Veil of Justice, Shadows of Justice Book 3 Read online

  Who managed to breach their security? And how?

  This wasn’t the first time in recent months Kelly missed her former boss, Petra Neiman, but it was certainly the most important. The woman could pick up vibes from a crime scene and put authorities on the right track within minutes. She’d be invaluable about now, if only Kelly could risk making the contact.

  "You’ll need to help Mama get everyone resettled in a safer place."

  "What about the –"

  "That’s my worry now," Kelly cut her off. It wasn't safe to even whisper of the treasure entrusted to the family generations ago. "I’ll breathe easier once you’re all clear."

  "What of Daniel?"

  "He goes with you. He’s too young for what’s in store for me."

  Serena straightened her gaze hard on Kelly. "His grandfather would say otherwise."

  "His dead grandfather is blessed that his eldest grandson is still alive." Kelly tipped her face up to the painted sky. "Daniel will have to take his place soon enough. Let him grieve. Let him grow. Let him test his leadership by helping the family recover."

  "Until he walked through the door with you, I was sure they’d found him too," Serena admitted on a choking sob.

  Kelly had been just as certain of Daniel’s grim fate. It was why her return trip took an extra day and a detour past his boarding school in Scotland.

  She slid an arm around Serena and hugged her close. "Go back to the house. Help Mama get to the new place. Tell the school Daniel will be back next August."

  "But that's nearly a year, Cali."

  "I’m afraid it might take that long to settle things down. Whoever wants our secrets has tremendous resources, you do realize that?"

  Serena nodded.

  Kelly hated to voice her worst fears, but she needed someone to understand. Her strong, wonderful mother was grieving too hard, the wounds to her heart too raw to bear any more bad news.

  "This family has to move, has to hide. When they discover they’ve stolen a useless reproduction, they’ll be back."

  Serena’s breath caught. Her mouth dropped open, then snapped closed. Her fingers twisted together. "Re-reproduction?" she squeaked. "I didn’t know."

  Kelly smiled gently, drawing back from her sister-in-law. "You weren’t supposed to know. In fact, I'm not sure anyone is supposed to know." She sighed. "With Dad gone, I’ll never be sure if I made the discovery on my own, or if he let me find out."

  Why it mattered, she wasn't sure. Maybe clinging to the notion that he'd trusted her enough to let her see an edge of the truth was the balm she needed. Her father was dead. Did it matter if she'd outsmarted him? He could no longer contradict whatever she chose to believe, so why not choose to put all of it in a positive light?

  She could still recall the day perfectly. She'd followed her father to the caves, getting her first look into the central chamber, her first glimpse of the sacred map box on the altar. It pulled her, called her so that her name felt like a whisper under her skin and she eagerly relinquished her hiding place to answer.

  "Get back! Calisto, no!" Her father hooked her at the waist and dragged her back while her arms and eyes strained to reach the goal. The disappointment stamped on his face was as shocking as the hard rock at her back and the brutal sunlight in her eyes when he'd dumped her outside.

  "You mustn't ever go in uninvited again."

  "But, Daddy –"

  "Never!"

  His temper, so rarely seen, made her speechless. She gave up the fight, running instead. Years later, when he'd invited her back inside, she'd known the box to be false. There'd been no pull, no claim, and no desire.

  "All things work for the good," Serena repeated, bringing Kelly back to the present. "You're here. Daniel is here. The Guardians are not lost."

  Kelly struggled, wanting to agree if only to soothe Serena's worry. "When you put it that way, I guess so." If her father had only told her where the genuine map box was now hidden. "Take care of them, Serena. I’ll be in touch when it's safe."

  Kelly didn’t waste any more time with good-byes or backward glances. She moved forward, letting the dusty clay slide beneath her feet as she shuffled down and around the slope to the nearest cave entrance. With darkness falling, her eyes quickly adjusted to the deeper shadows inside. She moved across the open space and into an alcove to exchange her more colorful western clothing for the matte black pants and over tunic her father had required for those on duty.

  She knelt in prayer, seeking comfort and guidance one last time before taking the leap she knew was necessary. She closed away the sorrow and loss, and thought of the map box when it had been in its place of honor. Stepping to the empty altar, she placed her hands where the map box had been and filled her mind with memories of that day as a child. Remembering the call, she shut out everything else, listening only for the ancient relic. A whisper skimmed up her fingertips. It was only a sense, a nudge to go in one direction, but it was a start.

  She eased back, but instead of the soft silence of the cave, Kelly’s peace was shattered by Nathan’s frantic cry for help.

  * * *

  Nathan reached out again, desperate for any relief. She’d been his lifeline through it all – until now, when he needed her most. If he couldn’t find her soon, if he couldn’t escape this torment, his mind would snap from the pressure of solitary confinement.

  No windows. No sounds. Just the unrelenting, unending, God-forsaken dark. He’d learned the cell’s dimensions the hard way and the resulting aches from head to toe kept him in place.

  The damp stone cell was too short for him to stand erect, too narrow for him to sit with legs outstretched. He'd found a drain, smaller than his hand-span situated just off-center in the floor. There was a narrow slit at the top of the door they'd pushed him through. And a nozzle in the ceiling shot out a cold, hard spray of some sort of antiseptic cleanser in random intervals.

