Winter Winds

by Gayle Roper

  “Rats,” Ryan said with feeling. “That’s what I was afraid of. Finally something worth talking about at school, and I can’t talk about it.”

  Maureen looked sympathetic. “Sorry, guy. See, the thing is that we don’t want just to recover the art. We want to catch the receiver of the stolen goods. That’s why I was at the airport. My partner and I were to follow the suitcase and catch the guy red-handed.”

  “And you expected it to come to Seaside?” Dori asked.

  Maureen nodded. “Though you were a surprise.”

  “Ill bet. But why here? I mean, Seaside is hardly a hotbed of crime.”

  Maureen thought for a moment. “We don’t know who the original thief was, and that’s not our major concern. Well leave that part of the puzzle to others. We’re involved because the paintings were to be delivered to Seaside to a crime boss named Neal Jankowski.”

  “How do you know this?” Trev asked.

  “A CI who wants Jankowski to fall.”

  “A CI?”

  “A confidential informant.”

  “And this crime boss lives in Seaside?” The disbelief was clear in Phil’s voice.

  “He works out of Atlantic City, but he likes living in our quiet little town. A better environment for his kids.”

  Phil blinked. “Am I the only one to hear the irony in that statement?”

  Maureen shrugged. “He’s got four kids he’s crazy about.”

  “Jankowski,” Ryan said. “I’ve got a Jankowski in my class. Eric.” The boy’s face darkened. “He’s a bully.”

  Maureen picked up one, then the other of the oils and put them back in the suitcase. She gently covered them with the lining.

  Dori hated to see them go, they were so beautiful, so full of color. “Can you imagine actually having treasures like that in your house?”

  Trev cocked an eye at her. “Pastor’s salaries don’t go that far.”

  Ryan had been studying Maureen rather than the pictures. “You’re saying Eric’s dad is Mafia?” Ryan gave a nod of understanding. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  Maureen grinned at the boy’s comment. “Not to burst your balloon, but he’s not Mafia. He’s his own man, small-time in the eyes of many, but he’s managed to successfully work out deals with other local crime figures, each getting his cut of the illegal businesses out there, of which, unfortunately, there are many. Our main concern on the Seaside PD is that he has bought a home here in Seaside, a big, window-filled mansion in the Gardens, right on the beach where he can see the lights of Atlantic City across the inlet. He wants that nice family atmosphere for his family I told you about.”

  “Eric.” Ryan made a face. “Some family.”

  “He’s got two younger daughters and another son, two years old. Anna is ten and Lucy is eight. His wife is a beautiful lush. I figure she drinks so heavily to escape from her marriage the only way she can.”

  Maureen began neatly placing the used clothes back in the suitcase. “We would be more than happy to have the means to get Jankowski out of our hair for a very long time. Seaside neither deserves nor wants him and his ilk. But he’s clever. Though he’s been arrested several times through the years on various charges, there has never been enough solid evidence to convict him. His clever lawyers have seen to that. Catching him with paintings this valuable would be a fine first step in bringing him down. It would also provide federal agencies with the chink in his armor they need to compile a more complete case against him because you can bet he didn’t pay taxes on them.”

  “So how do you manage to catch him now that the wrong people—that’s us—have the paintings?” Dori asked.

  Once again Maureen looked uncomfortable. “We—ah, that is, the Seaside PD—would, ah, appreciate it if you—”

  “Bait!” Ryan shouted. “She wants us to be bait!” He punched the air. “Yes!”

  Bait The word hung in space.

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d actually say bait,” Maureen began.

  “What else would you call it?” Phil asked, the edge to his voice sharp enough to cut steel. “I didn’t bring you here to endanger my family.”

  As she watched Maureen meet Phil’s angry look without blinking, Dori wondered if she was seeing the death of a relationship before it began. If so, it was very sad because Maureen was just the woman Phil needed. She knew it.

  She also knew Ryan had it right. Bait. She examined the idea carefully. “You want someone to steal the suitcase from us so you can follow it to Jankowski himself.”

