Page 2 of Sentinel's Kiss

Chapter 1

It had been two years since Sentinel saw the face of his sister’s murderer. Two years of searching for the bastard who got away with it. Instead of a rifle scope, though, Sentinel was watching him through the telephoto lens of a camera. Stan had shaved his head bald and grown a goatee, but Sentinel would have recognized his brother-in-law even with a bag over his head.

Two years had passed since Evil and Warden had to hold him back from lunging across his sister’s grave to take down the son of a bitch who cried crocodile tears at the burial. The law couldn’t prove Stan had anything to do with Sarah’s death, but Sentinel knew the truth. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind Stan had beaten and tortured his wife before stuffing her in the trunk and driving her car into Hammer Lake, two miles from their home in Pennsylvania.

Sentinel ran through his options. He wouldn’t be able to make the hit on Stan look like anything that could even remotely be traced back to him. That meant he couldn’t blow his head off with a sniper rifle, or put a bomb in his car, or beat him to death slowly. Sentinel’s Special Forces record was almost as well known as his animosity toward his brother-in-law. What he really wanted to do was hook Stan up to the back of his motorcycle and drag him along the highway while his friends rode cover.

Several scenarios entertained him while Stan, oblivious, mowed his lawn. Sentinel could come up behind him and slit his throat from ear to ear. He could suffocate him in his sleep. Hell, he was pretty sure he could poison him and make it look like a heart attack. Didn’t matter how he did it, Stan wasn’t going to see the dawn. Tonight his sister would have justice. Sentinel waited for peace to enter his soul at that thought, but it wasn’t coming. Maybe after the cocksucker took his last breath.

Sentinel had been about to put the camera away when she came into focus. His finger clicked on the shutter and he caught her walking up to Stan, blond hair flowing in the breeze, her luscious lips curved into a tentative smile. The wind pulled at her fitted dress, outlining her lush curves. He hadn’t seen her in person for two years either. But instead of rage, his body tightened with lust. What was Ashley Carver doing here, of all places? It had to have something to do with Sarah’s death.

He was going to have to risk going in closer. Tossing the camera in the glove box, Sentinel pulled his ball cap low on his forehead. He climbed out of the rental car, slipping on a pair of shades. He missed his Harley, but he couldn’t chance spooking Stan if he heard a motorcycle and looked up and saw Sentinel bearing down on him. Crossing the street, Sentinel fitted an earpiece into his ear and pointed the slim microphone that Ryder had given him toward Stan’s yard. Once on the sidewalk, Sentinel bent down, pretending to tie his shoe. He couldn’t stay exposed out here for very long. He didn’t want the neighbors to remember a strange man lurking the day before Stan turned up dead.

The microphone picked up Ashley’s voice. “I’ve been assigned to do a follow-up on your wife’s murder. And I was hoping that you and I could sit down and talk for a while.”

Sentinel stifled a groan. Just what he didn’t need. And she’d be after him next for an interview, if he didn’t already have a message from her on his phone. How did she even track Stan down? Sentinel had been looking for him for two years. Ryder had just handed him a folder containing some pictures and this address yesterday. Stan was going by a different last name and had just moved into this house in Ronkonkoma.

“I’ve worked very hard to put this behind me, Miss Carver. You being here dredges up all the terrible memories.”

Fuck you.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Sentinel could see the remorse in her expression even at this distance. He remembered Ashley’s kindness and empathy from when she had interviewed him for the initial story about his sister’s death. She had scored major points with him when she hadn’t dug deeper into Sarah’s life. Sentinel connected with her at a level that shook him. He had told her things he never told anyone, none of which had anything to do with his sister.

Despite the circumstances, or maybe because of them, the sex had been amazing. He had told her that he would call her, but of course he never did. Though in his defense, Ashley had his number and had never called him either.

She ran the story but left him out of it. Sentinel wasn’t sure if he was relieved or offended. She went back to Manhattan and he wandered all over the States until Evil asked him to buy a bar with him and offered him a chance to put his military skills to use. Evil had made a connection with a judge who was just as sick of guilty predators getting off with a slap on the wrist instead of going to jail or getting the needle.

Evil gathered the Sentinels of Babylon, their childhood crew, together. The SOBs had been kids who grew up to be guardians of more than just one another and the Long Island town of Babylon. While Sentinel joined the army, Evil became a cop. Warden had been a high-security prison guard and Ryder went into the CIA, which explained all the high-tech toys and intel she always had her hands on. They all swore an oath to bring justice to those who had none. In short, Sentinel and his friends were vigilantes.

“I don’t see the point in revisiting all of this.” Stan’s reply jolted him out of his thoughts. “My wife’s murderer is still free.”

Not for long.

“I’ve been led to believe that the police have received new information in the case.”

Ashley stunned them both with that news.

“I’m sorry to have barged in on you without notice. I was worried you wouldn’t take my call. But I never meant to cause you distress.”

Distress? More like panic. Sentinel would have grinned if he didn’t want that information more than he wanted his next breath.

“Here’s my card, Mr. Stevens. If you change your mind and want to talk, give me a call.”

Sentinel turned and hurried back to his car. He didn’t hear what Stan was saying, but it sounded like he was trying to get more details out of Ashley. But she was already walking away. She’d have her interview, but on her terms. Sentinel tailed her out of the neighborhood, sparing Stan one last look in his rearview mirror.

Soon, motherfucker.

He called around until one of the SOBs picked up the phone. “Warden, I need you to set up twenty-four-hour surveillance on Stan.”

“I thought this was a done deal. The Judge is calling tomorrow.”

The Judge gave the SOBs their assignments, a list of who was going to die because they got off on a technicality or had slipped through the cracks of the system.

“Something came up,” Sentinel said. “But don’t worry. I can handle it. You just make sure someone is always watching this asshole in case he decides to rabbit. I’ll be back at the bar soon and we can talk more then.”

“You need any other help?”