by Jamie Craig
“Tell me where she’d keep the girl if she had to. If there’s no evidence she was storing the body there, then you know it wasn’t her.”
Gabriel compressed his lips and shook his head, rather childishly. Olivia didn’t seem the least annoyed or put off by his response. Her smile was as grimly professional as when she stepped into the small room, and she rose gracefully from the table.
“I’ll find it. If I have to seize every single piece of property you own and search it myself.”
The threat didn’t unsettle him. No matter where she searched, no matter how thorough she was, she’d never find evidence that Marisol had betrayed him or, by extension, the Silver Maiden. He didn’t know who could have bludgeoned poor Sophe, but that explained why Marisol had failed to retrieve him from prison. Whatever had happened would result in a significant delay. He would wait for her, though. No matter how long it took. Patience. His new watchword.
Chapter Nine
Remy had faced a lot of challenges in her life. Losing her mom when she was a teenager. The pain had been endless, but not as endless as the days and nights spent by herself on the street, fighting until her fingernails were raw and bleeding just to see the end of another night. Fighting to save her second family from Senator Henryk’s attacks. Getting tossed about in time with a psycho cop on her ass—that same senator’s daughter, who’d been all the more determined to find Remy due to her father’s extremism and her fury over Remy’s escape. Falling in love with Nathan had been easy, but figuring out how to fit into his life had been more frightening than popping up in the wrong decade.
Walking into the house Isaac shared with Nathan was harder than all of that.
If he’d actually been there, it would have been completely impossible to walk through the door. Isaac didn’t expect him back from Palm Springs until late that night, and there was no chance of seeing him. Disappointment warred with relief, that battle only abandoned when she stepped into their quiet bungalow in a sleepy neighborhood. It was so damned domestic, it made her heart hurt.
They kept the place looking nice, the stamp-sized lawn mowed short and crisp, the short cement walkway leading to the front door lined intermittently with lavender and smaller, flowering bushes. The porch was flooded with light as they approached, courtesy of what seemed to be a fucking spotlight. Nobody would get within ten feet of the door without alerting the entire block.
Isaac entered first, flicking a switch on the wall before stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. Her initial step was firm, more confident than she felt, but when her gaze fell upon the pictures on the foyer’s walls, she faltered.
Some of it was framed art, typical of what she’d seen in Isaac’s apartment in 2010. But others were personal pictures, like an older couple lounging in deck chairs at the beach, laughing at something private between them, and the portraits of Nathan and Isaac in their uniforms when they’d graduated from the academy. It was nothing like Nathan’s apartment, which might have had one picture of his parents, but no art or anything of sentimental value. What happened to all of this? Where had it gone? Did he destroy the photographs? Or were they boxed somewhere, carefully packed and stored away by Isaac until the day Nathan asked for them again? She reached out for the closest one, her fingers grazing Nathan’s almost unrecognizable face.
“My partner,” Isaac said. “Now you’ll know him when he finally decides to show.” He moved deeper into the house. “Though I’ll tell you now, he’s goofier-looking in person.”
She didn’t think he looked goofy. He looked young. So young. No lines on his forehead, nothing at the corners of his mouth except the laugh lines from his broad, easy smile. His eyes were clear, the color as vivid as the most brilliant summer sky. No bad memories to haunt him. The path in front of him bright with promise. His shirt collar hid his neck, free of scars, no residual evidence of a duplicitous Susanna slitting his throat.
This Nathan swelled with hope. He believed in the future. He had no idea of the pain that was still to come.
I miss you.
“You want something to drink?”
Isaac’s raised voice snapped Remy from her malaise, and she lifted her chin as she stepped away from the wall. “What do you have?”
The foyer emptied into a tidy living room that said everything about the two men living there. At least it did to somebody who knew what to look for. The huge entertainment center dominating the far wall must have been Isaac’s purchase. The fifty-inch television had a proud place in the center, surrounded by countless DVDs. The television was another unaccountable disappearance. The opposite wall had cube shelving units crammed with books of every size. They had to be Nathan’s treasures, and there were just as many books as DVDs, if not more. The soft brown suede couch belonged to Isaac, the cluttered desk and laptop facing away from the TV had to be Nathan’s domain.
Isaac appeared in a doorway leading to the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for? I’ve got beer, I’ve got water, I’ve got juice. There’s probably some Diet Coke or something like it in the back of the fridge too.”
“Beer. Thanks.” Alcohol might make this easier.
When he returned, he had two longnecks of something dark dangling from his fingers. She ignored that he lingered a beat too long as she took the offered beer, his fingertips brushing hers.
“Have a seat.”
She curled up in the corner, tucking her legs beneath her before she remembered the cut on the back of her calf. The way her luck was going tonight, she’d rip it open and leave a blood trail out the door when she left.
Isaac took the opposite corner, angling his body to face hers. “So, no bullshit here. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Who’s the woman?”
