Retribution Boxed Set (Books One and Two) (37 page)

The following morning, Janie woke up alone in
Sam’s bed. She frowned at the dented pillow that rested next to hers. She’d had
a restless night filled with fits and bad dreams, and she was surprised she
hadn’t heard him leave.

She got to her feet and then spied the note on
her nightstand. “I’ll see you soon. Love, Sam,” she whispered.

Love
? Did he mean it? They hadn’t known
each other for very long, and many people tossed the word around so carelessly
without remembering its true meaning. She was sure he cared about her, but he’d
withheld information. He’d thought his reasons for doing so were valid, but was
this the first hint that this might not be the right relationship for her? She’d
promised herself after Paul that she’d be on the lookout for such signals.

Maybe she needed to slow down and be a bit more
careful.

One thing was for sure, a smart woman wouldn’t
rely on anyone to protect her. She’d take care of herself. Whether or not
things moved forward with Sam, she wouldn’t find herself in a vulnerable
position again.

She dressed and sought out Christian. He sat at
the counter in the kitchen drinking his morning coffee and reading the paper.

“If you’ll drive me to my bank, I’ll make you the
most delicious Quiche Lorraine you’ve ever tasted for lunch.”

That sparked his interest. “Is that the one that
has bacon in it?”

“It is. Is there a problem with me leaving the
house to go to the bank?”

“I don’t see why there would be. Give me a second
to get my shoes.”

Christian parked outside the downtown bank near
Janie’s old job. She desperately wanted to run into the restaurant to tell
everyone hello, but that probably wasn’t a good idea. Paul may have someone
watching the business, expecting her to do exactly that. But he wouldn’t look
here. He had no idea she’d rented a safe deposit box.

She pulled the baseball hat Christian had forced
her to wear lower on her head and opened the car door. “I’ll be right back.” She
kept the dark sunglasses on until she stepped inside the bank’s door.

Only a few people stood in line waiting for an
available teller. Instead of joining them, she headed to the older, impeccably
dressed woman who sat at a nearby desk. “I’d like to empty my safe deposit box
and close my account.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman said. “I hope
it’s not because of bad service.”

“No, ma’am.” Janie smiled. “I’m moving, and you
don’t have a branch in my new town.” She wasn’t sure that was exactly true, but
it kept the woman from questioning her further.

“We’re sorry to see you go, but I do understand. I
hope you have your key with you.”

“I do.” Janie held up the small key ring she
usually kept in the bottom of her purse.

The lady retrieved her box from the vault and led
her to a private room. When Janie was alone, she opened the box. A quiet shiver
raced through her. Her grandfather’s old revolver sat on top of the small stack
of papers and envelopes, a half-f box of bullets next to it. She’d inherited
it from her grandpa, and she’d brought it west with her when she’d left home. A
single girl on her own should always be able to protect herself.

She snorted. Fat lot of good it had done her. Once
she’d realized how dangerous Paul was, she’d packed it away with the rest of
her personal belongings, knowing a little gal from Kansas holding her
granddaddy’s gun wouldn’t stand a chance against someone like Paul. Her best
chance had been escape. Which she’d done even if it wasn’t the way she’d
planned.

She tucked the gun inside her purse along with
her birth certificate and social security card. The small stack of fifty dollar
bills went along with the rest. She’d managed to amass a bit of money. It
wouldn’t go far if she had to pay a first month’s and last month’s rent, but
she’d make it work if she was forced. She slipped her grandma’s watch on her
wrist and headed back in the lobby where she got in line and withdrew the
remaining two hundred and something dollars from her account.

She thanked the kind lady as she left the bank,
feeling more in control of her life and a little stronger.

Christian sat up straighter as she drew near. As
she was about to enter his Mustang, she caught the gaze of a man with dark hair
who stared at her from his car as he spoke into his phone. Her heart stopped. She’d
seen him before. At Paul’s. There was no doubt he saw her as well.

She jumped into the car and slammed her door. “We
need to leave.”

Christian seemed to catch the terror in her voice.
“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a man in that silver sedan. I think he’s
after me.”

