Touching Silver

by Jamie Craig

  Touching Silver

  By Jamie Craig

  Everything always comes back to the Silver Maiden.

  Six girls are missing and cold-case detective Olivia Wright is determined to find them. A lone survivor names gang leader Gabriel de los Rios as the culprit—and points Olivia to Isaac McGuire, the force’s foremost authority on Gabriel. Isaac is stubborn, domineering and believes in strange things like time travel and a mystical coin called the Silver Maiden that Gabriel wants. Yet the longer they work together, the more Olivia is drawn to him.

  Isaac shares Olivia’s desire to bring Gabriel to justice. He usually works alone, but the beautiful detective quickly fills his thoughts more than the case—and reminding himself that she’s off limits only makes him want her more.

  As Isaac and Olivia grow closer, so do their enemies. While they hunt Gabriel, a stalker targets Isaac and the missing half of the Silver Maiden reappears—with frightening effects on Olivia…

  90,190 words

  Dear Reader,

  A new year always brings with it a sense of expectation and promise (and maybe a vague sense of guilt). Expectation because we don’t know what the year will bring exactly, but promise because we always hope it will be good things. The guilt is due to all of the New Year’s resolutions we make with such good intentions.

  This year, Carina Press is making a New Year’s resolution we know we won’t have any reason to feel guilty about: we’re going to bring our readers a year of fantastic editorial and diverse genre content. So far, our plans for 2011 include staff and author appearances at reader-focused conferences such as the RT Booklovers Convention in April, where we’ll be offering up goodies, appearing on panels, giving workshops and hosting a few fun activities for readers. We’re also cooking up several genre-specific release weeks, during which we’ll highlight individual genres. So far we have plans for steampunk week and unusual fantasy week. Readers will have access to free reads, discounts, contests and more as part of our week-long promotions!

  But even when we’re not doing special promotions, we’re still offering something special to our readers in the form of the stories authors are delivering to Carina Press that we’re passing on to you. From sweet romance to sexy, and military science fiction to fairy-tale fantasy, from mysteries to romantic suspense, we’re proud to be offering a wide variety of genres and tales of escapism to our customers in this new year. Every week is a new adventure, and we want to bring our readers along on the journey. Be daring, be brave and try something new with Carina Press in 2011!

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

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  We’d like to thank all the readers who waited patiently for this novel.

  This book is for you and we hope you enjoy it.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Corpses had a way of lingering in the memory long after the crime scene was left barren. The charred body they had just carted off to the morgue would be no exception. Isaac McGuire stared at the red taillights fading away down the street and around the corner. Electrified Christmas decorations and strobes from the emergency vehicles bathed the entire neighborhood in light, but he didn’t see any of it.

  The firemen had found the vic lying down in the middle of the storage locker before dragging it out. Most of the man’s face had burned away, leaving behind blackened skin and seared chunks of flesh. Only a single arm remained untouched by the flames. Trapped beneath his prone body, it escaped the blaze nearly unscathed. The attending officer identified the victim using a tattoo still visible on his wrist. Gang member. Gabriel de los Rios’s gang.

  That was when they’d called Isaac.

  Gawkers stood behind the police tape, watching the flames sputter as the experts got the fire in the storage facility under control. No one paid attention to the powerfully built cop standing on the periphery of the scene. Ash peppered Isaac’s dark hair, and the already strong lines of his face hardened more when he squinted against the fading smoke. His brown eyes burned. So did his lungs. Not even the chilly December air was enough to dissipate the effects of the fire.

  With a sharp shake of his head, Isaac turned, ready to go back to his car. He ran straight into the tiny policewoman who had called him to the scene.

  His gaze flickered to her badge. Kahl. Wasn’t familiar. She had to be new.

  “They’re taking in the office manager for questioning.” Her voice was too perky for the gloomy atmosphere. “Did you want to follow?”

  He felt like a Neanderthal looming over her. Did they lower the height requirement? “Just send me the report.” He skirted around her and headed for his car. “I’ve got a dead body to identify. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

  Officer Kahl bustled along behind him, two steps to every one of his. “If you need help, we’ve got more than enough coverage on the arson. I can always—”

  “I can handle it.” He halted at the door of his banged-up Toyota, his keys already dangling from his fingers. Kahl’s bright face appeared at his elbow, and he sighed as he turned to address her. “Look, you’re obviously new, so I’ll be as nice about this as I can without scaring you off the force. Gang warfare is not nearly as glamorous as it is in the movies. You don’t get ahead in your career by going after the leaders and you don’t get commendations from the mayor for locking away weapons dealers. You get dead. Unless you’re me and you know what you’re doing. So why don’t you take care of your arson investigation, which I’m sure you’re very good at, and I’ll take care of my DB, which I know I’m very good at, okay? Okay.”

