Craving Justice (Sons of Sydney Book 1)

by Fiona Archer

  Her spirits took a nosedive. Sitting at her father’s table was no joy. “Yes.” Okay, that wasn’t fair. Sienna deserved a happy birthday dinner. “At least I’ll get to see my nephew and niece as well as Sienna and Lance. They’re cute and lovable kids.”

  Seth nodded, his gaze now guarded, not the frank openness she was so used to. “I’m not going to ask you to keep anything from your Dad, but if he asks questions about us.” He broke off, and frowned. “Keep it as brief as possible if you can.”

  Where had that come from? “I don’t share much with my dad, Seth, and never anything that personal.”

  Seth gripped the back of her neck and squeezed. “I guessed as much, but I just want you to be…cautious.” He dipped his head for a quick, hard kiss. “Until Sunday evening, sweetness.”

  She didn’t get a chance to ask what Seth meant as he slipped out the door and jogged down the stairs.

  Harper shut the door and made her way to the living room. She sat on the sofa and nestled Mal close under her chin, his kitty purrs doing little to soothe the tightness invading her body. Something about Seth’s request sounded off. Was he worried she’d inadvertently say something about his investigation? Not that she knew anything ‘top secret’. What could be his concern? And why didn’t he just share that worry outright?

  Those questions sat heavy in her mind the rest of her working day and still niggled hours later when she entered her parent’s Capitol Hill mansion. The heels of her black Jimmy Choos with the caramel colored toe clicked on the hard marble floor, the echo loud in the pristine coldness of the too bright whiteness of the walls. Priceless modern art hung as paintings or stood at attention as a sculpture, as if aware their beauty was there to impress, not entice the viewer.

  “They are all waiting in the dining room, Miss,” a uniformed waiter, not one she recognized, so likely from an agency, advised.

  Great. Even five minutes early she was the last to arrive. She brushed her hands over the black skirt and checked her camel colored top. The batwing sleeves and light, shiny material was comfortable against her skin as she headed toward the back of the house. Cool air caressed her bare neck, soothing her ever-tightening nerves. If the six hundred bobby pins in her hair continued to hold the French knot she’d be happy.

  Muted voices grew louder as she entered the dining room. She glanced around the long rectangular table decorated with a fine arrangement of pink and white flowers and place settings in silverware. No kiddos.

  Her gaze landed on Sienna sitting beside Lance on the opposite side of the table. “Where are Jamie and Becky?”

  “Dad decided he wanted just us adults tonight.” Her sister’s mouth turned down. “He needs to meet with Lance after dinner. It could go late.”

  And their dad couldn’t have had this meeting at the office? God, he was an ass. She refused to look his way lest she say something to completely ruin Sienna’s evening.

  Lance reached over and squeezed Sienna’s hand. “Mom’s with them.” He glanced over at Harper. “They weren’t happy missing out on seeing their favorite aunt. I had to promise a trip to the café for some of your cupcakes.”

  The tall, athletic guy with his requisite short brown hair, square jaw and ambitious attitude may have seemed in some respects a mirror of Stanton Fox, but Lance loved her sister and their kids. Showed it often enough, too. Harper was glad Sienna had found someone who valued her.

  “Absolutely.” She tamped down her disappointment at not seeing the little ones. “Give them a hug and a kiss from me when you get home. I’ll pop around on the weekend some time with treats.” She stopped beside her mother and kissed her perfectly made up cheek. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Harper.” Elizabeth Fox’s smile was warm-ish. She grasped Harper’s hand as she went to move around her mom to hug her sibling. “Henry is about to serve. Take your seat.” Her mom inclined her perfectly sculptured blonde bob toward the chair to her right.

  Harper sighed. Heaven forbid she held up dinner for a second. But, likely Sienna and Lance wanted to get home to the kids without delay. She sent an apologetic glance at her sister and took her seat opposite them. Only then did she turn toward the head of the table. “Dad.”

  He sipped from his white wine. “Harper.” His glance was fleeting, before he looked down at the bowl of soup being placed in front of him. “You came alone.”

  Why was that a surprise? “Don’t I always?”

