Unfair Advantage

CHAPTER SIXTEEN





Dani sat and petted Buddy while the detectives arranged for a female officer similar in build to herself. When she arrived less than fifteen minutes later, Officer Sikes changed from her uniform into a pair of Dani\'s yoga pants and a Gap tee shirt. Dani went into her bedroom to don the borrowed clothing. It felt incredibly foreign. She\'d never worn a uniform in her life. And seeing herself dressed as a cop took surreal to the next level.



"Isn\'t this impersonating a police officer?" she asked as she walked out into the living room. She had to wear her own shoes. Sikes\' boots ran a size and a half too large. "And won\'t a cop wearing Addidas walkers look suspicious?"



Larkin closed his cell phone, gave the once over in a manner she couldn\'t classify as strictly business. "Only if you take it upon yourself act suspicious. I doubt anyone will notice the sneakers."



Tim spoke to Sikes. "We\'ll be an hour or so at least. The captain\'s cleared you for three. Officer Briggs will ride with your partner."



"Good luck," Sikes replied, sank to the floor to roll Buddy\'s bright red ball. He chased it down the hall, returned it to Dani.



She rolled it. "If he\'s too much trouble, crate him."



Sikes smiled. Her wide set blue eyes, lightly freckled nose and wide mouth created an appearance of youthful innocence. "I love dogs. I\'m sure we\'ll get along fine."



As the three of them walked down the hall, Dani\'s stomach knotted. "This won\'t work," she whispered, halted just at the hall\'s end. From here she could hear crowd control attempting to clear the sidewalk.



Larkin put his hand at the small of her back, propelled her across the far end of the lobby to the service door. "You\'ll be fine."



She didn\'t feel fine. The shock of intense determination that shot from him like lightning threatened to buckle her knees. Noises of people and traffic caused panic to nibble her composure. As they exited the building, she could only concentrate on looking straight ahead.



Larkin\'s car sat parked six blocks away. The minutes stretched so long she wanted to scream. Any second someone would recognize her, yell it to the world. They\'d come running, reaching, grasping. Hundreds of emotional bombshells exploding, destroying. Any second.



Her breath came in ragged uneven drafts by the time they reached the cruiser. She let Tim help her into the back seat. His gentleness acted as a balm. She recovered her balance, focused on the ordeal ahead.



Bravery lasted until the mouth of the alley. When Dani stood there, a detective on either side, her resolve shredded. She couldn\'t see the ghost. Still, his presence stamped the very air with rage and violence. Her body temp seemed to plunge.



"Is he here?\' Tension in Larkin\'s big body added another dimension to the charged atmosphere.



"Somewhere."



To Tim, Larkin said. "Safety sake, use the car to block the alley. We don\'t want some photographer getting this."



Suddenly the choking bitter almond smoke and liquor fumes filled her throat and mouth. She tried to draw breath, coughed. Strong arms supported her as vision tunneled. She sensed the spirit wanted to get at her. Refused to show himself because of her escort. The burns on her wrists stung as if fresh.



By painful degrees she beat back the crippling shortness of breath and dizziness. "He won\'t face me with you here. He knows you\'re police."



"Tough." He made the statement more to the alley than her.



"If you want what he knows, leave."



"Bastard\'s dead. What difference does a cop make?"



The answer occurred in a lightning strike. "All the difference if he doesn\'t realize he\'s dead."



Larkin held her steady as she regained control. "Fuck."



Dani exhaled shakily. It required great effort not to rub her wrists. "Go." A column of what resembled blueish smoke began to form farther down the alley.



"I don\'t want to leave you." Striking tenderness filled his voice.



"It\'s my turn to work." The words surprised Dani. From somewhere deep courage and determination welled. "Let me do my job."



Dani didn\'t meet his gaze. Though she felt it\'s intense weight.



"Yell if you need me." He stepped back. His light footfalls receded.



The hazy formation solidified. In the next instant the apparition stood only feet from her, frightening obsidian eyes glittering within the hood.



Dani fought the urge to bolt. "Do you remember me?"



"You\'re too expensive to be one of Deke\'s strawberries."



The unnatural hissing quality of his voice sent alarm skidding down her nerves. \'Strawberry\' in slang referred to a woman who exchanged sexual favors for drugs. Concentrating on what he\'d said, she struggled to recall what Larkin had told her. Perhaps this ghost thought she might have patronized the man who\'d run the doomed meth lab.



