Phantom in the Night

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Always wanting to be in charge. He smiled until his conscience poked a finger of guilt at him for taking advantage of her offer, knowing he had to walk away;

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  How had running back here to protect her gotten so out of hand?

  Because he'd forgotten his initial plan the minute his tongue tangled with hers.

  She'd stood on the opposite side of a gun from him once already. Twice, actually. If she knew his intentions for his brother's killer, Terri would look at him through the hard eyes of a cop instead of the soft eyes of a woman.

  Besides, he couldn't make love to her, then just walk away. She wasn't that kind of woman.

  Her delicate fingers caught his hand and tugged him down beside her. He drew her into his embrace, her back to his chest, wrapping his arms and legs over her and rubbing his chin along her hair.

  Maybe he could stay when this was all done.

  Nathan rolled his eyes. Oh, sure. Then he'd have an address for the president to send a full pardon to if he didn't want to remain dead since he'd defrauded the government in a court case and had gone AWOL.

  When was he going to learn to stop wanting the impossible?

  Obviously, no time soon, since he wanted Terri Mitchell.

  * * *

  Terri poured herself a cup of coffee, wondering what she was going to have to do to convince Nathan he had more options than he thought. He was already withdrawing from her this morning, becoming more remote. She knew why he'd backed away—because he either believed he was going on the run or going to die—but he could damn well give her a chance to help him.

  "What's your schedule today?" he asked.

  "Good morning to you, too." She turned around slowly and leaned against the counter. Nathan wore jeans and a faded green T-shirt, unremarkable clothing if not for how the material clung to him like a second skin. Stop paying attention to his body and start figuring out what he's up to.

  "Good morning," he said. "Now, what about your schedule?"

  "It changes throughout the day. Why do you ask?"

  "It would help me if you were around the precinct for a while today so I could do a few things."

  She laughed, but not with any humor. "What is it going to take for you to understand that I don't need a bodyguard?"

  "Remember the backfire last night?"

  "I remember a every detail of last night. Do you?"

  "Terri, last night was amazing, but—

  "If you say it was a mistake, I swear I'll shoot you where you stand."

  "A night spent loving you would never be a mistake."

  Damn, but he had a way of turning her heart into Jell-O.

  "However, that doesn't change the fact that I shouldn't have and… won't again."

  He also had a knack for turning her temper valve wide open to steaming. "Don't I have a say in this?"

  He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, then sighed and shook his head. "If you won't accept that it's not a good idea given my situation, then at least understand that I can't watch over you if I'm involved."

  "And I've told you I don't need you to guard me." She gripped the mug of coffee with both hands to keep from flinging it across the room.

  "That was no backfire last night. There's a chunk of wood missing from the frame of your window."

  "No way." Her skin felt clammy. Stars sprinkled her vision.

  "You okay?"

  No. Terri forced herself to straighten and fight through the light-headed moment. "Yes, just a little surprised. We haven't had any drive-by shootings here."

  "This wasn't a drive-by. The slug looks to be from a high-powered rifle. The angle indicates the shot was from a roof."

  Her knees weakened over that. Grandma could have been here.

  "Sit down."

  "Don't tell me what to do." Yeah, she sounded like a beyotch, but treating her like some simpering female ticked her off.

  "Have you always been this hardheaded, or is it just me that brings out your worst side?"

  That shot her blood pressure back up to peak level. She sat the coffee cup down with a solid thunk and stepped away from the sink. "Oh, this isn't my bad side, baby. Trust me, it gets much worse."

  Terri grabbed her purse off the table. "Guess I'll just let you lock up since you haven't needed a key yet." She made it to the door when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  "Please."

  She sighed. He could say more with one word than any human she'd ever met. Terri stepped around, breaking loose from his touch. Her cell phone buzzed, but she ignored it.

  "About last night—" Nathan started.

  "I'm through talking about it."

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  "I'm a big girl, capable of making big-girl decisions. You make it sound like I expect some sort of commitment, but I'll ease your conscience. I'm not the marrying kind, so don't break out in a sweat because things got hot." Some of that was true.

  "You don't do one-night stands."

  No, she didn't, but that didn't mean she wouldn't consider a full-fledged affair, anything to buy time until she could figure out how to keep him out of jail. "You don't know."

  "Yes, I do. But it doesn't matter. I can't treat you like a casual roll in the sack."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you don't feel like that to me." He cupped her cheek. "You're special. Wish we'd met in a different life when I might have a chance with a woman like you."

  How did he always manage to leave her speechless?

  Her cell phone buzzed again. He moved his hand from her face. She glanced down. Carlos Delgado. She couldn't ignore this one, but couldn't take it right now, either.

  "Get going, but stay around the precinct until five p.m., okay?"

  "I'll think about it, but only because I have paperwork," she grumbled.

  He touched two fingers under her chin. She should ignore him and answer the phone that still buzzed loudly as an angry hornet. Instead, she lifted her eyes to his.

  Nathan lowered his head and kissed her sweetly, then lifted his lips from hers. "Thanks."

  "For what this time?"

  "For a night with you."

  That did it. She wanted to climb his bones again right here in the kitchen. If she didn't get out of the house right now, he would be thanking her for so much more.

