Phantom in the Night (B.A.D. Agency, #2)(3)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

"That’s not the real reason you cut out. The agency would have_"

"What?" She strangled the pen in her fist, then crossed her arms to hide her hands. "The DEA turned its back on me and left me out to hang."

"Not exactly. You made the final decision."

"Oh, sure. I resigned. You’re right." She clicked the pen head up and down, then stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was televise a slim hold on her control. "They suspended me and started an investigation while I was hooked up to tubes in a hospital. Excuse me if I’m just a little… irritable."

Brady paced two steps away, hands in his pockets, then paused and met her gaze with a shielded one. "What did you expect them to do?"

"I expected them to_" Her throat clogged. Pain and humiliation wrapped around the memory that shadowed her thoughts daily. "I expected them to believe me and to back me up. Not to blame me for Conroy’s death or suspect me of working with Marseaux." Damn them all. Who could possibly think she’d kill her partner and join ranks with that vermin Marseaux?

"The DEA has not taken any action against you." Yet.

"True, but in two weeks they’ll make a final determination and close the case."

"Or charge me with a crime" She raced the clock to prove her innocence and find Conroy’s killer, DEA Internal Affairs was racing just as hard to charge and convict her.

"Stay clear of any trouble and you should be fine."

Terri let a humorless chuckle escape. Brady should just say it straight: Don’t get caught associating with any felons.

Easy for him to say. She needed contacts, to groom new informants, and that meant consorting with felons. No easy task with word out that her last snitch had died after she and her partner, Conroy, had been ambushed. Her best contact on the Marseaux case had been found murdered the next day.

The minute she’d awakened after surgery, Terri had quickly realized the questions being put to her were DEA interrogation level, not just for information. She’d put her faith in them and they’d screwed her.

Never again. While going through rehab she’d been recruited by BAD_the Bureau of American Defense_and now worked for the multijurisdictional covert agency that protected American citizens wherever they might be found. The DEA didn’t even know BAD existed. Another reason she’d signed on.

Two weeks. Terri swatted an errant curl off her forehead. She’d be lucky to find a felon willing to talk to her again.

"Save your advice. I didn’t get into trouble before." Terri cringed at her shrewish voice. She owed the DEA nothing, but she did owe Brady for making a clean shot at the man who had tried to carve her a new body with a twelve-inch butcher knife. Reaching inside herself for the calm she’d been taught in self-defense training, she took a deep breath. "The agency didn’t want me back, and even if they had I’d have been stuck at a desk job. Might as well post a bulletin stating I’m not trustworthy in the field."

More importantly, she couldn’t clear her name or find out who had set her and Conroy up while sitting at a desk, answering phones. Signing on with BAD gave her a fighting chance.

Brady had the decency to look uncomfortable. His gaze wandered around the room before he muttered, "Neither here nor there at this point." Then he focused on her again. "So you got plans for Fat Tuesday? Want to hook up for a drink later?"

She hadn’t been asked out in a while, so on one level that was flattering, but not a path she wanted to travel again. Especially not with him. "Not right now. I’m pretty busy." Proving my innocence and convicting a vicious killer_you know, the usual stuff that might preoccupy a woman facing prison time.

His eyebrows tilted together at the lie, seeing the truth behind her words, but he didn’t press the issue. "Still haven’t figured out what you want, huh?"

She tensed at his dig. Three glasses of wine after a long day four months ago and she’d blabbed to him some of her most personal thoughts. But that wasn’t enough humiliation for her. Oh no, she had to finish with telling him she didn’t know what she wanted out of life.

He’d used that as an invitation to help her figure it out.

Talk about having a blonde moment. She shook it off. "Well, sugar, half of figuring out what you want in life is by figuring out what you don’t. Let’s just stick to business, okay? What are you doing down here? This isn’t your usual area." Terri picked up her clipboard.

"I’m on a case." He glanced to the decedent. "What’s your interest in this body?"

She relaxed. Brady had come in because of the male victim and not just to see her. Maybe they could keep this professional after all. "John Doe was found at noon today in the area I’ve been investigating."

