Her Bodyguard. Mallory Kane
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“Don’t worry about me. I’m tough. See, when I was a kid, my brother and his best friend picked on me all the time. I had to learn to stand up for myself.”
Brad chuckled. “You are tough. There’s no denying that.”
“Speaking of your best friend, guess who I ran into today?”
There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.
“Brad? Are you there?”
“Yeah. What—you don’t mean Delancey, there in New Orleans?”
“Who else? How many best friends have you had?”
“So you saw Luke. I thought he was in Dallas.”
“Well, apparently he’s taking a vacation.” She frowned. “It’s funny. He didn’t ask about you.”
“Hang on a second,” Brad said.
She heard him talking to someone.
“Sis, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a meeting in two minutes. Good luck on the rest of your tests.”
“Love you,” she said, but Brad had already hung up.
She realized she was oddly close to tears.
“That was weird,” she whispered. As she swiped her fingers across her cheeks, her gaze lit on the smudge on her sofa.
Her fist tightened around her cell phone and she shivered.
“HOW IN THE HELL DID YOU let Angela see you? I thought you were good at this stuff.”
Lucas cringed at the fury in Brad’s voice. He’d seen Angela on her cell phone a few moments ago. She must have been talking to him.
“Hey, I’m a detective, not a cat burglar. I was bound to run into her sooner or later. I was grabbing a quick café au lait. Who knew she’d finish her exam in just over an hour? Isn’t that record time?”
“You should have known. Have you forgotten how smart she is? What did she do when she saw you?”
“What do you think she did? She got pissed off. Wanted to know what I was doing here. I told her I was taking some time off.” He sniffed. “The years haven’t mellowed her much.”
“So what now? You’re going to have to find me somebody to take your place.”
“Nobody’s taking my place. She just thinks it’s her bad luck that she ran into me. I could see it in her face. Nope. I’ve got cameras set up everywhere—the street in front of her apartment, her hallway and door and her living room and kitchen. Anybody even goes near her building, I’ll see them.”
He paused for a beat and then took a deep breath. “Somebody’s going into her apartment when she’s not there, Brad.”
“Oh, God. You’ve seen him? I knew it. It’s got to be Picone. He’s sent someone down there after her. A hit man.”
“Who? Who would he send?”
Brad grunted in frustration. “That’s the $64,000 question. Picone’s organization is a family business. He’s got four sons and two daughters. Word is Nikki Jr. is being groomed to take over someday. Milo and Paulo have been linked to several suspicious deaths. And the son-in-law, Harold, was convicted of manslaughter about six years ago. The younger daughter isn’t married. She’s in her twenties. I’ve heard she’s a technology whiz.”
Lucas filed the names away in his brain. “What about the fourth son?”
“Tony. The youngest boy. He’s totally clean, from all the information I’ve got. The police have a confidential informant who says he’s Mama’s baby, and not in the business.”
“So which one’s out of town?”
Brad laughed wryly. “I wish it were that easy. None of them have been seen for the last couple of days.”
“Have you got pictures?”
“I’ll have to get my secretary to check the newspaper archives. Why? Have you spotted someone hanging around?”
“Not really. There is this one forgettable type who seems to hang around the building a lot. He’s kind of dumpy and pale as a fish’s belly.”
“Doesn’t sound like any of the family I’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe that’s the point. Forgettable is probably a job requirement for a hit man. I’m keeping an eye on him.”
“Think he’s the one getting into her apartment? Have you talked to the super?”
“Not yet. This guy’s never done anything that I’ve seen. He just hangs around like he’s waiting for somebody. But the next time the intruder goes into her apartment, I’ll be watching. And trust me, I’ll be all over him—”
“The next time?”
“Don’t worry, Brad. I’m going to get Ryker to talk to Chicago P.D. and maybe get a handle on who your big crime boss might have sent.”
“You can’t do that. I don’t want to broadcast that I’ve got a sister, much less where she is.”
“I said don’t worry. Look up the word discreet in the dictionary and you’ll find Ryker’s face.”
“Yeah, but Ryker’s so by-the-book. I’m afraid that’ll trump his discretion. He’ll be concerned with chain of command. And by the time he gets to someone who knows something, he’ll have spread the word about my sister all over the Chicago P.D. Besides, he’s in Chef Voleur, and that means even more links in the chain. Maybe Ethan could get one of the senior detectives in New Orleans to call up here, maybe talk to somebody he knows. Discreetly.”
“That’s not going to happen. My hot-headed younger brother isn’t happy with me right now. Ryker’ll handle it. He’s not such a stickler for chain of command these days.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. But do it today. That hit man’s on a deadline. I’m doing closing arguments on Monday. The case should go to the jury no later than Tuesday. I doubt it will take them a day to convict. Until then, Angela’s in danger.”
“Brad, you trust me, right? I’m on it. Nothing’s going to happen to Ange. Not on my watch.”
“Thanks, Luke. How are the accommodations?”
“Well, at least this place has a working toilet. I bought a portable refrigerator. Dawson found me a cot, and there’s a market three doors down.”
“Anything you need, just ask.”
“I could use an air conditioner, but other than that, I’m fine. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now than spying