Justice Undercover

by Connie Queen

  This time, she heard footfalls in the thick underbrush just off the trail. No doubt someone moved close behind. But were they after her or just taking a different route?

  A swoosh of air hissed by. A silencer?

  Belle waited for the impact of a bullet but instead she heard Justice let out a soft whine. Then her beautiful, brave partner fell over on his side, a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his right shoulder. He lifted his head and whimpered, his eyes beseeching. Then he passed out, his head dropping.

  “No,” Belle screamed. “No, Justice, no. Get up, boy.”

  Belle knelt next to Justice and scanned the woods and paths. Before she could get a fix on who had shot the tranquilizer, big hands grabbed her from behind and squeezed at her midsection, knocking the air out of her lungs. A sweaty man pulled her up against his chest, his hand moist and rancid-smelling over her mouth, his big signet ring digging against her skin. “Now you’ll pay for what you did.”

  Using all of her might, Belle grunted and tried to trip her captor, but he slapped at her and then flipped her around to face him. He wore a black baseball-style hat and dark shades. She fought to get free while she studied his face, but he held her back and then shoved his hands around her neck.

  Choking, Belle tried to grab at his hands but the pressure of his splayed fingers digging into her neck and cutting off her air supply caused her head to swim. Stars pricked at her eyes. Fighting against him, Belle knew she’d faint soon, and he’d finish the job. She tried again to save herself, kicking at him, but he shifted back. She grasped his sweaty shirt and raked her fingernails down the thin dark material, hoping to save some DNA. That gave her an opportunity to smash her heavy black boot against his left foot, bearing down enough that he screamed in pain. With all her might, she tried to free her arms so she could get to her weapon.

  But he didn’t let go. Instead, the angry brute applied more pressure as he shoved her down to the hard asphalt and held her throat, his grunts matching each increase of force against her neck and windpipe.

  She blinked, kicked, wished Justice would wake up and attack. Prayed she’d be able to use what strength she had left to get this brute’s hands off her neck. But the stars bursting against her skull like a sci-fi war began to explode with pain now.

  She wasn’t going to make it. This man was going to get the best of her if she didn’t find one last measure of force. With a grunt that took every bit of her strength, she shifted her body and dropped both her hands to her side, causing him to think he’d finally done her in. When he released the pressure, Belle reached for her weapon. The man pushed at her arm, making her unable to shoot. She slammed the weapon hard against his head.

  He yelled and blinked, rage turning his olive skin red. Knocking her gun loose, he sent it flying onto the grass. “You just made your last mistake.” His hands renewed their assault and this time, Belle had no energy left to fight.

  But somewhere through the ringing in her ears, Belle heard a shout. “US Marshal! Let go of the woman and show me your hands.”

  The man stopped, his nasty clammy fingers lifting away from her neck, his grunt of frustration loud. He looked down at Belle, rage pouring off him along with sweat. Belle blinked and started coughing.

  The man who’d shouted at her attacker inched his way closer and repeated, “I said get away from the officer. Now.”

  Her attacker crouched near and gave her one last hostile glare, then shot up and spun away. Still disoriented, she heard a grunt and then realized he had pulled out a gun. As a last resort if choking her wasn’t going to work?

  Belle tried to get to where he’d tossed her weapon but shots rang out, causing her to throw herself over Justice. The man took off running into the nearby woods, shooting backward toward her and her rescuer before he scrambled into the heavy thicket.

  Then she heard the sound again. A motor revving. The same motorcycle she’d heard earlier?

  “You all right?” the marshal asked as he ran toward her.

  “Sí,” she managed to croak out. “Yes,” she repeated, her shocked brain registering her lapse into Spanish. This man had to be her contact. “Go. Find him.”

  He took off, but Belle knew the perpetrator was probably long gone. She crawled toward her weapon, then hurried back to Justice.

  Belle clung to the dog, more concerned about her partner right now than the man getting away. She thought she had a good description of her attacker and she’d remember that chunky ring jabbing against her skin. How would she ever get his angry expression and the feel of his beefy hands out of her system?

