"Get going, but stay around the precinct until five p.m., okay?"
"I'll think about it, but only because I have paperwork," she grumbled.
He touched two fingers under her chin. She should ignore him and answer the phone that still buzzed loudly as an angry hornet. Instead, she lifted her eyes to his.
Nathan lowered his head and kissed her sweetly, then lifted his lips from hers. "Thanks."
"For what this time?"
"For a night with you."
That did it. She wanted to climb his bones again right here in the kitchen. If she didn't get out of the house right now, he would be thanking her for so much more.
Her cell phone buzzed insistently. "I've got to get this."
"Go. I'll be right behind until you get inside the building."
Oddly enough, she was starting to think of his over-protective nature as sweet. Terri rushed out the door and climbed into her car. She was backing out of the drive when her phone kicked up a fuss once more. Had to be Carlos again. Probably madder than all get out. But when she flipped it open, the caller was Captain Philborn.
"Mitchell here."
"Come straight to my office when you get here." He was not happy about something.
"Sure. Is something going on?"
"Yes. We'll talk."
Terri frowned Why the secrecy? "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. What are we meeting about?"
"Fingerprints on a plastic bag."
Oh, no, no, no. She forgot about the bag she dropped at the lab yesterday... before Nathan identified himself last night. "The lab got the prints matched? Great." Perky might cover her panic. She knew who the prints belonged to now. Act like it's no big deal. "Were they Nathan Drake's?"
"One set was. The other is yours. Josie Silversteen is here with me and neither of us is happy right now. You'd better show up with answers."
And here she'd used the NOPD lab to avoid the headache of using BAD's, thinking Carlos would figure out who Terri was using as a contact. She hadn't planned on Josie banging one of the lab techs, but she bet that was how the DEA knew anything about the fingerprints.
That would be the least of Terri's problems if she didn't come up with a reason for her prints to be on the same bag as Nathan's.
* * *
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Traffic was light along Basin Street, but Nathan checked every car he passed or that passed him while he cruised the area near the St. Louis Cemetery. Nothing odd or suspicious going on. He parked between a van and a suburban sport utility, then slipped away, strolling along the sidewalk until he reached the wrought-iron entrance to the cemetery and walked in.
Marble mausoleums taller than him crowded the space not taken up by sculptures. He could never get Jamie to come here as a teen. His brother couldn't even look at a cemetery in passing after burying their dad.
And now...
A movement on his leftalley cat after a mousewhipped Nathan's mind off what he couldn't change to why he was here.
He located the left turn he'd been watching for, then strode seventy feet and hung a right, where he found Stoner leaning against a massive mausoleum in the shade. This way, they could talk quietly face-to-face and watch each other's back. The cemetery offered a better exit plan than a restaurant. They could leave together, then split up if they picked up a tail.
Nathan pulled up two feet from Stoner. "Thanks again for last night. How did you know I was there?"
"You're welcome." Stoner's gaze touched on Nathan, then swept past continually as he spoke. "I got back here about ten days ago. Took a while to find Jamie. While I was hunting him, I ran across a lot of useful information on Marseaux and figured out Jamie had gotten involved with that bunch."
"Why did you look for him?"
"Didn't take much for me to figure out why you walked away from the army."
Nathan crossed his arms and stared at the ground. "About how I left you in Bolivia"
"I understood. I won't condemn you for doing what you think you had to for your family."
How could his friend forgive him when Nathan couldn't forgive himself? He faced Stoner. "You should. I walked away from my team."
"You think the three of us couldn't get out of there without you?"
"No, but"
"The tricky part was how to report you missing."
"I was AWOL."
Stoner's smile was as sly as a fox. "All we knew when we returned to camp was that you were gone and so was your pack. Best we could figure, an unfriendly took you prisoner We stayed another two weeks, then reported you MIA. By the time the army got around to notifying your family, they'd moved with no forwarding address."