  Without breaking her staring contest with Phil, Maureen nodded, her black curls bouncing. “That’s it.”

  “We don’t have to try to prevent the theft or catch the thief?”

  Maureen broke from Phil and looked at Dori, clearly appalled at the very idea. “Absolutely not! We don’t want you to be endangered in any way.”

  Dori nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Maureen grinned at all of them. “Thanks!”

  “Now wait a minute, Dori.” Trev moved to Dori’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s think this through more carefully.” He turned to Maureen. “What if we run into this thief while he’s in the process of taking the case? He’s not in on our we-won’t-interfere plan. You could be asking Dori or Ryan or even me to put ourselves in danger.”

  Dori knew Trev wasn’t worried about himself. She was his concern, though she didn’t think she would be in any danger. Still, it felt surprisingly good that he was protective of her. And Ryan, of course.

  Ryan. Trev—and by extension she—was responsible for him and his safety. How would they ever be able to explain to his grandmother if something happened as a result of their willful choice? She looked at the boy, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. He’d be just as likely to throw himself at the thief in order to be a hero as not.

  On the other hand, how could they look Ryan in the eye if they refused to help? He might end up spending the rest of his school career bullied by Eric Jankowski, and it would be all their fault, to say nothing of the don’t-get-involved message the boy would read loud and clear.

  Maureen correctly read the hesitation in Dori’s face. “You wouldn’t have to worry,” she said. “I could stay here for the duration to provide protection. I’d just be Phil’s friend, visiting.” She shot him a look as if daring him to challenge her. “And when I’m not here, someone would be keeping the house under surveillance to follow whoever happened to drop in uninvited.”

  Suddenly Phil beamed at her. “Okay.”

  Maureen’s eyes went wide with surprise. Then she gave him a beautiful smile that brought that bemused swain look back with a vengeance.

  “You just like the idea that Maureen will be here for you to visit.” Trev sounded as testy as Dori had ever heard him.

  Phil shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

  Ryan looked at Trev, deeply distressed. “Pastor Paul, you’re not thinking of saying no, are you? How can you say no? You’re the pastor!”

  Dori watched Trev squirm as all the things Ryan meant in his “You’re the pastor” comment sank in. She laid a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay. Isn’t this where you’re supposed to say, ‘The Lord will protect us’?”

  “Tell that to all the victims of crime,” he muttered.

  “Good.” Maureen shut and latched the suitcase. “You guys are the best. Now let’s put this back where it was and settle back to see what happens.”

  “No,” Trev said, his face set. “Not in here. Out in the hall closet.”

  “Fine,” Maureen said. “No problem.”

  Ryan was practically jumping out of his skin. “Can I tell the kids after it’s all over? After you catch the bad guys? Can I? Please?”

  Maureen nodded. “But you have to wait until I tell you that you can talk about it. There may be legal ramifications that will put you under a gag order for a while.”

  “A gag order.” He shook his head in delighted wonder. “Will I have to testify? Please?”

 
Maureen grinned at him. “That’s up to the lawyers, Ry. I just catch the bad guys.”

  “Gotcha.” He was practically vibrating with delight. “This is almost worth Grandmom falling.” He saw everyone’s shocked looks. “Almost, I said.”

  Suddenly the stuffings went out of Dori, and she sagged against the wall. It was all she could do to hold herself upright. She tried to smother a huge yawn but failed.

  Trev saw. “Okay, everybody. Out. I promised Dori a nap, and I can’t let her down.” He smiled at her.

  Phil and Maureen left immediately, Ryan trailing behind, throwing one last excited look at the suitcase. Trev reached over the pillows of his bed and pulled the covers down. Then he turned to Dori, still propping herself against the wall.

  Trev walked to her. “Come on, sweetheart. Not that you need any beauty rest since you’re beautiful already but I know exhaustion when I see it.”

  Before she realized what he had in mind, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Automatically her arms went around his neck to steady herself as he moved. She burrowed close. When he lowered her onto the mattress, her arms still around his neck, his face was inches from her. Silently they looked at each other. He blinked first, smiling that wonderful wry smile.

