Justice for Miranda Page 11

  When Trace released a hand from her hip and flattened it against her skin, Miranda knew what he was about to do. Lowering her chest, she gave him a little extra room.

  And she heard him groan deep in his chest when his finger rubbed up against her clit.

  It took a moment to force air into her lungs but when she did, she made use of it.

  “You may think you’re in charge,” she bit into her lip as he plucked at her fevered flesh, “but I got you to give me exactly what I wanted.”

  She hovered near the edge of oblivion, her body reaching for release, but it shouldn’t have surprised her that it was Trace’s deep thrust that pushed them both over at the same time.

  Chapter 9

  The first day of the trial had been almost exactly what they’d anticipated.

  The defense attorney had made a motion for separate trials for each of the suspects and had lost the motion. The prosecutor had started out strong, outlining the whole case, but when it came to the opening statement for the defense, it had gone a little bit off the rails.

  With an even smile on her face, the attorney for all five men hung her entire defense on the fact that the youngest of the group, the one who had alleged that they’d hit the deer with the truck had been the one responsible.

  That’s when everything started circling the drain for the prosecution.

  Gathering at a diner near the courthouse, the assembled group could barely manage to cobble together decent conversation and soon most of them were gone except for Trace, Miranda, and her cousin, Jun.

  “So we’re looking at another trial?”

  Miranda gave her cousin a sheepish grin. “That’s what we’re waiting to find out.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jun looked from Miranda to Trace. “What’s the problem exactly? She said that the guy admits to it. So who cares if he was at the wheel? He’s guilty.”

  Trace waited to see if Miranda wanted to explain, but instead she gestured to him to take the lead.

  “Well, since the five are tied to the one case, it could actually set four of the men free.”

  “But they had guns in the truck. Drugs! What could possibly work in their favor?”

  “Fruit of the poisonous tree.” The words tasted sour in his mouth. “At least that’s what they’re trying to argue. If he tried to put his own actions on the others instead of admitting to his own misdeeds, we might not have searched and taken him into custody.”

  “I haven’t been out of the game long,” Miranda sighed, “but the judge will see through this as a ploy.”

  Trace looked at her and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “That’s what I’m hoping for. This is a straight-forward case.”

  Jun set his mug down and looked at his cousin. “At least we know what they had in mind for a defense. From here it’s going to be interesting, but at least you have a better idea of what they’re going to throw at you.”

  Miranda leaned closer to him and Trace couldn’t help but smile when she snuggled into his side.

  Everything that had happened between them had gone from zero to a hundred and ten in a few weeks. He was looking forward to getting a chance to take things easy for a while and make sure that the strides they’d made together didn’t backslide.

  The cell phone that he’d left on the table buzzed and he picked it up. Miranda read the message along with him.

  Sitting up, she turned to look at him. “You want me to go to the station and see what Conor needs?”

  He pressed a kiss on her lips and sighed. “No. Why don’t you go home with Jun and take care of the furry and flightless. I’ll come with dinner after we’re done.”

  Jun got up and cleared his throat. “I’m going to go and take care of the check. You two… discuss whatever you want to discuss.” With a wink at his cousin, he walked off to the register.

  Trace reached out and took Miranda’s hand. “We’re going to get through this, darlin’. You and me, this isn’t just something for the short term. You believe that, right?”

  Her smile eased some of his worry. “I think we need a little relaxation after this is over,” she linked their fingers together. “Any chance you’d like to take a little weekend trip somewhere, just the two of us?”

  He grinned at her. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  Miranda shook her head. “You said you’re in charge until this is over,” she reminded him, “I’m talking about after this trial. I doubt either of us will ever just let the other take over.”

  “Truer words, love.” He sighed and lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a solid kiss on the back of it. “But I’m going to enjoy fighting to be on top.”

  She turned their hands and pressed a kiss on his fingers. “Winning between us just might be ending up on the bottom, but you won’t hear me complain.”

  Jun returned a moment later and the two slid out from the booth. The lovers hugged before Jun offered Trace his hand.

  “Stay safe out there, Trace.”

  Shrugging, Trace gestured toward the cousins. “Watch out for each other.”

  And then they parted ways.

  When they got back to her house she looked at the clock as she dropped her purse on the counter. “Well, that’s a half day I’ll never get back again.”

  Jun grabbed at her shoulders and he pressed his thumbs into the back of her shoulders and tried to rub at some of the tension. He made a couple of good digs into the tight muscles before he stepped back and held his hands up in surrender. “Wow, you are tense, Cuz. You should get your mom to tackle your shoulders. She’d have you relaxed in an hour or two.”

  Miranda blew out a breath with a fluttering sound from her lips. “But I’ll be wincing and crying until she’s done.”

  He laughed. “I remember you doing that when we were kids and she was braiding your hair. You were such a wuss!”

  “Wuss?” She reached out a hand and smacked his bicep. “If you’d had long hair she could have done it to you too!”