Nathan unfolded his arms, shocked that he was considered MIA and not a deserter. Stoner and his team had gone out on a limb to protect him. Terri's words came to him: Everyone is not your enemy, Nathan. Someone might be willing to help you if you'd step out from behind those walls.
Stoner's eyes sharpened at something beyond where they stood, then relaxed when he glanced back at Nathan. "I got on the Net the minute I was back at base, scanning for any news in New Orleans about you or your brother. Thought something might have happened to your mom. That's when I found a news brief on how Marseaux had slipped through the DEA's fingers again, but several people were being prosecuted. Jamie was listed as one. He was convicted, sent to prison... but he didn't go, did he?"
Nathan shook his head. "No. He wouldn't have survived."
Stoner nodded. "That's why I came back to New Orleans when I got out. I figured him and your momma could use some help until you were released. By the time I'd gotten here, your momma had passed away. Sorry about that."
"Thanks." Nathan silently cursed himself. Thanks? That was all he could say to a man who had covered his ass more than once in the army and came here to help his brother? He struggled for words that equaled Stoner's, but finally just gave up and asked, "How'd you find Jamie? He and Mom moved into another house right before she... died."
"I went to the cemetery and waited each day, thinking he'd show up again and he did. Put some flowers there. I followed him home and couldn't figure out what to say that wouldn't freak him out since he didn't know me. If I said I knew you from the army, he'd think I was here about you going AWOL. If I said I knew he was Jamie, he'd have panicked. So I just watched and followed."
"Did you see where he went the day he died?" Nathan's heart flipped over with hope of some solid intel.
Stoner nodded. "He was working at that shipping company and had been meeting someone on the sly in hotels. I couldn't figure out who, but the last night he went to meet someone he left his car at home and climbed into a black panel van. I ran the numbers with a cousin at the DMV Stolen tag. I followed the van until we got into Fat Tuesday traffic. Jamie climbed out of the van and vanished in the crowd before I could pull the car to the curb and follow him."
Nathan hit the side of his fist against the marble wall. "What could he have been doing?"
"Don't know. Marseaux's probably the only one who can answer that."
"Jamie would have left me a note. He always left notes about what he was doing or secrets he only shared with me. I just haven't figured out where he hid them."
"You're sure he hid them in the house?"
"I found a cryptic note on the refrigerator that he left because he didn't think he'd make it to the prison to pick me up. He knew he was going to die. I'm positive he'd leave more than that to help me understand."
"But I'm saying, are you sure he'd hide those in the house?"
"Where else would he" Nathan stopped himself the minute it hit him. The notes wouldn't have been in the house. "Let's go." He spun around and headed for the Javelin with Stoner close behind.
At the car, Nathan slid into the driver's seat and Stoner dropped into the passenger seat.
"I haven't even thought about the hidden panel beneath the dash where we used to stash condoms," Nathan felt underneath the dash with his hand until his finger hit a la
tch. He popped the latch and the panel fell open, A roll of money bounced on the floorboard. Not what Nathan had hoped to find.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Nate."
"I'm not." He lifted the roil of hundred-dollar bills and shoved it into the console. "But what was he doing with that kind of cash?"
"Don't have an answer for you, but Jamie will as soon as we find the notes." Stoner flipped the visor on his side down and up, then opened the glove compartment and rooted around.
"He was too sharp to pick a hiding spot just anyone could locate."
"You told me you two always picked the same places. Since the money was in that place in the dash, where else would you hide something in this car?"
Nathan leaned back, thinking. He'd been so busy trying to figure where Jamie would put the notes in the house that he'd missed the obvious. Closing his eyes, Nathan mentally studied the car, searching for a place.
Suddenly, the simplest thing hit him. Jamie wouldn't have hidden papers that would take a lot of space or be hard to print and keep up with.
His genius brother would have used something faster and easier to transport.
