Police Protector

by Dani Sinclair

  “Is he dangerous?”

  “Yes,” she agreed shortly. “Kip, get under the desk.”

  “Ohmigod.” The man looked frantically around the room as if seeking another exit.

  “What about you?” Kip protested.

  “I’ll be fine.” The man must want Kip and the money.

  “But—”

  “Kip!” Reluctantly, he moved beside the now-terrified assistant manager and slipped down out of sight.

  The room was a trap. Unfortunately, it was too late to make other choices. Kyra opened her purse. Her hand closed over her gun. Useless. Lucan still had the bullets, and she certainly didn’t want to fire it in a theater filled with teenagers. She held it out while digging for the pepper spray.

  “Omigod! Ohmigod!” The little man’s eyes threatened to bulge out of his head. “Don’t shoot me! Please don’t shoot me! I have a dog! She’s going to have puppies in a few days!”

  “Congratulations.” If it hadn’t been so pathetic his words would have been funny. She was afraid he might faint. “Sit down.”

  He collapsed on the seat of his chair like a deflated balloon. The sudden sharp rap on the door made them all jump. He was back on his feet once more.

  “Mr. Garber? Security’s here.”

  Kyra pulled out the pepper spray. There was no way to tell if the kid was being coerced by the man who was looking for them.

  “Tell security to wait out there until the police arrive,” she whispered to the terrified assistant manager.

  He trembled so hard she was sure he’d pass out. His voice quaked, but he parroted her words.

  “Uh, Mr. Garber, are you okay?”

  Kyra gave the teen credit. Unlike his manager, the youth had good instincts. She glared at Garber, willing him to speak.

  “Yes,” he squeaked.

  The boy began speaking to someone. The youth sounded calm, but worried. She doubted his tone would be so even if their pursuer was standing there with him. Still, she held the pepper spray ready to give anyone coming through that door a nasty surprise.

  “This is Wilmott from Security, Mr. Garber. Are you okay in there?”

  “Yes.” His Adam’s apple bobbed frantically in his long, thin neck. With a wild glance at Kyra he added defiantly, “Call the police.”

  Kyra nodded. Obviously puzzled, he gaped at her. There was a squawk on the man’s radio on the other side of the door. His voice was too low a rumble to be understood as he responded.

  “Sir, the police are already on the way.”

  Garber’s expression was triumphant. Kyra smiled at him. For the first time she relaxed a bit. But she didn’t put her pepper spray back in her purse until there was another, solid rap on the door minutes later.

  “Police. Open the door.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lucan arrived to find Kyra sitting behind a scarred old desk in the manager’s chair. She appeared calm and unruffled despite the hands cuffed behind her back. A wide-eyed, silent Kip stood close beside her. Until that moment, Lucan hadn’t noticed how strong the resemblance was between them. She could have been Kip’s mother instead of his aunt.

  They looked up as he entered the small, crowded room. Lucan motioned the uniformed officer outside. “Handcuffs?”

  “The woman was carrying concealed,” the officer announced.

  “You searched her?”

  “After the assistant manager alerted us.”

  “Okay. Wait out here.” He entered and looked from her to the boy. “Hey, Kip. Are you all right?”

  He nodded and if anything, moved even closer to Kyra. “Are they going to arrest us?”

  “No.”

  “Then would you get me out of these?” Kyra asked.

  “I don’t know. It seems to me keeping you under lock and key might be the only way to keep you out of trouble. What do you think, Kip?”

  The hunch of the boy’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. Lucan winked at him and walked over to release the cuffs. “I’m starting to think you have a thing for these.”

  Kyra offered a mock scowl. “I prefer mine velvet-lined with a quick release.”

  He quirked a grin at her unexpected riposte. She rubbed her wrists.

  “I’ll remember that,” he promised. “I did warn you that I didn’t want to see that gun again.”

  “Not my fault.” She shrugged. “The assistant manager saw it when I got the pepper spray out. He told the officers about the gun when I opened the door.”

  “So I was told. What exactly happened?”

