I listened real close and picked up that they were both deeply upset about something. Dread tightened my stomach, and I was sorry I’d taken that last bite of cake. I followed Uncle Joey into Frank’s office. After shutting the door, he sat behind the desk like he owned the place, which I guess he did.
“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting in the chair in front of the desk. His mind had been carefully blank, so I had no idea what had happened.
“Syd got a call from Milo Bilotti,” he began. I picked up his thoughts that he wished Ramos was here, but he could probably fly him in tomorrow.
My eyes widened, and my pulse raced with worry. If he needed Ramos, it had to be bad. “Who’s Milo Bilotti?”
Uncle Joey sighed. “He’s the head of one of the New York mob families, and he wants to meet with me. He didn’t say what he wanted to see me about, but I think it’s easy to conclude that he wants to know what I’m doing here.”
“You think he’s feeling threatened by you?”
“Possibly. Or it could be a lot of things.” He was thinking it could be a power play, and that he might tell Uncle Joey to stay out of his turf, which would most likely come with a threat to Miguel. He’d done his best to keep Miguel off the radar, but if Milo Bilotti had found out Miguel was his son, he wanted to know. “I’d like to know what he’s really up to, so I need you to come with me.”
“Okay.” Yikes. This was bad. “When?”
“Sometime tomorrow. I thought I could set it up for the evening so you can still go on your excursion with Miguel and the family.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t thought of telling Uncle Joey that I was helping the NYPD with their case. Hopefully, it would be over before noon, and that would be the end of it. Still, he should probably know that I wouldn’t be going with the family in the morning.
“Uh… yeah. That will work. I have another commitment in the morning, so I won’t be going with Chris and the kids, but that’s the only time I won’t be around.”
Uncle Joey’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? What kind of commitment?”
There was no getting around it now, but at least I could blame it on Chief Winder. “Uh… the chief asked me if I could help a friend of his from the NYPD with a case while I’m here, so I’m supposed to stop by the 12th Precinct tomorrow morning. It’s not a big deal… they just want to know if I get any premonitions about it. Of course, you know that’s not going to happen, so it shouldn’t be more than just a short stop, in and out.”
A quick glance at his face sent a jolt of fear into my heart. The disbelief in his eyes turned to anger, then outrage. I heard a couple of choice swear words from his mind, then he rubbed his forehead, wondering how in the hell I did it. Couldn’t I ever say no to anyone? This was my vacation. It was bad enough that I helped the police at home, but here?
“Shelby. What have you done?” The disappointment in his voice cut into my heart.
“I know, I know. Chris thought the same thing. I’m not real happy about it either, but… well… I guess I’m a glutton for punishment or something, because I couldn’t turn him down. He made it sound real important—like, I could make a difference, you know? Catch a killer. Solve the case. I mean… I have this ability, so, maybe I’m supposed to use it by helping people out.”
Under the anger, I felt the stirrings of sympathy from Uncle Joey. A few seconds later, his anger dissipated. “Fine. You’re a good person with a good heart. I guess it makes sense that you’d agree to help. I just wish it wasn’t right now.”
“Yeah, me too. Is there anything else going on that you need to tell me? I noticed you had a bodyguard for Miguel.”
“It’s just a precaution. In case anyone gets any ideas. No one’s threatened Miguel, but I didn’t want to take any chances.” He was thinking of Milo Bilotti whose family had started a war with the Manettos back in the day when his grandparents had been shot down and murdered in this very hotel.
That war had not ended well for either the Bilottis or the Manettos. They both lost family members, and the Manettos had been driven out of the business. Now the Bilottis had full control of this little slice of New York, and the last thing he wanted was to renew his association with that lot.
“Oh, yeah. Then a bodyguard makes perfect sense to me. How did Miguel take it?”
“He hates it. But he’s going along with it for my sake.” He caught my gaze. “I’d hoped that Miguel living here wouldn’t be a problem; but now, after getting this phone call from Bilotti, I’m not so sure. I’d hate for something to happen to Miguel because of me. But I’d hate it even more to ask him to give up his career. He was really good tonight. This is what he’s meant to do. So I’m doing my best to make sure he can follow his dream.”
I nodded. “I understand completely. Don’t worry. We’ll find out what’s really going on with the Bilottis. Then you’ll know what to do.”
“Thanks Shelby. I’m glad you’re here. I’ll have Syd set it up tonight so we’ll know what time we’re meeting tomorrow.” He was thinking that his instincts had been spot on, and he was grateful he’d already set his plans in motion. He’d be prepared. Now he just needed Ramos to pull it all together. But if the meeting was late enough tomorrow, it would still work.
He glanced at me, knowing I’d heard all of that. “I guess we’d better get back to the party.”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what that was all about, but it comforted me to know that Uncle Joey already had a contingency plan in place. If it involved Ramos, I knew it had something to do with security, and maybe a show of force with a few more bodyguards for everyone. I gulped. This was getting complicated.
We rejoined the party, and I tried not to let my worry overwhelm the fun. I did notice Uncle Joey speaking to Miguel about staying the next few days at the hotel. To his credit, Miguel didn’t object. After Uncle Joey explained the reason, he paled a little and nodded his agreement. Since Maggie had already made arrangements to stay for the week, that left everyone safe and accounted for.
