Against the Sky (31 page)

“What . . . what about Lacey?” Samantha asked. “We can't leave her here. They'll kill her.”

Just then Derek moved, firing as he rounded the corner of the motel. Nick pounded the area with gunfire, laying down cover. Cord's rifle echoed from the hilltop. Noah fired a couple of bursts as Derek motioned to Lacey, who crouched in the corridor. He laid down cover fire as she ran toward him. Derek pulled her around the outside of the building to safety.

Gunshots erupted from every angle. Derek popped up, ripped off a stream of bullets from his AR-15. The Russians fired back, and a shot winged Derek, took him down to one knee. Clutching his shoulder, he ducked back out of sight behind the building.

Nick checked his watch. Nine thirty. Where the hell were the feds?

The fleeting thought occurred that maybe Cord was right, and Charlie was the turncoat. Then he heard the sound of a bullhorn, coming from the south end of the motel.

“This is the FBI! You're under arrest! Lay down your weapons!”

Their answer was a barrage of Russian gunfire. The perfect time, Nick figured, to make their escape. Ferrell knew they'd be bugging out. They just needed to get safely away.

Opening the rear door of the Explorer, he slid into the backseat, tugged Samantha in behind him, then climbed over into the driver's seat next to where Carol crouched in the foot-well and started the engine.

In minutes he was roaring down the hill, heading back toward the lodge. Two familiar sets of headlights fell in behind him. They were on their way home. The Russians would live or die, depending on the choices they made in the next few minutes. Samantha was safe. Carol and Lacey were safe. Derek needed medical attention, but they weren't far from the hospital.

Nick couldn't be sure it was over until he spoke to Charlie, but with luck, Bela Varga would soon be in FBI custody. The feds would have the evidence Nick had collected, and Carol would testify.

In the rearview mirror, Nick caught a glimpse of Samantha in the backseat, her face as pale as glass, her expression hard as steel. The lady was amazing. Nick wished he could hold her.

Instead, he drove up in front of the emergency room at Mat-Su Regional Medical Center, this time for a friend with a gunshot wound.

Thinking of the Russians who'd been shot full of holes, he figured the place would be doing a booming business tonight. At least the women were safe and Samantha was back with him where she belonged.

Nick almost smiled. He'd been in a shoot-out with half a dozen gangsters. Derek was wounded, Nick was sporting a bruise the size of Moscow, and he was back in front of the hospital emergency room.

Sometimes retirement could really be a bitch.

Derek's gunshot wound was a through and through. His shoulder had been patched up and he had been released. The doctors had kept Lacey overnight for observation. Nick hadn't realized how badly she'd been beaten until he'd seen her battered face in the lights of the emergency room.

He'd still been at the hospital when he'd gotten a call from Charlie Ferrell. According to Charlie, the Russians who came out of the shoot-out alive were all in custody. In a show of bravado, Connie Bela Varga had taken on the feds and gone down in a burst of gunfire. He'd landed flat on his back with a bullet in his chest and one in his leg, but the bastard was still breathing.

Tomorrow, Ferrell and a couple of FBI agents would arrive at the Salmon Lodge to bring Carol and Evie into protective custody.

Until then, Nick and the rest of the group were all spending the night at the lodge.

It was two o'clock in the morning when they sat in Noah's living room, the guys still too jacked up to sleep. Carol was upstairs with Evie, but Samantha sat next to him on the sofa. Nick wasn't ready to let her get more than a few feet away.

A nice fire roared in the big stone fireplace. Maybe eventually, they'd all calm down enough to go to bed.

“Since I've been shot at twice today,” Noah said, “I figure I deserve to know how all this came down.”

Cord took a sip of his coffee. “I think you owe him that much,” he said to Nick as Samantha brought out a fresh pot of coffee and refilled everyone's cups. He glanced back over at Noah. “Though I warn you, it's complicated.”

Noah shrugged his massive shoulders. “Hell, it's only two a.m. The bars don't even close till five.”

Nick smiled. “It all began with Jimmy. The kid who lives next door to me.” He explained about the boy's belief that his father had been murdered, how the mob had figured he knew more about his dad's death than he actually did and come after him.

“They tried to scare him away. When that didn't work, they set his house on fire, destroying any evidence at the crime scene.”

“How did you get the flash drive?” Derek asked.

“Samantha got into the client accounts in Alex Evans's office. She downloaded the info. Being a friend and a CPA, Lisa Graham took a look, discovered Evans had been laundering money for Luka Dragovich. He's one of the top people in the Russian mob.”

Noah whistled.

Nick explained about his trip to Fairbanks, accidentally getting the feds involved, and trying to convince Taggart to start an investigation into Evans's murder.

