Warrior Without A Cause. Nancy Gideon

into her background, unpleasant things started popping up. Things my father believed linked her to drug trafficking and an overseas pipeline.”

      “The same things your father was accused of.” He said it flatly, noncommittally.

      “Fancy that.”

      “Mmm.”

      “I think Martinez had him killed.”

      “You can think what you like but proving it is another thing. What did your father have on her?”

      Tessa rubbed her brow in frustration. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. Usually we worked on everything together, a team effort. But he wouldn’t confide in me on this one. He was putting together a solid case, was all he’d say.”

      “Whatever he had, they didn’t find it when they killed him or maybe you chased them off before they had the chance. If they had found it, they wouldn’t have come after you. The police never found any link between drugs and Martinez.”

      “They weren’t looking in that direction.” Her tone snapped like brittle ice. “They gave their report based on the testimony of some sniveling junkie looking to cut a deal. They took his word, a three-time loser, over my father’s. All the good he’d done, all the criminals he’d put away, and they took the word of a felon.”

      “Our system loves to condemn its own heroes,” was Jack’s philosophical response.

      “Yeah, well, it stinks. It really stinks. And now the real villain is still out there because there’s no one like my father willing to hunt him down.”

      “Yes there is.”

      Her. He meant her.

      “Like father, like daughter,” he summed up succinctly. “Isn’t that why you’re doing this? Because just like him, you couldn’t let it go, you couldn’t let them go unpunished?”

      Her reply was soft, humbled. “Something like that.”

      “Then don’t let them get away with it.”

      Fear unexpectedly stabbed through her insides, making her go all cold again. “I can still hear his voice, Jack.”

      Walk away while you can. My next visit won’t be quite so pleasant.

      “And you’re afraid of what he said.”

      She didn’t have to answer.

      Jack wanted to curse. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to crush her close in his arms and never let her go. Didn’t she realize the danger she was in if any of what she suspected was true? Why couldn’t she be like ninety-nine point nine percent of the populace and give up and let it go? Like father, like daughter. She’d sunk in her teeth and she wouldn’t release that bite, not ever. Not even after they struck her and threatened her. Not even when the system that was set up to protect her, failed her. Didn’t she know how easily professional men—men like him—could break her delicate bones?