Lady Justice

by Vicki Hinze

  Conlee knew what they had learned and he hadn’t canceled them. How had he avoided it? Did it have something to do with Home Base’s move? Carnel Cove would be an ideal location. SDU had a built-in cover with L.I. already working defense contracts. There was also that construction going on downstairs on Sublevels 1 and 2, where he’d snagged the plywood to cover the broken lab window. The move would have protected Candace and Miranda, but not Elizabeth and Paige. Perplexed, he continued to think this possibility through, but Elizabeth reclaimed his attention.

  Her voice softened. “William asked us—the ladies, as he and Keith call us—to protect Gabby. Because of the judicial corruption. That’s when we brought her into our circle.”

  Max couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t believe it. So all the ladies knew. Good God, Oversight was going to blow a gasket. “Did Gabby tell you—?”

  “Gracious no, Max.” Elizabeth guffawed. “Gabby doesn’t know we know about her. Of course we all have known for months, but we can’t tell her. It would put her between a rock and a hard place. She’d have to turn us in or be eaten alive with guilt for not turning us in. We’d never put her in that position.”

  “So why have you put me in it?”

  “Because Gabby loves you, and we think your motives are pure. You don’t believe her feelings go beyond friendship, but her best friend says Gabby’s loved you for five years.”

  Sybil? Stunned, he had to search for his voice. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe or not as you choose, Max.” Elizabeth reached for a cup of tea he suspected had long since gone cold. “But know we have protected and will continue to protect her.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Which is why, if you’re here to cancel Gabby, you need to insist Commander Conlee revise his orders.”

  It was a moot point. Even Conlee knew by now Max had no intentions of executing those orders. “Elizabeth, I haven’t admitted that there is an SDU or a commander, or a Conlee. I haven’t admitted anything.”

  “Are you denying it?”

  If he did, she’d probably shoot him. “I’m saying everything you’ve said is conjecture.”

  “Do you know underestimation is the number-one cause of death of SDU operatives?”

  The training manual quoted verbatim. Miranda had snagged the operatives training manual? She was good. Pushing, he said, “You have no proof.”

  “I don’t need any. I’m not preparing a case for a court of law.”

  “What are you doing—other than conjecturing yourself into a corner with no escape?”

  “This conjecture is fact, Maxwell Grayson, and don’t waste your breath or insult my intelligence by trying to intimidate me. I fear no one short of God. William’s gone. I’ve walked through grief’s hell and survived it. What could possibly hurt me that much again?”

  Elizabeth didn’t bother waiting for him to answer. “My point is that we gave William our word to protect Gabby. I had hoped that wouldn’t include protecting her from you, too, but if it does, then so be it. None of us is going to stand by and watch you murder her in the name of national security.” Elizabeth lowered her gaze to his hands, still holding Gabby’s. “Not that I’m sure you could kill her. But just in case you think you can, you had better talk to Conlee. If one hair on her head is touched intentionally, we’ll stir up such a ruckus you’ll all pray for death to escape. That’s a promise, not a threat,” she warned him. “The ladies of Carnel Cove might be a small group, but we both know small groups can be very effective, don’t we, Max?”

  SDU certainly had been. Because he couldn’t answer, he just stared at her.

  “Among us, we have a lot of powerful friends—on both sides of the law, and in influential positions.”

  Dangerously stubborn, but he had to admire her passion. She made no bones about protecting Gabby, regardless of what it took. He respected her conviction, a lot. “Does Gabby know that you’re aware?”

  “I told you, we’d never tell her.”

  “But does she know it?” he insisted. “The way you knew with William?”

  Elizabeth hiked her chin and refused to answer. “I think I could use another cup of tea.” She picked up her cup and saucer and left for the kitchen.

  Watching her go, he frowned at her back. She obviously wasn’t worried that he would report the ladies to Commander Conlee. Max scratched his head. Exactly why was that?

