Mission: Her Justice

by Anna Hackett

  Hmm. As Jonah had turned it over in his head, the more he could see it. “As long as you sleep in my bed every night, I don’t care what you do.”

  Coming back to the present, he sipped his wine. He and Director Kauffman had pulled a few strings. Evan had entered a specialized training program at the LVMPD to get up to speed on local police work, but they took into account her experience with the CIA. She was now Officer Evan Fletcher, assigned to MacKade’s team, and on a fast track to getting her detective badge.

  A part of Jonah was still disappointed not to have someone with her skills on Team 52, but she’d told him that he was more important to her. That their relationship came first, and she wouldn’t jeopardize it by working together.

  Jonah focused back on Lachlan. “So what have you got planned for your week off?”

  “I might rent a suite at a casino for a few days,” Lachlan mused. “Convince Rowan to wear a sexy dress, and hit the gaming tables.”

  Jonah ran his tongue along his teeth. “If it’s the Aurora Casino, keep Rowan away from the roof terrace.”

  That earned him a flat stare from Lachlan. The mission that had brought the pair together had involved them taking a tumble off the glass roof of the Aurora, into the casino pool.

  “Oh, my God!”

  January’s exclamation made Jonah swivel.

  The woman was standing, cradling her belly, a puddle beneath her on the floor.

  The normally cool Seth was staring at her, white faced.

  “My water broke.”

  “What?” Seth blinked and looked like he’d prefer to face down an armed gang of terrorists. “But we have three weeks left.”

  “Tell that to our baby, 007.”

  “Stay calm,” Callie said.

  “Babies take a while to come, right?” Seth rubbed January’s back. “We have loads of time.”

  “Ow.” January doubled over.

  “Breathe,” Callie said.

  “My God, it hurts,” January hissed.

  “Callie, do something,” Seth said.

  January groaned, then lifted her hand. It was smeared with blood.

  Jonah realized that the fluid under January wasn’t just whatever the hell a baby floated in. She was bleeding.

  Seth went sheet-white.

  “We need to get her to the hospital,” Callie said. “Now.”

  “I’ll drive,” MacKade said.

  There was a flurry of activity as the entire team prepared to head to the Desert Springs Hospital. Blair attempted to keep a panicked Seth calm, while Callie helped January. Once they were safely loaded into MacKade’s SUV, Jonah led Evan to his Jag.

  “Well, this isn’t how we envisioned tonight going,” she said.

  Jonah merged into traffic, his hands tight on the wheel.

  “Hey.” She touched his arm. “It’ll be fine. The baby will be fine. They do this kind of thing all the time.”

  “You have lots of experience with childbirth and babies?”

  She shuddered. “No.”

  He was quiet for second. “You want one?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “A baby?” Her voice rose to a squeak.

  “Yes, a baby. One we’d make together.”

  Her cheeks turned white.

  Jonah fought a smile. “After we get married, of course.”

  Her eyes widened more.

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m not talking today, or tomorrow, or even next week.”

  She released a long breath. “Right.” A pause. “Yeah, I want one. If it’s ours.”

  He smiled.

  At the hospital, Team 52 and their partners filled the waiting room. Seth and January had been whisked away by the hospital staff.

  Raquel sorted out coffees for everyone. Jonah was worried about Seth. The man had been through a lot. January had helped him fight some of those demons, but if something went wrong with her or the baby…

  “Here.” Evan pushed a takeout coffee cup into Jonah’s hand. “Have some really mediocre brown water.”

  He sipped and grimaced. She wasn’t joking.

  Everyone was tense. Lachlan was pacing, Blair looked like she wanted to hit someone.

  A man dressed as Elvis poked his head into the room, looked around, then backed out. Only in Vegas.

  A door opened. Seth, looking dapper in blue scrubs, appeared. The man had a wide smile on his face and a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms.

  Relief shot through Jonah.

  The bundle let out a loud, angry cry.