“I don’t know her full name.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
“One of the goons I got away from called her Ms. de los Rios. I never caught her first name.”
He sipped at his beer, his gaze assessing her. Gabriel’s last name didn’t provoke the usual, rabid dog response it did in him. “What does she have to do with Parker?”
“I’m not sure. I just know she’s bad news.” She picked at the corner of the beer’s label. “I heard her talking about other girls too. I got the impression I wasn’t the first.”
“All the more reason for you to file a complaint. Honestly, my hands are pretty much tied until you do.”
“I know. But no offense, these people, they don’t play by the same rules you do.”
He grinned, a twinkle appearing in his eye for the first time since they’d left the warehouse behind. “Maybe, but the thing is, I’m very good at the rules I play by.”
She laughed because it sounded so much like him, that brash cockiness about his own superiority that pissed off so many people, including her more often than not. “That’ll come in handy.”
“So will your statement.”
“You never give up, do you?”
“On the things that matter?” His smile remained, but a solemnity crept into his direct gaze. “Never. Why’d you come to L.A.? And please tell me it wasn’t because you had dreams of being the next Julia Roberts. You seem smarter than that.”
A sip at her beer let her stall for a few seconds. “Just something I had to do. Followed my nose, and I ended up here.”
“Do you have family here?”
“Not…really.”
“So someone, somewhere, is missing you.”
Her gaze ducked. An interrogation about Marisol would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than this. “You could say that.” Her grip tightened on the bottle to hide her trembling fingers. “What about you?”
“You’re deflecting. I thought we said no bullshit.”
“I answered your question.” She cocked a brow at him. “You’re the one avoiding mine.”
The corner of his mouth tipped, and he shifted in his seat to turn away from her daring stare. “I guess I had that one coming.”
“It’s not that easy.”
Remy grinned. “Chicken.”
“Seriously. L.A.’s home now.”
Now. Isaac didn’t talk about his past. From what she’d seen, he was very much a let-it-go-and-move-on kind of guy. The few times she’d asked Nathan questions about it, she’d been gently—but definitely—rebuffed. The most he’d tell her was that Isaac came from a pretty standard background, didn’t have any major problems growing up, went to the academy, and became a cop. There had to be more to the story, and Nathan would eventually give her the details. If she asked in just the right way. But it wasn’t until then, until sitting in Isaac’s strange living room and drinking his beer, that she cared.
She edged closer on the couch, hoping it would instill some confidence in Isaac. “But it hasn’t always been.”
Taking a deep breath, he stretched an arm across the back of the couch, inches away from touching her. “My family’s up Eureka way. Nothing special. The usual mom, dad, brother combination. Now your turn.”
“D.C. My mom died a few years ago, so what I call family is mostly friends. People who mean more to me than anything.”
He nodded. “I get that.”
“Is your brother a cop too?”
“He’s seven. He’s not even a hall monitor.” Isaac paused. “I don’t think.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a big age gap.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his smile was long gone. “My parents call him their second chance.”
Remy grimaced. “Ouch.”
Isaac waved away her sympathy. “Not because of me. I was varsity football, student senator, the whole shebang. I never gave my mom a reason for trouble.”
“Your…mom.” He’d chosen his words deliberately. “What about your dad?”
“He wasn’t around for a lot of those years.” Isaac fell silent for a moment, brushing away imaginary lint from the back of the couch. His mental debate on how much to say warred across his face. He still gave away too much. She saw when the battle resolved itself, his mouth tightening before he spoke as if it really didn’t want to give up the information.
“My parents split up when I was eight. Dad was a workaholic who liked to spend more than he made, Mom was trying to keep us away from the collection agencies by working two jobs, and it all fell apart. They got divorced, and he took off.”
“So, you have a half brother?”
“No, he’s all McGuire. Dad turned back up when I was sixteen like nothing had happened. I came home from school one day, and I found them sitting at the kitchen table together, talking. No fighting. No screaming. Dad was even smiling. And I got so pissed off, I threw a punch at him when he tried to stand up.” Bitterness laced his tone. “That’s when Mom yelled. At me, if you can believe it.”
Isaac clearly couldn’t. In his father’s absence, Isaac had become the man of the house. He’d probably claimed the responsibility with pride, and expected loyalty in return. That was all Isaac ever asked for, and his mother had thrown that back in his face, choosing the man who abandoned them over the son who’d grown up in the shadow of his mistakes. The senior McGuire’s return would’ve felt like a slap in the face, especially if his mom took the other man’s side.
“My turn.” Anything to drag Isaac out of the cesspool of his memories. “What else do you want to know?”
His head tilted as he contemplated his response. “When I get this mess of yours sorted out, where can I take you for a real date that’s going to guarantee me a second?”
She laughed at his bravado. “That’s cheating.”
“It’s strategic.”
“Breaking the rules.”
“You seem to prefer guys who do.”
“Maybe, but I’m not sure if I’m going to stick around after all this.”
