by Laura Scott
“Or he has someone backing him up,” Nate countered.
She swiveled in her seat to stare at him. “Are you insinuating he’s part of the mob?”
He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not insinuating anything. It’s just a theory.” His gaze returned to the screen. “I’m going to keep digging for a while, see if I can find anything that links Banjo to Craggy Face, aka Carl Dower—or at least I’m pretty sure that’s his name. It was written on a slip of paper found on the drug dealer Craggy Face killed.”
She nodded and rose to her feet. She trusted Nate to find Craggy Face. More, she trusted Nate with her life and Lucy’s.
When Nate’s phone rang, she jumped, looking over at him expectantly. His expression was serious as he listened. “Okay, thanks, Eden.”
“What?”
“They found the stolen Lincoln, abandoned not far from Prospect Park. They’re checking for prints, but...” He shrugged.
Disappointed, she sighed. Craggy Face was too smart to leave fingerprints behind.
Although she wished she knew why he was so intent on causing her harm.
The rest of the evening passed by uneventfully. Lucy was happy to have her princess pajamas that Nate had brought from her brother’s house.
Willow lay beside Lucy to tell her a story but felt herself dozing off, her niece snuggled against her.
“I’ll kill you and the brat, too!”
“No! Please, Lord, save us!” Willow ran and ran, through the alley, dodging around dumpsters, her breath heaving from her lungs, her pulse thundering in her ears.
Nooo.
She awoke with a jolt, her face wet with tears, hardly able to breathe from the tightness of her lungs. She swiped at her face, reminding herself it was only a dream.
A terrible, horrible dream.
Taking care not to wake Lucy, she slipped from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to erase the images in her mind.
“Willow? Are you all right?”
She dried her hands and face and opened the bathroom door. Nate stood there, looking rumpled from sleep, yet still far too attractive for her peace of mind. Murphy stood beside him, looking up at her as if he were worried about her, too. “Yes. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I heard muffled crying, thought it was Lucy.” His gaze was dark with concern.
“It was me. I—had a nightmare.” She shivered. “But I’m fine. Thankfully I didn’t wake Lucy.”
“Come here, sit down for a minute.” Nate took her hand and led her to the sofa. Murphy flopped on the floor at their feet. “Do you want something? Water? Tea?”
His offer was sweet, but she shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
He sank down beside her. “You want to talk about it?”
She blew out a breath. “It was just Craggy Face chasing me, telling me he was going to kill me and Lucy.” The images her mind had conjured up had been all too real.
Nate put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She reveled in his warmth. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Willow. You and Lucy are safe with me and Murphy.”
“I know. God is watching over all of us.” She leaned against him, burying her face against his T-shirt. He was a rock in an otherwise stormy sea. “I just want this to be over. For Lucy to be safe.”
“I know.” He brushed a kiss to her temple.
Nestled against him, she didn’t want to move. Somehow, in the short time she’d known him, Nate had become important to her. More than a friend, despite her best efforts to hold him at arm’s length. He was so wonderful to her and to Lucy, she just knew he’d make a wonderful husband and father.
After several long moments she lifted her head, searching his gaze in the dim light from the city flowing through the living room window. “You’re a good man, Nate Slater,” she whispered.
He shook his head, but his gaze clung to hers. “You don’t know how often I wrestle with my anger.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t we all wrestle with our flaws? Mine happens to be impatience, in case you haven’t noticed. None of us is perfect, Nate, but God loves us anyway.”
He didn’t say anything, his gaze thoughtful. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, even though she’d rather have a real kiss from him.
He flashed a wry smile and hugged her. For a moment she clung to him, wishing for something more. As she pulled away, his mouth captured hers and she couldn’t stop from kissing him the way she’d wanted to.
But then she forced herself to pull away, knowing that this was the path to heartbreak. Her breathing was ragged, but she managed to pull herself together. “Good night, Nate.”
He released her and she thought she could feel his gaze boring into her back as she moved toward the bedroom.
As she slipped back inside the bedroom she shared with Lucy, she heard his whisper.
“Good night, Willow.”
* * *
No surprise that Nate didn’t sleep well after Willow’s mind-blowing kiss. The words she’d told him had echoed over and over in his head.
He’d found himself wondering if God had been looking out for him and his mother, bringing Geoff Cally into their lives to help save them.
That God was actually helping him to keep a tight rein on his temper. To be fair, he’d never lost it, but he’d always assumed it was a matter of time.
He’d caught a few hours of rest until Willow and Lucy had gotten up. He took care of Murphy first, then when they were finished in the bathroom, he took his turn.
Willow was making scrambled eggs when he emerged. Lucy had her doll sitting on the chair beside her and was trying to convince her aunt to give her dolly some breakfast, too.
“She can share some of yours, Lucy.” Willow glanced at him with a smile. “Good morning, Nate.”
“Morning.” He cleared his throat and took the seat across from Lucy. “I’m going to head out for a while today, but I’ll arrange someone to come and stay with you.”
The light in Willow’s cinnamon eyes dimmed but she nodded. “Okay. Breakfast will be ready in a jiffy.”