  “Ha!” He mimed combing long lengths of hair. “I would have been the ‘good’ nephew and she would tell you, ‘Look at Jun! He’s such a good boy!’”

  Miranda lifted a brow. “Look at Jun! He’s such a kiss ass!”

  “Takes one to-”

  He danced away to avoid her hand. “See? That’s the cuz I hate and tolerate! Go and change your clothes. We’ve got enclosures to clean, feed to… uh, feed, and all that other stuff.”

  She took one slow step away. “It would serve you right if I took my sweet time and let you do it all yourself.”

  When he held silent, she gave him a regal nod and then turned to head up the stairs with a spring in her step.

  “You take too long to change, and I’ll go home and you can do it all yourself.”

  She didn’t have to wonder if he meant it. She’d known him all of her life, so she practically ran up the stairs.

  Trace pulled out the chair at his desk and sat down. The stack of files that almost obliterated the blotter was bigger than it looked when he was still standing.

  Ronald Williams, someone a few classes before Miranda, stopped at the side of Trace’s desk as he was walking across the room. “Busy?”

  He heard the barely restrained laugh in the other man’s tone. “Well, I just got here but it looks like I’ve got enough paperwork to last me the next few months, hobbled to the desk. How are you?”

  There was a moment of hesitation in the younger man. “I was just about to leave and serve a warrant, but I’m glad you’re here. The man is someone you’ve dealt with before. I saw the records of your past interactions with him and I think you’ve got a connection.”

  Trace’s lips pressed into a thin line for a moment as he regarded the younger man. Ronald had never been someone that was hesitant to do his job. The fact that he was nervous enough to seek out his assistance spoke volumes.

  “Who are we talking about?”

  Ronald took his phone out of his inside coat pocket and tu
rned it on with a click. He had a picture already up on the screen. A booking photo.

  Turning the phone around so that Trace was looking at it right side up. “Edgar Fisk. That’s a name I wasn’t expecting to see.” He handed the phone back to Ronald and leaned back in his chair. “What’s got you worried about Mister Fisk?”

  A shadow crossed over the younger man’s face.

  “He’s back to poaching off his neighbor’s land,” he sighed, “but now he’s not bothering to try to hide it.”

  Trace nodded and then let out a sigh. “Somethin’ is makin’ him careless, or he doesn’t care. Either way it doesn’t sound like he’d go easy.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Picking up his phone he almost started to call Miranda but thought better of it after a moment. He sent her a text.

  Know you’re not expecting me back for a bit, but I’m headed out with Ron Williams to serve a warrant. If you need anything call.

  He thought about it for a moment and then added another text.

  Love you

  “You texting Miranda?”

  Trace swallowed and tried to give Ron a stern look, but it didn’t happen. “Got something smart to say, Williams?”

  The younger man held up his hands in surrender. “Smart enough to say that I’m glad you two are together. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever notice that you two were always circling each other.”

  Standing up from his chair, Trace grabbed for his hat and set it on his head. “I’d wonder why you were payin’ so much attention to the two of us.”

  They walked side by side toward the back door and Ron pushed on the bar to open it up. “It wasn’t just me. There’s a long running pool on the two of you, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

  “Why?” Trace started around the corner to the parking lot. “You planning on winning something?”

  “Planning?” Ron jogged to catch up with him, unlocking his truck with a remote. “I already won.”

  Trace stopped in his tracks. “Son of a-”

  “And if you were truthful about it,” Ron shrugged, “you did too.”

  Miranda had been on her way out of the house when the landline rang. It was strange enough that anyone used the number but given that it was her grandmother’s number they would still get a call every now and then from someone who hadn’t heard of her grandmother’s passing.

  Living for a good eighty years meant that she’d touched a lot of lives and touched them well enough that people would call because they remembered her for doing something truly amazing for them.

  And honestly, Miranda loved those calls. Hearing other people talking about her abuela brought up the best memories for her too.

  Picking up the old, olive green push-button phone she lifted it to her ear as she slipped on her Keds. “Hello, thanks for calling the Jimenez-”

  The call abruptly ended and she looked at the handset before setting it down.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  A loud crash turned her head. It sounded like the old aluminum trashcan that they had outside of the exam room.

  She stood stock still and listened for Jun to laugh or say something.

  When he didn’t, she pushed down a momentary spike of worry. “Jun? You okay?”

  She moved away from the phone and grabbed the front door handle and yanked it open. She started talking before she hit the top step. “You better be bleeding or- shit!”

  The door to the exam room was wide open and Jun’s feet were visible in the room.

  Fear gripped her. Did he fall? Trip? Have a heart attack? A thousand ideas rushed through her head only slightly faster than her racing heart.

  She rushed for the room and caught sight of Jun lying unconscious on the floor.

  “Jun!”

  Miranda was barely a step beyond the doorway when she was knocked to her knees.

  The pain that went through her legs was like lightning. Her kneecaps felt like they’d been shattered and even though she managed to get her hands out in front of her it didn’t stop the driving force of her fall and her head still scored a glancing blow on the floor.

