Against the Sky (17 page)

The phone call was from Cord. “Just checking in,” Cord said. “You come up with anything new?”

“Your timing's lousy, but I was going to call you. You in the office?”

“Sitting at my desk.”

“That message I got from Evans's study, it's an unlisted number for a guy, first name Dmitri. The number is five, five, five, four, one, seven, four. I need his last name and address.”

“Hang on.”

Nick waited while Cord typed the info into his computer. A couple of minutes later, he came back on the line.

“Dmitri Fedorko. Number's in Fairbanks. Sonofabitch.” Cord rattled off the street address and Nick wrote it down.

“Got it. I guess you know the name.”

“Oh, yeah. Rumored to be connected to Connie Bela Varga.”

“So our list of players is expanding. Now we've got Crocker, Turnbull, and Fedorko. Varga's in Anchorage, right?”

“Last I heard.”

“Maybe Fedorko's the Fairbanks connection.”

“Could be.”

“Listen, it looks like Evanko was doing a little money laundering—or maybe not so little. Manipulating money for a couple of different companies that all track back to a guy named Luka Dragovich. You recognize the name?”

“Hell, yes. The feds have been trying to connect Dragovich with Milushev for years. He's a real badass. You're getting into some deep shit, my friend.”

“Fedorko's in Fairbanks. That's where Evanko was working before he took the job in Anchorage.”

“If he was working for Dragovich and some of that money he was massaging fell into his own pocket, that may have been what got him killed.”

“Gotta be something like that. I figure he was walking the straight and narrow—at least where these guys were concerned—until things got tough in 2008. According to one of his business partners, he suffered some financial losses. Probably took money he figured to pay back, but somehow fucked up and got caught. Maybe he couldn't come up with enough to pay what he owed and they killed him.”

“With these guys, he was a dead man the day he took the first dollar. Whatever he did or didn't do after wouldn't matter. You ready to take this to Taggart?”

He had to have his ducks in a row if he expected his ex-boss to get involved. “The only thing we really have is the flash drive. But even if we prove Evans was involved in money laundering, that doesn't prove he was murdered. And Jankowski, Sorenson could argue the information was taken illegally. We had permission to go into Evans's office, not permission to raid his companies' private accounting files.”

“You're right. Taggart won't go for it. Maybe you could take it to Captain Caruthers.”

“Caruthers runs Crime Suppression. Those guys go to PTA meetings and come up with community action policies. He's not going over Taggart's head on this and neither is anyone else. Not with what we have now. We need something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know. I need to go to Fairbanks, see what I can turn up.”

“If you can get in and out without making waves, it might not be a bad idea. You'd have to be careful. We still can't afford for anyone to know we're working on this.”

He wondered when Cord had gone from helping him to working with him. Figured it had something to do with the lovely Mary George. Nick knew homicide, but Cord worked Vice, one of the best detectives in the division. Nick wouldn't be able to work this case without him.

“I'll send you everything I can find on Fedorko, Bela Varga, and Dragovich,” Cord said.

“Sounds good. I'll keep you posted.” Nick hung up the phone. Even as he walked out of the kitchen, his mind was working on the best way to approach the trip he needed to make. He'd call his friend, Derek Hunter, arrange a charter to fly him up, then rent a car once he got there. Derek was a bush pilot, like Nick's brother, Dylan. Derek, ex-military, was one of the best in the business. He was a good friend and a good man to know, since flying was the most common way to travel the long distances in Alaska.

Nick thought of Samantha and wished he could take her with him. It would give her a chance to see Alaska, the way he had promised. He didn't intend to get close enough to the bad guys to get him into trouble. Still . . .

The lady was pregnant. It was a stupid idea.

Figuring she was back at work on his computer, he headed down the hall. She wasn't at the desk, so he kept walking. The door to the guest room was open. Nick paused in the doorway, spotted her on the floor, and instantly went hard.

Jesus.
The woman could do amazing things with that small, supple body. She went from holding a split position to placing her palms on the floor and lifting herself slowly, gracefully into the air. With her back to him, she didn't realize he was there, but she was concentrating so hard, he didn't think it would matter even if he spoke to her.

Next she lowered her feet to the floor, bent in half and caught hold of her ankles. Nick's groin tightened. The sight of that tight little ass in the air was more than he could stand. Striding forward he moved behind her, set his hands gently on her hips and let her feel him, hard as a stone.