  “January’s fine. Amazing.” Seth beamed. “And so is my daughter.”

  Everyone mobbed him, and the baby continued to wail.

  “Nothing wrong with her lungs,” Blair noted.

  “What’s her name?” Kinsey asked.

  “No idea. January and I have been arguing over names for weeks.” Seth smiled down at his daughter. “We’ll work it out.”

  “Congratulations, Daddy,” Jonah said.

  Seth blinked. “I’m a daddy.”

  Jonah lifted his coffee cup. “Here’s to the next generation of Team 52.”

  Cheers and whistles filled the room.

  With Evan tucked under his arm, Jonah watched his team members and the people they loved ooh and aah over the new baby.

  These men and women would risk their lives to protect their country, the innocent, the world. And they’d risk everything for the people they loved.

  “I love you, Jonah Grayson,” Evan murmured.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, holding the woman he loved close. “I love you, too.”

  I hope you enjoyed Evan and Jonah’s story!

  I have absolutely loved writing the high-octane adventures of Team 52. It’s allowed me to mix in my love of ancient history, and spend time with these amazing, tough characters. The series might be over, but I have no doubt, Team 52 will continue to keep the world safe.

  For more action-packed romance, and maybe a few cameos from Team 52, take a look at the Norcross Security series starring Vander Norcross and his team. Read on for a preview of The Investigator.

  Don’t miss out! For updates about new releases, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

  Visit here to get started: www.annahackett.com

  Preview: The Investigator

  There was a glass of chardonnay with her name on it waiting for her at home.

  Haven McKinney smiled. The museum was closed, and she was done for the day.

  As she walked across the East gallery of the Hutton Museum, her heels clicked on the marble floor.

  God, she loved the place. The creamy marble that made up the flooring and wrapped around the grand pillars was gorgeous. It had that hushed air of grandeur that made her heart squeeze a little every time she stepped inside. But more than that, the amazing art the Hutton housed sang to the art lover in her blood.

  Snagging a job here as the curator six months ago had been a dream come true. She’d been at a low point in her life. Very low. Haven swallowed a snort and circled a stunning white-marble sculpture of a naked, reclining woman with the most perfect resting bitch face. She’d never guessed that her life would come crashing down at age twenty-nine.

  She lifted her chin. Miami was her past. The Hutton and San Francisco were her future. No more throwing caution to the wind. She had a plan, and she was sticking to it.

  She paused in front of a stunning exhibit of traditional Chinese painting and calligraphy. It was one of their newer exhibits, and had been Haven’s brainchild. Nearby, an interactive display was partially assembled. Over the next few days, her staff would finish the installation. Excitement zipped through Haven. She couldn’t wait to have the touchscreens operational. It was her passion to make art more accessible, especially to children. To help them be a part of it, not just look at it. To learn, to feel, to enjoy.

  Art had helped her through some of the toughest times in her life, and she wanted to s
hare that with others.

  She looked at the gorgeous old paintings again. One portrayed a mountainous landscape with beautiful maple trees. It soothed her nerves.

  Wine would soothe her nerves, as well. Right. She needed to get upstairs to her office and grab her handbag, then get an Uber home.

  Her cell phone rang and she unclipped it from the lanyard she wore at the museum. “Hello?”

  “Change of plans, girlfriend,” a smoky female voice said. “Let’s go out and celebrate being gorgeous, successful, and single. I’m done at the office, and believe me, it has been a grueling day.”

  Haven smiled at her new best friend. She’d met Gia Norcross when she joined the Hutton. Gia’s wealthy brother, Easton Norcross, owned the museum, and was Haven’s boss. The museum was just a small asset in the businessman’s empire. Haven suspected Easton owned at least a third of San Francisco. Maybe half.

  She liked and respected her boss. Easton could be tough, but he valued her opinions. And she loved his bossy, take-charge, energetic sister. Gia ran a highly successful PR firm in the city, and did all the PR and advertising for the Hutton. They’d met not long after Haven had started work at the museum.

