Page 10 of Night Justice

Reassured they were finally alone, Sam took the next exit. The neighborhood was a tad safer than Gresham, and when he reached a back alley between two buildings, he stopped and turned his engine off.

Orla was still holding onto him, and despite his gear, he could feel her shake. It was cold, and at the speed he’d been going and the danger they’d gone through, he wasn’t surprised she was in that state.

Gently, he unhooked her fingers from his waist and helped her off. Her legs were wobbly, but she soldiered through.

“Are you all right?” Sam knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to know if the adrenaline rush hadn’t masked the pain of an injury.

Apart from the two red flags on her cheeks, she was pale as a ghost, her blue eyes feverish when she finally looked at him. “Can you turn off that Batman voice? It’s creeping me out.”

Sam had absolutely no intention of giving her any clues to his identity. “What did you learn about Phantom.”

At least that got her attention to the point she stopped shaking. The woman was a true reporter, through and through. “How did you know about that?”

“I asked you a question first.”

Her frown deepened. “I’m not giving you squat until you tell me who you are.”

Sam snarled and took a step forward. When she took a step back, he knew his words would get through to her. “Who I am is not important. Stopping Phantom’s distribution and getting rid of the monsters who’ll spread it like a disease over this city is. Now, tell me what you know. Why did you meet with Damon Evans at the El Diablo tonight?”

And there it was, the air of defiance he’d seen in her. “I’m a reporter, not a snitch. If you don’t know how to get information on your own, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that suit.

Anger flared, and he pushed her hard against the brick wall behind her, not to hurt her, but enough to rattle her. Keeping his gloved hand on her sternum to hold her still, he hunched himself until he could look directly into her eyes, even though she couldn’t see his behind his mask.

“How do you think I know about you being assigned this investigation? I know this city, and I have no doubt I’ll find the source. My only objective here is to speed up the process. Phantom will be hitting the streets soon.”

Orla had been struggling in his grasp, but his words stopped her movements. He removed his hand, and she remained in place, deep in thought. “How do you know that?”

She may have asked the question, but when she started pacing, Sam figured she knew he’d never give her the answer. “The police need to be informed.”

“About what? A rumor? And if the information is solid, as soon as they make a move, the target will have changed locations. The rumor is that several labs are being built. I only have to find one, and for that, I need your help.”

Her blond head snapped in his direction. “Stop it? How? Kill them as you killed those two guys at the bar? Or the others in that explosion?”

Sam had no qualms with killing someone if it saved thousands of lives. “If we don’t shut them down completely, they’ll come back. And you don’t want that happening.”

She seemed to consider his words. “Those who intend to spread Phantom on the streets deserve to die in my book, but that’s not how the police will see it. I won’t be part of a hit if that’s what you’re planning.”

He could go harder on her, but he suspected it would only strengthen her position. Instead, he returned to his bike. If she wouldn’t help, he wasn’t going to waste any more time on her, even for her breathtaking face and enticing ass.

“Wait!” He turned slightly to look at her. He could see wheels were turning hard and fast in that smart brain of hers, and he waited for her to speak. “Let’s work together on this. Tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I discover.”

Sam smiled behind his mask at her guts as he got on his bike and started the engine with a roar. “No. I won’t put anyone else in danger.”

Orla took another step. “You’re already working with someone. You were in contact with them, and they helped us escape. I think you need my help with this, and I need you.”

Sam shook his head. He knew he’d be able to get to the bottom of this on his own; he’d done so many times before. The only difference here was the time constraint. If he could get information from her to close this faster, he would. But he wasn’t dumb enough not to realize she had another motive for her sudden generosity. After all, she was a journalist.

“It’s the middle of the night, and you have nothing yet. Damon Evans didn’t have time to tell you anything useful. You have squat, so unless you can miraculously come up with new information, there’s no reason for us to work together.”

The woman gasped, clearly taken aback by this bit of information, but Orla Karlsen wasn’t the kind of person to quit easily. “I’ll get the information. How can I contact you?”

Sam took one last look at her. “You don’t. If you find anything worth my time, I’ll find you.”

Chapter Five

As she watchedthe bike’s taillights disappear, Orla cursed, wanting to punch the brick wall beside her. How long had that wacko been following her? Had he been in the bar before the fight? Or maybe one of his associates? It was another reason to look into the vigilante haunting Chicago. Even if his current quest was one they shared.

Her car was back at the bar, and Orla was stranded in the middle of nowhere. She knew she needed to talk to Evans fast and convince him to help her before time ran out. Too bad she didn’t know where the man lived. But there could be someone who knew.

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