Chasing Silver (9 page)

The more she spoke, the faster her words came, though even she seemed to realize her answers were coming out in a jumble. “Maybe this would be easier if you asked me direct questions. Otherwise you’re going to get my entire biog, and I can’t think of a single reason why you’d want that.”

Nathan thought of several reasons why he’d want her biog, but now wasn’t the time for an in-depth interview. “So, you broke into…Henryk’s house to steal the coins as revenge. You grab a handful. Kirsten gets a piece of you and then, poof?”

Remy nodded.

“So we start with the coins. What are they, where they came from, what the engravings mean, previous owners.” He almost couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was going to investigate this. He was going to research and interview someone and treat it like a case. The warm, electric feeling he always got before a new hunt, a new mystery, a new puzzle, already sizzled away in his gut at the thought of it.

Her hand shot out and caught his wrist when he began to reach for the other coins. Nathan looked up and saw her dark eyes fixed on him.

“You could still kick me out.” The shock in her voice gave it unexpected strength. “Why aren’t you?”

He had two choices, but only one option. “You could be crazy. You could be telling the truth. But it doesn’t harm me to check out both possibilities and get a confirmation either way, does it?” But Nathan saw the answer didn’t quite satisfy her. “Because I don’t want you to leave.”

The disbelief held in her face for another second. Then a brilliant smile lit her up, dispelling much of the sobriety that had shrouded her since he walked in. In a flash, Remy was straddling him, arms around his neck, hot mouth raining kisses across his brow and down to his jaw. “You have no idea how scared I was. I didn’t want to think last night was all in my head.”

Nathan returned the embrace, happy to hold her. Whatever had happened during the night, they had both felt it. It wasn’t just a strong physical reaction. It wasn’t chemicals and blood reacting to certain stimuli. Even now, even with no secrets between their bodies, he wanted to explore her with his mouth and hands, to be as close to her as possible, touch as much of her as he could, taste the salt on her skin.

“We’ll get to the bottom of what happened to you,” Nathan promised around her hungry mouth. He still hadn’t ruled out the crazy option. He knew she could be caught in an elaborate fantasy. But hadn’t it been his job, his very life’s work, to gather evidence? To analyze, and verify, and investigate?

But what if you’re wrong again? Remy seems handy with a knife. Do you want to risk it? Again?

She broke from the kissing to twist and reach for the coin she’d discarded. “Let’s start with this one.” She pressed it into his palm. “This was the last one I took, and I dropped it right before everything went tits up. I stopped running, picked it up out of the grass, and the next thing I know, I’m here. It could be a coincidence, but at least it’s a place to start, right?”

Nathan thought it was an excellent idea. The coin was the most distinctive of her little collection. It felt cool initially, but after a second, it began to warm. He pulled away before it became uncomfortable, but there was a distinctive pink circle on his flesh. Gingerly, he reached for it with his other hand and held it by the edges to inspect it more carefully. People would remember it, and if the dealers he spoke to didn’t know it, he had no doubt they’d be willing to do a bit of research for him. For a price.

“Yeah, we’ll start there. We can start with the coin and antique shops. There’s an occult shop in Santa Monica. Might as well cover all our bases.”

Remy seemed pleased with his suggestion, but before she expressed her support, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them. “Christ!” Nathan shouted. “What do you want now?” But he knew the answer as soon as he asked. He had never checked in with Isaac. “Oh hell.”

“Does he do this every day?” Remy complained when he pushed her off his lap. “Because let me tell you, if he does? He needs to seriously get laid.”

“No, he doesn’t do this every day. But he needs to get laid anyway.” Nathan opened the door with a guilty smile, but he didn’t expect Isaac to look quite so worried. “Did you bring bagels today?”

The first thing Isaac did was look over Nathan’s shoulder. “Is that girl still here?” His voice was so hushed Nathan had to strain to hear him.

“Yes.” One glimpse of Isaac’s face was all it took to know he wasn’t here on a social call. He wasn’t even here to talk about Tian. The deep furrows on his forehead and the lines around his bloodshot eyes said he had something far heavier on his mind. Nathan stepped out of the apartment and shut the door behind him. “What is it?”

Rubbing his hand over his hair, Isaac sighed before answering. “You’ve got to let me take her in. Something’s going on, and until I get it figured out, I’ll sleep a hell of a lot better knowing she’s not anywhere near you.”