  They couldn’t have personalized hell any better for him.

  “My name is Nathan Burkhardt,” he muttered to whatever just scampered over his toe. “I am a man. I am human.”

  To prove it, he envisioned his life before this assignment. He revisited in graphic detail the desk in his office. He pictured the faces of his family. He reviewed past field ops and the men who’d had his back during some sketchy operations.

  Instead of helping, the memories only made his current hell worse. He felt the scream build in his throat and fought to keep it down. Kelly had been his only reprieve and she’d shut him out. He still didn’t understand how or why she’d done it.

  Hell, he didn’t understand how he’d landed in here. Aside from the fit he’d thrown at the gate, he hadn’t stepped out of line. They hadn’t added to his charges or his sentence – he’d poked around the clerk’s head to learn that much. But with every day in here, his madness grew and his control weakened and even short jaunts into small minds had become impossible.

  The slit opened, interrupting his thoughts with the joy of the only light in his stark world. He could almost hate the food packet that blocked that precious light as they pushed it through.

  With his mind, he pushed the curious rat away from his food, letting the thing squeak as it hovered in mid-air in the corner.

  "I’m Nathan Burkhardt," he said again, opening the packet. He’d barely put the first handful of cold rice into his mouth when the ceiling sprayer erupted and doused everything with antiseptic.

  Nathan had tried. Tried to hold on to his humanity, to remember what sane felt like. Wet, cold, and hungry he struggled to count the slashes he’d made on the wall. One for every increment he thought was a day.

  But he couldn’t know for sure.

  He'd scratched in one mark when the first food packet had arrived, assuming it was dinner. But another packet filled with cold rice had been pushed inside before he was hungry again. By the time the slit had opened for the third 'meal', he'd been starving. It was impossible to know the time. There was no schedule, no method or reason. It onl
y compounded the dreadful isolation.

  The reflexive scream built and he couldn’t stop it, the inhuman sound hurting his ears and scraping his throat raw.

  Another sudden short, cold spray from the ceiling was followed by a completely new sound emanating from the wall. Nathan ducked and curled into a ball, his only defense against the unknown threat. The air crackled and an electrical shock glanced off his arm. It burned his skin and his muscles seized. He continued to rage with all he had until the powers that dumped him here tired of trying to force him into silent submission.

  It was then that he heard her. Kelly. His lifeline.

  She was soft in his mind, a slow, sweet descant calming his heart rate, easing the terror.

  He grasped for her strength and let his mind fall into the comfort she offered.

  "Help me," he begged.

  * * *

  Kelly reeled, stumbling out of the altar room, back into the labyrinth, bumping against walls on the way. Nathan’s plea overwhelmed her senses. Her terrible grief couldn't compare with his vivid despair. His fears and pain poured into her, mixing with her own, and she struggled against the added guilt of shutting him out. No one should be made to suffer like Nathan.

  She could no longer rest in the rationale that he had a sister more than willing to aid him. She'd assumed Petra's many connections would help Nathan through this assignment, even rescue him if necessary. Instead, inexplicably, Nathan had reached out to her, back when she was Petra's assistant, since his very first week behind bars.

  She’d lied to her boss about the range and depth of her contact with Nathan. Then again, she’d been lying to everyone for years. It’s not like she had much choice. Revealing her true identity to anyone outside of the family was strictly forbidden. Keeping it from Nathan, a man capable of harvesting her mind for any information, had been a significant challenge.

  She hadn’t been foolish enough to believe she’d done anything to keep him out of her private thoughts or her secret life. That had been his courtesy and integrity. Using her pedestrian meditative techniques to cut him off when she was forced to return home had been her only way of ensuring her continued privacy. She knew being home brought her memories, emotions, and intentions too close to the surface for Nathan to politely ignore. She would have to tread very carefully.

  "Help me escape. I need out," he pleaded.

  Escape? Nathan had a stellar reputation for finishing what others wouldn’t start. What could possibly push him to quit this job? He’d been doing great, considering his assignment was to infiltrate a prison.

  She filled her mind with soothing thoughts, hoping to calm him enough to understand this drastic change.

  The darkness of the cave shifted and closed in on her and Kelly realized Nathan was sharing his world directly. She hesitated, knowing his desperation added a risk to their link, but she followed his lead. She couldn’t leave him like this.

  The stench hit her first. The cloying antiseptic didn’t quite mask the smell of fear and waste. Then the wary tension of his every muscle triggered sympathetic cramps in her body. She breathed deeply of the clean cave air, hoping the connection would allow him to experience her world, letting him have some small measure of relief.

  Whether it was the air, or just her enjoyment of it she didn’t know, but she felt him relax.

  "I need out," he repeated, sounding more like his normal, determined self.

  "Are you done?" She didn’t know what the mission was, just that he’d taken the rap for a murder he didn’t commit in order to flush out another criminal.

  "No."

  He couldn’t possibly want her to discourage him. He’d never walked away from a mission, not even on those rare occasions when the plan had shattered around him.

