Against the Sky (25 page)

Nick reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper with the number of the disposable phone written on it. “You can reach me there.” He handed her the slip of paper. “Call when you've made the arrangements.”

“How do I get paid?”

“I'll leave the money with Crystal. That work for you?”

“Sure—assuming she goes for the deal.” Lacey got up from her chair, stubbed out her cigarette in the glass ashtray on the dresser. “Now you'd better get out of here, before my next customer arrives.”

Nick didn't argue. He couldn't leave soon enough. Turning up the collar of his jacket against the wind as they walked back to the Explorer, he thought of Samantha, and the tightness in his chest began to ease.

He told himself it wasn't because Samantha would be waiting for him when he got home.

Samantha watched Nick pace the floor. It was late Wednesday morning and still no word from Lacey or Crystal. Nick had given her the details. If Carol Johnson, alias Crystal Summers, could come up with information against any of the men involved in trafficking underage girls, the police would be forced to investigate. The feds would step in and once they were involved, the facts would be out in the open. Mary and Jimmy would be safe.

Hopefully Nick, as well.

Across the room, he checked his watch, his mood darkening with every passing minute. Jimmy was upstairs playing a game on his iPad, itching to get back to school, clearly as bored as Nick. Mary was trying to read a book, though the tedium of waiting seemed to be wearing on her, too.

Samantha was sick to death of being an invalid. She was feeling perfectly normal again and coming to grips with what had occurred—the end of a pregnancy that was never meant to happen in the first place.

Losing the baby still tugged at her heart, but she was learning to live with it. Life went on. She was healthy, and she was the type of person who looked forward not back.

Her focus now was on the young girls who were being so viciously abused. Though she'd been too young to do anything about what had happened to her sister, she might be able to help the girls in those motel rooms, who were being forced to do things no child should ever have to endure.

Nick paced the length of the room one more time. “Why the hell doesn't she call?”

“You told me it would take her a while to set things up. It's too early to give up yet. Why don't you go for a walk or something? You've got your phone. The sun's just come out. You look like you could use some fresh air.”

And she had learned that Nick was a man who craved the outdoors. It seemed to run deep in his bones. He'd been out for a while every day, running, walking, hiking one of the nearby trails.

He turned toward the window, saw rays of sunlight streaming down through a hole in the clouds. “Maybe you're right. I won't stay long, and I won't be far away if you need me.” Grabbing his jacket, he shrugged it on, stepped out onto the porch and closed the door.

Samantha stared at the place he had been, trying not to see him in the eye of her mind, tall and rugged, so damned sexy. She would never find another man like Nick. But maybe that was best. She'd be better off with a guy who enjoyed putting on a suit and tie, taking her out to a fancy dinner. A man who would escort her to a play or a lecture at the university.

She was never supposed to fall in love with Nick. He was never meant to be more than a fling, a guilty weekend pleasure. But the sad truth was, the thought of leaving him made her heart squeeze so hard it hurt.

Taking a shuddering breath, she sat up on the sofa, determined to think of something besides her unwanted feelings for Nick. She hadn't looked at her e-mail in days. She hadn't communicated with her family or Abby and if she didn't do it soon, they would worry.

Maybe when she finished, she would do a little more snooping, see if any of the people they were investigating showed up on Facebook. Fedorko had a wife and a girlfriend. Women loved to post photos and gossip.

Samantha opened the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of her, booted up the machine, and went to work.

 

 

The Anchorage police station bustled with activity, uniformed cops and plain clothes detectives moving up and down the halls. Cord was one of them, striding along the corridor, heading for his desk.

“I need a word with you, Detective Reeves.” The police captain stepped in front of him, just outside the door to his office. “In here.” Smoothing back his silver-touched sandy hair, Raymond Taggart waited for him to walk in, then closed the door, crossed to his desk and sat down. Cord took a seat in a chair in front of him.

