McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two

by Reily Garrett

  The compulsion to drive the knife’s blade into Carrigan’s chest for killing Gena, Wendy, and the professor made her drop it. The subtle clink reinstated a part of her sanity, the insight that murder didn’t bring peace of mind.

  “We need him alive to make sure he doesn’t have a partner.” Appealing to Billy’s emotional and logical sides, Remie shoved to her feet and stepped forward to grab his arm mid swing. “Billy, no. You can’t kill him.” Darrin’s arrogance in laying out his plan ensured all could be contained, but assuming Billy hadn’t heard the conversation, he wouldn’t know there weren’t others in league with the madness.

  Fury burned in his gaze. Cold, compelling, and driven by a need to expel the underlying fear. “Watch me.”

  “No. Listen. We need him alive.”

  His eldest brother grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back. Carrigan slumped to the floor.

  Caden helped a now conscious Katt into the room. “Someone said she wanted to be present for the action.” The corner of Caden’s lips twitched when Katt stepped forward. Matt turned her into his chest and folded her in his arms. “Damn it, you could have been killed.”

  Remie took advantage of Billy’s distraction, taking his fist and pressing the bloody knuckles against her chest. He stilled.

  “I thought I’d lost you. For the love of God, Remie, don’t ever do that to me again. I won’t survive.” Billy held her at arms’ length.

  Uncertainty kept his hands on her shoulders until she pushed forward, needing the contact, warmth, and stability. “Not planning on it.” A brief glance at Katt and she added, “Are you okay?” What she could see of Katt’s shirt hung in tatters.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Did they…?” Matt couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “No.” The girls answered in unison.

  “Damn, old man. You move pretty fast.” Katt buried her face against Matt’s chest.

  “Yeah, and don’t you forget it.” He left off the kid. The way his arms held her had nothing to do with childish relationships.

  “Where are the two thugs who grabbed us?” Remie asked.

  “Tied up, Lucas is entertaining them, probably rifling through their pockets and phones.” With tongue in cheek, Caden looked anywhere but at Matt. The silence grew. “Hey, he’s not a cop, and he’s a curious guy.”

  Slouched in the corner, Carrigan moaned.

  “Billy, you take the K out of here. I can’t leave two PIs alone with the dirtballs, and your solutions generally entail explosions.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Remie smiled at the family gathered in her backyard. Each McAllister sat by his other half, with Abby sitting next to Royden. Matt and Billy had brought an extra picnic table, deciding the setting perfect for family BBQs. Both tables held bowls of cornbread, cucumber tomato salad, fresh fruit, and four tins of assorted pies.

  Mild daytime temperatures combined with the changing leaves added a peaceful aura to the scene she wanted engraved in her memories. Weeks had passed since Billy ended her nightmare, replacing it with a companionship she prayed would last a lifetime. Aside from their regular family get-togethers, evenings remained her favorite time.

  The lumpectomy scar had healed to leave a permanent reminder of what might have been. A hard-earned battle scar. Billy called it her badge of courage. The nature of her cancer’s beginning skewed the prediction of her future, but the type of cells were slow growing, and she’d only been infected a short while. Both Ari and her surgeon assured her the chance of it having spread amounted to a fraction of a percent. Nothing in life is certain.

  Billy cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present. “Remie, you okay?”

  “Yeah…I’m just grateful to be a part of such a wonderful family.”

  His half-grin warmed her from the inside out. He well understood his effect.

  “It’s a damn good thing you didn’t trip over Carrigan’s goons earlier, like at the lab.” Matt redirected everyone’s attention as he jabbed his spatula in Katt’s direction, using it to emphasize his point before flipping a burger on the grill.

  “Give me some credit. The goons found my information when they rifled through Ari’s home-office files. If not for him, they never would have found me.”

  “We’d thought Ari’s partner was behind it all.” Remie shook her head, mahogany locks sifting on the gentle breeze.