  A mere flick of his brows signaled his disdain. “Since your love life now merits comment on social media, I thought you’d at least bring the man to meet your mother.”

  Heat flooded her face. God, he had to bring that up here, in front of everyone?

  “Dad.” Sienna’s frown matched the disapproval in her tone.

  Like her dad gave a damn. “Seth’s away on business. And I didn’t think this evening was the best time to introduce him to Mom when it’s Sienna’s night.” She glanced at her mom, hoping for…what, a show of support? She inwardly scoffed. As if.

  Elizabeth Fox had never rushed to her youngest daughter’s defense before. Why start now? And she sure as hell didn’t lower herself to thinking of such tasteless matters as the shaming of her daughter. One simply pretended the event never happened but, at the same time, judged the victim guilty for bringing such attention upon herself.

  By the time dessert had been served, the muscles in Harper’s neck and shoulders were as tight as a coiled spring. It wasn’t that her father had continued his barbs. He’d struck early, cut deep and let the wound fester. Now he simply ignored her like she was an uninvited guest. Each time Harper made a comment on a topic that seconds ago he’d been interested in, he stayed quiet while Sienna and Lance worked overtime to make her feel included.

  She glanced down at the chocolate covered segments of orange artfully arranged around spikes of wafer-thin toffee and Champagne sorbet. Maybe the crispness of the dessert would help cleanse not only her palette but her mood.

  The edge of her spoon grazed the sorbet the moment her father spoke.

  “I hear Seth has been working hard to clear his name.”

  Clear his name?

  She glared at her father. “He’s not a suspect in a crime, Dad.” Her spoon landed on the fine china plate harder than she’d planned, earning an annoyed sigh from her mother. She glanced her way. “Sorry, Mom.” She faced her dad. “He’s working overtime to find whoever’s attacked his family. And when he does, some people will be left with egg on their faces for not supporting him in the first place.”

  Stanton Fox sat farther back in his chair. Only the tic at the side of his jaw showed she had hit her target. His voice was calm and controlled as he said, “Seth’s got his family involved in the hunt.”

  Her dad’s words weren’t formed as a question.

  “Yes. And I wouldn’t want to be up against them.” Harper knew that from first-hand experience.

  “Has he spoken to other law enforcement besides his brother?”

  She went to deny but paused. For one, she didn’t know. And two, why would her dad ask her that?

  “I have no idea, but no one in his family are fools, so I’m guessing they’re canvassing all options.”

  “Nobody’s approached you about your…incident?”

  She frowned. “You mean the cops?”

  “Anyone,” her father answered in a firm voice.

  She waved out a hand, palm upward. “I spoke to Heath, who you know is a detective, but apart from a few questions, no, there’s been nobody else.”

  Her father stared at her a moment. “If anyone contacts you in relation to anything to do with this mess, I want to know.”

  “Why?” Now he was concerned?

  “Because he’s your father, and he’s anxious for you. Following his wishes isn’t too much to ask is it?” her mom asked.

  Aware of Sienna and Lance sitting opposite, and not wanting to share anything further, Harper shrugged. “Fine, I’ll let Dad know.” Maybe. She added to herself. But serious
ly, what was the likelihood of any more of this mess involving her?

  And now her dad was all worried about her welfare? What was that all about?

  Her silver spoon glinted under the lights as she cut through the softening sorbet and popped it in her mouth.

  Then the stark truth hit her, stealing her breath. She swallowed her mouthful of sorbet, not even noticing the taste.

  A person showed concern by their actions.

  Seth had organized for cameras to be installed at her home, risking her anger and not backing down. He did so because her safety mattered. To him.

  Her dad, on the other hand, had done…nothing.

  Was she a horrible person for making the comparison?

  Possibly. But at least she wasn’t a fool.

  So why did her dad want to know if anyone, especially law enforcement, had contacted her?

  And why was Seth concerned about what she’d tell her dad?

  She wouldn’t get any answers, at least on the latter, until Seth returned on Sunday.

  Dammit. She stabbed an orange segment with a dessert fork. The sooner Seth and his brothers caught the creep making the posts the better for everyone.

