Christmas Justice

by Robin Perini

  “Not a topic for conversation. I get it,” Laurel said. “So, you have a favorite football team, Garrett?”

  He looked over his shoulder and sighed. “Between your job and your father’s career, you have to know sharing information is a bad idea.”

  “Not much choice. My father is in trouble. So am I. You may be able to help us, but you need me. I have contacts. People I trust. If we’re careful they won’t be able to trace us back here.”

  “Really? Even on my outdated equipment? Did Ivy trust them, too?”

  Laurel hissed at the barb, but Garrett didn’t waver.

  “I won’t apologize. Right now it’s all about finding your father. And that means finishing the job your sister started. On our own.”

  * * *

  MIKE STRICKLAND SAT in the SUV a block down from the sheriff’s office. They’d gotten nowhere searching the man’s house. The damn town hadn’t had one 9-1-1 call the entire night.

  He stroked his stubble-lined jaw. He’d been awake all night, knowing if he fell asleep and missed his chance, his life would be worth nothing.

  Strickland couldn’t believe Garrett Galloway was actually acknowledged traitor Derek Bradley.

  Wasn’t his fault the man had decided to take his family somewhere that day. Strickland shoved aside the prickle of regret. He’d gained the boss’s confidence with that job. And he’d stayed alive.

  He’d also attached himself to the organization the boss had created. Selling guns and secrets to the highest bidder: governments, terrorist organizations, corporations—it didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered but the dollars. Loyalty didn’t mean squat, and the boss didn’t suffer fools. The stakes in the game were too high to risk compromise.

  Unless Strickland killed Bradley—make that Galloway—before he saw the boss again, he’d be the next example.

  A beat-up truck trundled in front of the sheriff’s office. A young deputy jumped out of his truck. He turned the doorknob, then paused.

  So, the sheriff was usually in before now.

  The deputy dug his keys from his pocket, inserted one into the lock and pushed the door open.

  Strickland’s phone vibrated. “Tell me you have something,” he bit out to Krauss.

  “Nothing. Checked out the abandoned house where we triangulated the sheriff’s cell signal. Evidence of someone there, but gone. No prints.”

  “His place?”

  “Nothing.”

  “We’re out of options,” Strickland said. “I’m going to have a chat with the young deputy.” He ended the call, tucked his unidentifiable Glock in his holster, waited for a couple of cars to pass by and stepped out of the vehicle.

  He crossed the street and slipped into the sheriff’s office.

  “Deputy?”

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  The young man poked his head out from the back room. Strickland could take him out now and no one would have a lead to follow. He ran his hand over the weapon. “Looking for the sheriff.”

  The deputy sighed. “You and me both. He’s not here yet.”

  “When do you expect him back?”

  The kid stiffened, finally recognizing Strickland could very well be dangerous. “I told you I don’t know. How can I help you?”

  The kid shifted his stance, subtly showing his sidearm.

  Strickland flashed his identification badge. “Federal business,” he commented. “Contact him.”

  The deputy’s face paled. “Of course.” He stumbled to the desk and dialed a number. After thirty seconds his face fell. “Sheriff, a federal agent is here. He needs to see you—”

  Strickland grabbed the phone. He lifted the receiver and punched in the erase code. “I didn’t tell you to leave a message. Can’t risk it.”

  The deputy stood up, his gaze narrowed, suspicious. “Why are you here?”

  “Your sheriff might not be who he says he is, Deputy. I’m here to find out exactly who Garrett Galloway is.”

  “With all due respect, no way, sir. Sheriff Galloway is the real deal.”

  “You think so, do you? He ever talk about his past? He ever tell you anything about where he came from?”

  “Well, no, but still, he’s a good sheriff. Everyone says so.”

  “Maybe now. My agency has reason to believe he’s behind a lot of crimes. Under his real name. You recognize the name Derek Bradley?”

