Running Blind (12 page)

“I'm sure he has other things to do.”

“Actually, I don't.”

“Great. I'll see you both tomorrow.” John walked out the door and disappeared around the corner of the house.

“I'd better go, too.” Nikolai stood in the doorway, his dark eyes skimming over Jenna's face, touching her cheeks, her jaw, her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Is there a door into the main house from inside the guest suite?”

“Yes.”

“And there's a lock on that door?”

“A lock and a bolt. Why?”

“You've got the bolt pulled?”

“No. I didn't see any need.”

“How about you humor me and go ahead and do it?”

“Sure.” She crossed the room, walked down a short hall and locked the door that led into the main house.

“Not very sturdy.” Nikolai examined the lock and the bolt, his arm brushing Jenna's as he unlocked the door and then locked it again. “And I suppose that John and his family have a key to get in here.”

“I'd imagine so.”

“I'm not sure I like this, Jenna. Actually, I'm sure I don't like it.”

“That I'm staying here or that I don't have the only key to the lock?”

“Neither makes me happy.”

“The only people in the house are John and his family, and I can't see any of them invading my privacy.”

“John was wandering around outside your place at four in the morning. Doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“He said he saw your car out front and came to investigate.”

“If he wanted to investigate, he could have knocked on this door and checked on you without ever having to leave the house.”

“He probably wasn't thinking straight.”

“Maybe not.”

“You don't like him very much, do you?”

“How I feel about him isn't important. What's important is making sure you're safe here.”

“I'm as safe as I'd be anywhere else.”

“You'd be safer at my place. Why don't you come back to the apartment with me? You can use my room, and I'll sleep on the couch.” He sounded serious, and Jenna could almost
imagine going along with his plan. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd be safe there. No doubt that Nikolai would do whatever it took to protect her. Unfortunately, staying at his place when she could barely look him in the eyes without blushing didn't seem like the wisest plan.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

You're a man and I'm a woman, and I'm not sure that spending the night in the same apartment with you is safe for my heart.

“What?”

“I just don't.”

He searched her face as if he could find another answer there.

Finally, he nodded and took a step away. “Keep the doors locked.”

“I will.”

“And call me if anything comes up.”

“It won't.”

“I'll be back in a few hours. Try to get some sleep.” His knuckles brushed her cheek, leaving a trail of fire before falling away.

Breathless, Jenna stepped back, cool air bathing her cheeks as Nikolai walked outside. “Thanks for coming by, Nikolai. It really meant a lot to me.”

“Any time.” He smiled, leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Now, lock the door and get in bed.”

She nodded, her throat tight with a million unspoken words. She wanted to tell him that he'd crossed a line. That kissing her forehead just wasn't something he should have done, but the warmth of his lips lingered on her skin, and she could only close the door and turn the lock.

She flicked off the light and gingerly made her way to the sofa. The medicine she'd taken was beginning to work, the harsh stabbing pain easing to a dull ache. She pulled the
comforter over her shoulders, lying down on stiff cushions and closing her eyes.

A few hours of sleep. Both John and Nikolai seemed to think that would solve her woes. They were wrong, of course. Nothing was going to change what had happened. Nothing could ease her sorrow at having lost her best friend.

“Lord, I know You have a reason and purpose for everything, but I don't understand why You allowed Magdalena to be killed. Please, help me find the truth about her death. Help me prove that she really was a wonderful and upright woman.” She prayed silently, knowing that God would answer in His own way and His own time. That had been one of the most difficult lessons she'd learned as a Christian. God moved as He would, and though He always answered prayers, those answers were not always what Jenna wanted or expected.

She sighed, punching at the throw pillow, flattening it out to try to ease the last vestiges of her headache. She should get up and go into the bedroom, but her muscles were leaden, her eyes heavy. She closed them, letting the darkness take her.

N
ikolai glanced at Romero's house as he climbed into the GTO, eyeing the second-story windows, wondering if John's rooms were there. Romero had said he'd seen Nikolai's car and had been worried about Jenna's safety. Nikolai wasn't buying that story.

There was something off about the guy. Something that Nikolai couldn't quite put his finger on. He started the engine, his headlights flashing on a sedan parked at the curb several houses away.

It hadn't been there when he'd arrived and looked similar to the car John had driven to the airport. Curious, he got out of the car and walked to the vehicle. A BMW. All shiny chrome and sleek style. Nikolai placed his hand on the hood and wasn't surprised to find it warm. Someone had parked the car there recently, and he had a feeling he knew who it was.