  ****

  Harper wasn’t sure what woke her up, but the instant her eyes opened, her body tensed beneath the sheets. She heard a faint click of her front door then the soft tread on the polished wood of her hallway.

  Her stomach clenched.

  There it was again. A footstep. Definitely. Someone inside her home. An intruder. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  She glanced down at the foot of the bed where Mal continued to sleep soundly. Slowly, so, so slowly, she moved the sheet from her body. She couldn’t just lie there and wait. Rising up on one elbow, she eased her knee over the side of the bed, and—

  The shrill bleat of her phone shattered the tense silence into tiny shards as she screamed.

  “Harper,” Nitro shouted from inside her apartment. A loud crash was followed by a thump as something heavy thudded against the wall of the hallway. She snatched up the phone and saw Heath’s caller ID.

  “Heath.” She answered, jumping from the bed, and searching for something to defend herself with. The softball bat. Digging through her closet, she found the scuffed piece of metal and raced out of her room, slamming the door behind her to keep Mal safe. She yelled into her phone. “Help. There’s someone in my apartment.” In the hall, she saw two men, one of them Nitro, grappling with each other as they fell into her living room. “Nitro’s fighting some guy.”

  “A patrol car is on the way. I got the alarm on my phone.” Heath’s controlled tone sounded so steady amidst the chaos around her. “Where are you?”

  “In my living room.” She gripped her phone between her shoulder and ear as she clutched the bat and circled the men fighting, waiting for her opportunity to help.

  “Go into your bedroom and lock the door.”

  She ignored Heath’s order. How could she leave Nitro? A tall man, big and chunky, in sweats and a black T-shirt, drew back his glove-covered fist and slammed it into Nitro’s face. Her friend fell back, knocking his head on a side table as he went down. Blood poured down over his face as he lay moaning on the ground.

  Oh my God. But she couldn’t get to Nitro. Not with the prowler in the way.

  She tossed the phone onto a chair and grasped the bat with both hands, raising it high as the intruder turned and faced her. She screamed at the skull mask on his face—the shape elongated, one she recognized from a horror movie franchise—and swung the bat, catching the guy on his shoulder.

  Cursing, he jumped back.

  The sound of approaching sirens cut through the night.

  “Harper!” Heath’s urgent shout from the phone was soon lost as Ryan’s angry yell came from outside her front doorway. His face appeared seconds before the intruder charged past her and through the front door, knocking Nitro’s roommate to the floor.

  The doctor sprang to his feet and glanced at Harper. “You hurt?”

  “No,” she scooped up her phone and ran to her friend. “But Nitro was hit on the head.”

  Ryan crouched in front of Nitro, grasped his head in both hands and studied the injury, gently prodding the area. “A gash. Looks okay.”

  Relief poured through Harper. She sank to her knees beside her friends.

  “Head wounds bleed heavy.” Ryan ripped his T-shirt over his head and held it to Nitro’s wound. “Put pressure on it.”

  She followed his orders as Ryan raced back outside. Needing to reassure her friend, she strove for a calm voice. “You’re going to be okay, honey.” Nitro gave a small nod and winced. Her throat tightened. What about concussion? Please let him be all right. She held Ryan’s T-shirt with one hand and lifted her phone to her ear. “Heath, the intruder’s run away. I think Ryan’s after him.”

  “No, I’m guessing Ryan’s downstairs, waiting to let us in as per Adam’s instructions. He rang the guys while I rang you.” Heath answered, his voice sounding jumpy, as if he was running. “I’m seconds away, honey. Just stay on the line with me, okay?”

  “Okay.” She hated the tremor in her voice. Fall apart later. “Nitro and I are just sitting here, hanging out.” Her heart clenched at the wry smile on her childhood friend’s face.

  The drumming of footsteps sounded on the stairs. Heath, followed by two uniformed cops ran through her apartment’s open front doorway. Her shoulders sagged in relief. Heath issued orders to the now growing number of officers and holstered his weapon. Confident and commanding, he had the scene locked down in seconds, all the while keeping a close eye on her and Nitro.

  He leaned down. “Hey, honey, how about we make room for the paramedics?”