She didn't flinch, just slowly straightened to an upright position in front of him, slid a hand behind his neck and bowed herself closer.

Jesus God.
Nick pressed his mouth against the side of her neck and turned her around, softly kissed those full pink lips, then took the kiss to a deeper level. Samantha kissed him back with all the heat he had imagined when he'd been watching her.

The bed was just inches away. He eased her in that direction, imagined her bent over the way he'd found her, turned her to face the bed.

“Put your palms flat on the mattress,” he said softly, firmly, giving her little choice.

She sucked in a breath, but did what he asked, knowing what he wanted. What he had to have after watching her.

“You have the most beautiful little ass,” he said because it was his favorite part of her body. He smoothed a hand over her hips, slid the side of his hand between her legs, heard her soft moan.

Grabbing the waistband of her stretch pants, he peeled them down to her ankles, urged her to step out of them, then returned to his place behind her. Sliding his hands over her bare hips, he reached around and began to gently stroke her, found her amazingly wet and hot. Samantha arched her back like a needy little cat as he unzipped his fly and freed himself.

He didn't need a condom. She was already pregnant and he was clean. His jaw flexed at the notion of being inside her unsheathed.

Nick hissed in a breath and an instant later, he was. “God, I love the way you feel.”

She made a little whimpering sound as he gripped her hips and started to move. Slowly at first, letting her get used to having him inside her this way, then moving faster, deeper. He knew what they were doing was safe in her condition. Samantha wasn't the only one who knew how to Google. And he would never do anything to hurt her.

She arched her back to take more of him, let out a soft whimper as she started to come. Nick drove into her, faster, harder, deeper, until her passage tightened around him and she moaned as she reached her peak. Nick let himself go, his muscles tightening as he felt the first hot rush of pleasure. Samantha trembled as a second climax shook her, and his own release struck hard.

When the tremors fully subsided, he eased her up and turned her into his arms, very softly kissed her. He ran a finger along her cheek. “You make me crazy. You know that?”

She leaned into him, rested her head against his chest. “Sex was never really important to me. I never really enjoyed it until I met you.” She looked up at him, straight into his eyes. “You set me free.”

Nick cupped her face in his hands. “I won't do anything to hurt you or the baby. You know that, right?”

She nodded. “I know. Pretty much everything regular is okay.”

He smiled back. “Yeah, I know.”

She let out a long, contented sigh. “I'm kind of sweaty. I think I'll shower and dress.”

He thought of her naked, warm water sluicing over her feminine curves. “How about I join you?”

Samantha grinned. “Okay. But it's way too cold to run out of hot water.”

Nick grinned back. “Then I guess we'll have to hurry.”

Samantha laughed and they headed for the shower.

 

 

The crackle of chicken browning in the skillet filled the kitchen, along with the smell of garlic and olive oil. Samantha stood at the kitchen counter next to Nick, chopping onion and bell pepper for the chicken cacciatore she had promised to make him earlier.

“Sounds like whatever is going on may have some connection to Fairbanks,” she said as Nick grabbed a slice of pepper and popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah, that's the thing,” he said around it. “I need to get up there. I talked to a friend of mine. Derek can fly me up tomorrow. I figured I'd rent a car once I got there. Since I need to do the stakeout at night, I'll have to drive back the next day.”

Samantha turned toward him, holding the chopping knife like a weapon. “Wait a minute. You keep saying
I.
You aren't thinking of leaving me here?”

“You're pregnant, honey. I can't very well take you on a stakeout.”

“That's what you're planning to do? Stakeout Dmitri Fedorko's house?”

“That's right. And spend some time checking out those motels Dragovich owns.”

“You said you were staying overnight. You'll need to rent a room, right? Why can't I wait for you there? That way I could fly up with you, see what Alaska looks like. We could drive back together.”

Nick shook his head. “It's a bad idea. These guys are criminals. Something might go wrong.”

“If it did, I'd be safe in the motel room. I'm a big girl. Even if something happened, I could find my way home.”

Nick's mouth edged up. “I can't afford to get too close, so nothing's going to happen. But it's still a bad idea.”

“I want to go.” If she went, on the drive back home, maybe the time would be right for them to talk. She was a little more ready for that to happen. “Say you'll take me with you.”