  “Ari was trying to look out for you, and his partner paid the price.” Billy rubbed under Buckeye’s chin when the dog chuffed and rubbed against his thigh. As usual, Holly perched in his lap, content and purring.

  “That asshole at Biobotics wanted Ari bad enough he would’ve used or killed anybody. Christ, I’ll have nightmares about a mad doc sticking manufactured brains in my skull for the next ten years.” Caden stood and carried an empty platter over to Matt, who piled it with burgers and hotdogs.

  “You wouldn’t have found us if Matt hadn’t snuck the tracker in my backpack.” Katt grinned at Matt, who took a seat beside her.

  “You knew I’d done it, hadn’t you?” Matt snatched a hot dog and dropped it on his plate before passing the rest along.

  “From the time you put it there. I didn’t take it out because I figured if I got into trouble, you’d know where to find me.”

  “I didn’t see any cash withdraws from Ari’s accounts, so we had no way of knowing where your pay originated.” Lexi smiled apologetically. Sitting beside her, Ethan patted her thigh.

  “Hon, everyone’s crystal ball breaks at some point.” Ethan’s furtive glance toward Abby betrayed his shame.

  “Hey. Enough of this shit! I am not made of glass. Granted, I’ve gone through a rough time, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let any of you shoulder the guilt. You got that, guys?” Abby stared at each one in turn, her determination to reset their way of thinking written in lowered brows and hostile determination.

  Each man looked away, unable to hold her gaze. It was Billy’s answer that proved the last straw. “We should’ve seen it coming. We are responsible, Abs.”

  The retort came in the form of blueberry pie spattering his neck and chest. Clumps of filling and crust stuck in his hair and dribbled down his shirt.

  No one spoke.

  Kaylee, sitting beside Caden, pulled out her cell and snapped several shots.

  “That’s my girl. Always prepared.” Caden leaned over to give her a kiss.

  With his jaw hanging open, Billy wiped his face but smeared the filling when trying to brush it off. Instead, he gave up and stuffed a gob in his mouth.

  A small giggle escaped Abby’s clenched lips. Matt and Royden’s guffaws followed chortles from the rest.

  “You guys don’t get to treat me like glass ever again. If you try, I know a damn good baker and I make enough money to ruin all your clothes. Got it?”

  Royden held his hand out and Abby took it. The gratitude revealed in her expression echoed in each man.

  “I take back every bad thing I ever said about you, Royden, even though being your partner is a pain in the ass. But if you ever make reference to this or woodpeckers again, I will beat you to a pulp.”

  “Huh, you can try.”

  Remie sat on the sofa beside Billy and handed him a beer. “It was nice—us getting together, even nicer that everyone helped clean up before leaving.”

  “Think you can put up with my family? Each one is a pain in their own right but always willing to help when you need them.”

  “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

  “Now you have one. But we have something else to discuss.” The seriousness etched in his face forewarned of a difficult discussion.

  “I know. We have a return appointment. Everybody wants to study my breasts.”

  “Hey, let’s be mindful of how you word that… yes? Regardless of the outcome, we’ll face it together. I’ll be right beside you all the way.”

  “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I thank God every day.” She didn�
�t want to talk about cancer or possible treatments, so turned the focus outward. “Looks like Abby is regrouping.” She wasn’t sure of the wisdom of bringing up a sore subject but decided she wasn’t the only one with demons needing an exorcism. “She’s right, you know.”

  “What?”

  “You all have carried the guilt, but you’re not responsible for her leaving the courthouse without a guard. She made that choice. One I know she’ll regret every day for the rest of her life.”

  “I know. I also think Royden is good for her. She’s getting a bit of her inner strength back each day.” Billy linked his fingers through her own and rested them on his thigh.

  “It’s why you haven’t touched me since Katt and I were kidnapped. You know the bastards didn’t rape us.”

  “But you knew the intent. I don’t want to trigger—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Remie stood, unlinking their hands. “Have your feelings for me changed?”

  “They’ve grown, just like other things.” He tilted his hips up in proof.

