Callye's Justice

by Donica Covey

  “True, I did promise you that.” Dalton pulled a gun from the back of his jeans and shot the man standing to the left of Mouse. Then he turned and traced the retreating steps of the second of Mouse’s associates. A shot cracked just before the second man fell.

  From his peripheral vision, Dalton watched Mouse scamper across the floor then disappear completely.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are, Mouse,” Dalton called in a singsong voice. “It’s time to get your payment.”

  The sound of empty cartons falling drew his attention. “Come on. Are you a man or a Mouse?” He laughed while tracking the sound.

  Mouse froze in the corner. “Please, Mr. Bismarck, please. I got the job done. No one can trace you.”

  Dalton aimed the muzzle of the weapon at Mouse’s head. “And a fine job you did.”

  Mouse stiffened his spine. “I want to know something, I mean, since you’re going to kill me anyway.”

  Dalton released a heavy sigh. “What?” Boredom edged his tone. “You realize that too much exposition at a crucial time like this can be extremely detrimental to one’s plans.”

  “Huh?”

  “Too much talking can stop me. Now ask your damn question.”

  “How come you couldn’t take them? You’ve got people who could’ve helped you. Besides, once Bernard was out, you wouldn’t have a problem getting them both here.”

  “True, but Bernard and I go way back. I couldn’t take the chance of someone seeing us together. Any final words?”

  Mouse opened his mouth again, but Dalton squeezed the trigger, the sound of the shot drowning out any possible words the little man may have uttered.

  He pulled out the cell and punched in Jarold Abrahms’ number.

  “I’ve got her.”

  “Good. How about our friends?”

  “Unfortunately, Mouse and his friends had a run-in with an exterminator.”

  “Very good. I wonder how long before Bernard will crack? Care to make a bet?”

  “No. He’s a tough nut.”

  “That he is, but every man has his limit.”

  “Bernard’s won’t be easy to hit.”

  “You almost sound as if you admire him.”

  “In a way I guess I do. He knows what he wants and he makes sure to get it, no matter what or who may stand in his way.”

  “Bitter much?”

  “Some. Make sure to let Mr. Rivera know we’ve got the girl.”

  “I can already tell you what he’s going to say.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make sure it hurts.”

  Dalton’s laugh joined the one from the other end of the line.

  Chapter Two

  Sirens filled the room and Justice saw the lights reflecting off the walls. He could hear the voices and radio chatter muffled through the door. “Hey.” His voice barely registered, he was so hoarse from a night of shouting and cursing.

  The door opened and two sets of uniforms entered the room.

  “Get me out of here,” he demanded and strained against the ropes.

  “Hang on, buddy, we’ll get you loose.” The way the cop cut the ropes would preserve the knots. Hopefully there would be some evidence to collect from the fibers.

  When his wrists were finally free, Justice jerked up to stand on weak legs. The blood was finally able to circulate once more. His hands tingled with the return of the flow. “Give me a phone,” he ordered.

  “Sir, if you’ll just hang on, we’ll get you some help.”

  Justice shoved his way to the door. The hand that grabbed his shoulder was gentle but firm. Justice froze. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”

  “You can’t go out there, sir, it’s a crime scene.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. I’m DEA Agent Justice Bernard. Now get me a friggin’ phone before I take off your head.”

  The one nodded and handed over his cell phone.

  Justice dialed his partner’s number.

  “Willet,” Chase answered, the television blaring in the background.

  “Chase. Cas is gone.”

  The background noise went dead. “Justice? What did you say?”

  “Cas has been kidnapped.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Some warehouse.” He moved the phone and snapped his fingers to get the attention of a passing cop. “Where the hell are we?”

  “The old Smitzer building.”

  Justice nodded. “The Smitzer building.”

  “Okay. I’m on the way.”

  Justice flipped the phone closed and paced out the door. Lights blazed and he watched a crime scene team scour the ground for evidence. Three bodies lay in pools of blood. Where was Cas? What was happening to her right now? Who had her?

