Christmas Justice

by Robin Perini

  The question repeated over and over in her mind. She knew better than most people how easy it was to track virtually anyone down. Biting her lip, she hurried into the bedroom and wrapped the blankets around Molly. There was no telling where they’d end up.

  Molly squirmed a bit. “Aunt Laurel?” she whispered.

  “Go back to sleep, Molly Magoo.”

  “I had a bad, bad dream,” she said.

  “I’ve got you,” Laurel whispered. “I won’t let you go.” She hugged Molly tight, humming a few bars of “Hush, Little Baby.” Thankfully, Molly snuggled closer, yawned and settled back to sleep.

  Laurel exited the bedroom, hurrying to the garage door. It squeaked and she paused, praying Molly wouldn’t wake up.

  Her niece didn’t budge. The dim garage light shone down. Garrett shoved a few last boxes into the back of his SUV and opened the back door, a tender expression when he looked at the sleeping girl in Laurel’s arms pushing aside the intensity of just a moment ago. “You better do it. Better if she sleeps.”

  Laurel gently settled Molly onto the backseat, snapping the seat belt around her.

  Garrett closed the door, his movements almost too quiet to hear. “Watch her. I’m going to wipe the house down.”

  Laurel gave him a quick nod and he disappeared into the house. When he returned, he stuffed a microfiber cloth into his jacket pocket, hit the garage-door opener and slid into the SUV beside her. “Fingerprints would make it too easy for them,” he said. “You’re on file with the FBI because of your clearance, and so am I.”

  With a quick turn of the key in the truck, the engine purred to life. He quickly doused the automatic lights and pulled out slowly.

  After pressing the outside code, the garage door slid down. The house appeared vacant again.

  Laurel looked through the windshield, right, then left, then behind. Tension shivered between them.

  Garrett maneuvered onto the deserted street, still without headlights. Trouble had gone to sleep. He didn’t plan on anyone waking up as they left town.

  He didn’t need lights to see anyway. The church auxiliary had gone and wrapped every lamppost and streetlight with garland and twinkle lights, ribbon and tinsel. With each gust of wind the decorations clattered against metal, leaving his neck tense and his hair standing on end.

  He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. God, he hated Christmas. Hated the memories it evoked. But at least the bulbs lit their way through Trouble.

  “Where are we going?” Laurel asked, still alert and searching the surrounding landscape for anything out of the ordinary.

  “The middle of nowhere,” Garrett said. “Even though some consider Trouble just this side of nowhere.”

  The vehicle left the city limits, only a black expanse in front of them. This part of West Texas could seem like the end of the world at night, the only light the moon and stars above.

  “They’ll keep looking for us,” Laurel said. “They want us dead.”

  “No question.” Garrett watched the rearview mirror, but no lights pierced the black Texas night. So far, so good.

  Laurel shifted in her seat beside him, peering out the front windshield. “It’s so—”

  “Dark?” Garrett finished.

  She glanced over at him, her face barely visible from the light of the dashboard dials. “I’ve never seen the sky so black.”

  “When I first moved here from the East Coast, I couldn’t get over how bright the stars shone or how dark the countryside could be.”

  “You didn’t grow up around here?”

  Garrett quirked a smile. “I was an army brat. I’m from everywhere, but we were never stationed in Texas.”

  Laurel’s eyebrow quirked up. “I’d have taken you for a Texas cowboy.”

  “I was for a while.”

  But not anymore.

  Garrett focused on the white lines of the road reflecting in the moonlight. No lights for miles around. The tension in his back eased a bit. They were alone.

  “It’s spooky,” Laurel said, her voice barely a whisper. “No sign of civilization.”

  “You lived on the East Coast all your life?” he asked.

  “Dad’s job has always been headquartered in D.C. He’d leave town...” Her voice choked. “Someone has to know where he was,” she said.

  Garrett had been mulling that over. James had been his sole contact since Garrett’s attack. He had no backup. No one he could trust.

