Chapter One

As the forty-seven foot MLB, Motor Lifeboat, skipped across the waves, the salt air and sea spray washed over him. Standing on the exposed bridge, a smile came to his face. Nodding at a crewmember, he glanced to the left. The morning sun glinted off something on the horizon.

“Bring her left, Teak!” he shouted to the woman at the wheel inside the pilothouse. He could have done it, but she was driving for the moment.

“Sure thing, Justice,” she shouted back.

He instinctively adjusted his stance as the boat changed direction and increased in speed. Coastal patrols were a part of the job. This was his crew and they made him damn proud. Jamal “Justice” Isaiah Graham served as a Lieutenant in the United States Coast Guard, USCG.

He came from a long line of men who’d served their country, no matter what the sacrifice. In fact, his own father had secured a place for his name on The Wall in DC, having been killed in action in Vietnam. He grew up listening to his grandfather, a World War II vet, telling stories of his experiences and ones passed down to him as well. Even his twin sister, Jasira, served in the Navy.

As they neared a moored craft, all thoughts of family faded. He listened to Teak’s voice over the loudspeaker, asking for whoever was onboard to identify themselves. When no response reached them, Justice signaled for a boarding party to follow him. Teak radioed in their location and what they’d discovered.

They didn’t always have the luxury of having one of the larger ships present when stumbling across a problem, so while today was a training drill, all of his crew was acting as if it were the real thing, an actual potential threat to the country they protected.

Once the drill was over, he and his crew were once again skimming the water, all of them proud, knowing they’d done an exceptional job. Leaning against the rail, he tipped his face up. I can’t imagine my life without being out on the water.

“Hey, Justice.”

Opening his eyes, Justice looked to his left. His second-in-command stood there, Lieutenant Terra “Teak” Acre. He smiled and stood straight. A glance behind him identified Cruz at the helm.

“What’s up? Great job driving today.”

She flashed him a smile, her white teeth brilliant against her darker skin. “Can you drop me off at the museum today after work? I had to take my car in, and the guy said he’d leave it there for me.”

“Sure, not a problem.” Pushing away from the rail, he navigated his way alongside her into the pilothouse. He took over and steered them safely back into port.

The sky was dark and thunder rumbled through the area as he pulled up to the museum. As the first few big drops fell from the sky, Teak jumped out and waved her thanks before she dashed up the stairs. Justice waved to her and began to drive on. In his peripheral vision he noticed a woman carrying a load too big and awkward for her. He was tired and wanted to get to his apartment, but his manners and upbringing wouldn’t let him ignore her. Tossing the gearshift into park, Justice turned on the hazards and climbed out. The moment he shut the door behind him, the woman dropped what she carried.

“Oh…oh…fudge!” she complained before dropping to a crouch and frantically gathering everything in the rain.

Fudge? Didn’t know people said fudge anymore. Justice picked up some papers by the parking block he stood on. Striding over to her, he knelt down. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she said looking up at him from beneath the brim of her Pepto-Bismol pink rain hat.

His heart skipped a few beats when he stared into her eyes. A blend of gray with a hint of green swirled within the depths. Wow! “Let me get that for you,” he managed to mutter.

Justice took the stacks of haphazardly gathered, and now damp, papers before getting to his feet. Carefully holding them, he reached out a hand to help her up. Her hand, although slightly wet, felt warm and soft against his skin and his heart pounded faster. The rain fell harder and the thunder rolled. As one they headed toward the door of the museum.

“Thank you so much,” she said, gesturing for him to put the pile down on the information counter. “I should have taken more than one trip, but with the rain I didn’t want to, so then I had too much and… and I’m rambling like an idiot.”

Justice watched a delighted flush tinge her nut-brown skin. “Glad I could help.”

She stuck her hand out, a wide and innocent smile on her face. “Kassidy Barrow. It’s a pleasure.”

He immediately reached for her hand. “Indeed it is. Justice Graham.” The urge to draw her in close nearly floored him. Kassidy wrinkled her nose and dropped his hand seconds before she sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you.” She sneezed again. “Excuse me.” With a wave over her shoulder she moved off down the hall.

Justice faced the woman going through the wet pile they’d left on the information counter; there was a huge smile on her face. “Does she work here?” he asked.

The woman with “Lucy” on her nametag shook her head. “No, sir. But she’s here a lot. Her mom’s the curator.”

“Thank you.” He crossed his arms and looked off in the direction she’d vanished. There had been something about her, he couldn’t put a name to it yet but it was there.

“Have a great day,” Lucy said, putting her attention back on the mess before her.

“You too.”

Spinning around, Justice headed out into the downpour. Kassidy Barrow. Her face was still with him as he slid his soaked body behind the wheel of his car, turned off the hazards, and drove away.

“Until we meet again, Kassidy.”