Touching Silver

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Touching Silver Page 4

by Jamie Craig


  Her jaw dropped, and the doors whisked shut in front of her. She jabbed at the button to open it again, but it was already moving, leaving her standing there alone and furious. Talking to Isaac McGuire was like pulling teeth. She needed to find more constructive methods of catching Stacy’s kidnapper.

  Like researching the Silver Maiden and finding out what a coin—or whatever it was—had to do with her case.

  Chapter Three

  Bile burned in the back of Remy’s throat as she raced down the stairs. She needed to get outside the sterile walls of the hospital, get into the crisp night air to clear her head, get away from a girl she had yet to see—and hopefully never would. Nathan’s footsteps echoed behind her, but he didn’t catch up until the second floor landing, grabbing her arm to yank her back against his chest before she could begin the next descent.

  “Remy.” His other arm snaked around her stomach, holding her in place. “Don’t run.”

  Though his touch killed the instinct for flight, she couldn’t completely relax, even in his arms. “She knows.” Remy thought of it often, dreamt of it more, but hearing the words uttered out loud made it more real than the scar on Nathan’s palm. “She knows about the Silver Maiden.”

  The sole reason she was in Los Angeles. In 2010. Fifty years before she had been born.

  “In a way. She thinks it’s a boat.” He gently turned her to face him. “Gabriel has used the Silver Maiden to do something to those girls. So what are we going to do about it?”

  For the past six months, she’d considered it a miracle. A myth surrounding a mystical coin that allowed the bearer its greatest heart’s desire. It had taken her away from a life of loneliness in the streets of Washington DC and dropped her in Nathan Pierce’s lap in Los Angeles. And even if there was something schiz about going back in time or falling head over heels for a man in less than six days, she was still left holding aces. She wouldn’t change it for the world.

  She wouldn’t even take back the deal she’d made with Gabriel de los Rios. Trading a coin for the chance at a life with real happiness had been worth it. Nathan was worth anything.

  But that didn’t make stomaching the thought that she was partially responsible for six missing girls any more royal. If she hadn’t given him the Silver Maiden, Isaac and that Olivia might still have a chance at saving them.

  “What can we do? I just handed that fucking coin over to him. Can we get it back? We can’t let him take any more of those girls, Nate. I’m not going to let him.” Remy’s eyes widened. “He wanted it so he could do something to those girls. Where was he keeping them before he got the coin?”

  “No, don’t. This isn’t your fault. We won’t let him take any more girls. But think, Remy. How is he using the coin on those girls? The Silver Maiden is supposed to take people to safety, right?”

  His words were only partially true. “Supposed to, yeah, but we don’t know the first thing about how it works. We don’t even know why it burned you. Gabriel probably knows all its secrets and now he’s using it to steal these girls away.” She rested her brow against his shoulder, closing her eyes to breathe in the scent of him. That, too, helped her focus her thoughts. “Jesus, Nate, what did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything.” He wrapped her in a tight embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “You were put in a terrible situation and you made the best decision you could. If he’s using the coin to make those girls disappear, he’s probably not killing them. They’re likely alive somewhere, right? If they’re alive, then we can bring them home. We just need to know what he knows.”

  “We need to get the coin away from him.” Slipping out of his arms, she started to descend the stairs again, though her pace was slower and more deliberate now. “We should have taken it back months ago.”

  “No.” His unexpectedly sharp tone brought her to a halt. “Remy, we can’t get the coin away from him. For one thing, we have no idea where he is keeping it. For another, even if we knew the exact location, his security is going to be so tight, it’ll make Fort Knox look like a pillow fort.”

  His eyes were grim but not unkind. He didn’t go to the mat with her very often. Nathan was a lot smarter than her about picking his battles. So when he did, she knew he had what he considered good reasons.

  But he didn’t have the specter of the Silver Maiden hanging over his head. He hadn’t been the one to hand it over without batting an eyelash.

  “So…what? We just let him get away with this? He needs to pony up. Before he makes somebody else disappear.”

  “No, we don’t let him get away with it. You beat him before.” He took her hand. “You can’t beat Gabriel with force. Not now. He’s too strong. But we can outsmart him.”

  “Maybe you can,” she grumbled. “I get my ass thrown behind bars when I try to get anything done.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe our brilliant plan shouldn’t involve dressing you up so provocatively.”

  “Maybe that’s how we get me close enough to Gabriel,” she said, half-jokingly. “It worked on that pig Ramos, after all.”

  “No, he’d definitely recognize you.” Nathan turned to lead her down the stairs. “Even if you were cleverly disguised as a prostitute.”

  She didn’t say another word until they’d stepped out into the cool night air. Shivering, Remy pulled his coat more tightly around her scantily clad form and nestled into Nathan’s side.

  “We have to do something, though. I still feel like this is all my fault.”

  “We will do something.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “We couldn’t ignore this even if we wanted to. Isaac wouldn’t let us. We collared Brad tonight. We can afford to take some time off and focus on this.”

  She nodded. Her mind was already in overdrive, trying to figure out what step they could take next. If they couldn’t go for Gabriel, then that didn’t leave many options.

