Tough Justice Series Box Set: Parts 1-8

What she needed to do was find an answer that made sense as to the three murders that had taken place. But that wasn’t happening tonight.

As she drove she realized she was rubbing her arm again, as if attempting to rub away the MM tattoo that had already been removed.

She frowned and placed her hand back on the steering wheel. Moretti had marked her once with the tattoo. What she needed to find out more than anything was if somehow, someway he had marked her again, this time as a traitor who deserved every bad thing his evil mind could come up with.

She was halfway to the house when her cell phone rang. She punched the button on her steering wheel to answer the call. “Special Agent Lara Grant,” she said.

“Ms. Grant, it’s Jerry, the doorman.”

Lara’s nerves instantly screamed in dreadful anticipation. Something had happened; otherwise he wouldn’t have called her. “Yes, Jerry,” she said.

“I just wanted to let you know that a package was delivered here for you a little while ago.”

“A package?” Her heartbeat accelerated to a frantic pace. “What kind of a package?”

“It looks like a present. Is it your birthday?”

“Jerry, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She murmured a goodbye and ended the call.

As she turned her car around to head back to her apartment building, she heard the resounding noise of the other shoe clattering to the floor, and she knew with a horrifying clarity that she’d been right...it wasn’t over yet.

CHAPTER TEN

It was just after nine when she parked her car in the lot and hurried toward her apartment building. The ride back here had seemed endless, and panic clawed up the back of her throat even as she told herself over and over again to keep calm.

She wasn’t expecting a package, and there was certainly nobody in her life to buy her a gift. The dark foreboding was back as she anticipated something bad about to rock her world yet again.

“Good evening, Ms. Grant,” Jerry said as he opened the door for her. “Since I knew you weren’t at home when the package arrived, I put it on a shelf in the storeroom. Would you like me to go get it for you?”

“Thanks, Jerry, but I’ll just grab it as I go up.” She was grateful that her voice didn’t betray any of the fear and anxiety that bubbled inside her.

“You can’t miss it. It’s wrapped in bright pink paper and has a big silver bow.”

“How did it arrive?” she asked.

“It was a young man on a bicycle,” Jerry replied. He frowned. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure what company he was from.”

“It’s fine, Jerry. Thanks.”

Lara headed for the storeroom, and her mind raced. A bright pink package with a big silver bow. Maybe Nick had sent her a present. Although it would be highly inappropriate, maybe it was some sort of apology gift for not telling her about the spelling of Lara’s name. But they’d already moved way past that.

The storeroom was located in the small lobby area. It was basically a shelved closet holding new lightbulbs and cleaning supplies and a variety of maintenance items.

She immediately spied the package. It was impossible to miss it. It was about the size of a shirt box, and the only thing on it was the huge silver bow and her name and address neatly printed on an address form in black ink. After putting on gloves, she tentatively picked it up. It wasn’t heavy, although something shifted around inside of the box.

She got into the elevator, and as she rode up to her apartment floor, her mind whirled. Maybe it wasn’t anything bad. Maybe she had a secret admirer? Maybe one of the other men on the team?

She immediately dismissed this idea. She’d noticed Xander eyeing Cass with obvious interest, and she was certain she wasn’t Ty’s type. He was too nice of a guy to be drawn to a woman like her.

She reached her apartment, unlocked the door and placed the package on her coffee table. She shrugged off her coat and hung it, then removed her gun, her holster and ID, all the while staring at the package.

She went to the minibar and poured herself a drink and then walked around the coffee table, eyeing the package with trepidation.

The wrapping paper didn’t appear unusual. It was neatly fastened with regular clear tape. She downed her drink, sat down on the sofa and pulled off the bow and set it aside.

She didn’t like surprises. She didn’t like secret birthday parties or unexpected gifts, and she definitely didn’t like mystery packages.

Her heartbeat quickened once again. She pulled the tape from one end and then ripped away the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box.

She hesitated a moment and then lifted the lid and peered inside. She frowned and pulled out a handful of photographs. Oh God...oh no. A familiar yellow house. David Minnow, his wife and little Emily sitting on the porch swing. Faye and Emily in the center of a blanket in the yard.

