Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) (34 page)

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Authors: Misty Evans,Adrienne Giordano

BOOK: Stealing Justice (The Justice Team)
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On the sidewalk, he hailed a cab.

“Greystone,” a voice called from behind him.

Grey turned, expecting to see one of his former coworkers.

Ted Riggs, Executive Assistant Director of the Criminal and Cyber Crimes Branch, had his head out the entrance doors. He motioned Grey to follow him back inside.

This time when Grey entered the building, he bypassed security as a quiet Riggs led him to a conference room on the first floor.

A handful of men and women from various departments nodded to Grey as he entered. Riggs shut the door behind him. “Take a seat, Justice.”

Although he didn’t know them personally, Grey recognized most of the men and women in the room. The director of criminal investigations, the director of the cybercrimes division, the director of international affairs. Two others who dressed and smelled like CIA or NSA.

A million questions popped into his head. He ignored all but one. “What’s this about?”

The group exchanged a look. Riggs cleared his throat. “Did you accept the offer from Director Lockhart to return to your former position with ViCAP?”

“Not in the cards, I’m afraid.”

“Would you still like to work on criminal investigations?”

What was this?
“I’m not sure I follow.”

Riggs pointed at his cohorts. “The group gathered in this room is a special taskforce assigned the job of creating a Covert Action Pursuit team to handle some of our more…difficult operations.”

That answered a couple of questions. “Like the Khourey case?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m afraid after my talk with Director Lockhart, he won’t be in favor of me joining you.”

“Director Lockhart is not in charge of this taskforce.”

Grey’s shit detector went off. “Who is?”

Riggs gave him a friendly smile. “Our direction comes from on high.”

The Justice Department? The White House? “I’m listening.”

“We’d like you to head up this CAP team, and I assure you, you’ll be compensated quite well for it. The members will be hired by you and considered independent contractors. In other words, you decide what each case needs and hire the best crew for the job. You’ll have full discretion with job assignments and you’ll take full responsibility for their actions.”

A huge chunk of D.C. ran on deniability. He and Monroe ran on deniability. “So this is a black ops unit.”

Riggs gave him a patient smile. “CAP teams have been used throughout our joint histories.” He pointed at the two non-FBI group members—definitely spooks—and then at himself. “The last one was dissolved in 2010 due to some unforeseen circumstances with the leader. Because of a recent rise in the number of complex cases passing over our desks, we have deemed it necessary to employ a new team. One that can handle sensitive cybercrimes as well as criminal investigations like the Khourey case. And like the previous CAP teams, everything your unit does will be covert. No one outside this room will know who’s on your team or anything about the cases you’re working.”

Smoke and mirrors. That’s what they were offering. Get in, do the job by whatever means necessary, nail the bad guy and disappear. There would be no record of his job and no life preserver if he or his team screwed up. “When do you need my answer?”

Once more, the group exchanged that odd look. Riggs turned a hand palm up. “Twenty-four hours sound good?”

“And Director Lockhart knows nothing about this?”

“Neither does Agent Donaldson.”

That was a perk. “My past record holds no bearing on this position?”

“None whatsoever.”

Riggs was definitely singing Grey’s tune. “Can I have a look at the cases you’d like my team to tackle before I agree to the job?”

“Of course.”

Before Riggs could crook his fingers at the woman sitting two chairs down from Grey, she shoved a large file box sitting on the floor his way.

The box was full of manila folders, crime photos, and documents. His fingers itched to dig in. “Is this all one case?”

“Sixteen,” the woman said. “Sixteen cases, all highly sensitive, but of utmost priority to national security.”

Sixteen. Damn. It was going to take one hell of a team to solve that many in any reasonable time frame.

“Unfortunately that’s not all of them,” Riggs said.

More? “How many?”

“Enough to keep your CAP team in business for a long time.”

Grey drummed his fingers against his thighs for a moment, leaned over, and hefted the box as he stood. “Twenty-four hours.”

Riggs gave him that patient smile. “We look forward to hearing from you, Justice.”

