Tough Justice Series Box Set: Parts 1-8

“There has to be some kind of pattern we can uncover,” Mei said around a bite of food. “We need to figure out what connection to Lara might be used next.”

Nick evened his gaze at his partner.

“What’s your middle name?”

“I don’t have one,” she answered honestly.

“You don’t have a middle name?” Ty jumped in, a half smile pulling up his lips. “So you’re like Cher or Madonna.”

“They don’t have last names. I clearly have that,” she corrected, a little too harsh. His smile dropped. She had to remind herself that he was only trying to lighten the mood. She readjusted in her seat. “I guess for the first time in my life, I’m glad I never got that middle initial.”

“Don’t celebrate yet. If someone’s already gone through the trouble to kill those with your name, I doubt they’ll let the lack of middle name stop them,” Xander pointed out.

He was right.

“If it’s really Moretti ordering these hits to toy with you, maybe he’ll target women with names from when you were undercover,” Ty offered. “What was your cover name?”

Lara felt the hesitation behind her response. Saying the name had become an odd sensation. It represented a time in her life where everything had changed. Where she had been thrust into a world of black and white that had quickly turned gray. She moved the ice pack from her arm and set it on the tabletop.

“Eve Johannsen.” For whatever reason, she averted her gaze from Nick as she answered.

“So, what?” Xander cut in. “We’re supposed to warn all the Eves and all the Johannsens in New York City to be careful? To walk in pairs wherever they go?”

Victoria shook her head. “Even if we did decide to go that route, I’m afraid it would only lead to making them unnecessary targets. Plus, not to be that person, but we don’t even know if Moretti is behind these murders. The only connection we’ve found so far has been the MM stamp and—” she looked at Lara “—I don’t need to remind you that his syndicate ran far and wide. It could be someone else entirely pulling the strings.”

Lara didn’t want to, but she had to agree with that. However, if it was Moretti, she knew he’d only be interested in going after her real life.

The real Lara Grant.

“What’s the plan now?” Mei asked.

Lara adjusted the ice pack on her shoulder. She wasn’t sure what to say. They’d hit that proverbial wall again. One that they desperately needed to climb.

“Currently, there’s nothing we can do.” Victoria’s tone was calm, determined. “We’re waiting for the postmortem to be done on our victim, and the NYPD are doing their due diligence, running down Elizabeth’s friends and family. They’ve been told to let us know the second they come up with anything. So, for now—” she glanced at Lara’s shoulder before scanning the rest of the team “—take the night to rest.” Lara’s brows rose as she readied herself to protest. She needed to keep working. To keep moving. “An exhausted agent makes for a useless agent,” Victoria tacked on, an edge clear in her voice. She wasn’t giving them a suggestion. She was giving them a command.

No one protested, and soon the group dispersed. Lara lagged behind, close to her desk. She pictured Elizabeth Grant again. Was it fair that she should be allowed to relax while Elizabeth’s life had been snuffed out that day?

“Hey.” Nick came up beside her, keys twirling around his index finger. “I’m assuming you aren’t liking our latest assignment.”

Lara didn’t smile. “Not particularly.” She grabbed her bag and slipped her jacket on. Her shoulder still bothered her but not as much as taking a temporary hiatus did.

“I didn’t take you for someone who liked the term ‘rest.’” His lips quirked up in the corner. It made the attractive man even more so, but Lara wasn’t in the mood to banter.

“She was in the middle of trying on swimsuits,” Lara said. “Overpowered and strangled in a dressing room while trying on a pink bikini.”

Nick’s smirk turned down. His expression darkened.

“We’ll get them,” he said, voice low. “Whoever they are, whoever is behind this, we’ll get the sons of bitches.” Lara wanted to point out that the fact that they weren’t even sure who they were dealing with was already a step backwards that they couldn’t afford, but Nick spoke again. “But Victoria is right. Sometimes we need to regroup—to step back—or we might miss something that’s right in front of us.”

The way he said the last part caught Lara’s attention in a way that surprised her. Suddenly the space between them didn’t seem so expansive. She took a slight step backwards, dipping down to scoop up her keys.

“That may be true, but that still doesn’t mean I know how to rest. I probably couldn’t if I tried right now.”

“You mean after the chase today you aren’t the least bit tired?”

Lara shook her head. “I’m weirdly still amped up.”

Nick laughed.

“I know what you mean. Why don’t we grab a beer, and we can try out this whole ‘resting’ thing together?”

Lara raised her eyebrow. “If that’s a pickup line, I’ll have to tell you it’s a crappy one,” she said, smirking. However, the part of her that had stirred at the mention of “together” already had her answer.

Nick held up his hands to show his innocence. “Even though we’re new partners, sharing a beer or two is par for the course,” he answered reasonably. “Plus, if you don’t come I’ll be forced to drink alone.”

He turned, and she started to walk out with him.

She was still having problems trusting him—anyone—but to be successful in closing this case, she needed their partnership to work.

“Nick Delano isn’t a fan of the bar scene? Color me surprised,” she joked.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Agent Grant,” he shot back.

“Ditto,” she replied quietly.

* * *

Nick ordered two beers as soon as they sat down. The bar, nicknamed The Pit, was filled with what Lara was realizing must have been cops.

“That explains why this place is busy, and it’s not even five yet,” she commented after making the observation to Nick.

“What better way to rest than drink among your equally burdened brethren?” he said with an influx of sarcasm. “Not to mention, we get one hell of a discount.”

Nick got their beers and slid one to her. They clinked the bottles together, and both took long drinks.

“So, if you won’t tell me about your time as Eve Johannsen, then maybe you can tell me about Lara Grant?” He raised his eyebrow in perfect unison with his smirk. If Nick wanted her to open up, she’d definitely need the alcohol between her hands.

“What do you want to know? My favorite color?” she said, trying to make this work. The very attractive man across from her was broaching a subject that she rarely talked about.

Would she ever have a life—undercover or not—that didn’t make her cringe to openly discuss?

“Wow, that’s a pretty personal question,” he said, feigning offense. “I wasn’t going to ask something that serious until after you’d had a few.” He shrugged. “But since you brought it up...”

Lara followed by example and took a good drink off of the top. She didn’t always like the taste of beer, but right now it was welcomed.

“I like black,” she answered. “It’s simple, classic, chic.”

“Your favorite color is black,” he deadpanned.