Trigger

By Melanie P. Smith

Balancing the Scales by Force...
A ruthless killer, a survivor, and a dysfunctional family running out of options.
A shocking act of violence sends a young widow into hiding. Now, a killer with rules of his own has set his sights on those fighting for justice. Frustrated by the system they dedicated their lives to, doing their best to fly under the radar, a small group of unlikely heroes set out to stop a madman. To succeed, they must put personal beliefs before professional ethics.
Time is running out; a ruthless killer continues his reign of violence; rules must be broken. Can this secret group of vigilantes unearth the truth before it’s too late? They didn’t start this war, but they are the only ones that can finish it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MPSmith Publishing
• Release date: Aug 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781948629171

Melanie P. Smith

Melanie P. Smith went to Dixie State College and the University of Phoenix where she received her Bachelor of Science Degree in Business Management. She also has a Postgraduate Certificate in Conflict Resolution and Negotiation from the University of Utah. She worked for the Salt Lake County Sheriff’s Office for over 26 years. Most of that time was in the Special Operations Division where she worked closely with the SWAT Team and The Child Abduction Response Team coordinating communications and logistics. She also worked closely with Search & Rescue, The Mounted Posse, K9 and the Motorcycle Squad. Melanie has been able to utilize both her knowledge of police operations and business practices to make her novels fun and exciting.

Book preview

Trigger

Vigilante Justice Series

Book 1

by:

Melanie P. Smith

Book Description

Balancing the Scales by Force…

A ruthless killer, a survivor, and a dysfunctional family running out of options. A shocking act of violence sends a young widow into hiding. Now, a killer with rules of his own has set his sights on those fighting for justice. Frustrated by the system they dedicated their lives to, doing their best to fly under the radar, a small group of unlikely heroes set out to stop a madman. To succeed, they must put personal beliefs before professional ethics.

Time is running out; a ruthless killer continues his reign of violence; rules must be broken. Can this secret group of vigilantes unearth the truth before it’s too late? They didn’t start this war, but they are the only ones that can finish it.

Copyright © 2021 Melanie P. Smith

First Edition | Series: Vigilante Justice

Edited by LaPriel Dye

* * *

No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the Author.

www.melaniepsmith.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All trademarks are the property of their owners and are acknowledged by the proper use of capitalization throughout.

Dedication:

To those dedicated to justice

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Author Links

Chapter One

Justine was giggling as she stood impatiently waiting for her husband to unlock the front door. She hadn’t been this giddy since high school. Yes, she was giddy. And… she was a little drunk. She rarely had more than a single glass of wine these days but tonight she wanted a little fun. She needed a relaxing evening on the town with the man she loved more than anything. Life always seemed to get in the way these days. They were both so exhausted and stressed that, by the end of the day, they barely had the energy for a quick peck and a mumbled goodnight before they dropped off to sleep. She giggled again; they were so… married! She never thought she’d say this, but she missed the carefree, and sometimes silly, days they complained about when they were young, struggling newlyweds. The days of relaxing in the park, camping under the stars, and plopping on the floor in front of the television with bad Chinese takeout. If only they could go back in time.

The instant the door flew open, Justine took a step forward, tripped on the threshold and would have landed — hard — on the majestic marble floor if her husband hadn’t caught her. She snorted out a laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his. The kiss was long and deep and loving.

Let’s go upstairs, baby, Kevin whispered in Justine’s ear.

You might have to carry me, Justine grinned. I’m not sure I can make it.

That’s because you’re drunk, Kevin accused, leaning in to give her ear a gentle nip.

Maybe, Justine began, then frowned when Kevin’s phone chimed.

Kevin glanced at the screen then dropped it back into his pocket. It’s the end of a perfect date. He pulled her closer and kissed her neck. I wonder if I’ll get lucky.

You got lucky before dinner, Justine teased.

That was hours ago, and I did show my date a good time, Kevin winked at her, then sighed when his phone rang again.

Maybe you should get that, Justine frowned.

Kevin pulled the phone from his pocket. It’s Richard. He can wait, I have something more important to do, his eyes sparkled, and one corner of his mouth tipped up in amusement. Or, more to the point — someone.

Justine laughed, more content than she’d been in weeks. Her heart did a little flip when her husband leaned forward and gently pressed his mouth to hers. It quickened even more when he shifted, deepened the kiss, and trapped her body against the wall. She was amazed, but grateful. After all this time, Kevin still made her heart flutter. A gentle touch or a simple kiss could send an electrical surge of desire through her entire body, reminding her just how much she loved this man. The ringing stopped then immediately started up again.