Nick released a slow breath. “I'll admit I thought about it. You're only going to be here a couple of weeks and so far, I haven't been much of a host.”

He'd been a fine host. She'd come to Alaska to get to know him, not run around out in the woods in the freezing cold. Not her idea of a good time.

But she didn't say that. “I want to go. I'll stay in the motel room. You do your stakeout and come back. The next day we'll drive back together.”

He walked up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, leaned down and nuzzled the back of her neck. Yummy little chills raced up and down her spine.

“I shouldn't take you,” he said, “but, dammit, I want you to go.”

She turned and slid her arms around his neck, gave him a brilliant smile. “Then it's settled. What time do we leave in the morning?”

He returned her smile. “Derek's checking the weather. There's a storm coming in later in the week, but he thinks it's going to be decent flying weather tomorrow. We have to be at the airport at nine o'clock.”

“How long does it take to get to Fairbanks?”

“It's right at three-hundred miles from Wasilla to Fairbanks, but only two hours by plane.”

“Okay, I'll be ready.” She eased out of his arms and returned to fixing supper, removing the golden brown chicken and setting it aside, adding the peppers, onions, mushrooms, and white wine to the pan.

“Man, that smells good,” Nick said, inhaling the aroma as he walked over to the stove. “Looks like you made plenty, which is good since you're eating for two.” His eyes traveled down her body, stopped at her waist. “Are you feeling okay? You haven't been sick or anything? I thought that's what happened when a woman got pregnant.”

“I feel great. My mom never got sick either. She said she was meant to have kids. She said she was one of the lucky ones.”

“When are you going to tell her?”

Samantha shrugged. She wasn't prepared to tell her family, not until she made a few more decisions. Maybe she wasn't as ready to talk about this as she'd thought.

“I'm not sure. I guess when I get back.”

“I could . . . you know, come with you if you want. When you tell them, I mean.”

She just shook her head. “I'll be fine. Why don't you set the table or something?”

He smiled. He had the most beautiful smile. “Is that a polite way of getting rid of me?”

“I cook better when I'm on my own.” That wasn't exactly true. She enjoyed having company while she cooked. She just didn't want to talk about her parents and the baby.

“Okay, I get the hint. I'll set the table then I've got an errand to run. I'll be back in time for supper.”

“Perfect.” But once he was gone from the kitchen, Samantha felt unexpectedly lonesome. Since when had she started getting used to having Nick Brodie around? How deep was she letting herself get involved with him?

Her chest tightened. She'd convinced herself this was just a trip to help her make some tough decisions. Now her emotions were coming into play. Maybe going to Fairbanks was a bad idea.

On the other hand, they still needed to talk.

Samantha shoved her worries aside and concentrated on finishing supper.

Derek kept his single-engine plane, a well-maintained Cessna 185, at a small private airstrip outside Wasilla. Nick arrived at exactly nine and spotted Derek making a physical inspection of the plane, getting it ready for takeoff.

Black canvas duffel in one hand, Nick grabbed Samantha's wheeled carry-on and they started across the tarmac. The red-and-white-striped Cessna seated four to six, depending on how it was configured. It could slow to fifty-five miles an hour for landing, which made it a great plane for getting in and out of the wilderness.

Nick dropped his duffel next to a wheel, reached out and shook his friend's hand. “Hey, Derek.”

“Hey, Nick, good to see you.”

“Derek, this is Samantha Hollis. She's visiting from San Francisco. She's coming with us.”

“Welcome, Samantha.” Derek grinned, flashing a mouthful of perfect teeth, giving her the once-over before reaching out to shake her hand. He was dark-haired and green-eyed, an incorrigible ladies' man. Nick had forgotten that.

She smiled. “It's nice to meet you, Derek.”

“She's never been to Alaska,” Nick said. “I figured she'd enjoy the scenery.”

“It's a beautiful trip. And the sun's coming out between the clouds. Weather's changing tomorrow, but it should be okay today.” He tipped his head toward the plane, his pride and joy. “Ever been up in one of these babies?”

She shook her head. “A small commuter is as close as I've come.”

“Then you're in for a treat.”

Derek loaded their bags and Nick helped Samantha climb aboard. “You want to ride in the copilot's chair?” Nick asked. “You could see out a lot better.”

She quickly shook her head. “No, thanks, I'm fine back here.” Settling herself in the seat, she snapped her belt in place as Nick climbed aboard. Instead of sitting in the copilot's chair as he usually did, he sat in the seat next to Samantha.

