Krystal's Bodyguard

by Molly Rice

  “And speaking of that, how come the defense didn’t ask for a change of venue?”

  “To where?” Dana said wryly. “There isn’t a corner of the state they haven’t got some kind of operation. With all the gambling opening up throughout Minnesota, we know there’s mob money floating in all directions, even if it’s wearing legitimate cover. Apparently their counsel recognized the futility of a plea for change.”

  “All of that doesn’t make this any more’ viable. It seems to me with all the work on your calendar, you don’t really have time to spend looking for cold evidence in a three-year-old case.”

  Dana’s grin revealed a dimple in her right cheek and rekindled Nico’s desire for her. “That’s why I need you to help me, Nico,” she said, her voice a seductive whisper.

  “Are you stooping to feminine wiles, Ms. Harper?” But it didn’t matter what she answered; he knew he was going to do anything she asked and worry about consequences later.

  Chapter Eight

  The unexpectedness of Nico’s deep voice at her ear sent tingles of excitement through Dana and she felt herself flush as she glanced at the people seated around her desk. She tried to keep the tone of the conversation impersonal.

  “I’m in conference at the moment, Mr. Scalia, can this wait?”

  “Sorry. I wanted to catch you before you made other plans. Can we meet for lunch?”

  “What about Krystal?” Dana asked, uncomfortably aware that the mention of her daughter’s name made it clear this was a personal call.

  “My mom’s invited Krystal for lunch. Some of my nieces and nephews are there for the day. Krystal will fit. right in.”

  Dana swiveled away from the group so that she had her back to them and lowered her voice. “Your mom? Really, Nico, I don’t th—”

  “Not to worry, Dana. She’ll be perfectly safe there. My brother-in-law, Carmen, is there. He’s a cop on the St. Paul P.D.”

  She couldn’t argue with him without enlightening her colleagues and she had no desire to prolong this conversation.

  “All right,” she snapped. “Just tell me where and when.”

  “Is twelve-thirty good for you?”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. Harve Mackey was looking at his watch and Mary Quan was gazing out of the window, looking very bored. “That’s fine. Just tell me where.”

  “How about Pagoda?”

  “Yes. Fine. ‘Bye.”

  She slammed the phone down and turned back to the others with an apologetic frown on her face, her tone clipped and businesslike. “Where were we?”

  THE PAGODA had been one of the city’s more familiar landmarks until the renovations of the downtown area had required that it be torn down to make room for the Nicollet Mall and many new buildings, including the City Center which now housed the new Pagoda.

  She found Nico already seated at a table overlooking the street and let him hold her chair for her before she reprimanded him for disturbing her meeting.

  “How did I know?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, it was important.”

  Dana pushed the menu aside and took a sip of water. “So what’s so important? And why is my child at your mother’s house? I don’t even know your parents, for heaven’s sake!”

  Nico chuckled. “Can I get a word in here?”

  Dana sat back, chin out, her right hand impatiently tapping the bowl of a spoon on the tabletop. “Go!”

  “Okay. First of all, Hello, Dana. How are you? I’m so glad you could join me.”

  He grinned and she glared at him but kept her mouth shut.

  He laughed aloud. “Okay. Moving right along. My folks have a ton of grandkids always underfoot and I’m sure you’d find the folks’ home an acceptable environment for Krys even if it isn’t in Wayzata.”

  “I wasn’t protesting out of snobbery,” Dana defended, “but first of all it seems like an intrusion on your folks, and secondly, I like to be informed—no, asked—before you entrust my daughter to anyone else.”

  “Don’t worry about intruding. My mom doesn’t see it that way. And there wasn’t time to check with you first, I had to get over there right away.”

  “Over where?”

  Nico pushed flatware out of his way and placed his elbows on the table so he could lean forward. He lowered his voice. “I decided to follow up on your Mr. Vale. I called him and asked if he’d be willing to get me a list of all the neighbors he knew were willing to cooperate to get the goods on the action at that corner. One of the people he named owns a pool hall on that block. It turned out the owner’s an old friend of mine from school. Pool halls are great places for picking up the neighborhood gritty and I figured a reunion with my old buddy was in order. Turns out Max is going on vacation, leaving tomorrow, so I had to get over there pronto or wait a couple of weeks for him to get back.”

  “You talked to him?” Dana inched forward on her chair, eager to hear what Nico might have learned.

  “Yeah. And I learned a lot more than I expected. First of all, it seems Marcus Caprezio, either on his own or on behalf of the Organization, has been trying to muscle his way into a piece of the action. Max has been able to keep him out but there have been numerable unexplained accidents that Max is sure were meant to be warnings. Then, it turns out, that’s not the only business in the area that Caprezio has tried to strong-arm. Max is pretty sure some of the others caved in and are paying protection.”

  Dana’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape. She let out a gusty sigh. “Too bad we can’t wire your friend and use this.”

  “Why can’t we?”

  Dana sat back, crossing her arms at her waist. “You know what I told you, about ‘our friends’ doing their own investigation?”

  He knew she was referring to the Feds. “Yeah. So what?”