  Questions whirled into a painful buzz filling his brain. His head throbbed and he had to grab a patch of the cement floor for a couple of minutes.

  Uniforms crawled all around him. Was he hurt? Did they need to call for an ambulance? The tension built, threatening to shatter him.

  “Enough,” he snarled and instantly regretted it. His skull split apart at the seams. He grabbed his head with both hands.

  “Justice? What the hell happened here?”

  He looked up to see Chase standing above him. “One minute I’m kissing Cas, the next the world is spinning into black. She looked terrified. Before I could turn around—bam. Instant headache. When I wake up, we’re tied up in this damn place and she’s crying and I…” He shook his head. “I was supposed to protect her, dammit. Now some freak has taken her.”

  “We’ll find her,” Chase promised and reached down to pull Justice to his feet.

  Justice accepted his hand and they walked outside. At first, he couldn’t tell if it was near dawn or if it was all the lights from the patrol cars filling the sky. He glanced down at his watch. Dawn.

  “Over here,” Renee from the CSU called out. “I’ve got a woman’s shoe.”

  He looked at Chase. “Ten to a dime it’s a purple shoe with some kind of sparkly thing on it.” He moved to Rene. His heart plummeted when he saw Cas’s shoe in the bag.

  “Tire treads show someone burned rubber to get out of here,” Renee commented.

  He needed to focus on doing whatever it took to find her. To get her back.

  He continued to rub the back of his head absently while he scanned the ground, looking for some kind of sign, some trace of what had happened. “I should’ve been paying attention.”

  Chase materialized at his side. “What?”

  “At dinner I felt like we were being watched.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “Cas said something. I lost focus, then my head. I asked her to marry me. I gave her the ring. I was so lost in her I ignored my gut.” He slammed a fisted hand into the other palm. “I was only thinking about Cas.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Justice scratched his hand across the back of his neck. “Isn’t it? I knew something was off. I ignored it.”

  Chase grabbed his arm. “Stop playing the guilt game. Start thinking.”

  Justice nodded. Exhausted and heartsick, he paced between the maze of cars. He should be doing something. Whoever had her better pray not even a hair was out of place, otherwise they’d find themselves biting bullets.

  The man’s words haunted him. Not his hands. Other men. Using Cas. He felt the urge to vomit. Scenes flashed through his head. Cas being pinned, her clothes ripped, the tears and the fear in her eyes. Men… He gagged, gulped for air and gagged again. He pushed away from Chase and made his way to a dark corner, then threw up.

  Chase came up behind him, but thankfully his partner stayed back and kept silent. Once Justice had his body under control, he ripped the fabric of his shirt and wiped his mouth off.

  Chase led Justice to one of the squads. “Let’s get you something to rinse your mouth with.” He had a uniform grab his jump kit from the trunk of the police car. Chase took a bottle of distilled water and passed it over. Justice took a swig and spit it out. After
a few more times, he felt like he could face his partner. It was a mistake; he could see his worry mirrored in Chase’s eyes. Justice looked down at the ground. “Thanks.”

  Chase nodded.

  “Excuse me, Agent Bernard? I’m Detective Martin, St. Louis City homicide. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Chase positioned himself between the detective and Justice. “Not right now.”

  “I understand this must be a bad time, but we really need to know what you were doing here.”

  “I said not right now.”

  “I have a job to do.”

  Justice pushed past Chase. “I was here because some asshole cold-cocked me, dragged me and my fiancée here and then disappeared with her.”

  “Did you get a look at the man?”

  “Hell, no. If I did, do you think I’d be here arguing with you?” Justice loomed over the detective. “Now back off. This case belongs to my people.” Lucky for the detective that Chase was here. Justice was ready to kill anything that moved at this point.

  “Agent Bernard, I understand this is personal, but the homicide is in our jurisdiction.”

  “The murders were committed during the act of a federal crime, a kidnapping of a federal officer. That makes it our case. Now I advise you to step down,” Justice ground out.

