Against The Night - Part 19
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Part 19

"Not good news."

"No." A pause on the other end of the line. "You still seein' the little sister?"

Johnnie flicked a glance toward the door, heard Amy in the kitchen talking on her cell phone. "I guess you could say that. We're having supper with Dev and Clive and their wives."

"That so...?" Trace's tone held a note of interest, since it was way out of character for Johnnie to take a woman to meet the men he considered family.

"Don't get your hopes up," he said. "Amy's a great lady but I'd make a lousy husband. Plus she's leaving the end of the summer, sooner if we find out what happened to her sister."

"Too bad. Say h.e.l.lo to the guys and gals."

"Will do."

"If you need anything more, Cantrell's back from Mexico. He's running things here while Maggie and I are in Australia."

"Finally taking that honeymoon you've been planning."

"Well-deserved honeymoon."

Johnnie smiled. "Have a good time. Try to see something besides the inside of a hotel room."

Trace laughed and ended the call. Padding across the room, Johnnie grabbed his jeans off the back of a chair where he'd tossed them last night, dragged them on and headed for the kitchen.

Amy was still on the phone. As he walked into the room, she looked up at him and smiled, and that simple gesture made his chest clamp down. This wasn't good.

She returned her attention to the phone in her hand. "I'm doing fine, Mom, really." She rolled her pretty blue eyes. "We know a lot more now than we did a few weeks ago."

Her mother said something on the other end of the line.

"I'm not giving up, Mom. Not yet."

Amy started nodding. "I'll be careful, Mom, I promise." She signed off and cast him a glance. She looked sleep-rumpled and as satisfied as a lazy cat, and thinking about the times he'd made love to her last night made him want her all over again.

Barefoot and shirtless, he padded toward her. "Your mom, I take it."

She sighed. "We always have the same conversation. She presses me to come home and I tell her I'm staying."

"Maybe she's right."

Her chin shot up. "Not you, too."

Making his way over to the counter, he poured himself a cup of coffee, tasted it and grimaced. "Next time, maybe you could put a little coffee in the coffee."

Her eyebrows went up and he realized he'd said "next time," as if there was going to be one. Something he had refused to contemplate until now.

"Okay, I'll make it stronger...next time."

He didn't reply. Just having a woman in his kitchen the morning after was a novelty. He wished it didn't feel so good having her there.

"Are we still going to dinner tonight?" she asked.

"Game plan's on as far as I know."

"So what do we do today? We've followed every lead and we still don't know much more than when we started. Did you hear from your friend about the flight plan?"

He'd almost been hoping this wouldn't come up. He had even thought about lying. "Trace called this morning. His whiz kid found the flight plan. Ortega's jet flew out of Ensenada, made a stop in L.A. to pick up pa.s.sengers, then headed for Belize."

"Oh, my G.o.d. When?"

"A couple of days after your sister disappeared."

"Do you think...do you think she was on that plane?"

His gut tightened. "I think she could have been." Which meant he had to go to Belize.

And Amy wasn't going with him.

But he wasn't ready to tell her that. "The bad news is, the jet flew south with four people and returned with only three." That was the part he'd been dreading.

Amy's face went pale. She sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. "I have to go down there."

Here we go. "If she left on Ortega's jet, then somebody's got to go down there, but first we need to dig a little deeper, try to find something that will confirm she was on the plane or locate someone in Belize who saw her once she got there. h.e.l.l, she may have been one of the ones who came back. We need more information."

But if he didn't get it soon, he'd go anyway. That he didn't say.

"I'll get on it," he continued. "I know some people who might be able to help us." Like DEA agent Kent Wheeler. Wheeler had been after Ortega for years. He knew as much about the drug lord's movements as any man on earth. He might be able to find out who was on that plane.

And which of them didn't return.

"In the meantime, tonight we're having dinner with friends." He'd promised to help Dev, promised to help Amy. He was still working other cases. He felt like a juggler trying to keep all his plates in the air.

"Would you like me to fix you some breakfast?" Amy asked. "I looked in the fridge. You've got bacon and eggs. I'm a pretty decent cook."

His interest stirred and his stomach rumbled. "You can cook?"

"Hey, I'm from the Midwest. Of course I can cook."

He hesitated, thinking of all the work he had to do downstairs. It must have shown in his face.

"It'll take me a while," Amy said. "Go do whatever it is you need to do. I'll call you when it's ready."

He nodded, flashed her a grateful smile. "Sounds good." As he took off down the hall, the thought occurred, I could get used to having a woman around.

Which wiped the smile right off his face.

No way was that happening. Not now, not anytime in the future. He was just doing the lady a favor. And enjoying great s.e.x with a knockout babe. That was all there was to it.

Johnnie headed for his lower floor office, forcing his mind to focus on work. He needed to find out if Rachael Brewer was on that jet. He needed to find out whether or not she was still alive.

But deep in his gut, he was afraid he already knew the answer.

Eighteen.

When supper was over, Johnnie and the other men-Clive Monroe and Dev Raines-went to the living room of the ultramodern, downtown condo that was Dev and Lark's home when she was in L.A. for work. Clive was big, buff and sandy-haired. Dev was lean and hard, blue-eyed and movie-star handsome, one of the best-looking men Amy had ever seen. He should have looked almost pretty, but instead he just looked tough and masculine and as dangerous as Johnnie.

The men talked business while Amy, Lark and Molly sat at a stainless steel table in the state-of-the-art kitchen drinking wine.

The entire apartment was high-tech and beautifully furnished, though not at all what Amy would choose for herself. She didn't have Lark's flash, or her amazing confidence.

