Authors: Kat Martin
Against the Sky (24 page)
Samantha returned her attention to Nick. “I guess you'll have to put up with me for a few more days.”
Leaning over the bed, he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I never wanted you to leave. I just wanted you safe.”
The doctor tapped her pen against the clipboard in her hands. “I'll have the release papers prepared. As soon as they're ready, you can take Samantha home.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Samantha said.
“I'll take good care of her,” Nick promised.
The doctor just smiled. “I can see that you will.” Her shoes squeaked as she crossed to the door and pulled it open, disappeared out into the hall.
Fighting not to cry, Samantha looked at Nick. “I should be glad this happened. We . . . both should. We didn't plan on having a baby. Now we don't have to . . . worry about it.” She glanced away, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She swallowed past the thick lump in her throat. “Funny thing is . . . after all the worry, I kind of started . . . you know . . . looking forward to being a mother.”
Nick glanced away. “Yeah. Funny thing.” He released a deep, slow breath. “I'll get you checked out, then come back for you.” Turning away from her, he strode out into the hall.
A fresh lump rose in Samantha's throat as the door slowly closed behind him. She shouldn't be feeling this way. She should be relieved. No more worry about the future. No more thinking about her relationship with Nick.
Samantha turned her face into the pillow and started to weep.
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Nick checked on the paperwork, found out it would be ready in twenty minutes. While he waited, he walked outside the building to get a breath of fresh air.
The minute he stepped out the door, he filled his lungs, took in what felt like the first full breath he had taken since he got to the hospital. The temperature was in the low forties, the sky a dull pewter gray. He was glad for the chill that helped clear his head.
Pulling his throwaway cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed Cord's number.
“A problem's come up,” he said when his best friend answered. “We have to abort the mission.”
“What are you talking about? Everything's set.”
“I'm at the hospital. Samantha had a miscarriage. She can't go back to San Francisco for another week.”
“She was pregnant?”
He sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. Happened in Vegas. It's a long story. I'm bringing her back to the cabin as soon as she's released. If that's okay.”
“Of course, it's okay, for chrissake. All right if I tell Mary? Samantha may need a woman to talk to.”
“Good idea. I'll see you soon.”
Nick ended the call. For long moments he just stood there, unsure exactly what to do. Then he phoned Rafe. He wasn't sure why. Maybe he just needed to hear his big brother's voice.
“Brodie,” Rafe answered, not recognizing the caller on the disposable phone.
“It's me. I'm on a throwaway. Some things have come up.”
He could almost feel his brother's worry antenna going on alert. “What kind of things?” Rafe asked.
There's a dead guy in Fairbanks and we're about to take on the Russian mob.
“Samantha lost the baby.”
“Samantha lost the baby.”
“Damn. That's too bad, Nick.”
“I got off lucky, right? No child support. No worrying about how the kid's being raised. I caught a break, right?”
A long silence fell. “I get the sense that's not the way you feel.”
Nick swallowed. He took a deep breath and slowly released it, watched it turn white in the cold Alaskan air. “I don't know how I feel. The truth is, I was kind of getting used to the idea of being a father.”
“She can have other kids, right? She came out of it okay?”
“Samantha's all right. She's pretty upset, but she's okay. She can't go home for another week.”
“Good. That'll give you some time to figure things out.”
“What's there to figure? She's going home. I'm staying here. That's all there is to it.”
“Is it? You know, little brother, nothing's black and white. There are lots of alternatives out there if you look for them.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Listen, I've got a boat pulling out. I've got to go. Call me if you need meâand don't do anything stupid.” Rafe hung up the phone.
The ghost of a smile touched Nick's lips. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he walked back into the hospital to collect Samantha and take her home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was late afternoon, the sky still overcast and grim. A fire roared behind the glass window in the wood-burning stove in the corner, keeping the living room warm. Having been fussed over by everyone in the house, including Jimmy, Samantha rested comfortably beneath a pile of blankets on the sofa. Her lower back was aching and she felt strangely lethargic, but aside from that, she was okay.
At least physically. She and Mary had talked when she'd arrived. Samantha was surprised how good it felt to speak to a woman who understood a little of the loss she felt.
“I'd love to have a baby someday,” Mary had said. “But I'm not ready yet. In time, I hope I will be.”
“I wasn't ready, either,” Samantha said. “But as the days went along, somehow that changed.” She fought back a fresh round of tears, felt Mary's slim hand wrap around her fingers.
“You're healthy,” Mary said. “That's the main thing. When you're ready, you'll try again. Maybe that'll be soon, or maybe sometime down the road. You'll know when the time is right.”
Though Samantha was comforted by the notion, she couldn't imagine having a child with anyone but Nick. She felt a soft pang in her heart. Having a baby with Nick was never going to happen. She needed some time to accept that.
She heard him before she saw him, talking to Cord as they walked out of the kitchen, one dark-haired, one blond, both tall and incredibly handsome.
“Have you called Derek and told him we'll be postponing the operation for at least a week?” Nick asked his friend.
