The Cop

by Cara Summers

  “She’s quite amazing,” Uncle Chad said. “When she took my hands a few minutes ago, it was as if certain things that I’d been thinking about and putting off just fell into place.”

  Was that what had happened to her, J.C. wondered.

  “It will be fine,” Cass said as she released Alicia’s hands.

  J.C. noted that her stepmother didn’t seem quite that convinced.

  “We need to talk some more,” Alicia said in a brisk voice. Then she turned to J.C. “Jude Catherine, could you go up to the kitchen and ask the caterer to bring out more food? The tables need to be replenished, and I really need to talk to Cass for a moment longer.”

  “Sure.” J.C. glanced over, intending to signal Nik to join her, but Frankie Carlucci and her father blocked her view of him for the moment. Her news would certainly keep, she thought as she hurried toward the porch steps. She was halfway up when one of the waitstaff pushed through the back door.

  “Excuse me, miss.” J.C. stepped back to let him pass her with a loaded tray. It would seem that the caterer was already on top of things, and for a moment, she debated even completing her errand. A glance over her shoulder told her Cole and Pepper hadn’t followed her. They’d moved to a line of trees at the edge of the lawn and they seemed to be deep in conversation with the two men Cole Buchanan had introduced earlier as Luke and Matt Rossi. She knew that the two Rossi brothers had been assigned to mingle with the guests and keep an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious, as well as for possible snipers. They were probably reporting in.

  Well, she’d deliver Alicia’s message quickly. Surely, she’d be safe in her own home. Especially, since Frankie boy was otherwise occupied for the moment. As the porch door swung shut behind her, J.C. took a moment to let her eyes adjust. After the bright sunshine in the garden, the back hallway was dark. Through an archway straight ahead, she could see two of the waitstaff loading trays and wondered again at the errand that Alicia had sent her on. The caterer seemed to have everything under control.

  She was turning to go back outside when Gina Carlucci stepped out of the shadows and pressed a gun into her side.

  17

  “WE’RE GOING TO WALK through the kitchen and go out the front door,” Gina said in her breathy Marilyn Monroe voice. “And don’t even think of screaming or I’ll shoot one of the waiters. You wouldn’t want me to do that, would you?”

  J.C. felt fear settle into a ball in her stomach. Gina was standing close enough that she could read the truth of what she’d just said in her eyes. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

  From the garden, she heard a scream, followed by shouts.

  “Move,” Gina whispered softly. “Your bodyguards are going to be busy for the next few minutes. A little girl just fell into the pool. Those big brave men won’t want her to drown.”

  Gina was right. Nik, Cole and the rest of the Rossis would be heading right for the pool. J.C.’s mind was racing as they moved through the kitchen. Gina stuck close, concealing the gun with a sweater she’d thrown over her arm. No one paid them any heed. J.C. couldn’t even catch anyone’s eye. Nik, she thought, I hope your thumbs are falling off.

  They made it out of the house and halfway across the lawn faster than J.C. would have liked, so she stumbled and fell to one knee.

  “Uh, uh, uh,” Gina breathed. “No tricks. Get up and keep moving unless you want me to put a bullet into your spine.”

  Rising, J.C. felt the press of metal into her back.

  “The car we’re going to take is right over there. I can easily drag you that far.”

  As they moved forward, Gina went on. “Frankie hot-wired it, so it’s all ready for us. It’ll take your bodyguards a while to figure out which car is missing and put out the plate number. Wasn’t that smart of him? He does have a pretty good idea every once in a while. Get in.”

  Following Gina’s directions, J.C. opened the passenger door and climbed over into the driver’s seat. Then Gina said, “Drive.”

  Stall, she thought. J.C. put the car into Reverse and spent as much time as she dared wiggling it out of the parking space. “What is going on here, Gina?”

  “I’m kidnapping you.”

  “You’ll never get away with it. Someone will remember seeing you leave with me.” J.C. prayed that was true.

  “No matter. I’m being kidnapped, too. That’s the beauty of the plan. And when the ransom is paid, I’ll be released and you won’t.”