 

Half an hour later, Grey sat in the abandoned apartment above the pizza joint where he’d first watched Syd though his scope. The scope was in his car, but he didn’t need it to see her sitting at her desk, typing like a mad woman on her computer.

Punching a button on his phone, he watched as she stopped typing and frantically searched her purse for her cell. Four rings later, she answered, her voice sexy and out of breath. “What happened?”

“They offered me my job back.”

She propped an elbow on her desk, laid her head in her hand. Her breathing slowed and the sincerity in her voice was forced. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

She knew as well as he did that an FBI agent and a woman who broke the law on a weekly basis did not make a successful relationship. “I turned them down.”

Her head came up. “You did?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“You can’t give up your career for me. You’ll end up resenting me and I…I won’t have that.”

“I’d give up everything for you. But you don’t have to worry about my job causing you problems. I was offered a different job. One more suited to my personality.”

“That sounds downright scary. Dare I ask what it might be?”

He laughed. Through the window, he saw her smile.

The marks on her neck were healing but she still had a lot of bruises. He owed her a fancy dinner, but knew she wouldn’t want to go anywhere public. “How about I pick you up in fifteen minutes and take you to my place? I’ll tell you all about it over a perfectly grilled steak and a cold beer.”

“Throw in Monroe and you’ve got a deal.”

“Monroe?”

“I have a lot of questions for him that he refused to answer when he was babysitting me. Don’t you think it’s time we officially met and you gave me clearance to hear all about your past together?”

Past time. Grey put a hand on the window’s glass and smiled down at her. “Look across the street. Upstairs.”

She did and her face lit up when she saw him. “Stalking me again, Fed Boy?”

“Get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“How about now?”

Grey closed his phone and went to get her.

 

Chapter Thirty

 

The following day, Syd pulled into her normal parking spot at Edwin Hospital and slid her beater car into park. After the events of the last two weeks, there was a definite comfort in running her hands over the battered steering wheel. The car was a wreck but, like her life, it was
her
wreck. It had been with her for years now and in many ways felt like home.

She turned to Grey sitting in the passenger seat. She should say something, yet the words were stuck. Trapped inside her swirling thoughts because what the hell was she doing? The routine had been the same for years. Just her. And her mother.

Until now.

Grey held his hands out. “What?”

“I don’t know.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“I guess I can’t believe you’re here. Well, not you specifically, but anyone. I’ve been the only one to ever visit my mother.”

What kind of reflection was that on either one of their lives? Sydney had hidden her mother away. No friends, no family, no one to bring birthday or Christmas gifts. Had that been fair?

God, she didn’t know. There wasn’t any family, and her intentions had been pure. All she’d wanted was to protect her mother’s privacy. Now, she wasn’t so sure she’d done the right thing. Her chest tightened and she sucked air through her nose.

No tears.

She closed her throbbing eyes and released her breath. When Grey’s hand landed on her shoulder, she leaned sideways and rested her head against his forearm.

“I haven’t been fair to her. I locked her away and didn’t tell anyone.”

“You’ve kept her safe. Every mother should have a daughter like you.”

“You’re just saying that so you can get laid.”

He grinned. “That did cross my mind.”

Syd sat up and shook her head. “For God’s sake, could you at least deny it?” But she was smiling, and considering the flogging she’d just inflicted upon herself, she was thankful for the moment of lighthearted fun. “Thank you. You always find a way to snap me out of it. Whatever
it
is.”

He held up the bakery box on his lap. “My cupcakes are crying for release. Got a special flavor today.”

The man wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot. He might be
her
perfect though.

“Grey, are you sure you want to do this? Some days it’s rough.”

“I want to meet your mother.”

Syd flipped the ignition off and opened the door. “When Number Seven rips you a new hole, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

“That’s your first mistake, Fed Boy.”

Good thing they were at a mental hospital because he must be out of his mind wanting to come here. Even if she did find it sweet that he’d insisted on meeting her mother. For some bizarre reason, this man wanted to share her dysfunction. All of it.