“Thanks.” He was humbled by how easily she included him in meals, so he made an effort to keep Lucy entertained as she cooked.
“Who’s coming to babysit this time?” She placed a plate with eggs and toast in front of Lucy, then brought him a larger serving.
“I’m waiting to hear back.” He’d made the call while outside with Murphy. He didn’t want to leave her alone, but knew his preoccupation with Willow and Lucy had to stop. “The team is busy this morning, and if one of them can’t come, then I’ll get someone from the closest precinct to come over.”
“Okay.” Willow joined them at the table.
When they’d finished eating, Nate helped clean up the dishes, then made another call to his unit. There was still no one available for protection duty, so he made the call to the nearest precinct. Their boss had to talk to Gavin before they agreed to send a female cop, Kathleen Kuhn, over.
She arrived almost thirty minutes later. She didn’t look happy about the assignment, but he didn’t care. Finding Damon Berk and/or Craggy Face was his top priority.
And he couldn’t do that while sitting here in Willow’s apartment. As it was, he was getting a later start than he would have liked. Still, he forced a smile. “Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t let her lack of enthusiasm get to him. “What’s your phone number, in case I need to reach you?”
He rattled it off, then entered her cell number into his phone, too. He put Murphy’s vest on, then straightened. “I’ll be on the radio, too.” He turned and headed to the door. “Come, Murphy.”
Murphy was on alert as they left Willow and Lucy with Kathleen. Despite her attitude,
he felt certain the cop would take protecting Willow and Lucy seriously.
Willow’s apartment wasn’t far from the Burgerteria, so he headed there first. He wasn’t leaving until he’d confronted Damon Berk about Craggy Face and the murder of Paulie White.
The restaurant was supposed to be open by ten thirty in the morning, according to the hours posted on the door, but as he and Murphy approached, the interior was dark, no sign of customers seated inside. He tried the door, but it was locked.
He frowned, a sliver of apprehension snaking down his spine. Were the employees running late? Or was something deeper amiss?
He leaned in close, cupping his hands around his face so he could see better. At first there was nothing, then a dark shadow of movement. The figure turned and he instantly recognized Damon Berk.
“Hey! Berk! Open up! Police!” He rapped sharply on the door, holding his badge up so that Damon could see it. The manager looked indecisive for a moment, as if he wanted to run, then reluctantly approached.
He opened the door just enough to talk. “Now what do you want?”
“Why are you closed?”
Damon scowled, sending a furtive glance over his shoulder as if seeking reinforcement. “My delivery truck is late. Can’t make burgers without ground beef. I’ll be opening soon. Why does it matter to you?”
It didn’t but he’d wanted to get the guy talking. “Listen, your buddy Carl Dower is wanted for murder.” His blunt statement seemed to catch Berk off guard.
“What? Wait a minute, he’s not my buddy.” Panic flared in Damon’s eyes.
“How did you know who I was talking about, then?” Nate challenged. “The guy who you were talking to in the photograph Willow took was Carl Dower, right?”
“No, I—uh, well, I may have remembered his name from when he complained about his food, but that doesn’t make him a friend.” Sweat beaded along Berk’s hairline again. Nate couldn’t contain a surge of satisfaction that he had Berk right where he wanted him.
“If you don’t want to be arrested for aiding and abetting a known felon, you’ll tell me where to find him.”
“I don’t know.” Berk’s denial sounded weak.
A flash of movement from behind Berk caught his eye. “Who’s back there? Is that him? Dower?”
“No!” Berk blocked the doorway with his body, closing the door even further. “It’s the cook. I told you my food shipment is late.”
Nate didn’t believe him. Murphy growled low in his throat, his nose working as he sniffed the air, and that was enough to convince him. He whirled away from the restaurant door, instinctively knowing Dower had headed out the back. “Come!”
He raced down the road, around the corner leading to the back alley running the length of the building. Murphy kept pace, although he knew his partner could easily outrun him.
As he headed down the alley, he could make out a figure dressed in black up ahead. It wasn’t easy to tell from the back, but Nate felt certain it was Carl Dower. “Get him, Murphy!”
Murphy put on a burst of speed, easily closing in on the guy.
The perp suddenly stopped and turned. A gun! No! Dower was pointing the weapon at Murphy!
“Heel, Murphy! Heel!” Nate reached for his weapon, hoping, praying that he could stop Dower from shooting his partner.
The command caused Murphy to stop on a dime. His partner turned and came back toward him. The sound of a gunshot echoed sharply, ricocheting off the buildings surrounding them.
“No!” His voice was hoarse as he returned fire. “Murphy!”
He was so focused on his partner that he didn’t realize that Dower had fled the scene. He dropped to his knees, gathering Murphy close, feeling for any sign of an injury.
No blood, thankfully. Nate sent up a quick prayer of thanks to God for watching over his partner.
He rose to his feet and ran to the end of the alley. But it was too late.
Dower was gone.
FIFTEEN
Nate called for backup, frustrated with himself for letting Carl Dower escape. While he waited for someone from his team to arrive, he ran around to the front of the restaurant and pounded on the glass door. “Berk! Open up!”
