by Jamie Craig
He fell silent, but when she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, the darkness prevented her from seeing anything more than his gaze directed through the windshield in front of him. They traveled several blocks before he uttered a word.
“I know what it looked like back there.” His tone was subdued and infinitely less confrontational. “With Nathan and Remy. But believe me, they will do everything they can to help you with this. He might not have a badge anymore, but Nathan’s one of the best investigators I’ve ever known. Smart. Tenacious. And Remy, well, let’s just say she’s got a soft spot for girls in trouble. If Gabriel is responsible for your girl’s kidnapping, we’ll help you get him. I promise.”
“I’m sure he is responsible.” She didn’t know how to explain the subtle shift in his attitude, but she appreciated the alleviated tension. The pain that had been crawling from her tight shoulders up her neck began to abate. “I feel it, you know? But DAs tend to frown on gut feelings.”
“That’s why they have desk jobs and we’re out here busting our asses catching the bad guys.” He brushed stray hair from his pants leg. “Tiberius, you said? A name like that’s either for a very big dog or for a very small one trying to compensate.”
Reaching over, she flipped the visor down to expose the picture taped on the mirror. Tiberius was looking at the camera with a huge doggy-smile, his giant head taking up most of the frame. “German Shepherd and Rottweiler mix. That was taken before his final growth spurt, so he’s a bit bigger now.”
“No, no compensating necessary there. Remind me not to surprise him in a dark alley.”
“Don’t tell anybody I told you, but he’s as gentle as a kitten. If you surprised him in a dark alley, he’d probably lick you to death.” The image of Tiberius on his hind legs, front paws propped on Isaac’s shoulders as the two fought over whether or not Isaac would be getting a kiss made her stifle a grin. She worried her bottom lip for a moment, then shifted to the more serious topic. “There are some other leads on Gabriel I’d like to follow up on tomorrow. I could give you a report on what I find, or you could—”
“I’ll come with. I’m usually at my desk by seven, but if you want to meet up earlier and hash out the details over food, I get breakfast at five-thirty at this great little hole in the wall near my place. Best sausages in town. I guarantee it.”
The suggestion threw her. Streetlights cast shadows over his face, making it impossible to get a read on him. Was he asking her on some sort of date? Or was this just how he worked? She wasn’t necessarily a breakfast person, but she did want to be on Isaac’s good side.
“Five-thirty is good for me. I have a meeting with one of Gabriel’s former gang members at eight.”
“At the station or somewhere else?”
“Somewhere else. Do you think anybody would agree to talk to me if I dragged them down to the station?”
“What I’m thinking is Gabriel’s men know me. We show up together and one of two things is going to happen. If we’re lucky, they see me and get scared shitless because they know this is serious business. If we’re not, they clam up, because they figure out with me on the case, too, it’s more serious than they thought.”
Isaac McGuire might have history with Gabriel. He might also have a stellar reputation. But apparently, he also had an ego worthy of floating in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade.
As tempting as it was, she squelched the desire to bring it crashing back to earth. “Well, I don’t want Rico to clam up, or be scared shitless. So I guess you can stay at the station.”
“If you’re meeting someplace I can watch from a distance, you’ll have back-up in case something goes wrong. It’s not like I need to hear what he has to say. But better to be safe than sorry.”
She thought of the short man with the crosses, the Jesus tattoos, the Bible, and the desire to be a youth pastor. Rico had seen the light, found Jesus, changed his ways, and now he had no greater goal than to bring his former friends to God’s Kingdom. She also thought of the dozens—maybe even hundreds—of men who assumed she needed them to do her job. She wasn’t opposed to back-up, but she hated people thinking she always needed it.
“It’s not necessary.”
“I want to help.”
“It’s not like I’ve never talked to him before.”
“The stakes are higher now.”
He wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. From a distance. Rico is my best informant right now. The last thing I want is to give him a reason to get jumpy.” A Mustang changed lanes two cars ahead of them, flashing a brief glimpse of a couple that could have been Isaac’s erstwhile partner and his girlfriend. “You said Remy out-bluffed Gabriel? When did she do that?”