“No. I'm not convinced we should do that. We aren't sure how long those women will be working that motel, and finding them again won't be easy. On top of that, I have to be at work Monday morning. We need to do this tonight.”
“I'm not doing anything till Samantha is safe back in San Francisco.” Nick smiled as he walked toward her. “How are you feeling, honey?”
“At the moment, hearing what you just said, I feel pretty rotten. I can't believe you're thinking of canceling your plans.”
“What? You just lost a baby, forgodsake.”
“That has nothing to do with it. You have to do the mission tonight. Until you resolve this, Mary and Jimmy are still in danger. And after what happened in Fairbanks, so are you.”
“Samantha . . .”
“You know I'm right. You have to do this, Nick. You don't have any choice.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Even if we talk to those women, we might not be able to convince one of them to cooperate.”
“You certainly won't be able to if you don't try.”
“She's right,” Cord chimed in. “We need to end this, Nick.”
He raked a hand through his wavy black hair. “I don't like it. What if something goes wrong?”
“Something can always go wrong,” Cord said. “Doesn't change what we need to do.”
He flicked a glance at Samantha, saw the resolve in her face, and blew out a frustrated breath. “All right, you win. We go in the way we planned. But we leave Derek here with Mary and Samantha. We should have done that in the first place.”
“If we do, we won't have a lookout.”
“Yes, you will,” Jimmy said from the bottom of the stairs. “I can do it. I'm the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”
“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Cord said, shaking his head.
Nick looked over at the tall woman standing next to the boy. “Mary?”
“I have to do this, Aunt Mary,” Jimmy pleaded. “We can't just keep hiding.”
Mary's gaze went to her nephew, and Samantha could see the love she felt for him.
“Jimmy's right,” Mary said. “You've risked your lives to help us. We have to help, too. And I believe Jimmy can handle whatever you need him to do.”
The boy seemed to stand a little straighter.
“All right, then,” Nick said. “It's settled. We go in tonight, do what we need to. And hope like hell it works.”
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Mary held onto Duke's collar, keeping the dog in the house as the men headed out. Nick met Derek walking up the path as he, Cord, and Jimmy crossed the front deck toward the stairs.
“Change of plans,” Nick said. “You're staying with the women. We need to be sure they're safe. Jimmy's taking your place as lookout.”
Derek's brilliant green gaze slid over the boy. “You sure about that?”
Jimmy straightened to his near six-foot height. “I can keep watch. Nick says all I have to do is call him on the cell if I see something and need to warn him.”
“We need you here,” Cord said to Derek. “Nick's right about that. These women are important to us. We need to be sure they're safe.”
“All right.” Derek pulled a big semi-auto, Beretta nine mil from the clip holster hooked to the back of his jeans. He held up the weapon and dropped the clip to check the load, then shoved it back in. “I've got more firepower in my Jeep if it looks like I need it. You don't have to worry, I'll take good care of them.”
Nick trusted that he would. Derek Hunter was one of the most capable men he knew. “If something happens and you need to leave, we'll rendezvous at the Salmon Lodge. You know where it is, right?”
Derek nodded. “Little place off the road near Goose Bay.”
“The owner's a friend,” Nick said. “Noah Devlin. Ex-Delta, though he may not admit it. He'll help if you need him.”
Derek slid his pistol back into the holster beneath his flannel shirt. “Have fun,” was all he said.
Nick headed for the Explorer. Cord and Jimmy loaded up while he went around to the driver's side, climbed in and started the engine. It took a while to reach the Sunset Motel, but as planned, they arrived just after dark, on time for their “massage sessions.”
“I'm parking right here,” Nick said to Jimmy, turning the SUV around for a quick getaway and pulling out of sight beneath the low-hanging branches of a pine tree. “You've got the night vision goggles, right?”
The boy nodded.
Nick tossed him the car keys. “You told me once your dad was teaching you to drive. If things go south, get in the car and get out of here. You got it?”
Jimmy shook his head. “No way. I'm not leaving you behind.”
Nick stepped in front of him, used the voice he'd used in the Rangers. “This isn't up for discussion, Jim. I'm giving you an order. Things go bad, you leave. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You know what to watch for, right? Anything out of the ordinary. Anyone who shows up and heads for the rooms on the east side of the motel we're going into. That happens, we need to know.”
“Okay.”
“You got my number programmed into your phone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Stay low and out of sight.” Feeling the familiar adrenaline rush he'd always loved, Nick found himself grinning. “Keep the faith,” he said and started walking. Cord smiled and joined him on the path leading down the gentle slope to rooms fifteen and seventeen on the east side of the Sunset Motel.
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Nick stood on the threshold of room seventeen. The building was a single story, clapboard structure in fair condition. It was relatively open, just a few leafless trees between the motel and where he had parked the Explorer. Easy in and out. At least, he hoped so.
Nick knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, it swung open. A pretty, dark-haired woman wearing too much makeup and almost no clothes smiled and stepped back to let him in.
“Well, hello, handsome.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I'm Ruby. What can I do for you tonight?” She was wearing a black lace thong and black, thigh-high stockings. She had heavy breasts topped by big brown nipples.