The manager didn’t answer. Nate wondered if the manager had taken off once he and Murphy had gone around back, or if he was hiding inside. His gut leaned toward hiding. He yanked on the door, but it was still locked.
“Berk!” He shouted and pounded again, but there was still no response. Reeling in his temper, he spun away from the door and reached for his phone.
“Roarke? It’s Slater. I need your help.” Henry Roarke was a K-9 detective who was stuck on modified desk duty while IAB investigated an excessive use of force allegation, a claim no one believed for one minute. Roarke wasn’t happy about the situation, annoyed with how long it was taking the IAB to clear his name, but being on desk duty meant Henry was in a good position to do the paperwork he desperately needed in order to get a search warrant for the Burgerteria.
After explaining to Henry what he needed, the K-9 detective sounded hesitant. “I don’t know, Nate. Dower isn’t in the restaurant now. He took off. I’m not convinced a judge will approve this. After all, you don’t know for sure that Dower was inside the restaurant, right? You didn’t see his face until he was in the alley. All we can say is that Dower may have been in the restaurant but was for sure in the alley.”
“I know it was him.” He scowled and rubbed his jaw, replaying those tense minutes when he’d caught the flash of movement. He let out a heavy breath, knowing he couldn’t lie. “But you’re right, I didn’t get a good look at him inside the restaurant.”
“Listen, I’ll do my best,” Henry promised. “I’ll call you back as soon as I hear something, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He disconnected from the call and returned to the alley just as Vivienne and her K-9 partner, Hank, approached.
Nate jogged over to meet them. “Carl Dower was here—around back. He fired a gun at Murphy and took off on foot. We need to find him!”
“Did you call Eden to look for camera footage? He may have gotten on the subway or at least close enough to be picked up on the subway cameras.”
Good point. He reached for his radio. “Dispatch, I need to talk to Eden.” He waited for the dispatcher to transfer the call, scanning the alley. “Vivienne, call the crime scene techs. If possible, I’d like Darcy to come look for the brass left behind from Dower’s weapon.”
“Will do.” Vivienne reached for her phone.
“Chang,” Eden answered through the radio.
“It’s Nate. I need you to look at the cameras near the Burgerteria restaurant, see if you can pick up Carl Dower, aka Craggy Face, you know, the guy you found on video before. He took a shot at Murphy.”
“Oh no! Is Murphy okay?”
Nate glanced down at his partner. “Yeah, he’s not hurt. Thankfully Dower missed.”
“Okay, let’s see. I have five cameras up around the area you’ve mentioned. Here!” Her voice lifted in excitement. “I found him! He’s still on foot, about seven blocks from you, heading east. You better hurry, the camera on the next block is broken. He’s heading into a video dead zone.”
“I’m going. Come, Murphy!” Nate broke into a run, envisioning the streets in his head so he could find the shortest route. His police SUV was located in the opposite direction, so he didn’t bother to go back for it.
“I’ll try to head him off at the pass in my vehicle.” Vivienne shouted from the driver’s seat. “Stay on your radio!”
He barely spared her a glance as he ran for all he was worth. He knew Dower was armed but couldn’t tolerate the idea he might actually get away.
Nate wanted, needed to find him. To toss him behind bars where he belonged.
He made good time, but as he reached the intersection, there was no sign o
f Dower. He called Eden, breathing hard. “Do you have him on video?”
“No. I’m sorry, but he’s gone.” Eden’s voice echoed with regret. “He never showed up on any of the other cameras after heading into the radius of the broken one. I have to assume he once again was picked up in a vehicle.”
“How is that possible?” Nate bent over to brace his hands on his knees. Murphy nudged him with his nose, then licked his face. He slowly straightened, raking his gaze over the area. “Do you think he knew this particular camera was broken?”
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how. It’s not general knowledge available to the public, but who knows if he has friends in high places? I’m sorry, Nate. I feel terrible that I lost him.”
“It’s okay.” He sighed. The broken camera was hardly her fault; in a city the size of New York, there was no way to avoid the occasional broken camera. Still, it nagged at him that Dower had managed to disappear in the black void.
“I’ll keep scanning for him. Maybe I’ll be able to pick him up again.”
“I hope so.” Nate disconnected, then turned to retrace his steps to go back to the Burgerteria, Murphy keeping pace beside him.
His phone rang and he quickly picked it up. “Slater.”
“It’s Vivienne. I’m stuck in traffic. Have you found him?”
“No. Eden lost him, too. Broken camera.” He tried not to sound as disappointed and upset as he felt. “I’m heading back to the Burgerteria. Hopefully Henry can get the search warrant I requested.”
“Nate, Sarge wants us to report to headquarters. He wants an update on this case ASAP. He didn’t like hearing Murphy was almost hit by a bullet.”
The last thing he wanted to do was to leave the scene of the crime. But if their boss wanted an update, he didn’t have any choice but to comply. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there soon.”
“Later.” Vivienne ended the call.
Nate broke into a light jog. Instead of going to the restaurant, he went to where he’d left his SUV. Murphy needed water, and the backs of all their K-9 vehicles were equipped with a fresh water system, a key component in taking good care of their four-legged partners.