Protecting Justice (The Justice Series Book 4) (14 page)

“No,” Fallyn admitted. “But someone gave it to her. I just have to find out who.”

“Detective Hollister came by and asked me a bunch of questions. He seems very competent, Fallyn. Maybe you should leave this in his hands.”

Not likely
. Fallyn went to the door and opened it. “I’ll check in with you later.”

Jordan didn’t try for a hug this time, but she did pat Fallyn on the arm. “Don’t forget to get her suits ready for Fresh Start. Sydney Banfield, the director, is doing her annual career day at the shelter. Heather always donated suits to it for the women. Ms. Banfield will be stopping by to pick them up. I gave her your number so she can work out details with you.”

Once she was gone, Fallyn crossed her arms and tapped the bottom of her coffee cup against her elbow. “So that was a dead end.”

Tony boosted off the doorframe and grabbed his cup from the foyer table. “Why do you say that?”

He took hers from her hand and headed into the kitchen.

Fallyn trailed behind him. “You heard her, the subcommittee reviewed the case and were satisfied with the CIA’s findings. Case closed. The FBI investigated all of the death threats and none were deemed credible.”

He poured the contents of each cup into a ceramic mug and stuck both of them in the microwave. “And you don’t think Heather might have been doing her own investigation into CanAir?”

“That’s exactly what I think, but Jordan obviously doesn’t know anything about it. I’m going to have to dig deeper.”

“Is there anyone else you can ask without throwing up red flags and bringing unwanted attention to yourself?”

“Maybe. For now, I need to go get those suits ready for this Fresh Start gal.”

“You’ll like Sydney. She does good work at the shelter.”

“You know her?”

The microwave dinged. Tony handed her the mug with her coffee in it. “She’s Grey’s fiancée.”

“No way.”

He grinned. “Tough as nails. Like you. She’s got him wrapped around her pinky.”

The thought of a woman bringing Justice Greystone to his knees made Fallyn smile. Every one of them—the male species—had an Achilles heel and the right woman could use that to her advantage. She looked forward to meeting this Sydney Banfield. “I like her already.”

“So you want to head upstairs?”

There was something flirty in his voice. His eyes held hers with that smoldering look in them.

Fallyn’s throat suddenly went dry. She took a swig of her coffee and realized, too late, it was too hot to chug.

Coffee spewed from her mouth and she vaulted for the sink. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she said, hiding her face with her hand. She tore a paper towel from the holder and wiped her mouth, coughed and sputtered, and tried to breathe.

A glass of water came into her view with a big, strong hand wrapped around it. Tony chuckled as she gladly accepted it from him and got her coughing under control.

“That coffee,” she sputtered. “Too hot.”

“Funny,” he said, sipping from his mug and grinning at her. “Mine’s just right.”

Bastard. She drew a deep breath, set down the water glass and rubbed her hands together. “So you were saying?”

“The suits? They’re upstairs in the closet?”

That’s not what he’d meant when he’d flashed those sexy eyes at her. “Of course,”—
you tease
—“I’ll get started on those, but you really don’t have to stay. I mean, Grey has the tablet and no one’s taken another run at me, so I guess I’m safe here. You must have other things to do.”

“You let me worry about that,” he said. “Now let’s get those suits together.”

* * *

An hour later, the suits were ready and the bedroom was looking as clean and neat as it had before the break-in. Fallyn was going through a bunch of Heather’s bills at the kitchen table, Tony working on a laptop and occasionally answering texts and emails, when the doorbell rang.

Fallyn started for the door. Tony grabbed her from behind and stopped her, going to the door himself. “It’s Jordan’s father,” he said, looking out the peephole.

“Well, let him in.”

“You sure you’re up for round two with him?”

She waved off his serious look. “He’s a good friend of our family and was Heather’s biggest supporter outside of my dad. I’m sure he’s just here to check on me. I
was
a little crazy the other day.”

Tony’s serious face morphed into a grin. “I like your brand of crazy.”

She batted his arm. “Let the poor man in.”

“Sir,” Tony said, opening the door but standing in the way. “What brings you here?”

“Me? What are
you
doing here?” Carl asked.

Fallyn shoved Tony out of the way. “I’m sorry, Carl. My…Tony…is a little overprotective. Come in.”

Carl stepped inside, fidgeting with a cardboard box in his hand. “Jordan gave me this the other day. A few of Heather’s personal items. I meant to bring them by sooner, but you know how it is.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Fallyn accepted the box, but found it lifted from her hands by Tony. He took it into the kitchen and stayed there, out of sight, but eavesdropping, no doubt. “I would have picked it up.”

“I wanted to check on you, anyway.” Carl glanced around. “Jordan said you didn’t find the pills you were looking for.”

Word traveled fast. “No, we didn’t, but I believe Detective Hollister sent the prescriptions to a lab to have them analyzed. Maybe one of the bottles was mislabeled or had the wrong drugs in it.”

He removed the hat from his head and frowned. “This is a serious accusation, Fallyn, that your sister was given—or purposely took—a drug that caused her heart failure.”

And what? Now he thought Heather committed suicide? Fallyn nearly gawked. The balls. “What are you insinuating, Carl?”

Carl’s eyes turned hard. “Nothing, Fallyn. Whatever you’re thinking, get it out of your head.”

“The autopsy report doesn’t lie. She had high amounts of Perisoladol in her system. There is no prescription for the stuff. We need to know how it got there.”

A sigh. He fingered his hat, working it in circles. “Jordan said you’re asking questions about Heather’s investigations now. What are you trying to do, here, Fallyn?”

Good God—was he accusing her? “I’m trying to get answers to my sister’s death. It’s not out of the question that someone purposely gave her a drug that killed her.”

