Police Protector

by Dani Sinclair

  Tilting his head in question at the serious expression on her face, he waited. “Like what?”

  “We need to find out who Robby Krinegolt is.”

  The name was familiar but he couldn’t immediately place it. “Who?”

  “Someone who works at the country club. Casey told me Jordan hung out with him.”

  That brought him to his feet. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “I intended to, but you sidetracked me, if you’ll recall. Do you know who he is?”

  Lucan nodded. “Yeah, I met him. Mid twenties, five-eleven, brown hair, small scar on his left cheek. He’s a bartender, waiter, errand boy.”

  “Casey said Jordan hung out with him. He even called the house a few times. Do you think he could have been working with Jordan?” She pulled on her sweater.

  “It’s worth checking him out.” Lucan was already reaching for his cell phone.

  “This better be a friendly call,” Todd warned as he answered. “I’m off duty.”

  “Put in for overtime. White was friends with Robby Krinegolt at the country club. I think he may be the second man who shot at Kyra.”

  “What?”

  “Pick me up. I’ll explain on the way. I need to call and get an address on him.” He disconnected and called the Oak Forest Country Club. The woman who answered told him they were closed for the day and Mr. Ventner wasn’t there. When Lucan persisted, his assistant, Ralph Montgomery, agreed to take the call.

  Lucan identified himself and explained what he wanted.

  “Is there a problem, Detective? Robby’s an excellent employee.”

  “No. Just routine. I need to ask him a few questions.”

  Montgomery sounded concerned, but he gave Lucan an address in Olney. By the time Lucan finished, Kyra was nowhere in sight. He found her completely dressed and puttering around in the kitchen making coffee.

  Lucan walked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. Pulling her against him, he kissed the top of her head.

  “You should probably eat something before you leave,” she told him, snuggling into the embrace.

  Holding her felt so right Lucan hated to release her. She turned to face him. “There’s no time,” he told her. “Todd will be here shortly.” He tensed, watching her face closely. “Will you be here when I get back?”

  “Oh, I expect so. I called Casey. Your mother is certain you’re going to starve to death if she doesn’t feed you so she’s coming by with a meal.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she added, “She offered to bring my nightgown and a change of clothing. I think my sister was scandalized.”

  Relief flooded him. Kyra wasn’t upset that he was leaving. “Are you scandalized as well?”

  “Not really. Maybe a little surprised, but Maureen’s house is getting a bit crowded. I don’t think she realized what she was taking on when she invited the Wolfstead clan to move in with her.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I think she’s matchmaking. My mother likes you.”

  “Your mother would probably like anyone willing to take on the care and feeding of her last unmarried son. She’s probably tired of sending you care packages all the time.”

  He grinned back at her. “There is that.” He sobered. “I don’t know how soon I’ll be back.”

  Her hand caressed his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. If I fall asleep you can wake me. Maybe we’ll even give your bed a try.”

  Relief swept him. She wasn’t angry. She understood. Or was it because she had a personal stake in this case?

  She kissed him lightly. “Go get your man, Detective.”

  He stood very still. Searching her expression, he saw only love there. He remembered the last time a woman had looked at him like that, but Kyra wasn’t Bess. A car horn honked out front.

  “I believe that’s your ride, Detective.” She brushed his mouth with her lips. “You’d better go.”

  “Yes.” He needed to go.

  THE ADDRESS IN OLNEY was a house that belonged to Robby’s mother. A heavy-set woman with a perpetual scowl answered the door.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am.” Lucan flipped open his badge. “I’m Detective—”

  She didn’t even glance at it. “If you’re looking for Robby go around to the back. He lives in the basement and he has his own door so his friends don’t bother me.” She glared at the two of them.

  “Yes, ma’am, we—”

  “I don’t go down there,” she interrupted.

  “We just—”

  She went on as if he hadn’t tried to speak. “But he isn’t home. You can see his van’s gone.” She nodded toward the rutted driveway. “I heard his phone ring a while ago.”