Brady’s eyes widened a bit. "What are you working on?"

"I can’t discuss that with you any more than you can discuss your case with me."

Curiosity burned deep in his eyes. "So where you been? Who you working for?"

She considered her answer and decided best to stick with the cover she’d been given by BAD. "I’m consulting with the New Orleans Police Department."

"Ah… I heard about that."

Terri didn’t take the bait to explain. She stonewalled, forcing him to carry the conversation if he wanted to continue.

He cleared his throat. "Got a buddy in the NOPD who says there’s a rumor you’re with some private agency. Who?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "And I slice open chickens at midnight to sacrifice to the great gods of Santería. I’m just a consultant, Brady. No real news there." Confidence returned, she served that up in a bored tone. "Anything you can tell me about this body?"

Brady’s gaze danced from her to the body and back. He was clearly buying time to decide what_if anything_he should share. She doubted he’d give up anything of use.

"Guy’s name is Nathan Drake. He was running drugs and tried to double-cross the wrong family."

Every alarm in her body rang out. Why would he share that when the concept alone went against his very nature? "How do you know this?"

"He was our snitch inside an organized crime family. Drake got greedy and tried to work one angle too many. Got what he deserved." Brady pinned a gimlet stare on Terri. "That’s why you can’t trust these guys."

Her face heated at his unexpected censure. She’d paid the price for trusting a snitch_a felon_who’d double-crossed her. She didn’t need Brady to remind her, but criticizing him would stymie this unexpected flow of information.

Terri suffered in silence and hedged for more. "Thanks for the name. I’ll pull this guy’s rap sheet when I get back to headquarters."

"Save you some time. He doesn’t have a rap sheet."

Now that surprised her. "You sure?"

"Yeah. His brother, Jamie, is doing hard time for running drugs, supposed to get out in a month. We found Nathan when he buried his mother a few weeks back and someone in our unit mistook him for Jamie."

"They look that much alike?"

Brady licked his lips, then said, "Pretty close. We dug around, found out Jamie was still in prison and that Nathan was listed as MIA from the army two years ago… the same time his brother got put away. Didn’t take much to figure out he’d gone AWOL to come home and take care of his sick mother."

That made sense. It also made her ache for the poor man on the gurney. Shame to do something so noble and then end up like this. "So what did Nathan do for you?"

Brady shrugged, his gaze moving around the room as if he was contemplating how much more he’d share.

Or was he shading the truth?

He paced two steps again as he spoke. "Nathan had special training in the military. We approached him and said we wouldn’t tell the army about finding him if he’d go undercover and help us nail the head of the family. He agreed, got a job in a shipping company, a front for moving contraband."

In other words, Brady caught the poor sucker at a real low moment and coerced him into working for the DEA.

Terri tried to think professionally and keep her emotions locked away, but this guy had basically died because he got blackmailed into helping the Feds. "You screwed him."

"Not really." Brady broke eye contact as he spoke, a sign he was hiding something. "We had good intel. Nathan was dealing drugs, just not at the level his brother Jamie had. We didn’t ask him to do anything he wasn’t already into."

Terri accepted the information, with a healthy dose of suspicion. She’d worked with Brady long enough to know he was either holding back or tweaking the truth.

He crossed his arms. "We gave Nathan a file on the major players in the family we were after and asked if he thought he could get inside."

"Like he had a choice?"

"Everyone has a choice, Terri." His tone carried more weight than the topic they discussed. He wasn’t over her subtle rejection, nor had he found it subtle.

She broke eye contact this time. "Whatever."

Surprisingly, Brady kept talking. "Nathan said he knew the family from what his brother had told him. Said he’d go in if we would get his brother out of prison early and clear his military record. I agreed. If he’d gotten us what we needed by this Friday, I’d have had his brother out by this weekend, barring any discipline issues. So he screwed himself."

She frowned. "How long has his brother been in the pen?"

" ‘Bout two years."