  The detective’s glance moved from Justice’s face to Chase’s and back again. “Fine.” He spun on his heel and stalked away.

  “There goes the working relationship we used to have with St. Louis P.D.” Chase forced a chuckle.

  “I don’t give a damn. Get me everything you can.” Justice’s head begin to swim. He wavered on his feet… His legs were about to give out.

  “We need to get you home, buddy.”

  “I need Cas.”

  “We’ll find her, I swear we will.”

  Justice didn’t say anything as Chase took him to Sandzis to pick up his car.

  A second CSU team covered the lot of Sandzis, collecting evidence.

  What am I supposed to do now? His shoulders sagged as he moved to his car. Protocol said he had to back off and let someone else take the lead. Each directive was firmly entrenched in his mind. To hell with protocol.

  “Justice,” Chase cautioned.

  “I know. I’m going home.” He slid in the seat and drove straight back to her place. Only the lonely, dim yellow of the porch light shone. He frowned. What had he expected? Her lights blazing, showing she was waiting for him? The muscles in his arms bunched, tightening.

  Curling his hand into a fist, he pounded the wheel once, twice, three times, trying to work out his frustration and anger. It didn’t seem to make any difference. She was still gone. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

  He leaned his head back against the rest and closed his eyes, willing the phone to ring. Fear gripped him. If the phone did ring, would it be telling him someone found her body? Again, he needed to vomit.

  He pushed open the door, climbed out and leaned for support against the fender, and dry heaved repeatedly, but nothing else came. He took in a few breaths and climbed back into the car. Inhaling deeply, he savored her fragrance that still clung to the upholstery.

  Cas was there, smiling at him. She looked so beautiful. The blue jean shorts exposing just enough of her sexy legs to make his mouth water. The polka-dotted tank top that exposed her flat stomach. God, but he loved her.

  She held out her hand and he grasped it in his, and then pulled her close to his body. He nuzzled his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of sunshine and roses. She was his, forever and always. Life was perfect.

  Suddenly, dark clouds gathered over the sun. Shadows coated Cas’s face. The sound of her screams filled the air. She was on the ground, life oozing from her body with every drop of the crimson blood pooling beneath her.

  He ran, trying to reach her side, but he was stuck in quicksand. “Cas. Cas. Baby, hang on. I’m coming,” he shouted as he pulled, trying to break free.

  She turned her face to him, her blue eyes cutting into his soul. “You did this to me.” She moaned and then her eyes dimmed.

  “No,” he shouted and jerked up. He’d been sitting there for almost two hours? He hurried to the office, hoping there was some word. Wouldn’t Chase have called if there were?

  Inside the building, action slowed and his gorge rose at the pity he read on each agent’s face. He straightened his spine and moved to his desk. He pulled out the chair and flipped on his computer. He just needed to know she was safe. Who was he kidding? Someone kidnapped her, and he was just sitting her praying she was safe?

  He had to type up what had happened in his own words, not just rely on Chase’s notes. But as he leaned over the keyboard, all he could do was see Cas’s face. He’d been in the warehouse for two hours trying to break loose. Then he wasted another two pouting in her driveway instead of doing everything he could to find her. The images forming in his mind were making him sick. He couldn’t handle what he saw there.

  “Coffee?”

  He looked over to find Mickey Flannery standing there, a steaming cup held out to him. “Thanks,” he muttered. It was strong and black, just the way he liked it. He almost chuckled. Cas always said he liked his coffee strong enough to walk and pay taxes.

  When would the phone ring? Would someone call and ask for ransom? Whatever they wanted he’d gladly pay. No price was too high to get her back. “I’ve got to find her before it’s too late.”

  Pins and needles shot through his fingers as he unclenched the fist he’d subconsciously drawn them into.

  “We’ll find her,” Mickey said quietly.

  “Damn straight we will,” Chase added, walking up to Justice’s desk.

