Against the Sky (8 page)

She tried to read, but the book didn't hold her interest any more here than it had on the plane. She needed a good mystery novel, or maybe a romantic suspense. She amended that. She had more romance in her life right now than she could handle.

Closing the book, she wandered back inside and down the hall. The door to Nick's bedroom was open. He sat at his computer, engrossed in whatever was on the screen. He didn't even stir as she walked up behind him.

A photo took up the left half of the monitor, an attractive man with reddish-brown hair, well-dressed in a suit and tie, and smiling. She recognized him as the man in the photo she had seen on the dresser in Jimmy's bedroom last night, Jimmy's father. On the other half of the screen was a newspaper article in the
Anchorage Daily News.

Prominent Accountant Dies of Unexpected Heart Attack
. Reading over Nick's shoulder, she skimmed the page, saw the article was about a man named Alexander “Alex” Evans, who had died at the age of forty-four. She figured it had to be Jimmy's dad. Alex had been a partner at Jankowski, Sorenson, Petrova, and Evans, one of the most respected accounting firms in Anchorage.

According to the article, Alex and the other partners were noted philanthropists, making large donations to a number of charities, including the Anchorage Police Department Widows and Orphans Fund.

She started to say something, to let Nick know she had come into the room, when he clicked up another page. It was a photograph in profile of the same man twenty years younger. It appeared to be a police mug shot and in it, the man looked like a hardened criminal, his cheeks sunken in, dark circles around his eyes.

Except that the name beneath the photo wasn't Alexander Evans—it was Alexi Evanko.

Her mind spun. She thought of Jimmy's face, battered and bruised last night, filled with desperation this morning. Nick had said the boy seemed afraid. She thought of what Jimmy had told Nick—that he believed his father had been murdered.

Nick's hands moved over the keyboard, pulling up Evanko's known associates, many of whom also had criminal records, and suddenly she knew.

“Oh, my God, you think Jimmy was right! You think his father was murdered!”

Nick stopped typing and whirled in her direction. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

At the angry look on his face, Samantha had to force herself not to back away. This wasn't the jovial man who had taken her out to dinner in Las Vegas. This was the ex-cop, a dangerous man she had only gotten a glimpse of in the hotel hallway. She couldn't help thinking of the baby she carried. What was Nick Brodie really like?

“Something happened to Jimmy yesterday,” she said, ignoring his outburst, determined to brazen it out. “Something that had to do with his father being murdered.”

“Dammit, Samantha, you shouldn't have come in here. I told you Jimmy spoke to me in confidence.”

“I wasn't spying on you, and besides, you didn't tell me anything—I guessed. I saw Jimmy's face last night and this morning. I saw his father's photo on his dresser and recognized him on the screen. And I can tell by what you've dug up, there's a lot more to Alex Evans than what's in that newspaper article.”

“Listen to me, Samantha. If anyone—and I mean anyone—finds out I'm digging into this, Jimmy and his aunt could both wind up dead.”

Samantha's breath stalled.
Dead? Murdered like Jimmy's father?
Nick was a detective; he was used to this kind of violence. But she was just a marketing person for a dog-grooming parlor! What was she getting herself into?

A memory arose of Jimmy's battered face and the terrible despair in his eyes. The twelve-year-old boy badly needed help.

Samantha squared her shoulders. “I would never do anything to hurt Jimmy or Mary. They could pull out my fingernails and I wouldn't tell anyone a damned thing about Alexander Evans.”

Nick's mouth edged up. “You probably wouldn't. You're a pretty tough lady when push comes to shove.”

He was talking about the tussle she'd had with good ol' Howard. Samantha managed to smile.

Nick looked back at the screen. “Alexander Evans, alias Alexi Evanko,” he said, resigned that Jimmy's secret was out. And trusting her, she hoped, not to say anything that would put the boy or his aunt in danger.

“The guy's got a criminal record for everything from assault to suspicion of murder. Served eight years in Statesville Correctional Facility in Illinois, but that was seventeen years ago. Since he got out, he's been a model citizen—or at least he hasn't been in the criminal justice system.”

“That's why he changed his name.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you find out who he really was?”