It was after midnight before we finally went to bed. Right before heading upstairs, Syd let me know he’d set up the meeting for ten the next night.
Alone in our room, I could finally tell Chris about Uncle Joey’s meeting with Milo Bilotti. Chris inhaled sharply. “Damn. That doesn’t sound good. I wonder what Bilotti wants. I guess that means you’re invited?”
“Yeah.” Since I didn’t want Chris to worry too much, I played it down. “But since Uncle Joey’s not in the business here, it should just be a formality. Either way, it’s a good thing I can read minds, right? I’ll know exactly what he’s up to.”
“Yes.” He rubbed his forehead, thinking we were in a tight spot, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Is that why Miguel’s spending the next few days here?”
“Yes. Uncle Joey’s not taking any chances. I guess it means you’ll have a bodyguard following you around tomorrow, but I’m not going to complain. In fact, it makes me feel better, since I won’t be there.”
“That’s right. You’re going to the precinct in the morning.”
“Yeah. I’ll head out around eight-thirty. When I’m done, I’ll catch up with you and the kids. The meeting with Uncle Joey isn’t until ten tomorrow night, so it won’t interfere with anything else we have planned.”
“Okay. But if you think we might be in danger here, I won’t object to taking the kids home early.”
I sighed, knowing the kids would never forgive us if we made them leave now. “I agree, but it might not amount to anything. Let’s wait and see before we get too stressed out about it. Okay?” I tried to sound positive so Chris wouldn’t worry.
“Sure.” We talked about everything that had happened, and I told him about Savannah’s thoughts of spilling the beans to Miguel. He just shook his head, thinking what did we expect? Making our kids lie about something important like that was a bad idea.
I couldn’t have agreed more, but there wasn’t much we could do about it now. We climbed into bed and turned out the
lights. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but it was hard to let go of my worry about what tomorrow would bring. Not only did I worry about my meeting with the police, but now, meeting with a mob boss who had bad feelings against the Manettos made it even worse.
As I finally drifted off, I heard a soothing melody in a beautiful baritone voice that seemed part of my dreams, and I finally slept.
CHAPTER 3
The taxi dropped me off in front of the 12th Precinct. I felt a little strange walking inside without my police lanyard around my neck, but it wouldn’t do me any good here. I didn’t dress up either, since I wanted them to remember that I was on vacation. Still, my tan shorts and my royal blue t-shirt with screen-printed, rhinestone-studded flowers was a really cute outfit, so it shouldn’t be too casual.
The desk sargent had been watching for me. After putting the call through to the chief, he buzzed me right in. As I got off the elevator on the fourth floor, a handsome African-American man, with silver-tipped hair and a friendly smile, greeted me.
“Shelby Nichols?” he asked. At my nod, he shook my hand and continued. “I’m Martin Wallace. Thanks so much for coming. Let’s go to my office, and I’ll explain what we have.”
He’d looked me up, after Brian had told him about me, and had seen the footage of my interview when I’d stopped the shooting at the newspaper office. He thought I was more attractive in person, especially my blue eyes. Did I wear contacts?
Hmm… I didn’t know if I should be flattered or not. I also picked up that he trusted Brian’s recommendation that I was a bona fide psychic. He sure hoped I’d come through with something that would help. So far, none of their leads had gotten them any closer to the killer, and they needed some answers. With my help, maybe they’d catch a break on the case.
I sighed. Talk about pressure.
He opened the door to his office and ushered me inside. “Take a seat at the table, and I’ll call in the lead detective on the case.”
His corner office held the requisite windows looking out over the bullpen; with blinds that were wide open. I took a seat and watched Martin stop at the desk of a man with wavy, sandy-blonde hair. He wore a white shirt and tie, with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the corded muscles in his arms, along with the shoulder holster holding his gun.
The detective glanced toward the office to take a look at me while Martin spoke. From his serious expression, I couldn’t decide if he was happy about my involvement or not. A moment later, he shoved back his chair and followed Martin into the office. With both of the big men in the room, the space seemed to shrink by about ten feet.
“This is the lead detective on the case,” Martin said. “Shelby Nichols, this is Nate Hawkins.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.
“You too. And… call me Hawk.” His low voice held a hint of skepticism, and his piercing gaze left me in no doubt that he wasn’t a believer in my psychic abilities. Still, I had to admire his green eyes, which were framed by dark lashes any woman would kill for. He was clean-shaven, and his chin had a deep cleft, right in the center that caught my attention. What was it with detectives and dimples?
“Hawk… sure,” I answered, pulling my gaze away from his hypnotically, dimpled chin. With piercing eyes that took everything in, the name certainly fit. His attitude discouraged me though, but how could I complain? I didn’t want to be there either. Still, I didn’t want to waste his time, so I hoped I could help, even if it was just a little.
Martin glanced at Hawk, knowing he needed to convince him that I was the real deal. “My good friend, Chief Brian Winder, speaks highly of Shelby. She’s helped them out on a number of cases. Most recently, she was able to find the location of a bomb an hour before it was slated to detonate.” He glanced my way and smiled. “They diffused it in time. That’s impressive.”
