Hollow Justice (Cowboy Justice Association Book 13)

  Hollow Justice

  The Cowboy Justice Association Book 13

  Olivia Jaymes

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  HOLLOW JUSTICE

  Copyright © 2020 by Olivia Jaymes

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Mornings in the Monroe household were often hectic as four people, one dog, and a cat named Charlie all descended on the kitchen at once, trying to get ready for the day ahead. There was breakfast, of course, and during the school year there would be lunches to pack, instruments for band, equipment for soccer practice, not to mention books and homework that had to be stuffed into overflowing backpacks.

  In the summer it was slightly less hectic, so they only had to pack lunches and make sure each child was covered in sunscreen from head to toe. Today the summer camp that the children attended was having a field day so Lizzie and Nate would come back dirty, sweaty, and exhausted.

  Jared loved the controlled chaos even when he hadn't yet had his first cup of coffee. He'd grown up in a house full of people, so this wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him. His wife Misty, on the other hand, was an only child of a single parent. No other relatives, either. Her home had been significantly quieter than his own, and less busy. He'd assured her several times that this was normal but more than once she'd doubted him.

  "Let's have two," Misty whispered into his ear as their daughter Lizzie and their son Nathaniel said goodbye to the dog before they left for summer day camp. "It'll be great. We can handle it. That's what you said. You said having two would be no more different than having one. You lied to me, Jared Monroe."

  She teased him about this on occasion. It was true that he'd been the first one to bring up having a second child, but she'd eagerly agreed, telling him that she'd been thinking about it as well. But he'd gladly say it was all his idea when they had a rough night or morning. Last night, Nate had a nightmare, so he'd ended up crawling into bed with them along with Stevie, their Golden Retriever.

  The canine was named "Stevie" because Nate had wanted to name it Captain America, but they'd vetoed that, so he'd started calling him "Steve" for "Steve Rogers." They'd tried explaining to Nate that "Steve" was actually a girl but he didn't care. Misty had somehow convinced him to change it to "Stevie" so when anyone questioned her about it she could say that the dog was named after Stevie Nicks, the singer from Fleetwood Mac.

  Although they had a California King bed, two adults, one child, and one dog took up every bit of space so neither he nor Misty had slept well last night. Nate and Stevie? They'd slept fine. Charlie the cat slept on a purple and gold throne in Lizzie's room, as befitting his station in the household.

  "I did lie," he agreed, taking another deep gulp of his coffee. He had a busy day at the office ahead and he needed the caffeine. "But I don't think you're that upset about it, to be truthful."

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief and he suddenly wished that they were alone, upstairs in their bedroom. His wife was absolutely drop dead gorgeous, even after all these years and two kids. He'd often tease her about having made a deal with the devil because she seriously didn't look a day older than when they'd married.

  Today she looked particularly fetching in an old, worn-out pair jeans that molded her luscious backside and a white tank top that clung to all the right places. His Misty wasn't a tall woman, instead petite and dainty, almost pixie-ish. She still had her long, pale blonde hair, and although he would have been fine if she'd cut it, he was secretly thrilled that she never had. If she'd told him that the only way she'd keep it was that he had to wash it every single day? He'd take that deal.

  He was on the wrong side of forty but still head over heels for his wife, like a teenager in love with his first crush. Luckily, he was pretty damn sure that she felt the same. Their marriage wasn't always easy, but it was well worth it.

  "I'm not all that upset," she admitted, stuffing her sunglasses and lip balm into her purse. She had to take the kids to camp and then run some errands. "Are you going to be late tonight? Should I cook or order in?"

  "I'll pick up dinner on my way home. And I won't be late," he promised, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her full pink lips. Lizzie and Nate made gagging noises in the background. They did that every time he and Misty showed any affection for each other. Which was quite a lot. "Italian, okay?"

  He could get a variety of dishes and they could all share.

  "Sounds perfect. Thanks for picking up dinner. I have a meeting with the gallery this morning and then I'm taking Charlie to the vet for his shots. You know how much he likes that."

  For the most part Charlie was as lazy and laid back as the day was long, but he didn't like the vet at all, hissing at him every single time.

  "He's going to hate us afterward."

  "What's this us stuff?" Misty groaned. "He's going to hate me because I was the one who took him. He'll love up on you tonight and give me the cold shoulder."

  "I'll take one for the team and tell him it was my idea."

  "Sure, that'll work." Misty slung her purse over her shoulder. "Okay, are you ready for camp? Lunches? Water bottles?"

  They went through this every day and yet at least once a week one of the kids would forget something that they desperately needed. Jared was sure that he didn't remember being like that but if his parents were alive, they'd probably tell him differently.

