Controlling Interest (25 page)

“But they've corresponded over the last year or so. They probably know each other better than Bradley and I did. Love isn't all lust and heavy breathing.”

Matt suddenly grinned. “Did you have lust and heavy breathing with Bradley the Badly?”

“Of course not. That was just a figure of speech.” She made a face at him. “Anyway, back to Mr. Haq's question. How
do
we know she didn't get off the boat in Helena?”

“We don't.” Matt shrugged. “But I think it's safe to say rural Arkansas isn't her destination. If we get to Vicksburg and find out she gave us the slip in Helena, we'll backtrack.”

“This is a very frustrating business, isn't it?” Natalie crammed a forkful of meringue and coconut cream into her mouth.

“It can be.” Matt shoved his slice of pie over to her side of the table. “I hate coconut.”

“Oh, goody.” Natalie sighed happily. “There are definite perks to the job.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Y
ou think playing pinball is a sin?” Matt hovered, ready to jump in if Natalie needed help. Since she'd just lit up half the Motel 6 arcade with Luke Skywalker's light saber and nailed a couple thousand points, that wasn't likely. The Death Star, hovering just above Chewbacca's hairy head, blinked malignantly in the background.

“I don't think so.” Tongue between her teeth, Natalie pulled the spring and let loose another ball. It bounced off R2-D2's feet and set off an explosion of bells and whistles. She worked the flippers, racking up points, and still managed to talk. “But just in case, I won't tell if you won't tell.”

Matt folded his arms and watched her, entertained. He'd called to tell her Cole had found an American named Zach Carothers attached to the embassy in Islamabad, apparently with ties to NCIS. Natalie wanted to come down to the lobby and discuss it, and they wound up in the arcade.

Pinball in the middle of the night. Nothing about this girl was normal.

She was dressed in a pair of flamingo-colored knit shorts, green rubber flip-flops, and a black
Wicked
T-shirt. The back of it read, “Defy Gravity.” Her hair was pushed back with a polka-dot headband, and she didn't have on a scrap of makeup. Though he'd have cut out his tongue before using it out loud, the word “adorable” came to mind.

He shifted to lean an elbow against the side of the machine. “What were you doing up at this time of night?”

“Reading.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. In their natural state they were a soft dark brown, with bronze tips that matched the freckles sprinkled across her nose. There was something innocent and alluring in that scrubbed-for-the-night look.

Back up the truck, Hogan
.
You got her down here to keep your mind occupied, remember? Not to take it down dangerous trails.

“Reading what? The newspaper? The
Farmer's Almanac
?
Vogue
?”

“Actually, I'm a John Grisham fan. I like courtroom drama.” Her last ball dribbled off C-3PO's shoulder. She stuck out her bottom lip. “Oh, fudgesicles.”

“My turn, Pinball Wizard.” Matt traded places with Natalie. He put a couple more quarters in the machine and released his first ball. “Once you've testified in a case that drags on for weeks, you'll discover the real thing isn't so much fun.”

“So what were
you
doing? I had a good nap this afternoon while you drove. I would have thought you'd be dead on your feet.”

“Just channel-surfing. I'm kind of a night owl. Cole told me I should hunt up good company when I get lonesome. Keeps me out of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“You know . . . trouble.” He didn't want to say it out loud. “I used to have some bad habits, and I'm still kind of new at avoiding them. My parents go to bed with the chickens, or I would've called my dad. Didn't figure you'd mind . . .” When he glanced at her and lost his concentration, the ball caromed into the dead pocket. Red zeroes on the scoreboard glared at him. Probably what she thought of him. “I can't believe that.”

Natalie grimaced in sympathy. “Try again. You'll catch up.”

He grinned at her before sending another ball zooming up the chute. “You don't have a competitive bone in your body, do you?”

She laughed. “I don't like to hurt other people's feelings if I can help it.”

He sobered. “Is that why you came down here tonight? You didn't want to hurt my feelings? Feel free to go back to your book.”

