Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) (30 page)

Or at least until Grey gets the key out of your safe.

Not waiting for a response, she shut the door. Might as well have a seat and give Grey a few more minutes. They should have worked out some kind of signal.

She glanced around. Why the hell did she always wind up in a bathroom contemplating her next move?

“Are you well?” Ahmed asked from the hallway.

She couldn’t sit here long. He’d come in and check on her. “My stomach is queasy. I just need a moment. Please don’t leave me.”
Begging couldn’t hurt.

For emphasis, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands. A look in the mirror confirmed, thankfully, her less than comfortable state. Ahmed didn’t need to know the real reasons behind her discomfort.

Fed Boy, I hope you got that key out.

She swung the door open and offered a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling a little off today.”

Grey appeared in the hallway. “Cindy, are you okay?”

“She’s fine. Go back to work.”

Grey cut his gaze to Ahmed—
wrong move Mr. Lion
—and came back to Syd. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“She’s well. Now we’ll get back to our evening.” Ahmed poked a beefy finger at Grey. “You, get back to work.”

Grey inched toward him.

Syd, her back to Ahmed, eased between the two men. “Boys, let’s all play nice now.”

Suddenly, Ahmed’s hand slipped under her arm and linked around her, his fingers hot and branding. She stepped forward an inch, but The Lion tightened his lock. Grey’s gaze shot to Ahmed’s fingers inching their way up Syd’s torso until his thumb brushed her breast.

Back and forth that thumb went and Syd ignored the panic rippling inside her. She focused on Grey, trying to pull his heated stare from Ahmed’s hand.

Don’t you lose it
.

“Come, my love,” Ahmed said. “We have things to do.”

Syd couldn’t see behind her, but she was quite sure by the way Grey looked over her shoulder that he and Ahmed were having one hell of a staring match.

“Maybe she doesn’t want you touching her that way,” Grey said.

“I’ll touch her any way I please.” The other hand came around and he cupped her breast, giving it a vicious squeeze. Syd gasped at the paralyzing pressure. “I’ve paid for this!”

Grey’s face contorted into hollowed out lines and the hatred in his eyes, that raw anger he kept at bay, seeped out.

Game over
.

Underneath it all, she and Grey were essentially the same animal with similar trigger points. When those triggers were hit, their reactions were swift and targeted. Having an acute understanding of those reactions, those animal instincts, Syd did the only thing she could do.

She jumped the hell out of the way before Grey’s fist plowed into The Lion’s jaw.

Chapter Twenty-five

There was nothing more satisfying, Grey decided as Ahmed staggered backward and flailed against the kitchen sink, than nailing a killer in the mouth with a good right hook.

His training had him taking a second swing—follow-through was important—but a heavy weight latched onto his bicep and stopped his fist in midair. “We don’t accost customers,” Monroe growled. “Bad for business.”

The voice cheering wildly in Grey’s head drowned out Monroe’s.
Screwed up again, buddy boy. Way to go
.

Damn. As the red haze of his anger cleared, Grey lowered his fist. Frustration boiled in his veins. First, the key didn’t unlock the safe and then The Lion mistreated Sydney. Grabbed her breast like he owned it. Mauled her right in front of God and country.
Untouchable
. The bastard thought he was untouchable.

Wasn’t this the night from hell?

Even though Grey had screwed up royally, he wasn’t going to apologize. In fact, if he could detach Monroe’s vice of a grip, he’d…

Monroe’s hand tightened and he used some full-body contact to spin Grey out of the way. The hero, always up to save the day. “Our apologies, Mr. Khourey. My partner, here, has been under a lot of stress lately. Front Range will give you a significant discount on your system and throw in my bodyguard duties free of charge.”

Ahmed touched his fingers to his bleeding lip, sneered at Grey, and spit blood onto the floor at Grey’s feet. “How dare you touch me. I will have you fired.”

Grey laughed, an ugly sound that vibrated inside the kitchen and rang hollow in his ears. That was one threat that didn’t scare him. He started to smart off and say something stupid, but a lighter touch stroked his spine from behind.

Syd.