  Her cell phone buzzed insistently. "I've got to get this."

  "Go. I'll be right behind until you get inside the building."

  Oddly enough, she was starting to think of his over-protective nature as sweet. Terri rushed out the door and climbed into her car. She was backing out of the drive when her phone kicked up a fuss once more. Had to be Carlos again. Probably madder than all get out. But when she flipped it open, the caller was Captain Philborn.

  "Mitchell here."

  "Come straight to my office when you get here." He was not happy about something.

  "Sure. Is something going on?"

  "Yes. We'll talk."

  Terri frowned Why the secrecy? "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. What are we meeting about?"

  "Fingerprints on a plastic bag."

  Oh, no, no, no. She forgot about the bag she dropped at the lab yesterday… before Nathan identified himself last night. "The lab got the prints matched? Great." Perky might cover her panic. She knew who the prints belonged to now. Act like it's no big deal. "Were they Nathan Drake's?"

  "One set was. The other is yours. Josie Silversteen is here with me and neither of us is happy right now. You'd better show up with answers."

  And here she'd used the NOPD lab to avoid the headache of using BAD's, thinking Carlos would figure out who Terri was using as a contact. She hadn't planned on Josie banging one of the lab techs, but she bet that was how the DEA knew anything about the fingerprints.

  That would be the least of Terri's problems if she didn't come up with a reason for her prints to be on the same bag as Nathan's.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOURT
EEN

  Traffic was light along Basin Street, but Nathan checked every car he passed or that passed him while he cruised the area near the St. Louis Cemetery. Nothing odd or suspicious going on. He parked between a van and a suburban sport utility, then slipped away, strolling along the sidewalk until he reached the wrought-iron entrance to the cemetery and walked in.

  Marble mausoleums taller than him crowded the space not taken up by sculptures. He could never get Jamie to come here as a teen. His brother couldn't even look at a cemetery in passing after burying their dad.

  And now…

  A movement on his left—alley cat after a mouse—whipped Nathan's mind off what he couldn't change to why he was here.

  He located the left turn he'd been watching for, then strode seventy feet and hung a right, where he found Stoner leaning against a massive mausoleum in the shade. This way, they could talk quietly face-to-face and watch each other's back. The cemetery offered a better exit plan than a restaurant. They could leave together, then split up if they picked up a tail.

  Nathan pulled up two feet from Stoner. "Thanks again for last night. How did you know I was there?"

  "You're welcome." Stoner's gaze touched on Nathan, then swept past continually as he spoke. "I got back here about ten days ago. Took a while to find Jamie. While I was hunting him, I ran across a lot of useful information on Marseaux and figured out Jamie had gotten involved with that bunch."

  "Why did you look for him?"

  "Didn't take much for me to figure out why you walked away from the army."

  Nathan crossed his arms and stared at the ground. "About how I left you in Bolivia—"

  "I understood. I won't condemn you for doing what you think you had to for your family."

  How could his friend forgive him when Nathan couldn't forgive himself? He faced Stoner. "You should. I walked away from my team."

  "You think the three of us couldn't get out of there without you?"

  "No, but—"

  "The tricky part was how to report you missing."

  "I was AWOL."

  Stoner's smile was as sly as a fox. "All we knew when we returned to camp was that you were gone and so was your pack. Best we could figure, an unfriendly took you prisoner We stayed another two weeks, then reported you MIA. By the time the army got around to notifying your family, they'd moved with no forwarding address."

  Nathan unfolded his arms, shocked that he was considered MIA and not a deserter. Stoner and his team had gone out on a limb to protect him. Terri's words came to him: Everyone is not your enemy, Nathan. Someone might be willing to help you if you'd step out from behind those walls.

  Stoner's eyes sharpened at something beyond where they stood, then relaxed when he glanced back at Nathan. "I got on the Net the minute I was back at base, scanning for any news in New Orleans about you or your brother. Thought something might have happened to your mom. That's when I found a news brief on how Marseaux had slipped through the DEA's fingers again, but several people were being prosecuted. Jamie was listed as one. He was convicted, sent to prison… but he didn't go, did he?"

  Nathan shook his head. "No. He wouldn't have survived."

  Stoner nodded. "That's why I came back to New Orleans when I got out. I figured him and your momma could use some help until you were released. By the time I'd gotten here, your momma had passed away. Sorry about that."

  "Thanks." Nathan silently cursed himself. Thanks? That was all he could say to a man who had covered his ass more than once in the army and came here to help his brother? He struggled for words that equaled Stoner's, but finally just gave up and asked, "How'd you find Jamie? He and Mom moved into another house right before she… died."

  "I went to the cemetery and waited each day, thinking he'd show up again and he did. Put some flowers there. I followed him home and couldn't figure out what to say that wouldn't freak him out since he didn't know me. If I said I knew you from the army, he'd think I was here about you going AWOL. If I said I knew he was Jamie, he'd have panicked. So I just watched and followed."

  "Did you see where he went the day he died?" Nathan's heart flipped over with hope of some solid intel.

