Stealing Justice (The Justice Team)
Page 28
Rodgers snugged down his knit hat, his voice full of the classic sarcasm Monroe had missed. “You never minded freezing your ass off. You love survivalist conditions. Probably why you’re such a damn good fugitive.”
It was rare Rodgers threw it in his face. Nervous. But whatever information Rodgers had, it was important enough to risk his job meeting Monroe in the park. As an aide to the president, Rodgers couldn’t be seen with a fugitive, even if he and Monroe had been friends since fifth grade. “Hey, meeting out here was your idea, not mine.”
They jogged in silence for a few feet. Rodgers checked over his shoulder. “Any news on Gun Run from your end?”
Like always, thoughts of their mutual friend’s involvement in the gunrunning operation, and Tommy’s subsequent death, brought on a flood of questions. Questions Monroe couldn’t expose himself to ask and he knew no one would answer. Tommy had been undercover working a gun-smuggling ring, but how was it he’d ended up dead in the Arizona desert surrounded by weapons the ATF had confiscated months earlier? Guns Tommy shouldn’t have had and that the ATF insisted he’d stolen from them somewhere along the way.
“Nada.” Monroe said. “The few contacts still willing to talk to me claim ignorance. You?”
A tight sigh. “The president is invoking Executive Privilege on the operation tomorrow.”
What the hell? It took Monroe a few seconds to process the information, the damning implications. “Why is the operation on his desk?”
“All my sources inside the House are close-lipped. No one knows.”
“Something definitely went wrong with that operation.”
“Tommy was selling the weapons on the black market. The deal went bad. The government can’t let it leak that one of their own was as dirty as the criminals he was supposed to bring down.”
What the hell did you get yourself into, Nusco? Monroe slowed his pace, listening to the quiet squeak-squeak-squeak of Rodgers’ sneakers on the wet ground.
Tommy had joined them their sophomore year in high school. Long hair, ratty jeans, and enough anger inside him to fuel a freight train. The crazy teen had copped an attitude that pissed off Monroe from day one.
But he’d seen a part of himself he’d buried reflected in Tommy’s cruel lips and flippant comebacks. Seen a reflection of the soul he’d shied away from all his life in Tommy’s bring-it-on demeanor and me-against-the-world insolence.
Contrary to Kemp Rodgers’ advice, Monroe had immediately taken Tommy under his wing. Of course, Tommy being Tommy, he’d rejected all attempts at friendship, clinging to his outcast status with zeal. But Monroe was persistent. He watched and waited, and when the time came and Tommy finally dug himself into a hole he couldn’t get out of, Monroe showed up in the nick of time to save Tommy’s ass.
Along with Rodgers, the two of them had taken the Academy by storm. The Three Musketeers, their instructors had dubbed them. Monroe figured it was better than the Three Stooges.
This thing with Tommy didn’t add up. “He was undercover, working an angle. Something went wrong and now the government is covering it up.”
Rodgers shook his head. “You sure about that?”
It had been a long time since Monroe had been sure about anything, but this…this was different. “If the men who killed Tommy were there to buy guns, they would have taken the cache after they shot him down. But they didn’t. They left the guns, right?” When Rodgers didn’t answer, Monroe nodded. Cover up. “The whole thing stinks, and it isn’t because Tommy was dirty.”
“If the president is invoking Executive Privilege, someone high up wants to keep the details secret. My guess? The guns or the parties involved are part of a bigger operation.”
Tommy had always been a risk-taker, always reaching for the biggest fish in the pond. “Christ.”
“I know you were looking into what happened, but now you have to back off. You poke the wrong bear, and the claws of the Justice Department will come down on you hard and swift. The FBI won’t be the only entity hunting you.”
Back off? No way. If anything, this latest development fueled Monroe’s desire to uncover the truth even more. But Rodgers was a good guy—a good friend—and when the shit hit the fan, as it invariably would once Monroe started stirring the pot, he needed plausible deniability. Rodgers had left the FBI to pursue politics and landed a sweet seat in the White House because he didn’t break the rules. Ever. Monroe, on the other hand, had more Tommy than Kemp in him.
