Fuck. That made sense. The sound of an engine firing up and a car fasten-your-seat belt beep, beep, beep let Justice know Gracie had gotten into her car. “Hmm, good of you to provide Walid’s motivation and his future plans. Do you have a date and time you think he’d like me to go after him?”
“Nice, J. I’m not setting you up. Just because I lob a common-sense grenade, make some obvious connections, you practically accuse me of being the traitor—and, yeah, I figured that out too.”
“I’m not the one living at the club. I’m not the one who separated herself from the group. I’m not the one who mysteriously provided insights into Walid’s plan that are not obvious.”
I’m not the one who would love to see the League go down, so she could reconnect with her son. Maybe even rekindle an old romance.
Gracie let out a long breath. “You know, I think I like this new suspicious Justice. You can learn the lesson I learned long ago.”
“Which is?”
“Trust no one.”
Chapter 55
Hearing movement in his room, Sandesh woke up confused and disoriented. Where was he?
“Sorry to wake you.”
“Leland?” Oh, that’s right. He had spent the night in a guest room at the Mantua Home. “Tell me you don’t have a thing for blonds.”
Leland laughed. “No. Definitely not my type. And I know you haven’t gotten a lot of sleep, but I have a favor to ask.”
Sandesh looked around. It was not even five a.m. What was with this family and waking people up? Truthfully, he preferred the way Justice woke him.
He sat up. The room was still dim, but he could see Leland clearly enough, standing at the foot of the four-poster bed. The whole room looked as if it belonged in Victorian England.
“No problem.” Sandesh rubbed at tired eyes. He’d gotten only about two hours of sleep. “What do you need?”
Leland shifted, let out a breath. “What do you know of Justice’s father, Cooper Ramsey?”
Her father? “Not much. He left Justice to an abusive grandmother. He’s a drug addict.”
Leland moved to the chair by the vanity. He pulled it out and sat. “That’s true. But more important, we suspect he is working with the family traitor.”
Sandesh swung his legs out of bed. This seemed like a big admission on a normal nine-to-five schedule, but at five a.m., it was pretty obvious where this was leading.
“Where does he live?”
* * *
Wearing jogging gear donated by Leland, Sandesh ran with steady ease down the wide blacktop of the Schuylkill biking trail.
He wouldn’t have pegged Leland for the mesh-shorts-and-Glassboro-hoodie kind of guy. The brown hoodie was big—big enough to conceal and carry. Helpful.
The sneakers were a good fit, though not Sandesh’s style. Expensive. White. With too thick of a sole. He felt like he was running on a loaf of bread.
When Leland had woken Sandesh this morning, he’d brought the shoes, the clothes, and a mission. Though the security cameras had spotted very little of the drones, Leland’s security team had scoured the camera footage along the campus perimeter from the last few days.
They’d spotted Justice’s father outside the school taking pictures. Leland wanted Sandesh to look into it, because, well, thanks to his own ideas and a few well-placed suggestions in his FBI interview, the feds suspected Sandesh’s connection to the school had caused the bombing.
If he were caught investigating the bombing, it would only draw more attention to Sandesh and away from the school. After last night, he’d jumped at the chance to help. He didn’t mind being used.
He should mind. But he’d always had a problem with giving a shit about petty crap like what the FBI thought of him when he was trying to save people’s lives.
Even with the friction of the gun harness against his chest, it felt damn good to move. He let his body stretch with each stride, enjoying the pace, the breeze. It was a beautiful trail. Trees budding, the sun out, the river to his left, and the river houses on stilts with their boats and careless yards.
He wouldn’t mind a house like that. Waking up beside Justice with a cup of coffee and easing out onto the deck before starting their day.
As the trail angled up, the river dropped down, and the apartment complex came into view. A series of five-story red-and-tan buildings.
He circled, doing recon on the place and the area. Outdoorsy. Pet friendly. He passed a woman with two wiener dogs. She scolded one as they walked along the trail.
From what Justice had said of Cooper—a drug addict who’d sold his own children—this place was not what he’d expected. Did painting houses pay this well?
He eased off the trail and onto the grass in front of building 7. Sandesh stopped and stretched.
When a man with a dog went inside, Sandesh followed. The man held the door open. Yep. A nice neighborhood. Sandesh said thanks and dipped his head, petted the dog to avoid the security cameras, slipped past.
The elevator was open and waiting. He got in and pressed the button for three. And quickly hit the “close door” button as the man with his lab went to get his mail.
At Cooper’s door, Sandesh knocked. After thirty seconds of no answer, he squatted, took the light tools from his pocket, and picked the lock.
Checking the empty hallway, he palmed the edge of his sweatshirt, turned the handle, pushed open. A huge, slobbery, black-and-white Newfoundland bounded out at him.
Sandesh cut him off with a sweep of his body, guided him back into the apartment. He kicked the door shut, knelt, and petted the big dog, whose entire body vibrated with joy. And slobber. Sandesh cringed. Lifted his hand up.
Not just slobber?
Blood.
He wiped his hand on the inside of Leland’s sweatshirt, took out his gun.
He swung his Ruger as he scanned the front hall and into the main living area.
