Phantom in the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon
"True, but giving the customer what he pays for is expected. What do you want?" She had some snooping to do, thanks to more data from Sammy. Brady was holding her up.
"Okay, I'll get to the point. Lot of rumors circulating around the DEA on that Drake corpse. My boss and a few others higher up think you're withholding information and either know where the body is or that you know someone who does."
"What!" Who would run with that baseless rumor? Terri tapped her fingers on the car hood, thinking. She stopped tapping. Josie, that wart, was doing this to her.
"Hey, I'm doing all I can to help you, Terri. I've tried to tell my SAC you wouldn't do that, withhold evidence... or protect someone."
"'Protect someone'? Like who?" But she had a feeling about exactly where this was going. Brady expected sympathy from her for problems with the special agent in charge of his division? Wasting his time.
"An informant." His reply hit the air heavy as an albatross and landed between them.
"I am not protecting a criminal, if that's what you're insinuating." Terri shoved away from the car and leaned forward. "I do not know where the Drake body is. I'm not the enemy, dammit." She hit the car body with the flat of her hand. The only informant she could get to talk to her was the man everyone thought was Drake, but she wasn't sharing that.
"Whoa, hold it." Brady lifted his hands in surrender. "I didn't say you were protecting a criminal. I'm on your side. I've been catching hell from my SAC over the body and not getting the tip first on Marseaux's drug haul at the docks."
"I can't help you with the body and don't think you can blame me for not getting the tip first." He could blame her for getting the container snatched out from under the DEA, but she doubted he could find out about Joe's favor.
"Look, Terri. I stood up for you when Conroy was killed, told everyone you were both ambushed."
"I appreciate that, and... I haven't forgotten what you did that night." Terri suffered a wave of remorse. He had shot the guy knifing her.
"I'm not trying to make you feel bad or like you owe me for anything, I just, well, I don't want anything to happen to you, especially after all you've been through. You still mean a lot to me." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looked down, and scuffed his shoe over the gravel as if thinking. When he stopped fidgeting and looked up, the sincerity in Brady's gaze made her feel petty for having avoided him.
"Look, Terri, if you'll work with me and share some information, I'll share what I can, too. That's the only way I can help prevent you taking the rap for the missing body."
She studied the toe of her sneaker this time. If she made a wrong move or trusted the wrong person, again, Josie would destroy what credibility Terri had regained with law enforcement. On the other hand, if she didn't work with Brady, Josie might not have to break a sweat to destroy Terri if the body didn't surface soon.
"What are you going to do about Josie? She's on a witch hunt to get me or Conroy. Can you believe that? If she doesn't prove I was helping Marseaux with shipments, then she's going to hang Conroy with being dirty. And she thinks the Drake body is tied into all of this, even threatened me if I helped you."
Brady cursed and tossed in something derogatory about how he had nothing for women raised with silver spoons in their mouths. "Her only investment in any case is if it will get her promoted. And she wouldn't have the chance she has now if you were still with the DEA. She can't hold a candle to your marksmanship or investigative skills. But she'll be out of your hair for a day or two." He grinned. "She just got a hot tip about the Drake body being held in a Baton Rouge funeral home."
Terri held her smile over the "hot tip" that Brady must have orchestrated. She appreciated the plug about her skills, but Josie was no slouch. "So we've got a day or so before she figures out someone sent her on a wild-goose chase?"
"Right."
"Okay, what do you want from me?"
"I need to know what was in that container." He gave her a pointed look. "The DEA should have gotten it first."
"Please, don't expect any sympathy from me over the DEA losing that pissing contest."
Brady held up his hand in a sign of truce. "Let's agree to disagree. I need something to appease them over the missing body so my boss believes I'm still on top of this case."
"You haven't told me what case yet," she pointed out.
He stared hard, an intimidating gaze if she didn't know him so well. "We're still after Marseaux, but unlike when you were on the case, now it's about more than just drugs. We think he's supplying arms to a terrorist group or funding them in exchange for better international connections. I'm coordinating efforts with the ATF."
She nodded and made understanding noises to let him think this was new information for her. So the DEA was after the same thing as BAD.
"Okay, your turn," he said. "I don't see any harm in letting me know what the NOPD finds out in the container, or anything else related, since I'll eventually see it in a report. But having it before the report to discuss only with my SAC would be a huge help for me."
Terri tapped a finger against her car's shiny paint job, thinking. What would be the problem in sharing nonclassified information with him if it meant getting a few snippets from the DEA? None she could see. One thing BAD had taught her was that rules had to be bent occasionally for the greater good.
"Okay," Terri agreed. "The coke shipment was sealed inside a frame of steel tubing welded together, which formed a crate for a generator. The night I went to inspect the contents before the crime lab showed up to dust, someone had broken in ahead of me arriving. I surprised him."
"You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"No." She squirmed under his concern. The only way she could work with Brady at this point was if they kept it strictly professional. "I don't think he got anything." She paused. That was enough to share for now.
"When will the container be released to the DEA?"