"Jamie would have put any information on a USB memory stick," Nathan said, "I just know it. Now, where would he put it?" His gaze skipped from the steering wheel to the rearview mirror to the buttons on the tape player. He smiled, recalling how Jamie had gotten on his ass when Nathan wanted to remove the eight-track player and install newer electronics.
Nathan stopped smiling and unlocked the console where one tape was stored, A tape player head cleaner. He yanked it out.
Stoner produced a pocketknife Nathan used to pry open the case, where he found a USB memory stick inside.
"My brother's got a laptop at home," Stoner suggested. "But it's on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain,"
"I don't want to be that far away from Terri, Have to go see what she's up to soon, but I made her agree to stay at the office until five p.m. to give me some time."
"And you think she'll stick to that?"
"Not really, but she said she had a couple hours of work, I'll hit a cyber cafe and read this thing." Nathan reached under the dash to close his trap door.
Stoner gave him a probing stare, "Found yourself a nice girl there."
"She's not mine."
"From what I saw, she's interested."
Nathan sat up and ground his teeth. "Doesn't matter, I'm on borrowed time. Once I find out who killed Jamie, I won't be able to see her anymore and she won't want to see me."
Stoner shifted his bulk, leaning an elbow against the window. "You can keep Jamie's ID and go to the parole meetingsyou don't have to run."
"I don't have time to make a parole meeting, and even if I did the minute the NOPD gets wind of me being in town, they'll figure out whose been jacking up Marseaux's people. They think Jamie was a drug mule, so the first thing they'd nail me on would be breaking my parole rules. Won't take long before they aim the same weapons at me they point at Marseaux."
"Has to be a way out of this mess."
"This is a no-win situation, I appreciate your help, but you'd be wise to stay away from me."
Stoner smiled, "What? And miss all this fun? Besides, they shot at me, too. Where I come from, that's war. How about cranking this beast and take me back to my ride."
Nathan drove over to Stoner's burgundy Ford Excursion.
"Hold on a minute," Stoner got out and opened the door on his ride, leaned in for a few seconds, then turned around, eyeing the landscape.
He returned to the car and handed Nathan a 9 mm H&K. "As long as you're going to blow your parole anyhow, this is better than that crap you had last night. We're going to need more equipment. I've got some people to see. Call me as soon as you get anything off that memory stick," He climbed into his sport utility and sped off.
Nathan drove away and called the precinct. He finally got someone who knew Terri, since it appeared not everyone did.
"She's in a meeting."
He really hated vague phrases like that. "I'll call back."
*
Terri had rushed up the steps to the second-floor precinct offices. Not that she'd been in a hurry to explain the fingerprints, but she had a feeling something else was going on.
Had the DEA gotten their hands on the container? When she reached the door to Captain Philborn's office, Terri took a deep breath and tapped.
"Come in."
Josie sat next to Philborn's desk with her chair turned so that she could swing the shapely leg she had crossed. How did that woman work in tall strapless heels? She wore a trim aqua-blue linen skirt suit with a low-cut black shell top and crisscross patterns on her dark stockings.
But her most unnerving asset was the victorious smile she hardly tried to smother.
"Have a seat, Mitchell."
"What's up?" Terri sat down, feeling a little frumpy in her khaki pants, tweed jacket, and basic white buttondown blouse.
"Lab reports came back on this bag." He lifted the Ziploc that now had dust residue on it. "DEA went through the Drake house and dusted everything that had been used or could have been handled. Where did you get this and what are your prints doing on it if this is a piece of evidence?"
The DEA must have gone in after Terri broke in.
Josie's grin widened.
She really hated that woman, but Terri would never come to a fight unprepared. "My grandmother happens to live a couple streets over from the Drakes. Grandma is blind and likes to walk all over the place. That's how she met Lydia Drake, who would bring her ice tea her son made when Grandma came by."
"Nice home and hearth story." Josie flicked her hair when she turned her head. "I don't have all day. Explain the bag. There are reports all over town about Nathan Drake. Are those his fingerprints?"
