Retribution Boxed Set (Books One and Two) (40 page)

Sam went to work the next morning with a fire lit
under him. He
had
to bring down Paul Castell, and he had to do it now. He
admired Janie’s strength, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with her
life. He’d keep pressure on this side of Paul while he, Christian and Ryan
worked to put other obstacles in Castell’s way.

Noah was already at his desk when Sam arrived. He
startled when Sam walked into their office and quickly clicked his computer
mouse as though closing a screen. It appeared as though his partner was doing
something he shouldn’t.

“What were you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Noah answered far too quickly. “Work.”
He cleared his throat and shuffled some papers on his desk.

“We’re going to focus on nothing but Paul Castell
this week. I know he’s into something deep, and I want to bust his ass.”

Noah blinked a couple of times. “Okay.” He paused
a moment. “Did you clear this with the captain?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you start
questioning me about assignments?”

Chastised, Noah shrugged. “After the failed raid,
I figured we should get more concrete intel, from more than once source, before
we go all out again.”

“You think so, huh? The guy was treading into
dangerous territory.

His partner held up his hands. “I’m looking out
for your best interests. Some of the guys are thinking you might be too
obsessed with this case, and they’re asking why.”

Noah’s statement was a punch in the gut. He’d
watched the department turn on those who failed at their jobs, and eventually,
they either left or were fired. But those guys couldn’t do the work.

He could. He produced continually, kept dangerous
criminals off the streets.

Their conversation was interrupted when Clark
stepped into their office. “Any more news on that Castell fellow?”

Sam eyed him, wondering if he really wanted to
know, or if the irritating investigator had heard the talk and wanted to rub it
in.

“If I need your help on anything, Dyer, I’ll let
you know.” Sam leveled a hard look in his direction. He didn’t need either of
these punks questioning his ability to do his job.

Clark lifted his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t realize
it was such a touchy subject.”

Sam was ready to tell him to get lost when his phone
rang.

“In my office. Now.” The captain of the police
bureau delivered his message and hung up before Sam had a chance to respond.

An expletive dangled from the edge of his tongue.

“Everything okay?” his partner asked. He glared
at Noah, and then left without saying a word. Being goaded by Clark was bad
enough, but instinct told him his partner didn’t truly have his back.

*        *        *

Heavy rain pelted the basement windows as Christian
came at her with a menacing look. Janie concentrated on his actions, planning
her next move. She tried to dodge him, but he grabbed her around the waist.

Then like clockwork, she ran through the list of
moves Sam had taught her, and the next thing she knew, she was free and
pretending to kick Christian in the face. He caught her foot, and they both
laughed.

“You’re getting to be an expert,” Christian said
as he released her.

Janie smiled. “It feels good. To not be weak, you
know?”

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” She sighed, still unable to shake the
overwhelming sense of doom that had followed her like a dark cloud since their
conversation the day before. She’d gotten the feeling that she had no say in
the matter, but she couldn’t leave it alone.

“Christian? I really don’t want you and Sam in
harm’s way because of me. More than that, I don’t think I could stand it if
either of you killed Paul. You’d have his blood on your hands, and it would be
my fault.”

He stepped close enough to her that she could see
the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. “I know this bothers you, Janie, but
you’ve got to understand that you’re treating Paul like a civilized human, and
he’s not. He’s ruthless and willing to take your life. Sometimes, you have to
deal with people on their terms, not yours. Remember what Sam said. If it ever
gets to the point where Paul’s life is in danger, it will be because
he
put himself there, not you. It’s his to own, not yours. Do you understand
that?”

When he said it like that, she did. “But what if
one of you gets hurt? You’ve already been shot once because of me.”

“That was a surface wound, a scratch.”

It had been a little more than that, but he’d
recovered quickly.

“You’re treating us like we’re pansies, Janie. You’re
questioning our intelligence and abilities.” He smiled. “Guys hate that.”

“I know,” she said, half-smiling. “I just don’t
like it.”

Christian nodded. “He loves you, you know. He’s
always been good to go after a bad guy, but I’ve never seen him this determined
or this obsessed.”

Sam’s matter-of-fact statement caught her off
guard. “I know.” She did. His words and actions had proved that to her. “I love
him, too.”

“I don’t think he knows that.”

She sighed. “He doesn’t. I need to tell him.”

Christian nodded and started to speak before the
ringing of his phone interrupted him. He grabbed it from a table near the
doorway and frowned. “What’s up?” he said into the device.

The expression on his face changed the atmosphere
in the room from somewhat lighthearted to downright tense. “
What?
I’ll
be right there.”

He looked at her, his face a mask of disbelief
and shock. “Something in the bar’s kitchen exploded, and the place is on fire.”

“Oh, my God.” Her heart stopped as she tried to
make sense of what he’d said.

