Love or Justice

by Rachel Mannino

  Laurie shrugged in answer. She was already too tired for this adventure. She moved to the foot of the bed to pick up the clothes she planned on wearing.

  Dante drew his gun, reaching for the doorknob. With a swift motion, he entered the bathroom. He moved the shower curtain and checked out the window.

  Laurie sat down on her bed, watching him.

  Dante moved over to the closet opposite the bathroom. He moved aside clothes, inspecting the panels in the ceiling. He turned around from her closet and faced her.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, can you get up from the bed? I have to check under it.”

  “Laurie,” she reminded him, as she rose and stepped away.

  Dante didn’t answer. He got down on his knees, looking under the bed. He removed a small flashlight from his vest, and flashed it into the shadowy corners.

  Laurie felt small beside him and took a step back while he holstered his gun. He was a solid wall of male strength. He stood a foot away, but she felt the heat radiating off him. He flashed her a smile and her pulse leapt.

  “All clear. I’ll wait while you change, but we need to move.”

  Laurie nodded, and walked into the bathroom to change into her clothes. When she opened the door, Dante was bending over her desk looking at the class schedule she had posted on her corkboard. His eyes lifted to hers.

  “You’re a student?”

  “Law school. This is my last year.”

  Dante took a seat on the only chair in the room. Laurie lifted her duffle bag onto the foot of her bed, and began picking her way through the nearest stack of books. She decided to take all of her Austen books—those she could read every day. She tossed aside most of her psychology books. Then she tucked her tattered copy of Utilitarianism by John Stewart Mill into her bag. She sorted through the most helpful books from her contract law class. She glanced at Dante. He was watching her, but his gaze darted away.

  “Do you always pick up your witnesses at 1:00 a.m.?”

  “No. You’re a special case. Are you planning to take all of those?”

  “As many as I can fit. It’s just hard trying to decide between what I know I should take and what I want. Why am I special?”

  Dante met her gaze as she sent him a sidelong glance. Something in the air crackled between them. Laurie looked away.

  “Well, the case is special. The man you had a run-in with is Kaimi Quamboa, after all.”

  “Exactly what did he do to warrant the DA’s personal and immediate attention?”

  “He’s an organized crime boss on the islands. The DA’s been after him for years—ever since he took office. You saw him with a woman and child? You saw him with both of them?”

  Now he had Laurie’s attention. Perhaps she could finally get some answers. She turned toward Dante as she tossed another book in her bag.

  “Yes. Who were they?”

  “The woman is Katherine James, and her son is Easton. Her husband is a federal prosecutor, Evan James. Evan put Kaimi’s brother on death row in California. He had him extradited and tried. Kaimi took it personally. He’s ransoming Katherine and Easton for his brother’s release.”

  Laurie dropped the book in her hands as she turned to stare at Dante.

  Dante nodded.

  Laurie shook her head, picking up the fallen book from the floor.

  “God, to attack a federal prosecutor’s family. The gall. The FBI would never negotiate with a kidnapper, would they?”

  Dante shook his head. Laurie saw his jaw muscles tightened, his features solemn.

  “The federal government won’t negotiate. More often than not, complying with a kidnapper’s demands leads to the victim being killed anyway.”

  “If the government knows he’s behind the kidnapping, why do they need me?”

  “Evidence. They have no other evidence. The demands come through voice-disguised calls from burner cell phones. Kaimi has eluded capture for decades for a reason. He’s good—too good. You’re the only person who’s seen him with his victims. You’re the only person who can connect him directly him to the kidnappings. If he does kill Katherine and Easton, you’re the only person who can tie him to their murder.”

  A chill went down Laurie’s spine. The image of Kaimi’s gun swinging over to hover in front of Katherine James swam in front of her eyes. The look the little boy, Easton, gave her flashed in her mind. Laurie shook her head to clear the visions.

  “He said he would kill her if I told anyone…they may already be dead.” Her voice became thick with emotion.

