Justice for None: Texas Justice Book #1 Read Online Free PDF

and did a bowlegged shuffle across the tile, his hands hovering over a pair of imaginary pistols. “But be prepared! There’re rustlers riding the range!” He knew he looked ridiculous, but that was one of the perks of spending your days with a pair of toddlers; maturity was optional.
    Max eyed his father like he was an escapee from a mental ward, but Kyle got a kick out of it. He laughed and started throwing cloth blocks at his dad.
    That reminded Val. “Baseball gloves!” he said as he scooped up Max. He carted the boy over to the double-seated stroller and strapped him in. Kyle didn’t wait to be carried. He toddled over and tried to climb into the stroller on his own, ending up in the seat face first, chubby legs pedaling air.
    “That ain’t no way to treat a horse, pardner,” Val admonished as he flipped him over.
    Val checked the diaper bag for supplies. Plenty of ecologically sound cloth diapers that were a true pain in his ass, a few of the boys’ favorite toys, two sets of clean clothes in case one of them barfed, a six -pack of apple juice, and a handful of oatmeal bars. Ready to roll.
    “Wagons ho!” He trundled the boys down the hallway, zigzagging left and right to their squeals of laughter. “Detergent!” he said as he opened the front door. “You two,” he pointed a finger at each in turn, “remember detergent. Can you say detergent? De-Ter-Gent.”
    “Horses!” Max yelled. “Horses!”
    “Horse shit!” Kyle bellowed, spraying spit. “Horse-shit, douchebag!”
     
     

5
     
    “Hello, Victoria,” Laroy Hockley said as he stopped in front of her, giving her a smile, his blue eyes pinned on hers. Blue eyes that had once charmed the teenage Victoria right out of her boot-cut jeans. But the smile wasn’t reflected in his eyes; they retained a cool wariness that she understood completely. The last time they had been alone together, Victoria had broken Laroy’s nose for him. And he had deserved worse.
    “Laroy,” she said as she offered her hand, “You’re a long way from Houston.” Fifteen years ago, Laroy had left the Dallas Sheriff’s to take a job in the Harris County Sheriff’s Department, the County that bounded Houston and its suburbs. She had breathed a sigh of relief that day, though Houston hadn’t been nearly far enough away for her taste. She would have preferred Jupiter or Pluto.
    “I came back to the Dallas Sheriff’s last month. Sheriff Swisher made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he said. Laroy’s eyes shifted to Jack and his smile disappeared. His jaw stiffened and his eyes went hard.
    “Hello, Jack. Been a long time,” Laroy said like it hurt his teeth to be polite.
    “Hello Laroy,” Jack replied blandly, then looked pointedly at the dark haired cop.
    “This is my assistant, Sergeant Henry Erath,” Laroy said, hooking a thumb at the shorter man. “We’re with the Special Tactics Unit,” he added, and Victoria’s sense of unease deepened. The Special Tactics Unit was the Sheriff’s felony warrant squad, better known on the streets as the Scary Thugs Unit, a tag they had earned with riot batons and bullets. Blood in the gutters was their specialty. She had almost indicted four of them just a few months ago for the killing of a Confederate Syndicate member named Willy Henderson, the Confederate Syndicate’s road boss. In the end the indictment had been quashed due to lack of evidence, but it had been a close thing.
    “What can I help you with?” Jack asked, one eyebrow raised.
    Behind Laroy, four deputies had piled out of the cruisers. In their starched uniforms and highly-shined boots they looked like storm troopers. And their expressions matched their uniforms. They approached the crime scene, but stopped ten feet behind Laroy, their thumbs hooked in their gun belts, eyeing the DPD homicide cops with unveiled hostility.
    “It’s us that are going to help you,” Laroy said. “We’re going to take Abby Sutton off your hands.”
    “My