There were more, and each one was a heart-stopping punch to Lara’s gut. “No,” she whispered. “No. No,” she repeated as a frantic alarm rang in her heart and electrified every nerve in her body.

She shoved the box to the floor and dropped the photos in a jumble on top of the coffee table. She fumbled for her cell phone, her chest so tight she thought she might be on the verge of a heart attack.

Her first call was to Victoria. When she’d finished telling her boss what she had received, Victoria had only three words in response. “Call the contact,” she said.

Lara hung up, her fingers trembling with terror as she punched in the number for U.S. Marshal Peter Linden. Had she done this? Had her secret visits not been as secret as she had believed? Had she been followed? Oh God, no.

Guilt battled with fear, and by the time Linden answered his phone, she was nearly hysterical. “This is Special Agent Lara Grant. Code Red. I repeat, Code Red. He knows.”

* * * * *

Watched

Tyler Anne Snell

He’s got his eye on her...and won’t quit until she’s dead!

Special Agent Lara Grant is back in her enemy’s sights, but this time she’s not alone. She has a brand-new team and Lara knows she’ll need to trust them with her life. Starting now.

When a lead becomes a victim, Lara and her team are thrown. Lara put Moretti away for life—so how can a guy who is still in prison be pulling strings? There’s only one way to find out.

But when Lara comes face-to-face with the monster from her past, will she get answers? Or unleash hell?

Part 2 of 8 in the chilling, high-octane FBI thriller TOUGH JUSTICE from New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy and authors Tyler Anne Snell, Carol Ericson and Gail Barrett.

On Tyler Anne Snell:

“[A] well-plotted page-turner with great lead characters.”

—RT Book Reviews on Manhunt

TYLER ANNE SNELL writes and reads a little bit of everything but has a soft spot for thrillers, mysteries and sexual tension. When she isn’t writing or reading, she’s rewatching her favorite TV series or playing video games. The first book she finished in one sitting was a Harlequin Intrigue. It taught her to appreciate the power of a good book.

Tyler lives in Florida with her same-named husband and their mini lions.

Visit her: www.tylerannesnell.com.

For my husband, Tyler. You may have the same name as me, but your patience, love and enthusiasm far outshines mine. Your nonstop encouragement means the world to me. Just like you!

EPISODE TWO

Watched

Special Agent Lara Grant wanted a new start on a special task force dealing with untouchable cases. But their first case? Involves her. She’s now front and center confronting the sins of her past—and all roads point to Moretti. Her partner, Nick, wants to help, but each move they make, the killer is three steps ahead. What does it take to stop a monster? Lara is about to find out...

CHAPTER ONE

Lara’s back slammed against the wall.

Instead of tasting pain or fear, all she could taste was pleasure.

She moved against the man with a vigor she reserved for no one else. He was made up of flames and water. Pouring over every inch of her skin yet leaving nothing but heat in his wake.

His kiss was passion.

His touch was sensational.

He was all-consuming.

Lara crashed her mouth into his, begging for more as he spread her legs wide. She moaned against his lips, hungry for what would happen next.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, voice filled with grit. She was about to say the same of him when he thrust deep inside of her. All words left her mind.

All Lara Grant felt was absolute pleasure.

She matched his rhythm in the dark room with ease. Two dance partners familiar with all of the steps. They moved in tandem, never breaking from each other’s lips, while bringing both closer to climax. Hands in her hair, nails on his back, bare chests against each other, his hard length sliding in and out of her pleasure.

Andrew!

Lara’s eyes flew open, and she all but jumped out of her bed.

She was no longer in that room.

She was no longer with that man.

“No,” she yelled into her empty bedroom. Her chest heaved up and down. Sweat adhered her tank top to her skin. Ripples of pleasure still pulsed between her legs. “Oh God.”

Pure revulsion coursed through her, slowly replacing any gratification that the dream had made her feel. She closed her eyes tight, willing her body to focus on anything else.

