Robin Perini - Christmas Justice

Garrett pulled a small leather case from his pocket and unzipped it before grabbing a small screwdriver. He pulled his cell from his pocket and opened the phone. Quickly, he popped the battery and a small chip from the device and tossed it onto the coffee table before tucking his kit back in his jacket.

“You removed the GPS.” The truth hit her with the force of a fist to the chest. “If they’re tracing his calls, they know our location. That’s what I do for the CIA. Track locations from cell towers and satellites.”

“Then you know we can’t stay here.” Garrett stood.

Laurel swiped at the few tears that had escaped. “How long do we have?” She wasn’t stupid. She made her living analyzing data. A price came with being connected at all times. Cell phones, computers, tablets, internet—everyone left a trail. She rose from the couch, her body slightly chilled once she left the warmth of his. She shouldn’t get used to it. She knew better. “I’ll get Molly.”

At her turn, Garrett touched her arm, stopping her. “I’ll see you through this.”

Laurel paused. “I’ve driven clear across the country, and a phone call from Afghanistan is bringing whoever killed my family down on top of us...and you. How can it ever be all right? How can I ever keep Molly safe?”

The question repeated over and over in her mind. She knew better than most people how easy it was to track virtually anyone down. Biting her lip, she hurried into the bedroom and wrapped the blankets around Molly. There was no telling where they’d end up.

Molly squirmed a bit. “Aunt Laurel?” she whispered.

“Go back to sleep, Molly Magoo.”

“I had a bad, bad dream,” she said.

“I’ve got you,” Laurel whispered. “I won’t let you go.” She hugged Molly tight, humming a few bars of “Hush, Little Baby.” Thankfully, Molly snuggled closer, yawned and settled back to sleep.

Laurel exited the bedroom, hurrying to the garage door. It squeaked and she paused, praying Molly wouldn’t wake up.

Her niece didn’t budge. The dim garage light shone down. Garrett shoved a few last boxes into the back of his SUV and opened the back door, a tender expression when he looked at the sleeping girl in Laurel’s arms pushing aside the intensity of just a moment ago. “You better do it. Better if she sleeps.”

Laurel gently settled Molly onto the backseat, snapping the seat belt around her.

Garrett closed the door, his movements almost too quiet to hear. “Watch her. I’m going to wipe the house down.”

Laurel gave him a quick nod and he disappeared into the house. When he returned, he stuffed a microfiber cloth into his jacket pocket, hit the garage-door opener and slid into the SUV beside her. “Fingerprints would make it too easy for them,” he said. “You’re on file with the FBI because of your clearance, and so am I.”

With a quick turn of the key in the truck, the engine purred to life. He quickly doused the automatic lights and pulled out slowly.

After pressing the outside code, the garage door slid down. The house appeared vacant again.

Laurel looked through the windshield, right, then left, then behind. Tension shivered between them.

Garrett maneuvered onto the deserted street, still without headlights. Trouble had gone to sleep. He didn’t plan on anyone waking up as they left town.

He didn’t need lights to see anyway. The church auxiliary had gone and wrapped every lamppost and streetlight with garland and twinkle lights, ribbon and tinsel. With each gust of wind the decorations clattered against metal, leaving his neck tense and his hair standing on end.

He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. God, he hated Christmas. Hated the memories it evoked. But at least the bulbs lit their way through Trouble.

“Where are we going?” Laurel asked, still alert and searching the surrounding landscape for anything out of the ordinary.

“The middle of nowhere,” Garrett said. “Even though some consider Trouble just this side of nowhere.”

The vehicle left the city limits, only a black expanse in front of them. This part of West Texas could seem like the end of the world at night, the only light the moon and stars above.

“They’ll keep looking for us,” Laurel said. “They want us dead.”

“No question.” Garrett watched the rearview mirror, but no lights pierced the black Texas night. So far, so good.

Laurel shifted in her seat beside him, peering out the front windshield. “It’s so—”

“Dark?” Garrett finished.

She glanced over at him, her face barely visible from the light of the dashboard dials. “I’ve never seen the sky so black.”

“When I first moved here from the East Coast, I couldn’t get over how bright the stars shone or how dark the countryside could be.”

“You didn’t grow up around here?”

Garrett quirked a smile. “I was an army brat. I’m from everywhere, but we were never stationed in Texas.”

Laurel’s eyebrow quirked up. “I’d have taken you for a Texas cowboy.”

“I was for a while.”

But not anymore.

Garrett focused on the white lines of the road reflecting in the moonlight. No lights for miles around. The tension in his back eased a bit. They were alone.

“It’s spooky,” Laurel said, her voice barely a whisper. “No sign of civilization.”

“You lived on the East Coast all your life?” he asked.

“Dad’s job has always been headquartered in D.C. He’d leave town...” Her voice choked. “Someone has to know where he was,” she said.

Garrett had been mulling that over. James had been his sole contact since Garrett’s attack. He had no backup. No one he could trust.

“What about Fiona?” Laurel’s voice broke through the night.

“You know about her?”

“I’m not supposed to. Dad tried to keep his personal life separate, but a few years ago, we caught them at a restaurant. They looked really happy. I’m surprised he hasn’t married her. From what we figured out, he’s dated her for at least five years.”

“More like six,” Garrett said. “Though I’m surprised he took her out into public. They work together. That was a huge risk.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fiona might be the only person we can trust. She could get at his travel records.”

“She could get him backup.” Laurel flipped open a cell phone. “He needs help.”

“What are you doing?”

“It’s prepaid,” she said. “I’m not stupid.”

Garrett snatched the phone from her. “Not from here. I have equipment we can use to call her. It’s more secure. For both of us. We don’t want to place her in danger either.”

“Dad needs help now.”

“James either made it out of that situation alive and is hiding, or there’s nothing we can do to help him.”

A small gasp escaped from her. Garrett cursed himself, lowering his voice. “Look, I don’t mean to be callous, but your dad wanted you safe. That meant more to him than his life or he wouldn’t have called. We have to be careful, Laurel. We’re alone in this right now, and we have to choose our allies carefully. One slipup...” He let the words go unsaid.

One mistake and they’d finish the job on him and Laurel and Molly would vanish without a trace.

“I understand,” she said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t have to like it.” She twisted in her seat. “So, this place we’re going... How’d you get a secure system?”

“Your dad set it up while I was...incapacitated.”

Almost dead.

A small dirt road loomed at the right. Garrett passed it by, drove another ten miles, then pulled off onto a county road heading toward a mine.

“Are we getting close?”