  “Do you know—”

  “You can go and wait if you want.”

  “Uh, we were hoping—”

  “My show’s coming on. I have to go.”

  Lucan and Todd exchanged looks as she shut the door in their faces. “Thank you, ma’am,” he told the door.

  “Pleasant sort,” Todd commented. “Think that last comment was an invitation for us to go in and have a look around?”

  “I think it could be loosely interpreted that way.”

  Sliding-glass doors had been replaced with a traditional door. The deadbolt hadn’t been set so it was easy to pop it open. The basement was a mess. It was quite obvious from the takeout-food wrappers, cans of soda and beer scattered around that Mrs. Krinegolt really meant it when she said she never came down here. In one corner was a stack of items Lucan was pretty sure would match the things stolen in the last two robberies. Among them was a monogrammed set of golf clubs.

  “The initials match the Fisk job,” Todd told him as he strolled among the debris looking for whatever he could find. “I think we hit pay dirt.”

  “In more ways than one,” Lucan confirmed. “Never underestimate the stupidity of a criminal.” He held up a pad of paper sitting beside the telephone. While he didn’t recognize the number, he recognized the name written beneath it. Paul Atteril was a known fence.

  Todd shook his head. “This is too easy. We need to get out and call it in.”

  Lucan nodded absently. There was a scribbled notation beneath Paul’s name. Apprehension chased down his spine at the words.

  Jordan caught? Find the woman!

  “What’s wrong, Lucan?”

  Lucan grabbed the phone. He scrolled through the caller ID to see who the last caller had been. His heart sank, unsurprised to see Oak Forest come up.

  “There may be another player.” Lucan handed him the pad of paper. “Montgomery called and warned him.”

  “Ventner’s assistant?”

  “Yeah. He reluctantly gave me the address when I told him I was looking for Robby. We need to get someone to my mother’s place right now!”

  FULL DARK HAD SETTLED over the street before Casey and Maureen arrived bearing leftovers. Technically, Maureen arrived at Lucan’s house with the food since Casey only had the one arm and was still limping painfully thanks to her bad knee. As Kyra helped them carry the food inside, they explained they’d left the children playing board games with Lucan’s brother and sister-in-law.

  “Who are we feeding here? An army?”

  “Have ye not seen my lads tuck into a meal?” Maureen asked.

  “Point taken. I don’t know what’s in this casserole, but it smells great. Lucan had to go out for a bit, but he should be back shortly.”

  Maureen’s forehead pleated. “Does the man never stop? He’s supposed to be resting.”

  Kyra smiled and shrugged. “He’s a cop.”

  “An’ that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Being in a somewhat related line of work myself, I understand. Cops can’t punch a clock like some people.”

  “Bess didn’t like it.”

  Kyra remembered that was the name of Lucan’s first wife. “People need different things in their lives, Maureen. Being a cop is what Lucan loves. I’m fine with that.”

  Mauree
n’s smile took years off her face. “I’ve waited a long time for him to find someone like you, lass.”

  Kyra felt a blush staining her cheeks. She wasn’t sure exactly how to respond so she settled for a simple, “Thank you.”

  “You aren’t serious about Lucan?” Casey protested. “I mean, he’s a great guy and everything, but I nearly killed him with Kip’s baseball bat!”

  “The stuff family legends are made of,” Maureen told her cheerfully.

  Kyra smiled. “I love him.”

  Her sister gaped. “You just met him. And you hate arrogant, bossy men! He’s a cop! Those traits come with the badge.”

  “And can be put aside when the badge comes off.”

  “And I’m thinkin’ my Lucan has met his match with your sister,” Maureen stated.

  “But she’s only known him a few days!”

  “True,” Kyra agreed.

  “I knew the moment I clamped eyes on my Mitchell that I wanted to spend my life with him.”

  Casey ignored Maureen’s comment but must have realized she was gaping again. She closed her mouth with a snap. “That’s it? True? That’s all you can say? For crying out loud, you live in Boston!”