  “Good.” Straddling his lap brought Billy’s hands up to caress her waist. “Then it’s about time you show me. Don’t you think?”

  The smile spreading across his face brought a welcoming smile to her own. This was the completion for which her soul cried out, the man fate declared her other half.

  Leaning forward, she brushed her lips across his firmer ones, determined to feel heaven on earth in his arms again…

  The End

  This is the second boxed set of three for this series. It’s fine to read them out of order, but if you’d like to catch up with Lexi’s beginning, check out the McAllister Justice Series, Box set one. Click here.

  Scroll further for an excerpt to Shattered Reflections, the next in the McAllister Justice Series.

  A Note from the Author

  Sept. 07, 2008 – Dec. 16, 2017

  I was asked why, when the book is dedicated to Leyna, I didn’t give her a more prominent role. My reply centered on Leyna herself.

  Her presence, like so many furry creatures who have human companions, was more of a steady, omnipresent kind of element. Not overpowering, not heroic in the strictest sense of the word, but more honest and raw than a human can achieve.

  To those that enjoy this most treasured connection, cherish every second. Furball companions bring much love and laughter to our lives while filling the voids in our soul we don’t know exist.

  RIP Snow Angel.

  Shattered Reflections

  Next in series.

  Indistinct shadows slithered along the ground to capture Denny’s attention, their fluid movements chipping away at his prospects for survival. The long-abandoned playground had inspired a certain insipid blandness during daylight, so contrary to the invisible fingers now tapping out death’s toll along his vertebrae. Its steady beat echoed the blood roaring in his ears. The few minutes of procrastination at the building’s corner permitted observation of the men waiting to greet him.

  “About time you showed up. We’ve been standing here with our thumbs up our asses. Damned ironic you’d select this abandoned school… a nerd to the last thread.” Condescension entwined with impatience forced a new sentiment to infiltrate the atmosphere. One not associated with that voice in prior years.

  “Larry? The past decade has been kind to you. Where’s Mitch?” Denny swallowed hard and stepped farther from the building’s dubious concealment. Fragmented swaths of moonlight playing hide-and-seek with the clouds illuminated his contact’s eyes, narrow and calculating.

  “Right here, D. Didn’t want you spooked by the desolate setting.” Mitch’s attire matched his counterpart with the exception of the long trench coat. Leather wings flapped about his calves in the strengthening breeze. The larger shadow glided on the extension of arrogance to stand abreast of Larry.

  Years of disuse and neglect splintered paint on the once colorful roundabout separating him from whatever fate awaited them. The thick metal disk had warped over time, its handles covered with rust and bird droppings. Decades ago, he’d played on this very structure with these men who’d shared his childhood dreams. His girlfriend had suggested the location to rekindle old feelings.

  Long leather jacket in late August. He’s concealing weapons. “Why would I feel spooked among friends?” Swelling anxiety more accurately descried the gnarled, twisting apprehension snaking through his gut.

  “Hmm.” Larry latched onto the u-shaped bar and gave the carousel a spin, the kaleidoscope of tainted colors blurring, distracting. “You’re not exactly the corporate spy type. Do you have the finished formulas? My contacts are anxious to measure the devastation and parameters of your weapon.”

  “It’s not on me. You were supposed to bring cash, and yet I see no duffle bag.” Denny back-stepped, his intuition warning him to placate the predators while assembling a plan B. The hunters knew his nerdy brain compartmentalized data in neat little boxes, so might anticipate his moves.

  “Cash is in the van. Shall we? I’m ready for a vacay on some sunny, remote island in the South Pacific.” Larry extended his right arm to indicate the lone vehicle along the deserted road behind him. “After you’ve inspected the payment, give us what we came for, and we part ways.”

  They intend to kill me. “Sounds good. I’m ready to leave these shores and never look back.”

  Larry nodded his agreement.

