The Echo of Violence (25 page)
Kinkaid shut his eyes and lowered his head. She’d never seen him so lost. All she wanted to do was hold him, but out of respect for his grief and the family he had lost, she kept her distance.
“Some roads you’ve got to go down alone,” he admitted. “And I’m not ready to let go. I can’t.” He looked her in the eye. “Not even for you.”
The truth had finally surfaced. And she knew it would take time for her to accept it. She could only imagine the horror of what he’d been through. Living with the reality of such an atrocity would be hell on earth. And even if he wanted to remember them alive as he listened to their recorded voices, he’d been the first one to find their bodies. That cruel memory would haunt him—a merciless torment he didn’t deserve.
“I’m not asking for you to let go. Only you will know when it’s time to do that,” she said. “I just wish you could have trusted me with the truth.”
Alexa knew that he trusted her with his life, but beyond that, real intimacy was a precious gift that had to be earned. She wasn’t sure she deserved that kind of trust from him, but that didn’t stop her from wanting it—or needing it.
She had to accept that Kinkaid had chosen a life detached from others, and nothing she said now would convince him to change how he felt about her. And only time and her taking stock in her life would prevent the same isolation from eventually happening to her. It was a slippery slope and an easy trap to fall into in their line of work. She picked up her gear and carried it to the door before she turned one last time.
“Kate wants to see you,” she told him. “Anything you want me to tell her?”
“No, nothing.”
“You’re not going to see her again, are you?”
“She doesn’t need me in her life. Hell, she’s better off without me. She always was. I’ll still support her school, but she won’t know the money is coming from me.”
“What about you? Walking away from a friend like Kate…”
And me
, she wanted to say. “…that’s not good. It’s hard enough to do what we do. Doing it alone only makes things…worse. You know that, don’t you?”
“I never wanted to go it alone, Alexa, but shit happens. Getting too close to me isn’t good for your health, or haven’t you been paying attention?” He shook his head and grimaced, unable to meet her gaze. “This shouldn’t have happened to Kate.
None
of it should have happened. Why did they…why did anyone have to die?”
Alexa wasn’t sure if he was talking about Kate and the hostages anymore.
“I don’t know, Jackson.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “But Sayed was responsible for what happened to Kate and the others, not you. It’s why we stopped him…together. How long will you beat yourself up over something you had no control over?”
“For as long as it takes.”
She wished what he said wasn’t true, but she knew different.
“Good-bye, Jackson. I hope you find…” She struggled for words.
Find what?
Kinkaid was a guy who
had
found happiness once—
and lost it
. “I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for.”
After a long moment, Kinkaid nodded, and said, “You too, Alexa.”
She walked out the door, fighting a lump in her throat, a knot of emotion that she would deal with in the days and months to come. A part of her would always love Jackson Kinkaid. She knew that now. Yet there would be a part of him that she could never have—and that wasn’t good enough.
She needed more than he had to give. And if Kinkaid were any example, time wouldn’t heal
all
wounds.
And now
a special early look at the
next title in the Sweet Justice series
Coming 2011
From Jordan Dane and Avon Books
Outside Ciudad Juárez, Mexico
Dusk
The footsteps of Ramon Guerrero echoed as he stepped closer to the hostage. A dark silhouette of a man was backlit from the only barred window in the cell. His prisoner had been stripped of his clothes. Completely naked, he sagged by the weight of his own body as he hung from a metal bar. Ropes cut into his wrists and blood drained down his arms. Dark bruises mottled his ribcage, an aftermath of the beatings he had survived.
“Why are you here in my country?”
The man did not hesitate. “I’m here to kill a man.”
Guerrero burst into laughter at the man’s gall. “And how is that going for you?” Without waiting for an answer, he shook his head and said, “We know who you are.”
“You don’t know shit. Go to hell.”
In the stifling heat, Guerrero punched the hostage in the gut.
Once. Twice.
The prisoner clinched his stomach muscles and took the blows without uttering a sound.
“We shall s-see…” he panted, “…h-how long your arrogance lasts.”
His cartel boss had demanded to see the prisoner. It was the only reason Garrett Wheeler was still alive…
for now.
New York City
Before dawn
Dressed in gray slacks and black cashmere sweater, Alexa Marlowe sipped coffee as she looked out her apartment window, located on the third floor of a brownstone on the Upper East Side off Lexington Avenue. For the last week, she’d been restless and sleep hadn’t come easy. In her line of work that was a hazard of the trade, but she had another reason to worry. And after getting a call from Tanya Spencer yesterday and arranging for an early-morning meeting at her place, she wondered if the Sentinel’s analyst had been losing sleep for the same reason.
When she heard the soft knock on her door, she rushed to answer it.
“Good morning, Tanya.” She forced a smile. “Please…come in.”
“Thanks for accommodating my crazy schedule.”
Even before dawn, the woman was impeccably dressed in a navy Burberry blazer and a pencil skirt. Her black skin looked radiant with only a hint of the flawless make-up she wore. And her southern drawl could melt butter. That voice had calmed Alexa on many covert ops missions when she had needed analytical support…and a friend.