“I'd rather talk than read any day.” She clapped her hands when he navigated a difficult shot, making the ball bing-bong several times in a high-point area. “Way to go!”

Cheered by her glowing smile, he tried to concentrate. “How come you're so good at this?”

“I used to travel with my dad sometimes during the summers. After his sales calls were done, we'd hang out in arcades and play pinball.” She patted the top of the glass. “
Star Wars
has always been my favorite.” She laughed. “When I was little, I used to twist my hair up in those Princess Leia side knots and wear my mom's bathrobe around the house.”

Matt laughed and lost control of his last ball. Shaking his head, he let her have the machine. “I can picture it. You're sort of the smart-mouth princess type.”

“What does that mean?”

“From a well-off family — Daddy's girl and all that — deciding to go into law enforcement. Takes some guts.”

“All I need is for somebody to tell me I can't do something, and I'm dead set on it. For example, I wanted to run for student body president in college, but everybody said I didn't have a chance unless I was backed by the Greek system. I was a resident assistant in my dorm, didn't do the sorority thing.” She grinned. “I was the first female to hold the position since 1980.”

“Big Woman on Campus, huh?”

She shrugged. “Well, I make friends easily, and my parents always encouraged me to go after anything I wanted to do.” A gusty sigh lifted her shoulders. “But law enforcement's a hard, cold mountain to climb. The boys' club expects you to prove yourself. I couldn't ever seem to get past the glass ceiling.” Her ball went out of play and she stared at the flashing lights. “That's the reason I was so excited about going into business on my own.” She slid him a guarded look. “I'm pretty surprised you were willing to give me a chance.”

For once, Matt thought about his answer before blurting out whatever was on his mind. The only reason he'd given her a chance was because he'd been forced to. “You're gonna make a fine detective, Natalie. You're smart, you use your instincts, and you're good at getting people to talk to you. But I want control of my own agency again.”

She turned to lean back on the machine. “I know,” she sighed. “I'm kinda tired, Matt. We'd better try to get some sleep before we head to the river in the morning.”

Yeah, she definitely thought he was a loser. “Okay. Even though you beat the stuffing out of me, I'll walk you to your room.” He offered his elbow.

“Chivalry lives.” She smiled and hooked her arm through his.

They headed outside and up the stairwell to the second floor. His room was on the opposite end of the hall from hers, but he turned with her to make sure she made it inside okay. In front of her door, she released his arm and fished in the pocket of her shorts for her key card.

Tension suddenly hooked his stomach. How many times had he stood in front of a woman's door, expecting to be invited inside? How many times had he teased until he got the invitation and then took whatever was offered without one thought for the emotional consequences? That wasn't going to happen here, of course, but how did he know what was going on in her head?

“Natalie, I'm sorry about this situation.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her face. “I don't want to hurt you.”

She looked up, eyes wary. “Is that on the menu?”

“I'm no good at friendships with women.” He looked away. “Whatever happens with this case and our . . . our deal, I wish you the best.”

“Matt, what's the matter? You didn't call me up in the middle of the night just to play pinball.”

Matt opened and shut his mouth a couple of times.

His phone rang, startling them both. “Who'd be calling this time of night?” He looked at his phone “That's weird.” The number was blocked. He flipped open the phone. “Matt Hogan here.”

“Mr. Hogan, this is Agent Zach Carothers. I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I'm on the other side of the world. I didn't think you'd want to wait.”

He looked at Natalie to see if she'd heard. She was wide-eyed, grinning. “No problem, Agent Carothers. Give me a second to find a better place to talk. We're out in the open here.”

“Come on in my room,” Natalie said, fumbling to unlock her door.

Matt followed her inside and sat down in a chair while Natalie perched on the bed. “Okay, we're a little more sheltered. I'm really surprised to hear from you so quickly.”

“Who's with you?”

“My partner, Natalie Tubberville. She knows everything.”

“Okay.” Carothers sounded hesitant. “What I'm going to tell you is sensitive. But first, tell me about Yasmine. Is she alright?”