He jotted the license plate number on a scrap of paper and glanced at his watch. It was early, but the sun would be rising in New York. He suspected that Skylar Grady would be awake with the dawn. Though he'd never met the Information Unlimited employee in person, he'd had several phone conversations with her and had found her both enthusiastic and industrious.

He dialed her number, smiling as Skylar answered on the first ring.

“Skylar, here. What's up?”

“Hey, it's Nikolai.”

“Of course it is. Your name is on my caller ID, and that accent is unmistakable. So, I'll ask again. What's up?”

“I'm on a case, and I need some help.”

“Cool. I'm all ears.”

“I have two names for you. The first is someone who lived in upstate New York during her childhood, so she may be the easiest to track.”

“Hold on. Let me grab a pen.” The sound of drawers opening and papers rustling filled the phone. “Okay. I'm ready.”

“Magdalena Romero. Maiden name, Santiago.” He offered the information he'd gleaned from his earlier computer search. “Jenna's friend?”

“You know her?”

There was a brief pause, and then, “Come on, Jansen. Do you think I'm that out of the loop? Kane has kept me updated on what's been going on. So, what do you want to know?”

“What she was like in high school. What her friends think about her now.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“I need information on her husband, too. The name is John Romero.”

“You think he had something to do with Magdalena's death?”

“I think that something isn't right in Houston, and I plan to find out what it is.”

“The way I hear it, Magdalena had some serious problems. Drugs were found in her house and in the bags she carried to Mexico. Have you checked into that?”

“The DEA has been investigating.”

“And?”

“It sounds like they're convinced that Magdalena was trafficking money and drugs in and out of the country during her trips to Mexico.”

“It's not inconceivable. She was a doctor carrying medical
equipment across the border. I doubt the border patrol checked every supply crate. I doubt they'd have checked much of anything she was bringing in. She'd have had an easy time transporting drugs and cash.”

“You may be right. The DEA may be right. But Jenna is convinced otherwise, and she's asked me to prove her friend's innocence.”

“That's a tall order, Nik.”

“Yeah, I know. It doesn't help that the police would be happy to pin the label ‘drug trafficker' on Magdalena's gravestone and call it a day.”

“Well, you know what they say. If it looks like a skunk and smells like a skunk, it probably
is
a skunk.”

“Unless it's a black-and-white cat that was sprayed by a skunk.”

“You mean that you think Magdalena was set up?”

“I don't have enough facts to make the call one way or another.”

“And the way I hear it, you're playing bodyguard, which is probably limiting your research time. No worries, though. I'll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, Grady.”

“No problem.” She hung up without saying goodbye. Typical Skylar fashion.

If it looks like a skunk and smells like a skunk…

Skylar's words echoed through his mind as he made the short drive back to his apartment. He'd always been a good judge of character. It was a survival technique he'd learned at a young age and one that had served him well as an adult. People could only hide their true nature for so long. In the end, who they were shone through in what they valued, how they spoke about the people they loved and how they handled adversity.

So far, John Romero wasn't scoring high in any of those areas.

Which meant what?

That the guy was materialistic and self-centered. That he lacked loyalty and compassion. Those things didn't make him a criminal.

But Nikolai still had a bad feeling about the guy.

It edged out any sympathy he had for the loss John had suffered. If he'd truly loved his wife, wouldn't he be shouting her innocence to the world?

Jenna certainly was.

As a matter of fact, she'd been so angered by John's lack of loyalty that Nikolai had wondered if she were going to let him have more than a piece of her mind. If she'd been physically up to the fight, Nikolai would have let the debate rage on. Truth be told, he wouldn't have minded seeing Jenna clobber her arrogant host.

But she
hadn't
been up to it.

If John were any kind of man, he would have seen that and backed off. Instead, he'd argued his point with no concern for Jenna's pale and shaken appearance. It had taken all Nikolai's self-control to keep from doing what he'd wanted to. Taking John out back and beating some sense into him would have felt good, but it wouldn't have accomplished anything except maybe earning him a room in the local jail.

He got out of his car and walked across the parking lot, limping slightly as he made his way up three flights of stairs to his apartment. His bad leg ached from overuse, but he'd rather feel pain than feel nothing. Since he'd nearly lost his foot, that had been a real possibility.

He'd left the curtains open in the living room of his apartment, and gray-blue light spilled in through the sliding-glass door as he walked into the one-bedroom loft. Outside, fingers of gold streaked the horizon, and Nikolai stepped out onto the small terrace, inhaling moist, early-morning air.

