Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4) Read online

  “You’ve got a little…” Tony said, pointing to the corner of her bottom lip. “Blueberry right there.”

  She licked her lips, his gaze tracking her tongue, and she felt a pulse of heat erupt between her legs. “Did I get it?”

  “No.” Their eyes locked, and a second later, he touched her, gently rubbing his thumb across her lip. His fingers grazed her jawbone and he let them linger on her skin. “There. All gone. Stay put so I can make sure we’re alone.”

  But he didn’t take his hand away. Didn’t move to clear the townhouse.

  Fallyn didn’t pull back. What was this man doing to her? He was brassy and pushy and always touching her.

  She should run. Now.

  He was also smart and funny and drop dead sexy. If she weren’t feeling so downright horny every time he looked at her, she’d definitely make him a job offer.

  She was feeling horny, however, and on the heels of that thought came a wash of guilt. Here she was, standing in her dead sister’s house and thinking about jumping this man’s bones.

  Disgusting. Get a grip, Fal.

  She couldn’t look away, though. His eyes held her in their grip. His fingers caressed her cheekbone.

  “Oh, hey, guys!”

  The woman’s voice made them jump apart and Fallyn whirled to find Jordan coming down the stairs. “Jordan. What are you doing here?”

  “Cleaning up.” She hit the bottom stair and waved a cleaning rag around at the living room. “It was a disaster and I knew you were having a hard time dealing with all of this, so I thought I’d help out and get the place back in order. I cleared my calendar this morning and had hoped to be done before you came back to sort through the rest of Heather’s things. I was just about to start upstairs. It was going to be a surprise.”

  She gave Fallyn a sad face, but then smiled, her gaze bopping over to Tony, then back to Fallyn. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, voice switching from shoot, you caught me to a concerned mother hen. “The other day you were a little…you know…?”

  “Crazy?” Fallyn said as Tony closed the door behind them.

  Jordan smiled. “I was going to say overwhelmed.”

  Fallyn had not felt overwhelmed. Pissed off, yes. Freaked out a bit, definitely. Sad as hell, you bet. But not overwhelmed. Finding out Heather had a heart problem, and then discovering she had a large amount of a drug in her system that could cause a heart attack had sent her reeling, but she handled crises on a daily basis in her career. The more the better because she thrived on it. It made the blood in her veins sing. She didn’t do ‘overwhelmed.’

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking. How about you? Did you get any sleep last night?”

  Jordan went on about her workload and all the reporters calling her. Fallyn let her talk and nodded at the appropriate moments, but her mind kept wandering back to Tony.

  He took the plastic coffee cup from her hand and helped her off with her coat while Jordan talked. Such a gentleman. She didn’t get that in New York. Not that she’d ever really wanted it. Any guy who acted like she needed him was shown the door. With Tony, it felt different. He respected her and his show of manners wasn’t about making her feel inferior.

  The couch and chairs were back in their rightful places; the bookshelves were once more neat and tidy.

  “The place looks picture perfect, Jordan. Just the way Heather liked it.”

  Jordan’s smile showed a lot of teeth and a certain pride. Her thoughtfulness, at least in regard to Heather, was another thing you didn’t find much in the hustle and bustle of New York City. “I’ve terminated Heather’s cell phone contract and caught up on the bills. Did you figure out the passcode for that tablet? I have some ideas about what Heather might have used.”

  “I figured it out, thanks. There was nothing on it but some copies of receipts and stuff.” Fallyn accepted her cup back from Tony and took a sip. “Actually, Jordan, I’m glad you’re here for another reason. I was going to call you this morning with some questions about the subcommittee Heather was on.”

  “The Senate Foreign Relations?”

  Fallyn nodded. “Do you know what they were investigating when Heather died?”

  Jordan gave her a funny look and wadded the cleaning cloth in her hands. Code Red, everybody. Fallyn’s riding the crazy train again.

