Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  “You still like the new neighborhood?” he asked a few minutes later as they walked toward the building.

  “It’s okay,” she replied.

  “Good evening, Ms. Grant,” a uniformed doorman greeted her with a smile and then gave a pleasant nod at Nick.

  “Evening, Freddy,” she returned as she headed for the elevators.

  She punched the button for the fourteenth floor. “The move was good for me. I needed a fresh start where there were no bad memories.”

  Nick knew all about her bad memories. She’d been working undercover and had infiltrated Moretti’s powerful gang. In the process she’d let down her guard, had fallen off that blue line and had developed a relationship with the drug lord. She’d wound up pregnant by him.

  She’d given the baby, a little girl, up for adoption, but when Moretti escaped from prison and went after the baby girl, Lara’s secrets were revealed to the whole team. Sometimes Nick wondered if she secretly hated them all for learning about the skeletons that had been in her closet.

  And he suspected she had more secrets. Despite the fact that they’d worked closely together for almost two years, in spite of their intimate relationship, she was still a mystery to him.

  They reached the fourteenth floor, and as he followed her down the hallway he couldn’t help but notice the shape of her tight ass and her long legs in her fitted black pants. His breath hitched slightly in the back of his throat.

  She stopped at apartment 1404 and pulled her keys out and unlocked the door. The furnishings of her old apartment had been black and sleek and minimalistic, and this one was much the same except for in shades of dark gray. It definitely mirrored her old apartment in the lack of anything personal.

  She had no knickknacks or souvenirs, no photos or anything else to mark the space as specifically belonging to Lara Grant. For all intents and purposes it could be a model apartment that Realtors showed every day to strangers looking to buy.

  She dropped her keys on an end table and headed directly toward a sleek minibar in the corner of the room. “Whiskey?” she asked.

  “Sounds good. Do you mind if I wash up in the bathroom?”

  “You know where to go,” she replied with a nod.

  There was tension between them, a tension that he recognized, one that had often led them to her bedroom in the past. If that was what happened tonight, he would welcome it. Their sexual chemistry was off the charts and he’d missed it...he’d missed her.

  He knew they both had a tendency to block out the stress of a case through alcohol or sex, or a combination of both. And they knew that finding that release with each other was playing with fire, but there were times when their need outweighed their common sense.

  He left the bathroom and noticed that her spare bedroom door was cracked open a bit. He’d never been in there and had assumed she either used it as a workout room or a home office. The door had always been completely closed before.

  Curious, he shoved the door opened a little farther and then froze.

  What in the hell?

  His heart dropped to the floor as he stared around the room in disbelief. A huge bulletin board was propped up on a desk with copies of evidence from her mother’s murder. Old crime scene photos were tacked to the wall and an evidence box on the desk had Anna Grant’s name in bold letters.

  Her mother’s unsolved murder had happened twenty-one years ago, but it was obvious from this room that this was Lara’s obsession. He’d suspected her of dabbling in the old case before, but this was proof positive and by all the material she had, it was an obsession that had her gripped by her throat.

  Why was she doing this? He was positively stunned by all the material she’d gathered. He was sickened to think of her sitting at the desk in this room and reliving her mother’s murder. How much time was she spending on this? How many nights was she dwelling on this?

  Pity and compassion for her swept through him.

  He turned away from the doorway and saw Lara standing at the end of the hallway with a drink in her hand. Her shoulders stiffened and she raised her chin as her eyes flashed with a hint of defiant anger.

  She took a sip from the glass that he knew had been meant for him. “I’ve changed my mind about drinks,” she said. “I think it’s best if we just say good-night now.”

  He wanted to shake her and ask her why she couldn’t let her past go. He wanted to go back into that room and tear everything off the walls, box up everything and take it far away from here...from her.

  “Lara, what are you doing?” he asked softly.

  “It’s not your business,” she replied. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

  “For God’s sake, Lara, let it go.”

  “Good night, Nick.”

  Those two words held a warning and he knew not to push it any further. He held her gaze for a long moment and then gave a curt nod and headed for the apartment door.

  It was only when he was out in the hallway and waiting for the elevator that he replayed a vision of that office in his head and his heart squeezed tight for her.

  He’d had no idea that she was still attempting to solve a crime that had gone stone cold years ago, a crime where her father had been the primary suspect. She’d been told by her superiors more than once to let it go. Her father was dead now and had taken whatever secrets he had to his grave. Nick had no idea the depth of Lara’s obsession, until now.

  He wanted to be a supportive partner, but how could he support her when she was chasing a trail that could potentially lead her straight to hell?

  Chapter Five

  Lara knocked back the drink she’d fixed for Nick and then stalked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the one she’d fixed for herself.

  Screw him. Screw the pity she’d seen in his eyes. He should have never gone into that room even if the door had been cracked open. He’d violated her private space by entering.