  White hot pain momentarily held her attention until she realized that she’d landed within arm’s reach of her cousin. Reaching out, past the pain of her elbows, she closed her hand around Jun’s forearm. He was warm, alive… but he didn’t move. Didn’t react to her touch.

  She turned to look for their attackers and whether it was the blow to her head or the streaming sunlight but her vision was hellishly blurry. “What did you do to him?”

  “Shut up,” the voice was thick, adrenaline maybe, “Marco, shut the damn door.”

  Names.

  Fucking great.

  Names weren’t good.

  The hinges on the door hardly made a noise as new as they were and a frustrating moment later the door closed and she was locked in there with them.

  There was no use screaming. The next neighbor was a good sight away. A gunshot might gain someone’s interest, but she didn’t have her side arm. She couldn’t carry it in the courthouse and hadn’t removed it from the safe in her room when she’d changed her clothes.

  Fat lot of good it did her.

  Under her hand, Jun began to stir. She didn’t say anything but she let out a little sigh of relief.

  “You know why we’re here, right?”

  She wasn’t sure what she should do or say. The academy had covered how to handle different tactical situations, but flat on your face, surrounded by criminals?

  Nope, that wasn’t on the syllabus.

  “Whatever you want,” she gestured at the room, “take it, I’m not going to stop you.”

  It was the truth. Anything in the room could be replaced. The trick was to get them out of there so she could check on Jun, call an ambulance and let the LEOs handle it. She was out of law enforcement, she just wanted to heal.

  And that included her cousin.

  Someone grabbed her arm and rolled her over and into a table leg. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” Her vision was still a little off and her ears were ringing with noise. “What do you want?”

  “Drugs.” Someone stepped over Jun’s legs and crouched down beside her. “You’re a clinic. Where are the drugs?”

  “What we have is for animals,” she blurted it out, “but you can find it in the cabinet over there on the wall.”

  Most of the shadows in the room moved in the direction she’d pointed and before she could tell them that the keys were in the house, someone solved the problem, breaking through the frosted glass of the cabinet.

  A smattering of cheers faded a moment later and someone hauled her up to her feet. “Three bottles? That’s all you have in there?”

  She tried to shrug but it just tightened the collar of her shirt around the sides of her neck. “We’re a small rehab, until we get more donations or a grant, we’re running on a shoestring budget.”

  “Damn it, Junior, I can’t even read the name on this! How are we going to sell this crap, if we don’t know what it is?”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Miranda opened them again and tried to reason with them. “Here, let me look at it. I can tell you what it says.”

  She saw someone move toward her and she blinked her eyes over and over again to clear them, but things continued to go in and out of focus.

  “Here.” The bottle was shoved in her hand and she lifted it closer to her face as Jun’s soft moan reached her ears. She narrowed her eyes to try and focus on the bottle. “I think… I think it’s-”

  A hand cracked across her cheek and then the bottle flew from her hand and exploded off to her side.

  Tripping over her own foot she reached out for something to hold onto and slammed into the file cabinet.

  The tray on the top of the cabinet slid off. It, and its contents rained down on her head.

  Miranda was staggered. The noise in her ears only rang louder and louder as she struggled to find a place to l
and.

  Broken glass pricked and tore at her palm and as the voices rushed on and raised around her, her fingers came in contact with something sharp.

  But not glass.

  Plastic. Torn plastic.

  Sending up a prayer for her grandmother to watch over her and get her the hell out of this, Miranda laid her palm over the broken plastic band and squeezed her fingers as tight as she could to hold it between them.

  “We’re done wasting time, who knows when her man’s coming back. Tell Mack to bring the truck around. Pop, go get the rest of it.”

  She knew she only had moments and she wasn’t going to waste them. Sliding her heel from her Keds she dropped the bracelet into the shoe and forced her foot back in.

  “Come on.” She felt the fingers on the back of her neck and the fingers that grabbed her dug in deep enough that it stole her breath as he shoved her head down toward the floor. “Hands behind your back.”

  It wasn’t until she felt the plastic ties cut into her wrists that she let herself believe she was going to live.

  But when they grabbed her by her bindings and pulled her back to her feet she didn’t fight. She wasn’t in any position to do much damage anyway. Getting them away from Jun was the best she could do.

  And she knew that Trace would come back and he’d figure it out. He would.

  A foot connected with her calf and she almost went down again, but he held her up, laughing. “Remember me, puta?”

  Her tongue turned to lead in her mouth, but she nodded because she didn’t want to give him a reason to remind her. It was the hard edge of his voice that broke through her memory and the odd blur of her vision.

  “You took me down!” His hissed in her ear. “You made me look bad.”

  That feisty side of her wanted to bite back. She didn’t give him the drugs he stuffed in his shoe. But she wasn’t that much of a masochist.

  “And now, you’re going to be the one to give me back my reputation.”

  She felt her jaw lock up with frustration. “How am I going to do that?”