  “What weren’t they investigating?” the young woman asked with a chuckle. “The Foreign Relations subcommittee deals with transnational crime, human trafficking, global narcotics, human rights, you name it. Heather loved it because they worked on global women’s health issues. My dad said they’re really going to miss her.”

  “They also investigate terrorism, correct?”

  “They oversee matters relating to terrorism in the Western Hemisphere, yes. Why?”

  “Were they investigating the CanAir disappearance by chance?”

  A frown crossed Jordan’s face. Tony leaned on the doorframe—did the man ever stand up?—and Jordan glanced at him with that funny look on her face. Help me, it said. She’s gone round the bend.

  “Of course they looked into it,” Jordan said. “It’s standard protocol since it fell in their jurisdiction, but all they did was an overview. The president and the CIA ruled it as an act of terrorism by Abdul-Nasser Nazari three weeks ago.”

  “So there was no real investigation by the subcommittee?”

  “Why would there be?”

  Fallyn mentally sighed and reached for the never-ending supply of patience she used with clients. “The plane went down near the Gulf of Mexico with a terrorist on board that carried people from half a dozen different countries. I’d say that falls in the Foreign Relations subcommittee’s wheelhouse.”

  “The plane didn’t originate in the U.S.”

  “It was carrying five U.S. citizens and Nazari is on Homeland’s most wanted list.”

  Jordan shrugged. “They reviewed the case, that’s all I can tell you. I type up Heather’s notes from the subcommittee meetings—you know how she did everything in longhand—and I remember a notation that the committee reviewed the case and agreed with the CIA findings. Case closed. There was nothing to investigate. No plane, no eyewitnesses, no nothing. Why is this so important to you?”

  Because I am, indeed, a little crazy. “Just something I was thinking about. The CanAir disappearance was such a big deal there for a while, and I never got to ask Heather about it. You know, if she had any thoughts about what might have really happened to that plane.”

  “A terrorist took it over and killed a bunch of people.” Jordan glanced at her watch and tossed the cleaning cloth onto the coffee table. “Jeez, time has gotten away from me. I better get going. There are a lot of details to wrap up at the office.”

  So the cleared calendar had suddenly filled up? Fallyn smiled at her. “I also need to ask about that bill she vetoed last year. The one that brought on all the bad press. She received death threats from that, didn’t she?”

  “The FBI investigated all of them and none were credible.” Jordan brushed by her and grabbed her coat from the tiny coat closet. “And by the way, I got into quite a bit of trouble over you two barging into her office the other day. Heather, like every senator, dealt with sensitive government and military information.”

  Behind her back, Tony rolled his eyes. Fallyn fought hard not to grin. “Sorry about that, but I needed to see what she had for prescriptions.”

  “Did you find that drug you were talking about in any of her things?”

  “No,” Fallyn admitted. “But someone gave it to her. I just have to find out who.”

  “Detective Hollister came by and asked me a bunch of questions. He seems very competent, Fallyn. Maybe you should leave this in his hands.”

  Not likely. Fallyn went to the door and opened it. “I’ll check in with you later.”

  Jordan didn’t try for a hug this time, but she did pat Fallyn on the arm. “Don’t forget to get her suits ready for Fresh Start. Sydney Banfield, the director, is doing her
annual career day at the shelter. Heather always donated suits to it for the women. Ms. Banfield will be stopping by to pick them up. I gave her your number so she can work out details with you.”

  Once she was gone, Fallyn crossed her arms and tapped the bottom of her coffee cup against her elbow. “So that was a dead end.”

  Tony boosted off the doorframe and grabbed his cup from the foyer table. “Why do you say that?”

  He took hers from her hand and headed into the kitchen.

  Fallyn trailed behind him. “You heard her, the subcommittee reviewed the case and were satisfied with the CIA’s findings. Case closed. The FBI investigated all of the death threats and none were deemed credible.”

  He poured the contents of each cup into a ceramic mug and stuck both of them in the microwave. “And you don’t think Heather might have been doing her own investigation into CanAir?”

  “That’s exactly what I think, but Jordan obviously doesn’t know anything about it. I’m going to have to dig deeper.”