Kevin let out a frustrated growl. Let me get rid of him or he’s going to annoy us all night.

I’ll head up, Justine decided. Don’t take too long, she paused to glance over her shoulder, giving her husband a flirtatious smile. I’ll be waiting on our big warm, inviting bed in something more... comfortable.

Kevin laughed and pulled out his phone. He paused to watch, completely enamored with his wife’s long legs and sexy body as she made her way to the top of the steps. Hey, baby, he called.

Justine turned, gave him a flirtatious grin, and silently waited.

I love you, Kevin locked eyes with hers. I love you more with each passing day; and, I’m pretty sure, I’m the luckiest man alive.

I love you, too, Justine’s breath caught in her throat. And I’m the lucky one.

His phone began to ring, again. Kevin glanced at the display then shook his head. He’s definitely persistent. I won’t be long. Maybe you could change into that little black number you bought last month.

Maybe I could, Justine said playfully before she turned and headed for the bedroom, laughing.

This better be important, Justine heard Kevin growl. She moved to the large walk-in closet and began searching for a different sexy, black nighty. One Kevin would love, but he hadn’t seen yet. Once she changed, she slipped into the bathroom to freshen up a little. She knew she was taking too long, but she wanted the night to be special — one they would remember for a very long time. She was just finishing up, when she heard a loud noise that sounded like the front door slamming.

She moved to the top of the stairs and realized they had company. Who could it be at this hour? She didn’t recognize the voices, other than Kevin’s. His was flat, but she knew that tone. He was angry and defiant. She descended three stairs before she remembered what she was wearing. She started to pivot but froze when she saw movement in the large mirror on the foyer wall. She let out a surprised gasp and gripped the railing for support. Then, she immediately covered her mouth. Terror gripped her and she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, didn’t know what to do. So, she just stood there staring through the mirror at the man in an expensive suit — and the gun. The lethal weapon was swinging from the guy’s right hand — a hand that was clad in thin black leather gloves. She continued to stand frozen on the edge of the stair, studying the intruder. He was pacing back and forth and with each turn, he tapped the gun on his muscular thigh. He looked familiar but she couldn’t place him, couldn’t get a clear view of his face.

Justine silently moved down one more step. She could see the group clearly now. Kevin was sitting in one of the lounge chairs, a huge man stood to the left of the chair, one enormous hand gripping her husband’s shoulder to hold him in place. There was another man standing on the far side of the room, near Kevin’s antique desk. Then, of course, there was the man in the suit — the one with the gun — pacing back and forth in front of her husband.

Just return my property and this will be over. If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll make you watch while I have a little fun with that sweet little wife of yours, the man warned.

Good luck with that. My wife’s out of town, Kevin shot a glance toward the mirror and Justine realized he knew she was there. You want to involve Justine; you’ll have to come back. She’s on a week-long girls’ trip with her sister. I’m surprised the all-knowing Anson Baldoni didn’t know that already.

Justine swallowed hard and wanted to run, she would run. But first, she had to get a clear look at the other intruders. Now that Kevin said the name, she recognized the sadistic monster — even with his back turned away from the stairs. Everyone in town feared Baldoni, including Justine. She avoided him as much as possible because he terrified her. But why was he here, and what did he want from her husband? She focused on the man she loved; their eyes locked for just a second before he looked away. It was enough. He was pleading with her to save herself.

Mark my words, Anson growled. If you don’t give me what I want, I will kill you. Then, I’ll come back next week and take care of your wife. When I do, I’ll make sure she knows all the pain, all the suffering, is your fault. She’ll know you could have stopped it, you could have prevented it, but she wasn’t important enough. She’ll die knowing her husband didn’t love her enough to protect her.

Justine knows I love her, Kevin focused on the mirror — on his wife. She knows she’s the most important person in my life. She is my life. She knows I would do anything, give anything — including my own life — to protect her. And she knows how to protect herself. She knows where to hide. You’ll never find her, Baldoni. Come back next week, or next month, it won’t matter. My wife’s a survivor and she’ll easily outsmart someone like you. I assume you already killed Richard Loveless.

I’m asking the questions here, Anson stalked away, out of Justine’s view.