  Stoner nodded. "He was working at that shipping company and had been meeting someone on the sly in hotels. I couldn't figure out who, but the last night he went to meet someone he left his car at home and climbed into a black panel van. I ran the numbers with a cousin at the DMV Stolen tag. I followed the van until we got into Fat Tuesday traffic. Jamie climbed out of the van and vanished in the crowd before I could pull the car to the curb and follow him."

  Nathan hit the side of his fist against the marble wall. "What could he have been doing?"

  "Don't know. Marseaux's probably the only one who can answer that."

  "Jamie would have left me a note. He always left notes about what he was doing or secrets he only shared with me. I just haven't figured out where he hid them."

  "You're sure he hid them in the house?"

  "I found a cryptic note on the refrigerator that he left because he didn't think he'd make it to the prison to pick me up. He knew he was going to die. I'm positive he'd leave more than that to help me understand."

  "But I'm saying, are you sure he'd hide those in the house?"

  "Where else would he—" Nathan stopped himself the minute it hit him. The notes wouldn't have been in the house. "Let's go." He spun around and headed for the Javelin with Stoner close behind.

  At the car, Nathan slid into the driver's seat and Stoner dropped into the passenger seat.

  "I haven't even thought about the hidden panel beneath the dash where we used to stash condoms," Nathan felt underneath the dash with his hand until his finger hit a latch. He popped the latch and the panel fell open, A roll of money bounced on the floorboard. Not what Nathan had hoped to find.

  "Don't jump to conclusions, Nate."

  "I'm not." He lifted the roil of hundred-dollar bills and shoved it into the console. "But what was he doing with that kind of cash?"

  "Don't have an answer for you, but Jamie will as soon as we find the notes." Stoner flipped the visor on his side down and up, then opened the glove compartment and rooted around.

  "He was too sharp to pick a hiding spot just anyone could locate."

  "You told me you two always picked the same places. Since the money was in that place in the dash, where else would you hide something in this car?"

  Nathan leaned back, thinking. He'd been so busy trying to figure where Jamie would put the notes in the house that he'd missed the obvious. Closing his eyes, Nathan mentally studied the car, searching for a place.

  Suddenly, the simplest thing hit him. Jamie wouldn't have hidden papers that would take a lot of space or be hard to print and keep up with.

  His genius brother would have used something faster and easier to transport.

  "Jamie would have put any information on a USB memory stick," Nathan said, "I just know it. Now, where would he put it?" His gaze skipped from the steering wheel to the rearview mirror to the buttons on the tape player. He smiled, recalling how Jamie had gotten on his ass when Nathan wanted to remove the eight-track player and install newer electronics.

  Nathan stopped smiling and unlocked the console where one tape was stored, A tape player head cleaner. He yanked it out.

  Stoner produced a pocketknife Nathan used to pry open the case, where he found a USB memory stick inside.

  "My brother's got a laptop at home," Stoner suggested. "But it's on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain,"

  "I don't want to be that far away from Terri, Have to go see what she's up to soon, but I made her agree to stay at the office until five p.m. to give me some time."

  "And you think she'll stick to that?"

  "Not really, but she said she had a couple hours of work, I'll hit a cyber cafe and read this thing." Nathan reached under the dash to close his trap door.

  Stoner gave him a probing stare, "Found yourself a nice girl there."

  "She's not mine.
"

  "From what I saw, she's interested."

  Nathan sat up and ground his teeth. "Doesn't matter, I'm on borrowed time. Once I find out who killed Jamie, I won't be able to see her anymore and she won't want to see me."

  Stoner shifted his bulk, leaning an elbow against the window. "You can keep Jamie's ID and go to the parole meetings—you don't have to run."

  "I don't have time to make a parole meeting, and even if I did the minute the NOPD gets wind of me being in town, they'll figure out whose been jacking up Marseaux's people. They think Jamie was a drug mule, so the first thing they'd nail me on would be breaking my parole rules. Won't take long before they aim the same weapons at me they point at Marseaux."

  "Has to be a way out of this mess."

  "This is a no-win situation, I appreciate your help, but you'd be wise to stay away from me."

  Stoner smiled, "What? And miss all this fun? Besides, they shot at me, too. Where I come from, that's war. How about cranking this beast and take me back to my ride."

  Nathan drove over to Stoner's burgundy Ford Excursion.

  "Hold on a minute," Stoner got out and opened the door on his ride, leaned in for a few seconds, then turned around, eyeing the landscape.

  He returned to the car and handed Nathan a 9 mm H&K. "As long as you're going to blow your parole anyhow, this is better than that crap you had last night. We're going to need more equipment. I've got some people to see. Call me as soon as you get anything off that memory stick," He climbed into his sport utility and sped off.

  Nathan drove away and called the precinct. He finally got someone who knew Terri, since it appeared not everyone did.

  "She's in a meeting."

  He really hated vague phrases like that. "I'll call back."

  * * *

  Terri had rushed up the steps to the second-floor precinct offices. Not that she'd been in a hurry to explain the fingerprints, but she had a feeling something else was going on.

  Had the DEA gotten their hands on the container? When she reached the door to Captain Philborn's office, Terri took a deep breath and tapped.