Chapter 24 Cole #2
My family. The thought settles somewhere deep, like a lock clicking into place.
The morning sun is wrong for what sits on the welcome mat.
My hand stops on the doorknob.
Deadly nightshade vines twisted into a wreath formation, the tiny purple blooms scattered through dark green leaves like drops of poison.
Black ribbon winds through the arrangement, holding the delicate vines in place.
A white card peeks out from between the leaves, protected by clear cellophane wrapping.
The breakfast I just ate turns to lead in my stomach.
They were here. While we slept. While I held her.
I force my hand off the knob and scan the street. Cars parked along the curb, windows in the houses across the way, rooflines where a spotter could position. Nothing obvious. Nothing that screams threat. But obvious isn't how professionals operate.
I crouch slowly, with one hand near my hip where the gun isn't because I came outside to grab a fucking cooler. I don't touch the flowers. I read the card through the plastic.
Justice delayed is justice denied. The clock is ticking.
The door opens behind me. Angelina on the threshold, the soft intake of breath when she sees my posture.
"Cole? What—"
She sees it then, the flowers and the black ribbon, and her face goes pale.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. Not yet.
"What is it?"
I stand, trying to put my body between her and the arrangement, but she's already seen.
"Get Chesca. Don't let her see this."
"Cole—"
"Now, Angelina."
Her eyes hold mine for a beat. Then she turns and disappears inside.
I pull out my phone and grip it hard enough to feel the case crack. Kade on speed dial. Two rings.
"Tanaka. What's going on?"
"Flowers. At her house. Delivered overnight."
His voice drops. "Same signature?"
"Belladonna. Black ribbon. Card says justice delayed is justice denied."
A pause. "Get them out. Bring them to the facility. I'll have everything ready when you arrive."
"Copy."
I hang up and turn back to the house.
Angelina stands in the doorway again with Chesca's hand gripped tight in hers. Chesca looks confused and worried, reading the tension in adults who've stopped pretending everything is fine.
"Cole? Are we still going to the park?"
The question lands somewhere behind my ribs. Her purple butterfly is clutched in her free hand, held carefully so she doesn't crush it.
I make myself breathe. Force my voice into something that sounds calm.
"Change of plans, Hime. We're going on an adventure."
The street sounds continue around us, birds and distant traffic, someone mowing their lawn three houses down, as if the world didn't just tilt.
Sloppy. You got comfortable. You let yourself believe this could be normal.
The guilt is a fist in my throat. The diplomat's daughter had eyes like Chesca's, dark and trusting, and I failed her too. Let my guard down. Let the wrong people get close.
Never again.
My hand stays loose at my side, but I'm already running calculations. How many people need to stop breathing before Angelina and Chesca are safe. However many it takes. The number doesn't matter.
"Cole?" Angelina's voice is steady, but I can hear the tremor underneath.
"Garage. Now. I'll grab what we need."
She nods once and pulls Chesca toward the garage door without arguing.
I follow long enough to see them into the armored SUV I switched out last week. Hit the remote lock once they're buckled in. The vehicle's reinforced with bulletproof glass and run-flat tires. They're safe inside while I move.
Back through the house. I take the stairs two at a time to grab my go bag from the guest room closet, then Aaron Bear from Angelina's bed and the custody papers from the nightstand. She'll want both.
Back down, I grab Angelina's purse from the counter and Chesca's backpack from the hook by the door. Final sweep to confirm windows locked and back door secured.
The flowers still sit on the front porch. Forensics will handle them.
I pull the garage door shut behind me. The SUV's engine is already running because Angelina started it without being asked. Smart. Practical. The woman thinks three steps ahead even when she's terrified.
I slide into the driver's seat. Angelina's buckled in beside me, hands clasped tight in her lap. In the rearview mirror, Chesca clutches Aaron Bear, some of the fear draining from her shoulders now that we're all together.
I hit the garage door opener.
The door grinds up too slowly. The street beyond looks normal with its parked cars and quiet houses and morning stillness, but normal is the mask that danger wears.
The awareness that kept me alive overseas is back, settling into my chest like an old friend. I'm betting their lives on instincts I haven't needed in years.
I pull out and scan the street as we pass. Left side clear, right side clear, rooflines empty. Doesn't mean they're not there. Just means they're good.
Angelina's hand finds mine on the gearshift. I squeeze once, then let go. I need both hands free.