  “You tell him,” she urged Kip. “He’ll believe you.”

  Surprised, Kip hesitatingly began to recount the events. Kyra nodded agreement when he finished.

  “Okay. Thanks, Kip. Let’s get out of here. My mother is waiting lunch on us.”

  “As long as it isn’t a hamburger,” she told him, eyeing the congealing, pungent food sitting on the desk in front of her.

  “Yeah,” Kip agreed, making a face.

  “What about my gun?” she asked.

  “I’ll hold on to it for awhile, unless you want to meet the entire force, one by one.” Her glower reminded him of his mother’s.

  “And my pepper spray?”

  He handed her the small canister the officer had given him, then helped Kip gather up their bags.

  “I’ll carry those for you.”

  “We can manage.”

  “Beyond a doubt, but why not let me play mule?”

  She smiled fully. “When you put it that way—load him up, Kip.”

  Kip’s face lit in a real smile for the first time. Kyra gave Lucan a grateful glance as Kip handed over the rest of the packages.

  The assistant manager stood outside the door behind the concession stand when they exited. He eyed them sourly. Kyra paused to address him. “Sorry for all the trouble. Good luck with your puppies.”

  The man’s face reddened and he turned away.

  “What was that all about?” Lucan asked.

  “His dog’s pregnant,” Kip volunteered.

  Kyra merely shrugged, crossing to where Todd stood with the two uniforms. “Detective Berringer. I didn’t realize you were here, too.”

  “I was with Lucan when you called.”

  “Sorry I had to interrupt.”

  “No problem. Are we set?” he asked Lucan.

  “Good to go. Thanks, guys.” The uniforms nodded and moved off. Lucan turned to Kyra. “Where are you parked?”

  “Almost directly in front of Macy’s.”

  “Give Todd your keys and he’ll follow with your car. You and Kip can ride with me.”

  She met his gaze. Understanding flashed in her expression. Kyra realized what he didn’t want to say in front of Kip. There was a possibility her car was being watched. She handed over her keys with a word of thanks to Todd.

  “Sure you don’t want to go for X-rays on that ankle?” he asked as she limped beside him.

  “Positive. It’s just bruised. It’s going to hurt for a few days, that’s all.”

  Her cell phone rang as they reached the car. She groaned as she saw the caller ID. “Excuse me a minute. If I don’t take this, he’ll just keep calling.” Looking away, she answered her phone. “Simon? What’s up?” She slid a glance at Lucan. He made a point of turning around to be sure Kip was buckled in.

  “You aren’t! Dulles? Why?” A faint blush stained her cheeks. Lucan started the car, wishing he could hear more than the rumble of a man’s voice.

  “That’s very nice of you, but…” Her color deepened. She slid another glance his way.

  “Simon, I can’t! I’m staying with someone.” She clutched the phone more tightly.

  Lucan decided right then that he didn’t like Simon.

  “No. Simon. Simon!”

  Obviously, Simon had disconnected. Lucan had seen Kyra stressed and upset, but he’d never seen her rattled before. She was rattled now. She wouldn’t meet his eyes and she picked her words with care.

  “That was
…a friend of mine. He’s coming to town. He wants to help.”

  “How?” Lucan asked flatly.

  “I have no idea.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with a fist. “You’ll like him.” Her voice was flat. “Everyone does.”

  Lucan doubted that. “My mother’s house only has three empty bedrooms,” he cautioned her, aware of Kip listening in the back seat.

  “Oh, don’t worry, he’ll stay in a hotel.”

  Alone? he wanted to ask. “This Simon have a last name?”

  “Testier. Simon Testier. He works with me at Dowling.”

  “So he’s a lawyer, too?”

  She shook her head. “He’s strictly recovery. When art or jewelry or whatever one of our clients has insured goes missing, it’s our job to recover the item or arrange for its return.”

  “In other words, you’re both insurance investigators.”

  She frowned. “What we do is somewhat unique.”

  “Uh-huh.” He was going to run a check on both Simon Testier and Dowling Limited. After all, there could be a connection to what Kyra did for a living and her sister’s disappearance somehow.