  Yeah, like that’s going to work, J.C. thought and tried another tack. “Why are you kidnapping me?”

  “For money. Why else?” Gina said. “Turn right at the end of the drive.”

  Money, the root of all evil, J.C. thought. In the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of Nik running around the corner of the house. The Rossis, Theo and Cole Buchanan were right behind him. She managed to flash the emergency lights when she signaled for the right turn.

  Nik was coming with the cavalry. She could trust him. Her job now was to distract Gina.

  “But aren’t you going to get enough money for returning Juliana and Paulo?”

  The sound Gina made was nearly a snort. “That was the original plan. And it was supposed to be so easy. All Frankie had to do was go to the church. Gino DeLucca would let him in, he’d get rid of the priest, then he and Gino would kidnap the little bride and groom. Piece of cake. That’s what Frankie said. That’s what he always says.”

  J.C. glanced in the rearview mirror. No one was following. “Why did Frankie need the money?”

  “Angelo.” Gina’s tone was bitter. “He’s depending on Frankie to come up with at least five million in cash to close that big land deal. It’s their only chance to shut the Olivers out. Angelo says that it’s time Frankie stepped up to the plate and took some responsibility for the family business. He’s always comparing Frankie to Mario Oliver’s kids, saying how bright Roman is and how even a girl like Sadie is going to be such an asset to the family. Angelo has never given Frankie the respect he deserves. Helping out with the land deal is Frankie’s big chance to prove he can be an asset, too. Otherwise, in a few more years, Angelo will turn everything over to his son Paulo. Frankie and I will be left out in the cold.”

  “I see,” J.C. said. And she thought she was beginning to.

  “Angelo thinks Frankie is just a pretty face. No brains. And Frankie does have brains, you know.”

  Not sure what to say to that, J.C. nodded. “But Frankie didn’t have the money to lay out for the land deal?”

  “Right. Frankie’s got this little weakness for gambling. And then he tried to raise the money by gambling some more.”

  “And that didn’t work,” J.C. said, glancing again in the rearview mirror. No Nik.

  “If Angelo had just given him more respect and more to do in the business, he wouldn’t have had so much free time on his hands.”

  “So Frankie’s in serious debt?”

  “Yeah. And Angelo doesn’t know anything about Frankie’s debts in Las Vegas. He’d have a fit. And the man who lent Frankie money in Vegas—Sammy DeCarlo—he wants his money back. So now poor Frankie has two people pressuring him for cash. Angelo and Sammy.”

  Poor Frankie? J.C. was hard-pressed not to snort herself. She shot Gina a look and when their eyes met, she was glad she’d stifled it. What she saw confirmed her suspicion that she wasn’t just dealing with a dumb blonde. There was anger, irritation and a scary kind of determination in the young woman’s eyes.

  “What exactly did Frankie say happened at the church?” J.C. slowly eased her foot off the gas pedal and prayed that the traffic light ahead of her would turn red.

  “You should know. The plan turned to shit, and Frankie says part of it was your fault. Gino DeLucca was the only person other than Paulo and Juliana and the priest who was supposed to be at that wedding. No one said anything about you being there. And then Roman Oliver shows up and ruins everything. Frankie is in such deep trouble now.”

  J.C. thought of Roman lying
in the hospital about to be arrested for murder and kidnapping, and decided that if there were a continuum for being in “deep trouble,” Roman must be pretty close to Frankie along that line.

  “Hey!” Gina jabbed the gun into her side. “Put the pedal to the metal and make that light.”

  J.C. did what she was told. There was a car behind her now, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t Nik behind the wheel. Where was he? “But you can still get the ransom money for returning Juliana and Paulo.”

  Gina made a snort. “That was Plan A. I told you that plan went to shit.”

  J.C. flicked a glance at Gina, wondering if fear was numbing her brain. “How exactly did it go to shit?”

  Gina looked at her as if she were the slow one. “You can’t very well collect a ransom if you don’t have proof of life. I told Frankie that the FBI always asks for that. So I came up with Plan B. Kidnapping you. This way when the FBI asks for proof that you’re alive, we can cut off a finger or a toe and send it to them.”