“L.A.’s not that bad. I know it must not seem like that—”
“I know. I just haven’t been holding any aces. But those people I left behind? I miss them. It hurts.”
Isaac leaned forward, the hand closest to her reaching out to skim across her cheek. For a brief, bracing moment, she was convinced he was going to take the opportunity to kiss her, especially when his thumb came dangerously close to her lower lip.
“I’m lost.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but Isaac was still holding her. “I’m not sure how to find my way back home.”
“You didn’t leave yourself a crumb trail to follow?”
“I guess I’m not that smart.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He was still cupping her cheek. No, she was still letting him. The contact grounded her, forced her to focus. “You were smart enough to let me help you.”
“And can you help me?”
“That’s up to you. I’ll do whatever I can if you let me.”
Before she could speak, the front door opened. Remy jerked away from Isaac’s touch, whipping her head around in time to see Nathan stroll into the room like he didn’t have a care in the world. She grasped the arm of the couch to keep from leaping to her feet and throwing herself at him, her blood surging like Isaac probably hoped it would for him. But he so obviously wasn’t her Nathan that she was able to keep her ass on the cushion.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” His gaze jumped from her to Isaac and then back to her again. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
“And I didn’t realize you were going to bail on your parents a day early.” Setting down his near-empty bottle on the coffee table, Isaac rose and crossed to take one of the bags weighing Nathan down. “What happened to your holiday spirit?”
“It went up in flames somewhere in the middle of the leftover Christmas pudding today.” While Isaac relieved him of two of the Trader Joe’s bags he carried, Nathan set the rest of them down by the entrance, his curious eyes still on Remy. “Since it doesn’t look like he’s going to bother introducing us…” He crossed the distance, holding his hand out. “Hi. I’m Nathan.”
Hesitantly, she took it, hoping he didn’t realize how sweaty her palm was or how badly she was shaking. It felt like the whole world was quaking inside her. “Maggie.”
If he did, it didn’t show on his face. His smile widened. “Ah, the mysterious Maggie. I should’ve guessed.”
Remy pulled back before the flutters in her stomach took control. “I’m not so mysterious.”
“That’s not the way Isaac made it sound.”
“Oh, really?”
Isaac darted forward. “Hey, don’t listen to this joker. He just likes to make trouble for me whenever he can.”
“From the sound of it, a lot of people do.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “First, the bartender at Smokey’s, now your partner—”
“We actually have a club,” Nathan said. “I’ll make sure to teach you the secret handshake when Isaac’s not around.”
She stifled her laugh when Isaac rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why I don’t bring girls around here.”
Nathan looked like he desperately wanted to retort to that, but his quick glance at Remy curbed his tongue. Instead, he smiled at her. Her heart skipped a few beats at how innocent and open it was. “It was lovely meeting you, Maggie. And I sincerely hope I see you around here more often.”
“Same here.” When she realized her voice had gone soft on him, she deliberately smirked and added, “Somebody’s got to help you keep Isaac in line.”
His laughter lingered even after he’d scooped up his bags and headed down the hallway to what she presumed was his bedroom. Her job of avoiding him had just gotten a hell of a lot easier. The signs were obvious. He was being the respectful friend. Any advances she made now would be rebuffed. Homesickness settled in her stomach like dead weight, and the prospect of going back to her hotel room alone, knowing Nathan was so close, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it, made her want to scream in frustration.
“He’ll probably stay in there for the rest of the night,” Isaac said behind her. “We don’t have to worry about being interrupted again.”
But Nathan’s presence was exactly what she wanted. She forced herself to stand with a smile, like it wasn’t killing her to continue the act.
“I’ve got a better idea.” She nodded toward the door behind him. “Why don’t we go get my statement taken care of? Before I lose my nerve.”
Though it had been his suggestion to start with, he looked less than pleased with her offer. “Are you sure? Not that I don’t think you should, but it’s late. And it’ll be even later by the time we’re done.”
“The sooner we do it, the sooner we can go look at that warehouse, though, right?”
“We? You mean me.”
She didn’t, but she had hours to work on him. “Sure, whatever you say.”
With a sigh, Isaac shook his head. “You’re going to push me as far as you can, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then, let’s go.” He led the way into the foyer, pausing before reaching for the door. “This does not count as our first date, by the way. Just so we’re clear.”
“Crystal.”
Though hopefully, that first date would never become a reality. Because she wanted Nathan—her Nathan—and if she had to track Marisol down and chain her to a wall to get the answers she needed, Remy was going to get home to him as soon as humanly possible.
For all her efforts to impress upon Gabriel the importance of having men with the girls who were not only trustworthy but competent as well, Marisol had to deal with the reality that her cousin had been too blinded by his dreams of the Silver Maiden to satisfy their needs. Cruz and Ernesto were ideal physical specimens, but they lacked both common sense and natural instinct. Allowing Remy Capra to escape was a perfect example of that.