  “Well, I guess this will have to do for the moment.” He bent and quickly kissed her cheek. “But only for the moment.”

  Her cheek burned where his lips touched it. “Trev, I can’t—” She didn’t even know how to finish her sentence.

  “I know. Just relax and sleep.”

  He stood and after slipping her shoes off, pulled the covers over her. She watched him walk to the door, the suitcase in his hand. He turned back. Again their eyes met and held. This time she broke the moment as the mother of all yawns exploded.

  Trev laughed. “I’m going to take Ryan for a quick visit with his grandmother while you sleep. I’ll make certain Phil and Maureen stay here until I get back.” He blew her a kiss and shut the door.

  She wanted to think about him, about her tangled emotions, but no sooner had she heard the click of the door latching than oblivion overtook her.

  Twenty-Two

  THEY KNOW ABOUT the paintings.” Barney Noble made the pronouncement with absolute certainty.

  Joanne looked at the big man beside her. She was squeezed in the front seat of his car between him and Vinnie early Sunday evening. Barney had met her and Vinnie at her apartment after their return from Amhearst. She wasn’t certain yet what she thought of Barney, but he wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. The way Vinnie talked about him, she expected something like the Hulk in a very, very bad mood. Although Barney could certainly give the Hulk a run for his money sizewise, he was handsome and very pleasant, at least to her. He was also very smart.

  “How do you know they know?” she whispered. She’d been watching the gray house just like he had, but all she’d seen was a man and a woman with dark, curly hair come out and take a big black dog for a walk around the block. They had just gone back inside.

  Barney looked down at her and smiled. “You don’t have to whisper, sugar. They can’t hear you.”

  Joanne blushed. “Sort of stupid, huh?”

  “Sort of cute,” Barney corrected.

  Joanne stared straight ahead even though she could feel Barney looking down at her. Had he just complimented her?

  She didn’t have the nerve to look back at him and find out.

  “But to answer your question, sugar, you saw that couple walking the dog?”

  She nodded, aware of Vinnie sulking silently against the passenger door.

  “He’s Phil Trevelyan, the brother of Paul Trevelyan who’s married to the suitcase lady.”

  “He lives here in Seaside too?”

  Barney nodded his bald head. Joanne had never realized how much she liked bald heads before, at least on young men who made them bald on purpose. “He has the drug store at Ninth and Asbury.”

  “Yeah?” Joanne was impressed. “I shop there sometimes. They got great sunglasses, you know the ones with the funky frames that look so cool?” She frowned. “I never saw him there though.” She gestured at the house.

  “That’s ’cause you’re never sick, idiot,” growled Vinnie. “You never have to get medicine. He gives out the drugs and stuff.”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice. Vinnie could make her feel so bad so quick.

  Barney leaned forward and glared at Vinnie. “You will never speak to the lady like that again.”

  Vinnie looked startled, then angry. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll speak to the ‘lady’ any way I want.”

  Barney reached a huge arm across the seat behind Joanne’s head and gripped the back of Vinnie’s neck. “I beg your pardon?” he said pleasantly, but he must have squeezed hard because Vinnie flinched and went white.

  “S-sorry,” he stuttered.

  “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to her.” Barney still spoke pleasantly, but Joanne could see why he had such a fearsome reputation. She certainly wouldn’t want him squeezing her neck like that.

  “S-sorry, Jo,” Vinnie managed.

  “That’s more like it,” Barney said. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.” He released Vinnie’s neck, but he didn’t pull his arm back. Instead, he let it lie across the back of the seat, his fingers skimming the back of Joanne’s neck.

  Squeezing would be bad, Joanne thought again, but skimming, tickling—wow!

  “Now Phil Trevelyan doesn’t concern me,” Barney said, all business once again except for the tickling fingers. “But the woman with him—she’s another matter. She’s Maureen Galloway, the latest addition to the Seaside PD. She’s been in town about two weeks. Before that she worked in Camden in the juvenile unit. She got burned out dealing with the poor kids and the perverts who hurt them. I guess she figured a little town like Seaside would be a safe, quiet place to work. They’re probably using her on this job because they think no one will recognize her.”