Nathan’s heart stopped. He wanted to tell Isaac no, it wasn’t going to happen. All he mustered was a single word. “Why?”

“Someone showed up at the precinct last night looking for her. Knew her name, knew what she looked like.” If it was possible, his eyes grew even more serious. “She even knew Remy had been with a British guy with an old Mustang two nights ago. At a gas station. Did you stop somewhere between the warehouse and coming home?”

Nathan frowned. “Yes. We stopped for food at the 7-Eleven off Oak.” He leaned against the railing. “But how could anybody track us to that particular gas station and not, say, the one across the street? Isaac, what was this woman’s name? Was it Kirsten?”

It was his friend’s turn to frown. “How’d you know her name? Has she been around here?” He held up a warning finger before Nathan replied. “Don’t let her in again, if she shows. Her story isn’t checking. That’s part of what I’m trying to figure out.”

Nathan almost laughed. Of course, Kirsten’s story wasn’t checking. It was probably just as farfetched as Remy’s. “No, she hasn’t been here. But somebody tried to slice and dice Remy, and she’s got the injuries to prove it. She claims a woman named Kirsten is responsible.” He thought about everything Remy had told him, picking out small details from each conversation. “She doesn’t know Kirsten is here. She thinks it’s over.”

“Oh, it’s not over. I haven’t seen anyone this determined to catch someone since Tian slipped through your fingers the first time.” Isaac’s gaze grew speculative. “She was good, I’ll give her that. I almost didn’t check her creds, she was so convincing. Everything she said seemed to fit. How Remy was part of a gang back in D.C. How dangerous she was. Good with weapons. The only thing that didn’t fit was she didn’t even mention those coins you showed me yesterday. That’s why I checked her out.”

Nathan thought every word Kirsten told Isaac was the truth. It made sense. Remy’s insistence that she “didn’t damsel,” her references to the safe house, the way she didn’t hesitate to attack Cesar, even going as far as to apologize for not getting both of them. Remy was no stranger to violence.

“I can’t let you take her in, Isaac. But you’re right. We need to figure out what’s going on before we get caught in the crossfire.” Nathan shifted the topic to something safer. “Things did not go as planned last night. Tian knew right where to find me.” He shook his head. “And I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t Remy.”

“And you’re sure of this because…?”

“She put a knife in Cesar’s back instead of my throat.”

The announcement caught Isaac by surprise, his shoulders lifting for the first time since arriving. “You’re kidding me.” When Nathan shook his head again, Isaac whistled low under his breath. “Nobody’s got a piece of Cesar in years. How the hell did she do it?”

“Quietly. Cesar and Tian were more caught up in taunting me than paying attention to their surroundings. She was practically on top of them when she threw the knife. They had backup in a nearby car. As soon as Cesar went down, they fled. I imagine one of their goons saw me in the parking lot and tipped them off.”

Isaac’s eyes flickered to the closed door. “This doesn’t make me feel any better about her, you know. I thought we’d learned our lesson with Susanna.”

Nathan paused, the full weight of Isaac’s concern finally hitting him. Isaac never spoke her name, if he could help it. Neither of them did. “I know. But I don’t know what to do. I’ve thought more about her in the past twenty-four hours than I have in the past two years. I wish I could tell you to just trust me on this, but we both know you don’t have any reason to.”

“If it was anything but a girl, you know I’d trust you without hesitating.”

His voice was low, his tone resigned. When he moved next to Nathan to lean against the railing as well, though, he couldn’t quite meet Nathan’s eyes. Both of them were too busy staring at the apartment, both of them lost in thoughts about the woman on the other side of the wall. “Want to tell me what it is about this one? Other than the obvious reasons, of course.”

“I don’t know.” Nathan would have liked nothing more than to tell Isaac why he was willing to take such a huge chance on Remy. He longed to describe the conversation they had just had, and his reaction to her announcement. He wished he could tell somebody what happened, somebody who could make sense of what was going on. “I don’t know. I felt something with her last night I haven’t…it’s like I already knew her on some level. Knew who she was. Which doesn’t help my case, I know.”

Isaac didn’t answer, but Nathan didn’t know what he could have said under the circumstances anyway. Together, they continued to regard the closed door, neither seemingly willing to move.

“Would you at least let me run her prints? Someone like that has to exist someplace, even if Kirsten Henryk isn’t telling me the whole story about where.”

