Eternal (Shadow Falls: After Dark #2)(23)

She nodded. “Are you sure I can’t come? I could start going over the files you have on the two girls named Natasha.”

Burnett scowled at her. “Della, I’m almost certain you’re going to be working this case, and that Chase will be your partner, but you need to deal with losing your cousin for at least a day. You need rebound time.”

“I’ve dealt with it for almost a month now,” she said. “This…” She waved to the grave, “This was my closure.”

His lips tightened in frustration like they always did when she argued with him. Yet, she knew he couldn’t dispute her logic. The fact that her emotions had no logic was her own secret. She had a feeling she’d be rebounding over Chan’s death for a long time to come.

“I can understand that, but you still can’t go tonight. I don’t have clearance to bring you on the case. Go see Steve, and then get some rest. Be ready to start on this tomorrow.”

He took off. Della moved back to Chan’s gravesite. She dropped back down on the cold earth and just sat there, curled up in a ball, trying to emotionally come to terms with her most pressing problems.

Chan’s death.

Natasha and Liam.

Steve and Chase.

The stars and moon slowly faded. A tiny slice of sun chased the night away, but even with the promise of a new day, a sense of isolation filled her. She sat extra still, surrounded by gravestones. Alone.

The chill came back and she had to amend her last thought. Maybe she wasn’t really alone. She looked around. She didn’t see anyone. But she felt someone. Goose bumps spidered down her arms and spine.

“Do I know you?” Her words seemed to be swallowed by the predawn gray. She stared back at Chan’s grave. The sun peeked a little higher above the eastern horizon, and stripes of bright pink and purple appeared.

She watched the ball of orange as it slowly inched up into the sky, drowning out the sunrise colors, but bringing dusty light and some white clouds that swayed in the blue sky. She tried to ignore the chill. A chill that felt haunted.

Her gaze locked on the sky as the cold around her increased and the clouds began to form shapes. Shapes that looked almost like three people posing for a …

Remembering the picture, she pulled it out and studied it again. When she looked up to compare the crazy cloud formation, it was gone. She stared again at the image, then turned it over. There, scribbled in light pencil, so light she’d missed it earlier, were three names. Chan, Miao—who was Chan’s mother—and …

“Damn.” Her voice seemed small in the big haunted place.

Natasha.

Chan knew Natasha? Was it the same Natasha? But what the hell was the connection?

Standing, she walked over to Chan’s grave. She stared at the tombstone, the light breeze sending the yellow flowers dancing in front of the engraving.

“Who is Natasha? What’s her last name?” She didn’t know who she was talking to, Chan or the ghost from earlier—the one who spoke in a feminine voice. But somebody had better answer her. And fast.

“It’s either Natasha Brian or Natasha Owen,” a voice spoke behind her just as she heard the sound of someone’s feet hitting the ground.

Chapter Eleven

It only took a flicker of a second for the male voice to become familiar and for his scent to find its way into Della’s memory bank.

She turned and faced Chase.

In the silence of a day that hadn’t fully woken up, they stared at each other. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, sounding and looking soulful, perhaps apologetic.

She guessed his expression and tone was about Chan. Like being hit with a switch, her resentment at him for not trying hard enough to save her cousin resurfaced. Then, as if the switch was suddenly reset, she found herself questioning the justice of those sentiments.

She recalled with clarity how much pain she’d endured at the second turn, and how Chase had endured it with her, just to offer her a better chance of survival. Then she recalled him telling her over and over again that he didn’t believe Chan would have survived, even with his help. Would she have endured that for someone, someone she hardly knew, if she didn’t think he would live? And knowingly let another innocent person die, someone she thought had a better chance?

She took in a sobering breath, pushed those feeling aside, and decided she would come back to think about that later.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“I just got off the phone with Burnett.” He dropped one hand into his jeans pocket.

It’s either Natasha Brian or Natasha Owen. His earlier words tiptoed across her mind. Unfortunately, only first names were written on the back of her picture. “So, it was you that broke into the FRU storage unit?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want to waste any more time.”

“If they find out it was you, they won’t work with you or the council, or let you work with me on this.”

He frowned. “They won’t find out. I covered my tracks. And don’t think Burnett didn’t already chew my ass out for it.” He took a step closer.

In the golden hue of morning sunlight, his eyes looked crystal green. He kept his one hand in his pocket, making one shoulder lift slightly higher than the other.

Something about his posture looked less certain than before, slightly vulnerable. And the way he studied her made her wonder if it was because of her, perhaps because of what she’d said to him earlier.