  She sidestepped out of his way as he jabbed the key into the lock. He didn’t have time to mollycoddle a rookie. Gabriel de los Rios was the biggest gang threat Los Angeles had seen in decades, and someone like Kahl would be a bug beneath his sole if she tried to get in his way. Enough people had died already. Isaac refused to be responsible for even more unnecessary deaths.

  A couple of blocks away from the scene he rolled down the Toyota’s window. The blast of cold air cleared his lungs, sharpening his smoke-numbed brain as he tapped at the steering wheel, beating out a rhythm that matched Mariah’s on the radio. According to the report he’d received upon arrival, the storage facility arsons were not a new development, though none of the previous scenes had come decorated with a dead body. That set this case apart. Gabriel never left behind identifiable witnesses, not even dead ones. A mistake? Unlikely. Gabriel didn’t often make those. But a set-up was just as farfetched.
Either way, though, as soon as Isaac got the DB tagged and bagged, his number one priority became pulling all the files on the previous storage arsons. Something, somewhere, would lead him back to Gabriel. The trick was to find it.

  His phone chirped. He answered it on the first ring.

  “McGuire.”

  “Sounds like I caught you on a case.”

  The familiar voice of Carl Piquette relaxed him as he coasted to a stop at a red light. Carl was an old-timer down in booking. He knew everyone and everything there was to know about the precinct, if not the entire department. “Just heading back,” Isaac replied. “What’s up?”

  Papers rustled on the other end of the line. “Well, believe it or not, Vice just brought in a young lady who claims she’s not a hooker. Put up a big fuss and said it was all a huge mistake. Even gave Ramos a black eye.”

  Isaac snorted. “That sounds like every other night down in booking.”

  “Yeah, except for the fact this particular young lady says you can ID her and set the story straight.”

  As the light turned green, Isaac frowned and turned left. “What’s her name?”

  “Remy Capra.”

  He choked back his bark of laughter. Remy was a lot of things—brash, assertive, maybe the most overtly sexual woman he’d ever met—but a whore was not one of them. Fucking his best friend kept her too busy to even consider solicitation. Hell, Nathan loved Remy so much Isaac had little doubt any other man who laid a finger on her risked losing far more in return. It had to be a mistake.

  His mouth twitched. Someone in Vice had probably seen Remy in her clubbing clothes and assumed the worst. Subtlety was not her strong suit.

  “So do you know her?” Carl asked.

  “Maybe.” This was too good not to milk. “I’ll have to come down and check her out to make sure she is who she says she is. Let me get some stuff sorted out first. Just put her in a holding cell until I get there.”

  He disconnected the call with a grin. This would give him so much fodder for teasing both Nathan and Remy, it was almost shameful.

  The lights were against him as he navigated through traffic. Forty-five minutes later, he walked into the station with the scent of smoke on his clothes a tangible reminder of his night’s activities. His thoughts kept looping on the arson details. Mistake or not, the body still belonged to Gabriel. An ID would help narrow Isaac’s search on why Gabriel was into torching storage facilities now. Or why someone wanted the police to think he was.

  “Don’t worry, I told myself, go ahead and take care of business. Isaac won’t let her rot in a holding cell.”

  He whipped around to see Nathan standing behind his chair. He’d almost forgotten about Remy—hell, he had forgotten about her—but somehow, he didn’t think that explanation would fly.

  “She’s not rotting.” He rose to his feet. “She’s just…ripening.”

  Nathan did not look amused. His lean features were pulled into a frown, his normally bright blue eyes dark with annoyance. Stubble he never seemed to be rid of these days shaded his jaw, though his black hair was cut neat and short for a change. He was taller than Isaac, but not as broad. Even in his jeans and casual jacket, he looked dangerous and the scar across his throat only added to the effect. He might not be a cop anymore, but he still carried himself like one.

  “I told her to ask for you specifically when she called. I promised her it would be handled quickly. And you’re telling me she’s still down there?”

  “Only because I was out when they called me. I just got back. Here.” He thrust out his arm. “Smell my coat. I haven’t even had time to shower yet.”

  Nathan sniffed and grimaced. “Arson?”

  He nodded. “Storage facility. The latest in a string of ‘em.”

  “Somebody is burning down storage facilities? And you’re investigating?” His eyes narrowed. “Why were you assigned?”

  “I wasn’t. I got called in. This one came with a dead body. One connected to Gabriel.”

  “Innocent victim?”

  “No. One of his boys. Wrist tattoo wasn’t burned off.”

  “Well, that’s interesting, isn’t it?” Nathan absently rubbed the back of his neck, a sign he was about to start working on the puzzle. “Do you think it’s some sort of retaliation or…” He stopped, shook his head, and the gears shifted. “It’s been at least two hours since she contacted me. She’s going to be…upset.”