  “So Testier is a close friend of yours?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. That was answer enough. Someone as smart and attractive as Kyra was bound to have a lover.

  “You might want to warn him about carrying concealed,” he added before she could respond to his question.

  “He’s flying in from Germany on a commercial flight. We don’t carry weapons on planes. You won’t need your handcuffs.”

  “You never know.” He could always hope.

  THE AROMA OF BAKING chocolate and vanilla laced with cinnamon filled his mother’s house. She greeted Kyra like an old friend and hustled her and Kip upstairs along with the other two children to select bedrooms.

  Todd arrived a short time later with Kyra’s car. He inhaled deeply and smiled blissfully. “I love your mother. If I thought she’d have me, I’d propose just to come home to smells like this every day.”

  “Don’t even go there or I’ll shoot you with your own gun.”

  Todd made a face. “You don’t know how good you have it. My mother’s so health-conscious, the last time she baked cookies was two years ago. Tell me we’re going to stay for lunch,” Todd pleaded.

  Kyra started down the stairs. Lucan turned to watch her. “We’re going to stay for lunch.”

  “I don’t think she’s on the menu,” Todd whispered.

  Lucan glared a warning. “Her boyfriend’s on his way to Dulles as we speak.” As she approached he asked in a normal tone, “Any trouble in the parking lot?”

  Todd didn’t miss a beat. “Nope. No watchers I could spot and no one tailed me.”

  “I’m not sure that’s good. I’d like to know what they wanted.”

  “Probably the money Kip found,” Kyra pointed out.

  “How would they know he found it?”

  “Maybe the same way you did.”

  Lucan considered. It was possible the men had been looking for the children as potential witnesses, but it didn’t feel right.

  “We’ll go have a talk with the manager at the golf club after lunch,” Lucan told Todd.

  His friend shook his head. “Walsh wants me back on the Nestler woman’s murder and the Fisk robbery. I need to interview the dead woman’s housekeeper again and talk to some of Fisk’s neighbors. You’re on your own this afternoon.”

  “I can go with you,” Kyra offered.

  “This is police business,” Lucan replied.

  “Doesn’t your police department have a citizen’s ride-along program?”

  “That’s for uniforms, not detectives.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I might be able to help.”

  “You have a friend coming, remember?”

  Her eyes narrowed. Todd interjected. “You shouldn’t be driving around town on your own right now, Ms. Wolfstead. Since you were followed to the mall, someone knows your car. Your out-of-state plate’s too easy to spot.”

  “Todd’s right. You need to stay out of sight until we can figure out what’s going on. I’m going to see about putting your car in my mother’s garage.”

  The light of battle gleamed in her eyes. Fortunately, his mother came down the steps before she could retort.

  “Hello, Todd, I thought I heard your voice.”

  “Mrs. O’Shay, it’s good to see you again.”

  “Where are the kids?” Lucan asked.

  “The lads are checking out the air hockey game.”

  Todd’s expression lit up. “Your mom has an air hockey game?”

  “It used to be mine.”

  His mother beamed at Todd. “You’ll be staying for lunch then. It will be ready in five minutes. You lads go and wash up while I set another place.”

  “I’ll give you a hand, Maureen,” Kyra offered with a glare that let Lucan know they’d be having words when she got him alone.

  The women disappeared into the kitchen. Lucan turned to find Todd watching him. “She’s a looker.”

  “She’s part of a case.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “Go wash your hands.”

  Todd looked smug as he headed for the tiny hall bathroom. Lucan was annoyed that his attraction to Kyra was so transparent. He barely admitted it to himself. He liked her sense of humor and her ability to think on her feet, and she was attractive. Far too attractive for his comfort level.

  He banished the memory of holding her soft foot in his hand because that was just weird. He’d never been turned on by a foot before. Yet he’d nearly kissed her.

  And she would have let him. The attraction wasn’t all one-sided. But she had a boyfriend and he had a job to do. Once this case was concluded he’d never see her again.

  The knowledge was depressing.