“Judging by her ability to run when necessary and keep us off her trail, she's in good shape,” Matt said ruefully. “Right now she's on a riverboat cruise headed to Vicksburg, Mississippi. We think.”

“Then she's already married?”

“No. She absconded at the airport four days ago. We've been running her down ever since.”

“Good Lord. Haq will kill her.”

Matt nearly fell out of his chair. “What?”

“Listen, Hogan, this is all on the q.t., you understand?”

“S-sure. Of course.”

“We've been watching Haq for a year or so, suspecting his involvement in arms trading with Al-Qaeda. Trying to nail him is how I met Yasmine. I didn't plan on . . .” Carothers cleared his throat. “Yasmine wasn't what I expected. When she became a Christian I knew she was in real danger. But the only way we could catch this guy red-handed was to let him go a little longer. To keep him from getting suspicious I encouraged Yasmine to go through with the wedding, thinking I'd — thinking I could get to her before it was a done deal.”

“But she must've realized something was up and decided to take things into her own hands,” Matt guessed.

“Yeah.” Carothers sighed. “Didn't realize she had that much nerve.”

“She's got plenty of nerve,” Natalie interrupted. Clearly she was hearing the whole conversation.

“Listen, Hogan, you've got to get to her before Haq does. He is completely ruthless. If she embarrasses him . . . But be careful. We don't want him to know we're on to him. I'll wrap things up here tomorrow, then fly into Pensacola.”

“Pensacola? I thought NCIS was in Virginia.”

“My office is at the NAS down there. You won't be able to reach me, but I'll call you when I get to the States.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Just — find Yasmine,” Carothers said. “I care about her a great deal.”

“You got it, man.”

Matt closed the phone and looked at Natalie. “Can you believe that?”

She was wide-eyed. “I am so not trained for this.”

“Surely they've got agents looking for her too.”

“But we're the last ones who saw her. And Haq's going to keep bugging us until we find her.”

New fear slugged Matt in the chest. “I can't believe I dragged you into this. I wish I had a way to get you home.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the most exciting thing that ever happened to me.”

“Natalie, this isn't a pinball game. This is international terrorism!”

“Which is why we need the armor of God all over us.” She bounced off the bed and sat down cross-legged in front of Matt. “I'll start, you finish.”

“Finish what?”

“Praying.” She looked up at him like he was a moron. “We should have done this a long time ago.”

His mouth opened. Then closed. She was absolutely right, and he was a spiritual kindergartener not to have thought of it. “Good idea.” He bowed his head.

“Dear Lord, thank you for being with us,” Natalie began. “Matt and I want to bring you our problems and needs and ask you to give us wisdom. Please keep Yasmine safe until we can catch up to her, and help us do that quickly. I pray you'll frustrate Jarrar Haq and keep him from hurting anybody else. Please give Zach a safe trip back to the States.”

She paused, and Matt waited for a moment to be sure she was finished. He rarely prayed in front of anybody else. But for some reason it felt perfectly natural with Natalie. He cleared his throat. “Uh, ditto.” He hesitated. Didn't that sound enlightened? But he was talking to God, not Natalie. “I mean, I agree, Lord. We really need direction bad. You know what we need, and you have us in your hand. Yasmine and Zach are a brother and sister in Christ, so I ask you to cover them and meet their needs too. Help us support and love each another in one spirit. Thank you for what you're going to do for us and in us. Thank you for your love.”

He finished, out of breath, smacked down by powerful emotions that rarely had time to catch up to him. After a moment, he looked up and found Natalie staring at him with tears dripping off her chin.

“What's wrong?”

She picked up the hem of her T-shirt and wiped her chin. “That was lovely.”

He stared at her. “I've got to get out of here,” he finally muttered and bolted out of the room.

At the door to his room, he looked over his shoulder. Natalie was standing in her doorway looking at him. He lifted a hand and waited until she'd disappeared. Inside his own room, he dropped into a chair and slid down onto his spine.