Justice Served (5 page)

“Why don’t you lie down for a little while.” Sloan slid her hand beneath Michael’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll walk you into the bedroom.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Michael asked, remaining motionless, searching Sloan’s face. “Something about what happened to me?”

“No.” Sloan crouched again until their eyes were at the same level. She held Michael’s gaze as she lightly stroked her cheek. “No. You had a really bad concussion. Remember Ali said it might be a few weeks before the symptoms cleared up? Headaches especially. It’s probably just too soon to work at the computer.”

“Sloan,” Michael said fervently, “that’s where I do most of my work. I’m a design consultant.”

“I know, baby, I know.”  The edge of anxiety in Michael’s voice was unmistakable, and Sloan ached to reassure her. “But you’ve only been out of the hospital a week. This is normal.”

“I hate this.” Michael wrapped her arms around Sloan’s neck and leaned into her, resting her cheek on Sloan’s shoulder. “I hate feeling so weak, and I hate feeling useless. And I hate being apart from you most of all.”

“Oh no, baby. No.” Sloan rose slowly, enfolding Michael in her arms, and kissed her forehead, then her lips. “You’re getting better, and that’s the most important thing to me. Lying with you at night, holding you, waking up with you beside me. That’s everything.”

Michael pressed against her, needing her solid strength. “Not quite everything.”

Sloan’s pulse skyrocketed as Michael’s breath caressed her neck and the soft curves of Michael’s body melded to her own. The rush of arousal was entirely beyond her control, and she tried valiantly not to let her desire show. They had made love briefly several days before, despite Sloan’s protests. Michael had seemed to need the connection, and Sloan could refuse her nothing. But despite her body’s acute response to her lover’s nearness, sex was the last thing on Sloan’s mind. All she wanted was for Michael to be well. “No, definitely not everything, but those other things can wait.”

“No choice.” Michael sighed, brushing her lips over Sloan’s. “Damn—I’m sorry. I need to lie down.” She mustered a smile. “Then I want you to tell me what you’ve been doing since last night.”

Once they were settled in the bedroom, Michael curled against Sloan’s side with her head on her lover’s shoulder. While Sloan recounted the details of the meeting at Police Plaza, Michael listened without comment, her arm curved around Sloan’s waist.

“So you agreed?” Michael asked when Sloan fell silent.

“More or less,” Sloan said. “I agreed to submit a preliminary assessment of the status of their electronic retrieval and analysis capabilities, along with my recommendations for developing a state-of-the-art electronic surveillance unit. Probably once they see my bill, that will be the end of it.”

Michael laughed gently. “Why
did
you agree? You don’t need the work, and I can’t imagine that they’ll be able to pay your going rate.”

Sloan shrugged but said nothing. Her continued silence triggered every one of Michael’s alarms, but the persistent throbbing in her head made it hard for her to think clearly. She was aware only of a sense of unease, and her frustrating inability to process it made her headache even worse. She sighed.

“I can’t figure this out on my own, love,” Michael said quietly. “Please tell me.”

“Developing the ESU is a straightforward job. It’ll be a little frustrating due to the antiquated equipment and bureaucratic roadblocks that are sure to exist, but all in all, it might be fun.”

“And?”

Sloan pressed her lips to Michael’s temple and rubbed her hand in gentle circles over the center of Michael’s back. “And I’ll have access to every computer in the system.  Somewhere in there is the answer that we’ve all been looking for.”

“You mean…” Michael began hesitantly. Frowning, she tried desperately to sort out the fragments of memory and shattered connections in her still-traumatized brain.  “…who killed Rebecca’s partner?”

Sloan nodded.

“And who...hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“And then what will you do?”

Sloan knew the answer that Michael wanted. She knew the answer but hesitated, because she couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know.”

Michael raised her head, ignoring the surge of pain, to look into Sloan’s eyes. “You promised me you would tell Rebecca. I remember that. You promised.”