She jumped in surprise and nearly fell off the step when she heard the loud thud and realized the man just slammed his fist onto Kevin’s sturdy wooden desk. She also understood Kevin’s message, loud and clear. He wanted her to hide, then run. He wanted her to leave him in that room knowing Anson Baldoni would kill him, knowing she’d never see her husband again, knowing he loved her enough to give his life to protect her and help her escape. But how could she live with that? How could she live without him?

Then ask your questions, Kevin gave Justine another pleading look. Tears streamed down her face, but her eyes stayed locked on her husband’s. She had always loved his eyes, they were brown with tiny speckles of gold; and, when he smiled, they sparkled. I love you, she mouthed silently.

This is your last chance, Anson moved to stand by Kevin’s side. Tell me where it is, and I’ll spare your wife. We both know I won’t spare you; so, it’s a waste of time to lie about that. You defied me, you got in my way, and you stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong. You must pay for that interference. But your wife... he let the sentence hang.

As I said, Kevin tried to sound bored. Justine’s untouchable, his eyes bore into her, begging her to flee. She’s out of town, out of your reach, and she doesn’t know anything about Richard, the finances, or where I might have hidden the evidence. Go ahead, tell her anything you want the next time you see her — if you see her. She knows how much I love her. She became my world the instant I met her, and she knows it. Some off-handed comment from you would never change that. You will never understand the bond we have because you’re incapable of love, Anson. The bond I share with Justine can’t be broken by your lies.

Justine wanted to scream, she wanted to run down the stairs and attack the ugly, creepy, sadistic man, but she knew that would only get her killed. At the moment, the only thing she could give Kevin — the man she loved with every fiber of her being — was her life; and the peace of mind he’d get from knowing she’d be okay. She waited until Kevin glanced her way, told him she loved him one last time then turned, and used the handrail to steady her as she silently made her way to the top of the stairs. Once she reached the landing, she darted into the master bedroom, snatched her cellphone off the dresser, and slipped back inside the large walk-in closet. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably when she pressed her palm to the plate and waited for the secret door to slide open. It had only gone a couple feet when she slipped inside and slammed her hand on the interior panel — sending the signal to close and lock the door behind her.

The instant she heard the click, she sank to the floor and called the police. Everyone knew Anson had at least one cop in his pocket, maybe more. But what other option did she have? The dispatcher told her not to hang up, but she didn’t listen. She disconnected the call, shut down her phone, and slipped the battery from the back, tossing them both onto the table. It was the hardest thing she would ever do, but she moved to the sleek black console and settled into the large executive chair. Within seconds, the monitors fired up and she was staring into the face of a madman.

Kevin was resigned but he was also more relaxed now, she could see it in his eyes, in his movements, in his demeanor. He knew she was safe, and he knew Anson Baldoni was going to kill him. She knew it too, but she still jumped and let out a loud, anguished moan when Baldoni pulled the trigger, killing the only man she would ever love. Kevin’s body jerked, blood oozed through his shirt, then his body went limp and the man holding him in place released his grip. Her husband fell to the floor, his lifeless body discarded by a coldblooded killer. She was no longer watching when Baldoni sauntered casually out the front door, his men a few steps behind.

Justine fell apart. She slipped from the chair and landed in a fetal position on the floor. Pain and sorrow engulfed her. She was sobbing so hard; she could barely breathe. Kevin was gone. Nothing else mattered. She’d never see him again. Never hold him. Never talk to him. Her life would never be the same. She let herself grieve; another inhumane moan escaped from deep in the pit of her stomach, but she didn’t care. She knew she was safe and secure in here. Kevin had installed the impenetrable, sound proofed room himself — with the help of Mack Devonshire. Nobody knew it existed. Nobody but her and Mack. She could take as long as she needed to fall apart, then she’d run.

Anson might instruct his men to search, to take a few valuables and make it look like a robbery, but they wouldn’t search the house for her. And, they would never find the evidence Kevin hid from them. Chances were high —whatever Richard gave him — it was concealed inside this secret room somewhere. Kevin was smart, and protective. He spent the last few minutes of his life protecting her and ensuring her safety; because the sadistic killer that just murdered her husband, believed she was off vacationing with some made-up sister she didn’t have. Justine was pretty sure that was another ploy, a lie her husband made up to keep Anson busy — to give her time to run and hide. Baldoni would eventually try to track her down, but he wouldn’t find anything. Justine was an orphan. Her parents died when she was four. She spent another two years in foster care before a middle-aged couple adopted her. It took time, but she finally warmed up to her new family; and eventually, she let herself love them. She cherished the short time they had together. Then, suddenly, they too had died. Three years ago, they were returning home from their dream vacation when a thunderstorm hit unexpectedly. The small plane her father had been piloting went down hard. The couple, her second set of parents, were killed on impact.

