“Well, we’ve had a few who weren’t just nasty...they were criminal,” she said. “But just because you’re a criminal doesn’t mean you’re not a dog lover.”
“I got you covered,” Milo said. He reached beneath his jacket and produced a small folded cloth with a belt around it.
She looked at him with curiosity.
“It lets people know he is a service dog. It’s cheating a little, but only a little. Ruff has been a service dog on this, providing a tremendous service, really.”
Kieran smiled. “It will do for our present situation,” she said. “Thank you.”
She still intended to keep Ruff in Declan’s office. She didn’t know the little dog well enough yet to know how he’d behave in a noisy pub with all kinds of people. “I think,” Milo said as they walked, “I might just start having breakfast before coming on duty. I saw on the sign that Annie’s Sunrise opens at 6:00 a.m.”
“You like Annie, hmm?”
“You think she’s married or in a relationship?”
“I have no idea.”
“You could ask her for me.”
“Milo, we’re looking for a killer.”
“Yes, and her place seems a magnet for suspects, so...what’s not to like about combining business and pleasure? You could ask a few questions for me. Nothing too serious—just, is she in a steady relationship? Is she open to a handsome G-man? I am kind of cute at least, right?”
Kieran laughed. “Adorable,” she assured him.
“Hey, life goes on. I intend to rise in the Bureau, but it doesn’t mean I want to spend my nights alone.” He grimaced.
“Gotcha. We’ll find out about Annie.”
The pub was right ahead. She paused to dress Ruff in the little coat that proclaimed him a service dog, then swept him up. Milo opened the door for her and they went in.
* * *
When an alarm went off and a nurse rushed into the room, Craig shot a look at Mike and then, policy or no, he rushed in behind the nurse.
Thankfully, Simon Wrigley hadn’t flatlined.
He’d awakened fighting, apparently engaged in the battle in the alley that had almost killed him.
“Mr. Wrigley, Mr. Wrigley,” the nurse said, trying to pin his arms and calm him. “You’re all right, you’re all right. You’re in the hospital.”
She caught one of the wild-eyed man’s arms; she almost got a good wallop to the jaw with the other, but Craig got hold just in time and stopped the swing.
The nurse looked at him appreciatively.
“Mr. Wrigley, it’s Special Agent Frasier. You’re in the hospital. You’re all right now. You’re being guarded. You’re all right.”
The desperate look remained in Wrigley’s powder-light eyes for several seconds, then his muscles eased, and he spoke in a hoarse whisper.
“Hospital.”
“Yes, sir. You were attacked in the alley by Annie’s Sunrise.”
Craig heard Mike come in quietly and stand a few feet behind him. The nurse was still there, but she had backed away, too.
Waiting.
Wrigley frowned, confusion wresting across his features. He stared at Craig and demanded, “Why?”
“We don’t know. Do you?”
Wrigley shook his head, at a loss.
“Sir, this is important. Who attacked you?” Craig said.
“Why?” Wrigley repeated. “I—I’m in the office most of the time. We never have problems. Mayhew... Blom...the ice chute. Those were the only...only failings we’ve ever had. Why?”
Craig could barely hear his words; he had to lean close.
“Sir, did you see anyone approach you?”
“I don’t know,” Wrigley whispered. “I got off the subway. I was taking the alley over...”
He paused, his eyes widening.
“I could see someone coming from the street, then I heard someone behind me. And then...then felt arms. Felt the lock around my back and my neck. And I saw...saw someone running, coming toward me...couldn’t breathe. Knew I was dying—”
He broke off again and stared at Craig.
“I am alive. This is a hospital.”
“You are alive. It is a hospital.”
“He had me. I never saw his face, never had a chance to turn. I tried to shout...someone was coming from the other way...never saw his face either. Everything just all went dark. I thought I was done. I...never saw either man. I... I am alive,” he whispered, and he looked at Craig. His absolute confusion knit his face into hard wrinkles. “Why...who would do this...to me?”
Craig heard Mike sigh deeply and then speak. “Sir, that’s what we were hoping you were going to tell us.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WALKING INTO THE pub was apparently a bit much for Ruff.
He didn’t bark, but he whined and tried to press himself into Kieran’s ribs, hiding his head beneath her arm.
She figured that was a good thing; she left Milo at one of the little booths between the bar and the front door and went straight to Declan’s office. “Be good!” she told the little dog as she set him down.
He cocked his head at an angle, listening to her. What went on in his dog mind, she had no idea.
She backed out slowly, closing the door. When she turned, Declan was staring at her.
“You just put a dog in my office.”
“That’s Ruff. I thought I told you about him. Maybe I didn’t. Declan...”
“Okay, whatever. It’s all right. He’s a service dog?”
“He’s definitely in my service at the moment,” she said cheerfully.
“Everything all right?” he asked her.
She stared at him, brows arching. She took a deep breath, then plunged into an explanation of what had happened, leaving him to shake his head.
“You just happened to be there?” Declan asked.