  “Justice.” She knew he’d have to sleep this off, but she prayed it wasn’t worse. Her partner had to wake up. They’d been together since day one. She trusted this loyal shepherd with her life and today she’d let him down by not being as diligent as she should have been.

  Her hands shaking, she reached for her cell to call for backup.

  Before she could get her bearings, the man who’d gone after her attacker came crashing through the underbrush and then kneeled down beside her, his phone to his ear. “US Marshal Emmett Gage. Need backup and an ambulance at Cadman Plaza Park. Assault on a police officer, shots fired. Suspect headed west into wooded area north of Tillary.”

  “Motorcycle,” she whispered. “I heard one.”

  Emmett repeated to the dispatcher what she’d told him.

  “Justice needs help,” Belle gasped, her throat raw with pain while she pointed to the big shepherd. “Ask for veterinary help. Tell them I’m Brooklyn K-9 Unit Officer Belle Montera, Emergency Services, and that my partner, Justice, was hit with a tranquilizer dart.”

  The man beside her gave her a surprised stare but reported her words to the dispatcher. Then he put the phone on speaker while he checked her over, his steel-blue eyes burning her like a laser, his frown set in place and his demeanor nothing but professional. “Victim has ligature marks around her neck and bruises to her face and hands. Eyes somewhat bloodshot. Hurry.”

  Belle took in deep breaths while she studied US Marshal Emmett Gage. His official photo didn’t do him justice. Once they’d found him as a match to the DNA, she’d immediately vetted the man. Tall with stormy blue eyes and hair the color of dry wheat. Stoic, standoffish and serious—that’s how people described the man. But one of the best in doing his job. He’d helped hunt down and bring in dangerous fugitives from all over the country.

  He looked tough and no-nonsense and she immediately felt better. No, she felt safe. Up until this moment, Belle had always taken care of herself. But right now, she allowed this man to comfort her. Shock. She had to be in shock from the attack.

  Trying to focus while the marshal at her side stayed on the phone, Belle went over the case to calm her frantic mind.

  Penelope and Bradley McGregor, her colleagues—Penny the front desk clerk and Bradley a K-9 detective, deserved justice for their parents’ murders, which had gone unsolved for so long. As did little Lucy Emery, whose parents were killed with the same MO on the twentieth anniversary of the McGregor murders. Like toddler Lucy, Penny, then four, had been spared by the killer, disguised in a clown mask and blue wig. Lucy was an only child, but Penny’s brother, Bradley, had been sleeping over at a friend’s house the night of the homicides, and the fourteen-year-old had been unfairly deemed a suspect for too long. The recent murders had brought up all kinds of questions and, so far, very few answers.

  Tonight, despite almost being killed herself, Belle still planned to interrogate Emmett Gage.

  Now, she could vouch for how the people she’d questioned had described Emmett. His calm radiated a commanding respect, but he seemed as tightly coiled as a giant snake and ready to strike. Yet he managed to hold all that power in check while he tried to keep her calm and watch his own back at the same time.

  His voice went low and husky when his gaze softened on her as if she were the only person i
n the world. “Backup’s on the way.”

  He checked Justice, rubbing the still animal’s stomach. “His pulse is weak, but I’m guessing the tranquilizer won’t keep him down long.” Lifting his chin toward the dart, he added, “Your lab can analyze this to see what they used. The dispatcher said they’d get in touch with the unit’s official vet.”

  Touched that he’d been concerned, Belle nodded and tried to speak. Then she pushed with her bruised, burning hands on the gritty walkway and tried to stand. But she promptly plopped back down into a sitting position, the dizziness swirling inside her head making her nauseous.

  “Don’t,” he said, steadying her. “You’ll be hoarse for a while and your shoulders and neck will hurt and be sore. A lot. You might have fuzzy memories and nightmares for a brief time, too. Strangulation is nothing to take lightly.”

