Chapter Twenty-Three
The snow had stopped and the sun was out. The temperature had risen enough to thaw the ground, turning the sidewalks slick and the roadsides muddy. Nick settled a hand at Samantha's waist as he led her up the front steps, through the familiar doors of the Anchorage PD, a two-story building on Elmore Road.
“Hey, Nick!” one of the detectives called out as he headed down the hall. “Finally decided to get your ass back to work, eh?”
“Hey, Wally. Not exactly.” He walked up to the front desk and spoke to the female officer behind the counter, tall, dark-haired, and fit, with biceps that could compete in an arm-wrestling contest. “Trish, I need to see Captain Taggart ASAP. Tell him it's important.”
“Sure, Nick. I'll let him know.” She glanced down at Samantha, but spoke to him. “And you're here with . . . ?”
“Samantha Hollis, my fiancée.”
Samantha opened her mouth, but Nick shook his head, warning her now was not the time. He was only a little surprised she didn't argue. Trish went to work on the intercom, relaying the news to his former boss. When she turned back, faint color marked her cheeks.
“Captain Taggart says it's about time he heard from you, and you're to . . . umm . . . get your ass back there right now.”
Fuck.
Apparently he'd already heard from law enforcement in Fairbanks. “Thanks, Trish.”
“I gather your boss isn't happy,” Samantha said as he urged her forward.
“Taggart's always mad about something.” They walked down the hall. Nick opened the door to the captain's office and led her inside. It was spotlessly clean, every piece of paper filed away, the books perfectly lined up in the bookcase. The walls were lined with gold-framed commendations, Taggart's BA from the University of Washington, his masters in Police Science from UAA, anything and everything that said how great he was.
The captain rose from behind his desk, six feet tall, sandy hair touched with gray, athletic build. He prided himself on eating healthy and staying in shape. He was a complete dick and one of the main reasons Nick had quit the force.
“Nice of you to drop by,” Taggart said sarcastically. “I guess you figured I might have a couple of questions for youâlike why you drove all the way to Fairbanks to stick your nose into a federal undercover operation. Your John Wayne routine damn near blew two years of hard work. What the hell did you think you were doing?”
Nick clamped down on his temper. Taggart always treated people as if he was the smartest guy in the room, which he never was. Nick took a moment to assess the news he was now involved with the feds.
“I was looking into a murder, trying to get enough evidence to convince you to open an investigation. While I was at it, I managed to stumble onto a human trafficking operation. But I guess you know about that.”
He felt Samantha stiffen beside him. Probably couldn't believe the police would know what was happening to those girls and not do anything to stop it.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Taggart said. “There's a federal task force investigating Dmitri Fedorko for drug smuggling. Showing up at those fast-food places the way you did put Fedorko's people on alert. You could have gotten a federal undercover officer killed.”
“Drug-running isn't the half of it. It looks like Fedorko and Connie Bela Varga may be working for Luka Dragovich. They're prostituting underage girls. Kids twelve, thirteen years old. I have a feeling they're hauling them in off the streets and forcing them into the life.”
“I think they may be using the Internet,” Samantha said, “advertising on erotic services websites. I saw a couple of ads for girls in the Fairbanks area when I was working online.”
“Who the hell is
she?
” Taggart asked.
“I'm Samantha Hollis.”
“She's my fiancée.” Nick set a hand at her waist, making it clear she was under his protection.
“That's right,” Samantha agreed, surprising him yet again. “I work with computers. I've been helping Nick gather evidence.”
“For the murder I mentioned,” Nick said. “Guy named Alex Evans. Looks like he was cooking the books for Dragovich.”
“Alex Evans? The CPA who was a partner at Jankowski, Sorenson?”
“That's right. There's a chance they're all involved.”
Taggart straightened to his full height, which still left him two inches shorter than Nick, something he undoubtedly hated. “You're talking about a highly respected accounting firm in Anchorage. One that is extremely supportive of law enforcement. Whatever you think you're investigating is over. You understand?”
Nick forced his jaw to unlock. “What about the girls?”
“The feds will handle this however they see fit. You stay out of it.”
“So that's it?” Samantha asked. “That's all you're going to do?”
“That's right. And that's all you're going to do.” He drilled Nick with a glare. “You hear me, Brodie?”
“What about the dead guy in the motel room? And the two I shot full of holes? What do you plan to do about them?”
“There is no dead guy. According to the feds, Fedorko's men picked up the body. No reports of gunshot wounds from any of the hospitals. You got lucky this time, Brodie.” He smirked. “Though I imagine you're going to get one helluva repair bill from that motel you shot to pieces.”
Nick's jaw tightened.
Samantha squared her small shoulders. “It's your job to protect people. Those girls are just kids. You have to help them!”
“Get her out of here,” Taggart warned. “Before I put you both in jail.”
Samantha started to say something more, but Nick wrapped an arm around her waist and started hauling her toward the door. “Time to go home, sweetheart.”
She sputtered something he was glad he couldn't hear as he pulled her into the hall and firmly closed the door.
“I can't believe that man. He's a completeâ”
“Yeah, I know.” Nick grabbed her hand and started tugging her down the hall. He didn't stop until they were outside the building and headed back to the car.
“Well, that went well,” Samantha said as he loaded her into the rented Chevy.
“I wish I was surprised.”
She looked up at him with those big doe eyes. As tired as he was, he felt a little kick. “Now I know why you quit.”
Nick smiled, leaned down and kissed her.
Once they were back on the road, he drove a couple of blocks, then pulled out his cell phone and hit Cord's number.
“We just left Taggart's office. Everything go as planned on your end?”
“I've got Mary and Jimmy with me at the cabin. Mary's not happy about it. I haven't told her much. Hell, I don't know much.”
“You got room for two more?”
