Phantom in the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Terri schooled her expression to cool professional, but her stomach knotted over how Brady and his team were putting two and two together. She should be thankful for whatever reason had delayed the prison paperwork or Brady would have figured this out sooner.
Brady wasn't through. "If we're figuring right, then we're dealing with someone who has Special Force skills and a vendetta against anyone he considers at fault for his brother's death. Dangerous mix."
She swallowed the lump of anxiety threatening to suffocate her. The Nathan she'd gotten close to was not a vigilante. He was doing...
What?
Tracking down people involved in his brother's death.
Of course, she'd never clarified what Nathan was going to do once he had that evidence.
Terri felt the need to point out something, but kept her tone clinical. "You said Nathan was MIA or went AWOL, take your pick, to come home and care for his sick mother. So now you're saying he took his brother's place in prison, did two years?"
"Sounds pretty noble out of context, but the bodies are piling up so I'm just looking at the evidence with an objective eye."
That hit home. Spending the night wrapped in Nathan's arms sort of undermined any hope of objectivity. "I suppose you have a point."
"Terri, this guy was a killing machine before he went into prison. Think that softened his personality at all? No. He's out for blood. Once he finds out I cut the deal with his brother, I'll probably be next." Brady shrugged, but sent her a quick glance. His eyes searched hers for a reaction. Sympathy?
"I think" What? That Brady was wrong because she'd slept with Nathan and that proved his innocence? Worse. She cared for Nathan. What a mess. Brady was waiting for her to finish her sentence."we should consolidate efforts so we can find this guy killing people." Whoever he was.
"Me, too, but I want you to be careful. I'm worried you're not just working on a drug case, something that could get you hurt."
"Why do you say that?"
"I know about the break-in at the container and the missing NOPD officer."
Nothing leaks faster than news around a police station. "What's that got to do with this?"
"Okay, here's why I didn't let Donnie come in here with us. I'm going to square with you. Remember the virus outbreak in South America two years ago?"
She nodded.
"Those deaths match the ones in the Congo last year and India this week, I have a contact that believes those outbreaks are related and thinks it may be some sort of biological testing, I need any information that might be related, no matter how obscure."
Just what Conroy had feared, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Brady. When Brady shot the killer and went to call for an ambulance, she'd crawled over to Conroy, who had lost so much blood she couldn't see the wounds. She'd held him close, knowing he wasn't going to make it.
Conroy had whispered, "Tell... no one... not even... Brady."
She'd given Conroy her word, so she now said, "I wish I had something to tell you, but I don't."
"What about the container breach?"
"You're right, someone got into the container," she admitted. No point in protecting that.
"Rumor has it that some of the shipment was already missing," Brady leveled her with a don't-bullshit-me gaze.
How much had he heard about the missing materials? Did he know about the teak tools or was he fishing for more information?
She shrugged, "Philborn doesn't tell me everything. How do you think any of this is connected?"
Lines creased Brady's forehead. Not entirely satisfied with that answer, "I might know by now if this Drake guy wasn't shutting down informants. If we end up with a viral outbreak, he's at fault for holding up my investigation."
"That's a stretch." Too fast and too defensive yet again. She clamped her lips shut.
"He's going after everyone connected to Marseaux. Word on the street is to hide until he's caught or killed, so our intel is drying up faster than rain in the Sahara." Brady raised his hands in a dismissive gesture as he paced back and forth. "We may have a national threat brewing with no way of determining what it is, where it will happen, when it will happen, or who is behind it. The longer this damn vigilante is loose, the harder it's going to be to find answers."
She had to do something and everything came back to the contents in that shipping container. If Brady was right, the stolen contents might be the key to all of this. Had Taggart stolen something that would offer a clue? She had to find out, and soon. With so many innocent lives at stake, speed and efficiency counted right now, but Conroy's dire warning not to trust anyone tripped up her urge to tell Brady more.
So what had Brady come hoping to gain from this meeting? "What can I do to help?"
He swung an assessing stare her way that had caused others to squirm, but she returned his level gaze until he broke eye contact and spoke. "Let me know when you get any lead on Drake, regardless of which brother it's about."
"I'll dig around and see what I can find." She reached for the doorknob.
Brady nodded and walked out the door she'd opened.
Terri had to find Taggart and determine if he had some of that teak tool shipment.
But first she had to speak to Nathan. She had questions for him. What she did about him after that depended on his answers.
Putting herself on the line was one thing.
She couldn't allow a vigilante to put innocent citizens at risk.
Terri plopped down at her desk. Her car keys and cell phone sat on top of a stack of files with a note from the mechanic saying he figured she was looking for the phone and the car was ready. She flipped the phone open thatyay!appeared to function. The voicemail was filled with one terse message after another from Nathan, then one from Grandma, who had called to say she was feeling a little under the weather and might come home early, but not to worry. She hoped Terri was doing something besides working all night.