  Kyra lost her smile. She touched her sister’s shoulder. “I swore if I got you back alive I’d make changes in my life. Even if I hadn’t fallen in love with Lucan, I’d already decided to move here to be closer to you. Casey, your kids didn’t even know me. We’re family and I’ve been woefully neglectful of that. But I want a chance for us to be closer. I already love your children. I want to be part of their lives. You know, the wacky aunt who buys them presents and spoils them rotten? E-mails and phone calls aren’t enough.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Casey shook her head. “What about your job?”

  “I can get another job.”

  “Not doing the sort of work you’ve been doing.”

  She shrugged. “It’s time for a change there as well. I’m tired of all the traveling. I have an apartment I never see. I want a home and maybe someday a family of my own.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about welcome to the neighborhood?” Kyra smiled again. “And if either of you happen to know of anyone looking to hire a lawyer with international law and insurance work in their background…”

  She hugged her sister close. “It’s going to be okay. I promise, Casey. No matter what happens with Lucan, I’m here to stay. Did you bring me a change of clothing?” she asked Maureen.

  “Your bag is on the floor behind the driver’s side.”

  “You’re really going to stay here?” Casey demanded.

  “Well, it’s getting a bit crowded at Maureen’s, wouldn’t you say? As long as you’re okay with this.” She looked at the older woman.

  “Lucan’s a grown man, an’ yer both old enough to know your own minds.” Maureen’s smile lit her face once more. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  Kyra was still smiling as she retrieved her suitcase. But a van coming down the street started to drive past and slowed. The driver gaped at her. He braked hard, throwing his passenger against the seatbelt. Kyra didn’t wait to see more. There was a scar on the driver’s left cheek. She fled back into the house.

  “The men who shot at me are outside! We have to run!”

  “I can’t run on this knee, Kyra!” Casey crossed to the fireplace and hefted a poker. “But I’m pretty good with a baseball bat. This should make a fair substitute.”

  “They have guns!”

  “So did Lucan.”

  Maureen ran to the kitchen and returned holding a heavy metal skillet, a can of oven spray and a portable phone. She thrust the can at Kyra as she pressed 911. “’Tis not that pepper spray stuff ye used, but ’t’ will burn the eyes just the same. We need the police,” she said into the phone. “Two killers are breaking into our house.”

  And they were out of time and out of choices. The men were running up onto the porch.

  Casey took a stand on the far side of the door. The poker was clutched in her good right hand. Maureen dropped the phone and moved alongside her holding the skillet. There was nothing else to be done. Kyra stood facing the door. She pointed the container of oven spray and prayed for a miracle.

  The door flew inward on the second kick. Casey swung the poker with all her might as the first man rushed inside. The crunch sounded unnaturally loud. The man yelled as she hit him again and he went sprawling. His gun discharged harmlessly into the wall over the fireplace.

  Maureen brought the pan down on the second man’s head with a dull, thunking sound while Kyra leaped forward, spraying the oven cleaner directly into his face.

  He flinched away. That was his mistake. Casey swung the poker once again. The pointed, slightly hooked end struck his gun hand. Kyra heard bones crunch as he screamed, shrill and loud. The gun fell from useless fingers.

  Maureen had picked up the first man’s gun. As the second man turned on Casey, she fired. The man staggered, blood staining his thigh.

  Kyra dropped the can of oven cleaner and picked up the frying pan. When he lunged forward at Maureen, she hit him across the back with enough force to send him down beside his friend.

  Abruptly, the air was filled with sirens. Uniformed police officers converged on the porch with guns drawn.

  Casey stood over the conscious man, brandishing the poker. “Never mess with a Wolfstead.”

  “Or an O’Shay,” Maureen put in.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “’T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house…”

  Kyra stood in the dining room of Maureen’s house, near the kitchen. Neil was giving a dramatic reading to the cluster of adults and children crowded inside his mother’s living room. It was three days until Christmas. Lucan had been called into work once more. He’d missed dinner again, but Kyra was keeping a plate warm for him in the oven.

