Retribution

By Alison Clifford

“They wouldn’t see it coming”
Believing the dangers of the past were behind them, FBI Assistant Director Warren Pearce and his wife Beth, savour the peace they have found.
But the secrets they had thought buried re-emerge to threaten a friend, and take control once more.
With the secret’s power to destroy their lives, they must keep their search for answers hidden from the FBI. Warren joins his friend Sam, an ex-FBI agent turned Private Investigator, to identify and stop the culprit before the promised acts of reprisal can take place.
As the threat intensifies against them all, Warren must uncover the source of evil, and halt it before the horrifying final act of Retribution.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alison Clifford
• Release date: Dec 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310073632

Alison Clifford

Alison began writing as a teenager, hiding away in the school library during lunch to work on her stories. None of these projects ever made it beyond the first few chapters as other interests took over.During her final year of high school, Alison joined the Australian Army Reserve and went on to serve in the Royal Australian Air Force.A fan of motorsport, Alison follows the V8 Supercars, Formula 1, and MotoGP, and loves to attend local motorsport events. As well as being a self-confessed stationery junkie, she also likes spending time at the local Botanical Gardens.Alison is married with three children and lives in Tasmania, Australia.

Book preview

Other books by Alison Clifford:

White Rose Series

Roses

Retribution

Deception

Bombshell

New London Books

Seeing Red

Secrets Within

Table of Contents

Beginning of Retribution

Other books by Alison Clifford

About Alison Clifford

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Chapter One

Warren and I have packed the dishwasher, so we’re heading out now, Sam called to his wife, Heather.

Okay love. We’ll see you boys when you get back. Heather turned to Beth, who was sitting beside her on the sofa. It’s so nice to have domesticated husbands. Cup of tea?

Yes thanks, and then I’d better get back. I’ve got a fair bit of reading to do this afternoon.

Don’t you ever stop working, Beth? Sam asked.

There’s too much new forensic research being done to stop. I don’t want to get left behind.

Don’t overdo it, Warren said, bending down to kiss Beth. Thanks for lunch, Heather.

You’re welcome. Enjoy the boxing, guys.

We will. Sam kissed Heather, and then headed out the door with Warren close behind.

Beth followed Heather into the kitchen. What plans do you have this afternoon?

Heather grimaced. I have to go shopping for a baby shower present.

Beth felt a stab of envy. Who’s pregnant?

One of the nurses at the hospital is expecting her third child.

Lucky for some.

Are you and Warren planning on having kids?

No.

No? Warren’s not too old. Heather took a mouthful of her coffee. To Beth it was like someone poking at a bruise in her heart. Sam and I wanted kids, but lucked out.

Beth sighed. I’ve lucked out too. She looked at her friend. I was told I can’t have children. Something about a malformed uterus and blocked fallopian tubes.

Beth, they have surgery for that.

So I was told. I was also told that surgery might not work, or could do more damage.

You need a second opinion.

Beth shook her head sadly. I’ve had a second opinion. Not long after I arrived in the States from Australia, I saw another doctor in case they knew of something else that could be done. She shrugged. They said the same as the first doctor. I’ll be all right. Warren’s not that keen on having a family, so I guess it’s just as well.

Heather moved closer and put an arm around Beth’s shoulders. I know how you feel. If you ever need to talk…

Thanks Heather. Like I said, I’ll be fine.

* * * *

Warren turned to Sam as they drove away from their apartment block. Okay Sam, what’s on your mind?

What do you mean?

Warren smiled. That innocent look doesn’t work on me buddy, and we’re going the wrong way if we heading to the club to watch the boxing. You’re up to something. Give.

For once you’re right.

For once?

Even you get things right every now and then.

Warren glared at Sam. If you want my help then you need to be a bit nicer.

Sam grinned. Okay. I need to check a business premises before a formal visit tomorrow. Sam had started a security consulting business after retiring from the FBI, where the two men had met as recruits twenty-five years ago.

Why?

I want to check something.

Is that normal protocol?

In this case it is. You know I can’t talk specifics - client confidentiality.

Warren eyed his friend, his suspicions growing. But you want me to come along.