But there he was, naked and waiting.

“No,” she repeated into the quiet. Her fists balled in the sheets, and she closed her eyes tight. She was at the brink of tears, while a storm of emotions raged within her racing heart.

But Lara Grant didn’t cry.

Not easily, at least.

“Pull it together.”

She took a deep breath, and the man behind her eyelids was replaced by the image of a box with pink wrapping paper and a silver bow. Its contents made her body move before she realized what she was doing. She opened her eyes and blinked several times, looking for her phone. Dialing an alarmingly familiar number, she ran her hand through her hair.

“It’s Grant,” she greeted when the man answered, not wasting any time. “They’re safe?”

The U.S. Marshal didn’t sigh in frustration or get angry at her insistence—he wasn’t that kind of man—but she did catch the weight of exhaustion that dragged down his response. It reminded her that she hadn’t been the only one who’d had a long night.

“Like I told you the last two times, yes, they’ve been moved,” Peter Linden answered. “And, no, once again, they weren’t followed.”

Lara exhaled, shaking slightly with relief.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know the location of the safe house? I gave you the phone number. I can give you the location, too.”

A stab of anguish broke through Lara’s temporary relief. She knew the answer she needed to give, but it was as far away as what she wanted to say as something could be.

The couple of times she’d visited the little yellow house, she’d used every safety precaution she’d been taught throughout her career or even picked up undercover. Rented cars, aliases, always checking her rearview for anything out of the ordinary. Not once did she suspect that someone had been watching her and the family.

Not even for a moment.

Lara’s fists balled again. She should have known better. People like Moretti had ways of finding out what they wanted to know, with or without bars in front of them. For the family’s safety, she shouldn’t know where they lived. She shouldn’t be able to find them.

“I’m sure.”

For now, anyway.

Lara didn’t try for small talk, and Peter didn’t expect her to either. They ended the call, and once again Lara was alone. The alarm on her phone was due to go off within the hour, but she knew she wouldn’t be getting any more sleep. She wouldn’t chance another encounter with the man she couldn’t forget.

Lara tried to push the entire thing out of her mind by taking a long shower and starting the day. The water—unlike the man—was cold. It shocked her system into a state of focus and determination. She had a job to do. She couldn’t afford any distractions.

Not when she was dealing with Moretti.

She dressed in a white blouse that tucked into a pair of tight, dark jeans and put on her holster beneath a jacket. Her ID wallet went into an inside jacket pocket, and her badge clipped to her belt, out of view—like her gun—unless she wanted it seen. Her thoughts slid to her partner as she looked herself over in the mirror. She didn’t need his approval of how she looked—she didn’t need anyone’s—but she found a small part of her would have liked the acknowledgement. It was an unnerving thought she didn’t look deeper into as she put on a pair of black ankle boots. They gave her an inch of height without sacrificing the comfort she’d need for tracking down leads all day.

Today was going to be the day they found a lead worth following. They had to put an end to this case and fast. The little yellow house stuck in her mind’s eye as she locked up her apartment and made her way downstairs.

They just had to finish it.

Jerry, the doorman, was already off of work, probably exhausted at having been extensively questioned about the package the night before. He’d given them nothing that could be used to find out the who, why or when. Because that would have been too easy. Now he was replaced by Ron, who worked the day shift. Ron knew all tenants by name, even hers, despite only being there for a short amount of time.

“Have a good day, Ms. Grant,” he said as she walked past. She smiled and paused.

“Thank you, Ron.” She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down her cell number. “Can you do me a huge favor and call me if anything or anyone comes in or asks for me?” He nodded and took the number. “It’s very, very important that you not open whatever package it may be and, if it’s someone asking for me, that you don’t tell them you’re calling me. Jerry already has the same instructions. Got it?”

Ron gave her a small salute in absolute sincerity. “You got it.”

She thanked him again and made her way to the subway. Her eyes searched the crowd of people dotting the sidewalks and the tops of the buildings. If she’d been followed to the family in the little yellow house, what made her think she wasn’t being followed now?