“Now, you’re sounding like Craig! No, I went on purpose.”
“Hmm. Okay, so you want to spend your time at Sunrise Annie’s. Maybe we can get Annie to come here instead.”
“Maybe. Milo has a crush on her.”
“Oh, there is really an Annie, and she’s young and cute? Well, then, invite her in. Oh, and quit trying to meet up with Nicholson. I know you believe you’re safe, but the man is a serial killer.”
“I’m not a witch.”
“I don’t know. I think that Kevin, Danny, and I could argue that!”
“Jerk!”
He grinned, and she shook her head. Growing up with three brothers, especially her three brothers, had not been an easy task.
“You need help anywhere?” she asked.
“We’re in good shape right now. Where’s Craig?”
“At the hospital. They’re hoping that Simon Wrigley will know who attacked him.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Declan said. “We’re covered. Sit down with your bodyguard. Poor guy. What an assignment they gave him.”
She made a face at Declan, pushed him out of the way as she came behind the bar, then poured herself and Milo glasses of soda, adding limes and orange twists just because they were there.
She decided to throw a cherry into each glass, too.
“Ah, there’s the sorry man of the hour,” Declan murmured, coming back beside her.
She looked up. Nicholson’s attorney was coming in, making a beeline for the bar, just as he had the other day.
Cliff Watkins smiled weakly when he saw her. “Working a lot,” he said. She poured him a shot of whiskey, and he drained it in a swallow. “A lot,” he said gravely, setting his glass on the counter.
“I guess you’re in a tough place,” she prompted.
He shook his head, pursing his lips. “You know, this should have been easy. The man is certifiably insane. You must see that. He should have gone immediate
ly to a facility, something really maximum security. He should have been put away, and this should have been over. And, you know I tried to help his wife. I thought she was a poor thing, a victim in her own way. Well, she’s a raving bitch. They searched her apartment today. I tried to explain there was nothing that could be done about it, that the agents had a search warrant and that it wasn’t unexpected, what with her husband on the loose and her claiming to love him despite his guilt. The kids...they’re decent. You know, I got that business sold with his blessing and do you know what? She still didn’t help her kids. Two boys who got scholarships—the first graduated with honors and the second is still working his way through.” He shook his head. “Hit me again, and I’ll pay my bill this time and go back to work.”
She poured him another shot. “You know what happened this afternoon?” she asked.
“I do. Nicholson tried to kill Simon Wrigley, that man who manages the security at the building where those other men were killed.”
She hadn’t seen the news, and she didn’t know how it was being reported, but apparently—and luckily—she and Milo had been deep enough in the alley that, as far as the media went, they hadn’t been a part of it.
“You think it was Nicholson?” she asked.
He lifted his glass to her. “Slainte—may this end!” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, may it end.”
He set his glass on the bar along with cash to pay for his drinks. “Well, back to work,” he said glumly, and he turned and left the bar, a weary slump to his shoulders.
* * *
Craig didn’t want to leave the hospital until he was certain that Simon Wrigley was well-guarded.
NYPD and the FBI were both going to provide officers to watch over Simon Wrigley.
His attempted killer might not know that the man hadn’t recognized his attacker. He certainly didn’t know that Raoul Nicholson had been there, either attempting to kill him or save him. Mike was worn out. He made it back to the offices to check in with Egan and get Kieran’s phone back, then he dropped Craig at the pub, but didn’t come in. He was going straight home to bed.
“My mind is exhausted,” Mike said, letting Craig out on Broadway. “I’m hoping I can turn it off. And I know you. You’ll be making lists in your mind all night, too. Then again, maybe not. You’ve got Kieran. Other things to do at night. Sorry, too personal. I just meant...”
“I thought I needed more of a life—you need to get one!” Craig teased.
“Yeah, yeah. Then again, if I know Kieran, she’ll be going over it all again and again... You know, maybe we should set it up so that Nicholson can get to her.”
“You want to use Kieran as bait?” Craig said incredulously.
“He wants to see her, and we don’t believe that he’s the one who killed Mayhew and Blom. And Kieran doesn’t believe that Nicholson intends her any harm.”
“You want to use my fiancée as bait?” Craig repeated.
“We’d never let her be in any danger. We could just make it appear that she was reachable.”
“Go get some sleep, Mike. We can’t use a civilian as bait.”
“She’s not exactly a civilian.”
“She’s a civilian,” Craig said flatly.
Mike shrugged. “Close the damned door then, huh? Let me get out of here.”
Craig was tense as he went into the pub.
Milo DeLuca, true to his word, was seated at one of the enclave tables; Kieran was behind the bar when Craig entered, talking to one of the pub’s longest-standing customers, a good old Irish fellow who drank nothing but soda water—but loved the camaraderie of sitting at the bar.
Kieran flashed Craig a grimace, excused herself from chatting with the customer, and glanced Declan’s way so that he knew she was leaving the bar.
“I’m ready for home,” Craig told her, taking her hand and pulling her close for a quick kiss. “So ready!”
