Callye's Justice

by Donica Covey

  “Don’t say anything more, Jarold.”

  “You’re my lawyer,” Abrahms argued.

  “Yes, but the privilege doesn’t apply when there are other people in the room.”

  “All right.” Abrahms rubbed his throbbing temple and began to pace. He swung around to look at Staunton. “We need to get out of here. Separate so that I can do what I need to do.”

  He didn’t bother to wait for Staunton or Miguel to acknowledge him. He had to haul ass out of there. Abrahms rushed down the steps. In his haste, he slipped on the concrete a few times and had to grab the rail.

  His Corvette was still in the lot. He ran past the silver Three Hundred, jumped into the Vette and looked into the rearview mirror while he started the engine. “Son of a bitch,” he growled low. The tail car wasn’t gone. Bernard had lied to him. Big surprise. He threw the car in gear and backed out of the spot. His tires squealed as he gunned the engine and raced through the twisting, tangling streets before whipping onto the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Bridge at the last possible second.

  He checked the rearview again to make sure he’d ditched the tail. He couldn’t see them any more. Good. Time to clear out his stuff, grab a stash of cash and get out of dodge.

  Bernard. Unfinished business. There was no way he could leave town before it was done.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When the ‘vette ripped away from him, Justice’s frustration swelled. He couldn’t make the turn safely, and as the car became a silver streak in the mirror, he growled in anger. Finding a spot to turn around would be futile now. The car had already long left his radar. Following Division Road, he raced over to the Eads Bridge, into St. Louis. Where the hell had Abrahms gone?

  Justice pulled onto Sullivan Boulevard and stopped to park along the cobblestones on the Mississippi riverfront. He wracked his brain trying to figure out what to do next. He shouldn’t have been so encouraging for Bobby and Mickey to be pulled off. Sure, he’d be able to get Abrahms alone, but what good did it do him now that he had no idea where the jackass was?

  Where the hell was Abrahms? Surely the sweep of the machine shop had been completed. So why didn’t Chase call with an update? Justice let loose a wry chuckle. He’d been dodging Chase’s calls for days and now, when he wanted them most, they didn’t come.

  Right at sunset, his phone rang. The caller ID showed it wasn’t Chase but Abrahms. “Bernard.”

  “All right. I name the place?”

  “Anywhere, anytime.” Soon Justice would have Abrahms in his cross hairs and it would be over.

  “Tonight. Ashbrenner in the parking garage.”

  “I know the place. When?”

  “Eleven, and come alone. I’ll know if this is a setup. Believe me, I can get out. But you won’t.”

  “Understood.”

  Justice had over five hours to hang back and be out of touch before the meeting. He couldn’t go back to the hospital, not until this was over. Going to the office would be a gamble he couldn’t afford no matter how much he wanted to know what his team uncovered. Any one the men would know he had something up his sleeve. Unfortunately, Chase could read him like a book. Sure, Justice could do the same. You aren’t partners with someone for as many years as they’d been and not be able to read the other’s mind.

  Time for retribution. This wouldn’t be the first time he killed someone, but it would be the first time he’d enjoyed it. He’d crossed the line. What was the saying—the blue line ends at murder?

  Once more, his thoughts paused. If he got caught, any chance of keeping his promise to Cas, of getting back to her side and getting their lives back, would be gone.

  He drove out to Cas’s place and went through the gate to the backyard. Weeds were invading her rose garden. Her back lawn was in need of mowing. Much more of this neglect and it would be a jungle in here. He knelt and began yanking the offending weeds from around her precious flowers.

  Her roses. Each one carefully selected for its fragrance and color. She could tell you the name and fragrance of any rose, even from a picture. She tended to them all spring and summer, regular feeding, pruning, the works. Then she’d cut them down and protect them all winter. He didn’t know the first thing about the plants, but he had to try and keep them up. Please let her come home and take care of them again. Let her take care of me.