“I’ve got to go. Fuck. Call Sam while I grab my
shoes.” He frantically shoved his phone into her hands before running up the
stairs.

She followed him, dialing Sam’s number as she
went.

“I can’t talk right now, Christian,” Sam said,
answering the phone. “I’m headed in to see the captain.”

“
Sam
. It’s Janie.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone shifted from irritated
to concerned.

“There’s a fire at Christian’s bar.”

“Are you kidding me? What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he really knows. He
needs to go, Sam.”

“You can’t be alone.”

“I’m fine for ten minutes.”

“It’s going to take me longer than that. I’ve got
to at least explain to my captain that I have a family emergency. It might take
me fifteen to twenty.”

A calmness settled over her. She no longer felt
weak or scared. “It’s okay. I’m safe here. I can be alone for a few minutes. Do
what you need to and then come home, okay?”

When Sam hesitated, she continued. “He needs to
be there. This is his livelihood, and I’ll be fine. I think I would be more at
risk if I went with him.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll call when I’m on my way.”

She hung up as Christian raced into the kitchen. “Sam’s
on his way. You go.”

“Maybe you should come with.”

“No. I’ll be fine here. Go save your bar.”

He nodded, his face still white with shock.

“Call me when you can,” she added as he headed
out the door.

“Set the security alarm after I leave, okay?”

She waved him away, waited until the garage had
closed, and then she reset the alarm.

Emptiness echoed through the house as she shut
the door behind her. The wind had really picked up outside, causing branches to
scratch against the side of the house.

She wrapped her arms around her, sick at the
thought of what Christian would find. She prayed no one was hurt. Unneeded
adrenaline from the excitement still ran through her veins, leaving her anxious.
She wanted Sam to be there to share in her waiting and wondering.

A loud bang echoed from the back of the house,
startling her. She glanced out the back doors to see that one of the deck
chairs had blown over.

She forced a calming breath. This was the first
time she’d been completely alone in months. That, along with Christian’s
terrifying news would set anyone on edge. She glanced at the clock on the wall.
If she went now, she’d have time for a quick shower before Sam arrived home.

She’d finished undressing when the sound of glass
shattering scared her witless. Her first thought was that the wind must have
blown one of the chairs into the glass back doors. She wrapped a robe around
her and hurried down the hall.

*        *        *

Sam walked into the captain’s office, on edge and
antsy. He needed to get home. He ignored the cluttered files and numerous
coffee cups that lined the man’s credenza. The fit, older man didn’t look like
the type that would consume gallons of coffee each day along with a hamburger
and fries for lunch, but he did. He also ran twenty miles daily and flushed the
hazardous waste with plenty of water.

The senior officer watched him with an assessing
gaze as Sam took a seat across the desk.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Your informant on the Castell case, Brent Shaw,
was found dead this morning of a suspected overdose.”

Sam processed the news, an uneasy feeling growing
in the pit of his stomach. He’d bet anything it was a forced overdose. “I’m
sorry to hear that.” The fact that he’d more than likely been a catalyst in the
kid’s death didn’t sit well with him.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Captain? There was no doubt he was being called
on the carpet, but he couldn’t imagine this was over the raid. There were
plenty of stings that went south, plenty of criminals who escaped the law the
first time around.

His supervisor stared at him with a hard gaze. “I’m
going to ask you a question, and you’d damn well better tell the truth.”

He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t
exactly run out of his boss’s office without explaining why. Fight or flight
fired within him, and it took all he had to remain seated. “Ask it.”

“Are you harboring a fugitive?”

“
A fugitive
? What the hell was he talking
about?

The captain flattened his lips into a thin line. “Are
we going to do this the hard way?”

Shit. He couldn’t mean Janie. No one but the guys
knew where she was staying. “I’m not harboring a fugitive.”

He glanced down at a notepad on his desk. “So,
you have no idea on the whereabouts of Janie Singleton?”

Fuck. Sam swallowed, but remained stoic. He needed
to answer truthfully, but he couldn’t give her up.

His boss seemed prepared to wait him out.

“She’s not a fugitive. She’s a victim of domestic
violence, and I’m only protecting her.”

Disappointment dulled the captain’s features. “She
still has to answer for her actions.”

He was trapped, and there was no way out. “It’s
not right, sir.”

“We are servants of the justice system. It’s not
for us to decide what’s right. That’s up to the courts.”

Why hadn’t he whisked her away when he’d had the
chance? And how in the hell had his supervisor found out? “I understand.”

“Good. It will be easier if she contacts her
attorney directly and works through her.” He paused for a threatening second as
though he needed to let Sam know how serious things were. “Do it today. Now. Do
I make myself clear?”

Sam jerked his head in a nod as thoughts raced
through his brain. If the captain knew Janie was with him, then someone else
did, too….

