Free Justice by Piper Davenport Page A

no DNA, and the way he knotted the victim’s hands together was left-handed.”
    “Yeah, not the same as two years ago.”
    “No.” Brock sipped his coffee.
    “Where’s he been?”
    “No clue,” Brock said. “He just disappeared off the radar for a time.”
    “What does Matt say?” Dallas asked.
    Matthew Quinn was the FBI assistant director, boss to a team of eight, including Brock and Dallas, and he also happened to be Jaxon’s brother.
    “That we need to be ready.” Brock shook his head. “No reports down this way yet, but he hit Seattle and then Olympia, so local PD and field offices are on alert.”
    “Fucking bastard.” Dallas scowled. “I hate to say this, but it would have been easier if it had been him. At least I’d know he was dead.”
    Brock frowned. “I know what you mean. Bailey’s not too happy with me right now. I won’t let her go anywhere alone.”
    “You’ve never really let her go anywhere alone,” Dallas pointed out.
    “True.” Brock sighed. “I think the girls should take that course Portland’s offering.”
    “The self-defense one?”
    “Yeah.”
    Dallas nodded. “It’s not a bad idea. Mase took one right after her attack, but it might be a good idea for her to brush up.”
    “I’ll talk to them,” Brock said.
    “Good luck.”
    “Oh, you’re gonna help.”
    Dallas grinned. “Am I?”
    “What are you two conspiring about?” Payton called.
    “I’m going in,” Brock said, and left the kitchen.
    “What are you two conspiring about?” Bailey asked, and raised her head for a kiss.
    Brock smiled, kissing her quickly before sitting beside her. “Portland’s offering self-defense classes starting next week and Dallas and I are teaching a couple of them.”
    “Ah, hold up there, brother,” Dallas said as he set waffles on the table. “You didn’t mention that.”
    “I didn’t? Weird.” Brock grinned. “Ah, Dal, Matt nominated us to teach a couple self-defense classes starting next week. Jaxon got roped in too.”
    “Sneaky bastard.”
    “Anyway, we want you three to take them. They’re looking for feedback on whether or not women think the classes are beneficial.”
    Dallas watched Macey closely. She seemed okay. Her posture didn’t change, her breathing stayed steady, but he couldn’t see her eyes since she was staring at her plate. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Mase, babe? What do you think?”
    She raised her head and smiled. “Will I get to beat you up?”
    “I can make that happen if it’s a requirement,” Brock promised.
    “I’m in then,” she said, and giggled.
    Dallas laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “Better make it count, baby.”
    She stroked his cheek. “You can bet on it.”
    Dallas sat beside her and settled his arm behind her chair, running his fingers through her tresses as she forked a waffle onto each of their plates. He couldn’t wipe the perma-grin from his face as the life-long friends sat around the dining room table and shot the breeze while enjoying breakfast. It had been a long time coming. Too long.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    L ONG AFTER BROCK and Bailey left, Dallas still couldn’t bring himself to leave. He hadn’t showered, hadn’t changed, but he didn’t care. He was enjoying the first day of normalcy he’d shared with Macey in two years.
    She walked from the kitchen into the living room where he was sitting, and handed him another cup of coffee. “Thanks for staying last night, Dal,” she said. “And for the waffles this morning.”
    He grinned as she sat beside him. “My pleasure, babe.”
    “Are you off today?”
    “Yep. Back to work on Tuesday.”
    “Me too,” she said.
    “How about I go home, shower, and take you to dinner tonight?”
    Her brilliant smile was all the answer he needed, but she nodded her head anyway.
    Dallas cupped her cheek. “Serratto?”
    “Yes, please!” she said, and grinned again.
    “Okay, baby. I’ll call and make reservations and swing back by at six, does that