  “What about Fiona?” Laurel’s voice broke through the night.

  “You know about her?”

  “I’m not supposed to. Dad tried to keep his personal life separate, but a few years ago, we caught them at a restaurant. They looked really happy. I’m surprised he hasn’t married her. From what we figured out, he’s dated her for at least five years.”

  “More like six,” Garrett said. “Though I’m surprised he took her out into public. They work together. That was a huge risk.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fiona might be the only person we can trust. She could get at his travel records.”

  “She could get him backup.” Laurel flipped open a cell phone. “He needs help.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s prepaid,” she said. “I’m not stupid.”

  Garrett snatched the phone from her. “Not from here. I have equipment we can use to call her. It’s more secure. For both of us. We don’t want to place her in danger either.”

  “Dad needs help now.”

  “James either made it out of that situation alive and is hiding, or there’s nothing we can do to help him.”

  A small gasp escaped from her. Garrett cursed himself, lowering his voice. “Look, I don’t mean to be callous, but your dad wanted you safe. That meant more to him than his life or he wouldn’t have called. We have to be careful, Laurel. We’re alone in this right now, and we have to choose our allies carefully. One slipup...” He let the words go unsaid.

  One mistake and they’d finish the job on him and Laurel and Molly would vanish without a trace.

  “I understand,” she said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t have to like it.” She twisted in her seat. “So, this place we’re going... How’d you get a secure system?”

  “Your dad set it up while I was...incapacitated.”

  Almost dead.

  A small dirt road loomed at the right. Garrett passed it by, drove another ten miles, then pulled off onto a county road heading toward a mine.

  “Are we getting close?”

  “As close as things get in West Texas,” Garrett said. He turned off the lights and the motor. The residual heat would keep them warm for a while.

  “We’re stopping? We’re not that far from town.”

  Garrett leaned back in his seat and turned his head. “We’re waiting. If your tail followed, they should show up soon enough.”

  Thirty minutes later, the air in the vehicle had chilled. Molly whined in the backseat, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. Garrett cast one last look down the desolate road, then turned the key, and the engine purred to life. He pulled onto the highway, heading back in the direction they’d come.

  “You’re cautious,” Laurel said.

  “I’m alive when I shouldn’t be.” Words more true than he could ever articulate.

  “Who are you? Really.” She shifted and moonlight illuminated her suspicious expression. “Why did Ivy send me to you?”

  The tires vibrated over the blacktop. Garrett refused to let the question distract him. The men following her were good, and he couldn’t risk them being seen. Besides, he couldn’t tell her. He knew James wouldn’t have mentioned his new identity, and if Garrett revealed his previous name, she’d recognize it. As a traitor and a spy.

  James had given testimony about Garrett’s many infractions. The world had believed the agency’s statements. Congress and the covert community trusted James McCallister. Without fail. He might not be a man the public would ever recogni
ze, but in the intelligence community, James McCallister was a legend. The man’s lies had saved Garrett’s life. And made it so he could never go back. Not unless he wanted a target on his back.

  Laurel would have every right to run once she learned the truth, but he couldn’t allow that. James’s call had done more than warn them. James had risked Garrett’s life—and his own—to save the McCallister family. Garrett wouldn’t let him down. He owed James too much. He owed the men who had killed his wife and daughter, Laurel’s sister and her family—and maybe James—justice. Not courtroom justice, though. The kind that couldn’t be bought or bargained for.

  “Let’s call me a friend and leave it at that,” Garrett finally said. “A friend who will try to keep you safe.”

  “A friend,” Laurel mused. “Why doesn’t your comment engender me with faith?”

  Garrett gripped the steering wheel tight.

  “You came to me, Laurel.”

  “And if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be putting our lives in the hands of someone I don’t know if I can trust to keep us alive. I like to have all the facts, all the data. You don’t add up, Sheriff Garrett Galloway. And that makes me nervous.”

