Page 7 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)

THE PRESENT

Laguna Beach, California

Four days before Justice and his friends and fellow officers were scheduled to report for Secret Service duty, the news hit him.

“You were right, Justice,” Tex informed him in a brisk tone.

Justice dropped into his office chair at the station. “Jesus. Go on.”

“When I ran Julia Washburn’s DNA through the system, I got a hit. She’s a match for a pair of murder victims—Felipe and Julio Escobar, cousins. Without a doubt, Julio is her bio dad. And comparative samples from the Anderson siblings prove she’s related to them. Lola Anderson was her bio mom.”

“My God. So, what’s the history there?”

“Julio Escobar was the eldest son of General Jorge Escobar, currently the head of a drug cartel in Mexico. At some point, he defied his father and left the organization, presumably after he met Lola in the States. They married young and kept a low profile in Miami. Some of this is speculation, but I believe General Escobar sent Felipe to find them because it’s been proven that shots fired from his gun killed Julio.

I also believe that Lola killed Felipe and escaped Miami.

According to police reports, the gun used to kill Felipe Escobar was found in a trash can at a service station in the Everglades.

Ballistics confirmed that slugs removed from his body match the firearm.

Then, she popped up in Chicago as Lola Evans where she met Axel Anderson. ”

Justice frowned. “Julia Washburn is a DEA agent. How did this not come up? Didn’t anyone think to run her DNA?”

“If they did, they kept it quiet, given who adopted her.”

“Brendan McAdams, my brother-in-law?”

“Maybe. I couldn’t say for sure.”

“Do you think Barbara knows the truth?”

“No. And if Brendan knew and didn’t tell her, well, that’s an issue.”

“I can’t keep this from her.” Justice ran his hand through his hair. “If it gets out in the open, I can’t allow her to be blindsided.”

“I agree. Good luck, Justice. Keep me posted.”

“I will. Take care, Tex.”

While Justice was trying to wrap his brain around the information and how best to broach the subject with Barbara, he received an unexpected call from another of his brothers-in-law, Dr. Trey McAdams.

“Justice, where are you?”

“In my office at the station. Why?”

“Turn on the news.”

Justice used a remote and switched on the wall TV. He tuned into a local news station and…froze in shock. “I’ll call you back.”

A news anchor reported from her desk, “We’ve just been informed that Axis and Axalia Anderson, the teenaged children of Axel Anderson, a domestic terrorist killed in a raid on his Oregon compound almost four years ago, have escaped from Western State Mental Hospital in Staunton, Virginia.

Four nurses, two orderlies, and two patients have lost their lives, and at least half a dozen more are seriously injured.

The identities of the victims are being withheld until their families have been notified.

If you see Axis and Axalia Anderson, do not, I repeat, do not , engage with them.

They are considered highly dangerous. Call the police immediately.

We will keep you updated as soon as we receive further details about this breaking story. ”

Justice pressed MUTE and sat paralyzed in fear as he watched the chaotic scene unfolding in Virginia. He needed to move, to act, to do something , but he couldn’t. His brain disconnected from the rest of his body.

And then he heard footsteps pounding outside his office and familiar voices yelling his name. “Justice!”

“Chief McQuaid!”

Hutch and Luca burst through the door. He eyed these men whom he loved like brothers, and it was as if they were connectors. His brain fired up, and he leaped from his chair.

“Where are Tawny and Miguel?”

“On patrol together.”

“Get them back here right now. Hutch, call Owen and make sure he and Savannah are taking precautions. Check on Maverick Stone, too. I’ll call Brielle?—”

His cell phone buzzed. A small wave of relief washed through him. “Bri, thank God, you’re safe.”

“Finnigan is with me. We just heard the news. He’s frantic with worry. Tawny isn’t responding to his calls and text messages.”

“She’s on patrol with Miguel. Listen, Bri, you and Finnigan pick up Mallory and head home. The rest of us will meet you there.” Justice ended the call and spoke into his shoulder mike. “Dispatch, where the hell are Sergeant Finnigan and Officer Rivera?”

“Chief McQuaid, they just reported they’re at Four Corners.”

“Tell them to get back to the station. Pronto!” he roared.

Just then Jiena, Hutch’s wife of two months and Special-Agent-in-Charge of the FBI’s satellite office in Laguna Beach, joined them, her face pale and serious. She embraced Hutch and kissed him. “I came as soon as I got off the phone with the Director of the FBI. It’s all hands on deck.”

“What information were you given?” Justice demanded in a voice harsh with tension.

“The Director and Trey are furious by the carelessness and stupidity of the Andersons’ psychiatrist, Dr. Manfredi.

Trey warned him that they were clever and manipulative, that they were too far gone to be rehabilitated, but the doctor didn’t listen.

When Trey discovered the breech of protocol that led to this situation, he took Dr. Manfredi into custody.

If Trey has his way, he’ll never see the light of day again. ”

“And the Andersons?” Hutch asked. “Any sign of them?”

Jiena shook her head. “No. We suspect they’ve been in contact with underground members of their father’s ‘army’ who have aided them.”

“They could be anywhere, then,” Hutch declared. “With a major grudge against us. Me .”

“They would be foolish to come to Laguna Beach,” Luca commented, “with us on the alert for them. Their brother, Axel, Jr., took us by surprise, but not this time.”

“Not to mention none of you will even be here in a few days,” Jiena pointed out.

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 for us to do our homework and practice for our solo in band competition on Saturday.”

“’kay.” Noelle hugged and kissed everyone and trotted obediently next to her sister.

Rosie shot a last look at Justice over her shoulder. The fear on her face broke his heart.

He inhaled a deep breath and drew strength from Brielle’s hand resting on his leg. “Right before the news broke about the Andersons, I learned that Julia Washburn is the biological daughter of Lola Anderson and her first husband Julio Escobar.”

Silence. Then, a cacophony of disbelief.

Miguel whistled. “Julio Escobar. I’m familiar with that name. He was the son of General Jorge Escobar, one of the most feared and ruthless leaders of a Mexican drug cartel. We know that his cousin Felipe murdered him, but his wife Lola, suspected of shooting Felipe, is Lola Anderson ?”

“Appears so,” Justice confirmed.

“What an ironic twist of fate that the general’s granddaughter is a DEA agent with two insane half-siblings.”

“Which raises some questions and concerns. Do the Andersons know about Julia?—”

“And do the Washburns know the truth?” Hutch interrupted.

“And where have the Andersons gone?” Luca concluded.

Justice’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“You read my mind. Jiena, will you clear the way for us to work with the Director of the FBI given our history with the Andersons? We need someone there now to check out Western State Mental Hospital and speak with Julia and her parents. They need to know the truth, if they don’t already. ”

“Done,” Jiena declared as her fingers typed a message on her cell phone.

“I’ll do it, I’ll go,” Miguel volunteered in a quiet voice.

“We’ll get you on a plane to Virginia tonight. Jiena?”

She nodded. “Done.”