Taking a purposeful breath, he shut down the rage and frustration. He had a job to do and it didn’t involve veils or the FBI or Front Range.

He had to protect her.

The Lion was riled up but good. There would be fallout.
So long as he takes it out on me and not Syd.

Raising his hands in a submissive gesture, Grey locked eyes with Ahmed. “That was completely unprofessional and you have every right to file a complaint with Front Range. You also have every right to take a swing at me, which would probably be more satisfying.”

“Get out,” The Lion snarled. “You will never work in this town again.”

Not far from the truth if I don’t come up with those damn veils.

He spun around, headed to the living room to gather his tools and the equipment he hadn’t yet installed. Behind him, Monroe tried to smooth things over with Ahmed in a low,
let’s not do anything hasty
voice. He’d sweet talk his way into staying if he could, but if the key didn’t fit the safe, what was the point? Monroe didn’t need to stick around and protect Syd. She’d already played the part of being sick. She’d be out the door before Grey was. He’d make sure of it.

Stupid of him to lose control.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. Seeing Ahmed touch Sydney had sent him right over the edge. He hadn’t felt that vulnerable since…

Since Molly’s killer had gotten away scot-free.

Rage and frustration did an encore in Grey’s gut. He’d have nightmares of The Lion raping and killing Sydney, sure as shit. They’d go along nicely with the nightmares he still had of his sister and her killer.

God. Damn.

Lost in his own world, he didn’t notice Sydney and Ahmed arguing at the front door until Syd raised her voice. Sure enough, she was walking out, complaining that her stomach wasn’t cooperating and she needed to go home and rest. From the look on her face, Grey doubted it was an act.

Ahmed was incensed. He grabbed her arm and tried to stop her. Grey dropped the toolbox and the pack of micro-sized cameras and crossed the space to the door in three long strides. Monroe intercepted, slamming both hands against Grey’s chest in an effort to stop him, but it did no good. Grey shoved Monroe to the side, grabbed Ahmed by his shirt collar, and rammed him back against the wall. “The lady said she doesn’t want to stay with you. Leave her the hell alone.”

Before Ahmed could speak, a voice from the stair landing interrupted. “Baba? What is going on?”

Nabil. He’d been locked away in his bedroom when Grey had gone upstairs to install sensors on the windows. His gaze darted from his father to Sydney, who stood on the threshold, and then over to the picture. Dammit! He’d shut it, but there it was, hanging open half an inch. In his hurry, it must not have latched.

Grey followed the kid’s gaze to a small keyhole, nearly imperceptible, on the side of the picture frame.

I’ll be goddamned.

A second safe.

The veils were hidden in a picture safe, not the wall safe, the irony of the picture and its hidden contents not lost on Grey.

Releasing The Lion, he stepped back and eyed Nabil. The kid knew about the safe. Was he helping his father hide the trophies? Or was he in on the kills?

Shit, shit, and more shit.

Syd slipped out, the door banging shut behind her as Ahmed finally found his balls and punched Grey in the jaw.

Ahmed was a pompous fifty-three-year-old politician who hadn’t seen a gym in years, if ever. The punch got Grey’s attention and snapped his head to the side, but little else. He rubbed his jaw and smirked. “Feel better?”

Monroe once again jumped between them, pushing Grey toward the door. “Time for you to go, Mr. Black. I’ll take care of things here.”

Grey let himself be shoved out the door. Syd’s limo was pulling away from the curb. Thank God, she was safe.

The porch light went out, leaving Grey in darkness. He fingered the key in his pocket and smiled into the dark. The Lion could kick him out, but he couldn’t stop Grey from bringing him to justice.

“Now what?” Sydney said, her voice through the phone rough with strain.

Which was why Grey wasn’t going to go up the stairs and ring her doorbell. She needed sleep. She didn’t need him and his anxiety riddled body keeping her up all night.

Slouching in the driver’s seat of the Challenger, he fingered his phone and looked at the single lighted window in her home. “There’s a second safe, the frame around the veiled woman picture in the living room. The key must go to that.”

A shadow moved across the window’s closed curtains. Sydney was pacing. “So I have to go back, try to get into
that
safe?”