If Grandma only knew.
That call had come through over an hour ago. She wished Grandma had called the house or the station. Grandma had both numbers. Terri tried her grandmother's cell number and got her voicemail. She shouldn't stress. Her grandmother was with friends who all had Terri's number, but that didn't stop her from worrying. She replayed Nathan's messages. He never said more than six words and left no name, but she heard his worry.
He didn't act like a killer or sound like one.
But she'd been wrong before, and this time the consequences could be deadly.
*
Duff couldn't ignore the buzzing phone any longer. That Fra Bacchus chose to call instead of text message meant he was upset. Duff answered, "Yes, sir."
"You didn't report in."
"I don't have anything to report yet, sir."
"What happened?" The Fra slurred his words. Lunch-time, which meant bottle number two for the day;
"The person I was trying to get an appointment with did not show." Where had the Mitchell woman gone last night? Duff had driven to her house, the container, then the precinct, where her car was parked. A mechanic showed up to tinker with the car for a bit, then left it with the hood up.
"All night?" Fra Bacchus's snarly tone raked across Duff's nerves.
"The person had car trouble and was stranded at work all night." Not exactly the truth. Duff had waited for her to leave. Mitchell must have gone home without her car, because she walked up to the precinct today. Someone had dropped her in the area. The mechanic returned this morning to finish whatever he started last night, but Duff had taken advantage of the hood being up to do a little work of his own while the car was unlocked.
"Our drop-dead time for this project nears," the Fra said.
Duff smiled at the play on words. Drop dead. How apropos. "Not a problem. I did some work personally on her car that should expedite transmission of information. I still anticipate having the product by no later than tomorrow morning, as the client has been informed." He'd inserted a voice-activated transmitter that
"You're sure you were clocked in all night."
"All night," Duff answered with conviction. The Fra wouldn't understand. He couldn't fault Duff. If all the vials had been in the container yesterday, Duff would have been done with this task by now. The Fra had women at his fingertips. A man that old and pickled on wine had no idea the strain Duff had been under for the past two weeks.
If Duff had picked up Mitchell first, he would have committed a worse transgression than a sin of the flesh; he'd have ended up having to explain an unnecessary death. As it was, he was calm after enjoying the little cherry playmate he'd met along Canal Street. His favorite hunting grounds.
"Starting now, check in every four hours until this assignment is completed."
Duff lifted a fist and shook it. Don't treat me like a child, dammit. He opened his fist and rubbed his head. "Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?"
"Yes. The appointment you're trying to make has become necessary."
Duff felt a surge of excitement. Necessary, as in a necessary death? "Yes, sir. I'll execute the contract," he answered in code.
"Exactly," the Fra confirmed and hung up.
Duff closed his eyes and leaned back, smiling. Bonus time. He pictured the young wholesome blonde from last night who had slid into the passenger seat of his rented Jaguar.
Almost as easily as her nude body had slid over the transom of his boat four hours later, weighted with anchors tied to her neck and ankles. Crabs would clean the carcass in no time.
Duff drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The Mitchell woman had to know where the other two vials were. If she didn't know or refused to comply, Duff had an effective way of withdrawing information he felt sure would lead him to the vials.
Then he'd leave her tucked away for a midnight morsel.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Nathan cranked the Javelin as soon as Terri stepped out of the precinct. He pulled into traffic, slowly following her until she was a block from the building, then moved up beside her at a cross street. Once she was settled in, he needed to ask her about the DEA agent "JB" referenced in Jamie's letter. He should have asked last night and would have if he'd been able to keep any blood in his brain around her. But the minute he'd put his hands on her, his mind had turned to mush.
She walked in front of his hood, then swung around to the passenger side and climbed in. Her gait was stiff, but he didn't think her leg was to blame.
"You okay?" he asked, then moved into the flow of traffic.
"Fine."
"Anything happen at work?"
"Not really."
Nathan checked the traffic behind him and gave her a minute to talk, but she wasn't saying a word. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Did this have to do with last night? He'd never been smooth when it came to the day-after discussions, which was why he should have avoided the night before. Like there was any chance he would have walked away from her last night.
She turned to him, eyes worried over something. Hell, what had happened since she'd left him this morning?
"Have you murdered anyone?" she asked.
That was a tricky one. "What's your definition of 'murder'?"
She glared at him. "Don't play twenty questions with me right now. Yes or no."
"I was in the army, Terri. Special Ops, sent into the most godforsaken places you can imagine, where I did unspeakable things. We weren't exactly sent in to teach our enemies to knit. Of course, I've killed people."
She wrapped her arms around her stomach and looked away as if asking these questions bothered her as much as him. "Let me rephrase that. Have you killed anyone that was not under orders?"
He could say no, but didn't want to lie to her. They'd agreed to be honest. "Yes, but they deserved to die."
"That doesn't make killing okay."
"You can't say that. You weren't there." Nathan took the ramp to Interstate 10 East.