  What could he say? Her words thrust a sword into his heart. He hadn’t been good enough to protect his family. He hadn’t seen the true risks when he’d followed up on a small leak at the agency. That one thread had led to their deaths.

  Within minutes, the small dirt road appeared. He veered the SUV onto it, the narrow lanes barely visible. The farther they drove in, the bumpier it got. And the more the tension in his chest eased.

  Soon they’d started a climb into the Guadalupe Mountains. Leafless branches scraped the sides of the vehicle. Before too long an outcropping of rock blocked their way.

  Relieved that the county hadn’t seen fit to clear the debris off the glorified cow path, Garrett backed the vehicle into a small clearing. Branches closed over the windshield, barricading them in.

  With a sigh he shoved the gear into Park.

  “Waiting again?” Laurel asked. “I can’t imagine anyone would follow us here.”

  “The rest of the way to the cattle ranch is on foot. I didn’t want the place to be too easy to find.”

  “I’m known for my sense of direction and I studied the terrain, but even I’m not sure I could find my way here.”

  “That was the point of buying it,” Garrett said. He pressed a button on his watch and the face lit up. “Several hours until daylight. To dangerous to go by foot. One wrong move and we step into nothing and down a two-hundred-foot drop.” He reached behind his seat and pulled out a blanket and pillow, thrusting them at her. “Get some rest. When the sun comes up, we’ll hike the rest of the way.”

  “We’ll start the search for my father tomorrow?” she pressed, taking the pillow and holding it close to her chest. “I can help. I have my own contacts.”

  He nodded, but he had his doubts. Laurel might be a gifted analyst, but the moment they ran a few searches, whoever was behind this would start backtracking. Garrett might not know the names of the traitors, but he knew a few dollar amounts. It was in the billions. Too much money was involved for them not to be tracking. Loyalty shouldn’t be for sale, but it was.

  Which was why Ivy was dead.

  Damn it. Garrett should have come out of hiding sooner. He shouldn’t have listened to James. He’d wanted to believe his old mentor was close. He’d wanted to believe justice was in their grasp.

  “Try to sleep,” he said. “Light will come soon.”

  Laurel snuggled down under the blanket. Garrett shifted his seat back a bit. He’d slept in far worse places.

  His hand reached for his weapon. He had to find a way to end this thing. Not only for his family, but before Laurel and Molly paid the price their family had.

  The question was how.

  James had obviously slipped up.

  Garrett couldn’t afford to.

  A small sigh of sleep escaped from the woman beside him. He tilted his head toward Laurel.

  Her blue eyes blinked at him.

  “Are we going to get out of this alive?” she whispered. “Truth.”

  “I don’t know.”

  * * *

  THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS decorating every damn corner in Trouble, Texas, twinkled with irritating randomness. Strickland’s eye twitched. He leaned forward toward the steering wheel as far as he could and still maneuver the vehicle.

  He passed by the sheriff’s house for the fifteenth time.

  Still dark, still deserted.

  Headlights illuminated a house ahead.

  Strickland whipped the steering wheel and turned down a side street to avoid the deputy crawling all over town. He plowed through a mailbox. With a curse he righted the car.

  “Face it,” Krauss said, propping his leather work shoe against the dash. “We lost them.”

  “We can’t,” Strickland muttered. “She has to die. Her and the kid.”

  He made his way to Main and pressed the gas pedal. Trouble was a dead end. The SUV shot ahead. The deserted streets of the small town slipped past. They headed into the eerie pitch blackness of the desert without headlights to light the way.

  “We have to tell the boss that the McCallister woman is alive, Mike. There’s no way we can keep it a secret.”

  “We still have another day or two,” Strickland argued, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Just the thought made his chest hurt. His pulse picked up speed. He knew what the boss would do. What had been done to others.

  “Too risky. If we come clean—”

  “We’re dead.”

  Strickland’s phone rang.

  He yanked the steering wheel and nearly drove off the road. Cursing, he straightened the vehicle.