  Isaac clapped a friendly hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “C’mon, pimp daddy. Let’s go get your woman out.”

  They wound through the desks, aiming for booking. Casting a curious glance sideways, Isaac noted the bulge beneath Nathan’s jacket. Only the fact that he’d once been one of them gave him leeway to bring a weapon into a police station.

  “Were you on a job?” Isaac asked.

  “I finally tracked Brad Tuft to a small club in West Hollywood. Remy was serving as a bit of a distraction in the front while I slipped through the back. She just needed to keep the goons from noticing me. I guess she did somewhat more than that.” Nathan sighed. “I was preparing Tuft for delivery when she called. Had to take care of him first…Isaac, you know she’s going to kill us both.”

  Isaac grinned. “You’ll have to keep her busy until she forgets why she’s mad at us, then.” They were emerging from the stairwell when he realized what Nathan had actually said. His smile instantly disappeared. “I thought you told me you weren’t going to take her on any more jobs after what happened at the docks.”

  “What happened at the docks was a mistake. As much my fault as hers. She’s proven more than once she can take care of herself. How many other people do you know stared down Gabriel and lived to tell about it?”

  “Yeah, she takes care of herself so well she gets picked up for solicitation.” He shook his head. Sometimes Nathan’s blind spot for Remy frustrated the hell out of him. She was capable, sure, but she was also unpredictable and that scared the shit out of Isaac. He changed the subject. “When is she going to get a real job? We went through a lot of work to make her legal. I thought we did that for a reason.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan said, his tone brittle. “I’ve been so busy with my ‘pretend’ job I haven’t had a chance to find something more suitable for her. What do you suggest is appropriate? Waitress? Secretary? Maid?”

  Damn it. He’d gone too far.

  “Look.” Taking Nathan’s arm, he pulled him away from the main flow of traffic through the corridor. When he spoke, his voice was low and even. “You know that’s not what I think about what you do. You were a great cop and now you’re a great bounty hunter. I wouldn’t use you if you weren’t. But Remy…” He paused, weighing his words. “She’s still adjusting. It’s only been six months. She doesn’t understand how things work here, and worse, I don’t think she really cares. It’s clear to anybody with a functioning eyeball the only thing that matters to her is you, and I’m worried her tunnel vision is going to get you killed one of these days.”

  Nathan looked slightly mollified. “And working with you could have got me killed. We’re always going to be at risk, Isaac, unless we give it all up. Come on, let’s get her out of there before there’s any more damage.”

  Isaac could do nothing but start back down the corridor, Nathan silent at his side. One of these days, he’d learn to keep his big mouth shut about Remy. It always landed him in trouble.

  Carl sat behind the booking counter, flipping through a dog-eared copy of LA Yoga. As Isaac and Nathan approached, he glanced up.

  “Took you long enough,” he said, his bushy brows drawing together in a thick frown. “Ramos is all over my ass wanting to push her for assault, but I’ve been holding off until you say whether or not she’s yours.” He reached for a key ring hanging on the wall. “She’s in the first cell. That was as far as anybody wanted to take her.”

  Isaac took the keys with a nod. “That sounds like Remy, all right.”

  Nathan didn’t rise to the bait. “When did Carl star
t with the yoga? I thought Judo was the path to spiritual enlightenment,” he said once they were out of earshot.

  “At his age? There’s a reason he’s at a desk.”

  Remy was exactly where Carl had said, leaning against the wall, picking at something beneath her nail. Her dark hair hung in thick waves around her shoulders, her scarlet mouth full and sullen. Her halter-top accentuated her ripe breasts and a long black skirt might have obscured her great legs if it weren’t for the long slit up the side. Ramos was a fool. None of the pros ever looked like Remy Capra.

  At the sound of the door, her head snapped up, her dark eyes blazing. “It’s about fucking time. Did you wait until they sent you an engraved announcement?”

  “Good to see you, too, Remy.” He slipped the key into the lock and pushed open the door, sighing in exasperation when she rushed past him to go straight to Nathan. “And you’re welcome.”

  “Are you okay?” Nathan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner. Turns out Isaac does more than just sit at his desk and read Entertainment Weekly.”

  “I’m fine.” She glared at Isaac. “That Ramos is a fucking pig. Tell him the next time he grabs my tit, he’ll get a lot worse than a black eye.”

  “Why don’t we work on making sure there isn’t going to be a next time, okay?” To Nathan, he said, “Don’t worry about the paperwork. I’ll take care of everything. If you just want to get her out of here, that’s all right.”

  Nathan frowned, taking off his jacket and handing it to Remy. “You know, I never liked that bastard.” He turned to usher her down the hall, but paused and looked back. “I want to hear more about the arson.”