The Cop

by Cara Summers

  “It wasn’t a show. I’m telling you—”

  “Just shut up a minute.” Kneeling down in front of her, he grabbed her hands. “First, the man you’re accusing is Frankie Carlucci, youngest brother of Angelo, who runs the Carlucci business interests.”

  “Snake Eyes is the bridegroom’s uncle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then he might have had just as great a motive as Roman Oliver to stop that wedding.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Except he has an ironclad alibi, and Roman doesn’t.”

  “Any chance he has a twin brother?” she asked.

  “No. And right now his alibi isn’t my main concern.”

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s go with what we both believe—that in spite of the fact that Captain Parker is giving him an alibi, Frankie Carlucci is your Snake Eyes. You with me so far?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. The man has the balls to walk right in here. He knows you saw him without his mask. He must have suspected that there’d be an artist’s sketch of him by this time. So he gussies himself up until he looks like he’s ready to pose for the cover of a pricey man’s fashion magazine. He’s confident about his alibi. After all, Parker will be here to back him up. But it’s still risky. And there’s a chance that you’ll be here and cause a scene.”

  “A lot of good it did,” J.C. said.

  “Oh, I’m thinking it did some good all right. Just not for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He volunteers to come here representing his family, and he not only establishes that he couldn’t be the man you saw at the church, but he also knows exactly where you are now, and if he’s smart enough to make some basic deductions, he knows that I’m probably assigned to protect you.”

  Her hands tightened on his. “You think he’ll try to kill me again.”

  “Jude Catherine, I’ll promise you one thing. I’m not going to give him the chance.”

  THE TENSION in Captain Parker’s office was so thick that J.C. would have had to use one of her Japanese Santoku knives to hack through it. D.C. Parker was standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out his window. Nik was pacing behind her chair, anger radiating off of him in waves. The bone of contention was the sketch that the police artist had drawn. It was lying on Parker’s desk, and even J.C. had to admit that it wasn’t a mirror likeness of Frankie Carlucci.

  Nik might believe that Frankie Carlucci was the man who’d shot Father Mike, but his captain wasn’t convinced.

  “Look,” she said, “I understand that he looked a lot different when he walked in here this afternoon. But last night he was wearing a ski mask and he’d tied his hair back into a ponytail. That’s the way I described him for the sketch. Today, he looked as if he’d just stepped out of a hair salon.”

  “He probably did just step out of a hair salon,” Nik muttered behind her.

  Parker turned from the window. “I understand what you’re saying, Ms. Riley, but the fact remains that eyewitness testimony does not have a high rate of accuracy. Based on the statistics alone, you may very well be mistaken.”

  “She’s not,” Nik said.

  Parker ignored him.

  J.C. couldn’t have put into words what it meant to her that Nik believed her, but she didn’t want him to get in trouble with his captain. Still, she knew Frankie Carlucci was the man. “I’m not mistaken.”

  Parker looked directly at her when he spoke. “Even if I do believe you, there’s the matter of his alibi. Many people, including your stepmother and your father, can testify that he was in the grand ballroom at the St. Regis Hotel during the time that Father Mike was shot. Your stepmother cochaired that event with Gina Carlucci.”

  “You had your eyes on him every single minute?” Nik asked.

  “It was hard not to. The ballroom had a balcony with tables set up along the railing. Frankie and Gina Carlucci were seated at one of those tables. They were in plain sight up until the time that I got your call from the church and left.”

  Nik paused to place his hands on J.C.’s shoulders. “He’s the one, Captain. Maybe you’re too focused on charging Roman Oliver to see that.”

  The tension in the office grew even thicker. When Captain Parker finally spoke, his voice was low but clipped. “I’m going to forget you said that, Detective Angelis. And I’m going to point out to you that your own view of this case might be suffering from a bit of tunnel vision as well. I know that Roman Oliver has been a good friend to your family. Perhaps you’re so focused on finding evidence that proves what you want to prove that you’re blind to the facts.”

  “One of the facts is that Drew Merriweather claims that Roman was trying to help the bride and groom,” Nik argued.