  “So, we’ve been ordered to turn everything we find over to them, outside of anything directly related to the Nunzio murder.” She sat forward again, reaching for her glass of water. She took a sip before adding, “For all we know, they’re already onto this and haven’t moved on it for reasons of their own.”

  “So we just let it slide?”

  She shrugged. “Did you find out anything I can use?”

  Nico’s answer was intercepted by the appearance of the waiter at the side of their table. Nico deferred to Dana, who ordered a combination plate.

  “I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter, and handed the man both menus.

  “Go on,” Dana ordered when the waiter was out of earshot.

  “It seems the night your husband was shot, Marcus showed up at the pool hall about eleven o’clock. He was a little drunk and crowing about cleaning up the neighborhood, starting with ‘the pigs,’ to quote Max quoting M.C.”

  Dana gasped. “Do you mean he was admitting he’d killed Zack?”

  “No.” Nico shook his head. “More like someone else did but M.C. knew who it was, according to Max.”

  “But the Caprezios might have paid for the hit?”

  “Not the impression I got from Max. He seemed to think Marcus was merely congratulating someone else in his own way.”

  Dana mulled that over.

  Nico left her to her thoughts for a moment and then put his hand over hers to get her attention.

  “Dana, maybe you could make some kind of deal with M.C., trade what he knows about Zack’s killing for less time on the Nunzio thing.”

  Dana’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears when she lifted them to meet Nico’s. She shook her head. “No way. This may be the only chance we ever have to get a sure fix on this guy and put him away for a long haul. I’m not jeopardizing that.”

  Nico’s chest swelled with admiration. What a woman, he thought, squeezing her hand to relay his unspoken feelings. She would never compromise integrity, no matter how much she might want something.

  She smiled and blinked back the threat of tears. “There’s got to be another way in, another way to find out what went down behind Zack’s murder.”


  She pulled her hand away as the waiter approached with their plates.

  They ignored the chopsticks at their place settings, both picking up forks instead. They ate in silence for a few minutes. When Nico filled her teacup, Dana put her fork down.

  “Did you talk to any of the others on Vale’s list?”

  “No. By the time I finished with him, I had to get over here to meet you.”

  Dana nodded and picked up her fork, pushing sprouts aside to find a mushroom. Suddenly she looked up and grinned.

  “You don’t use chopsticks, either?”

  He returned her grin. “I always think it looks sort of funny when I use them.”

  She nodded and they laughed in unison.

  Dana whispered, “How about in those romance movies when they eat out of the cartons with them.”

  “Or when they feed each other food with ’em.”

  They were having a hard time containing their laughter and now people at neighboring tables were glancing over at them.

  With some effort Dana sobered and resumed eating, avoiding Nico’s gaze for fear she’d start to laugh again.

  His sobriety was brought on by a sudden spasm of longing. There she sat, her hair in a proper up-do, wearing a decidedly tailored suit, primly matching her manner to the public atmosphere, and he wanted her so badly that he could barely swallow. Memories flooded through his mind, restoring the taste of her on his lips, the feel of her voluptuous curves beneath his hands.

  She looked up and noticed that he was staring at her, not eating, not smiling. His expression was…

  Her stomach lurched with excitement as their minds met and she was once again in his arms, her hands exploring, her mouth crushed to his in wild need.

  “Nico…I…”

  His eyes were smoky with desire. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he whispered.

  Their hands crept across the table, palms meeting, fingers entwining, as they looked into each other’s eyes.

  “It’s a good thing we’re in a public place,” she whispered at exactly the same moment that he murmured, “I wish we were alone.”

  Their nervous laughter lightened the mood. Barely.

  Dana pushed her plate up from the edge of the table and rested her elbow there, her chin on one palm, the other still pressed up against his. His fingers moved seductively over hers, caressing…maddening…

  “I have to get back to work,” she said as she reveled in his look of adoration. She didn’t realize that her assessment of his wonderful face was reflected in her face.

  “I know.” Nico laid his napkin beside his plate and released her hand with obvious reluctance. He reached for the check. “Would you like me to walk you back to the government building?”

  “Yes. But no, I’d really rather you talk to the other people on your list”

  She didn’t protest as he laid some bills on the check, and Nico appreciated that. Was that because she came from plenty of it or because it wasn’t important in the scheme of things to her? In either case, he was grateful there’d been no fuss. He hated it even when a male companion argued about who should pay. For some reason that had always embarrassed him.

  As they rose to leave, Dana said, “Are you sure your parents won’t mind keeping Krystal a bit longer?”

  “I told them I’d pick her up about four. I’ve plenty of time, yet,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  They parted out on the street, holding hands for a brief moment. Nico wanted to kiss her. As if sensing that, or perhaps wanting the kiss, as well, she looked furtively around. He laughed, chucked her under the chin and turned away.

  Dana stood for a moment watching his graceful lope as Nico strode toward the end of the street to the parking lot where he’d left his car.

  He’d be there when she got home from work, probably with dinner simmering on the stove. Her pulse escalated at the thought. They’d be alone tonight, after Krystal was put to bed. And then…

  “And then we’ll discuss his findings,” she muttered, clenching her fists at her sides as she turned to head back to work.