  The glowing screen on the phone turned into a beacon in the night.

  Krauss shoved it at Strickland. “It’s the boss.”

  “How—?” He pressed the call button. “Strickland.” He forced his voice to sound confident, arrogant.

  “The car made the papers,” his boss said. “The coroner believes the family died. Well done.”

  “Thank you.” A shiver tickled the back of his neck, as if a black-widow spider had crawled up the base of his skull.

  “I have another job for you. It’s important.”

  A string of curses flooded through Strickland’s brain. Another job. He had to finish this one first. He couldn’t leave it undone. “Of course.”

  “Two years ago. Another car bomb. Another family. You were in charge.”

  Strickland remembered it well. No mistakes that time. He’d earned the boss’s trust on that job.

  “Our target is alive.”

  Strickland slammed the brakes. The car skidded to a halt. “What?”

  “You told me he was dead.”

  “He wasn’t breathing. No way he could have survived those burns.” Strickland pulled at his hair. God, a mistake. No. He jumped out of the SUV and paced the pavement. His hand shook as he gripped the phone. Mistakes weren’t tolerated. Ever.

  “Well, he did. I’m taking care of that loose end. I want you to finish the job. Make certain this time.”

  Strickland turned on his heel and glared at the twinkling lights of Trouble. He was so screwed. “I’ll find him. You can count on me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  His heart thudded against his chest; his stomach rolled. Bile burned his throat.

  “I’ll search for him. He can’t hide.”

  “He’s not living under his real name.”

  Krauss rounded the vehicle. Maybe they could split up. It was the only way either man would make it off this assignment alive.

  “How do I find him?”

  “Your target is Sheriff Garrett Galloway. Trouble, Texas. Kill him this time, Strickland. Be very sure he’s dead.”

  Strickland met Krauss’s wide-eyed gaze. He’d heard the words. His partner shook his head in disbelief.

  “Oh, and, Strickland? This is you
r last chance. One more less-than-adequate performance and you’ll pray your life will end well before I allow it.”

  * * *

  A SLIVER OF SUN peeked over the horizon, the light pricking Laurel awake. She blinked. The muted blue of the winter sky through the windshield brightened with each passing moment. Her cheek pressed against the leather seat. Awareness of the past week washed over her, drowning her in grief.

  Ivy, her family. Her father.

  Molly.

  She jerked her head to one side, then the other, her gaze finally resting on Molly’s sweet face.

  “She’s hasn’t stirred,” Garrett whispered, his voice low and husky.

  Laurel longed to reach out and cuddle her niece, to touch her, to be certain. Molly’s pink cheeks were just visible at the edge of the blanket; a small frown tugged at her mouth.

  “No nightmares?” Laurel asked, shifting in her seat, combing her hair back from her face with her fingers.

  “A few whimpers in the middle of the night. She’s obviously exhausted.”

  “She can’t wrap her mind around what happened.” Laurel avoided Garrett’s sympathetic gaze. She pretended to study the rugged bark of the piñon branches rapping gently against the window. “I can’t understand most of the time.”

  He said nothing, and for that she was thankful. What could he say?

  She sent him a sidelong glance. She’d avoided thinking about him as a man, but now, in the close proximity, she couldn’t deny her heart stuttered a bit when she looked at him. He was handsome, but that wasn’t what drew her. The hard line of his jaw, the determination in his eyes. And his gentleness with Molly. He was the kind of man she could fall for.

  Smart, driven and deadly, but with a kind soul. And a heart.

  She wanted to reach out and touch him. Just once. She blinked, staring at him. His gaze had narrowed, an awareness in his eyes.

  He felt it, too.

  The next moment, she wondered if she’d imagined the spark between them. He blinked; the heat doused.

  Garrett pulled her SIG from below the seat. “You have extra ammo?”

  “Of course,” she said. “In my duffel. Dad trained me to go everywhere prepared.”