Love or Justice (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Laurie sighed as she put away her uniform. She rubbed at a stain on the collar and sighed again. Hopefully, her manager wouldn’t notice. On second thought, perhaps it didn’t matter anymore.

She turned from the closet to stare at her bed. Her duffle bag lay open on top of the covers. Most of her clothes and toiletries were in the bag already. She couldn’t decide which books to bring. How was she supposed to fit her entire life into one tiny little suitcase?

Not that she had many possessions to begin with. She looked around the tiny closet of a room she’d called home for the past ten years. When she was hired, the resort manager pitied her. They offered her a small room on the lowest level of the resort. Its windows were level with the parking lot. She could hear the HVAC thrumming in the next room. It wasn’t fit for guests, but with nowhere else to go, Laurie thought it was the perfect place for her.

This wasn’t how she wanted to leave it—forced to flee because of some heinous criminal. She swallowed the bile in her throat, pushing the thoughts away. She reminded herself that in a few months she would have moved out of the resort anyway, and onto something better. She was just doing it a bit earlier than she planned.

She’d done the right thing. She’d called the police the second she ran back in the hotel after that animal threatened her. The police swarmed the building, but the gunman, his goons, the woman, and the child were gone. The police took her to the station to get her statement, though they seemed to doubt her credibility.

The cop she talked to finally pulled over a sketch artist. Once completed, the sketch changed everything. The cop dropped the hot coffee in his hand, spun on his heel, and ran to his boss’ office. Soon, the district attorney arrived, which shocked the hell out of Laurie.

The DA pulled her into a dimly lit conference room. He told her he needed to place her in protective custody as soon as possible—tonight in fact. She hadn’t been given a choice. The DA didn’t tell her who the gunman was in the penthouse suite, except to say that his name was Kaimi. The police department had not yet tied him to the kidnapping she apparently witnessed, and they were now very interested in what she had to say.

Then the DA ran from the room, his cell phone buzzing. She didn’t know who this Kaimi was or what he had done, but if her testimony ensured the man paid for his abuse of the woman and child, then she was willing to go with the U.S. Marshal who showed up at her door. It drove her crazy that the woman and child were out there somewhere being threatened, beaten. Or worse. Laurie winced and sighed.

Laurie glanced at her alarm clock. It was almost midnight. It looked like the U.S. Marshal wasn’t going to show-up tonight. So much for white knights in shining armor.

She dropped her open duffle bag on the floor, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Then she laid back, her legs still hanging half off, almost touching the floor. She laid her arm over her eyes. She maneuvered her body around her bed. Little by little, she moved her upper body, her torso, her left leg, and her right leg until her head lay on her pillow. She tossed her wavy blonde hair over the pillow, so it splayed out. Then she closed her eyes, drifting into an exhausted sleep.

***

Laurie was tied. Bound. Gagged. A gun pressed into her temple. She flinched and tried to move away, but it followed her.

“You are nothing to me. Nothing,” the male voice said. “If you try to run, I’ll just put a bullet in your brain. That’s it. So don’t ever try.”

The pistol withdrew for a moment and then came crashing down onto the backside of her shoulder. She cried out, but it sounded garbled. The pistol came after her again across her back. She let out a muffled whimper. The sound of the pistol hitting her bones pounded in her head. There was another whack and another, until Laurie doubled over, writhing in pain. Then she felt herself falling, the sounds of the pistol rapping against her body kept tempo as she fell down, down to the earth.

Laurie shot up in bed. She gasped for air, shuddering. Then the pounding in her dream started again. This time, it emanated from her door. Laurie looked over at the glowing clock. It was 1 am.

“Laurie Shelton! Laurie Shelton, this is the United States Marshals Service. Open up,” insisted the door.

Laurie’s brows arched. The pounding at the door resumed. She got up, pulling on her tattered bathrobe, cursing the bastard that waved his gun in her face. She hadn’t had nightmares in years.

The pounding persisted.

“Okay, I’m awake! I’m awake!” Laurie looked through the peephole.

There was a man standing there, a head taller than her. Her eyes slid over his wavy dark hair, down to his firm angular jaw line and high cheekbones. He had a heavy build, with muscles curving out from under his black t-shirt. His skin was like smooth caramel, warmed in the Hawaiian sun. He was wearing a heavy black vest, with the U.S. Marshals Service logo emblazoned in embroidery over his left shoulder. His badge hung from his neck on a chain. She could only see him from the waste up, but Laurie sucked in her breath.

“Ms. Shelton?” Concern flickered in his brown eyes before he knocked again. Laurie shook herself out of her daze, and flung open the door.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to come so late. I was asleep.” Laurie realized how stupid that sounded and blushed. Of course she was asleep at this time of night.

The Marshal looked her over for a minute, thoughtfully. His eyes took in her robe, her disheveled hair, all the way down to her bare feet.

Laurie crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks flamed under his scrutiny, and his eyes snapped back to her face.

“I’m sorry to arrive so late, ma’am. I’m Dante Stark from the U.S. Marshals Service.” Dante extended his hand to her.

Laurie shook it, giving him a weak smile.

She could tell he wasn’t from the islands. He sounded like the tourists from the eastern part of the continent, like New York or Philadelphia.

“You can call me Laurie. Please come in. I’ll try to gather all my things.” She opened the door wider and stepped back into her room.

Dante moved into the room, filling the tiny, cramped space with his lean, long figure. He surveyed the place in a glance. There was a desk, chair, bookcase, and a bed. That was it. His eyes landed on the closed bathroom door.