  “Or he was pretending to,” Parker said. “He may have been putting on a show for his sister.”

  “A show that included having one of the shooters shoving him down the stairs?” Nik asked.

  “Accidents happen.”

  “With all due respect, sir—”

  “Not another word, Angelis.” With a sigh, Parker sat down at his desk. “You’re not working this case. You’re assigned to protect Ms. Riley. But I’m going to tell you about the latest report that I received from the lab. Roman and Sadie Oliver left prints on both of the ransom notes that were sent out to the families.”

  Her stomach sinking, J.C. placed her hand over Nik’s.

  “That’s impossible,” Nik said.

  “No. That’s hard evidence,” Parker replied. “And based on it, I’m going to arrest Roman Oliver just as soon as the doctors say he can have visitors.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them. “Come in.”

  Theo Angelis opened the door, then stopped. “Sorry. I can come back if this isn’t a good time.”

  J.C. twisted in her chair to see Theo and the young man who’d left with him earlier.

  “Nik,” Theo said, nodding at his brother. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Not at all. This is as good a time as any,” Parker said. “Since your brother will no doubt pass everything along that I say to him, I might as well save the two of you some time.” He gestured toward J.C. “This is Ms. J.C. Riley. She saw the man who shot Father Mike, and your brother has been assigned to protect her. She’s just identified him as Frankie Carlucci, but I’ve given Frankie an ironclad alibi. As Roman Oliver’s counsel, you’ll do your best to break it, but I’ll warn you that hundreds of others, including Commissioner Galvin and Ms. Riley’s stepmother, will confirm my testimony.”

  “I see.” Theo nodded at J.C. and then returned his gaze to Parker and nodded in the direction of the young man next to him. “I’ve brought my intern along. This is Sam Schaeffer. He’s finishing his last year at Stanford. I hope you don’t mind if he takes notes.”

  “Not at all,” Parker said.

  Theo’s intern could be worth a second glance, too, J.C. decided, if he’d stop slouching and look up from the floor. He was younger, perhaps in his early twenties and was built along more slender lines than the Angelis brothers. He wore his dark hair a bit longish, and though he’d slicked it back, a few stray locks had tumbled forward onto his forehead.

  “Is there any other bad news you want to pass on to me?” Theo asked.

  “Sure.” Parker sent him a grim smile. “I was just telling your brother that we have enough evidence to arrest Roman Oliver. His fingerprints and those of his sister Sadie were found on both of the ransom notes.”

  Sam Schaeffer dropped the notebook he was carrying. As he stooped to retrieve it, he asked, “Is Mr. Oliver that stupid that he would leave prints on the ransom notes?”

  “Even the smartest criminals make mistakes,” Theo said. “But based on my personal knowledge of Mr. Oliver, I would say he isn’t that stupid.”

  “At last, the voice of reason,” Nik murmured.

  “I tend to agree,” Parker said. “Otherwise I would not be sharing information so freely with Roman Ol
iver’s defense counsel.”

  For a moment, there was dead silence in the room, and J.C. felt the strain between Nik and his captain ease for the first time. Oddly enough, the tension in the room now seemed to be emanating from Sam Schaeffer. The young man’s knuckles were white where he was gripping his pen.

  “Having said that,” D.C. Parker continued, “I’m obliged to act on the evidence. Roman Oliver came to the church, we believe he fought with Paulo Carlucci, and we know that he shot and killed Gino DeLucca, Paulo’s bodyguard. Sadie Oliver was also at the church, as indicated by her purse, so she could very well be Roman’s accomplice. Given the high-profile nature of the case and the fact that all of this will eventually be leaked to the press, I believe that we have no choice other than to arrest Roman Oliver.”

  J.C. felt Nik’s grip tighten on her shoulders.

  When Parker’s phone rang, Theo moved closer to Nik and spoke in a low voice. “My friend in the D.A.’s office has been reporting to me on the progress of the investigation. I’m pretty sure they won’t arrest him today because the doctors are keeping Roman sedated.”

