On a Knife's Edge (5 page)

“What I mean, hon, is that we can’t dismiss the possibility
of Callan seeking retribution for his incarceration.”

“Retribution? Against whom?”

“Well, me for one. His was the last case I prosecuted
before…” His voice drifted off.

She reached over and grasped his hand. Graham hated any
reference to his dreadful accident. He flexed his fingers around hers with a
small smile then released his grip. She settled for resting her palm on his
forearm. “Do you really think he’ll come after you?”

“It makes sense to me.”

“And to me,” Adam concurred. He looked at Dell. “What about
assigning Graham police protection?”

“That won’t be necessary,” her husband said. “I’ll be in
Vegas until next week. Hopefully you’ll get that stay and Callan’s taste of
freedom will be brief. If not, we can discuss a security detail once I’m home.
However, in my absence, Shasta and Wyatt will need one.”

She jolted upright. “What? Me?”

Adam nodded. “Good point.”

“I agree,” Dell said. “I’ll check the roster and assign
someone to watch her.”

“But why do
I
need protection?” Her voice sounded
shrill in her ears.

Dell stared at her. “Because you’re my sister.”

“And my wife,” Graham added.

Shasta looked from one to the other. “So?”

Graham tilted his head. “So, Dell and I are the two people
most responsible for Callan going to prison. That potentially puts you in a
dangerous situation.”

“But…” Shasta frantically searched for a counter argument.
“Having a deputy follow me around all the time would cost a lot of money.” She
glanced at Dell. “Wouldn’t it?”

His expression hardened. “I don’t care about the cost.
You’re my sister. And I don’t want that bastard within five miles of you, or
Wyatt.”

“I may be able to help defer the expense,” Adam offered.
“I’ll make a few calls when I get back to my office.”

“And she should probably be at the stationhouse when not at
home,” Graham said. “Don’t you think, Dell?”

“Yes I do.” Dell scribbled on a notepad. “And there’ll be no
more jogging in the desert alone. And if she’s not here, and if Wyatt’s not in
school, the two of them will be in lockdown at the house.”

Dread welled in Shasta’s chest, cutting off her voice. She
couldn’t go into lockdown. Be a prisoner in her own home. Unable to go out. Go
running…

 “Excellent,” Graham said. “I know I’ll rest easier knowing
my family is safe.”

Dell nodded. “It’s settled then. I’ll have—”

She slapped her hands on the chair armrests, and three sets
of male eyes landed on her. “You’re all being ridiculous. It’s ludicrous to
think I’m in danger.”

Dell squinted. “What makes you so certain?”

“Because—” She stopped herself before saying
Lynch would
never hurt me
.

If that come out of her mouth, it would lead to a bevy of
questions. Questions she did not want to answer.

She’d hadn’t breathed a word to another living soul about
her connection to Lynch, and she wasn’t going to now. Biting her lip, she
pressed her fingers to her temples. She pulled in a slow breath. “When would
this all have to start.”

“Immediately.” Dell went back to scrawling on his pad.

“But I have a spa date with Melissa in Reno this afternoon.”

“Cancel it.” Dell didn’t even bother looking up.

Her jaw dropped. “I will not cancel. We’ve waited over three
months for an opening.”

Dell nailed her with a hard look. “Again, I don’t care.
You’re not going anywhere without a police escort. Period.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Lynch is on the other side of the
state. Even if he drives a hundred miles an hour, he won’t get here until late
this afternoon. There’s absolutely no reason for me to cancel my plans.”

Graham took her hand. “Please do this. For me.”

She couldn’t say no to the stark plea in his eyes. Her
shoulders drooped. “Fine. I’ll cancel.”

Dell threw his hands in the air. “Hallelujah.”

She rounded on her brother. “But the only one
assigned
to me and Wyatt will be you.”

“Why?”

She gave him her most wicked smile. “Because I intend to
make your life miserable for your overprotective, Neanderthal attitude. I’m not
helpless, you know. I can take care of myself.”

Graham kissed the back of her hand and smiled. “We know,
honey. Believe me. But that doesn’t mean we don’t worry about you.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Apology accepted. Now
if you’ll excuse me.” She stood.

Her brother sat taller. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home, to cancel my spa date and take a shower. Unless you
want me ripening up the air in your stationhouse.”