  “Is there anyone else you can ask without throwing up red flags and bringing unwanted attention to yourself?”

  “Maybe. For now, I need to go get those suits ready for this Fresh Start gal.”

  “You’ll like Sydney. She does good work at the shelter.”

  “You know her?”

  The microwave dinged. Tony handed her the mug with her coffee in it. “She’s Grey’s fiancée.”

  “No way.”

  He grinned. “Tough as nails. Like you. She’s got him wrapped around her pinky.”

  The thought of a woman bringing Justice Greystone to his knees made Fallyn smile. Every one of them—the male species—had an Achilles heel and the right woman could use that to her advantage. She looked forward to meeting this Sydney Banfield. “I like her already.”

  “So you want to head upstairs?”

  There was something flirty in his voice. His eyes held hers with that smoldering look in them.

  Fallyn’s throat suddenly went dry. She took a swig of her coffee and realized, too late, it was too hot to chug.

  Coffee spewed from her mouth and she vaulted for the sink. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she said, hiding her face with her hand. She tore a paper towel from the holder and wiped her mouth, coughed and sputtered, and tried to breathe.

  A glass of water came into her view with a big, strong hand wrapped around it. Tony chuckled as she gladly accepted it from him and got her coughing under control.

  “That coffee,” she sputtered. “Too hot.”

  “Funny,” he said, sipping from his mug and grinning at her. “Mine’s just right.”

  Bastard. She drew a deep breath, set down the water glass and rubbed her hands together. “So you were saying?”

  “The suits? They’re upstairs in the closet?”

  That’s not what he’d meant when he’d flashed those sexy eyes at her. “Of course,”—you tease—“I’ll get started on those, but you really don’t have to stay. I mean, Grey has the tablet and no one’s taken another run at me, so I guess I’m safe here. You must have other things to do.”

  “You let me worry about that,” he said. “Now let’s get those suits together.”

  * * *

  An hour later, the suits were ready and the bedroom was looking as clean and neat as it had before the break-in. Fallyn was going through a bunch of Heather’s bills at the kitchen table, Tony working on a laptop and occasionally answering texts and emails, when the doorbell rang.

  Fallyn started for the door. Tony grabbed her from behind and stopped her, going to the door himself. “It’s Jordan’s father,” he said, looking out the peephole.

  “Well, let him in.”

  “You sure you’re up for round two with him?”

  She waved off his serious look. “He’s a good friend of our family and was Heather’s biggest supporter outside of my dad. I’m sure he’s just here to check on me. I was a little crazy the other day.”

  Tony’s serious face morphed into a grin. “I like your brand of crazy.”

  She batted his arm. “Let the poor man in.”

  “Sir,” Tony said, opening the door but standing in the way. “What brings you here?”

  “Me? What are you doing here?” Carl asked.

  Fallyn shoved Tony out of the way. “I’m sorry, Carl. My…Tony…is a little overprotective. Come in.”

  Carl stepped inside, fidgeting with a cardboard box in his hand. “Jordan gave me this the other day. A few of Heather’s personal items. I meant to bring them by sooner, but you know how it is.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Fallyn accepted the box, but found it lifted from her hands by Tony. He took it into the kitchen and stayed there, out of sight, but eavesdropping, no doubt. “I would have picked it up.”

  “I wanted to check on you, anyway.” Carl glanced around. “Jordan said you didn’t find the pills you were looking for.”

  Word traveled fast. “No, we didn’t, but I believe Detective Hollister sent the prescriptions to a lab to have them analyzed. Maybe one of the bottles was mislabeled or had the wrong drugs in it.”

  He removed the hat from his head and frowned. “This is a serious accusation, Fallyn, that your sister was given—or purposely took—a drug that caused her heart failure.”

  And what? Now he thought Heather committed suicide? Fallyn nearly gawked. The balls. “What are you insinuating, Carl?”

  Carl’s eyes turned hard. “Nothing, Fallyn. Whatever you’re thinking, get it out of your head.”