"Why are you asking me? I thought the lab already confirmed they were his prints."
"Don't be coy." The true Josie surfaced, with claws showing. "Since we don't have a body to confirm identity, we believe Nathan Drake is alive and threatening people, which means he faked his own death."
Terri couldn't resist mocking her. "And maybe fat flying fairies ate the rest of your blouse, which explains why so much of it's missing. Did it not occur to you that Brady might have been wrong about the body ID?"
"He wouldn't have made that mistake."
Josie supporting Brady worried Terri. Or was it just a matter of how a family fights among themselves until one of theirs is attacked, then they close ranks?
"I heard this Drake guy or the phantom, depending on what you believe, was threatening criminals," Terri defended.
"The law doesn't condone vigilantes, regardless of who they kill," Philborn interjected. "Back to the bag."
"I don't condone vigilantes, either," Terri clarified quickly, annoyed anyone would think she did. "As I was telling you, my grandmother walked over to see Lydia before she died, said she was very frail. While there, Grandma missed a step and bumped her head against the doorjamb. Lydia's son brought her an icepack, which she carried home, I tossed it in the freezer in case we needed it again and forgot all about it until this week. I just thought I'd see if his fingerprints were on the bag so that we'd have a good set of prints for identifying the body once we found it." Had to be one of the worst stories she'd ever made up, but that's all she had on short notice.
"Why weren't your grandmother's prints on the bag?"
"She was walking right after Christmas. Grandma wears gloves all through the winter."
"Next time, inform me when you think you have evidence on a case," Philborn said with his standard tone of dismissal.
"Yes, sir. Sorry for any inconvenience I might have caused you." Terri popped up, not minding the pain of moving so quickly this time. She headed for the door.
"Wait a minute," Josie stammered. "She's hiding something."
Philborn stood up, his next sign of dismissal. "Thought you said you were busy. We wouldn't want to waste any more of your valuable time."
> Josie's eyes narrowed to slits. "When do we get the container? The DEA wants to see the contents before everything is distributed among your officers."
Terri started to speak, then caught the mean glint in Philborn's droopy eyes. "Our business here is finished. The DEA will get access to the container when I say so. Right now, it's a crime scene in our jurisdiction."
"I've got some paperwork to do, but let me know if you need anything, Captain." Terri gave him her best good-girl voice.
"That's fine." Philborn was already sitting back down.
The venomous stare Josie sent her way should have poisoned the air. She caught up to Terri at the door. "I don't know what kind of crap you're pulling, Mitchell, but you won't have much longer to play these games. Just let me find out you've been helping Brady and you're cooked. I'm close to finishing this investigation and plan to wrap it up in the next few days. I can't wait for you to see my thorough report."
Terri stared a hole through her. Josie wasn't bluffing, which meant someone had concocted hard evidence against Terri that would hold up in court unless she got to the bottom of this first. "I have two words for you."
"Oh, yeah?" Josie smiled, a toothpaste ad for the devil.
"What-ever"
"That's one word."
"bitch."
Josie snatched up her purse and stalked from the room.
Philborn chuckled, a deep rumbling noise that shook the room. "I like that. Wish I'd thought of it."
Terri smiled. "Is that all you need from me?"
All the fun rushed out of his face. "No, close the door."
Her heart slid south. She shut the door, then sat down to face him. "What's wrong?"
"Sammy's missing."
She frowned at his dire tone. "What do you mean, missing? Late for work?"
"No. He went to guard the container last night. When the next shift showed up this morning, he wasn't there. They found some drops of blood on the ground."
Terri clutched her throat as fear gripped her. "Not Sammy."
"It's worse. I can't turn that container loose anytime soon. We lost some of the contents last night. I think whoever came after something in that container did Sammy serious harm. I just don't know why they would take him with them. We found a casing, so we think he was shot. If they wanted to kill him, why not leave the body there?" Philborn shook his head and stared at nothing in particular. "I don't know, maybe he's alive."