Nick told them about the connection between Bela Varga, Fedorko, and Dragovich, how the Russians were running drugs and trafficking underage girls.

“Of course, Taggart, wanting to big-deal it, blew me off,” Nick said darkly.

“After that, things went rapidly downhill,” Cord added.

“So how did they find out the kid was at your place?” Noah asked.

“Taggart wanted me to bring Nick in for questioning,” Cord said. “Apparently he or someone in the department found out I had a cabin up near Hatcher's Pass. Since Nick and I are friends, whoever it was must have figured there was a good chance Nick had stashed the boy there.”

“Which means either Taggart or someone in the department got that information to the Russians,” Nick added. “Most likely through Ford Sanders, the dirty fed.”

“So Ford also passed them the info about the disk,” Noah said, “along with the ledger and the witness, Carol Johnson.”

“Which led to one helluva firefight tonight,” Derek finished, unconsciously rubbing the wound in his shoulder.

There was a lot more to it, of course, but Nick figured those were the basics, and it
was
two in the morning.

“Just one more question,” Noah said. “How did they know you were here at Salmon Lake?”

“I don't know, unless . . .” Nick's head came up. “Jesus, every time I looked up, Samantha was digging around on her computer. Maybe they tracked her here.”

“That's exactly what they did,” Samantha admitted, regret stamped all over her pretty face. “They told me they used some new kind of Trojan horse. I'm really sorry, Noah.”

“Not your fault, honey. None of this is anyone's fault but the bad guys'.”

Nick reached over and caught her hand, brought it to his lips. Even at two in the morning, after brawling with the Russians, she looked good enough to eat. Nick didn't dare let his mind wander in that direction.

She smiled at Noah, and Nick read the relief in her face. And the exhaustion. Earlier he had cleaned up the mess in the cabin, hoping to ease some of Samantha's bad memories when he brought her back.

He stood up from the sofa, took her hand and pulled her up with him. “I think it's time we all went to bed. The feds will have a thousand questions tomorrow. In the meantime, we could all use a little sleep.”

And he wanted nothing more than to climb in bed with Samantha, hold her close, feel the beat of her heart next to his and know she was safe.

He didn't need more than that. At least not tonight.

 

 

Monday finally arrived. Nick was back in his house and, damn, it felt good to be there. It was late afternoon. Special Agent Charlie Ferrell sat in the living room. He was a few inches shorter than Nick's six-foot-two, a big, bulky man, and solid beneath his slightly rumpled black suit.

“You were right,” Charlie said from where he sat in a comfortable overstuffed chair. “Bela Varga rolled on Fedorko. Fedorko's singing some song-and-dance about false arrest, but there's a good chance he'll roll on Luka Dragovich to save his own ass. Varga and Fedorko are both facing felony charges of aggravated promotion of prostitution and sexual abuse of children, along with a laundry list of other charges a mile long.”

“What about Ford Sanders?”

“So far he's lawyered up and keeping his mouth shut, but it's only a matter of time. Thanks to Carol Johnson, he's going down, one way or another.” Charlie smiled. “She and Evie are doing great, by the way. We've placed them both in WITSEC. The marshals have taken them somewhere out of state; even I don't know where. They'll fly her back to testify if they need her, but by then she'll be established somewhere new. I think she's going to be okay.”

“That's nice to hear,” Samantha said from beside Nick on the sofa.

“What about the dirty cop in the Anchorage PD?” Nick asked. “He's gotta be the guy who tipped Sanders off to the location of Cord's cabin. Have they found the bastard yet?”

“Not yet, but Internal Affairs is leaning hard on anyone who knew anything about the case. Sooner or later, we'll find him.”

“My money's on Taggart.”

Charlie grinned. “Yeah, I remember how much you liked the captain when we were working that serial together.”

“Guy's a real dick.”

“Doesn't mean he's dirty. But if he is, he's finished.”

Nick grunted. “Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.”

Ferrell laughed and stood up from his chair. “I've got to go. Last night we made multiple raids on Dragovich's motels. We rounded up a batch of those young girls. With their help, we'll find the rest of them. We'll get the girls back home or somewhere safe.”

“That's really good news,” Samantha said, also rising.

“Thanks for everything, Charlie.” Nick and Ferrell shook hands.

Samantha walked over, went up on her toes and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” Charlie said, his face a little red.

“Stay safe,” said Nick.

Charlie smiled. “You, too.”

Nick watched the man head out the door, turned and pulled Samantha into his arms. “It's over, honey. Now our lives can get back to normal.”

Samantha looked up at him. “Haven't you figured it out yet, Nick? For you, that was normal.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about? I'm not a cop anymore and I don't want to be.”