  "There’s no contact in here," he complained, trying to draw her closer.

  She resisted the pull of his words and his mind. Making them both crazy wouldn’t help. She didn't reply, hoping to discover more in the next words he chose.

  "I can’t take it, Kelly."

  "You can," she insisted. "You just have to hang in there."

  "No. The op’s offline. No contact inside or out. Help me, Kelly. Help me escape."

  She felt his anxiety cranking up again, but she was full up with her own troubles. Any other time she’d rush to his side, move heaven and earth to help him, but she didn’t even know where he was incarcerated.

  Just that fast the images came flooding in. He'd pounced on her only weak spot and suddenly she knew everything. Nathan showed her the prison's letterhead with the full address and the warden’s name. A map burst into her mind next, the city, the highway, the exit number. His inmate number and his sketchy plan followed.

  She gasped with the information overload, with what he proposed, but it was doable. Her mind immediately started sorting options and methods to deal with her personal agenda and get Nathan out of hell’s horrible grasp.

  "We can help each other," he pressed.

  A chill tickled her spine. How much did he know of her needs? Maybe he hadn't been as polite as she thought. If he could help, it gave her a partner with serious potential. If he recovered from this ordeal quickly enough.

  If. If. The world was full of too many ifs.

  "I’ll be fine the minute I’m out of here."

  She sighed. Serena was moving the family to safety. Their secret was isolated and, in reality, closer to Nathan’s location than hers.

  She was out of excuses and they both knew it.

  TWO

  You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war. Albert Einstein

  Dr. Leo Kristoff, former Midwest Regional Health Chairman, watched Simon, his favorite surrogate son, through the camera wired into the boy's quarters. The boy had served him well these many years and while he wanted to lay the current failure at Simon's feet, it wasn't really his fault.

  Kristoff had unveiled research that made manipulating life nearly as easy as manipulating truth, but he'd underestimated the skill growth level of those lucky people he'd created in his lab.

  That single mistake was the source of this setback and his simmering fury. He paced away from the monitors to the windows overlooking Lake Michigan. His reflection on the glass mocked him, challenged him to reason rather than reaction.

  He could not blame Simon for the loss of more than half of his private army. He could not blame Simon for the glaring media exposure and harsh public censure. He could not even blame Simon for bringing him a forgery.

  All of Kristoff's recent troubles rested squarely on the shoulders of one Petra Neiman Callahan and the irritating vigilante sorts with whom she associated. She was one of the brightest children he'd ever created in his lab. He'd had great plans for her and her brother Nathan. Plans she'd somehow managed to foil.

  He still wasn’t sure how she'd led him to the false prize. He'd followed research protocols and reliable information, only to have his strike team bring him forgeries of the priceless, ancient maps he needed.

  The insult festered like an open wound.

  Kristoff glanced back to the monitors, watching Simon move through his fitness regime with automaton efficiency. The boy was his only true ally now. Judge Albertson had been dispatched months ago by Petra's friends, making Simon's release from the justice system more expensive than necessary.

  Small details were becoming serious obstacles and he couldn't afford serious obstacles.

  Years ago, he'd thrown science and logic to the wind to barter with a goddess. Nin-Hur-Sag had promised unprecedented knowledge, success, and longevity for the small price of a few favors and eventually his soul – a soul he wasn't sure existed. He'd gotten used to life at the top of every food chain, but now it was crumbling. Payment was due. Though he held countless patents and awards, his inestimable prestige had taken a beating, the government had seized his assets, and his social network had dried up.

  He was in hiding for god's sake.

  He bristled at the iniquity of it all, but he
knew if he didn't deliver those maps and their secrets, he faced a very real eternity of incomprehensible horror. The goddess didn't renegotiate.

  It was far past time to regain the initiative. Kristoff pressed a button near the monitor. "Simon, report to me."

  * * *

  Kelly made her way back to the altar room, through the dim passages her feet and heart remembered so well. She'd never been troubled with claustrophobia because she imagined the earth embracing her rather than smothering her. It was a trick she'd picked up from her oldest brother. When the narrow channel opened into the main cavern just before the altar room, she forced herself to look beyond the signs of struggle and stains of death. Time was a luxury she couldn't spend erasing the remnants of the violence. Nathan needed her sooner rather than later.

  She dropped to her knees, head bowed, palms layered over her heart in the formal pose of supplication. This was her only hope for gaining her father's blessing for the risk she was about to take. A risk she would take for an outsider.

  She wished she could sense her father's will, the way he claimed to sense the will of God. He'd always been so committed to the mission handed down from father to son since the maps had been created. She prayed for an ounce of that dedication to carry her into what was surely a flawed and doomed plan.

  One woman against a high-security prison.

  Once more her thoughts scattered and stumbled. Too many ways to fail not just Nathan, but her family and the world, as well.

  She quieted her mind, meditating on what had been, then picturing the best possible future. It was a balancing act to open enough to restore her strength and still keep Nathan at bay. Soon she had the image she wanted imbedded firmly in her mind: The real maps safe in the ornate box, the detail work glowing under soft candle light, and the lock secure.