* * *

Nick and Cass were in the conference room when Lara got to 26 Federal Plaza. A box of bagels was sitting on the table. It made her stomach growl in greeting.

“You’re here early,” Nick said. His current conversation with Cass had his brows still drawn together in concentration. Lara suspected that he wasn’t even focused on what he’d just said as way of good morning. It made her instantly intrigued.

“Trouble sleeping,” she dismissed. “What’s up?”

“I found a new Dunst-related lead,” Cass answered. Nick handed Lara a sticky note with an address. “One of the crime scene techs found two separate receipts at Dunst’s apartment with the same address on it. I checked it out, and it’s a Laundromat that he apparently used to frequent.”

Lara raised her eyebrow.

“Okay...” She didn’t see the connection to a lead.

“That’s what I just said,” Nick added.

Cass let out a sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose before answering.

“Geez, guys, have more faith in me, okay?” she deadpanned. “That Laundromat is twenty minutes—on a good day—away from his apartment. To go there he’d have to hop two different buses, passing three other Laundromats. Including one a block away from his apartment.”

Lara and Nick’s eyes widened in unison.

“So why would our guy go that far out of his way?”

Cass snapped her fingers. “Looks like that’s what the two of you need to find out.” She started to leave. “And while you do that, I’ll continue searching through Dunst’s electronic life. Be careful.”

“We’ll try,” Nick said. He turned and pushed the bagel box over to Lara before pulling one out for himself. He wore a pair of jeans that looked as if they’d come straight out of a ’90s Levi’s ad. They were a faded navy and fit him nicely. Coupled with a gray shirt and his leather jacket, Nick Delano was the perfect cross between street and agent. “What do you think it’s all about?” he asked when they’d gotten into the car. Nick had taken to the driver’s side without question. That was fine by Lara. She’d have more freedom to eat her bagel.

“What? The Laundromat?” she asked, taking in a considerably larger bite than she’d meant to. Apparently she was hungrier than she’d thought. After receiving the box with the pictures, she hadn’t even thought about eating dinner the night before.

“Yeah. Why would a lowlife truck it that far away to do clothes? You think it’s a cover for something?”

Lara shrugged. “I can’t say until I see the place and the people who frequent it. All we can safely bet is that it isn’t human trafficking. Sean Dunst killed Tina Cole to save the little girl, remember?” Even as she said it, Lara squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable at the thought that, in his mind, Dunst had been merciful.

Nick nodded. “It could be a meeting place for whoever he was trying to work for.” That perked her up. “Which means, if this lead pans out, we could take down more than just one bad guy. Something I hear you’re good at.” He cast her a sly look. One that told her he was teasing her.

It pushed her earlier dream to the forefront of her mind. She tensed, trying to get away from the memory. Nick must have taken her silence as a sign that he’d overstepped. He changed the subject to the weather. It carried them to a handful of blocks lined with crumbling brick storefronts and the occasional run-down apartment complex. No high-rises here.

“Park there so we can scope the place before we get out,” Lara said when they were a block over from Dunst’s apparently favorite Laundromat, the Fluff-N-Fold. Nick pulled into an empty spot between a beat-up Buick and a rusted Honda. He cut the engine with a grunt.

“No wonder Dunst liked coming here.” He peered through the windshield at the Laundromat in the distance. “It’s just his style.”

They pushed out into the crisp morning air with the knowledge that all bystanders would pick up on the fact that they were law enforcement of some kind. It was simply inevitable. Even if they hadn’t been wearing jackets that were styled to hide their guns and badges, Lara knew they had the posture ingrained within them. One that she had taken pains to strip before going undercover.

It didn’t matter how good your cover story was, if your body language said a different thing.

Pedestrians walked up and down the sidewalks. Few gave them wary looks while fewer let their glance stick. Lara preferred it that way. She’d never valued lack of attention until she had been undercover.

“You ready for whatever we find?” Nick asked, moving his jacket a fraction to get better flexibility if he needed to pull his gun. His eyes caught on a few people leaving the Laundromat. They stopped at the curb while one pulled out a cigarette.