  What in the world were they talking about? Gabby wondered. So cryptic and mysterious. They had clearly been talking about her, and yet nothing they said made the least bit of sense. They might as well have been speaking Greek.

  Gabby opened her eyes. She looked at their joined hands resting on Max’s knee, and groaned in earnest.

  “Are you okay?” Worry lighted his eyes.

  “My head feels like a road crew has been taking turns at it with a jackhammer.” Her stomach was full of knots, too. Some of them because she felt like hell, but some stemmed from not understanding what was going on. What was this SDU thing Max and Elizabeth had been discussing? It sounded so ominous. If Gabby should know about it, why couldn’t she remember it? She remembered them. And why hadn’t Max straightened Elizabeth out on the matter of their marriage? Of course, they were married. So why hadn’t he disputed her? These things just didn’t make sense. None of them made sense.

  Some people hallucinate with this infection, Gabby. If it happens, don’t be frightened.

  Erickson had told her that. Obviously, he had been right. Everything except Max seemed alien to her. He felt familiar and right on every level: from his looks to the feel of his hand holding hers to the scent of his skin.

  Max blew out a breath that could only be interpreted as intense frustration. “You’ve worried me.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

  Why would he worry if they weren’t married? He wouldn’t. She remembered their wedding … more or less. She remembered her wedding gown. The seed pearls and lace and long train, and Max in a warm gray tux, looking like the hero of every Cinderella’s dreams. She definitely remembered posing for that photograph. A little of her tension melted. “Much better.”

  She didn’t remember the ceremony, the church or flowers, or making vows to Max. But she was a sick woman; everything in her mind was jumbled right now. She rubbed the sheet between her forefinger and thumb. The rough grating felt good. She just needed to relax to remember. She certainly shouldn’t lie here and give herself garbage for memory problems—especially not after the torture she’d put herself through on finally taking the plunge.

  She had taken the plunge! Sybil had teased her mercilessly about getting married. She’d mailed Gabby a noose, shackles, and a ball and chain. Candace had seen the stuff and freaked, certain Gabby was being stalked by a crazy person.

  That she remembered in humiliating detail, but not her wedding.

  Max checked her temperature. “Fever’s down substantially. When Dr. Erickson was here, did he give you something?”

  “I don’t remember.” She swiped at her hair, tangled and loose, sweeping it away from her face. “My mind’s been playing tricks on me, but—I just don’t know.”

  “Gabby was dying,” Elizabeth said. “She couldn’t string three words together and she wasn’t lucid. Not even remotely lucid. She’s turned the corner on the infection. Erickson had to have done something to her. There’s no other explanation.”

  “Was anyone else here?”

  “No.” Elizabeth frowned. “No one.”

  What a quagmire of a mission. Regardless of what Max did now, he had loose ends and a bigger maze. And still no evidence.

  He’d searched and re-searched every possible place, found nothing, and there just wasn’t anywhere else to look.

  “There’s a plate of food in the fridge for you. Pot roast and new potatoes.” Elizabeth walked over and clasped his shoulder. “It’s really late and I know you haven’t eaten all day. I’ll keep watch over her.”

  He glanced out the window wondering what to do
. Everything he learned revealed something that appeared important but unconnected. Yet, the connections had to be there. He just had to find them. He could further interrogate Elizabeth, but shouldn’t. She offered aid without it, and what she didn’t reveal on her own, all of SDU was safer with him not knowing.

  “Go on and eat.” Elizabeth urged him with a tug at his shoulder. “I imagine the mayor is going to want another meeting soon, especially since Carl Blake missed the first one. I just heard on Fast-Track News that they’ve started spraying Area Two.”

  Max didn’t know how to react to that news. Commander Conlee had Dr. Richardson looking at the Carnel Cove victims’ records, and Stan Mullin from FEMA was checking the contents of the pesticide spray, but so far, there was no word on whether the spray was preventing deaths in Carnel Cove or facilitating the infection’s spread and causing them.

