Against the Sky (16 page)

“I live in San Francisco,” she reminded him in case he hadn't gotten the message. “That's where my home is.”

He knew that. Hell, she hadn't even been sure she was going to tell him she was having his kid.

“I just . . . I guess I'm not used to having a woman around the house.” He reached for her again and this time she didn't resist. He kissed the side of her neck and the stiffness went out of her body. He nibbled an earlobe, heard her quick intake of breath. “I must admit it has its pluses.”

He could feel the warmth of her breasts, smell her floral perfume. A rush of desire slid through him, thickened, began to pound through his veins. He was hard for her, aching inside his sweatpants. He flicked a glance at the bed, only a few feet away.

“Did you . . . umm . . . find that phone number?” Samantha asked, drawing away from him.

Nick sighed, tried to think of something besides being inside her. “Not yet. But I talked to Lisa. Looks like Evans may have been laundering money. According to the numbers in two of his accounts, Northland Corp and SeaWest, both may be running shady operations. Evans was up to his neck in whatever was going on, and the kind of money we're talking about is plenty of motive for murder.”

“Did she find out who owns the corporations?”

“No. She says that's not her bailiwick.”

A smile lit up those big brown eyes and the desire he'd curbed rushed back full force. Nick clenched his jaw.

“I could do it,” Samantha said.

“You can find out who owns those companies?”

“Marketing was my specialty. We were planning to expand. You need to know who you're dealing with, the names of your competitors, people you might need to talk to. It's tricky, but I could do it.”

Nick leaned down and kissed her. “Honey, you get me that info, you can put curtains all over the house.”

Her chin inched up. “Fine, but you're buying the next ones.”

Nick laughed.

While he went in to shower and change, Samantha went to work on his computer.

 

 

She started by simply Googling the corporate names. Neither Northland nor SeaWest had a website. Next she started digging around on pay-to-subscribe websites that provided information on businesses and corporations, like
www.LexisNexis.com
. The sites provided the names of subsidiary companies under the parent corporation, the names of the executives who ran then, their addresses and even their phone numbers.

She paid the membership fee to use one of the sites and went to work. Both corporate names popped up as legally filed corporations. She had figured they would be. But as she maneuvered around the site, she realized that the information she was collecting was useless.

She couldn't find any information on John Thompson, the president of Northland, or Vince Murray, the vice president, or Richard Curts, the treasurer. Same with Robert Donahue, president of SeaWest.

She needed more information. Samantha paused, her fingers poised above the keyboard. Nick was a cop. Well, an ex-cop, but once a cop always a cop as far as she was concerned. If he knew she was hacking into corporate records, he probably wouldn't like it.

On the other hand, he had said himself there were times rules needed to be bent. Jimmy and Mary were two innocent people whose lives were in danger. Yesterday someone had set fire to their house. As far as Samantha was concerned, it was time to bend the rules.

Her fingers settled on the keyboard and Samantha went to work.

Nick was on the landline phone, the call ringing through when he heard the knock at the door. For the last two hours, he'd been dialing different number combinations, trying to make a name/number connection from the message on the scratch pad at Alex Evans's office. He hoped the area code was 907, which covered all of Alaska. If not he was screwed. Unfortunately, so far he'd gotten zilch.

He ignored the knock when someone picked up the phone on the other end of his latest call. “Hello, is this Dmitri?”

“This is Dmitri,” a heavily accented voice replied.

“Dmitri Johnson?” he asked, making up a name so the man would think it was just a wrong number.

“No.” The phone went dead.

Nick shot up a fist. He had a number and a first name. The reverse directory could give him a last name and address. If the number was unlisted, he'd have Cord get the info.

They were back in business.

Heading out of the kitchen, he hurried toward the door. When he pulled it open, his brother Rafe stood on the porch.

“Are you going to leave me out here in the cold all day or can I come in?” At six-four, Rafe was the tallest, and also the oldest of the brothers. He had Nick's dark hair, though not quite as black, and his eyes were brown instead of blue.

Nick grinned. “It wasn't locked. Come on in.”

Rafe stepped into his living room, and Nick closed the door behind him. “I was expecting a phone call,” Nick said, “not a personal visit. Dylan's never been good at keeping his mouth shut so I figured I'd hear from you sooner or later.”