“You're not a cop. Not in the literal sense. But what you did for Jimmy and Mary, for Carol and Evie—that's what you do. Investigating, protecting, solving crimes. It's in your blood and you're really good at it. That kind of work is what calls to you. You might think it isn't what you want, but I think it is. I think you loved every minute of what we were doing.”

Nick reached out and caught her shoulders. “I didn't love putting you in danger. I didn't love seeing you with that big Russian's gun stuck in your ribs.”

Samantha just shrugged. “There are hazards to any job.” She smiled. “Besides, you saved me, didn't you?”

Thinking of those moments, he shifted against the ache in his back where that bullet had pounded into his tactical vest. “When I realized those thugs had taken you from the lodge . . . Jesus, Samantha, I never want to feel that way again.”

She gazed up at him and something shifted, darkened in her features. Her big brown eyes filled with tears. “You won't have to, Nick. You won't have to worry about me again. It's time for me to go home.”

“No.” He shook his head, feeling as if someone had just turned the room upside down. “We haven't talked. We need more time. We need to work things out.”

She wiped at the tears that started rolling down her cheeks. “I have to go home. It's time, Nick. Past time if you want the truth. Talking isn't going to change anything. I have to leave. I need to be with my family, my friends. I've already arranged my flight. I leave at eleven forty-five in the morning.”

Nick drew her closer, wrapped his arms around her. “I don't want you to go, baby. Not yet.”

For an instant, she hung onto him and his world seemed to right itself. Then she pressed her hands against his chest and eased away.

“Try to understand, Nick. I have to do this. Don't make it harder than it is already.” Reaching up, she touched his cheek, leaned up and kissed him, then turned and walked off down the hall.

Nick watched her small figure disappear into the guest room. Samantha was leaving. Inside his chest, his heart felt like fifty pounds of lead. Finding enough air to breathe seemed an insurmountable task.

And yet he knew she was right. Samantha couldn't be happy in Alaska. And he sure as hell couldn't make it in San Francisco. Add to that, they were nothing at all alike.

Nick grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and strode to the door. Maybe the cold would ease the ache in his chest. He hoped so. Nick walked out on the porch and stepped into the cleansing air of a chill Alaska day.

 

 

It was Tuesday. Today she was leaving. Samantha rolled her wheeled carry-on out into the living room. Last night's TV news had predicted a new storm coming in. She said a silent prayer that her plane would be in the air well before the weather changed for the worse.

She tried not to think of the turbulent flight back to San Francisco, and instead concentrated on how good it was going to feel to be back home. She hadn't seen her mother in weeks, hadn't talked to her parents in what seemed ages. She hadn't even told her best friend about her terrifying adventures in Alaska.

She hadn't mentioned that she had fallen head over heels in love with Nick and that leaving him was tearing her in two.

There was so much she needed to say. So much heartbreak to get past. So much healing she needed to do.

As much as she had wanted to spend her last night in bed with Nick, she had stayed in the guest room, unable to fall asleep. Her heart was breaking. Every moment she spent with him only made her feel worse.

Since the moment she'd told Nick she was leaving, he had barely said three words. They had eaten in silence, then gone to bed early. Her flight was leaving at just before noon. After a stop in Portland, she'd be back in San Francisco by eight o'clock tonight. Back in her own home, back in her own bed, back in her own life.

Tears welled, burned behind her eyes. She was leaving so much behind. The baby she once hadn't wanted and then had come to love. The man she had fallen in love with and would miss for the rest of her life.

“Are you ready?” The sound of Nick's voice made her heart squeeze.

She pasted on a too bright smile. “I'm ready.”

Nick grabbed her carry-on and tugged it out back to where his Explorer sat in front of the garage. Tossing the suitcase into the back, he opened the passenger door and helped her climb inside.

The ride to the airport was solemn. There was so much left to say and nothing important she would risk saying.

She struggled to find a neutral topic. “If I remember, you're supposed to have a big job coming up. Something Cord found for you before I arrived. Something to do with protecting a big, corporate executive?”

He nodded but didn't glance her way, just kept his beautiful blue eyes on the road. “That's right. Bill Foley's the CEO of Great Northern Petroleum. He's bringing his family up to look around. He's been spending so much time in Anchorage, he's thinking of buying a second home in the area.”

“So you'll be guarding his family?”

He nodded. “His wife and two kids.”

She thought of everything he'd done for Jimmy, the way he had risked himself to protect her. “They're lucky to have you,” she said softly.

Nick turned the wheel and pulled the Explorer onto the shoulder of the road. He jammed the car into park, caught her shoulders and dragged her across the console into his lap, kissed her long and deep. Samantha felt a rush of heat and a constriction in her heart that made her ache all over.