“Yeah.” She covertly unsnapped the strap from her holster. If she needed to pull her piece, it would be easy. The Laundromat might have had a slightly goofy name, but the fact remained that the Fluff-N-Fold had been interesting to Dunst.

And they had no idea why or what was behind its doors.

“Let’s go,” Nick said, picking up the pace.

They were a block away, moving closer to their target, while keeping their eyes on their surroundings for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. That’s when Lara really took in every detail of the two men who had exited the Laundromat moments before.

“Wait.” She grabbed Nick’s arm, stopping and turning him to face her. She angled her body so his partially hid her from plain view.

“What is it?”

Lara did a quick mental slideshow of faces from her past.

Recognition flared.

“There,” Lara said, voice dipping low. She nodded to the two men standing in front of the Laundromat. One had a cigarette between his lips while the other eyed a woman talking on the phone on the other side of the street. “I know them.”

Nick coolly turned his head for a better view, knowing not to be obvious. She knew he was cataloging each man’s details.

The one with the cigarette was the younger of the two. Short dreads, a thick brow, and spotty facial hair, he wore baggy dark jeans and a graphic tee with a cartoon woman in a tank top across the front. His body wasn’t lean but skinny. The man next to him was a different story. His stomach extended outward, barely contained by his own shirt. He wore a red beanie and dark, dark sunglasses. Between the two, Lara knew he was the more aggressive one.

“They were a part of the Moretti syndicate,” she explained. “Two low-level lookouts that came and went without making any real noise. Never gave their actual names, just cycled through a list of dumbass nicknames like ‘Beat’ and ‘Snoop.’”

“They weren’t rounded up with the rest, I see,” Nick commented.

She shook her head.

“No. When the bust went down at the Chicago warehouse Moretti was running, they were nowhere to be found.”

“You figure they’re still working for Moretti?”

Lara didn’t think on that too much. Once again she shook her head.

“If Moretti was a big fish, they were a small patch of dirt on the ocean floor. He barely used them when he was thriving. I doubt he’d reach out to them when he’s behind bars. But, that doesn’t mean they don’t know about our buddy Dunst.”

Nick’s lips quirked up into a sly smile. Lara couldn’t deny it was attractive.

“Then why don’t we go say hi?”

CHAPTER TWO

“You think they’ll recognize you?” Nick asked. Though his tone was easy she could tell his demeanor had shifted as they walked toward the men. He was getting ready for whatever might happen next. Whether or not the men ran or fought, which were both likely responses. She, too, rolled her shoulders back, gearing up.

“Which me?” she joked. “Undercover me or FBI agent caught on the news me?”

Nick snorted but didn’t have time to answer. Beanie lost interest in the woman across the street and turned back to his friend. He whispered something, and soon both men were looking their way. Dreads dropped his cigarette.

“Looks like they recognize you,” Nick said.

Lara felt her leg muscles tighten. They were about to take off, and her partner knew it. Normally she would have felt excited—ready for a chase, ready for the thrill—but now...the stakes were different. They were higher. This case wasn’t like the ones from her past. Each new move left her tense, each new development left her anxious. The two men and the chase they were about engage in gave her, in no way, any thrills. Being undercover for so long had shattered her self-confidence. Now was the time to get it back.

In unison the two men turned on their heels.

“I’ll take Dreads,” Lara said. “And you—”

A heavy pop pierced the air.

The man she’d just planned to chase tipped backwards and fell hard against the sidewalk.

Nick yelled something unintelligible and threw his weight into Lara, pushing her into the wall of the storefront they’d been passing. Another pop sliced through the air.

Lara watched as Beanie was shot right between the eyes.

“Fuck,” Nick roared, using the hand that didn’t have Lara’s shoulder in it to pull out his gun. Lara shrugged out of his protective hold and pulled her gun out and up, as well. She spun on her heel as Nick shouted something to the bystanders screaming on the street.

Lara wasn’t listening. Her focus had shifted to the once-again elusive sniper, following what she guessed to be his trajectory. Had he been following her?