Vow of Justice

by Lynette Eason

  Snatching her phone from the counter, she headed for the kitchen when the device buzzed.

  Linc

  I’m going to be late. Sorry. Lots of paperwork and questions.

  She could imagine. No doubt when she decided to rise from the dead, she’d face the same thing. She checked her alarm. The doors were armed, but honestly, that brought her very little comfort. She knew she had agents watching from afar, and that helped. If something were to happen, it would take them a bit of time to get to her, but that was the plan. She had to look like she was home alone. Henry would case the place before he made his move, and he’d spot any watchdogs in a heartbeat.

  After pacing a hole in the hardwoods, Allie moved the recliner into the farthest corner of the room, where her back was literally against the wall. She settled into the chair and drew in a deep breath. Fatigue pulled at her, reminding her she wasn’t at a hundred percent yet. Her lids drooped and with her fingers wrapped around the grip of the Glock, she finally gave in to the need for sleep.

  30

  Linc finally walked out of the conference room at the Bureau office. They all knew Allie was alive now and he was to pass the word that she was to show up tomorrow morning at nine sharp. As he headed to the Thai restaurant, he grappled with something that was bothering him.

  Henry Ogden had chartered a flight to Mexico.

  Henry Ogden had.

  Or had he?

  And that’s what bothered him. It was too easy. Too . . . pat. Everything had been nicely tied up in a pretty little bow.

  He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and snatched his phone to dial Annie’s number.

  She answered, her voice husky with sleep. “Linc . . .” She groaned. “Do you know how many hours I’ve been awake?”

  “I do, but I think Allie could still be in danger. Can you help me out?”

  “She’s got guards on her place as a precaution, doesn’t she?”

  “Of course.”

  “All right. Tell me what you need.” All traces of sleep were gone.

  “Can you get the security footage from Watson’s Airstrip?” A private company that chartered flights, the one Henry had supposedly chartered for Mexico. “I want to see who actually got on the plane. If it was Henry, fine. If it wasn’t, then Allie’s still in danger.”

  “I’ll need a warrant.”

  “I’m not worried about using this in court, I just need to make sure I’m wrong. Or right. Please.”

  She sighed. “Fine, but if this comes back to bite me, I’m blaming you.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  While Annie got herself situated at her home computer, Linc texted Allie.

  Any sign of Henry?

  His next text went to Mark King.

  Head to Allie’s apartment. Not sure this is over yet.

  He gave him the address.

  “Okay, I’ve got it,” Annie said. “What am I looking for?”

  “Footage of everyone who walked into that office yesterday or this afternoon. Tell me if you see Henry. Oh, he may have a sling on his arm. Nevsky shot him in the shoulder.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.” She fell silent and the seconds ticked into minutes. “Well?”

  “This is a busy place, Linc, hold on.”

  He held. Barely. He put his Suburban into drive and backed out of the parking spot. “I’m heading to Allie’s while you search. Call me when you know something.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks, Annie, I owe you.”

  “Yes, you do, but I’ll be in touch.” She hung up.

  Linc pressed the gas harder and turned his blue lights on.

  Allie woke to an all-encompassing, mind-numbing fear. Gasping, she shot out of the chair and aimed her weapon at the door.

  Seconds passed.

  Nothing.

  The apartment was dark. She’d forgotten to turn some lights on before falling asleep.

  “Just another nightmare,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Just a dream.”

  The wind ruffled her hair and she froze. Wind?

  Turning to her right, she noted the piece of plywood that had covered the broken part of her sliding glass door was no longer there. Instead, she could see the complex lights through the gaping hole.

  Someone had pulled the tape off and removed the piece while she slept. And she had a feeling she knew who. Sweat broke out across the base of her neck and her forehead, even as her fingers tightened around the grip of her weapon.

  “I know you’re here,” she said. Her phone buzzed indicating a text, but she refused to look away from the open area. “Come on, Henry, I know it’s you!”

  And then he stepped inside her apartment, gun raised. “Yes, Allie, it’s me.”

  “Thought you were in Mexico.”

  He laughed. “That’s what you were supposed to think. If everyone thought I was still in the vicinity, there would have been so much protection around you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

  “So, what now? I’m not going with you.”

  “No, I realize that.”

  His tone sent another dart of fear through her. “Okay, so why are you here, then?”

  He sighed. And looked almost sad. “I’m not meant for a life on the run.”

  “Oookay.”

  “But I can’t imagine life without you. Even the afterlife.”

  “So, you’re going to kill me and take me with you,” she said.

  “It’s the only way.”

  “Allie!”

  Linc’s voice registered and Henry’s lips tightened. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to speed things up a bit.” He leveled his weapon at her, center mass.

  She dove to the right as three shots rang out.

  Allie hit the floor, surprised when the only pain she felt was from banging her elbow too hard when she rolled.

  “Allie!”

  “Henry’s here! Stay back!”

  Pounding footsteps reached her and she surged to her feet, weapon aimed. Only to pause when she saw the body on the floor. Henry lay gasping, his hands clutching at the hardwoods, opening and closing. He finally gave one last coughing gasp and stilled.