Carl blanched. “You don’t know that.”

“I
do
know that, and I’m going to dig into every corner and every crease until I figure out who did this to her and why. Was it someone still pissed about her vetoing that bill or something else? Do you know anything about her investigating the CanAir disappearance?”

Another round of the hat through his bony fingers. “I do not, but if I promise to look into it, will you stand down for now?” He lowered his voice, his eyes softening once more with pain and something else. Something that reminded her of her father when he was going to give her a warning. “You’re going to piss off the wrong people in Washington, Fallyn, and for what? Possibly nothing. Let me handle the political side of this thing. I can do it without bringing attention to myself or getting you in hot water.”

His continued contracting at the State Department afforded him a lot of leverage. He had access to files and information Fallyn could only dream of. “You’re right.” A statement everyone loved to hear and one that usually put them at ease. “Do what you can and let me know what you find out. I appreciate your help.”

Which didn’t mean she was going to stand down, but appeasing Carl and getting him off her ass was her first goal.

“Good.” He returned the hat to his head, everything settled. At least in his mind. “I’m taking your father to dinner tonight. You’re welcome to join us.”

Oh, boy. Dinner with her dad and Carl.
Shoot me now
. “I think a boys’ night is in order for Dad without me tagging along.”

Carl nodded and left. Fallyn shut the door and leaned against it, blowing out a long breath.

Tony emerged from the kitchen. “You backed down on that one.”

“Funny thing is,” Fallyn said, reaching for her cell phone, “the more people tell me to lay off, the more bullheaded I become about forging full steam ahead.”

“Who are you calling?” Tony asked.

“A guy who owes me a really big favor.” She listened to the phone ring on the other end. “It’s time to cash it in.”

* * *

Tony opened the door to the dive burger joint and even from his spot on the threshold he inhaled the aroma of searing meat. The place didn’t look like much, but it smelled pretty damned good. He waved Fallyn inside, giving her a skeptical look in the process. Between her and the guy they were meeting, they couldn’t come up with a better locale? Perhaps one where someone wouldn’t get shot?

And, maybe, Fallyn could have left her designer suit and shoes in the closet for this field trip? Jesus, they’d be lucky if a bunch of gangbangers didn’t file in carrying semi-automatics and force her to strip.

Which, of course, would compel him to do some serious ass-kicking and potentially wind up with a few bullet holes himself.

Definitely should have put her in sweat pants.

“Hey,” she said, seeming to read his mind, “he chose the place. Not me.”

“Well, that makes me feel marginally better considering your shoes probably cost more than the entire building. You could have gone for a look that didn’t scream I-have-money.”

At that, she burst out laughing and the sound of it, despite the fact that he should be royally pissed that she took her own safety for granted, made him smile. Fallyn wasn’t exactly easy. This was a woman who’d take a man’s leg—or possibly other body parts—off if he crossed her. But underneath all the toughness he sensed compassion and a willingness to do whatever it took to protect her loved ones.

And on that, they were of the same mind.

So he’d give her a pass for laughing at him.

This time.

“There he is,” she said, marching toward a booth on the far side of the restaurant.

“You want me to stay scarce?”

“Nah. He knows if I’m with someone, he can trust them. I built a reputation on discretion.”

As they approached, the man met Fallyn’s gaze then sized up Tony.
Yeah, dude, I’m staying.

On the table in front of him was a half-eaten burger and some fries. Obviously, the guy had opted for an early lunch. His attempt at covert action. His
attempt
to look like he wasn’t a government employee having a clandestine meeting about a potential cover-up.

Without stopping to exchange pleasantries, Fallyn slid into the booth, Tony beside her.

“Hey, Fallyn,” the guy said.

“Hi, Blake. Thanks for meeting us. This is Tony.”

Blake nodded but didn’t bother with a handshake. All part of the effort to appear they hadn’t just met, Tony supposed.

Whatever. As long as they all got out without Fallyn’s shoes getting boosted. Tony glanced around the mostly empty restaurant, made brief eye contact with an older man sitting three tables over reading a newspaper. The guy quickly averted his eyes and went back to his paper.

Outside of that, the place was quiet for 10:30 on a Friday morning.

“So, what’s up?” Blake said. “I need to get back.”

Fallyn clasped her hands together on top of the scarred Formica table. “I need to know what’s up with the Foreign Relations committee’s investigation on the CanAir flight.”

“Which one?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Blake,” Fallyn said, “don’t be an asshole. We’re both too busy and my sister is dead. I’m well aware that your boss…” she turned to Tony and nodded toward Blake, “…
his
boss is Senator Dolan, a member of the Armed Services committee. He and Senator Margaret Oren, the chair of Foreign Relations, have a standing meeting every Wednesday at noon in a room on the fourth floor at the InterContinental.” She looked back at Blake, “I think you should stop screwing with me.”

Jeez, the woman was hell on wheels.

A seriously pale Blake held his hands out. “How am I screwing with you?”

She leaned in. “In the next ten seconds, you’re going to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Which, we both know, is a lie because your boss, a married man, is having an affair with a colleague, a married woman, and my guess is there’s a lot of pillow talk that goes on between two senators. Pillow talk that most likely starts to leak into each respective senator’s office. And since one of the senators we’re talking about chairs the committee investigating a highly suspicious plane crash involving the most wanted terrorist in the world, I think there’s a high propensity for leakage. So, please, Blake, cut the shit and remember that you owe me your career after I bailed you out of that little DUI problem last year.”

And…wow. That right there? Smoking hot. Total turn on. No prisoners. Bam. Right to the jugular. Damn, he loved that. Watching her work, watching her plow through the bullcrap to get to what she needed. The only thing missing in the I-want-to-do-her department was an erection.