  The kid gasped. “He’s a traitor. Sold secrets to terrorists. Caused a lot of men to get killed overseas. He got himself blown up a couple years ago.”

  “So the public was led to believe.”

  The deputy shook his head. “Not Sheriff Galloway.”

  Strickland leaned in. “Does he trust you?”

  The kid nodded. “Yeah.”

  “He wouldn’t leave town without letting you know, would he?”

  “No, sir.”

  Strickland patted the kid’s cheek. “Okay, then, here’s what I want you to do. If he contacts you, I want you to keep your phone on. Don’t end the call.” He squeezed the deputy’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”

  “Deputy Lance Keller, sir.”

  “Well, Lance, are you a patriot?”

  The kid sprang to attention. “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, then. You do this, and your country will thank you.”

  The deputy met his gaze. “I think you’re wrong about the sheriff, sir.”

  “Could be. If he’s innocent, nothing will happen, will it? And you’ll have helped clear him.”

  Keller smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  “If he’s guilty, you’ve saved a lot of lives.”

  Strickland turned and opened the front door. “I’m counting on you, Keller.”

  He walked back to his truck and picked up his phone. “Kid’s clueless.”

  “You kill him?”

  “Came a second away from pulling the trigger, but not yet. Galloway’s a straight-as-an-arrow spy. It’s what got him into trouble in the first place. He might contact the deputy. And if he does, we’ll have him.” Strickland paused. “Then I kill him.”

  * * *

  GARRETT PEEKED INTO the living room. Laurel and Molly were playing hide-and-seek, with Hairy Houdini the key player. He smiled softly. It had been so long since he’d heard that kind of joy.

  So many lost memories.

  And Laurel. She had his heart beating again. He didn’t know if he liked feeling again. A cold heart made it easier to focus on revenge.

  She let out a laugh and tackled Molly in a gentle hold. Those two had melted the ice encasing his heart. And Laurel had lit a fire.

  He wanted to scoop her into his arms, touch her and hold her until she trembled against him. They could both forget the past and lose themselves in each other. He’d recognized the heat, the awareness in her eyes.

  She wouldn’t say no.

  Problem was, Laurel was a forever kind of woman. And Garrett had stopped believing he had a forever.

  The reality made this decision easier. He planted himself in his office chair and picked up the secure line. For a moment he hesitated. Daniel Adams had been through hell, but the man had connections...and he was one of the good guys. These days, men who lived by a code of honor were few and far between. Many talked the talk. Few walked the walk.

  He punched in the number Daniel had given him.

  “Adams.” Daniel’s voice held suspicion.

  Garrett was silent for a few moments. Daniel said nothing either, obviously unwilling to give anything away.

  “It’s Garrett Galloway,” he finally said.

  “If you’re calling on this line, it must be serious, and not to request an invitation to Christmas dinner.”

  “You said to call if I needed a favor. I might. And it’s a big one. Just how covert can your friends be?”

  “Very. What’s the situation?” Daniel’s voice went soft. A few loud squeals sounded in the background before the snick of a door closing muffled the noise.

  “My past is r
aising a dangerous head, complete with teeth. A woman and her niece are in the cross fire. If I fail, they need new identities and a new life. Untraceable, undetectable.”

  Daniel let out a low whistle. “I always wondered about you, Garrett.”

  “Look, Daniel, don’t run a search on me. Eyes are everywhere. The minute you pull strings, those eyes will come back on you and your friends. You get me?”

  “I played the game,” Daniel said. “Do your friends know what they’re in for if they disappear?”

  “I’ll make sure they understand. We’re not far from that gorge you hid out in. How long will it take you to get here?”

  “I can have a chopper there in less than an hour.”

  “I think we’ll have to talk about that.” Behind him Laurel stood in the doorway, foot tapping. “You’re palming us off? Where’s that idea of working together, Sheriff? I’m not ready to give up on having my life back yet.”