Since returning to work on Monday, Cord had been staying in his apartment. It was a relief to be out of the cabin, away from Mary. Away from feelings for her he didn't want to have.

The worst of it was, she was right. He'd been attracted to Mary George's exotic beauty and sweet disposition, but he didn't really know her. He'd done the same thing with the gorgeous blonde he'd asked to marry him last year.

It was time he started looking deeper, seeing past just the beauty to something more important. If he did, maybe he'd have better luck with women.

Still he was worried about Mary and Jimmy. He'd hoped the meeting with Carol Johnson, alias Crystal, would be arranged by now. He'd hoped to have something on the Russians he could bring to the captain.

No word from Nick meant neither Crystal nor her friend, Lacey, had called.

The captain's voice jarred him back to the moment. “I want to know what's going on,” Taggart said. “I'm sure you know, and I expect you to tell me.”

Cord sat up a little straighter. “I'm afraid I'm not following, sir.”

“I want to know what's going on with your good friend, Nick Brodie. Last week he was involved in a shoot-out in Fairbanks. On his way back, he stormed in here with a woman, ranting and raving, determined to insinuate himself in the middle of a federal investigation. Not a peep from him since. You're his best friend. I figure you know what he's up to and I want you to tell me what it is.”

Sonofabitch.
He hadn't figured to be asked point blank. He did his best to skirt the question. “As far as I know, he's backed off. At the moment, he isn't doing anything.” No phone call made that statement true. Unfortunately.

“Where is he? I want to talk to him. I sent a car to his house to pick him up but he wasn't there.”

Cord shrugged. “Nick's not a cop anymore. He could be anywhere.”

“What about the woman? Samantha Hollis, Brodie's fiancée?”

“Sorry, he doesn't keep me posted on his love life.”

“Brodie made insinuations against Alexander Evans. Evans's son, Jimmy, and the boy's aunt, Mary George, live next to him up at Fish Lake. They weren't home either. I want to know where they are.”

“From what Nick says, Alex Evans may have been involved with Luka Dragovich. Nick says Mary and Jimmy's lives were threatened. If they've left, wherever they are, they're probably safer than they were before.”

“What's your interest in this, Detective? You realize if you're involved in any way, you could be brought up on charges of interfering with a federal investigation?”

“Look, Captain, at the moment, I don't know where anyone is. And I prefer to keep it that way.”

“Well, I want to know what Brodie's up to. I'm assigning you the task of bringing him in. Arrest him if that's what it takes. If you want to keep your job, you'll make that happen as soon as possible. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Taggart waved his hand toward the door. “You're dismissed.”

Cord clenched his jaw to keep from saying something he'd regret. He knew where Nick was. Hell, he knew where they all were. He just hoped like hell Crystal or Carol or whatever she was calling herself would agree to the meeting. And that if she did, she had the kind of information that would keep them all out of jail.

Because at the moment, it was beginning to look like there was a very good chance they could wind up there.

 

 

Raymond Taggart rubbed the back of his neck, the skin still warm from the anger pumping through him. Who the hell did Brodie think he was? Heading out his office door, he walked down the hall into the detectives' squad room and spotted his quarry behind the computer at his desk, typing up a report.

“Detective Archer, I need to see you in my office.”

Archer surged to his feet. “Yes, sir.” In his early thirties with red hair just beginning to recede and pale blue eyes, the detective was smart and eager to move up through the ranks. Ken Archer knew what needed to be done in order to get ahead.

Raymond strode down the hall back into his office, Archer close on his heels.

“Close the door,” Raymond said.

The detective closed the door and took a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

“You and Reeves are friends, isn't that right?”

“We're friendly, yeah. We've gone fishing a couple of times. Went hunting once.”

“I seem to recall you and another detective talking about a cabin he owns up near Hatcher's Pass.”

“He's got one up there somewhere. I've never been there.”

“I want you to find out where it is. Ask around. Use county records. Whatever it takes. I want the location, and I want it today.”