“You’re a good detective, Sam. An asset to the department.
Don’t let a girl—”

Sam didn’t hear the rest of his boss’s words as
he dashed from his office, panic thundering through him.

*        *        *

Janie glanced at the back door, not seeing any
broken glass or any more chairs that had tipped over. Maybe something had hit
another window?

She turned and nearly vomited. Paul stood in the
shadows of the adjoining room, a gun in his hand.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Icy fear consumed Janie. “What do you want?” she
managed to whisper.

“You.” Paul raked a possessive gaze over her. “I’ve
missed you.”

She shook her head and took a step backward.

He advanced, keeping the gun pointed at her. “It
looks like you’re ready for that shower now. ‘Cause God knows I’m ready for
you
.”

“No, Paul.” She ran for the garage door, but he
caught her by the hair. Pain exploded in her head, and in the distance, her
phone began to ring.

“This time, we’re going to do it my way.” He took
her by the wrist, and she tried to jerk away from him. He laughed at her
efforts. “Face it, Janie. I own you.”

His statement broke open a molten vat of anger
that singed her veins and centered her thinking. “No,” she said, bracing her
feet like Sam had shown her. “
I own me
.” She twisted her wrist and
jerked their hands up toward her shoulder, allowing her to break free. She
aimed a kick for his groin, but he moved just in time, and she caught him in
the thigh. The force was still enough to drop him to his knees. He grabbed for
her and caught her robe. She released the sash and escaped it.

Then she ran.

He blocked the hall, and therefore the regular
exits, so she headed into her bedroom, slamming the door shut as he got to his
feet.

There were too many similarities between this
time and the last, but this time, she wasn’t a helpless, battered woman.

She twisted the lock, her heart pounding. Her
cell sat on the desk ringing. Her grandfather’s gun in her closet.

Paul twisted the knob on the door, and she ran
for the closet. Her phone would bring help. Her gun would allow her to help
herself.

She voted for the latter.

Despite her thundering heart, she remained fairly
focused as she pulled the gun from the box. The sound of his full weight
slamming against the door vibrated the windows. She slid bullets into all the
chambers and closed it just as Paul crashed through the door.

He stopped short when he realized she had a gun.

“If you move, I
will
kill you.”

The second he lifted his hand that held his
revolver, she squeezed the trigger. Paul keeled over as Sam’s words rushed
through her brain, and she realized he was right. It was Paul’s actions that
brought them to this point. Paul’s black heart and his cruel ways.

As blood pooled on the floor, she couldn’t bring
herself to regret what she’d done.

She’d ended things.

She’d protected herself and the ones that she
loved.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she walked to the desk
and lifted her phone. Sam.

“Thank God, you’re okay.” His words rushed across
the phone line, comforting her. “I’m almost there, but I think Paul may try
something. I want you to—”

“Sam,” she interrupted. The tears came then. He
was still trying to protect her, and she loved him for it. “It’s over.”

“What’s over? Panic still colored his words. “Janie?
What’s over?”

“I shot him, Sam.” She swallowed. “This time, I
think I really might have killed him.”

Sam burst through the door two minutes later,
stepped over Paul and crushed her in his embrace.

She let him. For a long time, she let him just
hold her.

When the sirens sounded in the distance, he
released her. “Find something to put on, and I’ll meet them at the door.”

She slid into some jeans and a tank top, a cool,
calmness keeping her sane. She was sure at some point, this would all crash
down on her, but for now, she was okay.

*        *        *

Clark collided with Noah as he exited his office,
knocking the empty coffee cup from his hand. It shattered into a multitude of
black ceramic pieces when it hit the floor.

“Sorry, Clark.” The detective continued past him,
obviously in a state of excited stress. “There’s been a shooting, and I’ve got
to go. Sam’s somehow involved.”

“Was it that girl he’s trying to help? His pulse
increased. Paul had achieved his goal. Thank God, too, because they both were
on their last thread with Hardy.

“Yeah. Apparently, she shot and killed Castell
when he tried to attack her again.”

Clark’s throat constricted. He nodded because he
couldn’t speak, and Noah took his gesture as an encouragement to leave.

Clark stood in his doorway for a long-drawn out
moment as images of his bleak future flashed through his mind.

Hardy would kill him. There was no doubt. Failure
on Paul’s part was his death sentence.

The bureau wouldn’t protect him. With Paul dead
and guilty, it would only be a matter of time before Holden followed the trail
back to him. He’d already been suspicious of someone in the department. Sam
would figure out who had tipped off the captain. It might take him some time,
but already he would be working it out in his head.

Clark’s expiration date was up. He had his
choices. Die in a shithole when Hardy’s men found him. Let Holden arrest him
and take his chances in jail.

Or go out his way.

He left the pieces of the coffee mug lying on the
floor as he returned to his office and shut the door.