“You ready for this?”

She moistened her lips. “Sure.”

He could tell she was nervous, but he figured she'd relax once they got into the air. He smiled. “You won't believe what you're going to see.”

The smile she gave him looked a little wobbly. “I can't wait.”

Nick frowned, beginning to regret his decision. She hadn't done this before and Samantha wasn't really the adventurous type.

“You don't have to worry,” he said. “Derek's a really great pilot.”

Another weak smile. “I'm sure we'll be fine.”

A few minutes later, the final flight check had been made, Derek was flipping switches and the plane was beginning to taxi down the runway. Nick noticed Samantha gripping her seat, but she didn't say anything. By the time they got into the air, her face was pale.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I'm okay. Taking off kind of scared me. Sorry, I'm new at this. I'll be fine as soon as I get used to it.”

But half an hour later, as the plane dropped into a trough and climbed out again, she looked even paler than before. The plane vibrated, rocked, rolled, dipped, and swayed.

“Sorry, guys,” Derek said. “It's rougher than I thought it would be. Nothing to worry about; just isn't as relaxing as I'd hoped.”

Samantha closed her eyes.

“Are you getting sick?” Nick asked worriedly.

“A little, I guess.”

Dammit, he knew he shouldn't have brought her. Samantha wasn't cut out for this kind of thing. Sitting on the floor doing yoga and . . . other things . . . was about as much excitement as she could handle.

“Keep your eyes open and fix your attention on the horizon. It'll help you keep your bearings.”

She nodded, turned to stare out the window. Range after range of incredible mountain peaks spread out on either side of the plane, rising from deep green forests to barren granite slopes well above the tree line, then changing to sparkling white, year-round snow-covered peaks.

“That's Mount McKinley.” Nick pointed toward the majestic white-topped mountain ringed with clouds rising into the sky on Samantha's side of the airplane. “It's twenty-thousand-feet high, the tallest point in North America.”

Her attention sharpened. She smiled and nodded. The plane had smoothed out a little and Samantha's nervousness seemed to ease. They were traveling mostly above Highway 3, the scenic route that stretched between Anchorage and Fairbanks. With mountain ranges in the distance along each side of the roadway, they could fly a little lower, avoid using oxygen.

He hadn't mentioned that possibility. Apparently Derek had taken pity on the first-time, bush-plane flyer and was taking the easier route.

Samantha turned toward him. “It's beautiful, Nick. I've seen pictures, but they can't begin to do it justice. I've never seen anything so spectacular.”

Relief trickled through him. “So I guess you're feeling better.”

“My stomach's settled down, but I'll be glad when we get there.”

He might have smiled if the thought hadn't struck that he hoped his kid was a little more adventurous than Samantha.

His kid.
The idea was just beginning to take root. He was going to be a father.

Whatever happened between him and Samantha, Nick was determined to be a good one.

 

 

The plane landed in Fairbanks—at last. Once the wheels stopped rolling and the engine went still, Samantha finally relaxed. The men climbed out of the cabin and Derek went to work securing the plane while Nick reached up to help her out of the passenger compartment. Setting his hands at her waist, he swung her down to the tarmac as if she weighed less than nothing. Samantha had never been so grateful to have both feet planted firmly on the ground.

“So how did you like it?” Derek asked as he walked toward them.

How did she like it? She hoped he didn't notice the tremor that rippled through her. “It was . . . interesting. It really wasn't so bad once I got used to it.”

Derek flashed a winning smile. “But you'd rather be on the ground, right?” With his dark hair and smiling eyes, he was extremely good-looking. She imagined women fell at his feet. As far as she was concerned, he didn't have anywhere near the sex appeal Nick had.

She flicked the pilot a sideways glance, saw Nick waiting to hear her reply, and told them the truth. “The mountains were amazing. One of the most spectacular sights I've ever seen and one I'll never forget. I'm really glad I got to see them. But you're right. I'm not much for flying.”

Nick just smiled. “I've never been crazy about it, myself,” he said. “Unlike my brother, I've always preferred jumping out of a plane to riding cooped up inside one.”

He was talking about his days as a Ranger. The image of Nick stepping out into thin air made her stomach roll the way it had on the airplane.

“Unfortunately, flying's pretty much mandatory if you want to get around up here,” he finished.