You just happen to be here, and it will be faster with two sets of eyes.

I’m not buying that. Tell me what’s going on, Sam.

Sam grinned again. Okay, you got me. I’ve expanded the business.

To what?

I have a Private Investigator License now.

Warren laughed. A PI license. Of course you do. I thought you’d find security consulting boring. Is this what the check this afternoon is about?

It is.

What does Heather think of the expansion? Warren saw the sheepish smile. She doesn’t know, does she?

Not yet. Sam glanced at him, his brows raised over sparkling eyes. And you’re right, it was too boring only doing security consults. This is much more fun.

And dangerous.

I vet my clients carefully, trust me.

No, I was referring to Heather. She’s going to kill you. Warren laughed. Can I be there when you tell her?

* * * *

Sam parked his car in a quiet street near his client’s business. They approached on foot and circled the fenced buildings and compound, noting security measures and any activity on the site. Warren was reassured by the apparent respectability of the business - Sam seemed to have things well in hand. They were in deep discussion when they once again came within sight of Sam’s car. Two men were beside it, scratching the paintwork with keys.

Instinct took over. Sam and Warren sprinted for the men. One looked up, shouting to his friend, and they took off. Warren shot his arm out, pointing towards one of the men as a signal for Sam, and then racing after the other. They closed the gap, Warren lunging as they reached the corner of the street, his fist grasping the man’s jacket. The man spun in Warren’s grip, lashing out and punching him before he could duck. Warren hung onto the coat and retaliated, hitting the man’s chin. They both stumbled, Warren keeping a grim hold of the jacket. He tried to grasp the man’s other hand, but the man flung it out, striking Warren and unbalancing him. The man twisted and freed his arms, the jacket sliding off. Then he was gone before Warren could regain his balance and stop him, leaving the jacket in Warren’s grasp. Warren watched the man run away, memorizing his appearance. He glanced over to his left where Sam leaned against a garden fence, his top lip and left eyebrow both bleeding.

You all right? he asked.

Sam touched his bleeding top lip and nodded. He walked over to Warren. You?

Yeah. Warren felt his jaw where the punch had landed. He handed the jacket to Sam. Check the pockets, see if there’s any ID.

Sam went through the jacket, looking for any information about the owner. Nothing. Not a thing. He examined the collar and inner lining. No maker’s labels either. Not much help.

Sorry. I should have gone for his wallet.

Yeah. Would have been more helpful, Sam replied, grinning as he tossed the jacket back to Warren. Better luck next time.

Warren’s fingers ran over the rising lump on his jaw. How are we going to explain this to the girls? They don’t know about you being a PI, and we told them we were going to watch the boxing.

It’s simple, Sam said. We don’t tell them anything.

Warren looked at his friend as if he’d gone mad; indeed it crossed his mind Sam had lost it.

I’m not going tell my wife why I have a nice shiny bruise on my jaw, he said. Beth will accept that; no problem. And your wife, who is a doctor, won’t have an issue with your split lip and eyebrow. Not to mention the lovely keying job they did on your car.

Sam bit his bottom lip to stop a smile. Yeah, you have a point.

We’re going to have to tell them something.

Sam looked at him for a moment, opened his mouth to talk and then closed it again. Warren waited for the plan, but nothing came.

We’re in trouble, Sam stated, and then burst out laughing.

Warren shook his head as a smile grew, his shoulders shaking as he joined Sam, laughing at their predicament.

Sam and Warren made their way back to Sam’s car. Sam surveyed the damage to the paintwork, the scratches from the keys swirling and crisscrossing the duco as if a drunken spider had ice-skated across it.

They’ve done every panel but the roof, he concluded. The bastards!

Do you think it’s related to your case with the business? Warren asked as he stood back, considering the scratched car. The gloom of the late fall afternoon emphasized the pattern now adorning the paintwork; lighter, almost grey marks on the blue duco.

I wouldn’t think so, Sam said as he slowly circled his car again. As far as I’m aware the employees have no idea I’m involved in investigating the business’s problems. He pulled out his cell phone. I’d better call the police. The insurance company will want a report number no doubt.