"Then why the rush to get him out a couple weeks early?"

Brady’s gaze flattened, uncaring. "Maybe because their mother was so close to dying. Or maybe he just wanted something in his wasted life to look noble. Who knows?"

Terri considered that. She also considered another possibility. Like maybe this body had nothing to do with her investigation at the docks. Just a coincidental matter of the body being in the same proximity at the wrong time.

She ran Brady’s words through her mind again. "Could you really get his brother out or were you just bluffing?" Just how straight had Brady played this game with Drake?

"Jamie is due out in a month. Warden claims he’s a model prisoner. Wouldn’t have been hard to cut a deal to spring him early so long as the warden didn’t buck us. But this guy Drake turned out to be a dead end_no pun intended_in our investigation." Brady grinned. For once, he didn’t look attractive or sexy, just annoying and arrogant.

"You’re so hilarious." Terri refrained from shaking her head and calling Brady a jackass. The effort would be wasted on him, because he was after all a jackass. She turned to the deceased. "I need to get back to work_"

"You’re done. He’s part of our investigation." Brady had put just a little too much emphasis on "our." "Nothing here for the New Orleans PD. This stiff belongs to us. If they have any questions tell them to contact me, but hands off as of now. I’ll have Drake picked up tomorrow."

Terri stood up to face Brady. What was so important that he’d make an issue out of one drug mule’s body? She had a job to do. If she could determine this didn’t fit with her investigation then she’d let Brady have his way.

How much more would he share? "What drug family was connected to the shipping company Drake worked for?"

Brady’s chest moved slowly with several breaths, delaying again… and piquing her interest. "The Marseaux group."

Terri nodded. "Okay, that clears up his identity and simplifies my list of things to check. I’ve got plenty on my plate without getting involved with the DEA." She snapped the clipboard to her chest and smiled, offering a sign of her appreciation. Brady’s "insider" buddy in the New Orleans PD had no way of knowing BAD had sent her undercover to find out if the Marseaux family was supplying weapons to a terrorist organization.

On the other hand, BAD didn’t know she’d jumped at the chance to remain in the field because she had her own mission_to ferret out who had set her and Conroy up for an ambush.

She was flying solo and planned to keep it that way.

Any connection to the Marseaux family was priority one.

Nathan Drake’s cold body just became a hot topic.

* * *

Warden McLaughlin hung up his phone, not believing how bad some peoples luck ran. Given what he did for a living, he was certainly no bleeding heart, but he’d wanted to do more than babysit convicts when he’d decided on a career in the penal system. The more inmates he could rehabilitate for release, the better for everyone, since a chunk of the prison population was going to be released to live among the innocent at some point. Turning these prisoners around was the only hope society had.

The inmate leaving today was a suitable candidate to integrate back into society with little problem.

Until now. Damn.

Mattered not. At this point McLaughlin couldn’t change what he’d worked so hard to put into motion for the guy. Particularly since he honestly believed this con wouldn’t return or be a threat to anyone else.

At least that’s what he’d thought all the way up until that phone call. Now…

Yeah, Jamie Drake would probably be back, and for a much longer stay next time.

His desk intercom buzzed. He pushed the button. "Yes?"

"Drake is ready to be released, sir."

McLaughlin let out a tired sigh of resignation. "Be right there." Stealing himself for what he had to tell this unlucky bastard, he got up and left his office to set the con free.

When he reached Drake, the guards had the beefy guy in cuffs and leg chains. A final reminder of where Drake had been for two years, but one that would only add insult to the news he had to give him.

Life was bad enough for Drake and would only get worse in a few minutes. Humiliating him further right now was just plain dangerous. McLaughlin jerked his chin toward the officer beside the con. "Remove the cuff and chains."

The officer blinked in question at the unorthodox order, then did as instructed. McLaughlin studied his soon-to-be ex-con for any sign of appreciation and found none in Drake’s granite expression.

Then again, any other reaction would have surprised him.

"I’ll walk out to the road with you." McLaughlin turned to where another of his guards opened the door for him.