Nick was used to it, but Samantha never would be. Just one more obstacle between them.

From the plane, Nick led her over to the rental car agency to pick up the vehicle he had rented. The weather had shifted, a wall of clouds completely obscuring the sun. The already chilly temperature must have dropped twenty degrees.

Samantha shivered inside her jacket. In San Francisco, it was her warmest piece of clothing. Here it was like wearing a lightweight sweater.

Nick must have noticed. He dropped his canvas duffel on the asphalt and unzipped it. “I've got something for you.” Pulling out a heavy dark green jacket with a fur-trimmed hood, he held it up for her inspection. “I got it yesterday while you were cooking supper. I think it's time you put it on.”

The wind swept icily over her face, and she eyed the jacket with longing. “You didn't need to do that.”

“Seriously? You're freezing. Put it on.”

She didn't argue. She wasn't a fool. Sliding her arms into the sleeves, he settled it on her shoulders. It was plenty big, but it fit.

“I bought it loose enough to fit over a heavier sweater. You like it?”

She pulled up the hood, felt the tickle of the fur against her cheeks. For the first time all day, every part of her felt warm. Did she like it? She loved it.

“It's great.” She snuggled deeper. “I'm kind of hard to fit. I can't believe you got the right size.”

He grinned. “It's a kid's extra large. I figured it'd be just right.” He zipped the jacket up for her, then grabbed his duffel and tipped his head toward the rows of cars in the rental car lot. “I've got one reserved.”

Apparently he had a Wizard account. Samantha went inside with him while he picked up the keys, waited while he went to get the car. He drove up in a plain brown Chevy Malibu.

“Color won't stand out and it's got GPS,” he said. “And front wheel drive—safer if the weather gets worse and the roads get bad.”

She thought of the bumpy plane ride.
Oh, dear God.

Nick tossed her wheeled bag in the trunk, zipped his duffel and tossed it in with hers, slammed the lid. Helping her into the passenger seat, he rounded the car and slid behind the wheel. She hadn't noticed the holstered pistol in his hand till he set it down on the console between them.

“You brought your gun?”

He picked up the weapon, slid it out of its holster, and showed it to her. “Glock 21 .45 caliber semi-auto. I got used to carrying this model when I was on the force.”

“I thought you didn't expect any trouble.”

“I don't, but it's always better to be prepared. These guys don't play games, Samantha.”

“So it's loaded.”

He grinned. “They aren't much good if they're empty.”

She sat back in her seat as he shoved the gun back into its holster, set it on the center console, reached down and started the engine.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Samantha sighed. “I feel so out of my depths up here. Alaska. Guns. Murder.” She looked at him hard. “You.”

Nick's gaze swung to hers. “I'm the same man you knew in Las Vegas.”

“In some ways, yes. You're definitely the man who came to my rescue in the hall.”

“I'm the man who took you to bed in Vegas. Same man here.”

For the first time that day, her smile felt sincere. “Better. You're an even better lover than he was.”

Nick laughed. “I think that's kind of a backward compliment.”

She just smiled. Nick had been the perfect lover in Vegas. And he was a better-than-perfect lover here. She didn't say it because she figured he was confident enough in that area already.

“So where are we going?” she asked as the Chevy rolled along the road, her gaze going out the window to her surroundings. Unlike the mountainous terrain they'd been flying over, Fairbanks was relatively flat. The tallest buildings in the city were maybe ten or twelve stories, and they were few and far between. It seemed more an overgrown town than a city.

“That's the Chena River we just drove across. It wanders all over town. There's a place I like to stay right on the water. Individual cabins, and you can park out front. I called ahead and made a reservation.”

“That sounds good.”

“We'll check in and then I'll drive by those motels on your list. There are only three in the area. The Snooze Inn. The Rest Haven. And The Waterfront. They're not in the best parts of town.”

“Let's drive by now, check them out.”

“No way. You brought your laptop, right? You can e-mail your family or something, keep yourself busy while I do some recon. That was the deal, remember?”

“Fine, but I'm hungry.” She gave him a playful smile. “Maybe we could get some fish and chips. I hear Captain Henry's is really good.”

Nick chuckled, seemed to be thinking it over. “I guess that couldn't hurt. Fish and chips it is.”

Samantha leaned back in her seat. She might not be the adventurous type, but solving a mystery was something else entirely.