid?”

  “Can’t you tell?” Taylor practically had to yell over the baby’s screams. “She’s fine. Ambulance is on the way.”

  Matt cocked his chin down to eye his busted up shoulder. “And Dottie?”

  Taylor had a hard time working up empathy for the woman. “I probably should administer first aid to her, see if I can slow that bleeding.”

  Pushing himself up with his good hand, he glanced over at Dottie’s limp form. “Center mass. Nice shot.”

  His skin was the color of ashes. Taylor’s heart did a little squeeze. “Looks like you could use some first aid, yourself. You’re bleeding pretty good. Lay down and I’ll find something to stall it.”

  “Nah.” He waved her off, getting to his feet. “Take the baby. I’ll put some pressure on Dottie’s wound.”

  This man. What an amazing human being. “She shot you and you’re worried about saving her life?” Taylor shook her head as she holstered her gun and reached for the crying baby. “The sisters are definitely lucky to have you.”

  “And what about you, Agent Sinclair?”

  He was grinning as he pulled a sweatshirt off a dining room chair and wadded it up, but his eyes darted away from hers.