“Last summer.” It might have been her imagination, but his voice got distinctly more professional, like he was reciting facts instead of relaying a story. “He tried to snatch her because she had this coin he wanted, but the goon he picked to do the job had a bone for Nathan too. Got him instead. She stared Gabriel down while I went in and got Nathan out.”
“A coin? You know, in all my research, I must have missed the part about Gabriel’s renowned coin collection.”
Isaac snorted. “It’s a family heirloom, apparently. He wanted it bad enough to take the deal Remy offered.” Grim respect darkened his features, even in the dim light of the car. “Nathan wouldn’t be around today if it wasn’t for what she did.”
Maybe his confidence in Remy wasn’t as misplaced as it had originally seemed, but that still didn’t mean she belonged on her case—even if it seemed Isaac, Nathan and Remy were a package deal.
She pulled into the visitor’s lot at the hospital and found a spot near the entrance. Nathan and Remy waited for them at the door. This time they weren’t trying to taste each other’s tonsils, though Remy had her hand in Nathan’s back pocket.
“Does she usually dress like that?” Olivia muttered as she and Isaac approached the hospital.
“Be thankful she’s dressed at all.” The doors whisked open, but Isaac stepped to the side, tilting his head toward the entrance. “Lead the way, Detective.”
Olivia nodded and her three new associates fell in step behind her. The elevator ride to the fourth floor passed in silence. Nathan looked through the file she’d handed him at the station, Remy seemed fascinated by her nails and Isaac studied the case over Nathan’s shoulder.
But she thought Isaac was really watching her watching him.
She kept it casual, never letting her gaze catch on him for more than a moment at a time. Professional curiosity. That’s what it was. That’s what she’d argue to her dying breath if he had the balls to call her on it. But her eyes returned again and again, each time taking away a new detail. His suit, for instance. Expensive, tailored perfectly, like he was stepping onto a runway rather than heading to question a witness. He cared about appearances, regardless of his maverick attitude.
The one time their eyes met, she steeled herself against looking away first. She won when he returned his focus to the file.
She’d argue that to her dying breath too.
Two plainclothes officers guarded Stacy’s fourth-floor room. When Olivia approached, one of them stood and nodded. “Detective.”
Olivia glanced inside. Stacy’s eyes were closed, but she didn’t seem to be asleep. “I think it’s best if only Mr. Pierce and I go inside to speak to her.”
Isaac frowned, ready to argue, but a sharp look from Nathan snapped his jaw shut again. Remy untangled herself from her boyfriend and instead curled her arm through Isaac’s. When he tried to pull away, she only pressed harder into his side. “We’ll run for some coffee,” she said.
As Remy dragged Isaac down the hall, Olivia paused before stepping into Stacy’s room. “You’ll have to show me how to do that sometime.”
“What?” Nathan asked.
“How to shut him up with a glance.”
“It takes years of practice.”
The room was sterile, cold, and prob
ably the worst possible environment in which to try and get a damaged girl to talk. Their options were limited, however, and Stacy Montenegro needed the medical attention at St. Joe’s. She laid in the narrow bed on her side, lank black hair half-hiding the angular planes of her face. Beneath the unflattering lights, her dark skin took on a sallow cast, though the bruises that had flowered along her jaw and neck at her arrival were finally starting to fade. Someone had done a number on her. Thankfully nobody would do it again.
Olivia perched on the chair beside Stacy’s bed and said her name softly. The dark eyes fluttered open and Olivia didn’t miss the sharp panic that only faded as she began to recognize the hospital room.
“Stacy, it’s Detective Wright.” She kept her tone gentle, her body as relaxed and unthreatening as possible. The longer she was on the job, the harder it got to hide her fury with the perpetrators. She would never forget how hard it was for the victims or family. “How are you feeling?”