There was no reason not to agree. “We can have a Live Scan done this morning. She won’t like it, but she’s going to have to deal with it, I guess. You find out what you can about her prints and Kirsten Henryk, and I’ll see what I can learn from Remy this afternoon. We’ll compare notes tonight. Oh. I also have a good sample of blood. You can take it in and see what the lab says.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Pushing away from the rail, Isaac gave him one last lingering look before heading toward the stairs. “We can meet for dinner at the Barn. It’s all you can eat rib night. Bring Remy.” He paused, one foot on the first step. While his tone was light, his eyes were not. “And try not to get yourself killed before then.”

Isaac only made it a couple stairs before stopping and turning. “One more thing. Turns out, the way Remy talks is an East Coast thing. Kirsten Henryk called something ‘royal’ when we were talking.” He shrugged. “Guess you learn something new every day.”

“I guess so,” Nathan was tempted to tell Isaac it wasn’t an East Coast thing at all. But he couldn’t get into that, not right now. “Funny we never heard it before.”

“Oh, it’ll probably turn up out here sooner or later. They probably picked it up from a TV show we never have time to watch.” Isaac resumed going down the stairs. “See you tonight.”

Nathan nodded, watching as Isaac took the stairs two a time, then disappeared around the corner. His head was spinning, and he needed to be alone, to have a bit of quiet to piece everything together. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Before he could even consider having a quiet moment to himself, he needed to tell Remy about Kirsten.

Remy couldn’t get Kirsten out of her head. Ever since Nathan had come back inside after talking to his cop friend, she’d been consumed with worry about how this would change things, how it could have happened, why she couldn’t manage to catch a break no matter what she did. When he asked to let Isaac print her, she agreed without hesitation. It would be one more reason for him to believe her story when nothing came back as a match.

It didn’t ease her anxiety about Kirsten, though. Even knowing she had Nathan sticking up for her with Isaac, Remy couldn’t get away from the very real fear that things were going to go from bad to catastrophic as soon as Kirsten found her.

Once they left the police station, Nathan angled the Mustang toward Santa Monica and the tiny occult shop he thought might be their best bet in discovering the origins of the coin. He had been quiet ever since telling her about Kirsten, and the silence was beginning to wear. Though she didn’t want to bother him any more than she already had, the fact he could be sitting there, making judgments about her that were very likely valid, gnawed at Remy’s stomach. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he believe her? Did he trust her? Did he think this was all some kind of gift?

She couldn’t ask. She had already asked for too much.

An accident slowed traffic to a crawl. The air within the car grew heavier with each passing minute, until finally, Remy couldn’t take the confusion of her thoughts any longer. “So how long have you known Isaac?” she asked, shifting in her seat to face Nathan. Conversation about anything that wasn’t Kirsten could only be good.

“I guess it’s been about twelve years now.” He sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe that much time had passed. “We were partners for seven years, until I quit the force.”

She was dying to ask him why he quit, but the tight set of his mouth and the memory of how he’d reacted the last time the subject had come up had Remy stomping that urge into the dust. Instead, she smiled and swept her gaze over him in a frank appraisal.

“And how does a British guy get to be a cop?”

Nathan shrugged. “It’s not a terribly interesting story, though I never planned to be a cop. My father married an American when I was fifteen. Candace was in London on a temporary work assignment, and when she returned to the States, she brought us with her. My mother was American too, so I already had dual citizenship. Once I turned eighteen, I decided to stay in California for school. I developed an interest in sociology, which led to criminology.”

It might not have been interesting to him, but the prospect of living overseas had fantasies tumbling inside Remy’s mind faster than the images could settle. Already, this was better than brooding on Kirsten. “Are they still around? Or did your old man whisk her back to jolly old England?”

“They live in Palm Springs,” Nathan answered mildly. “I guess Dad never wanted to experience temperatures below eighty degrees again.”

“Can’t say I blame him.” She looked out the window, at the crystal blue skies overhead. It still shocked her to see such vivid brightness.

The absurdity of their conversation struck her as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but when Nathan glanced curiously in her direction, her slight chuckle turned into audible laughter. “We’re talking about the weather,” she offered in explanation. “I mean, I can’t figure out how I’m going to shake Kirsten, and here we are, discussing the benefits of living in California.” She shook her head. “That’s weird, even for me.”

“There are many benefits to living in California.” As the car moved forward a foot, Nathan sighed. “However, the freeway system is not one of them. Well, you more or less know my life story now. What about yours?”