“Sorry to get you up this early, but I thought we should talk somewhere away from headquarters. And your place was on my way to work.”
“No trouble. You’ve given me a jump on my day. Can I get you coffee?” Alexa asked.
“Yes, please.”
Alexa had already made a pot. She served Tanya a cup and they sat in her living room.
Being a covert agent, Alexa viewed the world differently than most people. She looked for ulterior motives and conspiracies under every rock. It was how her brain worked out of necessity. Her survival sometimes depended on it. And since Tanya Spencer had a similar background—having worked many years with the privately funded Sentinels and as Garrett Wheeler’s right hand for the last decade—Alexa figured the woman’s cryptic words meant she was only playing it safe.
“So tell me what’s on your mind, Tanya.”
“I’m not sure if I should be saying this, but…” the woman began. “…I haven’t heard from Garrett in almost two weeks. And that’s not like him.” When Alexa didn’t act surprised, Tanya said, “What’s going on? Do you know anything about this?”
“No, I don’t, but I’ve noticed the same thing.” She heaved a sigh. “I thought it was me. After I broke it off with him, our relationship changed. It had to, but I haven’t heard from him either. And that’s got me losing sleep.”
Tanya was one of the few people within the Sentinels who knew about her personal relationship with her boss, Garrett. She considered the woman a trusted friend.
“Isn’t anyone else concerned about this?” Alexa narrowed her eyes. “He’s head of our organization. What’s he been working on?”
Tanya had been Garrett’s senior analyst and advisor
for the last ten years. She usually kept close tabs on him. And he trusted her with every aspect of what he did. They were a team.
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” The woman shook her head and put down her coffee. “And it’s got me worried sick. He’s never done this, Alexa. He’d always involved me with anything he touched. That’s why I wanted to talk here, at your place. Something’s been going on and I’ve been cut out of the loop. The people Garrett answers to have to know something, but they’re not clueing me in.”
“So who’s in charge with Garrett gone? I’ve never seen him work with anyone in particular who could step into his shoes.”
“Yeah, I haven’t either, not with the secrecy above his level. But this can’t go on forever. If Garrett is AWOL, someone’s got to assume his duties.”
“You have any idea who?”
Tanya only shook her head. She was normally unflappable, but seeing the grimace on her face told Alexa all she needed to know about her concern.
“We’d have to be careful looking into this. We could blow his op and put him in danger if we barge in without knowing what’s going on.”
“Does that mean you and Jessie will be looking into this?” Tanya asked. “I’ve tried tracking Garrett, but I’ve got nothing. Maybe if we trace other movements within the organization, we’ll have better luck.”
Tanya was right. If Garrett was involved in a covert op that excluded his top analyst and his most trusted agent, it had to be really big. But that also meant Sentinels’ resources would be dedicated to the operation.
And if Alexa could handpick someone to dig through the veiled secrecy of the Sentinels—an organization of international vigilantes who operated off the global grid to dole out their brand of justice—she would have Tanya Spencer at the top of her list. The woman had connections in and out of the organization. And with her internal systems knowledge, she could slip through virtual backdoors without anyone noticing.
“I’m meeting Jessie later for breakfast. She’s pretty new to how things work within the Sentinels, but we’ll see.” Alexa sat back on her sofa and crossed her arms. “If we do this, we’ll need your help.”
Tanya nodded and said, “Count on it.”
Alexa knew that what she was planning to do—using the organization’s resources to trace a covert operation involving her boss and former lover—would not be sensible. It could turn into a career ender at best. Or a death sentence at worst. And to involve her new partner, Jessie, would not be wise either—especially for Jessie’s sake.
Relying on gut instinct, she’d have to make that call when she talked to Jessie. If she read anything in her that raised a red flag, she’d let it slide and go it alone with Tanya. But one way or another, she’d take the risk for Garrett—because he would do the same for her.
New York’s Lower East Side
The ringing of a phone early in the morning was never a good thing.
Jessie Beckett pulled the bedcovers off her face and fumbled for the light switch. And after she flicked on her lamp, she squinted at the alarm clock on her nightstand.
“Six twenty? Who the hell—?” She winced, grabbed the cell phone off her nightstand, and flipped it open without looking at the caller’s number. “You better have a damned good reason for breaking into my beauty sleep.”
The sun had barely made an appearance. And that meant she didn’t give a rip about winning Miss Congeniality.
“Jessie? It’s Sam.”
She recognized the voice of her best friend. Samantha Cooper was a vice cop in Chicago. And she had better sense than to call her at this hour if it wasn’t important.
“Sam? What’s up? Is Seth alright?”
Her worry barometer worked double-time when it came to Seth Harper, a guy who had nestled into her heart and made a home. The whacked-out computer genius had a habit of getting into trouble, and not only because he knew her. The boy had a serious way of attracting it himself. And with his recent recruitment into the Sentinels for his mad skills with a keyboard—the same organization Jessie worked for—Seth had more than doubled his gift for luring trouble.
“No, Seth is fine, I guess. I haven’t seen him lately, but I was calling you about…something else.”