“This is family business. He's worried about you.” Rafe glanced around to be sure no one could hear him. “He's convinced some little hussy is trying to take advantage of you.”

Nick laughed and shook his head. “Samantha's about the farthest thing from a hussy you'll ever meet. Come on, I'll introduce you.”

Nick started down the hall, reached for the door to his room. Rafe came to an abrupt halt behind him. “She's in your bedroom? It's the middle of the day.”

Nick grinned up at him. “Since when did you turn into a prude? You don't think it's okay to have sex in the middle of the day?”

“Why don't I just wait in the living room?”

Nick couldn't help laughing. “She's working on the computer, helping me dig up information. If you talked to Dylan, he probably told you I'm investigating a murder.”

“Actually, he didn't mention it. He was concerned about your impending fatherhood. And frankly, so am I.”

“Take it easy, okay?” Nick turned the knob and shoved open the door. Samantha sat in front of the computer, pounding away on the keyboard. “Can you take a break for a minute? I want you to meet my brother.”

Samantha's gaze flew to the doorway. Shoving back the chair, she slowly came to her feet. Her gaze went to Rafe, caught the thundercloud of disapproval carved into his features, and her face went pale.

“You . . . you told him about the baby?”

“Not exactly. Dylan did.”

She stiffened, drilled Nick with a glare. “You told your whole family? How could you? We haven't . . . haven't even really discussed it yet.”

Nick looked at Rafe and wanted to punch him. He hadn't realized how badly this was going to go down.

Samantha started for the door, but Rafe stepped in front of her. “We need to talk about this.”

Samantha's whole body went rigid. “I'm not talking to you about anything.”

“Get out of her way, Rafe,” Nick warned, trying to hang on to his temper. “Now.” Rafe, being the oldest and no fool, stepped back to let her pass.

Nick waited until she'd made it as far as the hall, then went after her, caught up with her on the way to the guest room and turned her around.

“I needed someone to talk to, okay? I called Dylan. He's engaged to be married. I figured he and Lane would be planning to have kids someday. I thought he could help me figure things out.”

“I haven't mentioned it to my family. I can't believe you called your brother. He probably thinks I'm trying to trap you into marrying me.”

It was exactly what he thought. Nick hoped once Rafe got to know Samantha, he would realize that wasn't the case.

“You didn't tell your family,” he said, “but you talked to someone, right? Your friend, Abby? Someone else you trusted? You probably needed advice as much as I did.”

Some of the stiffness went out of her shoulders. “You're right. I did talk to someone. Abby is my best friend. She helped me get over the shock.”

“Dylan and Rafe are
my
best friends.”

She sniffed. “I suppose you told Cord, too.”

“No. And I won't discuss it with anyone else until we decide how we're going to handle things. Okay?”

When she finally nodded, he slid an arm around her waist, turned her around and led her into the living room. Rafe was standing rigidly by the door.

“I'm sorry,” Samantha said to him. “I'm just . . . I'm not handling this whole thing very well.”

Rafe's dark gaze ran over her from head to foot, taking in her bouncy nutmeg curls, petite figure, and her pretty, all-American-girl face with its slightly freckled nose. There was no way he could think she was anything but what she seemed, sweet, maybe a little emotional in her current state, and sexy as hell.

“I'm the one who should apologize,” Rafe said. “I shouldn't have stuck my nose in. I'm not usually that way.”

Except when it came to family, Rafe was pretty much a loner. But he had helped raise Nick and Dylan after their mother had died. He was protective of the people he cared about, and that hadn't changed.

Samantha smiled. It lit up her whole face. Rafe blinked at the change. “You were worried about Nick. I have a brother I worry about all the time. Can you stay for supper? I bought a chicken while I was shopping. I thought maybe chicken cacciatore with some parsley buttered potatoes. Or pasta if you'd rather. I could make enough for all of us.”

Nick wasn't completely sure he liked the slow, answering smile that slid over his brother's too-handsome face. “I wish I could, but I've got to be getting back.”

“You sure?” Nick said, only a little reluctantly. “Samantha's a really great cook.”

Rafe looked past him to the window over the sink and something seemed to click. “She put up the new curtains?”

