Sweet Justice (4 page)

Minneapolis, Minnesota

I haven’t had sex in over four years
.

Of all the things Honor believed one should be thinking when a wickedly sharp knife was being held to your throat, this wasn’t one of them. Nevertheless, the thought was there and, sadly, all too true. Today was her thirtieth birthday and her life had become one long workday after another. She was in a serious rut. Though that overregimented, mundane life was about to end if she didn’t do something about the idiot holding her from behind and threatening to “spill her guts,” as he had shouted in her ear.

“Calm down, Edwin,” Honor said calmly. “There’s no reason to get more years added to your prison sentence by killing an FBI agent.”

“And think of the mess.”

If Honor hadn’t been standing on her tiptoes to avoid being cut, she would have rolled her eyes. When Miller Moss—or Mossy to his friends—started trying to negotiate with a criminal, there was no telling the outcome. The man had a mind for statistics and facts, but when it came to his negotiating skills, he was all thumbs.

“I didn’t kill that girl!” Edwin Simpson shouted.

Honor winced. If she lived through this, she wondered if she could get disability for a hearing impairment. Her right ear rang, making her position even more painful.

“If you didn’t kill Shelly Amos, then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

“Yeah, like anyone’s going to believe me. I made a mistake years ago and paid my dues in prison. Does anyone give me credit for that? No. I can hardly find a job and every time some dumb bitch gets killed around here, you assholes come looking for me.”

Honor had almost been feeling a hint of sympathy, until the “dumb bitch” part. Shelly Amos had been a bright, beautiful twelve-year-old child, abducted while walking home from the library. Her bloody clothes had been found, but so far, no body. To have Edwin Simpson, a sleazy pervert down to his black socks and white sneakers, make a comment like that was Honor’s tipping point.

With the sincere hope that he really didn’t intend to kill her, Honor relaxed, dropping her body slightly. Simpson relaxed, too, but the knife caught her when her feet went flat on the floor. Stung like hell, but she ignored it.

Jerking her head back as hard as she could, she slammed it into Simpson’s throat. As he gurgled his pain, his hands loosened and then fell away. Honor followed with a heel kick to his shin, then whirled and slammed her forearm across his face. Blood spurted from his mouth and nose. Grabbing his right hand, she twisted until she heard a satisfying pop and Simpson bellowed like an angry hyena. The knife thudded to the floor and then Simpson fell forward. Seconds later, Honor had him handcuffed.

As she got to her feet, she was surprised by the blurry sway of the room.
What the hell?

“Honor! Sit down!”

Her eyes blinked up at Mossy. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding. That’s why.”

Her fingers touched her neck. Damn. The cut was worse than she’d thought. She figured she could at least make it to the chair a few steps away, but her legs had a different idea. With the suddenness of a falling rock, Honor keeled over. She heard Mossy let out a curse. As the thought flitted through her mind that she would rather he catch her than curse, she fell face-first onto the floor and the lights went out.

*  *  *

Blinking awake, she looked up into her father’s face and smiled. When he didn’t smile back, she reached up to touch him and found only air.

“Thank God you’re awake.” Her brother’s hoarse voice startled her. What was he doing here?

“Nick?”

“Yeah.” He came to stand over her and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“You almost bled out.”

“I did?” She didn’t remember anything after she hit the floor.

“Another couple of centimeters and it would have been all over.”

She sighed. And on her birthday, no less. Good to know that she was keeping up the tradition of sucky birthdays.

Already knowing, she asked anyway, “Mom here?”

“Yeah, she’s in the hallway, talking to Aunt Jenny. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

Aunt Jenny was loud. Get her on the phone and everyone within twenty feet could hear her.

“Is Mom pretty upset?”

“What do you think?”

She grimaced. Beverly Stone was military, through and through. A former army nurse, she’d left the service and become the wife of an air force pilot and, later, the mother of a marine. She’d stoically seen her husband and son deployed again and again without complaint. She was so very cool about it all. However, when faced with a specific trauma, she had a tendency to hover and worry. Honor had a feeling she was about to get a major dose of mama-henning.

“What’d the doctor say?”

“Two more days after you regain consciousness before you can leave the hospital. Two weeks before you’re able to work.”

And, no doubt, her mother would want her to come stay with her. Suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. She had some decisions to make. Being fussed over while she did that would please her mom and it would give her a chance to think seriously about several issues she’d been avoiding.

Nick’s eyes, so similar to hers, watched her keenly. “Want me to detour her?”