  “Of course,” Harper said as Heath gently lifted her to her feet. They stood to the side as two paramedics entered with their kits and proceeded to examine Nitro.

  Heath kept his arm around her as he led her to the wing-backed chair. “Sit down.” So often a solace for her reading, right now the plump, sage green chair seemed to isolate her, keep her away from Nitro. And she so desperately wanted to sit with him, check that he was okay. A glance across to her dining table showed Ryan was talking to a cop who took notes.

  The paramedics asked questions of Nitro, who replied in a low, but thankfully strong voice. That was something at least.

  “Harper.” Heath crouched down in front of her. “Would you like a glass of water or a coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” She gripped her phone tight in her hand. “I’m guessing Ryan didn’t catch the guy.”

  “No. He escaped via the back alley.”

  And he could be out there. Watching. Waiting to come back.

  Heath’s warm hand gently squeezed her knee. “You okay to answer a few questions?”

  Get it together, Harper. She nodded. “Sure.”

  The big detective’s watchful gaze studied her face. “Can you describe the intruder?”

  “Tall.” Taller than Nitro. “At least six two. And big. He was strong.” And mean. He’d hurt her friend. Maybe would have hurt her. She shivered. “He looked at me, but I only saw the mask. A skull. All stretched lengthways, like that horror film.”

  Heath nodded and checked a glance with a female officer who was standing next to Harper and writing in a small notebook. Harper jumped. She hadn’t even heard the cop get close. Heath asked, “What else can you tell us?”

  She faced him again. “Everything happened so quickly.” Less than a minute at most. “I heard a click.” The front door being opened. “And a footstep. Then you called, and Nitro shouted my name. I saw the guys fighting and grabbed my softball bat.” She lifted her shoulders before letting them fall with a defeated sigh. “I didn’t get time to see or do much at all.”

  “The opening of your building’s back door sent an alert to my phone, and the camera feed showed the guy coming up the stairs.” Heath’s jaw clenched. “Adam called through to dispatch and then called the guys upstairs. I headed here.” He rubbed
a hand over her knee. “Thank God I was close by, but Jenny here was only a block away.”

  The female officer gave Harper a reassuring smile.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly.” While Ryan’s arrival had played a part in dissuading the intruder from staying, hearing the sirens was extra motivation for him to run. For Harper, knowing the cops were close by was a comfort, too.

  “I’ll see what my partner has and get back to you, Detective.” She nodded to Heath and moved to join the officer who was still talking to Ryan.

  “You haven’t had any fights with anyone recently, no angry customers, business contacts?” Heath asked. “Anyone who’d want to hurt you?”

  “No.” She couldn’t think of a single person who’d want to break in on purpose. “And surely there’s got to be easier places to burgle than this building?”

  Judging from the frown on Heath’s face, he agreed.

  A thought pushed through the fog in her head. “Adam rang Nitro and Ryan?”

  Heath nodded. “Seth passed their numbers to us, remember?”

  Seth. She reached out to grab Heath’s hands. “I have to call him. He’ll get a message and worry.”

  Heath grimaced. “That ship’s sailed, luv. I’m betting Adam’s on the phone to him right now. Seth will likely be calling you any second. Adam will be here within the next twenty minutes. He’s bunking at my place.”

  Just as Heath finished, her phone buzzed. Caller ID said Seth. She tapped her phone. “Handsome, I’m okay. Just a bit of excitement for my Saturday night.”

  “Harper, tell me Heath’s there with you?” Seth’s voice was strained with worry.

  “He’s right here in front of me.” She gave a small smile to Heath, who nodded and rose, heading to Nitro and giving her some privacy.

  Seth’s sigh sounded loud in her ear. “Sweetness, when Adam called—” He broke off.

  “I know, but the guy didn’t get a hand on me.”

  Seth’s curse was muffled as he moved the phone. “Tell me what happened.”

  She gave a quick recount, ending with, “Nitro rushed down and the jerk punched him. He fell and cut his head. The paramedics are here now, checking him over.” She glanced over at her friend, who now sported a big square bandage on his forehead.