“You bet. I figured you'd be heading in this direction. I stocked up on supplies in Wasilla along the way. How'd it go with Taggart?”
Nick scrubbed a hand over his face. “Looks like I wound up in the middle of a federal undercover op. From what I could tell, the agent's cover didn't get blown, so we're okay there. But Taggart's got his balls in an uproar. We aren't going to get squat help from him.”
“So the feds are going after Fedorko?”
“That's what Taggart says. Unfortunately, they're focused on his drug operation. He's also running underage girls and it looks like both Fedorko and Bela Varga may be working for Dragovich.”
Cord whistled.
“I'll fill you in when I get there.”
“Turn off your phone. You don't want them tracking you. I picked up some throwaways we can use from now on.”
“I'm on it. See you soon.” Nick hung up and tossed his phone to Samantha. “Turn it off and do the same with yours. We don't want them using GPS to track us.”
Ignoring the sudden pallor of her face, Nick focused his attention on driving while Samantha turned off the phones.
Dropping the cell phones into her purse, Samantha leaned back in her seat. It had quit snowing hours ago, sometime between their stop at the Bear Tooth Mercantile and the police department in Anchorage. It was late morning now, the sun out, lighting a ring of distant white-capped peaks.
Samantha had come to appreciate the spectacular scenery in Alaska. She hated the cold and the isolation, but she understood Nick's attraction to the rugged high-mountain landscape. This was a man's country. And Nick was all man.
“We're going to Cord's house, right?” she said as the car headed north, back the way they had come.
“He's got a place near Hatcher's Pass. It's a big house so there's plenty of room.”
“I gather that's where he took Mary and Jimmy.”
“Yeah.”
“I think Cord is as overprotective as you are.”
Nick smiled for the first time that day. “That's a good thing, right?”
Her lips twitched. “Sometimes.”
Nick used his turn signal, pulled around a slower vehicle, then moved back into the right lane. The earlier snow was mostly melted, but there were still patches of white on the ground.
“Cord's place is way off the road,” Nick said. “His parents built it, left it to him when they died. He mostly uses it on weekends. It's a safe place for us to hole up. I don't want to leave you alone, and I have work to do.”
“Then we're still working the case.”
He flicked her a sideways glance. “What, you thought I was just going to quit? Taggart's an idiot. All he cares about is the glory. I've got a friend named Charlie Ferrell. He's FBI. Charlie'll help us if he can.”
“Do you think Cord has an Internet connection at the house?”
“He's on satellite. He may be out in the wilderness, but these days you're only as far away as your Internet connection.”
That was good because she had work to do, too. She wanted to get back on the Net, see if she could find an ad on an erotic website that connected to any of the motels the Northland Corporation owned around the state.
“How long will we be staying? I've got my overnight bag but there isn't much in it. Sooner or later, I'm going to need some clothes.”
“I'll get us both some, but I need to make sure my house isn't being watched. First we need to get rid of the rental car.”
They headed for the car agency in Wasilla where Nick had arranged to drop the Chevy. He went inside and took care of the paperwork, paid for the broken window and miscellaneous damages, which included no small number of bullet holes. She worried about the questions he might have to answer, but then he'd been a cop, so she figured he'd know what to say.
“Derek moved the Explorer so we could get home.” Carrying his bag and towing hers, he led her across the parking lot.
“Derek seemed like a nice guy.”
“He's a good friend. We've known each other since we were kids.” He spotted his big black Explorer, loaded the bags into the back and helped her climb inside. Locating his keys under the driver's seat, he slid behind the wheel.
“Are you sure you don't want me to drive? You must be exhausted. You haven't slept in over thirty hours.”
“I'll sleep when we get to Cord's.” Firing up the powerful V-8 engine, he pulled out of the parking lot.
As the SUV rolled down the highway, a sign reading
TRUNK ROAD
appeared, and Nick turned north. A few miles down the road, he turned again, ending up on Fishhook-Willow Road. At a place called Turner's Corner, Nick pulled up next to one of the gas pumps.
“I want to top off the tank.”
“Good idea. I need to make a pit stop anyway.”
He rounded the car and opened the gas tank, caught her arm as she walked past him. “You're still okay, right? You aren't feeling sick or anything?”
“I feel fine. Tired, but fine. I'll be right back.” She went in and used the bathroom, bought a cup of coffee for each of them and two packages of those little white powdered donuts she loved.
Nick stood waiting next to the passenger door of the SUV. She handed him the coffee and a package of donuts. “I figured you could use something to eat.”
He helped her climb in, took a big gulp of the steaming hot liquid and made a sound of pleasure in his throat. “Cord stocked up on groceries before he headed up to the cabin, but this is great.” He took another sip of coffee, leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks.” As tired as she was, heat spread low in her belly.
Nick took another drink of coffee, ripped open the cellophane package with his teeth and wolfed down two donuts before she had time to fasten her seat belt.
The other four were gone by the time he got back in the vehicle and started the engine.
“It's not far from here,” he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Samantha leaned back against the seat and fixed her attention on the view outside the window. The road was narrow, more like a bumpy asphalt lane. It was lined with trees, but the branches were bare except for a dusting of snow. She could see mountains sloping upward in the distance. As Nick drove toward Cord's cabin, she rested her head against the back of the seat and let the magnificent vistas soothe her.
She was just beginning to relax when Nick slammed on the brakes, throwing her against the seat belt.
“Sorry,” he said, and pointed ahead. “Moose. Up here they pretty much own the road.”
As if the huge beast didn't have a care in the world, the animal sauntered from one side of the lane to the other and gradually disappeared into the snow-dusted foliage. He was incredible, with antlers that must have spanned nearly six feet. Alaska was freezing cold, harsh, and amazing. The kind of place a masculine man like Nick would love.