“No problem. It shouldn't be that tough to find. What's going on?”

“I'm not sure yet, but I intend to find out. Get me that information, Detective. I expect to see it on my desk this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir, Captain.”

Raymond watched the detective leave the office, certain he'd come up with the location. Unlike Reeves and Brodie, Archer knew which side to be on when things got tough.

Raymond's mouth thinned. He'd been called on the carpet by the feds for the debacle in Fairbanks. He wanted Brodie's head for stirring up trouble. He wanted to make sure the bastard didn't cause him any more.

Reeves wasn't the sort to get in your face the way Brodie was, but he could also be a pain in the ass. And they were always looking for ways to circumvent his authority. He wasn't having it this time.

He wasn't letting either of them get away with it.

His neck felt hot again.
Not this time, Brodie.

There was simply too much at stake.

 

 

After a ride on Cord's ATV that took him up the hill but still kept the cabin in sight, Nick walked back into the mudroom. The succulent aroma of a ham-and-cheese casserole hit him so hard his mouth watered.

When his phone started to ring, he frantically dug it out of his pocket and held it against his ear. “Brodie.”

“It's Lacey. Crystal's agreed to meet you. Be at the Eagle's Nest Bar tonight at eleven p.m. It's on Wayburn. You know where that is?”

“I'll find it.”

“Bring the money.” Lacey ended the call. It was four p.m. Thursday afternoon.

Nick stuck the phone back into the pocket of his jeans and looked up to see Samantha standing in the doorway, an apron around her waist, wooden spoon in her hand.

He frowned. “You're supposed to be resting.”

“I'm tired of Campbell's soup and I'm tired of resting. Was that Crystal?”

“That was Lacey. The meeting with Crystal is set for eleven p.m. I need to find the Eagle's Nest Bar. Mind if I use your laptop?”

“It's on the coffee table. Can I go with you?”

“You know you can't.”

She smiled and he felt that little kick. He was beginning to get used to it.

“Just testing,” she said.

He smiled back, went in and Googled the address for the Eagle's Nest Bar. A map popped up. He recognized the area. Blue collar, not too rough. Good entry and exit. A good place to meet.

On Monday, he'd gone to his bank in Wasilla and pulled out five-thousand dollars. Three for Lacey. A couple of thousand in case something unexpected came up. He wasn't hurting for money, and if this worked, it would be worth it.

He phoned Cord as soon as he had the info he needed. “We're on,” he said. “Eleven p.m. tonight. Eagle's Nest Bar.” He gave Cord the address.

“I'll see you there.” Cord hung up the phone. There was an unfamiliar tension in his friend's deep voice. Nick wondered what it was.

“What time is supper?” he asked Samantha, and found himself wandering in her direction.

“Since you need to leave, seven o'clock.”

Knowing he shouldn't, wondering if she would pull away from him the way she had been lately, he moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. When she leaned back against him, he lifted away her hair and nuzzled the nape of her neck.

“I've missed you,” he said.

“I've missed you, too.”

“I'm really sorry about the baby,” he whispered against her ear.

“I know.” She turned into his arms and looked up at him. “Someday, there'll be other children for both of us.”

He frowned. “You're saying that as if we'll be having kids with other people.”

She drew back to look at him. “What did you think, Nick? You know as well as I do, we're too different to make it work. It was just a weekend in Vegas. Nothing more. Someday, we'll each meet someone who suits us better.”

Nick let her go. His heart was beating painfully, his chest clamping down. He wasn't ready to talk about this, wasn't ready to let her go.

“I've got to call Derek,” he said. “He's coming to stay with you and Mary while I'm in town for the meet. I'll get something to eat while I'm there.”

“Nick, wait. That didn't come out the way I meant. Please don't go.”

He just kept walking. Samantha was right. They were nothing alike. Sooner or later it would all go wrong. They didn't belong together.

So why did it feel like they did?