“Now that I'm off the force, I don't have access to police databases, so I went to Google. I'm not much of a computer whiz, but for this kind of stuff you don't have to be. There're a dozen services online that can dig up information. Instant Checkmate, Public Records Now. It's scary what they can tell you about someone for twenty-nine dollars—anyone whose name you type in. Criminal records, marriages and divorces, address histories, how to make contact. Hell, you can even find out if they've had any speeding tickets.”

“So you Googled Alexander Evans. But how did Alexi Evanko's name come up?”

“For the last two hours, I've been checking every Alexander Evans who showed up in my initial search, including any variation of spellings. Alexi Evanko was one of them. Just before you walked in, his old photo showed up. I ran a search and here we are.”

“Doesn't mean he was murdered.”

“No, but apparently Jimmy spent the day bound and gagged in the back of some guy's trunk. Two men threatened to kill him and his aunt. That's pretty convincing.”

Dear God, poor Jimmy.
“Good heavens, yes. So what are you going to do?”

Nick pushed back his chair and came to his feet. “I can't go to the cops—not without putting Jimmy and Mary at risk. We don't have any evidence, and you can see by the article, Evans was highly thought of and pretty deeply connected into the department. He and his partners are big supporters. No way are the police going to take a look at him without cause. I need to dig up as much info as I can and see where it leads.”

“How much information did you get from Jimmy?”

“Not much. I wanted to give him a little time before I started battering him with more questions. I don't want him to clam up again.”

“Well, you've got a lot more to go on now than you did this morning.”

“Yeah,” Nick said darkly, glancing back down at the screen. “And none of it's good.”

“I need to talk to Jimmy,” Nick said, raking a hand through his hair. “Maybe he got a description of the car or a license plate number. At least a good look at the men.”

They were still standing in his bedroom next to the computer. He tried not to look at Samantha and think of the king-size bed just a few feet away.

“So go talk to him,” she said. “You have to figure this out. Jimmy's counting on you.”

“I know, but I need more information. I'd like to know how the hell Alexi Evanko turned his life around and became Alexander Evans—respectable CPA and partner in a prestigious accounting firm.”

Samantha smiled. “I can help with that. Digging around the Internet all day is what I do for a living. Of course, I'm only collecting market data, not information on a criminal.”

“Are you sure you want to get involved?”

She scooted him out of the way, sat down at the desk in front of his machine. “I'm staying in your house, so I'm already involved. Besides, I'm not going to do anything dangerous. I won't get into any files that might alert someone we're snooping around.”

Nick started nodding. He could use all the help he could get. “All right, if you're sure. Anything you can come up with is bound to be useful. In the meantime, I'll go talk to Jimmy, see if he has any information I can use.”

It was late afternoon by the time Nick left Samantha at work on the computer and walked up the hill to Jimmy's. He'd planned to spend these next two weeks with a woman he enjoyed, one he badly wanted back in his bed, but he couldn't ignore the young boy who needed his help.

Nick sighed as he glanced up at the impressive log home overlooking the lake, climbed the front steps to the wrap-around covered porch, and knocked on the eight-foot door. Wearing jeans and white cotton blouse, her long, shiny black hair pulled back in a ponytail, Mary pulled open the door. She was a stay-at-home mom these days. Apparently Alex Evans had left enough money in trust to provide for his son and his guardian, and that included the expensive house Jimmy and Mary lived in.

Alex had been successful and wealthy. Now that Nick knew the man's background, he wondered how he'd earned his money—and what he had done to get himself killed.

Mary smiled and stepped back to welcome him into the house. “Hi, Nick. Come on in. Jimmy's playing games on the computer up in his room. I'll tell him you're here.”

“Why don't I just go on up? Be nice and private up there. Give us a chance to talk.”

Mary seemed relieved. “Of course. Go right ahead. His room's down the hall on the right.”

“Thanks.” Nick climbed the stairs and knocked on Jimmy's door, which was easy to spot with a polar bear on the front and the words
Trespassers Will Be Eaten
underneath. He knocked a second time and Jimmy pulled it open.

“Can I come in?” Nick asked.

Jimmy glanced out into the hall as if he expected to see the entire Anchorage police force. “I guess.” He stepped back out of the way and Nick walked in and closed the door.

“How're you doing?”

“Okay.” At the foot of the bed, Duke raised his head, thumped his tail a couple of times, then settled back to sleep.

“Your eye looks like hell.”