  At the moment, Max wouldn’t bet a nickel either way.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Darlene tapped her fingers on Christie’s desk, staring at the bank alarm signal, willing it to go off. Miranda’s ten minutes had long since come and gone.

  “I’m going to take Mrs. Mayor’s report.” Jackson tugged on his cap. “Radio Bobby to check in with the waste trucks as time permits. Make sure they report seeing anything suspicious. We want to keep down the looting.”

  “Why don’t I just radio the trucks?”

  “Storm damage, babe. There isn’t a truck in the county with radio power right now. They went hi-tech. Not equipped with CBs anymore.”

  Darlene’s stomach plummeted. Would the bank alarm still work? Miranda had said it would, but had she known this? And so much time had passed.

  Jackson left and Darlene resisted the urge to call Miranda by the skin of her teeth. Instead, she put on a fresh pot of coffee. She’d give it another two minutes. If nothing had come in by then, she’d have to act. Jackson could pass the bank and not notice the rental. The men could be waking up or even be long gone.

  The alarm signaled exactly one hour late.

  “Thank you, God!” Darlene grabbed the radio headset and paged Jackson, relayed notice, then listened to him confirm and radio Bobby to meet him at the bank. Daylight Savings Time. Carl hadn’t altered the alarm’s clock.

  The knots in her stomach that should loosen up tightened. She dialed Miranda’s, let the phone ring twice, and then hung up.

  Miranda would pass the word that the alarm had sounded. She sipped at her coffee, answered two calls about people breaking curfew, dispatched Bobby to cover them, then waited.

  Finally, Jackson radioed. “Bobby, get to the bank, pronto.”

  “Yes, sir, Sheriff. Minor delay. A tourist got tanked up and needed calming down.”

  “You take him to jail?”

  “Naw, Sheriff. He got bad news today, so I just helped him get to sleep.”

  “Are there going to be bruises?”

  “Only the ones his wife swears he got falling off the roof.”

  “Darlene?”

  She nearly tipped her chair in an effort to reach the radio. “Go ahead, Jackson.”

  “Make sure all four cells are ready to receive prisoners.”

  “All of them?” She let out a held breath. He had the team in custody! “Did you bust up another hurricane party?”

  “No drunks, tonight. It looks like a bank robbery. Get Carl Blake and have him run the ATM security tape over to the office.”

  “Right away, Jackson.”

  “And, you’re not going to believe this.”

  “What’s that?” She released the button to transmit, anticipation building in her stomach.

  “Faulkner just pulled me over. Looks like Mrs. Mayor really was robbed this time.”

  “Seriously?” Yes, yes, yes! Darlene bounced on her chair. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “Seems these bank robbers have had a busy night.”

  The ladies had done it! Darlene bit her lips to hide her excitement from her voice. She’d been married to Jackson too long for him to miss it. “They robbed the bank and the mayor?”

  “Sure looks that way. The aquamarine she reported stolen last winter showed up in a shirt pocket during pat-down.”

  Remembering who those men were, the training they had, and their abilities, worried her. “You be careful, Jackson.”

  “Always,” he said. “Get busy on those cells.”

  Darlene phoned Carl Blake and then Elizabeth, keeping one ear on the radio.

  “Hello,” Elizabeth said softly, sounding half-asleep, though Darlene knew all the ladies were wide awake, awaiting word.

  “It’s Darlene Coulter, Elizabeth,” she said, mindful of the recordings. “Sorry to phone so late, but I’m in a jam.”

  “No problem, dear,” Elizabeth said. “Can I help?”

  “I’m hoping you can. I was supposed to take care of Candace in the morning, but Christie is suffering something awful from her allergies so I sent her home. I’m filling in for her at the station and Jackson just radioed that he’s bringing in four prisoners. I’ve got to get the cells ready, which means I won’t get a wink of sleep tonight. Could you fill in at Candace’s?”