  LUCAN WAS USHERED INTO the impressive main office of the Oak Forest Country Club where a well-tailored man rose to greet him.

  “Detective O’Shay, I’m Louis Ventner, the general manager. How may I help you?”

  “Mr. Ventner. I’d like to speak with Jordan Fillmont.”

  The man had a great poker face. “Frankly, Detective, so would I. I assume this has to do with his missing wife?”

  So far they had managed to keep the details from the media, but they’d released the fact that Casey was missing and sent out a photograph. The burglary and murder of wealthy heiress Shereen Nestler still had most of the media attention along with most of the force’s manpower, so he wasn’t surprised that Ventner knew about Casey.

  “When was the last time you saw Mr. Fillmont?”

  “I personally spoke with him on Saturday morning. Jordan ran our pro shop. He booked tee times, scheduled our golf, tennis and fitness pros, maintained inventory at the shop and that sort of thing. He’s a personable man, which made him popular with our members. Until Saturday afternoon I would have called him an exemplary employee.”

  Lucan noted his use of past tense. “What changed on Saturday afternoon?”

  Ventner paused to consider before speaking. “According to Alice—that’s Alice Drubowski, she works with him on weekends—according to her, Jordan abruptly announced he was feeling ill and left. Calls to his cell phone and home telephone have gone unanswered since then.”

  Lucan paused to consider. “Did Mr. Fillmont handle money for your club?”

  Ventner’s gaze narrowed. “Only the cash register in the pro shop. We have an accounting department that handles our main finances.”

  “I take it Mr. Fillmont won’t be welcomed back?”

  Venture leaned forward. “Not without a superior excuse. No, Detective, he won’t be welcomed back. Does he have a superior excuse?”

  “As soon as I find him, I’ll let you know. Would it be possible for me to speak with Ms. Drubowski?”

  “Of course.” He hit an intercom button on his telephone. “Ralph, ask Robby to cover the pro shop and have Alice report to my office immediat
ely, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alice Drubowski was an athletic-looking middle-aged woman with a wide, friendly smile that displayed a set of crooked front teeth.

  “Jordan’s easy to work with,” she told Lucan. “Everyone likes to stop by and chat with him. That’s part of his job, but he’s exceptionally good at it.”

  “Does he pay more attention to, say, the female members than—?”

  “No, sir. Nothing like that. He never crosses the line, even with the young ones who like to flirt. Mr. Ventner wouldn’t stand for it and neither would I. Jordan asks members how their game went, how their families are doing and what’s new in their lives. You know, routine things.”

  Lucan nodded. “What happened on Saturday, Ms. Drubowski?”

  “Well, that was odd, I can tell you.” She frowned. “We’d been real busy and hit a lull. Jordan looked out the window and got this horrified expression on his face. He turned to me and said, ‘Alice, I need to leave, I’m sick,’ then he bolted out the back door. I thought he ate something that disagreed with him.”

  “Did he look ill?”

  “Yes, sir, he did. He was real pale. Bill—that’s Bill Jaff, our golf pro—came in with some new guy he was showing around and I asked him to check on Jordan when he got back to the main building. That’s where I thought he’d gone, because the pro shop doesn’t have a bathroom.”

  “Was Mr. Fillmont looking at Mr. Jaff or anyone else in particular when he stared out the window?”

  “I couldn’t say. I remember he waved to the Cassios and the Martins. Mr. Markham and his partner were walking past on their way to the tennis courts. There were a lot of people out there, Detective. Saturday was a gorgeous day and the club was busy. All this unseasonable air has brought people out.”

  “You’re open all year around?”

  “Yes, sir. Is it true Mr. Fillmont’s wife is missing, too?”

  Lucan nodded. “Did anything unusual happen right before Mr. Fillmont left?”

  “Not really. We had to call the new greens keeper over to fix the flower bed outside the shop after Mrs. Liu ran over it in her golf cart again, but that happens pretty regularly. You’d think they’d just take it out, but it is pretty, even at this time of year. They change the plants with the season, you know.”