Twenty minutes later, we're pulling into level B2 of the underground garage at CPG headquarters.
The concrete floor is slick with dampness and fluorescent lights buzz overhead. I cut the engine and the SUV's last rumbles bounce off the walls.
Xander's already waiting by the elevator bank with his arms crossed and shoulders squared in that ready-for-anything posture he never quite shakes. Then he sees us and something in his stance loosens, the hard edges rounding out the way they always do when there's a kid involved.
I get out and open Angelina's door first, then Chesca's. Aaron Bear dangles from her hand with his paws dragging against concrete.
Xander closes the distance.
"Hey, small human. Ready to crush me at Mario Kart again?"
Chesca's hand tightens on Aaron Bear. She looks up at me, uncertain in the harsh lighting.
I nod. Permission granted.
She shifts her weight. "You said you were practicing."
"I was. I'm still terrible." Xander holds out his hand, palm up, waiting rather than demanding.
She takes it.
"I'll take her up. Common room's ready with snacks, games, the works." Xander's voice is easy, but his eyes cut to mine with a message underneath. I've got her.
"Angelina stays with me."
Chesca's face falls. "Mamma's not coming?"
Angelina crouches to her level. "I need to talk to the grown-ups for a little bit, tesoro. Boring stuff. But I'll come find you as soon as we're done, okay?"
"Promise?"
"Ti prometto." Angelina kisses her forehead. "Be good for Xander."
"I'm always good."
"That's debatable." I crouch beside Angelina, my hand settling on Chesca's shoulder. "We'll be right downstairs. You need anything, you tell Xander."
"Even ice cream?"
"Nice try."
She grins, and some of the fear fades from her face. The resilience of children never stops surprising me, the way they can bounce back when adults pretend hard enough that everything's fine.
Xander leads her toward the elevator. She looks back once, twice, then the doors close and she's gone.
Kade materializes from the shadows near the stairwell. "This way."
We take a different elevator. Industrial. No buttons visible until Kade swipes a card. The panel illuminates with floor options: B3, B4, B5.
He presses B4.
As we descent the air changes to something recycled and filtered, the kind of sterile that comes from systems designed to scrub evidence.
The doors open on an industrial hallway. Exposed pipes overhead, concrete walls, everything designed for function over form.
Angelina's face stays neutral, but her eyes move across the reinforced doors, the biometric scanners, the camera following our movement with its red light blinking steady.
She doesn't ask. Not yet.
We pass server rooms humming behind reinforced glass. I press my thumb to a scanner without breaking stride. She files it away.
Kade stops at the final door. Swipes his card. The lock disengages with a heavy thunk.
"After you, Judge Castellano."
She steps through.
B4 is all industrial efficiency with banks of monitors flickering against reinforced concrete walls and operations displays projecting intel onto the central briefing table.
Kade moves to the main display, tablet in hand. Jax is slouched against the far wall, but his eyes are sharp, tracking. Remy's positioned near the door.
I brace my hands on the briefing table, needing something solid under my palms.
Crime scene photos load on the screen showing Angelina's porch, the flowers, the card.
Kade's voice cuts through. "Delivery timestamp estimated between 2 and 5 AM. No witnesses, no camera footage."
"I have cameras."
His eyes meet mine. "Checked. Forty-three seconds of footage showing a hooded figure with face covered. Walked straight up to the porch like they owned the place."
Forty-three seconds in the middle of the night, walking right up to my front door while we slept. While I held her
My fingers press hard against the table edge.
Jax shifts his weight. "Forensics on the card?"
"Same printer type as previous deliveries. No prints. They're careful."
Kade swipes to a new image showing another porch, another arrangement. "Judge Costa. Sacramento. Found this morning."
Ten judges now.
"The message said justice delayed." Angelina's voice comes quiet but steady. "That's—"
"Twelve days to deadline by the math." Kade swipes to a new screen showing timeline overlays, victim patterns, delivery dates. "But they're not waiting. The other deaths seem to be accelerating."
Twelve days.
"That's not all." Kade's tone drops. His fingers move across the tablet. New images load.
Chesca's school fills the screen. The parking lot. The main entrance. The playground where she runs at recess.
And Adrian. Captured in multiple shots from different angles on different days.
My vision tunnels. Blood pounds in my ears. I grip the table hard enough that the metal edge bites into my palms.