  Justice sat up straighter, trying to hide the worry in his body posture. “Anything turn up in that lot?”

  Chase shook his head. “They pulled a couple of partials off your car. They dragged in floodlights, but the customers from Sandzis were getting impatient to leave.”

  “So?” he spat, and then recovered. “Fine, whatever. Any hits on the partials?”

  “Yeah. How’s this for coincidence: the partials come up to a Rickey ‘Mouse’ McCain.”

  Justice studied Chase intently. “I’m waiting for the coincidence.”

  “Mouse is one of the three bodies we found over at the warehouse. The other two are his homeys, Albert Desmond and Willoughby Wright.”

  “So if Mouse’s prints are on your car and he was in the warehouse, stands to reason that he and his friends were the ones who grabbed you,” Mickey said as he leaned his hip against the wall.

  “Who killed them? Who took Cas?”

  “We’re still looking.” The sympathy lacing Chase’s words dug under Justice’s skin.

  “Find out, dammit,” Justice roared and pushed up from his chair. He didn’t know where to go, but he had to get the hell out of there before he really did some bodily damage.

  He stormed into the men’s room to wash off. The cold water he splashed on his face mingled with the hot tears. He never cried. But he’d never hurt this much before. He went to the towel dispenser and pulled the lever, but nothing happened. “Son of a bitch.” His shout echoed from the bathroom walls. He slammed his fist into the machine. Burning pain shot its way from his hand up his arm and into his shoulder, but he shoved it away.

  He grabbed the large brown box by the sides, wrestled it, ripped it from the wall, and then threw it across the white-tiled room.

  It didn’t relieve the agony squeezing his heart. He headed back to his desk, trying to get a grip on his emotions. Anger wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Focus on what you know. Get out and find out what the hell happened.

  Inside the main room, phones were ringing. Agents typed up reports, did scans and checked the leads trickling in. He made his way to his desk, and as he passed by a group of younger men, one of them spoke. “The more time that passes, the more likely she’s dead.”

  He spun, seeing red, and grabbed the man by his shi
rt. “Shut up. You hear me. She’s not dead.” The desire to peel the flesh from the kid’s bones, to rip his limbs off, flooded Justice. He swung at him, determined to pound the rookie’s face so far in it would meet the back of his skull.

  Hands grabbed him, latching on to his arms, his shirt and wherever they could grasp.

  “I’m gonna break him in two,” Justice shouted. Hearing his deepest fear spoken aloud made it seem more like a possibility. It tore the life out of him.

  Bobby del Gado, who was Mickey’s partner, and Chase pulled him farther away from the group of rookies.

  “Cool down, Jus,” Chase ordered.

  “He’s wrong. She’s alive.” She had to be. He couldn’t face a life without her. “I can’t take it in here. I’ve got to get out.” He wrenched out of Chase’s vise-like grip and headed for the doors.

  In the daylight maybe, just maybe, they’d find something to help him bring her home.

  Chapter Three

  Callye’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. She couldn’t stop the tremble that shot through her. “Justice? Please, Justice, answer me.”

  She glanced around the room, trying to make out any details. Far above her was a small window. At least there was a little light.

  Where was she? The memory of Justice crumbling to the ground, the sounds of his pleading for her release from their dark prison, all filled her mind. What had they done to him? “Please, God let him be all right.” She whispered the prayer.

  She wriggled her arms, testing the ropes holding her wrists together. Straining, she pulled at the fibers, but they were soon cutting into her skin. In no time, she felt the moist, sticky streaks of blood.

  There was no use in fighting. Defeat crushed her beneath its weight. What was going on?

  “Nice to see you’re awake. You put up a hell of a fight.”

  She turned to track the voice. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I personally don’t want anything. But my boss is very interested in your boyfriend. Seems he pissed off the wrong man. Now he has to pay. You are that cost. I’m going to make sure he suffers more than any man before him ever has. Then maybe when I’m through, when we’re all through with you, we’ll let you be the bait to bring him back to me.”