  That pang in the region of his heart. It still hurt to think about his father's passing, just six months ago. A heart attack had taken the family patriarch, but in many ways Gerald Monroe had been gone for a long time, his memories and dignity robbed by Alzheimer's. At least now his father was with his beloved wife. At the end, his father hadn't remembered Jared, but he'd talked about his spouse. He'd ask for her constantly. They'd had a life-long love affair to be envied.

  Following his family out to the garage, he helped load the kids and their backpacks into the minivan and then gave his beautiful wife another quick kiss.

  "You got something on your mind, handsome?" she whispered playfully in his ear. "Two kisses this morning? I usually only get one."

  "You can have as many as you like, and yes, I do have something on my mind. Meet you upstairs in bed about ten o'clock tonight? I'll bring the wine."

  She gave his hand a squeeze. "It's a date."

  He watched as Misty backed down the driveway and pulled out onto the road before he climbed into his own vehicle and headed for the office. He didn't go in every single day as a good portion of his work could be done at home, but he had a meeting with his partners, Logan Wright and Jason Anderson,
and he wanted to be in person for it.

  The office was mostly deserted when he showed up, but the coffee was already made and hot. Logan had probably done that, which meant that the brew would be industrial strength. He poured himself a cup and added plenty of sugar and cream, and then headed straight for Jason's office. Logan was sitting on the sofa against the wall drinking his coffee and munching on a cruller while Jason was kicked back in his big leather chair, cowboy boots up on the mahogany desktop. Like he owned the whole goddamn world instead of just a huge chunk of Montana.

  "There better be a chocolate frosted in that box of pastries," Jared warned, throwing himself down into an overstuffed chair. "That's the only thing that made it worth commuting into the office for today."

  Logan pushed the box closer to Jared. "There is because I knew you'd whine like a little girl if there wasn't."

  "Jesus, you two act like kids most of the time," Jason huffed, swinging his legs down to the floor. "Can you try to act over eighteen for at least a few minutes?"

  "I can try," Jared grunted, stuffing his face with the sugared confection. "But I make no promises."

  "Sometimes I feel sorry for Misty," Jason lamented with a chuckle. "That poor woman."

  Logan laughed and reached for another donut. "I feel sorry for all our wives. We're all a bunch of trouble, let's face it. They're saints to deal with us."

  Saint might be taking it a step too far, but their wives were wonderful and extremely patient people.

  Really, really patient.

  Jared had shit to do, although hanging out with his two best friends and eating pastries wouldn't be a bad way to spend the day. It just wouldn't be all that productive.

  "So what's on the agenda?" he asked Jason.

  "Budgets," his friend answered. "Upcoming vacation scheduling, and we also need to discuss the serials and stalkers unit."

  Discussing the budget was never fun but it had to be done. They were doing far better than they'd ever dreamed when they'd first opened the consulting firm. Back then it had simply been an idea, but they'd hadn't known if small towns would truly use their services. It might have all been a pipe dream that could have come crashing down in an ugly way.

  Years later, it was all different. Only a portion of their revenue came in from small towns utilizing their services. Some of it came from mid-sized cities and the rest came from private citizens hiring them to augment their local police in active and cold cases. They hadn't set out to service the public, but as the business had grown so had their client base.

  They made quick work of the budgeting discussion, agreeing to buy some new computer equipment and to also hire another administrative person to deal with the day to day hassle of running an office and keeping it stocked with coffee, pens, and toilet paper. The vacation schedule took slightly longer as they all three pulled out their calendars and marked off the days during the holidays that they wanted off.

  The task force discussion was even faster, as they all agreed that to be fully staffed it needed four, not two full-time permanent people. That meant that all of the candidates, currently working on a trial basis, were going to make the team after all. They'd reassess in six months to see if any additional resources would be needed.

  After the meeting, Jared went back into his office and closed the door so he could get some heads down work done. It was a few hours later when his coffee cup was empty and his shoulders were screaming to be stretched that he heard a knock at his door.

  "Come in."

  Tracy, their administrative assistant, poked her head in. "There's a man out here asking for you. Says he works for a law firm - Dwight, Michaels, and Baker. He says it's important."

  It was rare that anyone asked for Jared personally as he was mostly behind the scenes, dealing with the computer research, the business, and the staff. Jason and Logan did most of the public work, putting their faces out there while Jared stayed in the shadows. The arrangement suited him fine.

  "Send him in, I guess. But in about ten minutes remind me that I have an appointment, okay?"

  "Got it."