  “That cute lady with the black curls is a cop?” Joanne couldn’t believe it.

  Barney shrugged. “Sad, isn’t it?”

  “How do you know that?” She was fascinated that he knew such a fact.

  “It’s my job to know things like that,” he said simply. “And see that car parked down the street in front of the white house with the green shutters?”

  Joanne squinted through the darkness. “You mean the black one?”

  “Good girl, sugar.” Barney gave her neck a light squeeze, and goose bumps spread up and down Joanne’s arms. So squeezes could be good too, in the right circumstances. “There’s a cop inside.”

  “There is?” Joanne squinted, but she still couldn’t make out a figure.

  “An idiot named Fleishman.”

  “It’s a stakeout!” Joanne couldn’t believe it. It was just like TV

  Barney nodded. “They want us to take the suitcase so they can catch us with stolen goods. But there’s a potentially bigger problem than the cops.”

  “What could be bigger than the cops?” Vinnie asked with a trace of his old swagger.

  “That dog,” Barney said. “I don’t like to kill dogs or kids.”

  Joanne’s heart swelled. What a great guy Barney was. “I don’t like it either. It’s mean, and it’s not like they did anything wrong.”

  He nodded. “People get very upset if you hurt their pets and kids. It makes the media crazy, too. We don’t want the attention. We’ll have to drug him.” He tapped the steering wheel in a syncopated rhythm as he talked. “Mr. Jankowski gets home from his vacation in Aruba next Sunday. We have until then to get the case.”

  “The paintings are worth a lot, aren’t they?” Joanne found herself leaning closer and closer to Barney.

  Barney’s fingers stilled on her neck. “How do you know about the paintings, sugar?” Though the words were spoken in a soft voice, his whole body was on alert. She could feel it.

  “Vinnie told me?” The question was
n’t because she wasn’t sure of her answer. It was because she wasn’t sure of Barney’s reaction. She knew all too well what Vinnie did when he was displeased with her. She held her breath and only relaxed when his fingers began skimming again.

  Barney skewered Vinnie with a look. “You do talk too much, don’t you?”

  Vinnie seemed to shrink before Joanne’s eyes. She knew Barney was scaring him big-time.

  “Don’t be mad at him.” She laid a hand on Barney’s thigh. “He thought that since I was courier—”

  Vinnie grabbed her arm and squeezed. “Shut up, Joanne,” he hissed.

  Barney went very still. “You were the courier, sugar? I thought you just pulled the wrong suitcase off the belt.”

  Joanne closed her eyes and hunched her shoulders. Here it came, all the trouble that Vinnie had said Barney was good at making. She waited for those caressing fingers, now stilled, to grab her by the neck and shake the life out of her. She had messed up big-time, and now that Barney knew—and from her own stupid mouth!—she would have to pay. She waited for the pain. When it didn’t come, she cracked her eyes open a slit.

  Slowly Barney leaned past her and put his face right in Vinnie’s. “She was the courier?” he said in a very quiet, very scary voice.

  Joanne looked from man to man. Something was going on here that she didn’t understand.

  Vinnie nodded, his eyes wide. Joanne could feel him shaking where his leg touched hers.

  “That was your assignment.” Barney loomed over Vinnie. He loomed over Joanne too, but she wasn’t scared because he was looking at Vinnie, not her. Vinnie who apparently was the one in big trouble, not her.

  “I was there when Mr. Jankowski laid out your responsibilities.” Barney’s voice was still soft but scarier than ever. “ ‘Go to Chicago and bring back the suitcase.’ How difficult is that?”

  Vinnie looked ready to be sick, and Joanne hoped he’d turn away if his stomach did heave. She didn’t want him to spatter her with anything so vile. She wouldn’t be getting her thousand dollars if she read the situation right, and without the money, she wasn’t getting new clothes. He’d better not ruin the few she had.