  Daniel chuckled at the other end of the phone. “She reminds me of my wife. Doesn’t take any prisoners. You need me, call this number. I’ll have the helicopter on standby.”

  “No details. To anyone.”

  “None needed. They know me. You had my back once, Garrett. I’ve got yours.”

  Garrett hung up the secure phone and turned around in his chair. He’d know very soon which direction this operation would be taking.

  He had a feeling he knew. And that Laurel wasn’t going to like it.

  * * *

  NOON HAD COME and gone. Laurel kissed Molly’s forehead and quietly closed the door to the bedroom. The little girl had fallen asleep before her usual nap time, but she was exhausted. Even though the weather was brisk, the sun had shone. They’d explored outside, careful to make enough noise to startle any other predators from coming too close. They’d collected pinecones. The moment Laurel had crossed the baseball-sized tracks of the big cat, she and Molly had scurried back to the house. She didn’t want to come face-to-face with it again, even with her SIG.

  She hovered over the sleeping girl for a few minutes. Molly hadn’t mentioned her brother or sister all morning. Laurel couldn’t help but worry. When the truth hit, it would hit hard.

  She left a small crack between the door and the jamb so she could hear Molly if she woke.

  Quietly she exited into the living room. Garrett must still be in his office. She padded across the wood floor and stuck her head through the door.

  He sat in front of the wall of electronics, bent over, studying the monitor intently. He typed in a few keystrokes. The screen turned red.

  He cursed and quickly pressed a button.

  “No luck?”

  The chair whirled around. He’d removed his hat and his hair stood up, as if he’d run his fingers through it dozens of times.

  “They’ve closed off most of the loopholes I knew about. Not surprised, just irritated. I let James...” His voice trailed off.

  She eased through the doorway. “What about my father?”

  For a moment it looked as if he wouldn’t tell her. Finally he met her gaze. “I kept a low profile. It was the wrong decision.”

  “I can help,” she said. “Let me do my job. What are you looking for?”

  He glanced at the cracked-open door. “Molly?”

  “Asleep. Her afternoon naps are usually an hour or so, if her visits with me hold.”

  “Front door locked?” he asked with a raised brow.

  “Dead bolted and chained at the top,” Laurel said with a shake of her head. “Ivy said Molly started finding ways out of her crib at just a year old. Once she caught her climbing over the side rail and then just hanging there by her fingertips before jumping down and going after her lion.”

  “Maybe she’ll be a gymnast.” Garrett chuckled. “Or a spy.” His face turned serious. “I’m trying to identify James’s last official location, but I haven’t found a record of travel, much less any files. His data is locked down tight.”

  He faced the screen and Laurel bent over him. She rested her hand on his shoulder and leaned in. “I monitor data coming from Afghan tribal leaders,” Laurel said. “I might have access to some locations or at least chatter.”

  “Can you get in from the outside?”

  “Are you on a classified network?”

  “Secure, not classified,” Garrett said. “No way I could pull that off for this long without someone noticing.”

  “I could get at some information.” She gnawed at her lip. “I could end up leading them here, Garrett.”

  “I know.”

  He rose from his chair and paced the room. “James said the operation had been compromised. That probably means they’ll be looking for my signature.”

  “He also mentioned Ivy’s research.”

  Garrett tapped his temple with his forefinger. “You know your sister. You know how she thinks. Maybe we can get to her files through you, instead of me or James.”

  “There’s still the problem of leading them here. If I use her name or any identifying information, they’ll know it’s me. Us.”

  “You’re right.” He patted the console. “We do much more here and it’ll be the last bit of info they need to come after us.”

  At the look on Garrett’s face, Laurel stepped back, understanding flooding through her. Garrett had learned from her father. Classic James McCallister M.O. “You want them to catch you?” She grabbed his shirt collar. “You saw what they did to Ivy. You can’t do that.”