  Mitch’s flehmen reaction mimicked a horse’s curling upper lip exposing straight white teeth, the difference being a slight whistle instead of a deep inhalation. The swath of black hair escaping its elastic and drifting across his face couldn’t conceal the innate evil dwelling within his gaze. Decades of hard living had molded the bygone acquaintance into a formidable brick wall. They’d grown up brutal and remorseless.

  “Now, you’ll be a rich man able to go anywhere and do anything you want. I should’ve known you’d find a way to weaponize the generation of liquid solar fuel.” Mitch scanned the perimeter, his restless gaze taking in everything, dissecting, qualifying, evaluating.

  “It wasn’t my intention from the beginning.” His audible gulp boomed in his ears.

  Caught in the shadows like a mouse awaiting the falcon to swoop low and spear him with sharp talons, Denny expected the hounds of hell to descend when the grind-squeak of the carousel pitched lower then fell silent. The toy of old coming to rest signaled the time for loitering over. He should have purchased a gun.

  All remained quiet.

  Hesitant steps carried no sound and circumvented the obstacle. He stopped outside of Larry’s reach.

  “Let’s go.” Mitch’s sly murmur crackled in the silent night.

  Frigid chunks of icy fear formed a barrier between thought and action. It wasn’t until falling into step behind Larry that a defensive strategy began to form. Like the squid skirting the jaws of a hungry shark, he’d propel himself just out of reach.

  Mitch paced him from behind, staying outside of striking distance. Neither predator would expect the mollusk to grow such sharp teeth.

  Unlike modern jungle gyms constructed from sturdy resins, PVC, and rope—metal pipes and plank wood shaped the old fortress which had filled his life with adventure so long ago. Decay and termites weakened the castle to the point several rotten stakes lay strewn in grass long overdue a trim.

  A vestige of innate self-preservation forced Denny to dive for a wooden picket once part of the balcony’s railing as a whoosh sounded overhead.

  Mitch’s hands closed on thin air.

  The hyperextension of two fingers didn’t alter Denny’s focus despite pain shooting into his hand. Gymnastics had never been the nerd’s strong suit, but his southpaw grip on the crude weapon held tight through his tumble. Timeworn and jagged, it made the perfect lightweight weapon, a spear.

  Fear focused his attention on the final outcome. Survival. He could feel it now, the hate that flowed from old friends. It tasted foul on the back of his tongue and coiled low in his belly.

>   A snort of disbelief escaped Mitch after the clumsy evasive maneuver. “Death doesn’t have to be slow and painful, but I can make it that way.” Moonlight gleamed off the blade extending from his hand, slicing the atmosphere in a figure-eight motion. “You were never one to buck fate. Why start now?”

  A subdued guffaw from Larry preceded the admonition, “Not until we get the details, Mitch.” Cold, clipped words, so foreign to his previous demeanor.

  “Not in this lifetime, you shits.” A snap kick to Mitch’s knee yielded a satisfying crunch and gasp along with his blade dropping to the ground.

  “Ahhh...” As the leg buckled, Mitch windmilled his arms for counterbalance. Shock mingled with anguish hardened his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut.

  In a daring move belying lack of fitness, Denny jammed the jagged edge of wood into Mitch’s stomach, both relieved and horrified with the resultant blood spilled. Crimson rivulets defined gravity’s path, following a line of least resistance over shaking hands as Denny stifled dry heaves. The sour taste of vomit filled his mouth. He was a chemist, not a contract killer.

  Mitch grabbed the picket, preventing further insertion and tearing of his bowels, his face a mask of hatred, rage, and promise of revenge. Like sociopaths, he viewed laws as basic guidelines.

  Larry started forward but crashed to the ground with a forceful leg sweep. The horrific scene solidified into a future nightmare even as Denny reached for the discarded blade and stood. It flitted through his slippery fingers twice before he locked it tight in his grasp.

  “Pricks. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. Now, you’ll get nothing. I have another buyer lined up.”

  Larry jumped to his feet and circled to approach his partner who balanced on one leg and clutched the crude spike impaling his gut. “Fool. You’ll never live to spend a cent. We have the backing to track you anywhere, through any country.”