Not until she gave the NOPD the go-ahead. "I don't know, but I'll check on that for you."
"Good enough." Brady glanced over his shoulder when a squad car rolled in and parked near the building, then he turned back to her. "Want to grab a bite?"
"Sorry, I need to get moving and do a few things at home." Terri cringed inwardly at the brief flash of hurt in Brady's face, but he masked it just as quickly and kissed her on the cheek.
"Just as well, since I need to get back. We'll talk more later." He walked to his car.
Terri waited for Brady to leave before heading to her next destination, one she wasn't sharing with anyone. Just as she pulled out to leave, Sammy came through the back door of the building, muttering something to himself or maybe the ground since his head was down.
She chuckled. What could have made Mr. Sunshine cranky? Terri stopped her car in his path.
Sammy's head jerked up and the angry eyes of a man ready to use his outdoor language met hers until recognition took over. He came around to her open window.
"What's got you riled up?" she asked, smiling.
"Sorry about that face." He shook his head, then leaned an arm against the roof of her car and groused, "I've got the midnight-to-seven graveyard shift tonight guarding that damn container. And tomorrow night and this weekend at night."
"I thought Taggart was on the night shift."
"He was, but that old fool must have took a liking to something. The captain had some dude come by from the shipping office to verify the contents and the guy went ballistic when he found stuff missing that our techs had inventoried."
"Like what?" She considered going ballistic, too, but not on Sammy. She wanted Taggart's head for tampering with the contents. "What is Taggart saying?"
"I don't know what he got. Taggart swears he hasn't touched a thing. Reminded the captain that container had already been broken into so anyone could have taken some of the contents, yada, yada, yada. Don't say anything. Captain swore me to secrecy. He's pissed, but he doesn't want Taggart to get fired and lose his pension. Captain said he thinks
She sympathized with Sammy, but the captain was right to put someone capable on guard. "This interfere with a hot date?"
"Not unless you're going out with me." Sammy grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
He was a cutie and charming, but teasing her. "I'm flattered, but old enough to be your... big sister."
Sammy grinned. "I do have a honey. Been dating her about six months. Thinking about poppin' the question next week on her birthday."
"Good for you. She's a lucky girl and you better make sure I get an invitation." Terri suffered a flash of longing for what those two had. She'd never felt that strong attraction to any man.
Until she'd met a phantom in the night.
That was wrong with a capital W.
"You will. See you tomorrow." He strolled away toward a cruiser.
Terri wheeled out of the lot and worked her way to Interstate 10, then picked up Interstate 610 and headed west. Twenty minutes later she exited just past the airport and followed her GPS directions to the address on her sheet in an industrial area. She found a place to park in the lot of an equipment rental business closed for the night.
A thin sheet of light hovered. She backed her car into a concealed spot beside a flatbed truck and locked up, then stretched her legs before skirting carefully along to the next block. Cars and pickups streamed by in short bursts. When she reached the corner of a lot speckled with a few oak and scrub pines, Terri picked her way through weeds until she paused at a tree next to a chain-link fence surrounding the property of a shipping company. One with ties to Marseaux, if the information Sammy's detective friend had shared was correct.
She considered all the possible ways someone would be alerted to her presence and concluded the worst danger would be hidden trip wires to a silent alarm.
Pulling a navy blue knit cap from her purse, she put it on her head, stuffing her blonde curls inside. Terri scanned the terrain one more time before she scooted from the tree and squatted down at the base of the ten-foot-high security fence.
The front office area was dark, the empty parking lot closed for the day. But lights shined in the yard behind the building. Working through knee-high weeds, she finally made her way to a row of overgrown bushes she could hide behind. She grunted over the discomfort and inched forward until she could see the activity inside the secured shipping yard.
Men moved around on a dock. Two seemed to be loading a wooden crate.
Her only problem was the distance from the dock did not allow her to hear anything, but this had been spur of the moment. After tonight, she'd have a list of equipment to bring back for surveillance. To reach a better spot she'd have to cross a section of land with no bushes to shield her from view.
What were the odds of making that sixty-foot span and not being seen? Not bad if she could crawl low enough to be hidden by the weeds. She leaned forward on her knees, preparing to crawl. Please don't let there be snakes in this grass.
"Don't," whispered a low male voice so close she almost came out of her skin.
Terri froze, panting. Her heart beat fast as a drum roll. She swung around slowly to find a hooded male hunched close to her. His face was covered by a black stocking mask, which should have rattled her even further... if she hadn't realized who he was.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed.
"I'll tell you if you tell me why you're here," he answered.
"No. Leave." What was with the men in her life?
"No. You leave."
"What are we? Four? I don't have time for this."
"Yes, you do. Even if you reach the far side of the fence where you can hear better, then what?"
How did he know what she was doing? "I'm not sharing my plan with you."
"Because you don't have one."
"Do not make light of my abilities."
"I'm not, but I am questioning your common sense by coming here without backup."
He had her there, but she'd be damned if she was going to admit it to a man she couldn't call by name.
Someone on the dock shouted.
Terri turned to see and was hauled backwards against a hard chest before she could look.