  “Kit just left for the hospital. What’s Roman’s prognosis?” Nik asked.

  “His father says the doctors were able to relieve the swelling on the base of his spinal cord, and they’re very hopeful. They’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “He didn’t do this, Theo,” Nik said.

  “And we’re going to prove that.” J.C. saw a look pass between the two brothers. Theo’s slow way of talking, his matter-of-fact tone and easy manner, was calming Nik. She felt his hands relax a bit and some of her own tension eased. The only person in the room now who seemed to be wound up tight was Sam Schaeffer.

  NIK STUDIED his brother. “You think it’s a frame?”

  Theo glanced at Parker and then returned his gaze to Nik. “A damn good one.”

  “Do you have any other leads?”

  “I’m working on some. What about you?”

  “I have Rossi Investigations trying to track down how this whole thing is related to that big land deal. It has to be. And alibi or not, Frankie Carlucci is involved and he may not have acted on his own.”

  “Maybe not,” Theo said. “In the meantime, everything is being leaked to the press. Carla Mitchell has already broadcast news about the ransom notes on Channel Five.”

  Nik frowned. “How did that leak out?”

  Theo’s lips curved slightly. “The Feds are handling that piece of the case. You’ll have to ask them. But the same thing will happen here. Both Angelo Carlucci and Mario Oliver will be pushing Commissioner Galvin for information. There were news cameras outside when Sam and I came in. We only avoided them because Frankie and Gina Carlucci were offering an interview.”

  “Dammit,” Nik muttered. “That lowlife is the man J.C. saw shoot Father Mike on the altar.”

  Theo shifted his gaze to J.C. “You’re sure.”

  “I know he’s the one,” J.C. said.

  “Frankie Carlucci isn’t the brightest light in the Carlucci family,” Theo said. “He’s even earned the nickname ‘Fredo,’ based on one of Don Corleone’s sons in The Godfather—the one who was a bit of a bungler.”

  “You’ve done your homework,” Nik commented.

  “My intern is good at research.”

  “Yeah, well if we’re going to use movie analogies, what about Fargo?” J.C. asked. “The killers in that movie were bunglers of the highest order, but they left quite a few bodies in their wake.”

  Sam laughed suddenly. “She’s right.”

  “Thanks,” J.C. said.

  “But for the time being, our boy Frankie has an alibi,” Nik pointed out. He flicked a glance at his captain. Since Parker had picked up the call, he hadn’t said more than two or three words. Nik had a feeling that more bad news was coming.

  “Keep me posted on what you learn from the Rossis,” Theo instructed.

  Nik shifted his gaze to Sam Schaeffer, who was talking to J.C. “Since when do you work with an intern, bro?”

  “I was lucky enough to get Sam this morning. I figure since time is of the essence here, I can use the extra help.”

  “Ms. Riley.” D.C. Parker hung up the phone. “That was your father. He wanted to remind you of the garden party brunch your stepmother is throwing tomorrow. He expects you to be there at noon.”

  “Forget it. It’s too dangerous,” Nik said.

  “Mayor Riley anticipated your reaction, Detective Angelis, and he said to tell you that two agents from Rossi Investigations will be there to provide all the assistance you need. He said you knew them—Cole Buchanan and Pepper Rossi? If you don’t think that will be sufficient, Commissioner Galvin and I will also be in attendance.”

  “I’m supposed to put in an appearance myself,” Theo said.

  “Do I have anything to say about this?” J.C. rose from her chair.

  “Yes,” Nik said. “I think that the choice should be left to J.C.”

  “Your father said that he expects you to be there,” Parker stated. “Was he correct?”

  She hesitated for only one beat before she said, “Yes.”

  “What?” Nik asked. He’d been sure that she’d refuse. “You can’t be serious.”

  J.C. met his eyes. “I have to go. It’s an election year.”

  “J.C.—”

  “Now that we’ve settled that,” Parker said, “this is what I’m going to suggest to you, Detective Angelis. I suggest that you focus your attention totally on protecting Ms. Riley. Are you following me?”