  Her hands were shaking now as she placed two books into the duffle bag. Dante reached over and covered one of her hands with his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin.

  “You don’t need to worry about that now. We need to worry about getting you out of here. Are you ready?”

  “Almost.” Laurie gave him a grateful smile.

  He nodded, and took back his hand.

  Its absence left her skin tingling. For one brief moment, Laurie lost herself in his mocha colored eyes. She glanced away, and the world came rushing back. Laurie stared at her bed, trying to remember exactly what she was supposed to be doing right now. It took her a few moments to remember she needed to pack.

  Laurie agonized over her books until Dante cleared his throat. She chose the most interesting books from her two classes this semester and tossed them in on top. Then she pulled open her desk drawer and took out several photos. Her mother, father, and a five-year-old version of herself smiled back at her. She tucked them into one of the books. She turned in a circle surveying her room.

  “I think that’s it.”

  Dante rose, but said nothing. He stood frozen. There was a soft scraping noise, and a muffled thump. Laurie dismissed the barely audible noise as she sorted through her books again. Dante grabbed her arm.

  “Hey—” Laurie looked up at him as he covered her mouth with his hand.

  He held her firmly, but Laurie felt no danger from him. More muffled sounds came from the bathroom. The window popped open, and Laurie jumped.

  “Get in the closet, close the door, and don’t move until I tell you to,” Dante breathed the words in her ear.

  He reached down to take out his gun.

  Laurie’s heart pounded as she went into the closet and closed the door, except for a tiny sliver of a crack.

  Dante moved so he was behind the bathroom door.

  Laurie’s breathing became erratic. She felt around in her closet for something. She needed some weapon, just in case. Her hand brushed against her shoes, work boots, laundry detergent, and then she felt the base of the heavy, broken ceramic lamp she forgot to take down to the resort electrician. It would have to do.

  She went back to the crack in the door. Dante hadn’t moved. He seemed to be a statue that had always stood behind her bathroom door. The wiry frame of a man appeared in Laurie’s bathroom, swathed in black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. His hair was covered by a black bandana, but Laurie saw his rich bronze skin.

  He climbed down from the window with the help of the sink. The assailant looked out the open bathroom door and Laurie covered her mouth to keep from letting out a cry of alarm or throwing up. She kept breathing as her stomach churned in fear. The man stood there, staring at the closet door as if he knew she was in there.

  A boot appeared through the open window. It fumbled to reach down to the sink. The other leg followed, almost slipping on the porcelain surface. The second man appeared as he climbed down. He was stockier, meatier, but dressed the same as the first. Laurie saw a flash of steel as the first man drew his gun from his waistband.

  He strode into the bedroom. The first man turned toward Laurie’s empty bed. The second man was right behind him.

  “Where is she?” the second man asked.

  Dante leapt onto the second man. He wrapped one arm around the stocky frame, and pressed a knife to the man’s neck. Dante pointed his gun at the thinner man.

  �
��U.S. Marshals Service!” Dante shouted. “Drop your weapon!”

  The first man raised his gun toward his partner and Dante.

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “Drop your weapon and get down on the ground, now!”

  “I have a job to do. Unless there’s a lot more of you in here, I plan to do it.” The thinner man cocked his gun.

  “Hey, brah, don’t shoot. You’ll kill me!” The shorter man squirmed in Dante’s grasp.

  “Put your weapon down!” Dante squeezed the neck of the man he held.

  “Sorry, brah,” said the man with the gun.

  Laurie didn’t know what came over her. A sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her. She burst from the closet door, swinging the lamp at the assailant’s head like a baseball bat. The lamp hit with a sickening thunk and the man with the gun crumpled to the ground. Laurie stared down at him in abject horror. When she looked up at Dante, he already had cuffs on the other guy, securing him to an exposed pipe.

  When he was done, he charged over to the other man. He kicked away the gun, and checked his pulse.

  “I didn’t kill him did I?” Laurie trembled as Dante pushed her out of his way.