Hawk’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you the same woman who stopped the shooter? Wasn’t it at a newspaper office or something?”
I nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. That was me. I’m just glad I was there.”
“No kidding,” Hawk said. He’d heard about me, but he didn’t realize I was the same person from that incident. This just got a lot more interesting. I was a like a puzzle, and working with me would help him figure out how I did it.
Oh great. Now I had to worry about him analyzing me. I’d have to be extra vigilant and more careful about answering thoughts.
“What do you usually need to help with a case?” Martin asked. “I have a copy of the report for you, and I wondered if it would help to visit the apartment where it happened?”
“Yes. I should probably see the apartment and visit the survivor at the hospital, but I’d like to know more about the case first.”
“Sure.” Martin opened the file and passed it to me. A grisly, close-up photo of one of the victims, after she’d been shot, stared me in the face. I tried not to react, but my breath hitched just the same. I glanced through the photos and then turned them over so I didn’t have to look at that horrible scene of blood and death.
Breathing through my mouth, I looked at the report; but in a haze of shock, I couldn’t exactly focus on the words. Swallowing to gain some composure, I glanced at Hawk. “Why don’t you tell me what you think happened?”
His eyes narrowed. He’d picked up my reaction and could tell I was the squeamish type. What a disappointment. How much help could I be if I couldn’t even read the report?
“We think they were all sitting in the living room when someone kicked in the door and shot them.” He turned the photos over. “If you’ll notice in the photos, two of them were still seated on the couch when they were shot. The third victim stood to run. She was shot last.”
I nodded without looking at the photos, confirming his suspicions that I was definitely squeamish.
“All the commotion woke the neighbor across the hall. He didn’t open his door, but he saw someone through his peephole run from the room. He called it in and waited for the police to arrive before he came out.”
“Does the building have any security cameras?”
“Yes, but the killer wore a hoodie, and his face was covered, so it wasn’t enough to get a match with anyone in our database.”
He thought this looked like a hit. Maybe one of them had an angry ex or an enemy of some kind. That usually entailed drugs or a gang but, since none of the women had a record of previous arrests or even traffic tickets, it wasn’t likely. They were clean; no drug use or any sign of nefarious activities.
Of course, he had yet to conduct all of his interviews with their co-workers and friends. He’d spent the day yesterday interviewing the survivor’s co-workers and family. He had another interview scheduled for this afternoon, which left the third victim after that.
It took longer to accomplish everything since his partner was out with an injury, and now he was stuck with me. He sure hoped I was worth every penny they’d agreed to pay me.
Geez. He made it sound like I was a magical product that was guaranteed to make his life easier. Go me. “Okay. Tell me about the women. Did they work together? How did they know each other?”
“They were all friends from college, but they didn’t work together. One worked for a bank.” He glanced through the file for her title. “Yeah, she was a loan officer. Another worked for an urban planning office as a city planner, and the third was a singer. I think she was in one of the Broadway musicals.”
My breath hitched. Hadn’t Miguel been thinking about someone from the show who’d died recently? “Was her name Cammie?”
Hawk’s brows rose. “Yeah.” His eyes narrowed. Was I trying to sound like I’d had a premonition? I could have easily picked that up from the news. All of their names had been in the headlines. Still, the unease I displayed seemed genuine.
Martin knew he hadn’t said anything about their names, so he thought my psychic ability was kicking in. “Did you get something?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Which
one of them is in the hospital?”
“Taylor Price. She’s the city planner.”
“She might be in danger. Do you have police protection for her?”
Martin nodded. “Yes. We have an officer there. ”
“Good. I think I need to see her. Then I should probably check out the apartment.” I didn’t know if I’d pick up anything from her mind, but it was worth a shot. I had to agree with Hawk. This looked like a hit. But why were they targeted? Could it have something to do with Miguel? Was it mob related? I sure hoped not.
“All right. Let’s head out.” Hawk hurried to his desk and slipped on his suit coat.
“Good luck, Shelby,” Martin said. “Thanks again for helping us out.” He counted on me to get to the bottom of this and was grateful I’d come.
“You bet.”
I followed Hawk to the elevator, and we exited in the parking garage. He showed me to his unmarked car, and I slid into the passenger seat.
“The hospital’s not far,” he said, buckling up. “We should be there in about twenty minutes.”
I smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”
As we pulled out onto the street, Hawk glanced my way. “The chief said you were here on vacation.”
“Yeah, we flew in yesterday.” Since he couldn’t figure out why I’d work while on vacation, I decided to explain. “Chief Winder asked me to help you guys out. I didn’t really want to, but I also didn’t want to let the chief down. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but, hopefully, I’ll get something.”
He nodded, hoping the same thing, then continued. “Do you have family here?”
Crap. “Uh, not really.” That wasn’t a lie, since the Manettos weren’t really my family. “We have some friends that we’re spending some time with, so that’s good.”
He nodded, thinking that was a strange answer. How could I “not really” have family here? That meant I must have family, but I didn’t want to admit it. Now why would I say that?
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