"Want to get your head blown off?"
So now he's angry? "Not particularly." She started to say more, but felt his heart thundering behind her, his muscles tense beneath the T-shirt fitted to his wide chest.
He curled his body, drawing her closer to him until his warm breath whooshed over the skin at her throat. He quietly said, "One of the men on the dock has a scope on his rifle. If you'd moved another fraction past the bush, he might have seen you."
"A damn eagle couldn't have seen my head with a cap on it in this little light."
"I wasn't willing to take the risk of being right."
He'd been afraid for her?
That was... nice. Her insides turned gooey. His arms held her close, safe. Terri tried to recall when she'd last felt safe in anyone's arms. She'd been wary as a wild dog when Grandma took her in, afraid to trust anyone. Her mother had been gunned down in the middle of the nightwrong place, wrong timewhile in the arms of a man she'd cared for.
The vigilante shooter thought he was killing a man who had murdered his boyfriend. During interrogation, the shooter claimed he had no idea the bullets he'd pumped into a man in bed had killed the womanTerri's mothersleeping beneath the sheets. Or that the man had been an undercover cop trying to find the real murderer.
Much as Terri would like to indulge in a decadent feeling of being held safely within this man's arms, if only for a short while, she had a job to do. Wrong place. Wrong time.
He relaxed his hold, but not to the point of releasing her. "If you go, I'll share what I find out tonight. Promise."
Why did she have to go? "We are not negotiating."
His sigh was loaded with frustration. He muttered, "You're making me crazy."
She smiled over the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you tone. Fair enough, since he was making her crazy. "What if I don't go?"
"Then you'll be an accessory to the fact and, no, I'm not going to tell you what you would be an accessory to. What did you hope to get out of this tonight?"
"Just observing."
"Then do as I ask and I'll give you more information than you would have gotten from outside the fence and without getting hurt. But you don't want to be here tonight."
"Why can't you tell me what you're going to do?" She twisted to face him. The night had snuck up so there was little to see, even with the overflow of light from the security halogens that had blinked on in the yard.
He shook his head. "That would be almost as wrong as taking you inside with me."
"You're going inside?"
Another sigh filled with impatience. "See? Now you know what I'm going to do."
She shivered over the idea of him going inside and possibly getting hurt. Or worse.
He rubbed her arms.
Damn, damn, damn. She wanted to drag him away from here, protect him from himself. "Do you have a death wish?"
"Not anymore."
What was that supposed to mean? Terri ran through several possible scenarios, but she was not going inside there and did not want to be an accessory to a crime, regardless that the crime was against a drug-dealing scumbag.
"Okay, I'll go," she finally agreed. "But I wish you would, too."
"Then we'd never see the end of this and the sooner this mess is done, the sooner I can get around to something I want to do. Let's go. Crawl on all fours. It's easier on your leg than squatting," He didn't give her a chance for another word when he took her hand and pulled her along.
Terri kept up with him as he wove her back to the road a different way. How well did he know this place? When they stood up, he caught her around the waist with his hand and guided her across the street... to her car.
So he'd followed her? Where was his car?
Several paces before her car, she noticed the
"What is it you want to get around to doing?" she asked.
The squeal of tires turning into the parking lot raked her nerves. Before she could say, "Hide," she was plastered against the wall and her lips covered by a mouth so incredibly hot she thought her lips would melt. He kissed her without abandon. She kissed him right back, hungry for what he offered. A hand cupped her bottom and lifted her up against him.
Scratch that. Lifted her against his erection.
He drove his fingers into her hair, holding her close, deepening the kiss.
Don't stop, please don't stop.
Her hands roamed his chest and shoulders, then cupped his head. She wanted to pull off the hood, feel his hair and face, but not enough to chance ending the kiss.
The fingers driving through her hair smoothed along her neck and down between them to cover her breast.
She tensed with the zing of heat that pulsed from her nipples to her groin and shuddered every time his fingers moved.
"Get a room," someone yelled from a passing car. Loud music blared. What sounded like a beer can hit the wall ten feet away, then loud laughter as the car cruised through the lot.
That should have brought her back to earth, but she couldn't break loose mentally or physically. She clutched his shoulder, and arched up, groaning at the feel of him.
She wanted that, wanted him.
He stopped. Stopped!
"They're gone. Let's go," he croaked, sounding winded. Had kissing her been that tiring?
A lightbulb of understanding blinked on in her mind. He'd only kissed her to hide their faces. Obviously he'd missed the connection she'd felt.
Next thing she knew, he was dragging her along in the dark again. She stifled the urge to scream.
Yeah, everything about that kiss was stupid, because he could be dangerous. But if he was going to hurt her he'd had plenty of opportunity.
They were almost to her car when a sharp cramp in her thigh caught her out of step. She tripped and he swung around, catching her before she went down. The man had lightning reflexes.
"Sorry. I should have been more careful." He stood still, breathing hard. She didn't think it had anything to do with physical exertion, so maybe he had been just as affected by the kiss. Talk about a heady feeling.