The pain and hopelessness she felt after losing another set of parents nearly destroyed her. Kevin helped her get through it. Kevin carried her through that difficult time. His support and his love gave her the strength she needed to make it through the day. Now, he was gone too. She let herself slip further into a dark pit of despair and succumbed to another round of uncontrollable sobbing. She wasn’t sure she could survive this time. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. Losing Kevin might just break her beyond repair. And, right now, she was too distraught and overwhelmed to care.

Eventually, she’d have to run. She could practically hear Kevin’s voice in her head, begging her to hide until it was safe — then, run. So, she’d run. She would hide until she was sure it was safe, then she’d vanish into the night. She wouldn’t stop running until she found somewhere safe to disappear — forever.

Chapter Two

One Year Later…

Parker Devonshire sat in the large chair, legs crossed, tapping her foot impatiently in the air. She knew, the instant Judge Ritter summoned them to his chambers, Landon Dowds had yet another objection – another frivolous motion that was nothing more than a waste of time. She hadn’t known she’d be forced to sit here for close to an hour, impatiently waiting while he rehashed every single motion he previously made in this case. She would have said something, but she knew Judge Scott Ritter well enough to know, the man did not like to repeat himself. Remaining silent was the better move.

Mr. Dowds, Ritter finally interrupted. We’ve been here nearly an hour and I have yet to hear anything new. Do you have a point?

I do, Dowd sighed. My client feels, and I have to agree, that nearly all of the rulings you’ve made in this trial are biased. The unreasonable restrictions you’ve authorized drastically hinder my ability to contact and depose the prosecution’s star witness. They are unreasonably excessive; and frankly, they’re insulting.

As you stated when I ruled on that motion last month and again two days ago, Ritter’s voice remained flat, but his eyes telegraphed annoyance and impatience.

The ruling violates my client’s rights, Dowd insisted. I believe, strongly believe, we have a right to know where Justine Beckett is staying. Furthermore, justice cannot be served when this case is shadowed by secrets. I have a right to meet with Mrs. Beckett immediately to depose her. Time is of the essence. It’s impossible to be adequately prepared for cross examination if I don’t know what the witness will be saying under oath.

Ms. Devonshire, Ritter never took his eyes off Dowd. Would you like to address that one?

Sure, Parker turned to focus on Dowd’s client. As Mr. Dowd and his client know, Justine Beckett’s safety is our only concern. Providing either of them unrestricted access to the witness would present a significant risk to her personal safety and well-being. To overcome... she continued, talking over Dowd’s objections, ... the inconvenience, we agreed to make Mrs. Beckett available tomorrow morning. As we all know, your honor, you have a full docket. Our case is not scheduled to resume until thirteen hundred hours. That should give Mr. Dowd plenty of time to question the witness and prepare his cross. I fail to see the problem. Anson Baldoni knows — better than anyone — what Justine Beckett will say on the stand. He was there.

I object… Dowd began.

Judge Ritter held up a hand.

Dowd took a deep breath. Your honor, he began. My client maintains his innocence in this matter. To claim otherwise is a miscarriage of justice. And the idea Mrs. Beckett might be in some kind of danger, by me or my client is... well, it’s insulting.

I’m pretty sure Justine found the cold-blooded murder of her husband insulting, not to mention grotesque and abhorrent, Parker snapped.

Kevin Beckett’s death, while unfortunate, has nothing to do with my client, Dowd argued.

And the subsequent attack on Justine two and a half months later? Parker challenged.

Again, Ritter held up a hand. Mr. Baldoni, you stated — on record — that the men who attacked Mrs. Beckett were under your employ at the time of the incident. I believe you called it an unexpected travesty that surprised you as much as it did the rest of the community. You further insisted, you had no prior knowledge that an assault — on the only witness against you in this case — was imminent. You asserted it was planned out, and executed, by rogue employees acting on their own. Does this previous statement still stand, or would you like to amend it?

My client does not wish to amend this statement, or any other statement he’s made in this matter, Dowd jumped in before Anson could reply.

I’d like to hear it from your client, Ritter watched Anson carefully.

Nothing has changed, Anson glared at the judge.