  Thorns stuck in his clothes and skin. His cast had a green tint to it, but it was worth it. The weeds were all gone. Her roses cleaned up well. His knees made a popping sound from the joints when he stood up.

  He looked around the yard. The porch swing swayed gently in the slight breeze, and he walked over to sit down. They’d spent many a warm evening on this swing. He sat back. The picture-perfect home. A little white house with a chain-link fence, the front walk lined with annuals, green shrubs trimmed and framing the windows. A backyard perfect for kids to play in safely. A gym set and sandbox would fit under the large red maple in the back corner. He pushed the swing with his legs.

  The fantasy would turn into someone else’s reality if he got caught.

  Then don’t get caught.

  He brought the image of the parking garage to mind. Not exactly the OK Corral, but it would do. The cement support columns would offer some protection—not much, but some. He wasn’t delusional enough to doubt that Abrahms would come in loaded for bear.

  The thought of walking into a trap was right on the surface of his mind. He needed to make sure he was on top of his game. Killing Abrahms was the ultimate goal, but Justice had to make sure he would walk out. He’d promised Cas that no one would ever come between them again, and he never made a promise he couldn’t keep.

  He’d hide out here for a couple more hours and then head to the Ashbrenner to make sure he was in place before Abrahms’ goons could set a trap.

  “What exactly are you planning?” Chase’s voice broke into Justice’s thoughts.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. Any idea where we can find Abrahms?”

  Justice shrugged. “What makes you think I’d know?”

  “Because I know you. Something’s up. You backed off far too easily. So tell me where Abrahms is and what you’re planning. I can help.”

  Justice gave his well-known belligerent sniff. “Even if I had something up my sleeve, I wouldn’t need help.”

  Chase sat on a patio chair across from Justice. “You need someone to save you from yourself.”

  Justice shot off the swing. “I don’t need saving. Damn. Just back off,” he roared as he moved to the gate. He had to get away before Chase pushed any more buttons. The thought of decking his partner wasn’t something he wanted to do, but neither Chase nor anyone else was going to stop him from this mission.

  “Jus,” Chase called to him.

  “Leave it alone,” the thinly veiled threat ground out between Justice’s clenched jaws. He didn’t look back as he hurried to his car.

  He opened the glove box, digging for the pack of smokes he’d picked up at the bar. Right. Idiot. He’d been poured into Chase’s car before being hauled up the steps and passing out on his sofa.

  He had to stop at the quick mart up the street to grab a pack. He pulled into the lot, jammed the gear into park and slammed out of the car. At the counter he saw the small bottles of alcohol lined up. They were calling out to him. A good solid belt would be nice right now. No. Alcohol would cloud his judgment. Isn’t it already hazy?

  In the car, he tapped the pack on the steering wheel and opened it. He slid the thin cigarette between his lips and lit it. The smoke almost choked him as Cas’s image popped into his head. She had on that disappointed frown that always made him feel like an ass. She’d ridden him hard about smoking. Her grandfather had died from lung cancer, and it was her personal crusade to try to end smoking by anyone.

  He crushed the barely burned stick into the ashtray.

  Life before Cas was work, drink and smoke. Life after Cas was so much better. There were very subtle
changes. Sure, smoking could kill him. Then again, so could a bullet. But she always frowned at that, so he’d end up crushing out the smoke. Before long, he’d quit completely.

  He’d been drinking far too heavily, even though he hadn’t realized it before. When he wasn’t on shift he could be found at Beginnigans, toasted out of his mind before one a.m. The fact that he ate too much fast food was another little thing he’d never noticed before.

  Without a word, as far as his drinking and diet went, she’d made the lightning hit him. Thanks to her, his breathing was easier. His cholesterol was down and he’d lost a bit of weight. Now he could remember what he did on weekends instead of relying on other people to fill him in.

  Cas. She was so good for him. She made him complete. He rubbed the aching muscles on the back of his neck. Just let me have her back. Please.

  Antsier than a coon surrounded by hounds, he headed for the Ashbrenner. Being two hours early was his plan. It would give him time to make sure there wasn’t a trap.