Dell reached for his phone. “Fine. I can’t go with you, but
Todd can.”

Todd? Ugh.
She crossed her arms. “No.”

Her brother’s eyes ballooned. “
No?
You just agreed
this was necessary.”

“I also just made the point that Lynch isn’t within five
hundred miles of Stardust. I think I’ll be safe showering in my own home.”

“But Callan isn’t your only threat. The Streeters could come
after you.”

“They haven’t in the last seven years. Why would they
suddenly target me now?”

“Because Lynch is being released,” Graham offered.
“Sometimes it takes a catalyst like that to motivate them for revenge.

Shasta looked at Adam, who’d been abnormally quiet. His
intent stare knotted her stomach. She toughened her posture. “Does anyone else
know Lynch is getting out?”

He shrugged. The small movement reminded her of a
rattlesnake shedding its skin. “Doubtful. I only received a call once Callan’s
lawyer knew I couldn’t block his release. I doubt she’d risk telling a lot of
people for fear the news would leak and they’d lose the element of surprise.” 

“In other words I should be fine.”

“
Should be
doesn’t mean you
will be
,” Dell
rebutted.

She shook her head. “You’re not winning this argument, big
brother. I’m going home—alone. But I’ll be back in time for you…” She pointed
her finger at Dell. “…to buy me lunch. A number four from Hopkins Deli, no mayo
and extra pickles.” She placed her hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Call me when you
get to Vegas?”

“Of course.” He maneuvered his chair toward the door. “I’ll
walk you out. My taxi should arrive any time now.”

Nodding, she looked over her shoulder at Dell. “Guess I’ll
see you later.”

“Count on that, sis,” he grumbled.

She glanced at the district attorney, barely suppressing
another shudder. “Adam.”

“Shasta.”

The way he said her name scurried more icky goose bumps over
her skin. She wasted no time escaping the stationhouse with Graham.

The handicap van was indeed waiting for her husband and once
he was safely aboard, she waved and watched as it exited the parking lot. Once
in the sanctuary of her car, she called Melissa and begged off the planned
activity. Her friend sounded disappointed, but accepting. Shasta then inhaled a
breath and texted
411
to Mark “Hez” Hernandez.

Hez had been Lynch’s best friend since they were kids, and
once Lynch went to prison, he became her confidant. But she hadn’t had any
contact with Hez in over two years. Her cheeks heated at the memory of what
drunken mess she’d been that last time…

She shoved the image away and stared at the blank screen.
What if Hez had a different number? How would she get in touch with him? She
only had a small window of time before needing to be back at the station…

The answer came when her phone buzzed with the message
on
my way
.

She tossed her phone in the passenger seat and turned the
ignition key, wondering what Hez thought of her contacting him after all this
time. Well, that couldn’t be helped.

He needed to know Lynch was getting out of prison before it
was too late.

Chapter Four

SHIT.
SHIT. SHIT.

I can’t believe my phone beeped with the message she’s just
sent the 411 text…the code for her Streeter buddy, Hez, to meet her. I knew I
should’ve killed that bastard when I had the chance. If he lays one finger on
her, I’ll…

It’s been over two years since Shasta met with Hez. Two
years of me being stupidly complacent. No doubt the news of Callan’s release
prompted this rendezvous—that reality only fuels the anger pounding through my
blood.

I know marriage to the “invalid” has been hard. She’s so
young and beautiful, she deserves a husband who can satisfy
all
her
needs. But soon enough when she’ll get everything that coming to her. She’ll
get
me
. She just needs to stay patient—and celibate. I’ll be supremely
disappointed if she doesn’t.

I slammed my sedan to a stop, the sound of gravel spewing
beneath the tires, but I don’t worry about attracting attention because no
one’s around. I get out and head for the house. I’m so furious, the door key
drops from my hand.

Once inside, I march past the sheet-covered furniture and
into the back bedroom with the blackout curtains, ignoring the vile memories
this place always elicits. I flip on the overhead light then sit at the lone
desk and chair. I turn on my laptop and wait impatiently for it to boot up.

Sudden panic grips my chest. How long has it been since I
last checked the equipment? The nanny cam in Callan’s trailer is most likely
still operational, but what about the camouflaged hotspot boosters on the light
poles between here and there? What if the wind storm last month jarred the
wiring? It’d only take one misalignment to send the signal in the wrong fucking
direction.