  After their first meeting, Gia had dragged Haven out to her favorite restaurant and bar, and the rest was history.

  “I guess making people’s Instagram look pretty and not staged is hard work,” Haven said with a grin.

  “Bitch.” Gia laughed. “God, I had a meeting with a businessman caught in…well, let’s just say he and his assistant were not taking notes on the boardroom table.”

  Haven felt an old, unwelcome memory rise up. She mentally stomped it down. “I don’t feel sorry for the cheating asshole, I feel sorry for whatever poor shmuck got more than they were paid for when they walked into the boardroom.”

  “Actually, it was the cheating businessman’s wife.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “And the assistant was male,” Gia added.

  “Double uh-oh.”

  “Then said cheater comes to my PR firm, telling me to clean up his mess, because he’s thinking he might run for governor one day. I mean, I’m good, but I can’t wrangle miracles.”

  Haven suspected that Gia had verbally eviscerated the man and sent him on his way. Gia Norcross had a sharp tongue, and wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “So, grueling day and I need alcohol. I’ll meet you at ONE65, and the first drink is on me.”

  “I’m pretty wiped, Gia—”

  “Uh-uh, no excuses. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that, Gia was gone.

  Haven clipped her phone to her lanyard. Well, it looked like she was having that chardonnay at ONE65, the six-story, French dining experience Gia loved. Each level offered something different, from patisserie, to bistro and grill, to bar and lounge.

  Haven walked into the museum’s main gallery, and her blood pressure dropped to a more normal level. It was her favorite space in the museum. The smell of wood, the gorgeous lights gleaming overhead, and the amazing paintings combined to create a soothing room. She smoothed her hands down her fitted, black skirt. Haven was tall, at five foot eight, and curvy, just like her mom had been. Her boobs, currently covered by a cute, white blouse with a tie around her neck, weren’t much to write home about, but she had to buy her skirts one size bigger. She sighed. No matter how much she walked or jogged—blergh, okay, she didn’t jog much—she still had an ass.

  Even in her last couple of months in Miami, when stress had caused her to lose a bunch of weight due to everything going on, her ass hadn’t budged.

  Memories of Miami—and her douchebag-of-epic-proportions-ex—threatened, churning like storm clouds on the horizon.

  Nope. She locked those thoughts down. She was not going there.

  She had a plan, and the number one thing for taking back and rebuilding her life was no men. She’d sworn off anyone with a Y chromosome.

  She didn’t need one, didn’t want one, she was D-O-N-E, done.

  She stopped in front of the museum’s star attraction. Claude Monet’s Water Lilies.

  Haven loved the impressionist’s work. She loved the colors, the delicate strokes. This one depicted water lilies and lily pads floating on a gentle pond. His paintings always made an impact, and had a haunting, yet soothing feel to them.

  It was also worth just over a hundred million dollars.

  The price tag still made her heart flutter. She’d put a business case to Easton, and they’d purchased the painting three weeks ago at auction. Haven had planned out the display down to the rivets used on the wood. She’d thrown herself into the project.

  Gia had put together a killer marketing campaign, and Haven had reluctantly been interviewed by the local paper. But it had paid off. Ticket sales to the museum were up, and everyone wanted to see Water Lilies.

  Footsteps echoed through the empty museum, and she turned to see a uniformed security guard appear in the doorway.

  “Ms. McKinney?”

  “Yes, David? I was just getting ready to leave.”

  “Sorry to delay you. There’s a delivery truck at the back entrance. They say they have a delivery of a Zadkine bronze.”

  Haven frowned, running through the next day’s schedule in her head. “That’s due tomorrow.”

  “It sounds like they had some other deliveries nearby and thought they’d squeeze it in.”

  She glanced at her slim, silver wristwatch, fighting back annoyance. She’d had a long day, and now she’d be late to meet Gia. “Fine. Have them bring it in.”