  Swallowing hard, J.C. barely missed sideswiping a parked car. Since she didn’t like thinking about losing a finger or a toe, she concentrated on the beginning of Gina’s explanation. “You don’t have proof of life because you’ve already killed Juliana and Paulo?”

  “No. I told you that Frankie’s plan went to shit.” Gina spoke the words slowly as if she were speaking to a small child. “Frankie never got to do the kidnapping thing, thanks to you and Roman. Frankie was trying to find you when the damn cop arrived, and then he had to make himself scarce. Those two little shits could be honeymooning in Cancún for all I know.” Gina’s voice was now more shrill than breathy. “Because of you and the cop, they skipped out. I should never have trusted Frankie to handle the plan. There are days when he can’t chew gum and walk at the same time, you know? I should have hired a stunt double for the charity ball, and then we’d have the money by now. Angelo would be happy. Sammy DeCarlo in Vegas would be happy, and I could have a baby. Frankie promised me a baby when this was all over, and now he’s nearly ruined everything.”

  J.C. sent Gina another assessing look. Part of her mind was focused on what she was going to do to save herself, so maybe that was why she was having trouble following Gina. They were approaching another traffic light, and this time she was going to be more subtle about slowing the car. “Is it really fair to blame Frankie for the screwup? What about the guys he sent up to the choir loft? They screwed up, too, if they let the bride and groom get away.”

  Gina took her gaze off the road for a minute. “What are you talking about? The only man Frankie had helping him was Gino DeLucca, and Roman Oliver killed him.”

  “There were at least two other guys at the church. The police arrested them yesterday afternoon.”

  Gina’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

  Keeping her eyes on the road, J.C. said, “I have no reason to lie. And someone sent a ransom note to the two families. Haven’t you been watching the news?”

  “We’ve been busy,” Gina said. “We had to come up with a new plan. And Frankie was so focused on trying to kill you.”

  J.C. had half a block to go, and the light ahead of her was amber. This time she was going to stop.

  “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Gina fumed. “It’s that Roman Oliver. He’s got them. Frankie is going to be so upset about this.”

  “Someone pushed Roman down the stairs. He’s in the hospital.” J.C. pressed her foot gently on the brake. “Why do you think he’s behind the kidnapping?”

  “Those other two guys must have been with him. Obviously, they went ahead with the kidnapping plan. If Frankie had just thought of bringing people with him, our plan would have worked. We’d have the money right now.”

  The light ahead turned yellow. As she braked the car, J.C.’s stomach sank. Gina’s explanation sounded way too logical. And then she saw Nik sitting in the car on the side street to her right. If she wasn’t mistaken, Theo’s car was on the side street to her left. And she was pretty sure that the Rossi brothers were in the car coming toward her. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw another car closing the distance behind her. Most likely Cole Buchanan.

  They were going to cut her off, she figured. The plan was probably to surround the car and talk Gina into surrendering.

  She wasn’t sure how Gina would react. The woman wasn’t a totally dumb blonde, and she was focused on her mission. She wanted her husband out of trouble, she wanted money and she wanted a baby. J.C. didn’t think anyone was going to convince her that she couldn’t accomplish her goal.

  Heck, Gina might decide to pull the trigger just because Frankie wanted her dead. Dumb or not, Gina was operating on emotion, not rationality. J.C. only had seconds to make her decision.

  The light turned red, and J.C. saw Nik start through the intersection. At the last minute, instead of stopping, she floored the gas pedal and jerked the wheel to the left, aiming at the front of the Rossis’ car.

  “Hey, what are you—”

  Satisfied that Gina was momentarily distracted, J.C. lifted one hand off the steering wheel and shoved her gun hand aside. Then her car skidded into Theo’s and went into a spin.

  This was not part of her plan. J.C. jerked forward and felt the seat belt snap her back. All she’d intended to do was hit Theo’s car hard enough to distract Gina and get the gun away. Now she’d lost control. Cole’s car grazed her rear bumper and added to the momentum. It was like riding on a very fast merry-go-round. Tires squealed, rubber smoked and Gina screamed. The gun exploded. J.C.’s ears rang with the sound as she jerked forward again. This time pain exploded in her head.

