Into the Devil's Underground (27 page)

Emilie paid him no mind, leaning her head against the glass. Perhaps she hadn’t made a bad decision after all.

But how long would Madigan stay at her home? Going near Big Horn Condos was out of the question. Julian resolved to trust Emilie and left for home, praying her innocence was still intact.

A chiming brought him back to the present. After more than a hundred years, the English grandfather clock still told perfect time. Julian rose from his chair and poured himself a midnight brandy. Claire Davis had no doubt told Emilie the truth, and now the mother would be yet another distraction in the girl’s life.

Something had to be done.

25

A
TEN-POUND WEIGHT
had taken up residence inside Emilie’s head. Strange voices and annoyingly cheery music rang in her ears. She forced her sticky eyelids open to find herself watching a commercial for dog food. She’d slept with her mouth open, and slimy drool plastered her right cheek to the couch. At least her impromptu nap had lasted long enough for the room to stop spinning.

She smacked her lips together. Her tongue tasted like she’d spent the last hour licking a dirty sock. Emilie rolled off the couch and stumbled into the bathroom. She stuck her mouth under the faucet and slurped as much of the liquid as she could.

Otis sat on the toilet seat, his eyes narrowed in disapproval.

“Clearly I can’t handle my liquor.”

She had passed out seconds after Nathan deposited her in his car. He’d practically carried her to her condo and then insisted she eat something. Emilie grumbled in protest but sat obediently at the counter as Nathan set a bag of food in front of her.

“When did you get Subway?” she asked in confusion.

“While you were passed out. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so it’s just turkey and cheese. Do you want me to put anything else on it?”

Emilie shook her head. “It’s all good.”

Nathan had offered to stay, but Emilie didn’t trust herself. The alcohol was still strumming her libido. She wasn’t going to put him in another compromising position.

“Lock this door behind me,” he said. “I’m standing on the other side until I hear it click.”

Emboldened by the rum, Emilie wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to be close to him one last time.

Nathan returned the embrace. She could feel the hammering of his heart against her ear.

“Call me tomorrow. I can take you to work if you want.”

“Don’t you have a shift?” Emilie inhaled the warm scent of his cologne.

“Tomorrow night.”

“I’ll call you. But I’d better take myself to work.”

“Please let me know you’re there safely.”

“Yes, Officer Madigan.” She grinned lazily. “Wait, is that your title?”

“Close enough.” He still held her. “You’re going to be all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Nathan gazed down at her and ran his tongue over his lips. She could tell he wanted to kiss her. She didn’t think she had the strength to stop him.

A loud beeping shattered the intense moment.

“Shit.” Nathan yanked a pager from his pocket. “I have to go. SWAT just got called to help bring in a fugitive.”

A wave of sobriety washed over her. “Is it him?”

“No. A dealer Narcotics has been after for months. They’ve got him cornered.”

“Will you be negotiating with him?”

“No hostages. I’ll be going in, probably with Chris and Sarge. That’s usually how we run it.”

“Your job is dangerous,” she said, realizing that fact for the first time. “You could be killed.”

“We know what we’re doing.”

“Shit happens.”

“It won’t.” The pager sounded again. “Call me tomorrow. And lock this door.”

“Please, be careful.”

“Always.”

Now mostly awake and sober, Emilie sank down to the bathroom floor and ran her fingers over the chocolate brown rug. Nathan was a good man, the sort of person she’d always wanted but never thought she’d have a chance to be with.

He was also a cop. Until tonight, she’d only thought of him as the hot negotiator standing safely outside the danger zone. Nathan had promised he would never hurt her, but his job put him at high risk. His life could be taken at any time.

Then again, so could her own.

Otis hopped down from the toilet and stood on his hind legs to sniff her face. He blinked, trying to figure out why she was lounging on the bathroom floor.

Why had she gotten drunk?

The truth rushed back to her. The search could focus on New Orleans’s antique stores—several hundred of them.

Emilie didn’t see any light at the end. Only more confusion and fear.

*   *   *   *

N
ATHAN DUMPED HIS
Kevlar vest into the SWAT truck and took a long pull from a water bottle. Locals hung out on the fire escapes and sidewalks as the suspect was loaded into a waiting squad car. Nathan kept silent as the rest of the team celebrated the bust. His mind was on Emilie.

“What’s going on with you?” Chris asked as he unloaded his assault rifle.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Either you got man PMS or something’s up. Talk.”

“I can’t here. Too many sensitive ears. Let’s go to Ike’s after shift’s over.”

“I only need one guess to know what—or should I say who—you’re referring to.”

“The correct phrasing would be ‘to whom.’”

“Shut up, nerd.”

Ike’s was an all-night diner just a few blocks from the station. Cops usually filled the seats, but between the shift change and the early hour, the place was mostly empty. A few early birds—or late-nighters—sat at the counter. Nathan and Chris settled into a back booth.

“So Emilie Davis has your panties in a twist?” Chris dumped a load of creamer into his coffee.

“Yeah.”

“Not smart.”

“I know.”

Chris sighed with pleasure as the server placed a large plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. “She must be one hell of a woman to pull your head out of the sand.”

“She is.” Nathan slathered mustard onto his bacon cheeseburger. “She’s smart and funny. She’s been through a lot, and she’s tough.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about a girl like that. The closest thing was that bitch Ava, and you settled for her.”

“Emilie’s different.”

“You’re walking a fine line.” Chris dumped ketchup onto his eggs. “She’s an open case.”

“We haven’t done anything inappropriate.” He could keep himself in check. Just being next to her was enough right now.

“Yet.”

“I can keep myself in check”

“Right. No one’s perfect, dude, not even you. Hormones get the best of us all sometimes.”

Nathan didn’t want to admit how right his friend was. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t stay away from her. Hell, I can’t even stop thinking about her.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Why?” He caught the tone in his friend’s voice and braced himself for a lecture.

“I’m sure she’s great, but she’s also damaged goods. Whatever her story is, she’s got a ton of baggage.”

“I know what it is,” Nathan said. “Her mother was awful, and so was her ex. The fact that she’s a functioning member of society is a testament to her strength.” Despite all the hell she’d been through, Emilie didn’t hate people or her life. And she wasn’t afraid to admit to her own mistakes. That took strength many people didn’t have.

“I trust your judgment about anyone’s character, you know that. But I can’t let you fuck up your career over a woman.”

He wouldn’t. But standing by and waiting for something bad to happen to her was out of the question. “I’m being careful.”

“You’re going to slip. It’s inevitable.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“There’s only one option.” Chris polished off his eggs and started on the bacon.

“I’m not abandoning her.” The ferocity of his words surprised him, but they were the God’s truth. Whatever had ignited between them had permanently tethered Nathan.

“Did I say that?”

“Then what?”

“Snake turned up in the system yet?”

“Nothing,” Nathan said.

“So he’s either dead or in the drains somewhere.”

“What’s your point?”

“For a genius, you’re as dumb as a rock sometimes,” Chris said. “If we can find Snake, we have a shot at finding Creepy.”

“Ronson’s on it,” Nathan said.

“She going back into the tunnels? Because that’s where he’ll be.”

“Not yet. She wants to canvass the jails and streets.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. Nathan finally realized what he was getting at.

“You want to search the tunnels for Snake.”

“Think of it as a field trip.” Chris grinned. “Even if we don’t find him, we’ll see all sorts of new and exciting things.”

“I’ve seen enough of the tunnels to last a lifetime.” The smell and the despair still lingered in Nathan’s memory.

“Snake’s your best chance. And since Creepy planned to hide Emilie in the tunnels, getting to know them might not be a bad idea.”

A chill settled over Nathan at his friend’s implication. “All right. We’ll go back in.”

*   *   *   *

L
EAVING HER CAR
had been so stupid. Emilie’s late afternoon pity-party yesterday had landed her in a cab today that reeked of sun-dried leather and stale vomit. The vehicle’s shocks were nonexistent, and her cabbie managed to hit every pothole, sending the tremors straight to her pounding head.

“You want off in front of the bank?” The balding cabbie asked.

“In the parking lot, please. I need to check on my car—the white Impala.”

He swung sharply into the lot and bounced hard off a speed bump. “That it?”

“Yeah.” Emilie dug into her wallet.

“Looks like you got a ticket.”

Her hand paused in midair. She had a parking pass. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” He looped around the lot and beat a path to the street.

Dread flashed through her as she approached the car. Stuck underneath her driver’s side windshield wiper, a piece of ordinary notebook paper fluttered in the gentle breeze. Her futile hope for a solicitor’s flyer was dashed by the neat handwriting peeking out from the folded paper.

Claire must have come back. What other gems had she left for Emilie?

Emilie snatched the letter and began to read.

Now you know the truth, my love, but only part of it. I no longer care about the material items owed to me. My only concern is you. Only I understand your true soul. I see your kindness and character, and I love you for the woman you’ve become. Do not fret. Everything will be as it should very soon.

“Oh, my God.” Emilie leaned against the car, ignoring the hot sting of metal that had been cooking in the sun. He’d been right there when she’d argued with Claire. Had Creepy been close enough to touch?

He doesn’t want anything but me.

“I’ll never escape him.” The taste of salty tears landed on her upper lip.

This would be the rest of her life until he chose to end it. Emilie was nothing but a pawn in his sick game.

She caught sight of herself in the driver’s window: a pale, thin face with dark circles underneath wide, frightened eyes. Cheeks soaked with tears and lips trembling in defeat.

Why didn’t the bastard just get it over with? He could snatch her now if he wanted to. She was alone in the parking lot. But no, he would rather toy with her, manipulating her until he grew bored.

She couldn’t live like this anymore. Nathan was foolish to think there was any chance of catching her stalker, and Emilie was stupid to believe she and Nathan had any real shot at a future. It would be snatched away before they had a chance to begin.

Emilie glared at her reflection. Her face scrunched as a fresh onslaught of tears started.
You
weak bitch.
She smacked her hands against the window.
Standing out here crying like a
goddamned, simpering damsel in distress. You’re just going to curl up in a ball and let Creepy
win, just like you did with Evan. Nothing has changed.

Not this time, little coward
. She stepped back and mopped off her face.
You’re going to
stand up for yourself instead of letting the bad guy walk all over you. You’re not giving up. Not
this time.

A loud thump behind Emilie quelled her outburst. Fear gripped her as she realized she wasn’t alone. Then the anger returned. “Is that you hiding again, you bastard? Don’t you have the balls to talk to me like a normal human being?”

She moved toward the direction of the noise and reached for her cellphone. She scrolled to Agent Ronson’s number.

Another thump, this one louder. Emilie was certain it had come from the other side of the Mazda parked three cars away from her own.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are. Let’s end this today.”

The thumping increased, the frantic sound of something hitting metal. She paused at the Mazda. The noise was definitely coming from the rear driver’s side, near the dumpster.

Emilie took a deep breath and hit send. Then she ran around the side of the car, ready for the fight of her life. “Let’s see what you’ve got face-to-face, you sonofabitch.”

A gray pigeon squawked and flew away, abandoning the candy bar it had been trying to wedge out of a drain.

She’d been screaming at a bird.

A woman shouted her name. Emilie held the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Emilie. What’s going on? Who are you shouting at?”

“No one.”

A fat cloud eased itself over the sun. A shiver rocketed through Emilie. Creepy was here somewhere, watching. She knew it.

“Do you need me to come get you?” Ronson asked. “Has something happened?”

“Creepy left a note on my car.”

“Where are you?”

“Work.”

“Get inside. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Emilie hung up and dialed a second number. Consequences be damned, she needed Nathan by her side.

26

N
ATHAN WHIPPED THE
Camry into an empty spot. Crime scene techs dusting for fingerprints surrounded Emilie’s car. He flashed his badge at an officer and hurried into the bank.