  It just left the Silver Maiden.

  Everything always came back to the Silver Maiden.

  Gabriel stared at the damning photos for several long minutes, as though he could will the images away. When Ali had failed to check in the night before, everybody assumed he was chasing tail. He was young and he had a little power and a little money for the first time in his worthless life. It would be strange if he didn’t disappear occasionally, only to turn up the next day a lot poorer and no wiser.

  “Dammit.” He liked Ali. “What was he doing there?”

  Rabbit shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We don’t know.”

  Gabriel arched his brow. “You don’t know? Do I need to hire a babysitter?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Where was Ali supposed to be last night? Or do you not know that either?”

  “It was his night off. He was going to meet a girl at the Rojo.”

  “What girl? What happened to her?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Lord, give me strength,” Gabriel muttered, carefully putting the photos in the envelope Officer Miller had delivered earlier that night. This would never have happened a year ago. This wouldn’t have even happened six months ago. But his attention had been elsewhere, and maybe he hadn’t picked the smartest people to oversee the organization’s daily operations.

  “We can find out, sir.”

  “It’s a little too late for that.” The report suggested the coroner would declare smoke inhalation as the official cause of death after the autopsy. Smoke inhalation at a fire Ali shouldn’t have even known about, much less been participating in. Ali had no reason to be at the site of the arson. But there he was. Dead. Gabriel’s mark still obvious, prominent, on his wrist. “Get out of here.”

  Rabbit didn’t move. Was he deaf as well as stupid?

  “What is it?”

  “Should we contact his family, sir?”

  Gabriel idly wondered who would contact Rabbit’s family when he put a bullet between the boy’s eyes.

  “Just leave.”

  Maybe Rabbit heard t
he desire for violence in Gabriel’s voice. Maybe he was tired of this particular interview. Either way, he obeyed without further aggravation. Gabriel closed his eyes, and all he could see was the tattoo. Ali Cristó Garcia-Jimenez. The police had a positive ID now. There was a clear path from Ali to Gabriel, with three fires between them.

  And there was one man who would draw the line between Ali and Gabriel. It wasn’t a matter of if when it came to Detective McGuire. It was a matter of when. He was tenacious, and he was a pain in Gabriel’s ass. He had managed to stay out of McGuire’s reach by playing it slow and smart. He worked like a river moving a single grain of sand at a time to build a mountain. Everybody else shifted the landscape like earthquakes—suddenly, without warning. They got caught.

  But Gabriel never did.

  He couldn’t afford to attract attention now. Not when he was so fucking close to realizing his life-work. In less than a month, all the pieces would be in place. He didn’t have the time or the energy to throw McGuire off his path. Not now.

  Gabriel opened the small safe tucked securely under his desk and removed a large oak box. Within the box was a thick velvet bag. The heavy silver coin that had eluded him for so many years, but now brought him so much comfort, resided in the bag. He dropped it from the bag to the palm of his hand, cradling it gently. Light glinted off the fine carving. It shined dully in the dim room, but he knew how magnificently it would glow in the right circumstances.

  Nothing would take this away from him. He would find its partner and when the two sides came together with the power of the eight…his blood sang at the thought.

  Taking a deep breath, he focused on the coin. He had difficulty thinking clearly these days. Too many diversions drew his mind in too many directions. But the organization needed him now. He couldn’t just think about himself. He had to consider the fact that Ali’s death and subsequent identification pointed a huge spotlight directly at them and painted a target on his own back in the process.

  That sort of thing never happened by accident. Somebody wanted the LAPD in general, and McGuire in particular, to notice him. A new enemy? An old one? Either way, Gabriel didn’t plan to allow the asshole to get away with it. He would find Ali’s murderer and make him wish his parents had never been born.

  But first, he needed to make sure McGuire wasn’t going to get in the way.

  Gabriel carefully replaced the coin and reached for his phone. The number he dialed came from memory, and the voice on the other end of the phone didn’t seem surprised to hear from him.

  “Bill, it’s Gabriel. How fast can you get surveillance rolling?”

  Chapter Four

  “Don’t get the bacon.” Isaac slid onto the bench opposite Olivia and nodded at Kenny behind the counter—their unspoken code for his usual. “They always overcook it.”

  Olivia looked up from her menu as the waitress, Betty, approached. “Can I get the breakfast special with extra bacon and over-easy eggs, please?”

  “Would you like more coffee?”

  “Keep it coming.” She passed the menu to Betty and finally acknowledged him. “Good morning, Detective.”

  He gave her a broad smile. He’d spent the night reading up on her. An exemplary service record. Numerous commendations. Sterling reports from superiors. He could do a lot worse than teaming up with Olivia Wright. Especially if she looked this hot at five-thirty in the morning.

  “Let’s try something new here. I’ll be Isaac, and you’ll be Olivia, and we’ll leave the ‘detective’ to anybody who’s not us.”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. “This isn’t a date, Detective. Please try to keep that in mind.”

  “There’s always the option I be Olivia and you be Isaac. But your legs are better than mine. Nobody in a million years is going to believe I’m you.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not because of the legs. I’m punctual, professional and considerate. Three things that you are not.”

