panel, barging in here demanding to know what he’d been doing on the case.
Hell, he was tired. Clearing out all his most urgent cases had eaten up most of yesterday and last night. Since the prime suspect had been cleared, Ryan had yet to decide where he’d go first with the investigation he’d just been assigned. There were forensics reports to go over. He’d only thumbed through the prelims, knowing they weren’t yet complete.
Also, he needed to plan interviews, conduct them, talk with the coroner and also do an additional forensics sweep. The police had done the initial investigation of the scene, but he wanted to be thorough now that he was in charge.
First things first. He needed to unload the little baggage who had just arrived.
He sat on the corner of his desk and assumed a relaxed pose, wishing he felt relaxed. “Look, Ms. Caruso—”
“Nina,” she said curtly. “We might as well use first names since we’ll be spending a great deal of time together. Why don’t you begin by listing what you’ve found out so far. You’ve had two full days and part of this one.” She paused for a second, then added, “Ryan.”
Ryan bit his tongue and unclenched his fist, deliberately projecting benevolence and goodwill. She didn’t react as expected to outright dismissal. He’d try manners. Not usually his last resort and shouldn’t be now, but they had gotten off on the wrong foot the minute she’d walked in.
Empathize first, he thought. “Of course you want to know what’s going on and I understand that completely. You may read copies of the reports tomorrow if His Majesty sees fit to share them with you. Until then, I must ask you to excuse me so that I can continue to do my job.” There. Polite and to the point. Get lost, cookie.
“Exactly what is your job?” she asked, not moving a hair.
“I’m a private investigator frequently employed by the Crown,” he answered. “Surely you knew that already.”
She nodded. “Not chief of criminal investigations.”
So she was capable of a neatly placed low blow. “There is no one with that particular title in Montebello. But I assure you, I am qualified to undertake the investigation. I was a homicide detective in a former life.” He offered her another smile. “Savannah.”
“You were fired?” she guessed.
“No, I resigned.” He looked around his well-appointed office as if that was explanation enough for changing jobs. The light gray walls and expensive carpet, sturdy black furniture and maroon leather chairs beat the hell out of his corner of the precinct where he’d spent his first twelve years in law enforcement. And the job here had literally saved his life and sanity.
Lorenzo Sebastiani, chief of royal intelligence, whom Ryan knew well, often called on him to dabble a little in the political intrigue so prevalent in this area of the world. In fact, Lorenzo had recommended him to the king for this particular investigation. Lorenzo had a personal interest in it. He was also half brother to Desmond Caruso, the victim in this case. Both were sons of the king’s brother, Duke Antonio Sebastiani, who had died some years ago.
Desmond’s mother had been one of the palace maids. She had married an Italian businessman, Guiseppe Caruso, and had moved to the States. Ryan studied the young woman sitting in his chair, a product of that marriage.
“King Marcus assured me you would welcome my help,” she said.
“I regret to say he was wrong.”
The door opened. Duke Lorenzo entered without preamble. “Good morning,” he said formally. Nina rose from the chair.
Ryan eyed him with suspicion. “In case you two haven’t met, Nina Caruso, this is His Grace, Duke Lorenzo Sebastiani.” Lorenzo reached for her hand and bowed over it. “Little sister. I regret we must meet for the first time in such terrible circumstances. I share in your grief for the loss of our brother.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she mumbled, obviously a little taken aback and unsure what else she should say.
She made a perfect curtsy, however. Her mother must have taught her court manners, Ryan decided.
Ryan managed a nod, his version of a bow, in Lorenzo’s direction.
Americans generally had problems kowtowing, and Ryan admitted he was the rule rather than the exception. Also, he knew the duke well enough to know when Lorenzo was putting on airs. Ryan had seen him in his shirtsleeves, smoking cigars and dealing cards across the table.
Not that Lorenzo even noticed Ryan’s nod. He was too busy taking Nina Caruso’s measure.
“I am so sorry to have missed your arrival at the palace,” Lorenzo said graciously. “The king has explained your mission to me.”
He then addressed Ryan. “And Pavelli just informed me of your objection. I should reiterate that our Nina’s participation in the investigation is not simply a request. It is her right as a sister, I believe.”
“I see,” Ryan said, tasting dry defeat. “Her right? Some new custom I’m not aware of?”
“Precisely,” Lorenzo affirmed. “There will be no problem accommodating her in this endeavor?” Though phrased as a question, Ryan knew very well it wasn’t.
He shrugged. “Probably, but I guess I’ll work around it if I have to.” His continued employment might be contingent on doing that, and this job was everything to him right now.
Work was his life. It was all he had left, and damned if he planned to junk it over something like this. He’d just have to invent some busywork to keep the woman out of his way while he was doing what had to be done.
“Excellent.” Lorenzo offered his hand and firmly shook Ryan’s, then smiled in Nina Caruso’s direction. “I shall tell the king that all systems are go. A space term for launching success, yes?” He raised an eyebrow at Ryan.
“Yes. Just before blastoff. Then everybody prays there’s no malfunction,” Ryan said wryly.
“As we all shall do. Grazie.”
Grazie for nothing, Ryan thought. He liked to think this was his investigation. The king had brought him in on it, but there wasn’t much doubt it had been Lorenzo’s idea to do so. And no doubt at all that Lorenzo was running the show. Ryan needed to know. “Shouldn’t we put all our cards on the table now. Decide who does what?”
The duke shrugged. “I provide you whatever access you need. You and your people follow through. Keep me up to date.”
“Fair enough,” Ryan agreed. It would simplify matters not to have to plow through the usual red tape involving court orders and search warrants. “I’ll be in touch.”
Lorenzo nodded, started to leave, then turned at the door. “When things settle a bit, we should arrange for another game. It has been a while.”
“Any time,” Ryan said, recalling the night at Pete’s not long ago when he had beat the royal socks off Prince Lucas, his chauffeur and Lorenzo. A strange, if rewarding, experience.
Ryan was usually up for a card game. And the winnings were nice, but he also