“I did,” Sloan whispered. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft fragrance of Michael’s hair. Her voice barely registered a whisper. “It’s just that…I want to hurt someone for hurting you.”

“I know.” Michael stroked Sloan’s cheek, then threaded her fingers into Sloan’s hair. She raised her mouth to Sloan’s and kissed her gently. “I won’t ask you to keep your promise, because I know that you will.”

Sloan let the comfort of Michael’s kiss soothe her troubled soul, wondering if she would be able to keep her lover’s trust.

Sloan jerked awake to the ringing of the bedside phone. Cursing silently, she tried to reach it without shifting Michael’s head from her shoulder, hoping not to rouse her.

“I’ll get it,” Michael whispered, rolling carefully toward the side of the bed. She retrieved the portable handset and passed it to Sloan before curling up against her lover’s side again.

“Sloan,” she said, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. She couldn’t believe she’d dropped off in the middle of the day. She rarely slept, day
or
night, when in the middle of a project. The investigation with Rebecca’s team had been ongoing for several weeks, and her role in it had grown so steadily that she and Jason had put all their other contracts on hold. Now, when she was so close to a breakthrough—with finding Michael’s assailant as the payoff—she could think of little else. Only her concern for Michael’s well-being took precedence. “Uh-huh. Sure. That sounds fine.”

“Problem?” Michael asked when Sloan hung up with a faint groan.

“No, just a meeting with Frye.” Sloan kissed Michael’s forehead and eased away. “But I’m going to have to go. I’m sorry. You should sleep a little longer.”

Michael laughed. “Darling, all I do is sleep.” She sat up slowly, then stood. “Let me walk you out.”

Sloan took her hand as they left the bedroom. “You know, there’s something I forgot to tell you. I invited Mitchell to stay here for a few days—until she’s getting around a little bit better.”

“I think that’s a good idea. When is she coming?”

“Today sometime. Her girlfriend Sandy too.”

“Well, we’ve got room.”

“You don’t mind?” Sloan stopped in front of the loft doors and curved an arm around Michael’s waist, drawing her near. “Because if it’s too much—”

“I don’t plan on cooking and cleaning for them, darling,” Michael chided gently. “It’ll be fine. The company will be nice.” She kissed Sloan lingeringly, cleaving to her as she did. When she drew away, she sighed contentedly. “God, you feel so good.”

“You too,” Sloan replied, her voice husky and low.

“My headache’s gone.” Michael cupped her hand behind Sloan’s neck and kissed her again.

“Oh, baby,” Sloan gasped. “I have to go. Frye is going to be here any minute.”

“You go ahead.” Michael smiled, her eyes liquid with desire. “I’ll be here later.”

“I know,” Sloan murmured, drawing a finger along the edge of Michael’s jaw and over her mouth. “And knowing that is the best thing in my life.”

*

In the conference room on the third floor of Sloan’s building, Rebecca helped herself to a cup of coffee. The rest of the huge space was partitioned into various work areas crammed with computers and a vast array of electronic equipment, some of which was not yet available on the open market. At the sound of footsteps at her back, she turned and greeted Sloan. “Sorry for the short notice.”

Wordlessly, Sloan shrugged and headed straight for the coffeepot. She poured a cup, took a long sip, and lounging against the counter, regarded Rebecca inquiringly. “No problem. Something come up?”

“Clark arrived for a meeting with Henry, and I decided I needed to be unavailable.”

“What’s that bastard doing back in the picture?”

“I don’t know.” Rebecca looked past Sloan to the door and nodded to the handsome blond man who stood on the threshold. His expensive, meticulously tailored shirt and pants contrasted distinctly to Sloan’s casual attire, but the shadows beneath his deep blue eyes mirrored hers. “Hi, Jase. How’s it going?”

Jason McBride, Sloan’s associate at Sloan Security, smiled tiredly. “It feels like moving a mountain with a tablespoon, there’s so much data to sift through.”