  Then everything went black.

  WHEN J.C. SURFACED, her mind was a bit fuzzy. But she knew that she was in a hospital room. The IV dripping into her right arm was a dead giveaway. Outside the window, the sky was dark, but there was enough light from a lamp for her to see that her right wrist was in a cast. Not a good sign. She must have been in an accident.

  Some of the details flooded back then, the noises, the scents, even the horrible spinning sensation. She kept her eyes open, afraid that if she closed them, she would black out again. To prevent that, she made herself look around the room.

  She wasn’t alone. A pretty blonde sat in a chair near the window, sewing beads into a piece of silk. Drew Merriweather, the wedding dress designer, she recalled.

  Another woman with short dark hair leaned against the doorjamb, her gaze on the TV hanging from the ceiling in the corner. Pepper Rossi, J.C. thought, and on the TV screen, Carla what’s-her-name, the Channel Five news reporter, was chattering on about something. The volume was too low to catch much, but the headline beneath the pretty reporter read Kidnapping Plot Foiled.

  Suddenly, as if a door had flown open, everything came pouring back into J.C.’s mind. “Nik?” She tried to lever herself up, and winced with pain.

  “He’s fine.” Drew reached her first and laid a hand on her arm that wasn’t in a cast. “He’s with Kit and Theo and Captain Parker.”

  Relieved, J.C. turned to Pepper. “Cole and your brothers?”

  “They’re fine,” Pepper assured her. “You were the one who suffered the most damage.”

  At the question in J.C.’s eyes, she continued, “You have a broken wrist and a mild concussion.” She paused to grin down at her. “You look like hell, but you took that crazy blonde down.”

  “Is she…?” J.C. winced as she searched her mind for more details. The gun had gone off. That much she remembered very clearly.

  “Don’t worry,” Pepper said. “Gina Carlucci has a black eye, nothing serious enough to keep her from singing her lungs out to everyone who’ll listen. Frankie Carlucci has lawyered up, but according to Cole, Gina is willing to serve him up on a silver platter.”

  “I guess she’s decided to cut her losses,” J.C. said. “She claimed that all she wanted out of this was a baby.”

  Drew and Pepper stared at her.

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just not pretty
when you consider what she and Frankie might have produced in the way of offspring.” Another thought occurred to her. “I need to talk to Nik. Frankie hired a stunt double to take his place at the charity ball. I know the name of the company that he probably used.”

  “Relax.” Drew patted her hand. “There’ll be time enough for that.”

  “Gina’s probably already given the police that information, anyway,” Pepper said. “We’re supposed to see that you don’t get upset and that you rest.” She wrinkled her nose. “While the men do manly stuff.”

  J.C. frowned, but when the pain on her forehead blossomed, she thought better of it. “Gina swears that she and Frankie didn’t kidnap Paulo and Juliana and that they didn’t send the ransom notes. She’s convinced that Roman is behind the kidnapping because he ruined their plan.” One look at Pepper’s and Drew’s faces confirmed her fear. “That’s what Nik and Kit and Theo are talking to Captain Parker about, isn’t it? They’re still going to arrest Roman, aren’t they?”

  Before either of the other women could answer, there was a knock on the door, and J.C. noted that Pepper drew a gun. “Who is it?”

  “Sam Schaeffer,” said a voice on the other side of the door.

  Tucking her gun back in her jacket pocket, Pepper opened the door, and Sam entered.

  He glanced quickly around. “I’m sorry. I know I’m intruding. I just need a minute.”

  “What is it?” J.C. asked. Sam looked about as bad as she felt. His face was pale, and there were circles under his eyes. In the lamplight, she suddenly noticed how fragile the young man looked. “Sit down,” she urged.

  Pepper immediately nudged Sam toward the chair that Drew had vacated earlier.

  “I won’t stay long,” he said.

  “You’re upset. Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Drew asked.