Then, Ritter continued to watch Anson. If two of your employees went rogue, as you put it, there’s no guarantee another employee won’t do the same. Justine Beckett’s safety could very well be at risk. This court has compelled her to appear and, therefore, has a responsibility to keep her safe. The precautions, previously outlined by this court, will remain in effect. You’ll be notified once Mrs. Beckett has been transferred to a secure room inside the courthouse. At that time, she’ll be available to answer questions, for the entire morning if necessary. The witness has already agreed to these arrangements.

Which room? Dowd pushed. I need to know where to go when I arrive in the morning.

Once she’s secured and I’m confident she’ll be safe, I’ll let you know, Parker continued to scroll through the email she just received from a colleague. She knew it was insulting, which is why she did it. Dowd would know he wasn’t important enough to garner her undivided attention.

In that case, Dowd pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase. You leave me no choice. I’ve prepared a motion requesting your recusal, Judge Ritter. We ask that you step aside immediately. He handed the documents to the judge.

Me? Ritter raised an eyebrow. This should be good. On what grounds?

It has come to our attention, Dowd’s voice shook a little.

Parker did glance up now. Landon Dowd was nervous. Clearly, he was doing his client’s bidding without regard for his own reputation, or the consequences of this monumentally stupid request.

Yes, Ritter motioned for him to continue. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Well, Dowd swallowed audibly. We recently learned you and Mack Devonshire played on the same athletic team in high school. As baseball is a team sport, where the players create lasting bonds of friendship, we believe you simply cannot be objective and unbiased in this matter.

And what, exactly, Ritter barely constrained his fury, does playing baseball in high school, with Mack Devonshire, have to do with Anson Baldoni?

Well, Dowd looked pointedly at Parker. The prosecutor is Mack Devonshire’s daughter, of course.

And? Ritter asked.

Dowd furrowed his brow in confusion. And what?

I believe that’s my question, Ritter glared at Dowd then focused on Anson. This ridiculous attempt to have me removed demonstrates just how desperate you are, and the lengths you will go, to scheme your way out of a fair-and-lawful trial. The motion is denied, Mr. Dowd. Get out of my chambers — now.

Parker stood and watched as Landon Dowd jumped to his feet, motioned to Baldoni, then scampered toward the door. She pivoted and took one step, intending to follow, but was stopped by Ritter.

Parker? his voice was soft but resigned.

Sir?

Watch your back, Ritter warned. Anson Baldoni does not like to lose. Add to it, he’s desperate, and that makes for a dangerous combination.

I’d caution the same, Parker sighed. You’re the one that just told him no. Baldoni objects, usually violently, when he doesn’t get his way.

Maybe, Ritter stood and moved to stand in front of his window. Maybe so, but you’re the catalyst, and you’re Mack Devonshire’s daughter. That alone is enough. Yeah, I know. Everyone knows there’s friction between you and your father, but I don’t think Anson Baldoni factors that in much. Just be careful until this is over. I have a bad feeling about all of it.

I happen to agree, Parker nodded. I’ve been extremely careful since this trial began. I altered my routine and I’ve recently added a few extra precautions just to be safe. I hope you will do the same.

So noted, Ritter watched as Parker Devonshire walked out of his chambers with grace and an air of class few people possessed. He wasn’t exactly Mack’s friend, nor was he an enemy. Oh, the two of them had been friendly back in the day, but different paths... he mused. The idea he might be in danger had never occurred to him. It should have, Anson Baldoni was a narcissistic sociopath. He knew it, everyone knew it. Few had the guts to stand up to the man. Parker Devonshire had the guts. The fact she inherited that particular trait from her father, would only annoy her — didn’t make it any less true. Ritter settled back into his chair. He’d take precautions, starting immediately. He picked up the phone and dialed his wife — it should be easy enough to convince the doting grandmother to head up north and spend a little time with her grandkids.

*****

Parker shoved the enormous file into her bag and began to shut down for the night. Judge Ritter was right, Anson Baldoni was furious. And a furious Baldoni was a dangerous Baldoni. She’d take the work home and spend a couple more hours going over the details in a place she knew she’d be safe. Hopefully, by the time she settled in, Cam and Justine would be finished with the search. She didn’t like sending them back to the house; but if they found whatever Kevin hid there, whatever evidence Anson was so desperate to recover, it might strengthen her case and guarantee a win this time. She was determined to put Anson Baldoni behind bars for murdering Kevin Beckett and his friend Richard. Well, truth be told, she wanted him to pay for all the rest; the crimes he got away with, and the victims that had to live knowing they’d never get justice. That man had slipped through her fingers too many times before. This time, she was plugging all the holes.

Parker was reaching for the handle of