  She shouldn’t have agreed to have a drink with him. She’d known instinctively he hadn’t really wanted a drink. He’d wanted her, and she probably would have allowed that to happen if he hadn’t seen into that room.

  She didn’t need Nick Delano or anyone else in her life. She’d gotten along fine alone as a child growing up with her distant father and she was fine alone now.

  Besides, she had no room in her head for anything else right now. She had her work with CMU and a case of a bomber killing the people in her city, and she had her driving need for answers to halt the haunting questions that plagued her day and night.

  She needed to know what exactly had happened on the day her mother had been murdered.

  Who had come into their Rockaway, Queens, home and had beaten her mother to death and had left the bloody body for her to discover after school when she’d only been ten years old?

  Her father, a decorated detective, had been the first suspect and Lara remembered the arguments between her parents, arguments where her father had warned her mother that if she ever tried to leave him, he’d kill her.

  Lara had never really believed his threats during those heated exchanges of words. He had been paranoid about her mother having affairs and flirting with other men, but ultimately he had adored his wife.

  Her father had never been arrested for the crime, but his career was ruined as the shadow clung to him, throwing him into disgrace. Despite their complicated relationship, though, Lara hadn’t believed it then—and she didn’t want to believe now that her father had committed the horrendous act.

  She poured herself another drink and then went into the office, punched on her computer and sank down in her desk chair where she was surrounded by everything she had on the cold case.

  After her mother’s murder her father had quit the force and had instead embraced a bottle, becoming moody and belligerent, not what a mourning little
girl needed. Still, she had been grief stricken when Alzheimer’s slowly took away all his memories and finally his life a year and a half ago. Whatever secrets he’d known about his wife’s murder had gone to the grave with him.

  Then last year Moretti’s goons had staged a recreation of Lara’s mother’s murder scene in her apartment kitchen, right down to the evidence, the files and the way her mother’s body had been lying on the floor.

  She had kept all the evidence but had been totally freaked out by the fact that they had gotten into her apartment and so she’d moved, but she’d taken her obsession with solving her mother’s murder with her.

  The staged recreation had provided new evidence she’d never seen before about her mother’s supposed affair with a man named Henry Baker, but she’d already investigated that angle and it had led nowhere. She believed Moretti had one final laugh on her by planting lies and trying to taint Lara’s memory of the mother she’d so adored.

  Still, she was determined to check out each lead, no matter what dark places they took her, in an effort to find the truth.

  She closed her eyes and took a sip of her drink. She needed to find out once and for all exactly what had happened on that horrible day. She not only wanted to completely absolve her father of any perceived guilt, but she was determined to find the murderer and finally get justice for her mother.

  If Nick didn’t understand her driving need for answers, then he would never understand her. She had to know what had really happened to Anna Grant, despite being ordered to leave it alone.

  She opened her eyes and stared at her computer screen where her home page displayed the latest news. The picture was of the rubble at the bomb site and an attractive black female newscaster interviewing one of the victims.

  She needed to solve her mother’s murder and she wanted to catch a bomber who had the city holding its breath for the next blow. With this thought in mind she downed the last of her drink and went to bed.

  Unwanted nightmares of murder, bomb blasts and erotic dreams of Nick chased her through the night. She awoke to the loud buzzer of her alarm clock and thought about hitting the snooze button, but instead got out of bed, did some of the breathing/visualization techniques Dr. Oliviero had taught her as a way to refocus, then took a long hot shower to prepare for another day.

  She wasn’t particularly looking forward to seeing Nick. It had definitely been awkward between them the night before, but she was eager to get back to the investigation. She was aware of a potential clock ticking and the need to get the bomber behind bars before another tragedy occurred.

  Victoria wasted no time in starting the morning briefing. “You all know what we need,” she began. “We’re looking for why those two particular locations were targeted. We need to find out if there was some sort of trigger that prompted the bomber to act and we need to make sure we’ve interviewed each and every witness. Christina will be handing out witness and victim lists as she gets them. We’ll have a briefing at noon and then another one at seven this evening. Now, get out there and get some answers.”

  Lara felt Nick’s distance as they left the room. He’d scarcely greeted her before the meeting when they’d both been in the break room to get coffee.

  Was he judging her because of her room full of evidence? Dammit, it was her business and not his. Whatever she did in her spare time was definitely none of his business.

  Besides, if he hadn’t given her his judgmental eye the night before she might have let down her guard for just a little while. If she hadn’t seen his pity, she might have actually shared with him some of the inner demons that tormented her.

  She turned out of the conference room and nearly collided with Christina, whose dark eyes snapped with energy as she held out a piece of paper to Ty. “This victim has been flagged for a follow-up interview.”

  “Thanks, Christina,” he replied and then shot a quick glance to where Jennifer had already settled at her desk. He started to head for the exit and Lara realized he intended to ditch his partner. She’d known Ty hadn’t taken well to Jennifer, that after Mei Wang’s death he’d requested to work alone and had been denied.