When she swung back around, fire danced in those green eyes. "Yes, I can say it's wrong. You can't decide who lives and who dies, even if they're criminals."
He'd been judge and jury more times than he wanted to remember, like when he'd killed the two slimes raping that girl in South America. He didn't talk about those times and tried hard not to think about them, but he wouldn't apologize for doing what he'd believed was right. "Some criminals can't be brought to trial."
"You said you were after the same thing as me. Justice. So I want to know, what are you going to do when you find the man who killed your brother? Because I have no doubt that you will find him."
"I'll make that decision when I'm faced with it."
"That's not good enough."
"That's going to have to be good enough for now!" He glared at her for pushing him to think past his grief and anger to answer the question that had plagued him since walking out of prison.
Someone had to be punished for killing Jamie.
Marseaux was untouchable or so it seemed, since law enforcement and the courts hadn't found a way to capture him yet. If he wasn't stopped, how many more would die? How many more families would be left bereft?
Someone had to keep the monsters at bay.
"Nathan, you've got to turn yourself in."
What the hell? He scowled at her. Had she been smoking some of the DEA's impounds?
Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. "Brady found out you were released and suspects you of trading places with Jamie. An APB was being issued on both of you as I was leaving the precinct." She sniffled and stared out the windshield. "I'll help you. Come back with me."
"No."
"Don't you understand?" she breathed, turning back to him and fisting her hands. "They listed you as armed and dangerous and you're to be brought in at all costs. You're suspected of killing three men."
Fury and disbelief tangled inside him. "Who the hell is dead now?"
"Bennie, FinMan, and Hatchet."
He scoffed at the mere thought of wasting his time and skills on their worthlessness. If he was going to bear a murder rap, it would be for someone worth the rest of his life. "I didn't kill them."
He checked the traffic following them closer. No tails. No blue lights. Nathan glanced at Terri, who stared at him with sad eyes that questioned his statement. "I did not kill those men, Terri. Hell, you know I could have killed Hatchet that night in your bedroom"And wanted to for hurting her. "But I didn't. And you saw me turn Hooknose loose. I didn't have to do that, either."
"Then give yourself up."
"No. Given what I've been through, I'm not real trusting of the court system. I'm going to find my brother's murderer and I'm not going back into a cell. Been there, done that, and I won't look out through bars ever again."
"A vigilante is a criminal. I won't help a criminal."
Then get out. It was all he could do not to lash out.
No words had cut him quite like hearing her denounce him as a worthless criminal, no better than Marseaux. "You'd think differently if it was your family."
"No, I wouldn't." She held his glare for long bold seconds, then broke the staring contest. "My mother was killed by a vigilante who thought he was shooting a man alone in bed. He didn't realize she was beneath the sheets sleeping when he pumped bullets into the bed of a man he thought had killed his gay lover. Sure, I wanted to hurt someone when I heard how my mother died. I went pretty wild for a while, but I was a teenager with no family." Terri propped her head against a fisted hand, her elbow supported by the door handle. "But as an adult, I've channeled all that pain into working with law enforcement to protect innocent people."
"This is different" Nathan started.
"The vigilante killed an undercover cop who was trying to find someone murdering gays. My mother had been seeing the cop. Wrong time, wrong place, but that doesn't change that they are dead because someone let pain blind them to following the laws."
"Terri, I'm trained"
And he'd thought his life had sucked? His admiration for Terri kept taking giant leaps, but nothing was going to deter him from his path. His brother was dead and someone had to pay.
Nathan shook his head. "We still have to figure out what's going to happen in the next few days." He took the first exit off the interstate and headed back toward the precinct.
"We probably won't find out anything in time, because you're interfering with the investigation."
"How do you figure that?" Anger flashed through his words.
"Marseaux's contacts have started going to ground. They're afraid of the Drake ghost. We can't get anything from anyone."
Nathan tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. If he didn't find Marseaux soon, he'd lose any chance of moving freely around this city. Wasn't going to take long for every cop in town to be watching for his face.
This license plate would be released with the APB and a '72 black Javelin stood out in today's traffic, especially since there'd only been twelve of them ever built.
And his was probably the only one still on the road.
But he couldn't let Terri down, either. His plan of attack had been so much simpler before she broke into his mother's house. "I'm not walking back into a jail cell while the person who killed Jamie goes free. Don't ask me for the impossible."
"Then at least leave Marseaux's people alone until we find out if there's going to be a terrorist attack. Can you do that?"
He wanted to say yes, but what if he came face-to-face with Jamie's killer? She couldn't expect him to let that bastard go. "I'll do my best."
"'Do your best'? We're only talking about saving lives here," she snapped.
"No one saved Jamie's!" he roared. "Hell, it was the law that put him there and cut him loose to die! I told you I was an ex-con and that I'm looking for Jamie's killer. None of this is new. What's really eating at you?"