Warren looked up and down the street they stood in while Sam made his calls. He hoped Sam knew what he was doing with the investigation side of his business. Unlike the FBI, he didn’t have any backup if things went wrong. Sam had all the skills and knowledge he needed, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. A lack of support in a difficult situation could lead to serious trouble; more than one man could handle.

You need to be careful Sam, he said as Sam finished his calls. I don’t want to have to find someone else to beat at chess.

Oh, very funny, Sam answered with a grin. Don’t worry about me; I’ve had some lessons from Aden and Sarah. You know their self-defence skills are the best in the FBI. Handy friends to have.

Then what happened back there? Warren asked, nodding in the direction the vandals had taken.

You got in the way…again, Sam answered, still smiling. He touched his lip gingerly as he looked at the scratches covering his car. I’m not going to be able to hide my PI license from Heather any more, am I?

The glum note in Sam’s voice made Warren laugh again. No. Time to come clean, he said. "But it was fun, wasn’t it?

Chapter Two

Beth was working at her desk when Warren arrived home.

Hello beautiful, Warren said, smiling at her. He took her into his arms, holding her close, as he always did.

Hello yourself, she responded.

I’ll go and make you a cup of tea, he said after a moment, and made to move away.

Hang on a second. Beth stared at him, her attention fixed on his jaw. What’s that on your face? She reached up and touched the bruise. I thought you were watching the boxing, not taking part.

We didn’t end up going to the match, he replied. I helped Sam out with his work. He wanted to check out a business he will be dealing with next week.

Beth frowned at him. What were you doing that for? I didn’t realize security consulting involved weekend visits to businesses, and it looks like someone punched you.

Someone did, he admitted. We found someone keying Sam’s car and chased them. There was a bit of a fight, but they ran away before we could stop them.

Beth sighed. I guess you had to do something, but I hope you’ll be careful. Beth stopped. Listen to me. What am I doing asking you to be careful? It’s never been like you to sit back and watch when something is happening. I guess I just want you to come home in one piece.

I’ll be as careful as I can, he reassured. I don’t want to get hurt either. You are right though; it’s not in my nature to stand back and watch. It wasn’t Sam’s nature either. And it wasn’t related to security consulting. Sam has a PI license now. He’s been doing investigations, and the visit was related to a case he’s working on.

He waited, expecting Beth to be upset. He was wrong.

Beth sighed and gave him a wry smile. She pulled away from his arms, and picked up her bag, took out her purse and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill. Warren watched her actions, puzzled as to why she needed the money.

I’ll be right back, she said, turning for the door.

Before she could grab the handle, someone pounded from outside.

Open up Beth, they heard Heather’s voice, muffled through the door. You owe me.

Warren watched in disbelief as Beth opened the door to Heather, handing her the money.

I honestly thought it would take another month or two, Beth said, shrugging.

Sam has way too much energy; he stagnates if he sits down for too long, Heather responded as she tucked the money into her jeans pocket, smiling with satisfaction.

Wait a minute, Warren interrupted. Did you two have a bet on Sam getting his PI license?

Heather snorted. Of course we did. We’re not stupid. It was bound to happen sooner or later; we just weren’t sure exactly when he would do it. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.

Warren smiled, relieved. He thought he’d be in real trouble when you found out.

The girls looked at each other and started laughing.

I would have given almost anything to see Sam trying to work out how he was going to tell Heather, Beth managed, gasping for breath, causing Heather to double over with laughter.

Warren glared at them. It’s not that funny.

Yes, it is, Beth answered. She walked over to him and slid her arms around him, hugging him.

Sam walked through the door behind Heather, shutting it with a bang.

Why did you disappear…? he started to say to Heather, breaking off when he saw the grins on the girls’ faces. What’s going on? he asked Warren.

They had a bet on when - that’s when, not if – you’d become a PI, Warren informed him.

Sam swung around to his wife, surprise on his face. Really?

Heather nodded, her shoulders shaking with laughter again.

Did you win? Sam asked her.

Again, Heather nodded.

Well done! Sam said, taking his wife in his arms. Does that mean I’m not in trouble?

You’re always in trouble Sam, Beth said, causing Heather to laugh again.