  Before he could get out of the room, Jennifer glanced in his direction and apparently caught on because she jumped up and hurried after Ty.

  Good for her, Lara thought with satisfaction. She liked Jennifer. She was levelheaded and had the drive to be a great team member and partner. Lara just hoped Ty would give her a real chance.

  She sat at her desk next to Nick’s and focused on pulling up the file she’d been keeping on the investigation so far. Normally Nick would chat with her a bit before getting down to work, but not this morning.

  He was silent and didn’t even make eye contact with her.

  Fine. She wasn’t going to let his giving her the cold shoulder get into her head. That was the last thing she needed right now.

  There was a frenzied chaos in the air. FBI agents from down the hallway came in and out to speak with Victoria in her office. Christina ran back in, another sheet of paper in her hand. Lara turned around at her desk as Xander got to his feet “What have you got?” he asked.

  “Another victim needs a follow-up interview,” she replied.

  “James and I will take it,” he replied.

  As the two of them left the office, Lara’s gaze fell on the photo of Xander’s daughter that he kept on his desk. It was her first grade school photo. She was a cute little girl with Xander’s blue eyes and blond hair. He’d received the new picture two days earlier and had proudly shown it to everyone.

  Emily.

  The name of Lara’s baby winged through her head, bringing with it an unexpected knife to the center of her heart. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. The words to the old song whispered in her head. She’d sung that song to Emily the last time she’d held her baby in her arms.

  Emily was the name Lara had given her at birth, but she had no idea what the dark-haired, rosebud-lipped toddler’s name was now. She also had no idea where Emily was located, and that was a good thing. It was the only way she’d know that Emily was completely safe.

  The one thing she did know for sure was that her baby was safe and with wonderful parents who would raise her with love and protect her from evil. That was good enough. It had to be good enough for Lara.

  She tore her gaze away from the photo and whirled back to face her computer. It surprised her sometimes, what little things would cause that pain of loss to pierce through her heart.

  She expected it when she went to the ocean, for the last time she’d seen her daughter had been with the sound of waves crashing to shore and the scent of salt in the air. She’d held Emily in her arms and told her goodbye after getting Moretti back under arrest.

  What she didn’t anticipate was the occasional heart pang when she saw a brilliant rainbow or smelled a baby-fresh fabric softener. She didn’t expect it when the stars were unusually bright in the sky or when she passed a playground and heard childish laughter.

  She consciously willed these thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She’d made her choice with nothing but love in her heart.

  She spun around in her chair as Victoria approached with Christina following closely at her heels. “I want you two to follow up with some of the victims’ families today,” she said to both Lara and Nick. “We need to find out if anyone who was killed yesterday had any ties of any kind to the smoothie shop on 34th Street.”

  “I have a list of five of the families for you that uniforms didn’t get to,” Christina said. She handed each of them a piece of paper with names and addresses.

  “I don’t need to tell you to tread softly. These people are in incredible pain.” She gave Lara a pointed look.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Lara said dryly. “I promise to step softly.”

  “You can skip the noon br
iefing although you both know to call me if you find out anything important. Otherwise don’t come back here until you’ve talked to everyone on the list.”

  “On it,” Nick replied.

  Victoria turned on her heels and headed back to her office with Christina hurrying to keep up with her.

  “You drive,” Lara said to Nick and got up from her desk.

  He didn’t respond. Apparently he was still giving her the silent treatment. Fine. She was okay with that. It was his problem, not hers.

  Minutes later they were headed back to Brooklyn Heights. Lara gave him the first address on the paper and then turned her gaze out the passenger window.

  This was going to be a particularly tough day. Talking to grieving family members was always difficult. The hard thing about a bombing was trying to discern if the bomber just wanted mass casualties or had accepted collateral damage in an effort to kill a specific person or persons.

  They were two days out from the bomb blast. Was the perp now sitting in some dark hole someplace building another bomb? Plotting where he could plant the next one for the most casualties?

  Jesus, they needed some answers and they needed them fast.

  “Who is first?” Nick finally broke his silence.

  She looked down at Christina’s notes. “Darla Jennings. Widow of the fallen officer Brad Jennings. She’s twenty-six and he’d just turned thirty. They had only been married a little over a year.”

  Nick released a deep sigh. “This is going to suck.”

  “I agree, but it has to be done.”

  They fell silent again until they pulled up in front of a small brick row home with several people milling about on the porch. Friends and relatives who would have arrived with casseroles and commiseration, Lara thought. Yes, it was going to be a tough day.

  Darla Jennings was young and pretty despite her puffy red eyes and splotchy face. Her mother sat next to her on the sofa and held her hand as Nick and Lara questioned her.

  “Do you know if your husband had any enemies?” Nick asked her.