A Dangerous Game

by Heather Graham

  “Where’s Kieran?” Wolff asked. “Where the hell...?”

  “They’re out. They’re all out at lunch. Ralph said that Kieran didn’t get by—”

  “What do you mean, they’re all at lunch?” Wolff demanded. “What about Officers Harding and Chopra? They would have been with Kieran. They did—or they didn’t—get out of here with her?”

  Why had she left her damned cell on her desk?

  David Beard stood in the hallway, staring at Wolff. She had to warn Wolff. Had to let him know that Beard was dirty.

  Before she could scream, the office door burst open behind Wolff.

  It was Tanya Petrofskya. She threw herself into Wolff’s arms, screaming. “Help!”

  Kieran heard the explosive sound of a gun going off once again.

  And then she saw Wolff fall to the floor, his body protecting that of the young Russian émigré.

  * * *

  Craig was on his way to get Kieran, certain that he knew at least part of what was going on, and more determined than ever that both Jimmy Baron and Kieran had to be protected.

  Back at the safe house, he’d pulled Egan aside. “Sir, you know that I’ve had Marty searching and researching.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “David Beard. He’s dirty. We’ve had a dirty cop on this, and it’s Beard.”

  Egan was silent for a minute. “What makes you so certain? I’ve talked to Marty, too. His record is clean.”

  “Elimination. I know who it can’t be—and who was around when, and who it could be. Sir, you can keep a clean record and still be dirty. He made a point of never being seen by Tanya and Riley. He was there, involved, when it all started. He’s claimed to be doing all kinds of things, but Holmes—his partner—hasn’t really known where he is half the time.”

  “So you think that Beard is dirty—How the hell, without Holmes knowing?”

  “Because Holmes is junior in their duo. He does what Beard tells him. Beard must laugh his ass off—Holmes is so passionate.”

  “And you’re sure that Holmes is no part of it?”

  “No, but that’s my gut feeling on Holmes.” He hesitated. “I think that Beard isn’t just in on it—I think he’s the King.” Egan stared at him, and Craig went on, “There’s a lot of money in what he’s doing. He might well be saving up and ready to fly to an island or country with no extradition agreement with the States.”

  “How has he left no paper trail?”

  “I don’t know. