Ghost Walking

  He waited a moment, then followed her but stopped on the living area side of the counter. She poured herself a mug of coffee; he chose a beer. They kept the counter between them while she related the details of her visit to Castile’s headquarters. “That’s about it. I wasn’t there long. Just long enough to jab him a couple of times.” She set her mug on the counter. “I want him to come after me, Josh. Because I want us to catch him.” She gave a half-laugh. “I’m sick of always being one step behind.”

  His hooded eyes watched her face. “Were you going to tell me?”

  “Of course. How can you ask?”

  “You had me worried,” he said. “It seemed as if getting Castile had become more important to you than your survival.” His voice roughened. “Not to me, Maggie. Never to me.”

  “I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.” She looked up, a soft smile touching her lips. “I want you watching my back every step of the way.”

  “You got it, although a little warning before you visit Castile again would be nice.” Brandt gave her a long look, before setting his beer down. He stepped around the counter and gently cupped her face between his hands. “But being your backup isn’t enough. I think you already know I want more.”

  Maggie’s heart turned over. “How much more?”

  “I’ll show you. This time without the footstool.” His lips brushed hers lightly, and he slid a hand down her back, finding the tail of her shirt and the bare skin underneath. He gave a deep chuckle when she shivered. “It might take awhile to give this my full attention.”

  “That’s OK.” Maggie molded her body against his long length, curling her fingers in his hair. “I have all night.”

  * * *

  Despite Maggie’s visit to Castile, the next three days remained quiet. Wernier’s funeral and the precinct’s official mourning period came and went, without an overt response from the crime boss. Although she’d brought it on herself, Maggie grew tired of wearing a kevlar vest every time she set foot outside and keeping her blinds always closed. Brandt escorted her everywhere, which wasn’t a bad thing, except he was so tense, his eyes searching every rooftop and shadow. She noticed, because she was doing the same.

  Brandt relaxed more when they spent their evenings at the medical facility with his mother, Harry, and Annie—where he could keep an eye on everyone—and the nights with each other. Brandt joked about having to stay to protect her, but nothing about the situation was funny. It looked as if Castile wasn’t taking the bait, and tension was mounting.

  When the phone rang at 2:16 Saturday morning, Maggie bolted upright in bed, but it was Brandt’s phone. He reached a hand out of the covers to answer and sprang to his feet when Harry’s face lit up the screen.

  “Harry. What’s wrong?” Brandt listened a second, his jaw tightening. “Go down. Don’t get trapped on the roof. Just go down and get out of there. I’m on my way.” He glanced at Maggie as he grabbed his clothes. “Intruder.”

  Maggie was already out of bed and pulling on her jeans. “Where is he?”

  “Harry’s on the fire escape. I’m not sure about the intruder.”

  Brandt drove, weaving around early morning traffic, pushing well over the speed limit. Maggie peered tensely ahead from the passenger seat, her SIG already in her lap. Please, God. This is his only brother.

  The moment the car stopped, Maggie took off toward the building entrance. “I’ll clear his apartment. What’s the number?”

  “Two nineteen. But wait, Maggie. Let’s stay together and find Harry first.”

  “And let the guy get away? You check on Harry and cover the fire escape.”

  Brandt frowned, hesitated, but finally ran toward the walkway between buildings.

  Maggie burst through the entrance, cleared the front stairway, and reached the second floor without spotting anyone. It was strange the disturbance hadn’t roused other tenants, but maybe not, if shots hadn’t been fired. She hoped that meant Harry was alive and unharmed.

  The door to apartment 219 was open an inch. She pushed it wider with her elbow, keeping her body to one side, but nothing happened. Not a sound. Reaching her left arm around the corner, she found the overhead lights and flipped them up using the back of her hand to avoid leaving prints on a potential crime scene. She listened for another second or two before peering around the corner. The room looked empty.

  There was a recliner to her right. She slipped inside and crouched behind it, while assessing the rest of Harry’s apartment. It was a regular studio. She’d entered the living area of a large room with bedroom space on the right, kitchenette on the left, bathroom straight ahead. The window on the far side of the bed was open, leading to the fire escape. The bathroom door was open, but the other two doors, presumably closets, were closed. Holding her SIG in firing position, she sidestepped to the larger closet and pulled the folding doors open. Clothes, shoes, junk.

  A sudden flash of brilliant light swooped down on her. She half-turned, instantly engulfed by an icy cold. Maggie recoiled, a scream ripped from her throat, and she fell into the closet. Two shots exploded from the direction of the bathroom. Two more from the open window.

  As the frosty chill receded, Maggie scrambled to a crouched position, swinging her gun for a target. A body lay near the bathroom door. Brandt climbed through the window. She caught a ragged breath, eased off the trigger, and straightened.

  “Are you hit?” He reached her in two strides, scanning her for an injury. “What just happened?”

  “I’m OK.” She rubbed her arms awkwardly, still clutching her SIG. “It was Hurst. He dive-bombed me just before the shots. Scared the hell out of me.” Not to mention the creepy, soul-threatening touch of the Beyond.

  “There’s a ghost in here?” He looked around. “Where?”

  “I don’t see him now, but he was definitely here.” Maggie dropped her hands and put the SIG away.

  “I’m not doubting you. I saw your face.” Brandt cocked his head and frowned. “Too close, York. He probably saved your life.”

  “Not by himself. Nice shooting.” Maggie ignored his bristling disapproval, kicked the intruder’s gun away, and leaned over the body. The guy’d taken two hits. Double tap, head and heart. She checked for a pulse anyway and shook her head. “How did you know he was up here?”

  “I didn’t, but I found Harry unharmed and hiding behind a garbage bin. He said no one followed him down the fire escape.”

  She frowned at him. “That’s weird.”

  His brow shot up. “No weirder than a ghost. But yeah, something’s not right.” Brandt pointed his chin at the dead man. “Either he was waiting for Harry to come back…or for someone else to respond.”

  “Like you,” she said, her throat tightening. Had Castile shifted his focus to Josh?

  “Or you. Or maybe just any cop. Too bad he can’t tell us, but I wasn’t focused on that when I pulled the trigger.” He gave her a pointed look. “Don’t think we won’t talk about this later.” Brandt turned away and leaned over the body to check the intruder’s pockets and pulled out a wallet. “Let’s see who he is. Casey Franklin Gordon. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Me either.”

  A police car with sirens shrieking pulled up on the street below.

  Brandt looked up. “You should get out of here.”

  “What about you? About Harry? Where is Harry?”

  “I sent him to my place.” Brandt straightened, clearly torn between protocol, expediency, and protecting Harry. “Take off and start walking south. I’ll send patrol up to guard the scene, call the ME, and meet you in a few minutes. Patrol won’t be happy when they realize I’ve left, but I’ll call the captain before anyone gets too bent out of shape. Now go. Take the back exit.”

  He urged her toward the door. Maggie checked that the hall was empty, sprinted toward the back stairway, and was out of the building without being seen. Right on schedule, Brandt picked her up ten minutes later, and they drove to his apartment.

  A tousled,
wide-eyed Harry leaped off the couch. “Boy am I glad to see you both alive! What happened? I heard shots, but I didn’t have a gun.”

  “That’s a blessing,” Josh muttered. “The intruder’s dead. Maggie can tell you about it, while I call Captain Jenson.” Josh went into the bedroom and closed the door.

  Harry gave her a troubled look. “He killed someone? Or did you—”

  “He did. And probably saved my life.” Along with Hurst. Maggie went to the kitchen and sipped on a glass of water. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins.

  “Oh, that’s OK then. I didn’t want it to be because of me.”

  Maggie eyed him. “He wouldn’t shoot anyone unless he had to.”

  “Uh, yeah, I know, but he’s done so much for me. I didn’t want this on my conscience too.”

  Maggie grimaced. “Tonight might be my fault rather than yours.” If she’d goaded Castile into this kind of action, she hated putting Harry at greater risk, but the hit man’s death wouldn’t bother her for long. This time the good guys had come out on top. It didn’t always end that way.

  Josh interrupted further conversation as he returned from the bedroom. “Captain wasn’t happy. He’s got it in hand, but I need to meet with him and turn in my gun.”

  “Did he put you on leave?” Maggie asked. Standard protocol for officer-involved shootings but highly inconvenient right now.

  “Not exactly. He’s walking a fine line, upholding the rules, yet leaving me some maneuvering room. I’m still active status, and I’ll just check out another pistol. I gave him the victim’s name, and he ran a check. Frankie Gordon is one of Castile’s goons. So Harry has definitely been made. But I should go. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  “Now? He wants to meet now? It’s four-twenty in the morning.” When he nodded, Maggie got to her feet. “Then I’ll go home and get some sleep.”

  “Actually, I’d like for you to stay.” He flicked a gaze from her to Harry. “If Castile has put the pieces together, someone could come here looking for Harry. It’s not likely, at least this quickly, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’d send you both someplace safer, but right now I don’t know where that is.”

  “No problem. I’ll be here. Don’t worry about us.”

  “What about mother? Is she at risk too?” Harry demanded.

  “I don’t know. I hope their security will be enough for tonight.” Brandt gave them a harried look. “That’s part of what the captain and I are going to discuss.” He started to leave, then came back and nodded Maggie toward the door. “I’d like a quick word before I leave.”

  Oh, no. Here it comes. But might as well be now as later. Maggie followed him out, knowing he had every right to chew her out for running into that building alone but still feeling defensive.

  As soon as they were in the hallway, he turned to her with a grave look and lowered his voice. “I trust you to protect Harry. But no more of these knee-jerk reactions. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on…you’re trying to prove you’re better, faster, bolder. Maybe to convince the captain…or yourself. But you’re a good cop, Maggie. You don’t need to prove anything. Stop trying so hard before it all backfires in your face.”

  Maggie wanted to deny it, but she bit her lip. She’d endangered Harry this time. He was entitled to call her on it. “I never meant to make things worse for Harry by confronting Castile.”

  “We don’t know that you did. Hell, Maggie, that’s not the point. You might have gotten yourself killed. This is twice in a week. And tonight took…” He paused, clearly searching for the words. “…an extraordinary intervention. If you pull something again, I’m not going to look the other way.”

  Maggie stared at him but didn’t know what to say.

  Josh sighed. “Just think about it, and stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” He leaned down and brushed her lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  When he disappeared through the stairwell door, Maggie went inside the apartment, glanced at Harry, and dropped onto the couch. “What a mess I’ve made.”

  “How so? What’d you mean it might be your fault?” he asked. “Did you let it slip where I was?”

  She gave him an astonished look. “Of course not, but I may have set Castile off so that he’s lashing out at any target he finds. He’s probably made the connection between me and your family.” She described her meeting with the crime boss.

  “Holy smoke, Maggie.” Harry looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t.

  “Yeah, your brother thought it was a crazy thing to do.” She sighed wearily. “Could be you’re both right.”

  Harry’s look was doubtful, a little confused even, but he let it drop. He picked up his phone and tossed it a couple of times. “Maybe I should call Mom.”

  “Your brother alerted security on the way over here. Let her sleep, Harry. Let’s do nothing else until Josh returns with a plan.” She yawned. “Except maybe take a nap. It could be a long day.”

  “You can take the bed.”

  She was tempted to take him up on the offer, to curl up with Josh’s pillow and fall asleep surrounded by the woodsy smell of him. “I’ll be fine on the couch. You guys with your long legs need extra room. Besides, it puts my gun closer to the only entrance.”

  * * *

  When Brandt returned three hours later, Maggie was asleep on the couch, and he found Harry snoring lightly in the bedroom. He slipped quietly into the kitchen and put the coffee on. He’d like to let them sleep a few more hours, but he wanted his mother and brother settled before he collapsed into bed. Hopefully with Maggie secure in his arms.

  He and Jenson had come up with a plan, and the first steps had been taken. The captain had relieved him of other casework, and now it was up to Brandt to get all the pieces to the right place.

  As soon as the coffee aroma filled the air, Maggie stirred. He crossed the room, leaned down, and kissed her on the lips.

  Her eyes popped open. “I didn’t hear you come in. What time is it?”

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Brandt hid a smile. Even as tired and worried as he was, he found every move fascinating. She stretched her neck and got up, putting her arms around his waist. “Are you OK?” she asked.

  “I am now. But we have a lot to do today. Let me get Harry up, and I’ll explain.”

  When the brothers entered the living room after a mumbled discussion from the back of the apartment, Harry was rubbing his eyes and grumpy from lack of sleep. His mood deteriorated even more when he heard his brother’s plan. Brandt argued that everyone, especially their mother, would be safer this way, and Harry grudgingly agreed. Next hurdle was Carolyn Brandt, but she didn’t offer a single protest. Anything that would keep her boys safe and allow her to see them was fine.

  By mid-afternoon, Carolyn and Harry were in protective custody on the third floor private wing of a local hospital. They’d been officially registered as Karolin Gorski and her male nurse, Hari Obata. No official reason had been given for the police officers outside the room or at the entrance to the wing, but hospital gossip whispered about political asylum and international crime rings. Captain Jenson had a creative imagination.

  Maggie and Josh sat beside his mother’s bed watching Harry model his green scrubs.

  “This is a disgusting color,” he complained.

  “Better than a black suit and a coffin,” Brandt said.

  “Joshua.” Carolyn Brandt gave him a mildly reproving look. “Don’t even joke about it.”

  “Sorry, Mom. It’s a cop thing.”

  “Did you put Annie on the visitors list?” Harry asked, turning to look at Josh.

  “No, and you’re not going to either. Maggie will get her a burner phone, so you can talk all you want. But for a while, no face-to-face contact. She could be followed here…or worse yet, someone could follow her away.”

  Harry scowled, but closed his eyes at the thought, and finally nodded.

  Maggie put a hand on Brandt’s sleeve. “OK. Can
we go now? I think we all need sleep. I know you do.” His face was gray and drawn, Harry had dark bags under his eyes, and Maggie didn’t dare look in the mirror. Carolyn’s health had grown so delicate that the move had taken a lot out of her. They were exhausted, and nerves had frayed. A few hours apart, especially for the brothers, would be a good deal for everyone.

  “Great idea.” Brandt draped an arm around her waist and sent his mother a finger kiss. “Rest well, Mom. I’ll be back after I’ve slept about two weeks.” He gave a faint smile. “Sometime tomorrow.”

  Actually it turned out to be fortunate that Maggie and Josh went to bed—and to sleep—early that evening. The phone rang at 7:30 in the morning, and Captain Jenson wanted Maggie in his office in an hour.

  “What’s this about, Captain?”

  “We’ll talk when you get here.”

  At 8:23 Maggie and Brandt walked into the District 13 squad room. It was mostly deserted on a Sunday morning. A few detectives might wander in throughout the day, but most of them took the day off unless they were behind on their paperwork or received a case on call.

  Maggie had discouraged Brandt from coming. The less Jenson saw them together, the better. In fact, the argument had been heated and neither would back down. At one point Maggie suspected the dispute was being fueled by last night’s tension, but that didn’t change anything. Josh believed she was in trouble because of helping him with Harry, and he refused to let her go in alone. She’d finally walked out without him, but he’d followed in his own car.

  The captain looked up. “What are you doing here, Brandt? I thought I’d seen the last of you for a while.”

  “I’m here with her, sir.”

  “No, he’s not. I told him not to come, but he doesn’t listen very well.”