  Rising from his chair, Jared shook hands with the younger man that Tracy ushered in. He couldn't be older than thirty, his features rather boyish. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and carried a brown leather briefcase.

  "Jared Monroe? I'm Bradley Baker of Dwight, Michaels, and Baker. Thank you for seeing me."

  Jared made a mental note to research the law firm. Was Bradley a partner at this young age?

  "No problem, please have a seat." They both sat down, Baker balancing his briefcase on his knees. "What can I do for you?"

  "I won't take up much of your time," the other man assured him with a smile. "I'm actually here to drop off a letter for your wife, Misty Foster Monroe."

  Misty?

  "Is she being sued, Mr. Baker?"

  The man's brows flew up and then he vigorously shook his head. "No, not at all. I'm sorry. I guess I should start at the beginning."

  "That would be a good idea."

  "My firm represents a man that would like to reach out and contact your wife. This letter explains it in detail."

  Baker fumbled with the latch on the case and then pulled out a flat, white legal-sized envelope. Misty's name was written on it in block print letters.

  "A man? Who wants to contact my wife?" Jared didn't like the sound of this at all. He was about five seconds from showing Bradley Baker the door. "Who is this person and what does he want?"

  "Well...it's all in the letter."

  Baker held it out, a hopeful smile on his face. Jared cleared his throat and leaned forward, wanting his visitor to understand just how serious he was about anything to do with his spouse.

  "If you want me to take this envelope and give it to my wife, I'm going to need a little more to go on. I'll ask once again. Who is this person and what do they want with Misty?"

  Nervously fussing with his tie, Baker placed the envelope on the edge of the desk. "The person is Adam Reynolds."

  "Never heard of him."

  "He owns several large companies, including the Chipper Shopper chain."

  There was a Chipper Shopper store in pretty much every town west of the Mississippi.

  "What does Adam Reynolds want with my wife?"

  Misty's reputation as an artist had been growing these last several years. Perhaps he wanted to commission a piece of art from her. This was a strange way to go about it, however. Most people contacted her through her website or her agent.

  Baker coughed, his palm pressed against his chest.

  "Mr. Reynolds believes that your wife Misty is his daughter."

  Her father? Jared hadn't been expecting this.

  "Then I think I have a few more questions."

  2

  Misty wasn't a suspicious woman by nature, and her husband Jared had certainly never given her any reason to be one, either. But tonight something was different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but Jared was acting strangely.

  He'd barely paid attention to anyone this evening during dinner, his gaze off in the distance, his mind heaven knew where. He was the type that liked to dive deeply into his job and at times he could become distracted, almost obsessed, but she'd never minded. She could be that way as well.

  Nate had asked his dad twice so far if they were going to play catch outside in the backyard and Jared had yet to answer him. It looked like he wasn't even paying any attention. Finally, Nate grabbed onto the cuff of his father's button-down shirt and gave it a tug.

  "Dad, are you listening to me?"

  Jerking his head toward his son, Jared sighed. "No, I wasn't listening. I'm sorry. Please tell me again."

  Nate repeated his question and Jared responded affirmatively that they absolutely were going to play catch after dinner, but they wouldn't have too long as the sun would be down soon.

  Now that Jared was engaged with his children, Lizzie regaled him with all the things she'd done at camp that day and he listened intently
, nodding and replying in all the right places.

  His head isn't in the game, though. I can tell.

  Misty had learned many years ago that Jared wasn't a man that easily talked. Silence was his most comfortable state, although he'd loosened up quite a bit since their marriage. Still, it was hard to get him to give voice to his problems and concerns. His father Gerald Monroe had been a wonderful man whom Misty had adored, but unfortunately, he'd instilled in his sons that men suffered in silence. Any other way wasn't masculine.

  Her husband knew that wasn't true but long-ingrained habits were hard to break. He had something on his mind and hopefully, once they were alone, she could get him to talk about it.

  After dinner, he'd quickly helped her load the dishwasher and then went outside with both of the kids. Misty took the opportunity to soak in a hot bath for a few minutes before dressing in a pair of soft flannel pajama bottoms and t-shirt. It was Jared's night to get the kids ready for bed, but it was her turn to read to them. They were working through the Harry Potter series and they'd recently started book three, which was Misty's favorite.

  "You know what flannel does to me," Jared teased when they were finally alone in their bedroom. Lizzie and Nate had fallen asleep and with any luck would stay that way until morning. "It's not fair that you're so sexy."

  Misty would have argued that it was even more not fair that Jared looked better and better as he aged. What was it about a man with a touch of silver in his hair and some lines around his eyes? He still had women flirting with him everywhere he went. Jared being Jared, he rarely noticed.