Justice’s heart twisted. “No. But our families will be. Look, I just received some news moments before this catastrophe that I need to share with you. Not here, though. At my house.” He checked his watch. “Damn it! Where are Tawny and Miguel?”
“Here, Chief!” Miguel declared, breathless, Tawny on his heels. “We heard the news.”
“What do you need us to do?” Tawny asked.
Her steady demeanor in the face of this new threat impressed Justice. After all, Axel, Jr. almost succeeded in killing her. But her undercover work hardened her in ways Justice didn’t fully understand yet.
“I want all of you to clock out. Your shift is over. Meet me at my house. Bri, Finnigan, and Mallory are on their way. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I speak with Lieutenant Locke.”
When Justice was appointed Chief of Police almost four years ago, Locke resented him. But through cooperation and mutual respect, they moved past their differences and became friends. Justice supported Locke’s promotion to lieutenant, and now was the right time to offer him what he’d coveted all along. Though Justice preferred Brielle to take his place as Chief of Police, he didn’t want to breed any more discontent or ill will through blatant nepotism.
He found Lieutenant Locke engrossed in paperwork in his office and sat in an armchair across from him. Their eyes met.
“Shocking news, Chief. How can I help?”
“Agree to be interim Chief of Police until the election. Your name is the only one I’m submitting to the mayor.”
Locke raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Not your wife’s?”
Justice returned his smile. “No. I didn’t even ask her. She’s worked too hard for her position in SWAT.”
“And after the election? What happens then?”
“My future plans are undetermined, Locke.” Justice rose to his feet. “Take care of the men and women under your command while I’m gone.”
Locke nodded, and they shook hands. “I will. We’re going to miss you, Chief.”
“Same.”
Before Justice left the station, he called Pop’s Diner, newly renovated and revitalized, and ordered fifteen burgers, a basket of crinkle cut French fries, and two of Pop’s famous chocolate and banana crème pies. After the shooting deaths of Pop’s grandson and everyone’s favorite waitresses Jane and college student Lori Silva, Pop closed it and put it on the market. It was listed with Adrienne, Justice’s stepmother, and sat empty for over two years until she and Franklin bought it. They invested their money in creating a retro 1950s vibe inside and out but updated and modernized the kitchen. When they advertised for a cook with diner experience, Lou Toye, a beefy, African American, retired Navy man, applied for the job, and Adrienne and Franklin hired him on the spot. Everyone liked him, and at his behest called him “Big Lou.”
“Copy that, Chief. Grill’s hot, burgers are sizzlin’, and I’ll put those French fries in the deep fryer right before you pick ‘em up, so they’ll be hot and fresh. Give me twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, Big Lou. I’ll be there shortly.”
By the time Justice arrived home, everyone had already congregated in the airy living room. His energetic daughter Noelle launched herself at him and almost knocked the box of food from his arms.
“Daddy!”
Justice precariously balanced the box of food with one arm while trying to lift Noelle with the other. Miguel quickly rescued the burgers, fries, and pies and carried the box into the kitchen. The others followed, giving Justice and Brielle a moment of privacy. She wrapped her arms around him and Noelle and squeezed until their daughter cried, “Mama! No more hugs!” She pecked their cheeks with butterfly kisses and scampered into the kitchen after her big sister Rosie.
Justice claimed Brielle’s mouth in a long, slow kiss, tongues swirling together and lips melding, hearts pounding in rhythm.This never got old or stale, this passion between them. Brielle still had the power to fuel Justice’s desire like no other woman before her.
“Where’s my little man?” he asked when they broke apart.
“Asleep in the nursery.”
“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered in her ear, circling it with his tongue. She always shivered when he did that.
“And I want to be there with you.” She gazed at him through her unique amber eyes. “Looks like we’re back to the beginning, Beach Boy.”
Justice chuckled. “Looks like it, Tiger Eyes.”
Arm-in-arm they ambled toward the kitchen and joined their friends who were helping themselves to the burgers and fries and bottles of beer and water. With informal gatherings like this one, they usually congregated in the living room and didn’t mind sitting on the floor around the coffee table. No one mentioned the imminent threat looming over them but focused on fellowship. Rosie, who’d taught herself to play a flute and had joined Laguna Beach High School’s marching band, entertained them, accompanied by Noelle on her plastic recorder.
After much applause, Rosie declared, “Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week!” She took her little sister by the hand. “C’mon, Noelle. It’s time forusto do our homework and practice foroursolo in band competition on Saturday.”
“’kay.” Noelle hugged and kissed everyone and trotted obediently next to her sister.