  Dante said nothing. He cuffed the other man to the bedpost. Then he turned on Laurie, his brown eyes shooting lightning.

  “What were you thinking?” He backed her up against the wall.

  “I…”

  “He could have killed you. I could have shot at him and killed you!”

  “I don’t know. He was going to kill you. I had to do something.”

  “I told you to get in the closet and not to move until I told you to move. You are not trained in law enforcement. I am! You could have gotten us both killed.”

  “But, I thought he was going to kill you. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t. I’m sorry!”

  Someone pounded at the door.

  “Laurie? It’s Jim. What’s going on in there?” Jim pounded on the door again.

  “Who is that?” Dante unholstered his gun.

  “He’s part of the security staff.” Laurie stepped in front of Dante, her hands raised.

  “Don’t move.” Dante took her by the shoulders and pushed her out of his way. “This time, I mean—don’t—move.”

  He stalked to the door. After looking through the peephole, he yanked it open. A tall, muscular Hawaiian stood on the threshold. He had short black hair, a square jaw, and light brown eyes that looked formidable as he sized Dante up.

  “I’m U.S. Marshal Dante Stark.” Dante shielded Laurie from view with his body. “I’d like to see your ID.”

  “Is Laurie all right in there? The room above called us.” Jim craned his neck to catch a glimpse of her.

  Laurie watched Dante scrutinize whatever Jim handed him.

  “She’s fine.” Dante let Jim into the room.

  “Whoa. What the hell?” Jim flicked his eyes from the two men handcuffed to Laurie’s furniture to Laurie, and then Dante.

  “Jim!” Laurie almost ran to him, but Dante’s dark look stopped her cold. She wobbled on the spot, grasping for the words that might explain the situation.

  “Laurie, what happened? Are you all right?” Jim took her hands in his.

  “Ms. Shelton is now under the protective custody of the U.S. Marshals Service.” Dante scowled at him. “She was getting ready to leave with me when we were attacked. I need you to inform the local police department, and have these two assailants arrested. Ms. Shelton—we need to leave. Now.”

  Dante moved back to her bed as he spoke, picking up the duffle bag.

  “Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute there, Mr. Marshals Service. I’m not going to just let you take Laurie anywhere.” Jim released Laurie, and stepped between her and Dante. “How do I even know you’re not the one causing her trouble?”

  Dante stared down his long straight nose at Jim. Laurie watched in helpless fascination as tension rose between them until Dante’s jaw muscles twitched. Jim put his hands on his hips, and straightened his spine in answer. They glared at each other for several seconds.

  “It’s okay, Jim.” Laurie stepped between them. “He’s telling the truth. I have to leave because of what happened in the penthouse suite. We were getting ready when these two men broke in through my bathroom window. Dante was protecting me. He saved my life.”

  Dante grunted behind her, but said nothing.

  “Are you sure, Laurie?” Jim put a hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes.

  Dante moved past Jim, out into the hall, with Laurie’s duffle bag in hand. He paused at the threshold and looked back at her.

  Laurie gulped down her fear.

  “I’m sure. I have to go with him.” She gave Jim a hug. “Please tell Darcy and Mona I had to leave. I don’t know if or when I’ll talk to them again.”

  “You have to leave right now?” Jim followed her to the door.

  “No, ten minutes ago.” Dante swung her duffle bag onto his shoulder, glaring at Jim.

  “I’m sorry.” Laurie hugged Jim again.

  “Ms. Shelton!” Dante snapped.

  “I have to go, I’m sorry!” Laurie tore herself away from Jim and ran toward Dante.

  Laurie and Dante walked down the hall and into the whitewashed stairwell in silence. They exited the emergency door. Laurie followed Dante to an unmarked black SUV in the parking lot.

  He unlocked her door, tossing her bag in the back. Laurie hoisted herself up into the cab.