  Running footsteps and her guards appeared, weapons drawn. She lifted a hand to let them know she was all right. They’d done what she’d asked. Stayed far enough away to ensure that Henry felt safe in approaching. It had been risky, but . . .

  Allie looked back to see Roland Carter, gun still pointed at Henry, standing just outside. “He was going to shoot you,” the former officer said.

  “I know. Thank you.” She paused. “How did you know to come to the rescue?”

  He gave her a faint smile. “I have a camera that monitors the back of the complex. It beeps every time something passes in front of it. Saw you sneak in and continued to monitor it.” He shrugged. “You never know who’s going to cause trouble around here.” He blew out a breath. “I knew you were alive, just not the reason you were pretending to be dead.” He glanced at Henry. “Now, I guess I know part of the story.”

  “I’ll tell you the rest sometime later.”

  He nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Linc and Mark, along with Brady, Izzy, Chloe, and Derek, stood watching them.

  “Allie?” Linc looked down at Henry, then at Roland, who set the gun on the floor and lifted his hands.

  “I got this,” Brady said. “Go check on her.”

  Linc bolted to her side and wrapped his hands around hers. She blinked and realized she was still aiming her weapon at Henry. She let Linc remove it from her numb hand and set it aside.

  “Allie?” he asked softly.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  “It’s over.”

  “Yes. It’s finally over.”

  He pulled her against his chest and she closed her eyes.

  It was over.

  And now it was time to start living the life she was created to live.

  “I love you,” he whispered
against her ear.

  “And I love you.”

  Epilogue

  Allie sat at the table between Linc and Daria while Derek cut the cards, then began to deal. Ruthie and her husband, Isaac, sat to Derek’s left. Izzy and Ryan on his right. Chloe, Blake, and their daughter, Rachel, had just arrived and taken their seats, while Brady and Emily whisper-argued in the kitchen.

  “What’s going on with them?” she asked Linc.

  He shook his head, his bemusement with his family clear on his handsome features. “I’m clueless.”

  The front door opened and Marcus St. John stepped inside the foyer to hang his raincoat on the hook. He removed his hat and swiped a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “It’s a soggy one out there.” He took in the sight at his dining room table and let out a mock groan. “It’s Phase 10 night?”

  “Never mind that,” Izzy said, popping up from her seat, “what took you so long?”

  He frowned at his daughter. “I texted Brady and told him I’d be a little later. What’s the rush?”

  “The family’s all here and Ryan and I have an announcement.”

  Tabitha St. John stepped out of the half bath off the hall and greeted her husband with a kiss. He smiled down at his wife, and Allie sucked in a breath at the love she saw the two still shared after nearly forty years of marriage. She snuck a look at Linc and found him watching her. With the same look on his face for her that she’d just seen on his father’s face. Her heart stuttered. Then sped up. She smiled and he gripped her hand, then leaned over to place a light, sweet kiss on her lips.

  Blake cleared his throat. “So, Chloe and I have an announcement too, but Izzy, you go first.”

  Brady and Emily finally joined them. They were holding hands, so whatever they’d been arguing about in the kitchen must not have been too big of a deal.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Brady said. “Emily and I have something we want to share too.”

  The elder St. Johns exchanged baffled looks and raised brows. “All right,” Tabitha said, “Izzy, you and Ryan first.”

  “We’re pregnant!” She practically squealed the words, and the grin that spread across Ryan’s face was priceless, in Allie’s opinion. She couldn’t help smiling too.

  The whoops and hollers along with hugs and a few tears took a while to die down, but Ryan finally stepped up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned against him beaming.

  Tabitha turned to Chloe. “And you, dear? What was it you wanted to share?”

  “Um . . . well . . . I don’t want to rain on Izzy’s parade now. It can wait.”

  Izzy’s brows shot up, then she narrowed her eyes at her sister. “You’re pregnant too?”

  Blake snorted. Chloe laughed. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Are you kidding me? That’s fabulous!” Izzy bounded over to Chloe and wrapped her in a hug. “How many weeks are you?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I’m fourteen!”

  “Oh, my stars,” their mother said, placing a hand over her heart. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Two grandbabies? It’s almost more than I can handle.”

  Brady cleared his throat and Emily giggled. Everyone stopped and stared.

  “You too?” Marcus finally asked.

  Emily nodded and Brady grinned. The same grin that Ryan still had on his face.

  “How many weeks?” Allie blurted.

  “Twelve.”

  “Unbelievable,” Linc said. “Well, I guess this calls for some major celebrations.”

  “Um, not just yet,” Ruthie said softly.

  All eyes turned to her and Isaac, who flushed a deep red but couldn’t seem to keep his lips from turning up. Ruthie lifted her hands, palms up. “Ten weeks.”

  Tabitha stumbled to the nearest chair and sank onto it. “Four grandbabies? I’m going to have to retire!” And she burst into tears.