I’ve finally found him
. The one man she could be herself with and not be judged. Besides, he had his own demons that needed to be pinned.

Weren’t they a pair?

Two screwed up people somehow equaled one contented life. She could live with that kind of math.

A gust of cold wind kicked up and Syd held her jacket collar closed. The red marks on her neck were almost gone, and with each day, Nabil and his father slipped further from her thoughts. She and Grey had done it. They’d saved countless women. That alone would have been worth her life.

Grey held the lobby door open and she marched to the desk to drop off this week’s cookie delivery for the staff.

“You bribe them with cookies?” Grey asked as they headed to the common room.

“You bet your ass I do.”

“I love you more every day.”

“Honey, you have no idea.” She stopped in front of the door to the common room and turned to him. “This is it.”

He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

She grabbed the door handle and the cold of the metal shot through her hand. Maybe she shouldn’t. Two visitors might be too much for her mother.

“Syd, you’re making me nuts. Quit worrying and open the goddamned door.”

She did and spotted her mother sitting directly in front of them by the window. The blinds were up and sunlight streamed into the room giving it an odd comfort.

To Syd’s relief, her mother wore the new cotton pants and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d brought by earlier in the week. It seemed only right that her mother should meet Grey wearing a new outfit.

She reached for Grey’s hand and led him to the window. “Hi, Mom.”

Her mother turned from her inspection of the tree outside and glanced up with hard, accusing eyes.

Crap
. Number Seven. Off to a great start.

“As usual,” Number Seven said, “you’re dressed like a whore.”

Jeans tucked into boots apparently fell into whore category. Then again, when didn’t Number Seven tell her she looked like a whore?

Either way, she didn’t dare look at Grey.

“Number Seven, I’d like to be alone with my mother.”

Number Seven slid her gaze to Grey.
Uh-oh.
“Who’s this?”

Number Seven lifted her two fingers to her mouth and took a drag of her imaginary cigarette. Now she’d taken up smoking again? Terrific. In a few weeks, she’d give it up again and there was nothing like a schizophrenic trying to kick a pretend nicotine habit.

“This is my friend. Grey.”

“Now you’re fucking someone?”

Welcome to my world, Fed Boy.

“Hello, Number Seven.” Grey stuck out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Number Seven glanced at Grey’s hand, ditched her imaginary cigarette, and actually shook his hand. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She hates when you call her a whore. She’s not a whore. You raised an amazing woman.”

“Grey,” Syd said in warning.

Bakery box still in hand, he turned to her. “Have you ever told her you don’t like being called a whore?”

Okay. This was a mistake. Clearly, he didn’t understand antagonizing Number Seven would be a horrendous mistake.

“Hello, Sydney.”

Recognizing the softness in her mother’s voice—thank God—Sydney bent low and kissed her cheek. “Hi, Mama. I missed you this week.”

“You always say that.”

Gently, her mother squeezed her cheeks. A sudden realization slammed into Syd, crushed her chest and she gasped. Had Nabil completed his quest, her mother would have been left alone. She would have missed the chance to say goodbye and would have spent her limited coherent time wondering what had happened to her daughter. Syd took a heaving breath and slapped her hands over her mother’s. Big, ugly sobs flew from her mouth and her ribcage came apart.
Completely unhinged.

“Oh, my baby, why are you crying?”

On her knees, Syd rested her forehead against her mother’s lap and enjoyed the moment of simplicity in a complicated relationship. “I’m just happy, Mom. For the first time in a long time, I’m very happy.” She stood and held her hand to Grey. “This is Grey. Grey, meet my mother.”

Grey flipped open the bakery box. “Your daughter tells me the two of you used to like chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. I’ve yet to bring her one that measures up, but I’m hoping I’ve finally got it. Try one?”

Her mother pursed her lips and stared at the half-dozen cupcakes. She shifted her gaze to Syd and her blue eyes twinkled in a way Syd hadn’t seen in ten years, and that feeling, that
pow
in her chest that represented having her mother—her real mother—back, could have sustained her for life. “Shall we put them to the test, Mom?”

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