  Laurie stared out the window as Dante gunned the engine and left the parking lot. She watched as the only home she had known for the past ten years faded into a blur of lights as he got on the highway. As much as she had wanted to leave the hotel behind, she found herself tearing up. She had planned her departure. This wasn’t it. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone except Jim. There was no ‘good luck cake’ in the break room or dinner after her last shift. She was being ripped away. Tears fell in hot little waves down her face. She tried to cry quietly, turning away from Dante to muffle the sounds of loss she wanted to deny, but all she could think of was her friends and whether she would ever see them again.

  ***

  Dante

  Across the cab of the truck, Dante fumed. He couldn’t believe this woman leapt from the closet at a dangerous, armed gunman. She’d endangered both their lives. Hadn’t listened to him at all. She’d delayed leaving with her packing and her hugging. He was angry beyond words, but he heard her sniffling. His stomach filled with cold dread. The sniffling turned to soft crying. He glanced over and Laurie sat crumpled against the window, her eyes buried in her hands. His anger melted. He ran a hand through his thick hair. This was going to be a long assignment.

  “You’ll be able to talk to them soon.” Dante glanced at her to see if his words had any effect.

  “Will I be able to see them again?” She turned toward him.

  Dante sighed. He knew better than to answer that. Talk to them, yes. Over a secure line through the Marshals Service. See them? No, never again. He tried a different tactic.

  “If you’d stayed, your friends would have been in danger. Even if you escaped the attack tonight on your own, your friends would be in a lot of danger. Anyone around you would have been at risk.”

  “I know.”

  “Things will be better in the morning, after you’ve had some decent sleep.” Dante knew he was lying through his teeth.

  “Sleep would be nice.” She tried to dash away the tears as they appeared.

  “Sleep now.” Dante looked back at the empty road. “We’ve got a couple hours drive before we get to the safe house.”

  She nodded. Laurie stared out the window for a long time. Longer than Dante expected. Finally, after almost half an hour, he glanced over to see her eyes closed. She looked serene. Her position was too contorted, too uncomfortable to look peaceful, but there was a calm, quiet aura about her while she slept curled up on his front seat.

  Dante drove for another hour down deserted highways. There were no
cars behind him, not even at a distance, so he decided not to take any back roads or to back track to loose potential followers. He pulled up to the safe house in good time. Buried in the Hilo Forest Reserve, the house was impossible to get to if you didn’t know the dirt pathway off the main road. The lights in the house were on. He recognized the cars in the driveway. His team was already here. He pulled in behind them and waited. He saw some of the curtains move. He reached over to Laurie.

  “Laurie.” He shook her arm. She bolted upright in the seat, scaring both her and him.

  “What? What?”

  “Easy, easy.” He grabbed her shoulder. She looked confused and pale. “We’re at the safe house now. When my team comes outside, we’ll go in.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes drifted from his face over to the windshield.

  She sat back in the seat and yawned. Dante glanced up to see two of his team members emerge from the house. They ambled toward the car.

  “Stay here. I’ll make sure they’re ready for us.”

  He got out to meet them in front of the hood of the truck.

  “Hey boss, little late tonight.” Cheyn flashed a smile at him that gleamed white in the darkness. He was shorter than the other Marshals, and a native islander, with spiky black hair.

  “Yeah, ran into some trouble at the hotel. Two attackers broke into her room right before we left.”

  “You’re kidding.” Cheyn quirked an eyebrow at him. “You had to fend off two guys already?”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. You ready for us?”

  “I know I’m ready for her.” Max stared at Laurie through the windshield.

  “Max, that’s unacceptable.” Dante stepped into his line of vision, blocking Laurie from sight.

  “Aw, come on boss. We don’t get too many sweet girls as an assignment.” Max backed up a step.

  Dante gave him a businesslike scowl.

  Max looked away from the truck, out into the trees.

  “I don’t want to hear anything like that again. She’s under our protection.” He tossed Max the keys to the truck. “Turn it off after I get her and the bag.”

  Max caught the keys and stood there while Dante walked away.