  “You’re too damned observant.” Garrett scowled at her. “And yeah, I know exactly what they might do to me. On the other hand, they won’t be expecting me to be ready for them. I’m going to let them think they’re getting the drop on me. Surprise is worth a lot.”

  “It’s crazy.”

  “You think I love this plan, Laurel? If I were planning this op, this would be option Z. But that’s where we’re at. It’s the only option. We don’t have the insider to help us. We don’t know who the traitor is. Your father hasn’t contacted us again. We have no choice.”

  “What about Molly?” Laurel whispered.

  “I called a friend while I was retrieving the groceries. He’s someone I can trust. Maybe the only person I can trust. He has friends who can hide you and Molly while I go after James.”

  She could see he’d made up his mind, but there had to be another way. She sat across from him and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight. “Let me try? We can cut off communication if it’s taking too long or if I detect someone tracing us.” She met his gaze. “I’m good at what I do, Garrett. Let me try.”

  “I watch every move. The moment there’s feedback, we turn it off and go with my plan. Agreed?”

  She was silent for a moment.

  “Those are my conditions, Laurel.”

  “Agreed.”

  She took a seat and stared at the keyboard. She prayed her abilities wouldn’t fail her now.

  * * *

  A LOUD SCREAM yanked James McCallister awake. For a split second he didn’t know where he was. Then the pain overwhelmed him. He fought not to cry out.

  He shifted his legs, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. His jailer had shoved him into this dirt-walled prison, clamped a manacle over each wrist and whipped him until he lost consciousness.

  James had said nothing.

  Footsteps walked down the hallway. James looked up; his eyes widened with shock, and then nausea rose up his throat.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  And yet the proof stood before him.

  “I...I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said through dry lips. “You fooled me.”

  “Of course I did, but you cost me nearly a billion dollars this month, James. I’m not happy. You know I get cranky when I’m not happy.”

  A knife sliced down his chest, drawing blood. He hissed, pulling away, but the movement only caused droplets to fall to the floor.

  “And Garrett Galloway.”

  James struggled to keep his heart from racing.


  “Oh, yes. I know he’s alive. You hid him well. I just wanted you to know that I’m smarter than you are.” His captor lifted out a small device.

  James nearly groaned. Impossible. No one should have discovered his secret.

  “That’s right. I can track Garrett Galloway anywhere. He’s dead, James. And it’s all your fault.”

  Chapter Five

  Laurel leaned forward in the chair, staring at the screen. The disappointment nearly suffocated her.

  “It’s okay,” Garrett said softly. His hand rubbed her back.

  “I can’t find him.” She shrank away from his touch. She didn’t want comfort. She’d failed. She’d been so certain. She shoved away from the console.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” He stood beside her and turned her into his arms. He looked down at her. The expression on his face held too much sympathy.

  “I failed my father. I failed Ivy. I failed you.” She tried to push away, but he refused to let her go. She shook her head. “I failed Molly.”

  Laurel couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. She’d thought she could do this. She’d believed if she were in her element she could save them all. What a fool she’d been.

  “Listen to me. These people are good. I wasn’t able to catch them. Neither was Ivy. Or your father. You didn’t let anyone down.”

  He pressed her into his chest. She clung to his shirt, gripping him tight. His warmth seeped through her as the sobs racked her body.

  “Shh,” he muttered. “It’s okay.”

  Laurel couldn’t stop the flood of emotions: the guilt, the pain, the grief. Everything overwhelmed her. She didn’t know how long she stood in Garrett’s embrace, but when she came up for air, her body was spent.

  He rubbed her back awhile longer, whispering soft words of comfort—lies, really. Because nothing would be all right. It couldn’t be.

  Finally she pushed against his chest and tried to hide her face from him. He tilted her chin up. “You don’t have to hide. You just did what I wanted to do from the moment I came to Trouble.”

  With a swipe of her tears, she cleared her throat. “Doesn’t do any good. Now I’m exhausted and fuzzy headed.”