“Do you mind if I make sure no one else is here?” He nodded at the bathroom door.

“Well, no one else should be here.”

“It’s protocol. I need to make sure no one else is here.”

Laurie shrugged in answer. She was already too tired for this adventure. She moved to the foot of the bed to pick up the clothes she planned on wearing.

Dante drew his gun, reaching for the doorknob. With a swift motion, he entered the bathroom. He moved the shower curtain and checked out the window.

Laurie sat down on her bed, watching him.

Dante moved over to the closet opposite the bathroom. He moved aside clothes, inspecting the panels in the ceiling. He turned around from her closet and faced her.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you get up from the bed? I have to check under it.”

“Laurie,” she reminded him, as she rose and stepped away.

Dante didn’t answer. He got down on his knees, looking under the bed. He removed a small flashlight from his vest, and flashed it into the shadowy corners.

Laurie felt small beside him and took a step back while he holstered his gun. He was a solid wall of male strength. He stood a foot away, but she felt the heat radiating off him. He flashed her a smile and her pulse leapt.

“All clear. I’ll wait while you change, but we need to move.”

Laurie nodded, and walked into the bathroom to change into her clothes. When she opened the door, Dante was bending over her desk looking at the class schedule she had posted on her corkboard. His eyes lifted to hers.

“You’re a student?”

“Law school. This is my last year.”

Dante took a seat on the only chair in the room. Laurie lifted her duffle bag onto the foot of her bed, and began picking her way through the nearest stack of books. She decided to take all of her Austen books—those she could read every day. She tossed aside most of her psychology books. Then she tucked her tattered copy of
Utilitarianism
by John Stewart Mill into her bag. She sorted through the most helpful books from her contract law class. She glanced at Dante. He was watching her, but his gaze darted away.

“Do you always pick up your witnesses at 1:00 a.m.?”

“No. You’re a special case. Are you planning to take all of those?”

“As many as I can fit. It’s just hard trying to decide between what I know I should take and what I want. Why am I special?”

Dante met her gaze as she sent him a sidelong glance. Something in the air crackled between them. Laurie looked away.

“Well, the case is special. The man you had a run-in with is Kaimi Quamboa, after all.”

“Exactly what did he do to warrant the DA’s personal and immediate attention?”

“He’s an organized crime boss on the islands. The DA’s been after him for years—ever since he took office. You saw him with a woman and child? You saw him with both of them?”

Now he had Laurie’s attention. Perhaps she could finally get some answers. She turned toward Dante as she tossed another book in her bag.

“Yes. Who were they?”

“The woman is Katherine James, and her son is Easton. Her husband is a federal prosecutor, Evan James. Evan put Kaimi’s brother on death row in California. He had him extradited and tried. Kaimi took it personally. He’s ransoming Katherine and Easton for his brother’s release.”

Laurie dropped the book in her hands as she turned to stare at Dante.

Dante nodded.

Laurie shook her head, picking up the fallen book from the floor.

“God, to attack a federal prosecutor’s family. The gall. The FBI would never negotiate with a kidnapper, would they?”

Dante shook his head. Laurie saw his jaw muscles tightened, his features solemn.

“The federal government won’t negotiate. More often than not, complying with a kidnapper’s demands leads to the victim being killed anyway.”

“If the government knows he’s behind the kidnapping, why do they need me?”

“Evidence. They have no other evidence. The demands come through voice-disguised calls from burner cell phones. Kaimi has eluded capture for decades for a reason. He’s good—too good. You’re the only person who’s seen him with his victims. You’re the only person who can connect him directly him to the kidnappings. If he does kill Katherine and Easton, you’re the only person who can tie him to their murder.”

A chill went down Laurie’s spine. The image of Kaimi’s gun swinging over to hover in front of Katherine James swam in front of her eyes. The look the little boy, Easton, gave her flashed in her mind. Laurie shook her head to clear the visions.

“He said he would kill her if I told anyone…they may already be dead.” Her voice became thick with emotion.

Her hands were shaking now as she placed two books into the duffle bag. Dante reached over and covered one of her hands with his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin.

“You don’t need to worry about that now. We need to worry about getting you out of here. Are you ready?”

“Almost.” Laurie gave him a grateful smile.

He nodded, and took back his hand.

Its absence left her skin tingling. For one brief moment, Laurie lost herself in his mocha colored eyes. She glanced away, and the world came rushing back. Laurie stared at her bed, trying to remember exactly what she was supposed to be doing right now. It took her a few moments to remember she needed to pack.

Laurie agonized over her books until Dante cleared his throat. She chose the most interesting books from her two classes this semester and tossed them in on top. Then she pulled open her desk drawer and took out several photos. Her mother, father, and a five-year-old version of herself smiled back at her. She tucked them into one of the books. She turned in a circle surveying her room.

“I think that’s it.”

Dante rose, but said nothing. He stood frozen. There was a soft scraping noise, and a muffled thump. Laurie dismissed the barely audible noise as she sorted through her books again. Dante grabbed her arm.

“Hey—” Laurie looked up at him as he covered her mouth with his hand.

He held her firmly, but Laurie felt no danger from him. More muffled sounds came from the bathroom. The window popped open, and Laurie jumped.

“Get in the closet, close the door, and don’t move until I tell you to,” Dante breathed the words in her ear.

He reached down to take out his gun.

Laurie’s heart pounded as she went into the closet and closed the door, except for a tiny sliver of a crack.

Dante moved so he was behind the bathroom door.