Jesus.
He moved past the dead man strapped in a chair wrapped in bubble wrap, past the kitchenette, and into the bedroom. Empty. As was the closet. And bathroom.
Back in the bedroom, the dog watched as Sandesh checked under the bed.
A white box. He slid his leg under and kicked it out. A drone box, an empty drone box. He went back into the living area. The dog followed.
Judging by the long, black hair and distinctly Native American features, not to mention Justice’s exact nose, the corpse strapped to the artist chair was Cooper.
He’d been tortured to death.
Under the plastic wrap, chicken wire pierced Cooper’s face and down the flesh of his naked body. His mouth split in small red fissures at the creases, chafed by a thick leather ball gag. Cooper’s head lay to one side. Blood pooled beneath the chair. A dog-sized bloodstain saturated the beige carpet beside the chair.
The apartment had a lot of windows, but all the metal blinds were closed.
He took out his cell, hit Leland’s preprogrammed number.
Leland answered on the first ring. “And?”
Not even a hello? “Found Cooper. He’s dead. Someone did a nice job of torturing him. I’m not sure how this is going to go down with the authorities. Justice’s father murdered a day after the school was bombed.”
There was a very long pause. “Clean off any of your prints. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Leland hung up.
Sandesh holstered his gun and went into the kitchen. Keeping his hand covered by his shirt, he opened a couple of cabinets, found the dog food. He opened two cans and slapped them into the empty dog dish by the fridge. The dog was eating big, sloppy mouthfuls as Sandesh refilled the water bowl. When he was done, he surveyed the main room.
There was an easel and paints in one corner. The easel contained a painting of a Buddha in front of an orange, red, and yellow Buddhist temple. He re
cognized it. He’d passed it on his way to the Mantua Academy campus. It had caught his eye because of the bright colors and because there weren’t a lot of Buddhist temples in Pennsylvania.
So Justice’s father had been a Buddhist? And was now a suspect in the school bombing. And had been tortured to death.
Could Cooper have been a go-between? Someone the traitor had recruited to help?
Maybe.
And after Jordan, Walid might’ve been able to track him here.
So he came here, tortured Cooper to get information. Maybe to figure out who’d given him the warning about Jordan. How much had Cooper known? Had Walid been told about the school and then gone to bomb it? If so, is that why Cooper had a single drone box here? Had Walid’s men set up camp here?
Cooper wasn’t exactly swimming in enough luxury to be buying drones to mess around with. Other than the easel, the chair with him in it, a small, round kitchen table, and an abused, brown suede couch, there wasn’t any other furniture.
There were a lot of decorations. Well, paintings.
He’d never seen a picture of Justice as a child, but he knew the portraits that took up nearly every wall were of her. And the girl beside her, the one Justice had her arm slung across, was most likely her sister. Hope. And the woman? He’d take a guess, since she resembled the blond girl Justice had her arm around, and say that was the mother.
The portraits were repeated again and again all over the walls. Like the man had played one moment, one loop of thought in his head for the last twenty-five years.
So Cooper painted not just houses, but people. And not just any people but Justice and Hope and their mother. Over and over again. The same picture. Dissected down to the smallest detail.
And those details were so clear. Freckles. Blue eyes. Dark eyes. And the dark shadow over every painting, as if the artist foreshadowed the days to come. Or asked where it had all gone wrong.
Chapter 56
Justice entered the house and wasn’t surprised to see it filled with family members who usually worked or trained belowground. She maneuvered around them and down the hall. Where was Sandesh?
After his late night being interviewed by the FBI, Martha had found a room for him. Justice assumed he’d been here sleeping this morning when she’d left for work, but it was now almost six. She turned into the library.
A few of the oldest sisters, Fantastic Five, sat at a long reading table, sipping coffee and eyeing her speculatively.
Sheesh. Intimidating bunch.
Justice headed for Tony and Dada. They were huddled together at a small corner table pressed up against a black suit of armor.
Huh. They looked so chummy. Coconspirators?
No. That was paranoid.
Those two couldn’t plan a lunch together. She slipped into the only available seat.
Tony leaned back. “Justice. What do you think? Drones over the school.” He gestured with his hands. Tony used his hands like a conductor used a baton to convey the tone of his emotions, but still, Justice couldn’t figure out what he meant.
“Huh?”
Dada shook her head. “He wants to put drones in operation over the school. Ridiculous. Do you want to draw even more attention here?”
“Attention? Didn’t you hear about the attack that has parents lined up outside waiting to drag their kids outta here?” He walked his fingers across the table to demonstrate parents fleeing.
Dada tsked. “Your fear has made you reactionary.”
“Not reactionary. I’ve seen the footage.”
“You’ve seen the security footage?” Justice said. “How?” Right now, access to those videos was limited to those underground. Had he been down there? Impossible. Leland had completely sealed off the lower floors.
“I was in the control room when everything went down. I stayed after the strike and ran the tapes.”
He’d left Sunday dinner and had gone to the control room? “What’s the footage show?”
Dada shifted toward Justice. “According to him, the footage shows nothing.”
