Embrace the Night (9 page)

“I don't have any idea what it says, but I am nearly done with the containment potion.” Marcelo leaned back in his chair. “I'll let Junjie get a closer look at it, since this is outside my area of expertise.”

Silence fell in the room for a moment, and then Junjie put the glass down. Producing a small notepad and a pen from another pocket on his pants, he flipped the pad open to a blank page and began jotting some notes.

Watching Junjie, she was curious about what he'd discovered. “What can you tell us so far, Agent Yu?”

“Well, Lieutenant, the code refers to an M. Lemon. I'm ninety-nine percent sure that's a reference to the Meadowlark Lemon uniform that was taken a short while ago. The next thing mentioned is V. Dare, but I'm not familiar with that.”

John slapped the table. “North Carolina history 101. That has to be Virginia Dare.”

Marcelo shrugged. “Who's that?”

“I'll tell you, amico,” John continued. “Virginia Dare was the first English child to be born on American soil back in 1587, and she was born in a settlement on Roanoke Island.”

Junjie looked impressed. “Sorry, dude. I'm not versed in North Carolina History. I'm from Shanghai.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “What does the museum have of hers?”

“Nothing,” John insisted. “But there's a very rare painting depicting her birth in the collection. It's not on display right now, so it's in the museum's basement storage area.”

“Junjie, can you tell us anything else?” She sat forward, eager to hear his next words.

“There's a series of numbers that may represent latitude and longitude, and I think there's a date here.” He jotted a few more things on his pad, then closed it. “Give me tonight, a couple of days tops, to look at this, and I think I can tell you where the drop off point is for the merchandise that's being stolen.”

She snapped her fingertips. “That would be fantastic. This is just the break we need.”

“If we can find out where they are taking these items,” Marcelo added, raking a hand through his dark hair, “we can intercept them, and find out who they are.”

John, looking pleased with himself, nodded his agreement. “I wonder if we have time to stop them from getting the painting.”

Seeing the twinkle in his deep brown eyes, she hated to disagree with him. “That's possible, but in this case, I agree with Marcelo It will be more beneficial overall if we can find out where the stolen items are going.” She saw the twinkle fade a bit, and kept her tone upbeat. “Thanks to you, John, we could even meet their contact. This could expose a much larger operation.”

He smiled, as if he were buoyed by her praise. “Well, thank you, Lieutenant.” With a sparkle of mischief in his gaze, he leaned in and said, “I aim to please.”

A shiver of desire ran from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine. The man was entirely too distracting for his own good. She clasped her hands together and stood. “ Junjie, take forty-eight hours and tell us everything you can about that piece of paper. Marcelo, get that containment spell done. We may need it sooner than we thought.”
Both men nodded their understanding of her instructions.

“You gentlemen are free to go.” She struggled to keep her eyes on them, instead of John. “I'll see you back here in two days.”

After they'd gathered their belongings and left the room, she found herself alone with John for the first time since their...encounter. She drew in a deep breath as he moved closer, coming behind her. As his strong arms encircled her waist, her eyes slid closed. She felt like an inexperienced teenager, a bundle of raging hormones begging to be released. What was he doing to her?

In the silence, he whispered, “What are you doing tonight, Tatiana?”

His warm breath caressing her neck, she tried to fight the trembling that began to overtake her. In a voice just as quiet as his, she answered, “Hopefully, you.”

His deep throaty chuckle filled her ear, and before she knew it he was turning her to face him. Looking down into her eyes, he remarked, “You are awfully forward, Lieutenant.”

“With a man like you, a girl has to be able to hold her own,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Now, what do you say we get out of here before we set off the sprinklers.”

He kissed her then, a fleeting pass of his lips against hers. But it held the promise of pleasure to come. When he pulled back, she sighed.

“I think that would be a smart move.” Pulling her along by the hand, he led her down the hallway, out the door, and into the chilly Carolina night.

CHAPTER 9

John smiled inwardly as he drove his vehicle down Highway 70 toward Brier Creek. Tatiana reclined in the passenger seat next to him, gazing out the window as the city lights whizzed by. They'd taken some time to drop her car off at her house, then he'd convinced her to go out for a bite to eat. He didn't really know why, but before he made love to her again, he had to know more about her.

Entering the shopping center, he parked in front of the Fire Station Subs shop. “Is this okay?”

She nodded. “I love their sandwiches.”

He didn't say it out loud, but he loved that she didn't make demands to be taken to some expensive eatery. He got out, and went around the car to her side to open the door for her. Taking her hand as she stepped out, he guided her toward the door.

As they approached, the door swung open so hard the tail of his trench lifted in the breeze it created.

A woman marched out, head down, nearly bowling them both over.

Tatiana rolled her eyes.

A few steps beyond them, the woman stopped suddenly, and spun around.

His eyes widened.

Beneath the mop of wavy hair was a familiar face, and an unwelcome sight.

Before he could speak, the woman propped her fists on her narrow hips. “John!”

His expression turning grim, he spoke. “Hello, Miranda.” Intending to make this the end of the interaction, he held open the door for Tatiana and guided her inside. He pulled out at chair, and she took a seat at one of the red tables near the front.