  With a nod, David disappeared. Haven pulled out her phone and quickly fired off a text to warn Gia that she’d be late. Then Haven headed up to her office, and checked her notes for tomorrow. She had several calls to make to chase down some pieces for a new exhibit she wanted to launch in the winter. There were some restoration quotes to go over, and a charity gala for her art charity to plan. She needed to get down into the storage rooms and see if there was anything they could cycle out and put on display.

  God, she loved her job. Not many people would get excited about digging around in dusty storage rooms, but Haven couldn’t wait.

  She made sure her laptop was off and grabbed her handbag. She slipped her lanyard off and stuffed her phone in her bag.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard a strange noise from the gallery. A muffled pop, then a thump.

  Frowning, she took one step toward the gallery.

  Suddenly, David staggered through the doorway, a splotch of red on his shirt.

  Haven’s pulse spiked. Oh God, was that blood? “David—”

  “Run.” He collapsed to the floor.

  Fear choking her, she kicked off her heels and spun. She had to get help.

  But she’d only taken two steps when a hand sank into her hair, pulling her neat twist loose, and sending her brown hair cascading over her shoulders.

  “Let me go!”

  She was dragged into the main gallery, and when she lifted her head, her gut churned.

  Five men dressed in black, all wearing balaclavas, stood in a small group.

  No…oh, no.

  Their other guard, Gus, stood with his hands in the air. He was older, former military. She was shoved closer toward him.

  “Ms. McKinney, you okay?” Gus asked.

  She managed a nod. “They shot David.”

  “I kn—”

  “No talking,” one man growled.

  Haven lifted her chin. “What do you want?” There was a slight quaver in her voice.

  The man who’d grabbed her glared. His cold, blue eyes glittered through the slits in his balaclava. Then he ignored her, and with the others, they turned to face the Water Lilies.

  Haven’s stomach dropped. No. This couldn’t be happening.

  A thin man moved forward, studying the painting’s gilt frame with gloved hands. “It’s wired to an alarm.”

  Blue Eyes, clearly the group’s leader, turned and aimed the gun at Gus’ barrel ches
t. “Disconnect it.”

  “No,” the guard said belligerently.

  “I’m not asking.”

  Haven held up her hands. “Please—”

  The gun fired. Gus dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

  “No!” she cried.

  The leader stepped forward and pressed the gun to the older man’s head.

  “No.” Haven fought back her fear and panic. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll disconnect it.”

  Slowly, she inched toward the painting, carefully avoiding the thin man still standing close to it. She touched the security panel built in beside the frame, pressing her palm to the small pad.

  A second later, there was a discreet beep.

  Two other men came forward and grabbed the frame.

  She glanced around at them. “You’re making a mistake. If you know who owns this museum, then you know you won’t get away with this.” Who would go up against the Norcross family? Easton, rich as sin, had a lot of connections, but his brother, Vander… Haven suppressed a shiver. Gia’s middle brother might be hot, but he scared the bejesus out of Haven.

  Vander Norcross, former military badass, owned Norcross Security and Investigations. His team had put in the high-tech security for the museum.

  No one in their right mind wanted to go up against Vander, or the third Norcross brother who also worked with Vander, or the rest of Vander’s team of badasses.

  “Look, if you just—”

  The blow to her head made her stagger. She blinked, pain radiating through her face. Blue Eyes had backhanded her.

  He moved in and hit her again, and Haven cried out, clutching her face. It wasn’t the first time she’d been hit. Her douchebag ex had hit her once. That was the day she’d left him for good.

  But this was worse. Way worse.

  “Shut up, you stupid bitch.”

  The next blow sent her to the floor. She thought she heard someone chuckle. He followed with a kick to her ribs, and Haven curled into a ball, a sob in her throat.

  Her vision wavered and she blinked. Blue Eyes crouched down, putting his hand to the tiles right in front of her. Dizziness hit her, and she vaguely took in the freckles on the man’s hand. They formed a spiral pattern.