  A man passing her threw her a curious glance, but Dana was too busy, silently praying for strength against the lure of rampant desire, to notice.

  The blare of a car’s horn penetrated her revery as she was about to cross the street at a red light. A warm rush of embarrassment heated her cheeks when she caught a look of admonishment from an elderly lady waiting to cross beside her. She grinned sheepishly and obediently stared up at the walk sign until it lit up. She joined the throng of late lunchers and shoppers moving up the mall.

  Halfway across the street a sense of uneasiness penetrated and a chill stirred at the back of her neck. She halted midstride to look over her shoulder, almost bumping into a man carrying a baby on his shoulder, and met the eyes of the same elderly woman. The woman shook her head and made a moue of disgust, obviously labeling Dana as some kind of flake.

  But the woman’s implied scolding didn’t deter from the sensation that she was being followed. She kept glancing behind her as her pace quickened, never seeing anyone she recognized, never losing the feeling of threat.

  By the time she reached the entry to the government building she was nearly running.

  “Yo, Ms. Harper, you okay?” Don Martinez, one of the security guards, stopped her in midflight across the lobby.

  “What?” Dana turned to the man, but her glance strayed to the entrance where another rush of people was coming into the lobby.

  She saw no one suspicious and turned back to Martinez. “Sorry, Don, what did you say?”

  “You looked like someone was after you,” Martinez said, chuckling at the absurdity. “You okay?”

  “Sure, I’m fine, Don. Just in a hurry.” She started to move toward the elevators and remembered her manners. “Thanks for asking, Don,” she called with a wave in the guard’s direction.

  He smiled, nodded, and gave her a thumbs-up.

  He was still smiling in her direction as the elevator doors closed, shutting off Dana’s view of him and the people moving in all directions behind him.

  The feeling of unease seemed to fall away as the elevator car started its stomach-dropping surge upward. She slumped back against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. A secretary she recognized from the commissioner’s offices smiled at her.

  “One of those days, Mrs. Harper?”

  Dana agreed with a weak smile. “Yeah,” she said, straightening. “One of those days.”

  By the time she’d reached her own office she was berating herself for “losing it” and letting her imagination run wild. Not like her at all. She could envision sharing it with Shelly, her friend’s eyes wide with projected excitement and fear.

  But she had no intention of telling anyone. Dana struggled every day to keep her professional image intact, she wasn’t now about to come across as the weak, frightened damsel in flight.

  Chapter Nine

  Dana had just pulled the Caprezio file, in preparation for her meeting with the arresting officers, when her door opened and Joe Lake stuck his head in.

  “Hey, babe,” he called out, “got a minute?”

  “‘Babe’?” Dana repeated wryly. “I take it this is a social call, Detective?”

  Joe laughed as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He pulled a length of silk from his pocket and waved it at Dana.

  “You left your scarf in my car the other night, just found it when I had my car washed, and thought you’d want it.”

  It was hers. Dana recalled that she’d worn it the night Mrs. J. was shot. God, was that less than two weeks ago?

  “Thanks. Want some coffee?”

  She accepted the scarf and tucked it into her bag before going to the coffeepot on the file cabinet.

  “Sure. Black’s fine.”

  Joe settled himself into a chair, swiveling around to gaze out over the city as Dana filled two cups and carried them back to the desk.

  J
oe was dressed in a gray three-piece suit over a muted striped shirt. The ensemble was finished off with a burgundy and gray tie; a far cry from his usual street wear.

  “Been to court?” Dana asked. She set a cup down in front of him and carried her cup around the desk to her own chair.

  “Yeah. That Feller thing.”

  “Mmm.” Dana tilted her head. “Johnson’s case,” she said, naming another prosecuting attorney. “How does it look?”

  Joe nodded. “It’s a shoe-in. Feller offed his old lady and we got all the evidence we need to convince a jury.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear,” Dana said. “How often have we presented a clean case and the jury’s been swept away by the sleight-of-hand rhetoric of the defense?”

  Joe grimaced. “I don’t want to think about that. Every time that happens, half a dozen good cops threaten to leave the force.”

  They were silent a moment, sharing thoughts that plagued law enforcement people. Then Joe set his cup down and leaned back, one hand in his pants’ pocket, the other drumming fingers on his knee.

  “Dana, I really stopped by because Lieutenant King mentioned your call. It’s been three years, honey, don’t you think it’s time to let go?”

  Dana cocked an eyebrow at her late husband’s expartner and tapped her fingers against the side of her mug. “I wasn’t aware there was a statute of limitation on murder, Joe.”

  Lake rubbed his head in frustration. “Dana, don’t you think the department would like to get the guy who offed Zack? Don’t you think I’d like to find him?”

  “Or her?”

  “Huh?” Lake obviously hadn’t caught the sarcasm in Dana’s voice.

  “Obviously since you have no clue as to the identity of Zack’s murderer, we don’t know that it was a ‘him’ that took him out.”

  The detective shot her a look of disgust. “Yeah. You’re right. We don’t know. And that’s the point, Dana.” Increased frustration raised his voice an octave. He picked up his mug but didn’t drink from it.