She replied, "I saw you here before." She didn\'t mention the assault.



He advanced in an unnatural rush, like jerky stop action photography. Acrid smoke filled her nose. Dani braced. This time she\'d stay on her feet.



No matter what.



"You a cop?" he demanded. Suffering and rage pulsed. Technicolor assaults on her composure.



"No."



"I saw you with one!"



She flinched at the terrible grating undertones of the shout. It ground upon her bones even more than her ears. "I sent him away."



The spirit faded slightly, returned. He threw back his hood. Dani stifled a gasp. Twisting, writhing tattoos covered his shaved head, snaked down his throat. Their chaotic writhing made her almost dizzy.



The ghost smiled. Only black vacant space resided behind his thin lips. "I\'ll sell you to Deke. Along with the plate number. My big score just got fuckin\' huge." He seemed to shimmer. "Blackmail the suit. Sell him out to my source."



Dani found herself thing of Michael. Innocent in life. Physically unspoiled in the afterward, but painfully wise. Why did ghosts differ so sharply? Good verses evil? Those who knew their fate opposed to those who believed themselves alive? A combination?



Resolve came at a price. Perspiration beaded her upper lip. Odd tingling bubbled up her spine. She knew she\'d channeled one of the victims before. One of the first stops she\'d made with Tim and Larkin. Summoning all her grit, Dani reached out with her mind and stepped into the ghost.



Sergei Chevchenko.



I have to get up. Deke might give me a little more credit. Just enough. I\'ll promise him anything. Wait. Shit. That guy doesn\'t look like the type for a brat. Skin\'s crawling. Still feel the razor sliding over my skull. My tats are crawling. Why\'s he moving so fast? I\'ll write down the number. Nothing to do it with. Fuck. Uh, here. Scratch it on the dumpster. Small. Don\'t let anyone else notice. Is someone following me? Bastards want my score. Tiny numbers. That bitch at the DMV owes me. Maybe this is something.



She felt herself falling. Twisted and braced. Rough pavement and gravel met her palms. For several disorienting seconds she saw flitting foreign images, hangover visions. Then the city returned. Sensation with it. Hands stinging she got to her feet. A nasty reminder of where she\'d traveled lingered. Still, she\'d gone, seen, conquered.







Brand reviewed his account balances. He liked seeing them so swollen. Even with project overhead, living expenses and his personal indulgences, the accounts grew. Money reminded him of fire. Both reigned sovereign. They could destroy or create.



From nowhere came an image of Mayan. Looking up at him, those eyes full of vulnerability and softness.



He hated Julia having the final say with Mayan. More specifically with his use of her. Like it or no, he kept going back to her. Never another except for work. Maybe the time had come to add her to his collection of beautiful things.







Roarke kept glancing in the rear view. She said she was fine. Aside from minor abrasions on her palms, Dani looked fine. Still, he found himself unable to accept. The eight minutes, twenty-two seconds she\'d spent alone in that alley aged him a year. He\'d wanted to run back, catch whatever thing hurt her before and squeeze the supernatural life out of it.



Fielding half-turned in the seat. "I\'m still trippin\'." He\'s leaned up just enough to obstruct the view in the side mirror. Man had a talent. "You fucking hopped into this ghost."



"Sergei Chevchenko," she responded, subdued and somehow strong, "the one who has seen the killer."



Roarke flipped on his blinker, changed lanes. Traffic always slowed to a crawl here. "We\'ll run his name through the computer. More we know about him, the faster we can determine a link."



"The only link is that he saw." Dani\'s response seemed certain. "He was desperate. So he desperately sought something. A score, he called it. The killer to Sergei reeked of a pay day. Especially after the news broke, putting Micheal\'s picture all over the news. Then Sergei decided to play both sides, I think. Have his contact at the DMV run the plate, contact the guy and blackmail him. At the same time, Sergei sold the info to his dealer for a line of credit."



He admired her ability to fill in the gaps between facts with intuitive concrete. "You\'d make a great detective." In the mirror his gaze met hers.



"I am a detective."



Those words stayed with him even until they left Dani and drove Sikes back to the house. Roarke just kept thinking something had changed. Dani no longer seemed the victim.



She was in charge.