“Oh?”
Her friend cleared her throat and stalled, which wasn’t like her.
“Spit it out, Sammie.”
“Chicago PD received a bulletin from a sheriff in La Pointe, Wisconsin.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“It’s at the northern tip of Wisconsin. On Madeline Island in Lake Superior, to be exact. I looked it up on a map.”
“Thanks for the geography lesson.” Jessie ran a hand through her dark hair. “Explain why I should care about this?”
Sam cleared her throat again. Definitely stalling.
“You should care because the sheriff was working an old cold case. A pretty gruesome murder that happened over twenty years ago.”
“Twenty years. We were both kids back then. Why are you calling me about this, Sam?”
Jessie didn’t like where this was headed. Twenty years ago she was a child in the hands of notorious pedophile Danny Ray Millstone. At least, that was what she believed. She was too young to really know the truth about how she ended up with him—or maybe she’d blocked it out. And insult to injury, after she was rescued by Detective Max Jenkins of the Chicago PD, no one from her family stepped up to claim her. Not even the national media coverage afterward shed light on what had happened to her. That aspect of her past had remained a black hole. And she’d given up trying to find where she’d come from.
Looking into the details of her childhood nightmare had always been too painful.
“Yeah, well, back then DNA wasn’t used to solve
crimes like it is now,” Sam said. “But an old case caught the eye of this sheriff. And he sent in evidence he had stored in archives to the state crime lab. When the lab ran its findings against the CODIS and NCIC databases, the sheriff got two DNA hits—and his first new lead in over twenty years.”
Jessie’s mind worked quickly, thinking how a DNA test would link to her. The FBI maintained both the Combined DNA Index System and the National Crime Information Center. The first held DNA profiles in a database while the other was a repository for specific criminal records on known fugitives, missing persons, stolen property, and other details. Such database information was available to state and federal law enforcement types and was meant to share information across jurisdictions. Since she’d been a missing person as a child, her gut twisted with the implications of where Sam might be going with this.
“Got two hits…on what?”
“Since you were a missing kid, your DNA is on record, Jess. The Wisconsin crime lab got a hit on your DNA. It puts you at that crime scene over twenty years ago.”
“What?” Jessie grimaced. “I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t either. That’s why I called that sheriff. His name is Tobias Cook. I only asked questions and didn’t tell him anything. I wanted to talk to you first,” Sam told her. “Apparently the DNA hit on you was a dead-on match, but that’s not all.”
“Oh, great. The hits keep coming.”
“They found more DNA that suggests you were with
a family member. The second hit showed a 95% probability match to your DNA.”
“What does that mean?”
“You were too young to be alone. That second DNA sample came from a family member. Your
real
family, Jessie.” Sam let that thought settle before she landed a second shocker. “Besides the DNA, the sheriff has reason to believe…that you might have been with your mother.”
“My mother? How would he know that?”
“I tried getting that out of him, but he wouldn’t say.”
Hearing the word “mother” always flashed her back to a haunting memory that had been with her since she was a little girl. She recalled a sunny day with fall colors and a woman’s smiling face. She held those images close to her heart, of a woman playing with her in a park. She must have been someone very special because the memories always made her happy. Although she still couldn’t be sure the woman in her dreams was really her mother, Jessie needed to believe she once had someone who loved her like that.
She’d always fantasized that if she saw the woman again, she’d know it. Something in her eyes would give it away. At least, she’d always hoped that would be true.
“But…our DNA was found at a murder? This isn’t the family reunion I was hoping for.” She shook her head, grappling with the idea that her real mother might have had a connection to a murder. “Was my mother…a witness? Or was she the one murdered?”
She had a hard time saying the word “mother,” but had an even tougher time considering what dark scenarios had put her at that crime scene.
“The sheriff didn’t say. He only said he wants you to contact him.”
“Wait a minute.” She shut her eyes tight, feeling the start of a major headache. “Does he consider her a suspect?”
“Don’t know, but if your mother had been connected in some way to a murder, that would explain why she never came forward after you were rescued.”
What Sam said made sense. It had always pained her that no one had claimed her after her ordeal with Millstone, especially with all the national media coverage. Given the scant memories she had of a woman she believed to be her mother—a child’s wishful thinking—Jessie didn’t want to even think about the woman being involved in a killing. The life she led before Millstone had been an abyss until now, but maybe this sheriff could fill in the gaps. Jessie would have no way of knowing anything for sure unless she contacted him.
“So now what?” Sam asked. “People here at CPD know we have a connection. They’re letting me handle this bulletin request for information, but I can’t stall them.”
“No, and I don’t expect you to.” Jessie chewed the inside corner of her lip. “I’m flying to Chicago as soon as I can arrange a flight. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“You want me to pick you up?”
“No…I’ll get Harper to do that. But I’ll call you, okay?”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m driving to La Pointe. You can tell Sheriff Cook that I’ll see him face-to-face. I’ve got to know what evidence he has on that case. And why he’s looking for someone he thinks is my mother.”
“Look, Jess. I know this is hard for you, but if you need to talk, call me.”