“No, I think I’ll go home with her. Think through some things.”

“About time, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t been the same since that bastard.”

Anytime her brother referred to Seth, it was only as “that bastard.” If he and Seth ever met each other, Nick would probably—Hell, what was she thinking? They would never meet. Seth was never coming back to her. He’d made that more than clear.
Crap, Stone, what does it take to get it through your head? The man didn’t want you. It’s been five years. Get over it already
.

Honor shook her head. “That’s not exactly what I plan to be thinking of.”

“Still considering a job change?”

She and her brother had no secrets. He knew all about Seth, had held her while she’d cried her eyes out and cursed him fiercely. And she’d been there for Nick when his best friend was killed in Afghanistan and when Marla, his wife, miscarried. Barely one year apart in age, she and her brother had been best friends almost since her birth.

“I just don’t have the excitement and fire for the job like I used to.”

“You still thinking about that rescue organization?”

“Every time I talk to Noah McCall, he asks if I’m ready to come on board. I think I might be ready.”

“What are you going to tell Mom?”

With generations of military behind her, Honor was one of the few members of her family who’d bucked tradition and hadn’t joined the armed forces. It had been a personal, heartfelt decision to join the FBI. One that she had made when she was thirteen years old. Her family had humored her when she was a kid, thinking she’d change her mind. When she was twenty-two and applied to the FBI, it hadn’t been as amusing to them.

Though her parents had never tried to discourage her from joining the FBI, she knew they’d never given up the hope that she’d follow family tradition. Even though her dad had been gone for almost five years now and Honor’s career choice was no longer under discussion, she knew her mom still harbored some hope.

“I’ll explain what LCR does. She’s got to support that.”

Nick shrugged, his expression doubtful. “Anyway, your friend Moss wants to speak to you. Said he had some information you’d want to know.”

Had Shelly been found? Was she perhaps not dead after all? Please, God, let her be alive. Honor was so very tired of being too late to save them. She tried to sit up; agony zoomed through her.

“Hold on, Sprite. Why the hell do you have to be so gung ho with everything?”

If she hadn’t been hurting so much, that comment would have earned Nick a snort and an eye roll. They’d been trained from birth to go all out and be gung ho. She’d seen her brother overdo it on multiple occasions.

Lying back against the pillow, she allowed Nick to press the button on the hospital bed to raise her head.

“I’d better let the doctor know you’re awake.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“On and off about ten hours.”

Funny, she didn’t remember the conscious moments, although she vaguely remembered seeing her dad’s face. When she was at her most vulnerable, she often imagined she saw him. Wishful thinking? Absolutely, but still it gave her comfort.

“Get the doctor in here before you tell Mom I’m awake or she’ll come along with him, giving him instructions and drilling him.”

Nick grimaced as he headed out the door. “Too late; she’s already done that.”

Smiling at the image of her tiny mother shooting questions and advice at her doctor, Honor leaned back against her pillow. After her release, she would go stay with her mom, but it wouldn’t take two weeks to make the decision she’d been tinkering with for several years. It was time for a change.

After the horrible experience with Seth, she’d moved on and taken the job offer she’d delayed accepting. And she had continued to breathe, think, and go through the motions. Yes, she’d done some good work, saved lives and put several people behind bars, but she had lost the fire she’d once had. Had she been living in limbo, thinking Seth would come back, beg for forgiveness and they’d live happily ever after? She hoped not, but she greatly feared that had been in the back of her mind.

Well, no more. This incident had been a wake-up call. It was time to let go of the past. Time for Honor Stone to get on with the rest of her life and forget that Seth Cavanaugh ever existed.

four

Three months later

His feet propped on the railing of his balcony, Seth looked out over the small resort town that was now his home. Compared to Key West, San Saria had little to offer other than the beach, a couple of decent restaurants, a nice hotel, and some ratty, storm-damaged beach houses. He’d lucked into the nicest of the ratty houses. Making all the repairs himself was taking forever. Not only was he a perfectionist, but he wasn’t quite sure what he would do once he finished. At some point, he figured, there’d be a day when he wouldn’t have a reason to get out of bed. That thought didn’t sit well with him.

Living in paradise had its advantages, but not having a purpose, a reason to get up in the mornings was going to suck. So, to delay the inevitable as long as possible, he’d make sure every shingle fit just right, every nail was hammered completely straight, and, what the hell, if he didn’t like one color of paint, he could always repaint.