  He’d just turned north on Fifty-Five when he saw headlights in his rearview. Not just any headlights, Chase’s headlights. “Damn and double damn.” He’d been so focused on his plan that he wasn’t alert enough.

  Justice whipped onto the shoulder of the highway, slammed the car into park and jumped out, barreling towards Chase. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Chase charged at him, his eyes flaming. “Trying to save your lousy ass. What are you doing? You’re going after Abrahms, aren’t you? I knew you were going to do something stupid.”

  “Friend or not, if you don’t stay out of my way I’m going to make sure you regret it.”

  Before Justice had time to think, a crashing blow landed on his face. Stars whirled before his eyes, but his anger surged. If Chase wanted a fight, he’d get one. He plowed forward, his head down, and slammed into Chase’s gut. Justice formed a fist around his cast and threw blows. With each punch landed, Chase expelled heavy huffs.

  Car horns blared as the vehicles swerved across lanes to avoid them. Let them come.

  Justice barreled into Chase again and slammed him against the concrete barrier on the bridge.

  “Damn…it…Justice,” Chase panted between blows.

  Justice pulled back and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and his nose. “I have to do this, you understand? It won’t ever be over unless I do.”

  “We’ve got him dead to rights on the drugs.”

  “So? Do you have any proof he was behind Cas’s attack?” He watched Chase’s face. “I didn’t think so. Abrahms has to pay for that.” Justice shoved away from Chase and headed back to his car. “Deniability,” he cautioned as he got inside and drove off.

  * * *

  Abrahms sat in his car and looked around the dark garage. Bernard would be arriving soon, of that he was sure. He didn’t trust Bernard any more than the agent trusted him.

  The men had their orders. No one was supposed to act until he told Bernard the truth. After each gory detail about what happened to his woman, Miguel would get the signal to shoot. Miguel crouched low behind the car, a .45 at his side, ready to fire.

  Across the garage, behind an old dumpster, sat his other bodyguard, Roark. He had a .357 and was waiting for the chance to take his shot.

  If Bernard slipped from them, it was up to Roark to take the man out. After it was over, they’d regroup at the Lodge. Abrahms would get this business done, then collect his passport and money. Then he’d put all this behind him. He’d go somewhere warm and forget all about Bernard, the DEA and Rivera.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Justice swiped at the blood on his face as he pulled into the parking garage. He’d finally ducked Chase. All it took was a semi and a little Miata.

  No faith. Abrahms’ silver streak was already there. Justice slowed his car to a crawl and entered the parking garage. He stopped the car near a cement pylon and patted his sidearm.

  Abrahms got out of his car.

  Justice quickly scanned the area. No sign of anyone else, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t. Justice climbed out and stood, shielded behind his car door. “You’re early.”

  “Seems we both have trust issues,” Abrahms replied.

  “Where’s the goon squad?”

  “I figured it was only right we meet one-on-one.” Abrahms seemed to be studying the terrain as well. “Nice to see you’re a man of your word.”

  “I usually am.” Justice walked around, closing the distance between himself and Abrahms, his gun near the ready.

  “Tell me, Bernard, how is that lovely lady of yours? What happened to her—” He clucked his tongue. “What a shame.”

  Red haze gathered before his eyes. “You’re going to pay for hurting her.”

  “There you go, insisting I was behind it.” Abrahms’ grin was sly and just a bit cocky.

  “You’re the only one who has reason to. Taking the coward’s way out. Not only did you take it out on a woman, but you didn’t even have the guts to do it yourself. Chickenshit.” Justice spat on Abrahms’ shoes.

  “Now that wasn’t nice. These were brand-new shoes.” Abrahms’ eyes hardened. “I’m not a coward, I just don’t like to get my hands dirty.”

  “So you admit you were the one?”