  “The autopsy report doesn’t lie. She had high amounts of Perisoladol in her system. There is no prescription for the stuff. We need to know how it got there.”

  A sigh. He fingered his hat, working it in circles. “Jordan said you’re asking questions about Heather’s investigations now. What are you trying to do, here, Fallyn?”

  Good God—was he accusing her? “I’m trying to get answers to my sister’s death. It’s not out of the question that someone purposely gave her a drug that killed her.”

  Carl blanched. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that, and I’m going to dig into every corner and every crease until I figure out who did this to her and why. Was it someone still pissed about her vetoing that bill or something else? Do you know anything about her investigating the CanAir disappearance?”

  Another round of the hat through his bony fingers. “I do not, but if I promise to look into it, will you stand down for now?” He lowered his voice, his eyes softening once more with pain and something else. Something that reminded her of her father when he was going to give her a warning. “You’re going to piss off the wrong people in Washington, Fallyn, and for what? Possibly nothing. Let me handle the political side of this thing. I can do it without bringing attention to myself or getting you in hot water.”

  His continued contracting at the State Department afforded him a lot of leverage. He had access to files and information Fallyn could only dream of. “You’re right.” A statement everyone loved to hear and one that usually put them at ease. “Do what you can and let me know what you find out. I appreciate your help.”

  Which didn’t mean she was going to stand down, but appeasing Carl and getting him off her ass was her first goal.

  “Good.” He returned the hat to his head, everything settled. At least in his mind. “I’m taking your father to dinner tonight. You’re welcome to join us.”

  Oh, boy. Dinner with her dad and Carl. Shoot me now. “I think a boys’ night is in order for Dad without me tagging along.”

  Carl nodded and left. Fallyn shut the door and leaned against it, blowing out a long breath.

  Tony emerged from the kitchen. “You backed down on that one.”

  “Funny thing is,” Fallyn said, reaching for her cell phone, “the more people tell me to lay off, the more bullheaded I become about forging full steam ahead.”

  “Who are you calling?” Tony asked.

  “A guy who owes me a really big fa
vor.” She listened to the phone ring on the other end. “It’s time to cash it in.”

  * * *

  Tony opened the door to the dive burger joint and even from his spot on the threshold he inhaled the aroma of searing meat. The place didn’t look like much, but it smelled pretty damned good. He waved Fallyn inside, giving her a skeptical look in the process. Between her and the guy they were meeting, they couldn’t come up with a better locale? Perhaps one where someone wouldn’t get shot?

  And, maybe, Fallyn could have left her designer suit and shoes in the closet for this field trip? Jesus, they’d be lucky if a bunch of gangbangers didn’t file in carrying semi-automatics and force her to strip.

  Which, of course, would compel him to do some serious ass-kicking and potentially wind up with a few bullet holes himself.

  Definitely should have put her in sweat pants.

  “Hey,” she said, seeming to read his mind, “he chose the place. Not me.”

  “Well, that makes me feel marginally better considering your shoes probably cost more than the entire building. You could have gone for a look that didn’t scream I-have-money.”

  At that, she burst out laughing and the sound of it, despite the fact that he should be royally pissed that she took her own safety for granted, made him smile. Fallyn wasn’t exactly easy. This was a woman who’d take a man’s leg—or possibly other body parts—off if he crossed her. But underneath all the toughness he sensed compassion and a willingness to do whatever it took to protect her loved ones.

  And on that, they were of the same mind.

  So he’d give her a pass for laughing at him.

  This time.

  “There he is,” she said, marching toward a booth on the far side of the restaurant.

  “You want me to stay scarce?”

  “Nah. He knows if I’m with someone, he can trust them. I built a reputation on discretion.”

  As they approached, the man met Fallyn’s gaze then sized up Tony. Yeah, dude, I’m staying.

  On the table in front of him was a half-eaten burger and some fries. Obviously, the guy had opted for an early lunch. His attempt at covert action. His attempt to look like he wasn’t a government employee having a clandestine meeting about a potential cover-up.