  She swallowed, wishing she had some cold water. “You’ve been choked before?” she asked on a whisper.

  He let out what might have been a chopped-up chuckle. “One or two times when I’ve wrestled with junkies full of drugs and adrenaline.”

  Pushing at her lopsided ponytail, she croaked, “He got the jump on me.”

  His eyes softened. “Don’t like that, huh?”

  She shook her head, mortified that she hadn’t managed to shake her attacker. “I’m usually more prepared.”

  With a curt nod, he stood and searched around for any evidence of who might have attacked her. Then he sank down beside her as sirens shrilled in the distance. “You were headed to meet me, right?”

  She nodded. “I need—”

  “We’ll discuss that later,” he responded, getting up to wave to the EMTs and the patrol officer running toward them. “Right now, let’s get you and your partner some help.”

  Belle could only keep nodding as her adrenaline rush slowly began to sink down while the shakes took over. She wouldn’t let anyone see her falling apart but she did feel an overwhelming gratitude toward Emmett Gage.

  The man she’d come here to interrogate had just saved her life.

  * * *

  Emmett kept a close eye on the woman impatiently waiting for the paramedics to return from giving Gavin a report so she could sign off on no further treatment. She tapped her hands against the ambulance door and strained her neck to see what was holding them up.

  To keep her calm, he started talking. “I live in Dumbo, but I got home late. If I’d left a few minutes earlier—”

  “He might have shot you,” she said on a raw whisper. Then she looked up at him with eyes the color of dark rich wood. “Thank you for helping me with Justice. I need to make sure he’ll be all right.”

  Emmett glanced to where the dog had been moved off the path. “He should be fine. Might be off his game for a few days, though.”

  “I think we’ll both need to debrief,” she replied, checking on the still-unconscious K-9 again.

  When she moved to get up, Emmett held her back. “He’s sleeping. You need to sit here for a minute.”

  “I’m not good at sitting,” she admitted. Giving him a questioning glance, she asked, “So you know why I wanted to talk to you, right?”

  Emmett nodded. “I wasn’t late in an attempt to put off talking to you. I got held up with some red tape regarding a case we just closed.”

  “But you had good timing, anyway,” she said on a husky whisper, each word forced through pain.

  “Thankful for that,” he replied, taking his time in studying her. Her dark hair shimmered in the waning sunshine, but her eyes went dark each time she glanced at the still canine beside her.

  Belle fidgeted and glanced around again. “Why are the paramedics still talking to Sarge? I told them when they examined me earlier, I’m fine.”

  “You should go to the hospital.”

  “No. I can’t leave Justice.” She stood and leaned on the back of the ambulance, clearly not happy. “I can sign off. I don’t need anything. Is our veterinarian on her way?”

  “I heard your sergeant say she is,” Emmett told Belle, thinking the officer was single-minded about her partner. A good trait, but he wished he could reassure her about the canine. “Bringing her van and a special wheeled cot to get Justice back to her office in the K-9 training center. He’ll have his own dog-sized gurney.”

  He offered Belle some water and she took a tentative sip, then said, “I want to go straight there.”

  Emmett didn’t argue with her, but he figured the K-9 would sleep most of the night. “Then I’ll make sure you get there.” When he glanced up and saw an auburn-haired female wearing silver glasses approaching with a small rolling cot, Emmett touched Belle’s arm. “I think your vet is here.”

  Belle’s head shot up as she hurried toward the veterinarian, her anxious eyes showing fatigue and concern.

  While Belle talked to the doctor, Emmett thought back over the meeting they hadn’t had yet.

  Worry gnawed at his gut while he wondered about her. According to the request that had come into his office, she needed to verify the hit the NYPD had received that revealed his DNA matched the sample found on a watchband that had been collected as evidence at the cold-case murder site. Emmett could probably answer her question without a doubt. The DNA might be a match for his, but twenty years ago, he’d been twelve years old, living in South Brooklyn with his parents and grandparents, all of whom were dead now.