Christian barely glanced in the driver’s direction
before he jerked his Mustang into gear. “We’re out of here.” His tires squealed
as he entered traffic. “Get my gun out of the glove compartment. Just in case.”

Janie did as he asked and then switched her gaze
to the rearview mirror just as the sedan pulled out several cars behind them. “He’s
following us.” Her heart rate jumped through the roof. “Oh, God. What are we
going to do?”

“Hang on.” Christian swerved around a corner and
then another.

“He’s still there,” she said after a second. “I
think there’s a second car following us now. The maroon SUV.” She tried to
breathe. Tried not to panic, but it was difficult.

He turned another couple of corners, but the cars
followed. “Shit. Call Sam.”

“I don’t have his number.” She dug in her purse
for her phone as Christian rattled off a string of numbers. She dialed, but the
phone went straight to voicemail. “He’s not answering.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” Christian gripped his steering
wheel and turned another corner.

“It’s not okay.” The yellow light in front of
them turned red, but Christian didn’t stop. She had a second of relief before
she realized the silver sedan didn’t either.

“They’re going to kill us.”

“No, they’re not.”

She glanced wildly around for some way to escape.
“We’ve got to get out of the city. There’s too many people and traffic lights.”

“Agreed.”

A bullet pierced the back window, and she
screamed. Dear God. Paul’s men were going to kill her and Christian. Broad
daylight and numerous witnesses wouldn’t save them. “Keep your head down,” he
yelled to her.

He cut off two cars and screeched around a
corner, turning on to Hawthorne. The bridge was ahead, and Janie lifted her
head enough to look in the rearview mirror. A few seconds passed, but then she
saw the maroon car following half a block back. “They’re still there.”

“I can see them. Try Sam’s phone again.”

She dialed, but nothing. “Where are you?” she
whispered before she hung up. “Just voicemail.”

“Goddamn it.” Panic raised his voice to an
alarming octave. “He’s turned off his phone because of that fucking raid.”

Confusion and terror reigned. “What raid?”

“On Castell.”

“He’s going after Paul?
Today
? He hadn’t
mentioned
anything
the previous night. Even after she’d asked him to be
upfront with her.

Christian didn’t reply. He maneuvered his Mustang
in a tight space between two cars in an effort to put more distance between
them and their attackers. The driver behind them honked in protest.

The bridge lay just ahead. If they could get
across it, maybe Christian could gain some distance.

They were almost at the entrance to the bridge
when the warning lights came on. “
Nooo
…,” she whispered. They would have
to stop and wait until the bridge lifted long enough to let a barge pass. In
that length of time, they’d be dead.

Wild panic shot through her. The second Christian
stopped the car, she shoved open her door. “Come on,” she yelled.

“No,” Christian hollered, but she didn’t stop.

She raced past the barrier, not slowing when she
heard voices yelling behind her. Her time spent sprinting in high school paid
off. She reached the other side of the bridge as it began to separate from the
main level. She jumped the two feet down to the other side, surprising the
oncoming drivers.

Reason escaped her. Fear spurred her onward. Her
lungs burned as she covered distance, but she didn’t stop.

A shot rang out from behind her. She whipped her
head around and nearly stumbled when she realized Christian hadn’t kept up with
her.

She frantically scanned the lines of parked cars,
relieved when she spotted his head. He waved at her, and she was certain he
yelled for her to keep running.

So she did.

She had no clue who’d fired the shot. Maybe
Christian had in an effort to protect her. She was just grateful he wasn’t hurt.
Maybe the men would leave him alone now that she wasn’t with him.

She
was
the target, and killing him would
do them no good.

*        *        *

Christian grimaced as white hot pain burned his
left thigh. He slumped against a nearby car as the sound of sirens filled the
air. After he’d realized what Janie intended to do, he tried to follow her, but
a bullet had caught him. He’d pivoted to fire back, but obviously the thugs had
realized she’d gotten away, and they turned tail, running in the opposite
direction. The only good thing was their car was as stuck in traffic as his, so
they’d have to leave it and go underground. It would take time to get someone
else on the streets looking for Janie giving Christian time to find her.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and cursed. He
didn’t have Janie’s number. There was no way for him to reconnect with her.