  She never heard the kitchen door open, but she felt the cold draft on her back and whirled around. Lucan motioned her to silence and gestured for her to join him. Kyra knew Phyllis had noticed, but the woman didn’t make a sound as they hurried out the back door.

  “What is it? What’s wrong now?” Kyra whispered, shivering in the cold.

  “Nothing. But it’s been hours since I’ve had you alone long enough to do this.”

  She came into his arms, kissing him back with equal fervor until her legs turned to liquid. “We’re going to shock your mother’s neighbors,” she whispered breathlessly.

  “Hmm. Serves them right for being nosy. What would you say to going back to my house and getting naked?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He grinned. “Let’s go.”

  “I need my coat. It’s freezing out here.”

  “You can wear mine. The car is warm and if we go back inside we’ll never get out of there.”

  “I need to let your mother and my sister know we’re leaving.”

  “You could call them later.”

  She poked him in the chest. “We aren’t randy teenagers, for heaven’s sake.”

  “No, we’re randy adults.”

  The back door opened. Kip stepped outside holding out Kyra’s purse and coat. “His mom said ‘You don’t want to be leavin’ your purse an’ coat.’ Oh, and you should take the plate of food warming in the oven.”

  Lucan grinned. Kyra was thankful it was too dark for Kip to see her blushing.

  “Thanks, sport,” Lucan told him. “Do me a favor and turn off the oven. I’m going to eat when I get home.”

  Kyra poked him hard in the ribs before putting on her coat.

  “Lucan?” Kip asked seriously, “Did that man your mom shot die?”

  He released Kyra to face the boy. “No, Kip. He’s out of danger now. Both men are going to live to stand trial for kidnapping your mother, and trying to kill her and your aunt and my mother. They also have to answer for murdering a woman whose home they bro
ke into. At the very least, those men are going to go to jail for a very long time.”

  “That’s good. Thanks, Lucan. You know, for finding my mom and everything. Aunt Kyra said you would, and you did.”

  “It’s my job, Kip.”

  “I know. I’m going to be a detective when I grow up, too.”

  He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Get inside before you freeze.”

  “Okay. ’Night, Aunt Kyra.”

  “Good night, honey.”

  Kyra shook her head at Lucan the moment Kip disappeared. “Now see what you’ve done? He wants to be a cop when he grows up.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? He might have wanted to be a lawyer.”

  “You are going to pay for that crack, Detective,” she warned, sliding into his newest unmarked police car.

  “I’m counting on it.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, closed the door and went around to the driver’s side.

  “Is Montgomery really going to be okay?” she asked.

  Lucan started the engine and pulled out onto the street. “Yep. And Robby Krinegolt is talking, hoping for leniency. White or Fillmont or whatever you want to call him got together with Montgomery over some beers one night. Montgomery mentioned his friend, Paul Atteril, operated a string of pawn shops in the Baltimore area. So White came up with the idea of using the club as a source of information on some of their wealthier clientele. Both men were in a good position to chat up members of the club about vacation and travel plans, and it dawned on them that as a waiter and errand boy, Krinegolt heard even more. Krinegolt kept complaining he needed cash to move out of his mother’s place. White had the know-how, Montgomery had access to addresses and private information, and Krinegolt owned a van and lived in a basement where he could store whatever they needed.”

  “So they teamed up.”

  Lucan nodded. “They were careful to strike only when no one would be home. Until Shereen Nestler made the fateful mistake of changing her plans at the last minute. Krinegolt swears it was Montgomery she surprised.”

  “And he says it was Krinegolt?”

  Lucan shook his head. “Nope. He claims it was White. White’s dead, so it’s Montgomery’s word against Krinegolt’s. I’m inclined to believe Krinegolt. Robby says she started screaming so Montgomery began choking her to shut her up. When she went limp, he panicked and threw her down against the coffee table. White was in another part of the house. Krinegolt says she was dead when he got there.”