Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) Read Online Free

high-risk operations.”
    “Like the CIA?”
    He didn’t answer, let her think what she wanted. There were worse things than being labeled a spook. Traitor came to mind.
    Sydney shook her head. “The CIA isn’t allowed to spy on American citizens inside the U.S. So you must be…FBI, right? Where’s your badge?” She eyeballed him. “And why exactly is the Federal Bureau of Intimidation stalking me?”
    The speech was in his head, ready to go, but all he could do when he looked in her pretty blue eyes—was that a hint of fear or anger clouding them to a stormy gray?—was tell her the gut truth. “Sydney, I need your help to stop a killer.”
     
    Sydney lowered the stapler, her mind reeling with all the ways this guy could be playing her. “A killer? What the hell are you talking about?”
    For a federal agent, his dark hair was a few inches too long, even curling on the ends. His eyes, brown as her coffee, were hard and testified to the fact he’d seen the rough side of life. And lived through it. She could relate.
    “Fresh Start,” he said. “The girls. We need to talk about what happens to those who leave here and end up in an escort ring catering to politicians and diplomats. Three of the girls are dead.”
    Her shoulders seized into knots. Dead? “They’re not girls. They’re women. And what’s this crap about an escort ring? We run a legit shelter.”
    Grey glanced out the window then back to Sydney. “Can we talk about this in your office?”
    This guy was plain crazy if he thought she’d take him into the shelter. Wearing that suit, even if he had skipped the tie, he had Fed written all over him and would send some of the more emotionally fragile women into a psychotic break.
    “We’ll talk here. Unless I need a lawyer. Then we don’t talk at all.”
    He shifted his weight, fingered the camera in his hands. “You’re not under arrest, just so we’re clear.”
    “We’re clear. But I’ve been screwed by enough men in my life to have learned when to call in reinforcements. Particularly when I drive through the alley behind this building every morning and I’m suddenly seeing a car I don’t recognize.”
    A Challenger that may or may not have been following me two nights ago. “You could easily be a disgruntled husband looking to take a nine iron to your wife’s skull. Now, either talk or I’m outta here.”
    Something changed in his eyes as he studied her, a slight smile touching his lips. “You always carry a stapler as a weapon?”
    And oh-my-god this guy was good. Total charmer. Then again, she was criminally bad at judging men. That gene had been passed on by her mother and, like her mother, she always got screwed.
    And not in a good way.
    “Start talking, Fed Boy.”
    He smirked. “How about we start with the gir— women . I’ll tell you what I know about them and you can fill in the blanks.”
    “Give me some names. If I know anything, I’ll tell you. But if I think this is going bad for me, we’re done.”
    The smirk stayed in place as if he knew the answer before he asked, “And why would our chat go bad for you?”
    Half of what she did for women at the shelter was illegal, but she wasn’t about to feel guilt. If getting women the hell out of Dodge saved their lives, she’d live with bending laws. But if this guy’s Challenger was the same one that was following her the other night, he knew her deal.
    Might as well lay it out there. She sighed. “If you’re any good at your job, you’ll have figured out that there are women who come into the shelter and don’t stay very long. I help them with that.”
    “With what exactly?”
    “I help them survive their asshole husbands and boyfriends who get off on using their fists to make a point.”
    He withdrew a set of photos from his jacket and held them in front of her face. Three women stared at her. “Are these women ones you helped survive? ”
    Syd studied the faces of Amanda, LaToya and Kaitlin and her throat