He dialed Sam’s number, and again it went
straight to voicemail. “Fuck.” Janie was somewhere on the streets, vulnerable. Sam
would cut off his balls for letting this happen.

Instead, he phoned Ryan and filled him in. “I
need you in the city right now. Do what you can to find her. The cops just
pulled up, and I have a fucking hole in my leg. They’re not going to let me go
anytime soon. And keep trying Sam. He’s going to kill me.”

*        *        *

Sam stood two buildings down from the warehouse
they intended to raid. The complex of warehouses had been settled on the
outskirts of town, near the Willamette River, offering both water
transportation and access to the nearby interstate. He and Noah wore their
Kevlar vests and helmets just like Mark’s men. They’d taken as many precautions
as they could to reduce casualties without alerting Castell’s men. Mark had men
on opposing rooftops with the sights on their guns trained on Castell’s
building. They’d been waiting for hours, and Sam prayed the shipment would
arrive at any time. Electric tension coursed between the men waiting for their
cue.

“Possible suspect approaching from the north,”
came across Mark’s radio.

They all waited until an unmarked white van
passed by the building they occupied. Mark pushed the button on his radio. “Confirm
building.”

“Building confirmed,” replied a different man’s
voice. “Van is backing into the delivery door.” A few seconds passed. “Delivery
door is now coming down.”

Mark eyed the men in his presence with a nod. “Proceed
as planned,” he said over the radio.

The group of armed men crept along the front of
the building with Sam and Noah in the rear. Two men ducked under the window of
the office door while Mark tested the handle. He nodded, indicating it wasn’t
locked. He whipped open the door with a wide sweep, allowing ample room for his
men to enter. The first two rushed inside weapons drawn, the others following
along behind them.

Sam entered the building, his surprised
expression matching that of the others. The white van sat inside, but there was
no sign of any men, armed or otherwise. In fact, a good portion of the building
sat empty.

Mark nodded toward the small office sitting off
to the left side. They stealthily made their way to the room, men watching for
any activity in all directions. When they reached the office, Mark peeked in
the window that allowed anyone sitting behind the desk to watch activity going
on in the warehouse. With a swift move, he stood and pointed his weapon at the
occupants of the room.

“
Police
. Don’t move.”

Sam walked forward and could see Paul Castell
sitting behind the desk, not exactly looking surprised at their appearance. Standing
next to him was a younger man with blond hair wearing a jacket with a patch stating
Riverside Delivery who very much seemed shocked to find eight men with guns
trained in their direction.

“Can I help you?” Paul said to Mark.

Mark tossed the search warrant on Paul’s desk. “We’re
conducting a search. How many other men are in the building?”

“None,” Paul replied. “It’s a Saturday. I only
came in to receive this one package.” Paul pointed to the large cardboard box
sitting on his desk before he shifted his gaze to Sam, the slightest hint of a
smile touching his lips. “Detective Holden. Nice to see you again.”

“Why did the van need to be parked inside the
building for just one package?” Sam asked.

“In case you hadn’t heard, I’ve recently been
released from the hospital. I’m still having a hard time getting around, so I
asked the driver to pull inside. Is there a law against that, officer?”

Sam couldn’t respond. Boiling blood pulsed
through his vessels. If he said anything, he’d lose his cool. Instead, he
stared at the man he seriously wanted to rip apart, limb by limb.

Janie had been right in her assessment of Brent. That
little mother fucker had tipped off Castell. He’d better hope to hell he didn’t
come face to face with Sam again.

“Weapons?” Mark asked.

Paul shook his head and raised his hands. “I run
a respectable business, officer. I have no need for a gun.”

An expletive jumped from Sam’s lips that time,
and both Mark and Noah eyed him. Mark didn’t linger with his gaze, but Noah did.
His partner indicated with a jerk of his head that they should leave the room.