Stacy regarded her for nearly a minute in silence. Then her gaze slid over Olivia’s shoulder to Nathan standing in the background. A short, sharp breath came out through her nose before she closed her eyes again and rolled onto her back. At least she hadn’t turned away completely.
Olivia pulled the headshot of de los Rios from her file. “Stacy, can you please look at these photographs?”
Stacy didn’t open her eyes or acknowledge Olivia’s request. She wished she could simply look into Stacy’s mind and save them both from this conversation. But she couldn’t, so she patiently spread five photos across Stacy’s lap.
“Stacy, which of these men kidnapped you?”
Still no response. Part of Olivia wanted to take the girl by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. The only way they could catch her kidnapper—and find the other girls—was with Stacy’s help. But she couldn’t actually blame her for being scared. Stacy had survived something horrible. Her battered body was proof of that.
Time to test Isaac’s faith in his friend.
Leaving the pictures where they were, she touched the back of Stacy’s hand. “Stacy, I brought a friend. He’d like to speak to you about your experience. His name is Nathan Pierce.”
Olivia stood and stepped away from the bed, allowing Nathan to take her place in the chair. She didn’t want to serve as a distraction for either of them, though she still had no idea how Nathan intended to coax her into speaking, let alone get her to ID her captor.
“Hello, Stacy.”
He spoke in a soft, soothing voice, addressing her by name at every opportunity. He told her about the day he woke up in a hospital room, like this one, confused and frightened. He told her about the moment he realized he couldn’t talk. He recounted the days and weeks he passed in silence because it hurt, because he was scared, because he didn’t know if he even wanted to be alive anymore. Olivia knew the story was not meant for her ears, but it captivated her anyway. Where had Isaac been when this happened?
It could have been the gentle cadences of his British accent, or the obvious empathy in his words, the similarity of the situations, or any combination thereof. But after five minutes of Nathan’s unfailing voice, Stacy’s lashes fluttered again, her eyes opening to regard him in silent solemnity as he went on. He didn’t falter. His next story spoke of the solitude of being trapped in a world that didn’t make sense, how the only thing he could do was question everything he knew to be true.
“But it stopped?”
The sudden sound of Stacy’s hoarse voice startled both of them. Nathan paused, while Olivia stiffened, taking a small step to the side to better see Stacy’s face.
Her eyes were wet, and a stray tear clung to her thick lashes. “You look…” She winced, her throat working slowly as she swallowed. “You look like it stopped.”
Nathan nodded. “It did. It takes some time to heal. I won’t lie to you, Stacy, it might take a lot of time to heal. But it did get better. It helped to know the person who hurt me could never do it again.”
“Quien?”
“Se llamo Susanna. Ella fui mi novia.” He continued in fluent Spanish, describing his relationship with a woman he used to know. Somebody he used to love. Olivia’s Spanish wasn’t as easy as his, but she caught enough to understand the explanation he gave, and her stomach clenched with each new detail. How this Susanna used him. How she tricked him. And how, in an effort to save her own life, she’d slit his throat.
Neither Nathan nor Olivia moved as Stacy’s hand slipped out from beneath the blanket and stretched toward him, pushing aside the heavy collar of his coat in order to expose the long line of his neck. The angle made it impossible for Olivia to see what Stacy did, but she witnessed the reaction, witnessed the way Stacy fixed on Nathan’s eyes. Compassion and understanding shone in the dark depths of her gaze, but even more important than that was the delicate strand of trust.
Going to Isaac had been the smartest choice Olivia had made yet in this case.
“I’m tired,” Stacy murmured, her hand falling away.
“I know you are.” Nathan cupped her hand between both of his. “We’ll let you sleep soon. But we need to know who did this to you, Stacy.”
Gently, he lowered her hand to where the photos were still spread out in front of her. Olivia remained completely still, unwilling to shatter what good Nathan might have done, but her eyes tracked every twitch of the girl’s fingers, every tremor as she pointed slowly at the black and white picture of Gabriel de los Rios.