He felt the heat rising at the back of his neck. “They were a gift, okay? You don't like them, too bad.”

Rafe grinned. “Oh, I like them. I like them a lot.”

Nick couldn't figure out why his brother was grinning like a fool. The urge to punch him rose again.

“Before I head back, what's the story on this murder you're involved in?”

Happy for a neutral topic and one he needed to concentrate on, he invited Rafe to sit down in the living room. Nick spent the next half hour filling his brother in on Alexi Evanko and his son, Jimmy, and the case that had become so personal to him.

 

 

Samantha sat quietly while the brothers talked. She remembered Nick saying Rafe was the oldest, the brother who ran a charter fishing fleet in Valdez. It occurred to her that a man as protective of his family as Rafe was a man she could like very much.

“Right before you got here,” Nick said to him as he finished summing up the case, “I got a new lead. Evans wrote a name and number on the scratch pad in his office. I finally got it unscrambled.”

“You got it?” Samantha blurted out excitedly.

“Yeah.”

“Were you able to get his last name and address?”

“Not yet. I'm hoping they'll show up in the reverse directory.”

“Where's the number?” she asked. “I'll find it for you.”

“It's on the kitchen counter.”

She got up and started in that direction, stopped and turned back. “Oh, I found the name of the man who owns Northland Corporation and SeaWest.”

Nick's head came up. “The same guy owns them both?”

“It looks that way. The information was buried pretty deep but I found it.”

“What's his name?”

She pulled out the slip of paper she had stuck in the pocket of her jeans. “Luka Dragovich. Do you know the name?”

“It sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it. Cord might know.”

“Aside from the chain of Captain Henry's, I also found a list of the motels he owns and where they're located. I printed it out for you.”

“Great.”

“Sounds like a lot of Russians are popping up in this case,” Rafe said.

“Yeah. More every day. And the more there are, the worse this could get.”

“You need to be careful.”

“Always.”

Rafe unwound his tall frame and stood up from the sofa. In a different, harder way, he was just as good-looking as his brother. He moved with the same air of confidence, exuded the same sense of power and control, and his broad-shouldered frame looked fit and trim. All in all, Rafe Brodie was a very impressive man.

“I've got to be getting back,” he said. “It was nice meeting you, Samantha.”

“You, too, Rafe.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but didn't. “Take care, little brother.”

“You do the same.”

As Nick walked Rafe to the door, Samantha went into the kitchen and grabbed the paper with the phone number and the name
Dmitri
written on it. Once more seated at Nick's computer, she pulled a reverse directory up on the Internet.

The number came up as unlisted. Samantha wasn't surprised. If the man was a gangster, he would hardly have his number listed in the phone book.

Nick walked in as she got up from the machine. “Unlisted,” she said.

“I figured. I'll call Cord. The police have access to unlisted numbers.”

“Okay. While you do that, I think I'll do some yoga. I'm really feeling tied up, you know?”

His eyes darkened even as his mouth faintly curved. “Tied up? I'd be happy to try that anytime you'd like.”

She glanced at the bed, wondering if he was teasing or if he could be at least half serious. She caught the interest in those incredible blues eyes and desire trickled through her. What would it be like to be completely at the mercy of a virile male like Nick? What would he do to her? And God, how much would she like it?

After last night, one thing she knew for sure, pregnant women could still enjoy sex. She looked back at Nick, let her gaze run over his face, travel down that hard male body. She remembered the way it felt to have him on top of her, inside her. Her nipples peaked and Nick's blue eyes went hot.

“Either I'm reading your mind or you're reading mine,” he said. Striding toward her, he hauled her into his arms and very thoroughly kissed her.

They might have made it to the bed if it hadn't been for the phone ringing in the kitchen. With the trouble swirling around them, there was no way Nick could ignore it.

“Jesus. I can't seem to catch a break,” he grumbled. Kissing her one last time, he walked out of the bedroom.

Samantha sighed. Feeling even edgier than before, she headed for the guest room. Digging out a pair of snug black yoga pants and a tank top, she pulled them on and began doing her stretches.

She was an advanced student. Yoga was the way she kept her body flexible and toned. A few minutes into her routine, she began to relax. Samantha went into the lotus position, took several deep breaths, closed her eyes and let her worries slip away.