  Her husband’s eyes were suspiciously wet as he gripped Tabitha’s hand. “They’re happy tears,” he said. “And she’s not really retiring.”

  “Yes I am!” the woman sobbed. “I get to take care of grandbabies!”

  Allie’s gaze bounced from one person to the next until her eyes finally locked on Linc’s. He leaned forward. “Can we make our announcement now?”

  She gaped. “I’m not pregnant!” The room went silent and Allie felt the heat sweep into her cheeks. “Er . . . well . . . I’m not.”

  Linc laughed. First a snort, then a full-on guffaw. Allie thought about punching him. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at him while his family snickered.

  When he got himself under control, he turned to his staring family. “Um, sorry. I need to talk to Allie outside. Congratulations, everyone.”

  His hand grasped hers and he pulled her out of the dining room, through the den, and out onto the porch, where he sat on the swing and directed Allie to the seat beside him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But . . .”

  “But?”

  He kissed her. Deeply, warmly, passionately. Allie’s heart thundered in her ears and she sank against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

  Finally, he lifted his head. “I love you. I think we’ve established that, right?”

  Allie leaned her forehead against his chest and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  He tilted her face back up to his. “Allie? Why so quiet?”

  “I’m trying to catch my breath and reboot my brain,” she finally said. “You can’t kiss a girl like that and then expect coherent conversation seconds later.”

  Linc threw back his head and laughed. And laughed . . . and laughed some more.

  “Get ahold of yourself, St. John. It wasn’t that funny—and I’m a little miffed you don’t have the same problem.”

  That set him off again. He finally got his chuckles under control and wiped his eyes. “Yeah, it kinda was that funny—and trust me, you take my breath away fifty-nine out of sixty minutes of every hour.” She raised a brow and he cleared his throat. “But anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I love you and I want to marry you, but I know you’re kind of leery about it, so I’ll give you all the time you need, but I just had to tell you because I’m going crazy keeping it inside—”

  Allie placed her finger against his lips. “I’d marry you tomorrow, Linc St. John.”

  “You would?”

  “I would.”

  “I believe that’s ‘I do,’” a voice said behind them. Derek, the rat. “But if you’re going to be a St. John,” he said, “you have to learn to play Phase Ten, so get in here, you two.”

  He ducked back inside and Linc scowled, but stood and pulled Allie up beside him. “In all of our get-togethers, you’ve never had the pleasure of joining in on a Phase Ten game with us, have you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then you need to understand that Derek cheats. So, you have to learn to cheat so you can beat him at his own game.”

  “I don’t cheat!” Derek called over his shoulder.

  “He cheats,” Linc muttered.

  “That’s okay,” Allie whispered, “I know how to play and I cheat really well.” She lifted a finger to her lips and winked.

  Linc gaped, then grinned and slung an arm around her shoulders. “That’s my girl.”

  And they went inside together, where Allie soaked in the love and acceptance of her new family. She sent up a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who’d made it happen.

  Then promptly stomped them all in the first game.

  Without cheating.

  1

  It had been a long day, and all Claire Montgomery wanted to do was crash on the couch with her microwave dinner and a cold glass of water—and try to forget the evil in the world. Just for a few minutes. Against her will, her to-do list started running like a ticker tape through her mind and she groaned.

  Rest would have to take a backseat to packing. Since accepting the jo
b as one of the supervisors for the forensics department in Asheville, North Carolina, three months ago, the commute was taking a huge toll on her, and she’d decided to start house hunting. In fact, if she hadn’t been able to continue to work from home two days a week, she’d already be living in an apartment somewhere near her office. But she didn’t want an apartment. She wanted a home.

  Now her schedule was about to change and she really needed to be in the office five—or more—days a week. Moving was her only option if she wanted the opportunity to enjoy that home.

  Claire parked in the drive, wishing she had a garage with a remote. “But you don’t, so quit whining and get inside where it’s warm.” However, she moved that little item up on the priority list for what she wanted in her forever house. Her house. Not a rental, but a home where she belonged.

  With a garage door that had a remote.

  She had to admit her little rental house was the first place that had come close to feeling like a real home. She’d miss it—and her landlord. Mr. Abrams was the best.

  She grabbed her bag with her laptop and other work notes from the passenger seat, climbed out of the Suburban, and slammed the door. Darkness had already fallen even though it was only a little after six o’clock, but night came early to the small town of Tanner Hollow during the winter months—and November was forecasted to be extra cold this year.

  “I think the weatherman got it right this time,” she muttered, shivering as a gust of wind found its way beneath the collar of her heavy coat. She really needed to stop talking out loud to herself. Someone was going to get the wrong idea and call the men with the white coats to come get her.

  Claire darted up the porch steps only to jerk to a stop on the second step and hop back to the ground. She’d bypassed a muddy boot print on the first step.

  Weird.

  No packages indicating the print could belong to a delivery guy. She noticed the second footprint on the next step. Then more right up to her door.

  With a gloved hand, Claire twisted the knob and found it locked. Okay, so someone had walked up on her porch and then left.

  “Hi, Claire.”