Warren couldn’t help but laugh at seeing the hurt look Sam had put on at Beth’s comment. He felt blessed with his beautiful wife, his good friends, and a job he loved. Everyone was happy; everyone was content. He hoped it stayed that way.

Life is never that simple.

X

It had been a lucky find and a secret well kept.

Many fascinating things turned up at crime scenes. Things too fascinating to let pass by. Nothing serious, of course. Anything that would help solve a crime and convict a felon was left with the rest of the evidence. Not everything was needed though, and it was the small, personal things that were of most interest to a collector.

The USB had been gathered with the rest of the evidence. It was such a small thing, but personal to the man who had been shot and killed by the FBI in an operation to rescue an abducted woman. They had all of the evidence they needed to prove the man’s guilt, so there had been no need leave to the USB in the evidence box.

The miracle was what the USB contained. The files were protected by a password, but a bit of patience unlocked them.

They were dynamite.

The files detailed a secret organization that had operated within the ranks of the FBI. Influence over investigations, power over people. The secret passion, the desire to control those who thought they controlled you. The organization no longer existed. The leader had been a fascinating man. His plans for control truly visionary. The means to follow in his footsteps, to feel the thrill of control, too tempting to ignore.

It took a long time to access the files, and even longer to decide what to do with them. After almost a year’s research and careful planning, everything was finally in place and ready to go.

The FBI were suspicious. They would come knocking. It wouldn’t be long before they discovered items had disappeared, and they would work out who was responsible without too much trouble.

Resignation had been the fast way out. It was time to put the plans into action.

It was all mapped out to the tiniest detail: the demands that would be made, the threats to be used; the victims. Everything.

The knowledge on the USB would change things in the FBI. The name of the perfect tool for the job was contained in its files. Control that person, and then enjoy the thrill of power.

Chapter Three

Beth walked through the sliding doors of the private laboratory where she worked as a forensic botanist and researcher. Splitting her time between the private lab, and assisting the FBI on her days off, kept her on her toes, but she relished the challenge. As Beth walked across the lobby, one of the lab technicians, Meghan, glanced up from the mail she was reading.

Hi Beth, how are you? How did you go with the FBI yesterday?

Fine thanks Meghan. Added my buck’s worth to the forensic evidence they had already gathered. Any mail for me?

Yeah, here you go. She passed several letters to Beth. The new guy started last Thursday. His name is Paul, Paul Fielding. Meghan stopped, her expression bland.

Do I detect dislike? Beth asked.

Meghan shrugged. I’m not impressed by him.

That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? He’s been here a few days and you’ve already passed judgement.

Meghan crossed her arms. It was easy to do, and I don’t think I’m being harsh.

Really? Perhaps he’s shy.

I wouldn’t say that, Beth, but I’ll let you decide.

Beth studied Meghan for a moment. The girl looked miffed by her reproof. I’d better go and meet him. Catch you later.

Beth walked on into the building, greeting colleagues as she moved down the long hallway. She loved her work at the lab, but she missed spending time out in the forests. Still, she couldn’t complain. Her expertise in botanical forensics was widely known, and there was the future promise of field trips to help several colleagues with their research. Working with others always had the potential to open new avenues of discovery. She looked forward to meeting the new technician. New people meant fresh eyes and new ideas.

Beth reached her workspace and moved over to her desk. No sign of Paul at this point in time. Turning on her equipment, Beth looked around with satisfaction. Smiling with pleasure, she waited for the computer to bring up her login page.

Good morning.

Beth jumped at the sudden voice behind her. She turned around. A man of average height and build with a thick mop of blond hair stood watching her, his hands on his hips.

Paul, I assume, she said, extending her hand and smiling.

Yes, I’m Paul, and it looks like it might be my lucky day, he said, his gaze travelling down her body and back up, coming to rest on her chest.

Beth raised her eyebrows. Was this what Meghan meant?

Who are you looking for? Me, I hope? he continued, his voice suggestive, a smile of appreciation on his lips.

I’m Dr Beth Pearce, one of the botanists, and your supervisor, Beth said. And my face is up here, she added, pointing to her chin. She watched, satisfied, as Paul’s jaw