“You should take a break before Sarah comes and drags you out of here,” Sloan suggested, referring to her best friend and Jason’s live-in lover. “Go home, get some sleep.”

“Yeah, like you, I suppose,” Jason remarked with friendly sarcasm.

“
I
just woke up.”

Clearly surprised, Jason sank into one of the chairs at the conference table. “So miracles really
do
happen.”

Laughing, Sloan joined him.

Jason looked to Rebecca. “What’s happening on your end?”

“A few noteworthy bits, but let’s wait for Watts. He’ll be here any minute.”

Right on cue, a subdued pinging emanated from a speaker in the far corner of the room. All three heads turned toward the bank of security monitors lined up along the wall. The first screen showed an image projected from the video camera above the street-level door. Watts stood on the top step, frowning up at the camera. Before Sloan could buzz him in, he turned his back to the building, as if looking back down the street.

“Hey,” Jason said as another figure materialized. “That’s Mitchell!”

“I’d better go give them a hand,” Sloan said, punching in a number sequence on a keypad to release the security locks on the street-level door.

“Stay put,” Rebecca interjected. “I’ll go.”

As soon as they were alone, Jason queried Sloan. “Why the meeting?”

“It looks like the team is back in business,” Sloan said.

“Really? Good, because we could use some help tracking down the rest of the video-porn subscribers. And anything else we find along the way.”

Sloan said nothing.

“What?”

“You might have to handle that alone.”

Jason frowned. “Why?”

“I’m going to be tied up with another job.”

“You’re kidding.” Jason stared, clearly confused. “What could be more important than delivering the coup de grâce to this smut ring?”

“You know what, Jason,” Sloan replied softly.

“We’ve got a line into their organization now, Sloan,” Jason pointed out. “We’ll nail down the porn distributors, and one of them is going to roll. Then we’ll be able to pinpoint Michael’s assailant or at least find out who gave the order.”

“Starting tomorrow,” Sloan said with evident satisfaction, “I’m going to have access to everything I need to figure out who is responsible.” At his look of puzzlement, she went on, “I agreed to help develop an electronic surveillance unit for the police department. I’m now an official civilian consultant.”

“You’re kidding.” The sound of voices from just outside the door prevented him from elaborating further on his disbelief. He turned, and a smile lit his handsome features. “Dell? Hey. How are you?”

“Great.” Mitchell, seated in a wheelchair with Sandy at the helm, grinned back. “The doc said I can’t weight-bear until tomorrow. But then I’ll be mobile.”

“Crutches,” Sandy muttered. “Freakin’ crutches, Dell.”

“Excellent,” Jason said. “Hi, Sandy.”

“Hi,” Sandy replied as she helped Mitchell move from the wheelchair to a seat at the table.

Rebecca sat down on Mitchell’s right, with Watts on her opposite side. Once Sandy joined them, Rebecca began. “Okay. Everyone’s here, so let’s get up to speed. As of this morning, we are now officially the High Profile Crimes Unit.” She looked around the table. “Jason, you and Sloan will have official status as civilian consultants. Sloan’s going to be doing some work directly from police headquarters, but you’ll still be based here. In fact,” she regarded Sloan now, “I’d like to base the entire unit here if at all possible. I don’t trust the security at headquarters.”

“That’s fine with me,” Sloan said. “Jason and Mitchell can set up a secure databank to handle the necessary documentation. We’ll store everything using the Justice Department encryption protocol, so we should have no problem with the records being admissible in court.”

“Handy,” Watts observed. “You just
happening
to have that program.”

“I learned everything I know from Uncle Sam.” Sloan grinned. “Just your tax dollars at work.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“Jason,” Rebecca’s voice rose above the friendly bantering. “Where are you with the data analysis?”

“In addition to the guys running the video relay stations that we’ve already identified, we could potentially track down about three hundred subscribers just in the greater metropolitan area alone. How hard do you want to go after them?”

“How long would it take?”