The kid relaxed a little. “I know.”

“I came over because I need your help. I need you to tell me about the men you fought with yesterday.” He purposely avoided saying
the men who abducted you
because he didn't want to scare the kid any more than he was already.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. “They were wearing red ski masks so I couldn't see what they looked like.”

“Was there anything about them you remember? Height? Build? The clothes they were wearing? You must have noticed something.”

Jimmy stared at him as if he didn't want to remember anything about what had happened.

“Look, we have to figure this out, okay? You and me, working together. You came to me for help in the beginning. Now it's even more important that we find out what happened. You need to do your part and give me as much information as you can.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jimmy sat down on the edge of his bed while Nick walked over and pulled out the chair in front of the boy's computer, spun it around and sat down. “So what can you tell me about the men?”

“One was pretty big. Tall, you know, and heavy. He had shaggy brown hair that stuck out from under the bottom of his ski mask and squinty little pig eyes.”

“Okay, what about the other one?”

“He was shorter and kind of skinny. He had a long, hooked nose and I think he smoked because he stank like cigarettes and his voice was raspy. One called the other man Virgil, but I couldn't tell which was which.”

“That's very good, Jim. You might make a pretty good cop someday.”

He grunted. “No thanks.”

Nick felt the pull of a smile. “What about their car?”

“It was an old beater, kind of a faded metallic blue. I don't know what kind it was.”

“You didn't happen to get the license plate number?”

Jimmy shook his head, moving his short-cropped black hair. “I was too scared to think of it at first. By the time I did, it was dark and I couldn't see it.”

“That's okay. You did good. Anything else you can think of?”

“One of them was wearing a gun.” His eyes fixed on Nick's face. “They were really bad guys, Nick. I think my dad must have found something out they didn't want him to know and that's why they killed him.”

Nick didn't tell him that considering the man's background, there could have been any number of reasons Alex Evans was dead. “We don't know enough yet to draw conclusions, but eventually we'll find out. You just go on with your life the way you have been, like nothing has changed. Go to school, play your after-school sports, go fishing with your friends.”

“What if those men come after me again?”

“If they wanted to kill you, Jimmy, they had every chance. As long as you stay away from your father's office and out of trouble, I don't think they'll bother you.”

Some of the tension left the boy's thick shoulders. “Okay, then.”

“We've got to take this slowly, Jim. We can't afford to stir up anything that would put you and Mary in danger.”

“But you're gonna find them, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm going to find them. In the meantime, I want you safe.”

Jimmy walked Nick downstairs and out the front door. Neither of them spoke along the way. Until Nick figured out what the hell was going on, there wasn't anything left to say.

 

 

It took a second round of knocking before Samantha realized someone was standing at Nick's front door. Getting up from the computer, she hurried through the living room, paused at the window to see who was out on the porch, saw an attractive blond man, early thirties, close to Nick's age.

“I'm a friend of Nick's,” the man called to her through the glass when he spotted her peering out at him.

“He isn't home,” she called back.

When he grinned and held up his badge, she felt a sweep of relief.

“Sorry,” she said as she unlocked the door she'd locked earlier and pulled it open. “I'm from San Francisco. We don't open our doors to strangers.” Especially not when there were murder suspects roaming the area.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” the man said, wiping his feet on the mat before he stepped into the living room. “I'm Cord Reeves. Nick and I worked together in Anchorage. He was one helluva detective—before he decided to quit and go on holiday.”

She smiled. “I'm not sure Nick thinks of it quite that way. I'm Samantha Hollis. I'm here for a visit.”

He glanced around the house. “Where is he?”

“He . . . umm . . . he's running an errand. He shouldn't be too long. Would you like a cup of coffee, or a Coke or something while you wait?”

“How about a beer?”

“Sure.” She turned and started for the kitchen.

“I'll get it. I know where the fridge is.” Cord disappeared into the other room, then walked back into the living room with a bottle of Bud Light in his hand.

He was even better-looking than she had first thought, with dark blond hair, hazel eyes, and masculine features. He shrugged out of the lightweight jacket he was wearing, leaving him in jeans, hiking boots, and a dark brown T-shirt, filled out very nicely by a set of wide shoulders and a muscular chest. He was shorter than Nick by a couple of inches, but just as well-built.