Holding my breath, I stare at the blackened screen. Then,
slowly, the interior of the shitty Winnebago comes into focus. Relief has me
almost creaming my pants. Now I just have to wait to see what happens next.

I don’t have to wait long as the door bangs open. Shasta
walks in, with Hez right behind her.

He pivots her around and into a hug. My head practically
explodes.

“It’s been a long time, beautiful,” he says. “To what do I
owe the pleasure?”

Shasta moves away and my blood pressure lessens. “We need to
talk.”

Hez leans against the kitchen counter. “Okay. What’s up?”

She crosses her arms. “Lynch is being released from prison
this afternoon.”

Jolting upright, Hez’s mouth drops open. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

“How did that happen?”

“Some fancy lawyer took on his case and got him a new
trial.” She glances away, her lips pressed together. “Thought you should know.”

Hez runs a hand down his face. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Could you please collect my things?” she asks, her voice so
quiet I almost don’t hear it. “I’d do it myself, but I hafta get back to the
stationhouse. I’m under some stupid lockdown.”

Hez’s eyebrows pop up. “How come?”

“Everyone thinks I’m in danger because Lynch is getting
out.” She shakes her head. “So will you get my stuff?”

“Of course. Text me a list and I’ll put it all in a box.
Where should I leave it?”

“Um…out behind the garage at the house. There’s a bunch of
other junk there so it shouldn’t be noticeable if I don’t get to it right
away.”

“I’ll take care of it today. The box’ll be there in the
morning.”

She shifted. “Thanks.”

 Hez moves from the counter. “You’re welcome.” He pulls her
into a loose hug and I grip the desk edges, the tension building behind my eyes
again. He releases her and kisses her cheek. “Promise you’ll take care of
yourself. Okay, beautiful?”

She smiles. “I promise.”

I don’t relax my posture until the trailer stands empty.
Then slowly…ever so slowly…my body unwinds. I take a breath and unclench my
grasp on the desk, but I’m far from calm.

If only Dell had died seven years ago when I shot him,
Callan wouldn’t be getting out of prison. No…he’d be on death row, or
better—dead. It’s more than what he deserves. What either of them deserve.

God…I hate both of them, but especially Callan. I didn’t
realize the extent of his corruptive effect on Shasta until it was too late.
Until he’d stolen her from me. Stolen my son—because Wyatt should have been
mine. But he’s not, and it’s because of that fucker.

Now I have to exterminate Callan and her brother all over
again—along with the kid…
Callan’s
kid.

I know eliminating Wyatt will hurt Shasta, but it can’t be
helped. All vestiges of that bastard’s influence on her life must be
eradicated. I’ll make it up to her, though. I’ll give her more sons.

Better sons.

Long ago, I knew Shasta belonged to me. And no one would
keep me from having her—not even her father. That hunting accident ten years
ago? Daddy dearest never should have claimed I wasn’t good enough for his
daughter. Imagine that…
me
not good enough.

When Shasta should have turned to me for comfort and
support, she turned to her brother—and Callan. I needed to get rid of them. Too
bad they didn’t have the decency to
die
.

I stare into space. I've allowed myself to become distracted
these past few years, building then maintaining my business relationship with
Fuentes. I took my eye off of what’s truly important…
her
. Maybe it’s
time to retire. To take her away. Far away.

The more I contemplate this, the more excited I become, and
my dick responds in kind. I undo my pants, slip my hand inside and fist my
cock.

Yes…

Since Callan’s out, the timing could work to my benefit. I
made him my patsy before, I can make him one again.

My erection hardens. God…sometimes I’m too brilliant for my
own good. I’ll tie up the loose ends here in Stardust while ensuring Callan
takes the fall. Only this time around, he
will
get the death penalty. As
will Shasta’s brother—and poor, little Wyatt.

The thought of justice finally being served on Callan fills
me with schoolboy glee and I pump my hand faster. I close my eyes and picture
Shasta kneeling before me, naked. I finger the tip of my dick, imagining I’m
tracing it along her lips before I feed it inside her mouth. All the way. Until
I touch the back of her throat. Her eyes water as she gazes up at me, adoration
written on her face…

Very soon she’ll be mine and mine alone.

Once and for all.