  “Yes, sir.” Nik nodded.

  “Since the man who shot Father Mike is still at large, I’m ordering you to forget about investigating this case and do the job you’ve been assigned.”

  Nik felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter. What Parker was saying was crystal clear to him. The bottom line was that Frankie Carlucci wasn’t going to be arrested anytime soon, so he was free to take shots at J.C. whenever he pleased.

  “I have to go with the evidence, but that doesn’t mean that the case is closed,” Parker said. “Or that I’m not looking objectively at other options. So focus on your job, and let me do mine.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nik replied.

  “That’s all, Detective.”

  14

  “YOU’RE ANGRY with me,” J.C. said as they stepped out of the station.

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’ve just got a bad feeling.”

  “Your thumbs again?”

  “Shit!”

  “What?” J.C. glanced around, but all she saw was a reporter from Channel Five news racing toward them.

  “Nik.” The woman beamed a smile as she stepped into his path. “Be a dear and give me something. I couldn’t get anything from Kit.”

  “You’ve been getting more than you should be getting, Carla.”

  She tossed back her hair and laughed. “What can I say? I’m good at my job.”

  “I don’t have anything.”

  “C’mon. You were first on the scene at the church. For old time’s sake.”

  “No comment.” Grabbing J.C.’s hand, Nik made a move to get around her, but Carla countered it, and her cameraman joined them.

  “Frankie Carlucci says the police have enough evidence to arrest Roman Oliver for murder and kidnapping, but they’re dragging their feet. I’m giving you equal time.”

  “No comment.” This time Nik made it past her.

  Carla did a little double step to keep up. “It’s your case. Give me a crumb, or I’ll have to go with Frankie’s accusation.”

  “It’s not—” J.C. began, then shut up when Nik tightened his grip on her hand.

  Carla shifted her smile to J.C. “I recognize you. You’re Mayor Riley’s daughter, aren’t you? What is your involvement in the case, Ms. Riley?”

  Nik edged J.C. toward the corner. “Ms. Riley is not involved in the case. We’re dating. I’m taking her to dinner. And you can quote me on that.”


  The words had come out on a snarl. Nik was definitely angry at someone. As soon as they’d crossed the street and they were out of the reporter’s earshot, J.C. said, “It’s my father’s garden party, right? That’s what you’re so angry about. I’m sorry, but I have to go to it.”

  “I get it,” Nik muttered. “You think your father needs you. I’d do the same thing in your shoes. It’s your father I’d like to strangle. I’m going to have a little talk with him.”

  “Oh.” Her mind filled with the image of Nik going toe-to-toe with her father. “Maybe not—”

  “Hurry!”

  “My legs are shorter than yours.” She was running to keep up by the time they reached the corner. “Why the rush? And why are we going in this direction? The parking lot is back that way.”

  “I’m doing exactly what Parker told me to do,” Nik said, urging her across the intersection with the rest of the pedestrians. “Making sure that you’re safe. I’m not taking the chance that Frankie Carlucci knows my car by now. And I’m not taking a chance that he might have someone waiting for us in that garage. If you’d like a movie analogy, think of the exploding cars in The Pelican Brief.”

  Swallowing hard, she glanced over her shoulder. “He wouldn’t try something right outside the police station, would he?”

  “He tried something right outside of St. Peter’s Church. You made a good point to Theo. The fact that Frankie’s not very smart doesn’t mean that he can’t be deadly.”

  A little wave of panic rolled through her, and she didn’t object when Nik broke into a run. “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m scaring myself.”

  At the next corner, he pushed her into a fancy coffee shop.

  “We’re stopping for coffee?”

  “We’re stopping so that I can see if we’re being tailed. Order me a large black and get something for yourself that will tide you over until I can feed you.”

  The place was busy, filled to the brim with tourists getting their second wind and shoppers winding down. Nik stayed close while she inched her way along in the line toward the counter, but all the while, he kept his eyes on the door and on the passersby who were clearly visible through plate-glass windows on two sides of the coffee shop.