“What was I thinking?” she demanded. “I was doing my job! I was—”
“Your job? You weren’t armed; you had nothing to use against those two thugs. You—”
“Gee, and to think I was going to say thank you,” Jordan said sarcastically. “I was going to ask how the hell you managed to find us.”
He didn’t get a chance to answer because they were suddenly interrupted by another voice, an excited voice.
But one that didn’t belong to the living.
“I tripped him! I did it! I managed to trip him!”
It was the ghost of one Sergeant Alfred Parker—“Alfie,” as he was known—a man killed in the line of duty, still looking to find the lost victim of the criminal enterprise that had taken his life.
Patrick Law looked at Jordan and answered her question. “Alfie. That’s how I managed to be here. You told him about what you were doing. He was afraid you might wind up in a bad position, trying to blend in with Valley girls.”
“They aren’t Valley girls,” she said dryly. “They’re from Northeastern Ivy League schools.”
“I was watching,” Alfie said. “I told you I’d be playing my part. I brought Patrick with me to the hotel. We followed as fast as we dared, and Patrick called in for help.”
“Thank you!” Jordan said sincerely to Alfie.
“You’ve been trying to help me,” Alfie said quietly. “So have Patrick and his sisters, Megan and Colleen. And Mark and Ragnar—Red and Hugo, of course. And Jackson.”
Colleen, Mark, and Ragnar were part of the Krewe, as were Red and Hugo, though they were K-9 members.
Patrick, Colleen, and Megan were triplets. Megan had gotten involved with the Krewe when she was working for them as a consultant and was now engaged to Ragnar. But she was also an editor; and while she was ready to help if needed, she liked her work and managed to keep the job she loved via telecommuting and the occasional jaunt up to NYC a few times a month.
Jordan had liked both Colleen and Megan. She had even liked Patrick.
But while they had been part of the team following her GPS signal on the previous case, Ragnar had been the one to burst through the back as she had been placed in a coffin. She’d been awake and aware and ready to pull her weapon because of Megan’s quick moves at the bar from which she had been taken. Everything about that plan had worked.
And Patrick hadn’t been a jerk that day.
Maybe this wouldn’t feel so bad if she wasn’t still reeling from the breakup she’d gone through soon after. Because, apparently, girls just shouldn’t involve themselves in danger.
Alfie was shaking his head.
“All these criminal enterprises... I’m telling you, there is a mastermind behind it all. And I can’t help but think we’re looking to solve an old crime, that when I died and the troops went in, they missed the head of the snake. When you told me you were working undercover, well...I said I intended to help you. And being a ghost—with less than 1 percent of 1 percent of the world population able to see me—I had to follow. And did you see that? The fool couldn’t see me, but I could trip him! The power of the mind—or the soul—is amazing!”
“Thank you,” Jordan said again. “Thank you so much, Alfie. And bravo on managing to trip the man.”
“No. No,” he said, shaking his head strenuously. “Thank you,” he told her. “You guys believe in me. And I believe every case your Krewe solves brings us one step closer to finally ending a reign of terror.”
“We haven’t really helped you yet,” Jordan said. “We haven’t...found Susie.”
“I want to believe she is out there, somewhere, living happily under another name, maybe in the Southwest,” Artie said. “I keep believing.” He shook his head suddenly. “But this...this setup is almost the same as it was the night I was killed. There was a man, some kind of leader—called John Smith by everyone—who was never found. I believe he moved on. Maybe somewhere else—maybe right here, with this being part of his new conglomerate. And for what it’s worth,” Alfie added dryly, “I don’t think the guy’s real name is John Smith. Whoever he is, he scares the hell out of his people. They would rather be shot down than captured.”
“Some people can strike that kind of fear into others,” Patrick said. “Then again, there is always someone who will crack. Our survival instinct is strong. But when a man or woman has a family and their children might be threatened, yeah. In most cases, maternal and paternal instincts can put a check on the innate desire to survive.”
Jackson Crow came out of the building, heading toward them. “Alfie, thank you, my friend. Patrick, you’re deputized. You know the routine. The place is a maze. We have dozens of officers and agents, but it’s something of a prison with a lot of winding corridors and plenty of rooms with cages. Most of the captors are scurrying, but we need to avoid them killing their victims as they go. SWAT has the front entrances covered into the surrounding area. There’s a big park just down the way, and if we lose people there, well, we need all hands on deck.”
“Jackson, I need to get in there,” Jordan said, her words passionate and her concern very real.
“Of course. You need to be suited up with a weapon and a vest,” he said. “I’ve got something in the back of the SUV. Follow me.”
“I’ll consider myself deputized and join the troops,” Patrick said. He turned, drew his weapon, and headed for the building.
“Be careful! The last time there was a case like this...” Jackson began. He paused, wincing. Alfie was still with them, and the last time there was a case like this, Alfie had been killed. The Krewe hadn’t been on the case then—other FBI teams had been involved—but they knew about it. They knew not just because of the extensive records, but because of Alfie.
“I’m going in, too. Not much they can do to me anymore,” Alfie said, shrugging. “But I’m still damned good at watching a partner’s back. Well, you know. When the partner has a Krewe talent, that is. What the hell—I’m going with Patrick!”
He hurried after Patrick Law.
“Jordan, come on,” Jackson said.
She followed him to the back of the SUV.
“You don’t happen to have any extra clothing as well, do you?” she asked.
“Oddly enough, I do. Angela always keeps workout clothes in both cars. We both take whatever free half hour we can find here and there to go to the gym,” he said.
“I don’t know how you two do it,” Jordan muttered. “Both in high-powered, twenty-four-seven positions, and parents to two kids.”