Though Olivia wanted to shout for joy, Nathan merely nodded and smiled. “Thank you. That’s exactly what we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt the other girls.”
Stacy was shaking her head before he’d finished speaking, pulling her hand back to burrow deeper within the blankets. The photos slid off, falling to the floor. “It’s too late. There aren’t any other girls. I was the last one left.”
Something cold, like a sharp icicle, buried itself in Olivia’s gut. All her cases ended this way. Too late. So sorry. Contact the family. But she thought this one would be different. When Stacy showed up in the emergency room, she thought it had to be different. Hope. She had allowed herself to have hope for a few minutes. Finding those girls had been possible, just within her grasp.
Nathan didn’t have a visible reaction, except to lean closer to the bed. “What happened to the other girls, Stacy?”
“He took them away. On his boat, I think.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but Olivia could have told her closing her eyes would do nothing to block out the ghosts. “He always talked about it. The Silver Maiden.”
Nathan did react now. He reeled back in his chair like somebody had punched him in the throat and his eyes widened. Olivia had no idea what she was talking about, but Nathan clearly did. Or he thought he knew what she meant. Either way, the icicle began to thaw a little.
“What did he say about the Silver Maiden?” Nathan asked urgently.
But Stacy was done. Olivia had seen it more than once since they’d got her back. She simply pulled the blanket up around her ears and turned her face into the pillow.
As promised, Isaac and Remy waited in the hall with coffee. They both stiffened when they saw the look on Nathan’s face. Remy shoved her coffee into Isaac’s tray so quickly, it sloshed over and spilled onto his fingers. His muttered curse was quiet as he regarded Nathan with a frown that only weighed Olivia’s spirits down even more.
“Well?”
Nathan nodded. “It’s Gabriel.”
“She picked him out of the array I gave her,” Olivia added, knowing she should be happier about that than she sounded.
“That’s not all.” Nathan took a deep breath and looked at Remy. “She mentioned the Silver Maiden.”
Remy blanched and Isaac turned away, running his hand through his hair as he swore under his breath. Before Olivia had the chance to ask what the hell was going on, Remy whirled on her heel and bolted down the hall. Nathan took off after her.
Isaac’s strong hand wrapped around Olivia’s
elbow when she started to follow.
“Don’t.” All humor had fled his dark eyes. “Going after them won’t do you any good.”
“Standing here won’t do me any good either.” She didn’t know why Remy and Nathan freaked out when the Silver Maiden was mentioned—nobody had said anything about a boat—but she didn’t really care. “I need to check out this lead. If I can get a hold of that boat’s registration, I might…” She paused when his face screwed into a frown. “What?”
“The girl mentioned a boat too?”
Olivia frowned. “Not too. She said the Silver Maiden is a boat.”
“What kind of drugs do these doctors have her on?”
Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know, McGuire. So are you telling me it’s not a boat? What is it? A plane? A house? A horse?”
“It’s that coin I was telling you about.”
She stared at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Isaac’s shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh. For the first time since she’d run into him that night, he looked like he’d put in a long day’s work. “And welcome to the wonderful world of Gabriel de los Rios.” Pushing the tray of coffees into her hands, he headed down the hall toward the elevator. “I’ll e-mail you the directions to the diner. We’ll talk over breakfast.”
Her first instinct was to throw the hot drinks at his disappearing back. That was it? She’d put up with his crap all night for him to just walk away? Not if she had anything to say about it.
She handed the tray to one of the officers and quickly followed Isaac, double-timing her strides until she was at his side. “We’ll talk right now. What’s this Silver Maiden?”
“I’ll tell you what I can tomorrow.”
“And I don’t have time for that. Why is this so difficult for you to understand? We need to stay on top of this.”
“You can get on top tomorrow.” The elevator opened as soon as he punched the down button, and he stepped inside, leaving her in the corridor. “As much as I hate to admit it, Remy’s the priority right now.”