“Not you.” Grey sunk deeper into the leather seat. He hated the tension and worry in her voice. Worry he’d put there. “Me. Tomorrow. Ahmed and Nabil are scheduled to be in a meeting on Capitol Hill from ten to noon. While they’re there, I’ll sneak in and try the key.”

“Won’t the new security system alert Ahmed that you’re in his house?”

“I created a back door into the system that only Monroe and I know how to access. I’ll be fine.”

Her shadow crossed the window again. Her voice was tight from exhaustion. Frustration. “What if the frame safe doesn’t have the trophies? What if
neither
safe has them?”

“I sent a couple of DNA samples from the house to the lab. If they match up with the DNA extracted from the last woman’s body, we may have enough for a search warrant even if I can’t prove the trophies are in the house.”

A long, tired pause followed. “Thank you for what you did tonight.”

“It was nothing.”

“It was everything. Stupid, by the way. But thank you. You jeopardized the case for me.”

Which was something the FBI had taught him never to do. “Don’t worry about the case. Get some sleep.”

“You’re not coming by?”

The disappointment in her voice was strangely reassuring. “We both need sleep and if I’m in the same bed with you, neither of us will get any. I’ll drive you to work in the morning, okay?”

Another pause. “Promise me you’re not going back to that asshole’s place to go another round with him.”

“I promise.” He didn’t plan to move an inch the rest of the night. He had to shield Syd from the fallout of his stupidity. “Now go to bed and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

They disconnected and Grey watched until the light in the window went out. He sipped his coffee and rubbed his eyes, settling into surveillance mode. The Lion wasn’t one to let this go. If he twisted Ian Goldberg’s arm hard enough, the dickweed would give up information about Syd, including her address.

For a minute, Grey almost wished Ahmed
would
show up.
Just one false move
. Grey would be all too happy to put an end to the man.

The next few hours wore on indefinitely. How long had it been since he’d slept? Grey rolled down the windows, cranked up bad music, and got out of the car and stretched every time his lids grew heavy.

At four a.m., Monroe slid into the passenger seat. “Every time I think I’ve nailed Screw-up of the Year, you go and upstage me. It’s starting to piss me off.”

“Fucking Lion.” Grey blew out a deep breath. “I’d love to knock the cockiness out of him.”

“You and me, both, my man, but that shit you pulled tonight? I don’t know, Grey. I tried to smooth things over with the asshole, but he was still hot when I left.”

Lack of sleep made Grey snarky. “You told me to get in touch with my emotions.”

“And it was quite a show. I’m proud of you, even if you do need to work on your timing.”

They shared a fist bump.

Monroe switched the radio station, eyed Grey. “How come you’re not freaking out about this?”

Fishing the key from his pocket, Grey dangled it in front of his former partner’s nose. “Tomorrow, I go back and find those damn trophies.”

“It is tomorrow.”

“Today, then. After I get Sydney safely to work at the shelter, I’m going trophy hunting.”

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’m always like this on a case.”

“Not about the case. About the girl.”

“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman. One I care about.”

“Obviously. And for good reason. She’s something else.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Monroe lowered his window, shifted so he could see the duplex’s windows. “Since I’m here, you might as well take a nap.”

Grey wanted to say no. Instead, he shut his eyes. He needed to be awake and ready to go when the time came. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Nap he did. Monroe shook him out of a sound sleep at seven. “Everything was quiet. What time you want me to meet you at the brownstone?”

Grey yawned and stretched as best he could in the cramped quarters. Good thing he carried a spare shirt and toothpaste in the trunk. “I’ll get Sydney settled at work and text you. Probably around nine, depending on traffic.”

Monroe eased his big body out of the car and groaned. “Damn, I had forgotten how much I hate surveillance.”

At eight, Sydney met Grey at her door with a cup of coffee. He kissed her and wondered what it would be like to start every day with her and her coffee.

Probably more than he could hope for.

“Ready?” he asked.

Her eyes looked less fatigued but there were still shadows under them. This mission was taking too much of a toll. “Can you carry this box for me?”

Today
, Grey thought. If he could pull it off and come up with probable cause for a warrant, everything would be wrapped up before she got off work.