  To Justice’s utter astonishment, Abrahms nodded. “Knowing you squirmed every second she was missing, knowing that every bruise, every scratch, ripped you apart inside—ah, it was wonderful. I understand she’s close to leaving you permanently. What a shame. Such a beautiful woman. She had so much more to give to the world. Ah well, things happen when you’re in love with a Fed.”

  Rage built and Justice screamed. He reached for his gun, but thanks to his bulky cast it slipped in his grip and he couldn’t pull it from the holster. A shot echoed in the garage and Justice looked up to see one of Abrahms’ goons step out from behind the silver car. Justice dove for cover, rolling under his car while he pulled at his gun.

  “I told you, I never get my hands dirty.” Abrahms laughed.

  There was a second shot and then the ping of metal against metal as the bullet ricocheted off his car. The sound of sirens filled the air and the cavalry appeared, surrounding them. Damn it. So much for his clear shot. He rolled out from under the other side of the car and pushed up from the ground.

  Movement from his peripheral vision made him turn his head. One of Abrahms’ men darted out from behind an old dumpster. A second raced from the car he was hiding behind.

  Ducking under the hail of gunfire, Chase maneuvered his way to Justice’s side. “I told you I had him dead to rights. What the hell are you thinking?”

  “About Cas.” Justice shoved up. “I’m gonna—” He finally pulled his gun and fired.

  Abrahms crumbled to the ground. Blood oozed from the hole in his head and pooled under him.

  Chase grabbed his arm and wrestled the gun from his grasp. “Damn it, Justice.”

  “I had to do it,” Justice answered calmly. Agents and cops milled around them. Justice met each eye and stared them down. “Before you take me in, can we go by and see Cas one last time?”

  “For a minute. But Justice, I don’t have a choice. You didn’t give me one.”

  “I just need to see Cas one more time. To let her know it’s over.”

  Rather than the relief he expected, the vindication, he felt empty. He was going to have to break his promise to Cas. He’d sworn no one would come between them again. “Ironic. In the end, it really was me that came between me, Cas and our future.”

  After Chase made his statement, he climbed into the car and drove them to the hospital.

  Justice paused just outside her door. He’d wondered how much worse the pain could get before. Each time he thought it was as bad as it could be, but each time was a harder hit than the one before.

  He forced his weak legs to carry him to her side. The emotional roller coaster was finally grinding to a halt, and all he felt was the exhaustion. I’ll have plenty of time to rest in p
rison.

  Justice grabbed a chair from by the wall and pulled it close to her. He lifted her hand. “It’s over, baby. All over, you’re safe now. We got him. He’s never going to hurt you or anyone else, ever again.” He inhaled a steady breath. “But baby, I’m going to have to break my promise to you. I’m so very sorry. I’ve got to go away for a while, but my heart will always be with you. Always.” He squeezed her hand for emphasis.

  Chase tapped his shoulder. Justice stood and kissed Cas’s forehead. “I love you, baby. You just get better and get out of here, all right?” he whispered against her pale skin. It tore the fresh wounds wide open as he pulled away from her and walked out the door. After casting a backward glance, he moved off to his more-than-certain future.

  Justice’s voice once more pulled her from the pure white haven she’d found. Each time he spoke to her, the words became clearer. He was saying goodbye, but his tone told her he didn’t want to leave.

  She remembered now. He’d told Chase that once she was well he would leave her. But he hadn’t meant it. His always hanging on to her proved that he did love her. He was being taken from her. That’s what his words meant, wasn’t it?

  Panic washed through her and she tried to let him know she needed him. She longed to cry out, to reach for him, but her body refused to obey her mind. The footsteps became harder to focus on and utter frustration well inside. Call his name, her mind ordered, but she couldn’t.

  She heard rapid beeping and the bed moved. Someone was in the room. I want Justice. Call his name.

  Hopelessness floated over her. She couldn’t make herself wake up. Maybe it was for the best?

  If she woke up, called to him, she’d never heal. The white light reached out for her. Its promise of solace once more called her name. She had to let go. It would set both her and Justice free.