Remy shrugged. “Boring. My parents split up when I was born, and then my mom took off when I was fourteen. I’ve been pretty much on my own since then. The state tried to stick me in foster homes, but none of them took. So I tested out to get them off my back. Once I got my equivalency, it was hard for them to use my education as a reason to keep me in the system.”

“Not boring. More common than it should be. I can’t even tell you how many times I saw something like your story play out. What did you do after the state got off your back?”

“Anything I could.” It was pointless to try and whitewash her past. Remy was convinced Kirsten had been more than blunt with the details she’d shared. “I bounced around a lot until about four years ago. That’s when I fell into a gang that didn’t expect me to sell myself in order to have a place.” She looked out her window, unwilling to see the disappointment in his face. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but that is not one of them.”

Silence met her words. She didn’t know what he was thinking, and she didn’t risk a glance over her shoulder. The soft brush of his knuckles against her cheek shocked her, but she still didn’t look at him. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her neck and shoulders before he pulled away. “So they became your family.” His voice was gentle, free of condemnation. “And now they’re gone because of this Kirsten Henryk?”

“Yeah.” When the tears sprang to her eyes, Remy didn’t know if it was because of the sudden memory of what she’d lost or Nathan’s unexpected tenderness. Either way, she kept her face averted while she rubbed the traces of them away.

So much for not thinking about Kirsten. But better to get this out now before the truth came back to haunt her later.

“She’s a cop,” Remy explained. “But her dad’s one of the most twisted senators on the Hill, and he likes to use her as his personal bulldog. We never knew why, but he targeted my gang about a year ago. Kirsten started hunting us down, one by one. A group of us tried going legit, but that wasn’t good enough, and we ended up going underground to try and stay alive.” She could still smell the smoke and burning flesh from the fires, and a rash of goose bumps erupted along her bare arms. “It didn’t work.”

“If you’re worried she’s going to finish the job here, don’t. Isaac isn’t going to tell her anything. And if she does manage to track you down…” Nathan didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to.

The implied threat against Kirsten shook Remy even more than his gentle reaction earlier. There was no doubt in her mind he would do exactly that. He would stand in front of Remy and shoot point blank at anybody who dared to attack her. It was the why of it she didn’t understand.

Why did she trust Nathan? Why did he trust her? Why would he be so protective of her, even with the partner and friend he’d had for twelve years? Why did the thought of Kirsten hurting Nathan fill her with such dread?

She wasn’t accustomed to having a world in such turmoil. In D.C., life was simple. Everything was about survival. Staying ahead of the Henryks. She had worried about her adopted family then, too, but once they had been slaughtered, Remy had closed off her heart. It was too hard to think you could make a difference, only to lose in the home stretch. She wasn’t going to watch people she cared about die again.

How had Nathan fallen into that category so swiftly?

“So has Oakland ever made it to the Super Bowl?”

The question came out of the blue, and Remy grinned at how absurd it was in the grand scheme of things. “Football’s not my sphere. But the Super Bowl’s still around, if that means anything.”

“Well, I guess I won’t ask about the World Series, then. Unless baseball is your…sphere?” He flashed a grin at her. “What’s the deal with cars? I’m thinking your reaction to my Mustang wasn’t because of the paint job.”

“More eco-conscious. You have to have special tags for gas-powered cars.” Remy laughed. “When I couldn’t find one on your plate, I figured I could trust someone who didn’t give a fuck for legal. Guess I got that wrong, huh?”

“You can still trust me, though.”

Her smile softened. “I know.”

Nathan tapped the wheel thoughtfully. “What about that chip? Was it just for tracking, or did they use it for…behavior modification as well?”

“You watch too many movies. It’s mostly just for ID. They tried making them street common, but they’re not cheap and people screamed about Big Brother and all that shit. So the only ones holding aces for them are juvies, cons, immigrants and legals, federal employees—” She paused, a sudden thought striking her. “Kirsten has one. Here.” She pointed to the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb. “Cops have them in their hands because they have to have them scanned all the time. Instead of carrying badges.”

Nathan shook his head. “I’d rather just deal with the inconvenience of holding a badge.”

The memory of his reaction to her chip made her pause. “Does mine bother you?”

“No. Well, the idea of a chip bothers me. For a lot of reasons.” He touched her hand. “But it’s not a big deal. I would just be one of those people screaming about Big Brother.”

Lacing her fingers through his, she watched him divert his attention back to the moving traffic. She knew how much had to be going through his head, but the fact of the matter was Nathan looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, a long hand resting on the wheel, his mouth soft and at ease. In that moment, all the questions that had plagued her almost seemed inconsequential. It didn’t matter why they were together, at all.