  “Certainly.” Elizabeth paused, obviously hiding her relief. “What time?”

  “Seven,” Darlene picked a time out of thin air.

  “I’ll be there.” Elizabeth sighed. “Night.”

  “Night.” Darlene dropped the receiver into the cradle. Elizabeth would call the other ladies. Then, they’d wait for one final call before they all called it a night. The one Darlene would make, telling them Conlee’s second team was cooling their heels in Jackson’s jail cells.

  Frankly, that time couldn’t come fast enough to suit her. These men were trained operatives and there were four of them. They could take Jackson down.

  Cold fear gripped her heart. Darlene gritted her teeth and went to check the cells, hoping she wouldn’t regret the ladies’ decision to not just shoot them. The thought of killing turned her stomach, but not so much as Jackson being hurt.

  Max opened the front door and couldn’t believe his eyes. “Candace?”

  “Hi.” She stepped inside, dressed in white slacks and sandals and a pale green sleeveless top. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and she appeared weak and weary but determined.

  “You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.” Blunt, but true. Her recovery was nothing short of a miracle.

  “Don’t be fooled. You should feel it from the inside.” She touched his arm with a shaky hand. “When the fever broke, the symptoms started to ease up. I’m tired as hell, someone’s still playing baseball inside my head, and my days and nights are mixed up, but I think I’m going to make it.” She walked through the entryway into the living room. “Elizabeth is worried about Gabby. I wanted to see her myself.”

  Max was worried about Gabby, too. She certainly hadn’t made Candace’s kind of comeback. “She’s sleeping now. Her temperature is down. It’s not yet normal, but it is better.”

  Candace nodded, looked as if she wanted to ask something, but then thought better of it.

  “Sit down.” Max motioned toward the sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Maybe some juice, but not now. In a minute.” She dropped onto the sofa, crossed her long legs in front of her. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of things at L.I. I don’t know what I’d have done if you and Gabby hadn’t come.”

  “Glad to do it.” He sat down in a chair across from her. He should dig a little before risking a bold move, but there was too little time left to waste it on typical tactics. He didn’t totally trust the ladies, but they hadn’t exposed Gabby and he didn’t have a lot of options left to try. One thing he didn’t doubt was that the ladies had not made the attempt on Gabby’s life. Nothing about them was consistent with those who hired Global Warriors. “Candace, something strange is going on here. You do realize that.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate or try to avoid the truth.

 
That encouraged Max to take the plunge. “Elizabeth and I have been very frank. I need to be frank with you, too. I’m nearly out of time.”

  “By all means, Max.”

  She didn’t ask “time” on what. That was an excellent sign. “Are you aware of any leaks that might have come from the ladies about Gabby?”

  “No, I’m not.” She leaned against the sofa arm, braced her head with her arm. “If there had been one, we’d all know about it, Max. And we’d take the necessary steps to nullify any complications caused. That’s how we operate.”

  “No secrets.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Not from each other.”

  He believed her. It fit with everything he’d seen in all of them. “Your recovery is nothing short of a miracle.”

  She nodded, dipped her chin. “Ask what you really want to know, Max. If I can answer, I will.”

  Her willingness relieved and worried him. “Do you remember anything special about Erickson caring for you?”

  She dropped her gaze to the coffee table, to the magazines Gabby had laid out.

  Max’s gaze followed. Judicial Review, Weekly Standard, and a variety of other magazines that all had oak trees on the covers, lay fanned there. Something hitched in his chest at knowing he was the only person in the world other than Gabby who understood the significance of those oaks. “Candace?” he prodded. “It’s important.”

  “I know.” She took in a heavy breath then looked up at him. “Do you want to know for Gabby, or because you’re after Erickson?”

  Max could and should lie, but she deserved better. “Gabby needs help, Candace. But if Erickson is doing something he shouldn’t be, then both.”

  “I’m sorry, then.” Her expression turned somber, her eyes distant. “I can’t help you.”