“So you're the lady Nick met in Las Vegas.” Cord tipped up his beer bottle and took a drink.

“That's right.”

“He talked about you after he got back, said how much fun the two of you had. I'm not really surprised to see you here.”

“I'm just here for a couple of weeks. I . . . always wanted to see Alaska.” Not even close to the truth, though now that she was here, she was at least enjoying the scenery.

The front door swung open and Nick walked into the living room. He took one look at Cord, sitting next to her on the sofa casually drinking a beer, and a scowl darkened his face.

“Hey, man,” Cord said, coming to his feet. “I didn't know you had company.” He tossed Samantha a smile. “And very pretty company at that.”

Nick walked over, tugged her up off the sofa, and straight into his arms. Bending his head, he very thoroughly kissed her. When he looked back at Cord, the warning was clear.
Hands off. She belongs to me.

Samantha would never have believed she'd be attracted to a man with such a ridiculous macho attitude, and yet when she saw the possessive gleam in Nick's eyes, an embarrassing wave of lust rolled through her.

Cord flashed a look at Nick and grinned.
Message received loud and clear.

“So what brings you all the way out here?” Nick asked as they all sat back down, Cord in the chair this time, Nick on the sofa beside her.

“Boredom, I guess you could say.” He turned to Samantha. “I've got a cabin up near Hatcher's Pass. Friday night, I drove up there for the weekend, did some hiking yesterday, just kind of relaxed. Thought I might as well drop by before I head back to the city.”

“I should have gotten out more while the weather was nicer,” Nick said. “Looks like it's going to be getting colder during the week.”

“Be snowing before you know it,” Cord said. They talked for a while about the protection job Nick would be taking at the end of Samantha's visit.

“It's something to do,” Nick said. “Beats watching TV.”

“You'll be protecting the family this time,” Cord said. “That should make it interesting.”

“Yeah, listen, since you're here, maybe you can help me with something. A friend of mine had some trouble with a couple of lowlifes the other day—one big, shaggy brown hair, the other one skinny with a long, hooked nose. One of them was named Virgil, not sure which one. I thought you might have crossed paths with them at one time or another.”

Cord thought a moment. “Description doesn't ring any bells offhand. Might come to me, though. If it does, I'll call you.”

“Thanks.”

Cord set his empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “I gotta run. Nice meeting you, Samantha.”

“You, too, Cord.” She watched him walk out of the house, heading for the silver pickup parked out front, then turned to find Nick's blue eyes burning into her. Her breath caught and her mind went straight to sex.

“God, I want to take you to bed,” he said.

Samantha's mouth went dry while the rest of her body turned hot and damp. “I want . . . want that, too, but . . . I just . . . I need a little more time, Nick, please.” If she wasn't carrying his baby, she would already be back in his bed. But the child was more important. She had to make the right decision and to do that, she had to think clearly. Sleeping with Nick would only muddy the waters.

He nodded, released a slow breath. “So what did you find out about Alex Evans?”

Samantha reached out and took hold of his hand, ignored the little zing that raced up her arm. “Come on,” she said, “I'll show you.”

 

 

Nick followed Samantha into the bedroom, careful to keep his eyes off the bed and his mind out of the gutter. Damn, he wanted her. Maybe it was just that she was a tempting little bit, and he hadn't gotten his fill of her in Las Vegas. Maybe it was just that she was there in his house and conveniently sleeping just down the hall.

Nick wished he could convince himself. Though he was drawn to her pretty, all-American-girl looks, long curly hair, and sexy curves, there was something about her that drew him more deeply. Her sweetness, maybe, her warm nature, or the way just being around her settled him somehow.

He didn't know what it was, but he had felt it from the start.

“I printed out as much as I could,” she said as she sat down at his computer, returning his thoughts to Jimmy and the problem at hand. “First I pulled up Alex Evans's credentials from the office website.” She typed in the info and he watched it pop up on the screen.

“At forty-four, he was the most junior partner in the firm,” she said, “but he had a very impressive background. Born in Chicago in 1969, graduated University of Illinois in 1995, then got an accounting degree from the Keller Business School a year later. His first job was with Paxon, Reynolds Accounting in Chicago. In 2000, he moved to Fairbanks, worked for a firm up there. Moved to Anchorage in 2004 when he accepted the job with Jankowski, Sorenson.”