Most rules were made to be broken. Executive Privilege or not, Tommy’s killers weren’t getting away with murder, and the government wasn’t getting away with pinning crimes on an innocent man. Tommy deserved justice.
“Mitch?” Rodgers’s voice held a warning. “Promise me you’ll leave this alone.”
Monroe stopped, his ears ringing. The Three Musketeers never called each other by their first names or made promises they couldn’t keep. “Tell me you did not just go there.”
Rodgers stopped a few feet away, turned and came back to face Monroe. “I did, and I expect that promise.”
“Easier to open a vein and bleed to death.”
“Tommy wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“He wouldn’t have wanted to be branded a traitor by his country either.”
The two glared at each other in the shadowy light. Ahead, Monroe spotted a group of hikers crossing the road, dressed in expensive clothes and laughing about something. Their flashlight beams bounced off nearby trees and he automatically stepped closer to the woods.
Rodgers didn’t follow. “I get it, man. You always had a soft spot for Tommy, and without you, he wouldn’t have made it through high school, much less college and the Academy. But he was a wild one, and once you left the Bureau, there was no one keeping him in line. I don’t know what happened in that desert, but what I do know is, Tommy might have crossed a line.”
…once you left the Bureau, there was no one keeping him in line. Monroe’s back teeth locked. My fault. He could hardly get ground out the words. “He was not dirty.”
Rodgers set his hands on his hips and looked off into the distance. “I’ll look into it discreetly from my end. You stay out of it. Capisce?”
Capisce, my ass. “Whatever gets you through the night, Kemp.”
“Mitch—”
He held up a hand. He was already stretched thin with emotion. He didn’t want his friend worrying about him, and adding a new layer of guilt to his growing pile. “Alright, fine. I’ll stay out of it, but do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Don’t look into it, even discreetly. Whatever’s going on could put you in hot water. You need to keep your nose clean, forget this conversation. I’ve got a buddy who can investigate what happened. He’s discreet and he has an in with the FBI.”
“Justice Greystone?”
“Better you don’t know.”
“Right.” Rodgers blew out a breath, looked back the way he’d come. “Guess that’s it, then. You need money or anything?”
Ouch. Monroe stepped forward, offered a handshake. “I’m living the high life. ‘Go home. Find a wench, raise fat babies, live a good long life.’”
Rodgers laughed at the movie quote, took Monroe’s hand, and dragged him into a manly embrace. “All for one?”
Monroe hugged him back. “And one for all.”
As Rodgers jogged off, Monroe watched the deepening shadows gobble him up. What had happened to the three of them? Tommy was dead, Monroe on the run, and Rodgers had sold his soul to God and country. Not the way he’d thought their story would turn out.
“All for one, and one for all,” he whispered to himself as he took off the other way. “Don’t worry, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”
At six o’clock the next morning, Monroe stared at the screen of his TV in disbelief. Kemp Rodgers was dead.
And the picture of the suspected killer hanging over the somber newscaster’s shoulder…was him.
About the Authors
USA
TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans writes the award-winning Super Agent romantic suspense series, as well as an urban fantasy and paranormal romance series. She likes her coffee black, her conspiracy theories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When her muse lets her on the internet to play, she’s on Facebook and Twitter. Read more about her and her stories at www.readmistyevans.com.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery. She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction. For more information on Adrienne’s books, please visit www.AdrienneGiordano.com. Adrienne can also be found on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AdrienneGiordanoAuthor and Twitter at http://twitter.com/AdriennGiordano. For information on Adrienne’s street team, Dangerous Darlings, go to http://www.facebook.com/groups/dangerousdarlings.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Sneak Peek—Cheating Justice
About the Authors
Dear Reader
Books by Adrienne Giordano and Misty Evans