“You do massages, right?”
“Oh, yeah, baby. When I finish giving a good . . . massage . . . you'll feel relaxed in every part of your body.”
“How much?”
She frowned, let her gaze run over him. “You're not a cop, are you?” He was in exceptionally good physical condition. No earrings. No visible tattoos. He knew he had the look. He could recognize it in other men.
“Ex-Ranger. I'm just looking for some company.”
“The price was on the web.”
“Three-hundred, right?”
“That's the base rate. Depends on exactly what you want.”
“How about four-hundred and you answer my questions.”
Her head came up and wariness crept into her features. “About what?”
“How about we start with Connie Bela Varga?” The Anchorage connection to Fedorko.
The color bled out of her face. “I don't know anyone by that name.”
“Sit down.”
She took one look at the hard set of his jaw and didn't argue. “What do you want?”
“I want to make you an offer, Ruby. You can take the offer or go to jail.”
“You said you weren't a cop.”
“The guy next door carries a badge. Here's the deal. You tell me everything you know about Bela Varga and we don't arrest you. You give us something really useful, the deal gets sweeter. You've got ten seconds to decide, starting now.”
He shoved up the sleeve of his jacket to look at his heavy black wristwatch.
“You're barking up the wrong tree,” Ruby said. “I don't work for Bela Varga. I don't know anything about him.”
He let the jacket sleeve fall back into place, fixed a hard stare on the woman. “All right. If you don't work for Bela Varga, who do you work for?”
Long seconds passed.
“I can stay here all night. Or I can have my friend take you in. What's it gonna be?”
“Fine, I work for a guy named Virgil Turnbull.”
“He's the guy they call The Bull. Turnbull works for Connie. Give me something I can use, and I promise I'll help you. I can see you get a clean start somewhere else, get a job in some other line of work.”
Her plump red lips curved up. “This is what I do, cowboy. I'm good at it, and I make more in a night than a waitress does in two weeks. You haul me in, I'll be out in twenty-four hours. Oh, one more thing. If I were you, I'd stop asking questions before Varga finds out and you wind up dead. Now arrest me or get out.”
“You know he's running underage girls? Twelve, thirteen years old? They're just kids.”
A shudder rippled through her. “I heard about it,” she said a little more softly. “I don't hold with that kind of thing. But I can't help you.”
“You sure this is the way you want it?”
“I'm sorry.”
He didn't say more. The woman had made her choice. He hoped to hell Cord had done better. He headed for the door, pulled it open, and walked outside. Time was of the essence. There was no way to know if Ruby would call Virgil The Bull or another of Varga's henchmen.
He strode down the corridor and knocked on the door to room fifteen. Cord pulled it open.
“No dice,” Nick said.
Cord motioned him into the room. “This is Lacey.” He tipped his head toward the near-naked, bleached blonde leaning back in a chair, a cigarette dangling from between her fingers. “She doesn't have anything to give us, but she has a friend who needs the kind of help we can offer.”
Nick felt a stirring of hope. “That so?” He smiled in her direction. “Hello, Lacey.”
Blond eyebrows beginning to show their dark roots arched up. “Well, aren't you two a pretty pair? You boys are so yummy, I'd do you both for free.”
Nick ignored her practiced smile. “Give us your friend's name. We'll do what we can to help her.”
Lacey sighed and some of her bravado faded. “She goes by the name Crystal but her real name is Carol Johnson. She's got a ten-year-old kid. Evie's a real pretty little girl. Carol's sure they're grooming her for the life. She's desperate to get Evie someplace safe before it's too late.”
“We can help her,” Cord said. “We can be the solution to her problem.”
“She might cooperate; I can't say for sure. She knows what'll happen to her if she goes against Bela Varga.”
“If she helps,” Cord said, “we can protect her and her daughter.”
Lacey took a drag on her cigarette, blew out a slow stream of smoke. “Like I said, she might help you. She'd do anything for that kid.”
“Where do we find her?” Nick asked.
Lacey sat up a little straighter. “You don't. I find her for you. I relay your message and set up a meetâfor a price.”
“How much?” Nick asked.
“Five-thousand. Cash.”
“Three,” Nick said.
Frosted pink lips curved into a smile. “Crystal works in Anchorage. It'll take me a couple of days to arrange things without causing suspicion.”
“What about the woman next door?” Nick asked. “She knows we came for information. She might have called someone already.”
“Ruby won't call anyone. She's afraid of Virgil. He gets off hitting women. Doesn't need a reason, any excuse will do. She won't say a word, and besides, I'll talk to her. She and Crystal are friends.”
“You've got till Wednesday,” Cord said.
“I'm not sure I can make it happen that fast,” Lacey countered, shaking her head. Long, blond hair swung forward, exposing roots the color of her eyebrows.
“All right,” Nick said. “But if we don't hear from you before the end of the week, we'll figure you're giving us the runaround and you won't like the consequences.”
Lacey ignored the remark. “How do I reach you?”
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