Seth took another swig of his icy cold Pepsi. This was what he’d told himself he wanted. And for a while, it had worked. After years of being immersed in a world of filth, slime, and murderers, a thick layer of grime had coated his soul. The fresh salty air and sunshine were just the cleansers he’d needed.

Once Clemmons went on trial, Seth disappeared. The man might’ve suspected that he was the one who’d betrayed him, but he couldn’t prove anything. By the time it was all over, they’d had more than enough to convict the bastard and Seth had never needed to testify. For all Clemmons had known, Seth had just jumped ship to avoid being arrested, too.

Handling it like that had worked out well, with one major exception. He had finally been able to tell his family the truth, but they had been unable to share the information with anyone else. Full disclosure was too dangerous. So, to the public at large, Seth had still been a well-known restaurateur who’d dabbled in sleaze on the side. His reputation had never hurt his restaurants, though … probably even helped, especially when he put them up for sale.

At first, having his family know the truth changed nothing. Then, slowly, one by one, forgiveness and understanding had dribbled in. His mother, his staunchest defender even when it didn’t appear he deserved her loyalty, had been the first to offer her support. To hear his mother tell it, Seth was a hero. Though he knew he was anything but, the deep ache he’d felt for so long had been eased by her defense.

His brothers and sisters had been a different matter. Never had he seen such division in his family. To know he’d caused that dissension only made the guilt go deeper. The last family dinner he’d attended, it’d been like a dam had been unplugged. Shouting, accusations, and anger had spewed. And while it had only been his brother Joel and sister Sandra who’d been the mouthpieces of anger, he’d hated the discourse he’d brought them.

Seth had walked out of his mother’s house, figuring it’d be better if he never returned. He shouldn’t have tried to come back into the fold and act as if nothing had happened. The easy camaraderie he’d once had with his family was gone. Leaving town seemed a hell of a lot better for everyone than sticking around and pretending things could go back to the way they were.

Dropping his feet to the floor, Seth stood and stepped back into his bedroom. To hell with regrets. He had a hankering for clams casino, and the freshest clams always came in around this time. When he got back, maybe he’d go for an afternoon run on the beach. Then he’d come home and spend a couple of hours in the kitchen. His new stove had arrived last week and he’d barely scrambled an egg on it. Time to christen it with something worth his time.

He was almost to the door when the cellphone on his nightstand vibrated. He was tempted to ignore it since it was probably somebody wanting to rent his boat tomorrow. And since tomorrow he’d be using the boat, why pick up?

Shrugging, Seth stalked over and grabbed it anyway. “What?” he barked.

“Seth?”

Not immediately recognizing the voice, Seth said cautiously, “Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Joel … you know, your brother.”

His legs suddenly weak, Seth dropped down onto the bed. Someone in his family had died. That was the only explanation; the only reason Joel would call would be to share bad news. Seth closed his eyes. Before he’d heard who or what, grief and regret already gripped his heart. He forced words from his frozen mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Kelli.” The thick hoarseness in his brother’s voice was unmistakable.

“What’s happened?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing how? Where? When?”

“From her college. She hasn’t been seen in over a week.”

And no one had called him? What the hell? Had they thought he wouldn’t care? Hell, she was his niece! His mind already working in cop mode again, Seth surged to his feet. Crossing the room, he opened a dresser drawer and began to pull out clothes. “What are the police saying?”

“They don’t know anything. The FBI finally got involved, but they can’t find her.”

“I’ll be on the first plane tomorrow. I’ll—”

“Wait! I …” Joel swallowed audibly. “I know you have connections.”

“With the Houston PD? Yeah, I still have a lot of contacts there.”

“No, you know people who know people. Slimeballs who can—”

Seth froze. “Shit, Joel, I don’t know people who abducted kids.”

“You can find out stuff ordinary people can’t. You owe us, Seth. This family has never been the same. With Kelli being taken, it’s killing us.”

Seth swallowed a disgusted sigh and resumed grabbing his clothes. There was no point in trying to explain to his brother that his old contacts with his once sleazy undercover life couldn’t help Kelli. Joel’s opinion didn’t matter … Seth’s first and only priority now was to find his niece. “Give me all the info you have.”

As his brother related details, places, and dates, his mind began functioning at full throttle again—something it hadn’t done in a very long time. Pulling a duffel bag from his closet, he stuffed in clothes and shoes. When Joel finally paused for a breath, Seth said grimly, “I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”