Justice for All by Radclyffe Read Free Book Online Page A

yet you said our plant inside City Hall was identified. That took a sophisticated cyberinvestigation.”
    Kratos waved a hand. “He was careless.”
    He was not about to admit his concern that the HPCU might be able to trace the man they’d had inside back to him. Besides, he was always careful to keep several layers of people between himself and culpability. If by some miracle the authorities were able to determine who had placed the spyware in the PPD computer systems, they would not come up with his name. But he doubted that was a possibility.
    Talia regarded him through narrowed eyes as the smoke curled in the air between them. “Tapping into computer files is different than actively sabotaging a police communications network. The government no longer takes cyberterrorism lightly.”
    “Of course,” Kratos said. “And your payment will reflect the risk.”
    “Three hundred thousand,” Talia said evenly. “Fifty percent to be wired immediately to my account.”
    Kratos nodded.
    “I need everything you can tell me about the principals. Can you be certain of your sources?”
    “My family came to this city almost a hundred years ago. Politicians and lawmen have always been our friends. Nothing has changed, it’s only more subtle.” Kratos handed her a piece of paper folded lengthwise and covered in single-spaced typing. “The names and background briefs.”
    Talia took the paper and slipped it into her purse. “Which one is my target?”
    “Her name is JT Sloan.”

    *

    The first thing Sloan saw when she stepped off the elevator into the loft was Michael curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace, a book on her lap and the firelight casting her face in a soft, warm glow. She wore a loose white shirt and silky black slacks, and she was barefoot, her legs drawn up beneath her. When she turned in Sloan’s direction and smiled, Sloan’s heart stutter-stepped in her chest. Michael was the calm center of her universe, solid ground in the surging seas of her unrest and barely contained anger. She didn’t deserve her, and she knew it.
    “Hi, baby,” Sloan said, her throat tight.
    Michael patted the couch beside her. “Come sit down and tell me about your day.”
    “Sorry I’m so late.”
    “You don’t have a curfew. Did you eat?”
    Sloan shook her head as she dropped onto the sofa next to Michael. When Michael put her book aside and shifted to lean against her, Sloan drew her close and kissed her. “Do potato chips count?”
    “I’m not answering that.” Michael stroked Sloan’s face. “There’s a plate with chicken and pasta in the kitchen. It should still be warm.”
    “How was your day?”
    “I asked you first,” Michael teased.
    “Routine.” Sloan rested her chin against the top of Michael’s head. Michael’s hair was fragrant, her body supple, her breath warm against Sloan’s throat. Sloan saw herself stretched out in a green glade in the warm sunshine, a breeze ruffling the leaves overhead and teasing over her sweat-damp skin. She caught her breath as Michael eased her T-shirt from her jeans and slid a hand underneath. The breeze carried a hint of distant thunder now and Sloan tensed.
    “Your days are never routine,” Michael murmured.
    “How was yours?”
    “Tiring but good.” Michael kissed the hollow of Sloan’s throat, then the side of her neck, then just below her ear. She laughed softly when Sloan shivered. “I had a nice talk with Sandy, and then I took a nap while I was waiting for you.”
    “That sounds…nice.” Sloan’s voice was strained. Michael, for all her sophisticated elegance, could seduce her with the barest touch of her fingers, a mere brush of her lips. Sloan bent to her will as a seedling bends to the sun, trembling and needy. She knew with absolute certainty that all her strength was a ruse, a handful of sand that would slip through her fingers and disappear on the wind without Michael by her side. “How are you feeling?”
    “I’m not tired