He dropped into the vinyl chair and grabbed his Bible from the small glass table beside it. When he was younger and the Jansens' example of faith-filled living had seemed superficial, Nikolai had thought time spent praying and reading the Bible
was a waste. The Bible the Jansens presented to him on the day his adoption was finalized had seemed like an inconsequential gift, and he'd shoved it in a drawer and forgotten about it.

Somehow, it had found its way into his things when he'd packed and reported for duty at Marine boot camp. Somehow it had made its way around the world and into every barracks and battlefield. Palm-sized and easy to carry, it had been in his hands more and more as he faced enemy fire and his own mortality.

It had taken a long time, but Nikolai finally understood the example that the Jansens had set. He finally understood the value of taking time out of the day to read God's word and to pray. It was a habit now, and one that often led to clearer thinking and sharper focus.

He opened the Bible, tried to clear his mind, but his thoughts spiraled back to the Romero house. To Jenna leaning against the sofa, her skin as pale and smooth as alabaster, her eyes shadowed with grief and pain and loss. They were things Nikolai understood only too well, and he had wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that, in time, things would be better.

Concentrating seemed impossible, and he closed his eyes, praying instead. For Jenna and for her friend's family. For himself, that he would find the answers Jenna needed to move forward. He tried to pray for John, as well, but the words fell flat. His heart wasn't in it.

Nikolai scowled, pulling out the scrap of paper he'd written the license plate number on. He had a friend at the DMV who might be willing to access information about the owner of the BMW. If the owner was John, Nikolai would have a few more questions for the man when they met later that afternoon.

In the meantime, he needed to let Kane know what was going on. He dialed the number quickly, not caring that it was still too early to call.

“What's wrong?” Kane's voice was gritty with sleep and filled with a mix of alarm and annoyance.

“You know your sister is staying at the Romero place, right?”

“She called me last night and told me that was plan. Is there a reason why you're calling me in the wee hours of the morning to tell me about it?”

“I don't like the guy.”

“Join the crowd. I'm not too fond of him, either. He's slime.”

“Did you tell Jenna that?”

“What would be the point? Romero isn't going to ruin her in a day's time. Besides, his parents and son are in the house. It's not like they're alone together.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“No? Then what's the problem?”

“There's something not right about the guy.”

“In what way?”

“He seems way too eager to admit his wife was working with the Mexican Panthers.”

“Look, I'm with you in not liking the guy, but as far as the DEA has been able to ascertain, Magdalena was involved in drug trafficking. They've found plenty of evidence pointing to that, and I don't fault Romero for believing it.”

“You've spoken to someone with the DEA?”

“Yeah. They've been digging into the family's finances. John has his own bank accounts and savings plans. There's nothing there that doesn't line up with his salary, and the DEA has no reason to believe he's taking payoffs from the Panthers.”

“Romero is a defense attorney. He knows how criminals get away with crimes. I'm sure he knows how to hide financial problems if he needs to, and I'm confident he knows exactly how to murder someone and make it look like a random crime.”

“Except, Magdalena's death didn't look random. She was specifically targeted by the Panthers. If Romero wanted his
wife dead, he could have come up with a lot less troublesome ways to do it.”

“You've got a point.”

“I should. I've been thinking about it for the better part of two days.”

“And you're still comfortable with Jenna staying at the Romero place?”

“It's not my choice one way or another. It's Jenna's decision. But, for the record, I'd say the guy is slime. That doesn't mean he's a criminal.”

“It doesn't mean he isn't, either.”

“I'm aware of that, too. I want to come back down there, but Maggie is days away from delivering the baby. I need to be here for her and there for Jen, and I'm going crazy worrying about both of them. I'm hoping I can count on you to take the lead on this and make sure Jenna stays safe.”

“You know you can. I don't back down from a job once I take it.”

“That's why I hired you. So, do me a favor.”

“What's that?”

“Get my sister on that plane tomorrow. I won't be happy until she's safe in Washington.”

“Will do.” Nikolai hung up, no happier than he'd been before he'd called his employer. He trusted Kane's insight but wasn't sure he was right about John Romero.

He glanced at his watch. It was still early. Too early to call the DMV. Too early to call friends and coworkers of the Romeros.

But maybe it wasn't too early to go back to John's house.

It was closing in on six. By the time Nikolai took a shower and made the fifteen-minute drive, he'd be less than two hours early for his breakfast appointment with Jenna.

The way Nikolai saw it, two hours early was just about the right time to show up.