In Destiny's Shadow

She paused at the foot of the bed to look at him. Some of the antagonism eased from her expression. “Why?”

“Because my friend wouldn’t tell them where to find my sisters and me.” He moved toward her and reached for her bag. “Here. I’ll carry that for you.”

She curled her fingers around the strap. “No, thanks.”

“You still don’t trust me?”

“No, but if Titan hurt your friend and is threatening your family, I can understand why you would want to see him brought to justice.”

Anthony didn’t respond. If she ever discovered what he really planned to do with the bastard, she would be even less inclined to trust him. He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. “The five minutes are up. Time to go.”

Melina gave the room a final survey, then moved to join him. She put her free hand on his arm. “Why would Titan be after your family?”

“Where is Titan hiding?”

She hesitated briefly, her lips thinning, then sighed and gave a crisp nod. “All right. If it turns out you’re telling the truth, we might be able to make a deal.”

He looked at where her fingers rested against his jacket sleeve. Her nails were trimmed short and bare of polish, her grip firm, yet there was a delicate femininity in the shape of her hand. Her touch couldn’t penetrate the leather, but he sensed it just the same. “What kind of deal, Melina?”

“You might have information about Titan that I could use.”

“And in return?”

“In return for an interview, I promise to call you before I break the story.” She patted his arm. “Aside from the FBI, you’ll be the first one to know where he is.”

It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a start. He took her hand. The contact teased through his palm and raised the hair on his arm. At her intake of breath, he lifted his gaze. Her lips seemed closer to his than before. Had she swayed toward him? Had she felt it, too?

Anthony released his grip and forced himself to look away. He knew what he wanted. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t this.

Melina Becker was a means to an end, that was all. Anthony didn’t have the time or the right to indulge his cravings with her. He had to control this connection between them. He had no choice.

For Anthony’s destiny had been determined twenty-eight years ago. He had been three years old when he’d watched Titan commit his first murder.

Back then, Titan had called himself Benedict Payne.

And back then, Anthony had called him father.

Chapter 2

“I have a new lead, Neil.” Melina pushed down on the handle of her hotel room door with one hand while she held her cell phone to her ear with the other. She swung open the door, snatched up the Santa Fe Examiner that lay on the threshold and bumped the door closed with her foot. “It’s going to take some more time to check it out.”

“How much more time, Melina?”

Tucking the newspaper under her phone arm, she straightened her sweater as she walked back to the bed. It was a relatively long walk. The proportions of the rooms in the Pecos Lodge were far more generous than those at the Grand Inn. They were more distinctive, too. The Pecos had a Southwestern flavor: red and black Navajo-style patterns brightened the bedspread and curtains, warm varnished pine planks made up the floor, and the window was set into a thick plastered arch. It was nice, but she knew she wouldn’t linger. She seldom did. “I’m interviewing him this morning, so I need another day. Maybe two.”

“That’s what you said last week.”

“I know, but this is promising, Neil. No one else is on it.” She laid the paper flat on the bed and scanned the headlines.

“Maybe no one else is on it because there’s nothing to be on. Titan is just another drug dealer. He’s news, but not big news.”

She turned the pages and continued to skim the articles as she squatted down to grope beside the bed for her boots. “We’ve had this discussion before, Neil. Titan has a bigger agenda, I’m certain of it.”

“What happened to the lead you were chasing—the thief you interviewed last year? What was the guy’s name? Pablo? Paco?”

The newsprint blurred. Melina left her boots on the floor and sat on the edge of the mattress. “His name was Fredo. He’s dead.”

“What? How?”

“Titan had him killed. I saw…” She breathed in slowly through her nose, trying to push her horror away so she could recall the events objectively. Almost six hours had passed, yet she still felt like throwing up when she remembered the sound of the van running over Fredo’s body. She brushed the folds of her skirt. She had thrown out the one she’d worn last night. “I was there. He was shot. The people who did it are dead, too.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Did you get pictures?”

“No, Neil. I did not get pictures.”

“You don’t need to shout.”

She did some more nose-breathing, striving for calm. Neil Tremblay wasn’t as insensitive as he sounded. He was just doing his job as her editor. She switched her phone to her other ear. “Sorry.”

“Did you get a statement from the police at the scene? Are they finally admitting it was Titan?”

“I didn’t wait for the police. There was too much going on at the time. Afterward I called in a tip anonymously.” She looked at the paper. “So far there’s nothing about it in the local news. It’s probably too early. I’ll follow up on Fredo’s murder and on what I learned from him when I finish this interview with my new lead.”

There was a silence. “You should have been more forthcoming with the police, Melina,” he said. “You still have nothing solid to run.”

Neil was using his reasonable voice, the one he adopted when he was about to say something she didn’t like. She pushed herself off the bed and paced as far as the window. She fingered the geometric pattern at the hem of the curtain. “We’ve discussed this before, too, Neil. I want to hold off running anything until I can cover Titan’s arrest. My contact at the FBI has been ducking my calls, so I’m sure they’re closing in. I want to be there when they do.”

“I admire your determination, but you have to understand my position. I’ve given you all the leeway I can and still have nothing to show for it.”

“This new lead could pay off big,” she began.

“That’s what you said when you flew to North Carolina in September, and again when you flew to Texas last month. Nothing came of those leads, either. It makes me wonder whether you’re using this story as an excuse to keep traveling.”

“Neil—”

“If it was only up to me, I’d give you carte blanche, you know that. But I have to answer to the board and I can’t continue to justify your expenses.”

“Are you cutting me off?”

“Don’t put it so harshly, Melina. This is for your own good. It’s time to reassess our priorities. We should direct our energy to more worthwhile pursuits.”

“Neil, this is worthwhile. I have the inside track with a friend of one of Titan’s victims.”

“Great. Write it up as a human interest piece and we can run it in the Sunday supplement.”