Just that they’d somehow managed to find each other, amidst all the chaos that could have kept them apart.

The traffic didn’t thin once they exited, but Remy figured that was because the day was gloriously beautiful. Santa Monica sparkled. Beautiful men and women with tan, taut bodies lined every sidewalk, while slender teenage girls with wide smiles and blond hair navigated through the mayhem. Nathan patiently moved down narrow streets to a dark parking garage, fishing out a handful of ones to hand to the parking attendant.

“Eight dollars,” he muttered. “Better be worth it.”

Her eyes shot to him as he maneuvered into a tight space. “You’re not having doubts, are you?”

“What? No.” He slid the parking pass onto the dashboard. “I just hate paying this ridiculous price for parking. It’s the biggest scam in the city.”

As he led her through the murk out into the brilliant sunshine, Remy had to bite her tongue to keep from teasing him further. Eight dollars for parking? If Nathan had any idea how much it cost in D.C. in seventy-five years, he’d probably have a heart attack.

She couldn’t help but glance at all the people they passed as they made their way to the shop. While many of them had to be tourists, there were enough on the perfect end of the spectrum to be considered locals. Self-consciously, she pulled herself straighter, tugging at the bottom of her top as if that would make her stomach look flatter.

“Is this guy buying any of the other coins? Because I’m thinking we can use the money right about now.”

“I’m sure he’ll make an offer we can’t refuse,” Nathan said, his hand a light touch against the small of her back. He guided her down the busy block, expertly winding his way through the crowd, to a shop so small she wouldn’t even have noticed it. The narrow door and blackened window were wedged between a juice bar and a Starbucks.

Cold air blasted across her cheeks as soon as she stepped through the door, and Remy paused in the entrance to let the fan overhead blow across her sweaty shoulders. She hadn’t realized how hot she was until faced with the alarming difference in temperature, but when she caught Nathan’s amused glance, she hastily moved on, flushing with embarrassment.

The shop was even smaller inside, glass-covered shelves lining each of the walls. Dust clung to every crack, but when she stepped close enough to try and peer through the grimy glass, the assortment of oddities on the other side made her wrinkle her nose. All that was missing were the monkey paws and shrunken heads.

Nathan was not fazed. He went straight to the low counter and rang the bell sitting next to the register. Through the door on the rear wall, a tiny Hispanic man with a humped back scurried in, but the moment he saw who his customer was, his lined face lit up and a fluent torrent of Spanish came flooding out of his mouth.

Her brows shot up when she heard Nathan respond in the same language.
Huh. Is there anything he can’t do?

Remy couldn’t follow the conversation at all, but she caught the gist. Nathan handed the other man the silver coin, his brow furrowed, his words soft. The shopkeeper nodded enthusiastically and, after pulling on a pair of latex gloves, took the coin. She watched, fascinated, while he put it beneath a piece of paper and rubbed a pencil against it. As soon as he passed it back, Nathan fished out two of the smaller, silver coins and slid them across the table.

The atmosphere seemed tense, even solemn, as the man put on a pair of thick glasses and studied the coins. After several beats he looked up and said what sounded like a number. Nathan smiled and nodded. As the little man scuttled into the back room again, Nathan looked over his shoulder and asked, “So…you want to go shopping?”

*   *   *

After the mall’s air conditioning, the sun felt glorious on her chilled skin, prickling it to life as she leaned against the pier’s railing. Remy pushed her new sunglasses more firmly into place, then tilted her head back to expose as much of her face and neck to the heat as possible. Her long hair tickled down her spine. A contented sigh escaped her parted lips.

A low chuckle alerted her to Nathan’s arrival, but she didn’t turn around as his arm wrapped around her waist. Pulling her against his chest, he gently kicked the bags at her feet with the toe of his boot. “You didn’t spend all that money, did you?”

Remy nestled into him, relishing how he tightened his arm when the space between them lessened. “Not even close.” Her fingers strayed up and down his strong forearm. “What have you been up to? Get an answer yet about the coin?”

“No. Manuel said he’d ring as soon as he had the answer. Knowing him, that means we can expect a call at three in the morning.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with you.”

She stiffened. Twisting in his arms, Remy looked up into Nathan’s face, wishing he didn’t wear sunglasses that hid his eyes from her. “What do you mean?”