“You ate?”
“We grabbed some sandwiches at the hospital. Good enough.” He handed over the plain box that held her phone.
“What is this?”
“Your phone.”
“Already?”
“They have everything off it,” he said. “I’m sorry—everything. But don’t worry, they’ll destroy any records as soon as they’re done.”
She smiled. “I wasn’t worried.”
“No Big Brother complexes, huh?”
“Well, I live with Big Brother, so it would be a rather futile complex. I just have to get Ruff,” she said. Craig gave a wave to Declan at the bar, then walked over to join Milo at his table.
“Nothing from Wrigley, right?” Milo said by way of greeting. “Kieran told me.”
“Nothing, and then again, maybe they found something in the alley. They’ll be testing everything. Oh, and even though everyone was rushing to save Wrigley’s life, we had a photographer take pictures of the bruises on the neck. It’s a long shot, but sometimes photos can be enhanced, and fingerprints can be seen in the bruises. Another long shot—they might match a fingerprint. To be honest, I don’t think we’re getting him that way. He wears gloves. They didn’t get a thing out of Charles Mayhew’s apartment, and they tore it apart.” He paused. Kieran had already come from the office, Ruff in her arms, and the dog was wearing a little jacket with the words Service Dog on it.
He arched a brow to Kieran.
“Courtesy of Milo,” she told him.
“We had a few in the office.” Milo shrugged.
“Shall we go?” Craig asked.
“I’ll run over and get the car,” Milo told them. “I left it parked at Federal Plaza. I’ll come back for you guys. Then I can drop you off. Another agent should be at the building by now.”
“We can walk Ruff,” Kieran said. “By the time you get the car—”
“I’ll be really quick.”
“Sure,” Craig said. “Milo can drop us. I’m tired. We can just take Ruff outside here while we’re waiting.”
They followed Milo out, and Kieran let Ruff down to the sidewalk, where he found a little cutout with a small tree.
“He is a good dog. He had a good master,” Craig said.
“I think we’re doing the best we can for Olav Blom, keeping Ruff,” Kieran said.
Craig nodded. He looked at her. “You really believe that Nicholson was trying to help Simon Wrigley today?”
“I do.”
Craig shook his head. “If he’s not killing people again, why did he escape?”
“Maybe the voice told him to escape? We know that at times, at least, there was an actual voice.”
Craig nodded thoughtfully. “Amazing when a higher power uses a cell phone, huh?”
She didn’t reply, and he smiled. Yes, her mind was working. Mike did know Kieran.
As fast as he’d promised, Milo pulled around with the car.
* * *
Back in the apartment, Kieran played with the dog and checked his water bowl and his puppy pads.
Craig acknowledged that Mike was on to something—their minds were tired. Physically, he was tired, too, but he realized he was mentally creating one of the boards they used at the office. A list of all the involved persons. There were the people at Mayhew’s building, all of whom had checked out. Then again, the tenants, except for the vacationing couple, had been there when Mayhew had been killed. There were the security guards/doormen, all of whom had passed background checks and been fingerprinted and bonded before being hired. There was Nicholson’s family; there were the people at the coffee shop.
He headed up to their bedroom, stripping and heading straight into the shower.
A minute later Kieran joined him, soaping his flesh, rubbing her fingers over him, her touch, beneath the steaming spray, ever more erotic.
He whirled around and embraced her, whispering against her
lips.
“You do turn my mind off.”
“In a good way, or a bad way?” she teased.
He grabbed the soap and began to work his fingers over her smooth, naked flesh.
“In the best way,” he whispered.
She rose on her toes, the length of her body sliding over his.
“You turn my mind off, too...in the very best way.”
He heard the strum of the water.
And he felt her.
It wasn’t until hours had past, when they had made love, curled together and dozed, that he realized Kieran was awake again. She was at the window, looking out.
“Kieran?”
“My mind woke up,” she told him.
He rose and padded over to her, drawing her away from the window and back to the bed.
“Let me turn it off again,” he teased softly.
“Oh, please do,” she whispered.
He did his best to oblige.
* * *
“So, we are headed to Annie’s first, right?” Milo asked hopefully as he slid behind the wheel of his Bureau car, ready to escort Kieran for the day.
She smiled. “Yes, we can go to Annie’s for breakfast. I can see if I can get her to sit with us for a bit. Who knows? I had wanted to go there very specifically, just to see if she had anything to say that she might not have said before, something she didn’t realize could relate to Raoul Nicholson or people that he knew. Now, of course, we can still hope for something and find out if there is a significant other in her life.”
“I love the way you think!” Milo said, but then he glanced her way again. “No taking off without me again, huh?”
“No taking off without you again,” she promised.
At the coffee shop, Annie wasn’t behind the register, but Blake, the young man who had waited on Kieran and Danny when she had first come to the café, came around and greeted them enthusiastically.
“Hey, welcome back, take a seat. I’ll have water and menus right away. Coffee?” he asked. They nodded.
The Final Deception Page 23