  The Brooklyn K-9 Unit needed information on the unknown relative he’d matched and since he only had one living relative who could have possibly been in the area, he was pretty sure he knew who they were looking for.

  Randall Gage. But he couldn’t picture his dad’s cousin Randall as a murderer. Always in trouble and always with one foot in the fire, yes. But capable of murder? What if Randall was? How would Emmett handle that?

  Emmett wanted to get to the bottom of this and fast.

  But first he needed to convince Belle Montera that she should go home and rest. Or go somewhere close. His place wasn’t far from here. Taking her there, however, might turn out to be more difficult than tracking the fugitive he’d been chasing over the last two days. She’d balk at that suggestion.

  From the way Belle was questioning the calm, patient veterinarian, he had a feeling she’d rather be with her partner right now than find out any facts from Emmett. The woman had been almost choked to death and her partner had been tranquilized. She was still in shock and worried about her K-9.

  “Let me help, Dr. Mazelli,” he said when the tiny woman tried to lift the dog. Justice had to weigh at least eighty pounds.

  “Thank you,” Dr. Mazelli said. “Belle should go home. Based on whatever was in that dart, Justice should wake up in an hour or so but he’ll be too groggy to notice anything, so it’s best if he has some quiet time. He should be fine tomorrow, but we’ll keep him off duty for a couple of days to be sure.”

  “You might want to convince Officer Montera of that,” Emmett replied. “She’s insisting she wants to stay the night with him.”

  After they’d lifted Justice up onto the cart, the doctor went over to where Belle stood talking to Sergeant Sutherland.

  The vet touched the officer’s arm and told her in a gentle tone that the best thing she could do was get some rest. “Justice will be fine with me. I won’t leave him alone, Belle, I promise. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “Do as she suggests,” Gavin told Belle as Emmett came hurrying up to them. “That’s an order.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Rest, Belle,” Gavin added.

  “I’ll get her home,” Emmett said, daring anyone to argue with him. He and Gavin had been officially introduced earlier so he hoped he wasn’t overstepping.

  The tough-looking sergeant stared him down, then said in a gruff voice, “Good idea. You two have some unfinished business, anyway. And when you’re done, I’d like a full re
port.”

  Sutherland didn’t give Belle time to argue. He marched off to talk to the other K-9 officers moving across the park. When her unit had heard the call coming through, they’d all come to assist. Dedicated and tenacious.

  Both she and Emmett had given their statements, but Emmett had noticed Sergeant Sutherland sizing him up earlier. Impressed that her commander hadn’t taken over the task he’d sent her to do, Emmett decided Gavin Sutherland was tough but fair. He’d want answers, but he’d let Belle do her job to get them.

  Belle turned to the dog sleeping on the cart. “I’ll walk with you back to your van,” she said to Dr. Mazelli before glancing over at Emmett. “I don’t like this but an order’s an order.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Emmett offered. “After you see Justice off, we can go somewhere and have our talk if you feel up to it.”

  Once they had the dog settled in the back of the big van, Belle rubbed Justice’s fur and patted him on his head, her eyes misty. “I’ll check on you soon, Justice. I promise.”

  “I’ll call in about an hour or so,” the doc said. “I’ll give you a full report.”

  “Gracias,” Belle replied, reminding Emmett of her Hispanic heritage. Then she turned back to Emmett. “I live in Fort Greene, but I can take a train home.”

  The rain came then, fat cold drops that would soon turn into a downpour. They took cover under the trees.

  “My place is close by,” he said, glancing at the dark sky. “We can talk in private there and...I can keep an eye on you. I’ll give you a ride home later.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said on a huff of breath, exhaustion tugging at her. “But the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go and see Justice. If your place will get me out of this rain, I’ll go. But you don’t have to worry about taking me home. I’ll spend the night at the station so I can be near my partner.”

  Emmett decided not to argue with Belle Montera.

  But he was curious about more than the DNA match the K-9 team had discovered.