“Exactly.” Tony’s whole body jumped forward. His weight slapped against the flat edge of the square table. The table slid forward and knocked into Dada.
She shoved it back and put her hand protectively over her stomach. “Careful. Idiot.”
Tony frowned. “The drone avoided detection by our cameras, ’cause we didn’t have anything to patrol the sky.”
Dada pulled the edges of her lips into an incredulous grimace. “Why would we have done such a thing?”
“It’s called security, daddy-o. You need to outthink and outplan your enemy.”
“Do not call me that. I dislike it.” Dada’s mouth tightened. She looked a little gray. And worn. She looked like shit. Was she worried about her informant? Justice assessed her sister. Her illnesses. Her hand resting on her stomach. Could she—
“Justice?” Justice jumped at Leland’s voice. He stood at the entrance to the library and beckoned her with a crook of one insistent finger. “Would you please accompany me to the next level?”
Silence. Every eye in the room turned to her. She was being summoned to a level no one else was permitted to go at present, not even the older sisters. Tension rippled across the room.
Justice stood and walked across the silent room. Damn, this is so awkward. Someone cough or something.
Behind her, Tony, loud enough for everyone to hear and with a tone that bordered on tragic, said, “And we never saw her again.”
The room erupted in laughter. Leland shook his head. Tension broken. And that was why Tony was her favorite sister.
Chapter 57
Sandesh could not get used to how artificially bright Mukta’s lower-level office was. And colorful. The space insisted on merriment. But Sandesh couldn’t forget it was also the center of dark pain and anger and plotting.
He also couldn’t forget this dual nature had been the upbringing of the person he loved, the person looking a bit wary sitting on the seat next to him.
Leland stood behind Mukta, who leaned cupped hands against her desk. “Justice, we have some bad news to impart.”
Justice put up her hands in a stop gesture. “If it’s worse than ‘your school was bombed by one of your traitor siblings,’ I don’t want to hear it.”
Leland, his usual ramrod straight posture, ran a hand through military-short silver hair and cleared a throat that did nothing to ease the rasp in his voice. “We believe your father is involved with the traitor.”
What? That was the way they were going to go? Not, “Justice, we’re very sorry your father has been murdered.”
Justice shook her head. “Cooper? He’s drugged out. Not capable of conspiring with anyone.”
Mukta slid a bracelet up her arm, then another. “He’s capable of following instructions, coming to see his daughter, and reporting back to the Brothers. He’s capable of meeting with one of your siblings, following their orders, and getting in touch with Walid.”
Justice reached for the locket around her neck. She clasped it. “You think Cooper helped whoever betrayed us?”
“More than that,” Leland said. “We think he was a go-between, informing Walid and taking money for the job. We also believe he helped orchestrate the attack on the school.”
“The attack? You think he worked with Walid?”
Damn, these people liked to keep stuff to themselves.
Mukta Parish shook her head. “No. All signs suggest the attack was an inside job. Few would have the knowledge to avoid security. And though the traitor could have passed this information to him, I sincerely doubt Walid would target areas devoid of people.”
“In fact,” Leland said, “we believe the drone attack was the family member’s plan.”
“What proof do you have it’s not Walid?” Justice asked. “Gracie thinks this is all s
trategic. Keep us in the school. Keep us busy. Get rid of the kids. And then Walid can move forward with a second attack.”
Mukta and Leland shared a look. Mukta uncupped her hands, laid them flat on the desk. “I believe our gentle Bridget is behind everything. There was written evidence in Cooper’s apartment, communications between them. Not only that, she and Cooper were part of the same Buddhist temple. And she has implicated herself with prior statements and by repeatedly advising her siblings to resist training.”
Come on. They were really laying a lot on Justice right now. This seemed cruel. This was not how he’d have handled this. Give her a chance to understand Cooper was dead, then break it all down.
Justice drew in a sharp, pained breath and shook her head. “Coop. Bridget and Coop? Are you sure it’s her? Dada is sleeping with her informant. Tony is so angry. And Gracie practically gave me Walid’s plan of action. She’s also a tech genius. Could easily access computer info like my GPS. And how did Bridget operate the drones?”
Leland tugged at the button on his suit coat’s sleeve. “According to the FBI, the drones were preprogrammed. She could have hired someone for that. As for the GPS, we don’t know.”
Justice shot to her feet. “This isn’t horseshoes, Leland. We find out. We bring Bridget and Cooper in. We question them.”
Enough. What was this game? Sandesh grabbed Justice’s hand. She looked down at him. “He’s dead, Justice. Cooper was killed. I found him tortured in his apartment. Most likely by Walid.”
Justice sat with a pained sigh. “Tortured?” She stared at him, then her eyes narrowed and turned on Leland. “You dragged Sandesh into this?”
Sandesh put a hand on her knee. She was shaking. “I was asked to go. No dragging involved. And no danger to me. Leland had the place cleaned. Made it look like Cooper had taken off for good.”
The tension around her eyes didn’t ease. In fact, it tightened. “Cooper. I almost believed him. And now he’s taken another of my sisters.”
Technically, it wasn’t Cooper who’d started it all. But it was probably easier for her to blame him than her sibling.
I Am Justice Page 20