Before he could sit down himself, however, Miranda sidled back into the restaurant. She was wearing beige tube dress that nearly disappeared against her skin, and gold jewelry around her thin throat and wrists. Easing her scrawny frame over to his table, she plastered on one of those fake smiles. “Are you avoiding me, John?”

He sighed. “Yes, Miranda, isn't it obvious?”
The girl never could take a hint.

Tatiana stifled a chuckle, and Miranda cut her a displeased look before addressing him again. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your companion?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Why on Earth would I do that, Miranda? You hold no importance in my life, so I won't be making any introductions, thank you.”

Miranda's brow furrowed into a deep scowl. “Oh, so that's how it is.” She slapped her small hand on the table, as if it were supposed to frighten him. Then she turned her venom on Tatiana. “I bet he didn't even tell you about me, did he? If you get involved with him, you're making a mistake.”

Tatiana narrowed her eyes, then tilted her head to the size. “I'll take my chances.”

Miranda looked taken aback, then smacked her lips. Turning quickly, she exited the place in a huff.

When Miranda was gone, Tatiana gave him a strange look. “You dated that hot mess?”

He rested his forehead in his hands. “Don't ask. Let's just say I didn't always have good taste.”

She shook her head. “I can tell. That girl was six kinds of rude.”

He tried to hide his frustration. Of all the times to run into that crazy ass Miranda. He saw her from time to time, because she lived in the Triangle. But to run into her while he was with Tatiana was too damn much. He groaned, and sent up a short prayer that Miranda would be suddenly inspired to move to Saskatchewan. Straightening, he asked, “What do you want? I'll order for you.”

She waved a delicate hand in front of him. “I don't know if I have much appetite after this encounter with your bitter ex girlfriend.”

This was just what he'd dreaded. Loudmouth Miranda had a way of making things difficult for him whenever she was around. “Tatiana, don't worry about her. We only dated for six months, and it was years ago.”

Leaning back in her chair, she looked thoughtful. “How many years ago?”

“It was back in '06, when I started teaching at St. Aug.”

She frowned. “Oh my God, was that chick one of your students?”

That question offended him. “Hell no! She worked in the campus bookstore. Where do you get off thinking I'd sleep with one of my students?”

“So you slept with her.” Her tone was accusatory. Then, she shrugged. “Well, John, when you think about it, I really don't know you all that well, do I?”

He could feel the heat of anger rising into his face. Loosening his blue striped tie, he ground out, “I guess you don't. But that doesn't give you the right to make accusations like that.”

Her eyes hardened, and she slid her chair back. “If it was all so innocent, why didn't you tell me about her?”

“Because we hadn't gotten that far yet!”

“Oh, really, when was that coming around? Don't you think I should have known that before we got physical?”

“Tatiana, neither of us was thinking about talking about anything, let alone past relationships, when we got 'physical'.” He emphasized the word with air quotes.

She appeared to be thinking for a moment, and he thought she might be regaining her ability to reason. But as fast as the angry face faded, it returned. “Take me home, John.”

“Tatiana--”

“I said, take me home.”

He blew out a breath and rose from his seat. If she was going to pout like some angst-ridden teenager, he didn't have the time or the desire to argue with her.

So, he followed her back out to his car, let her in, and started the engine.

As they pulled away, he saw Miranda in his side view mirror. She leaned against the exterior of the building, making a show of filing her nails. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she watched them pull away.

He slapped the steering wheel.
Why in the hell does Miranda have to be so damn crazy?

As he expected, Tatiana ignored him all the way back to her townhouse in Durham. When she got out and slammed the door behind her, he was tempted to peel off. But his upbringing demanded he stay long enough to see her make it safely inside her home. Once she did, he sped away into the night, frustration ruling his mind.

**

Tatiana bent the last flexible roller into place on top of her clients' head. “All right, Mrs. Jenkins. Let's get you under the dryer.”

When she'd led the elderly Mrs. Jenkins to the dryer room, and set her up under the hooded dryer, she stalked back to the station she occupied and plopped down in the styling chair.

“You know, pouting is not going to fix it.”

She turned the chair to her left, and saw Ralph two stations down, curling a teenage girl's hair with a Marcel iron. “Ralph, I don't want to talk about it.”

He laughed, moving to a new section of hair with a smaller barreled iron. “T, who do you think you're fooling? Why else would you be working on a Friday?”

She let her head drop back, groaning. He was right, much to her annoyance. In all the years she'd owned the Tigress, she'd never worked a Friday unless a stylist quit without notice, or some similar disaster happened. With no such excuse for her presence today, even she wondered why she bothered to come in.

“So,” Ralph asked, releasing a perfect spiral curl, “what's the problem?”

She let her eyes slide closed as she recounted the events at the sub shop the night before. “I don't know why I made such a big deal, but something about that girl really rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Jealousy,” Ralph countered sagely. “But you do realize you acted stupid, right?”

She sat up straight, trained a dirty look on her friend. “How could you say that?”

“Come on, T. Y’all have been dating for what, a whole two weeks or so? Did you disclose all your past relationships to him?”