At least when she wasn't onstage.

Amy hid a smile. Johnnie had introduced her to his friends as a friend, a schoolteacher from Michigan who had come to California to search for her missing sister. It was the truth-clearly he would never lie to these people. He just hadn't mentioned the part about her dancing, which he knew would have embarra.s.sed her.

After introductions had been made and each had been poured a gla.s.s of wine, they sat down for dinner in the dining room and enjoyed a delicious catered Italian meal: focaccia bread, linguini, ravioli in cream sauce, misto salad and tiramisu for dessert.

Amy was nervous at first, since it was clear these people were more than just Johnnie's friends. They were his family and they loved him. But Molly, a pet.i.te, curvy redhead who was very pregnant, had put Amy at ease from the moment they had met.

"You two make a great-looking couple," she said. "Johnnie must think a lot of you. He's never brought a woman to meet his friends before."

Amy wondered about that, but made no comment.

Tall and gorgeous, with a stunning figure and crimson streaked, short dark hair, Lark was a little more standoffish. She was reserving her judgment, it was clear, making sure Amy was good enough for Johnnie. Obviously, Lark loved him like a brother and would go to any lengths to protect him.

"Sooo, how long have you two been seeing each other?" Lark asked.

"Not long," Amy said. "We met sort of accidentally. I found out he was a private investigator, but I didn't have enough money to hire him. But Johnnie agreed to help me anyway. He's really been sweet."

A look pa.s.sed between the women.

Maybe sweet wasn't how they saw Johnnie but deep down, Amy knew he really was. And Amy didn't think Lark needed to worry. Whatever Johnnie felt for her had more to do with s.e.x than any sort of long-term commitment. Amy refused to think about what she felt for him.

"So when is your baby due?" she asked Molly.

"It's a boy and he's due next month. With a husband like Clive, it didn't take me long to get pregnant. I mean, he was a Ranger, right?" She grinned. "We all know what that means."

"What?" Amy blurted out before she could stop herself.

Molly grinned. "It means they're all overs.e.xed and highly potent."

Lark laughed and Amy blushed.

They talked about Lark's little girl, Chrissy, who had stayed in Phoenix with her nanny so she wouldn't miss a special friend's birthday party. Somehow the conversation came round to how Dev had helped Lark find the child after the little girl's adoptive parents were killed. Johnnie and Clive had been involved in her rescue, which explained the strong bond the couples felt for each other.

As the evening progressed, Amy began to relax.

"Johnnie must think you're pretty special," Lark said, looking pointedly in Amy's direction. "He's usually kind of a loner, keeps his personal life separate even from his friends."

Amy tried for a nonchalant shrug. "We're...having fun. I have to go back to Michigan the end of the summer, so it isn't going to be a long-term relationship."

There must have been something telling in her face because Lark looked at her with a trace of sympathy. "Sometimes things change," she said softly.

Amy took a sip of her white wine. "Not for Johnnie. Even if things were different, he isn't ready to settle down. I don't think he ever will be."

The other two women exchanged glances. Then both of them smiled knowingly.

Amy had no idea what that meant.

Johnnie settled back against the white sofa, after the guys tossed a mountain of colored throw pillows into a pile on the floor to make room for them to sit. He took a sip of his beer. "So that's all we've got to go on?"

"So far," Dev said. "Chaz came up with three names, guys reported to be in the L.A. area and have the expertise to disable the alarms and steal the cars." Chaz could find out almost anything-as long as you didn't ask him how he did it.

"Stealing luxury cars is a real b.i.t.c.h today," Clive said. "With the GPS systems they've got now the engine can be turned off remotely. Even if the thief gets inside, he can wind up in a car going nowhere."

"True," Johnnie said, "but the satellite folks won't turn off the engine unless they can stop the vehicle without causing an accident."

"So the OnStar people wait till it's safe," Clive argued. "By then, the cops are on the way. Thief still can't get away clean."

"That's the rub," Johnnie said. "They can't steal the car and get away with it unless they disable the GPS without setting off any alarms. And the system's buried so deep in the wiring the thief can't tear it out."

"Which means the only way for them to get the car is to block the signal," Dev said.

"Take some brains for that," Clive said.

Dev took a drink of his wine. "Which brings us back to the three names Chaz came up with-Jack Romano, Reggie Silvers and Sergio Delinsky. Romano worked for General Motors in the auto design division. He was highly thought of-till he decided he could make more money selling GM secrets to their compet.i.tors. Reggie Silvers was jailed for hacking into the DMV. Cops never found out what he planned to do with the info."

"And Delinsky?" Johnnie asked.

"Worked for the Russian mob. Busted for manipulating the betting at the Santa Anita Race Track. All of them have the know-how to pull off something like this and all of them are currently out of jail."

"So how do we figure which one?" Clive asked.

Dev set his winegla.s.s on the gla.s.s coffee table. "Lark's got to get home to Chrissy, but I'll be staying in town awhile, doing my best to dig up the info we need and find out where the cars are being rebuilt. I just wanted to bring you guys up to speed and make sure you'll be able to come in if this gets hairy."

"I'm in," Clive said.

"Me, too. I may have to make a trip out of the country, but if I go, I won't be gone long."

"Amy's sister, right?" Dev said.

Johnnie nodded. "We got a tip she may have been taken to Belize. You must have talked to Ghost." Trace Rawlins knew what was going on with Rachael. Johnnie had left Dev out of the loop, figuring his friend had enough on his plate with a new wife and kid and his auto theft investigation.

"I talked to him." Dev grinned. "Now that I've met your lady, I can see how you got into this so deep."