  His eyes narrowed. Nobody called him unprofessional and got away with it. “I have an exemplary record.”

  “I never said you didn’t. You’re still inconsiderate, unprofessional and…” She looked pointedly at her watch. “Late.”

  “I’m never late to breakfast. Ask anybody.”

  “You are according to my watch.”

  “Your watch is fast.” He turned his wrist so Olivia could see the face of his watch. “I’m never late for breakfast.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted in a small but easy smile. It even reached her eyes. “Fair enough. I guess I shouldn’t give you a hard time. It looks like you’ve been burning the midnight oil.” She sipped her coffee. “I can show you a few tricks to cover those bags under your eyes, though. A little ice and foundation should do the trick.”

  “So would sleep.” He settled in, stretching his arm across the back of the seat. The new light that shone in her eyes made it very hard to look away, so he didn’t bother trying. “But I’ll bet sleeping won’t be a high priority for either of us until we get Gabriel for Stacy’s kidnapping.”

  “It’s rarely a high priority for me. How do you think I learned my ice and foundation trick?” She was still smiling, and he expected her to follow up her rhetorical question with a complaint. Most sane people did when they were low on sleep and high on stress. “Do you keep a change of clothes at the station too?”

  “Two,” he admitted. “But I forced myself to run home for a quick shower before meeting you. I still smelled like smoke from the arson last night.” He smiled up at Betty when she set his coffee in front of him and promptly reached for the sugar. “Things will be tough enough without ruining my appetite too.”

  Olivia tilted her head. “Why are you being called out on arsons?”

  “Because you’re not the only one who recognizes my brilliance. The dead body they found at the fire last night was one of Gabriel’s. Ali Cristó Garcia-Jimenez. A new kid on the block comparatively, which is probably why he was green enough to get caught in his own fire.”

  “I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise,” she said. The Fight Club reference made him grin, but she looked solemn as she toyed with an unopened pack of sugar. Her nails were short and well-kept, her fingers strong. They were the kind of hands that could fight with the best of them, but still know how to play when the dust cleared. “I’ve heard some rumblings that Gabriel has been more active since the summer. Noticeably so.”

  “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  “Just part of my investigation.”

  Betty returned with their breakfasts, giving him breathing room to figure out how to proceed here. Olivia wasn’t messing around. If she recognized the upswing in Gabriel’s activities, asking questions was the next logical step. And he’d already spent every other minute since leaving her at the hospital wondering how he was going to deal with the issue of the coin. No idea how he could work his way around that one without sounding like he lived in a rubber room.

  Her gaze fixed on him. “What about you? Did you finish all your homework before breakfast?”

  There it was. Logical step number one.

  It was part of his job to be observant and read people as they talked to him. He’d figure out last night that when she got direct, her eyes grew clearer. What he’d been too distracted to notice then, however, was how striking they became, the blue more vivid, her obvious intelligence more unrestrained. Her inquiries might leave him a little uncomfortable, but he’d encourage those kinds of questions all day.

  Smart women had always been his kryptonite.

  “As much as you did before showing up at the station last night. The important thing is, we’re on the same page now, right…Olivia?”

  “I hope so, Isaac. I’m assuming if I hadn’t passed muster, you would have stood me up this morning.”

  “Nah. I don’t stand up beautiful women. Especially those who carry a gun.”

  Olivia lifted the coffee to her lips, as if trying to hide her smile. “Shamelessly flirting with
women who carry a gun might be hazardous to your health.”

  “Maybe.” He dug into his Spanish omelette. “But it’s a hell of a way to go.”

  Silence settled over the table as they both focused on their breakfasts. She dug into her food like a real person—another point in her favor. But the over-cooked bacon…Nobody’s perfect.

  “What about your friends?” She reached for the pepper. “Ms. Capra seemed upset last night.”

  He shrugged. “Remy’s a Roman candle, always waiting to be set off. I’m sure she’s fine this morning.” He had to bite his tongue to keep from adding, Nathan’s probably fucked her all better by now.

  Olivia didn’t seem convinced. “Normally when women run off like that, it means they’re pretty upset. What about Mr. Pierce? Will he be willing to speak to Stacy again? He didn’t seem happy about the situation either.”

  “Yeah, he’ll talk to her. He’s got as much of a stake in seeing Gabriel go down as either of us do.”

  “That’s good. I considered speaking to her myself, but she seems receptive to him.” She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully before adding, “He told her about his neck wound. Is that why he retired?”

  Though a swift swell of acid rose in his stomach at the mention of Nathan’s injury, Isaac tamped it down with an extra large bite of sausage as he nodded and then swallowed. “About five years ago, we were trying to take down a gang that was bringing weapons into LA, and it turned out Nathan’s girlfriend was setting us up. He quit the force and didn’t even date anyone until he met Remy last summer. So if they seem a little…invested in each other, that’s why. They pretty much saved each other’s lives.”

  Olivia chewed her last piece of bacon. “So you were awarded the medal of valor for taking out your partner’s girlfriend?”

  “That’s one way of putting it. I prefer to think of it as taking out the bitch who betrayed my best friend and broke his heart.”

 

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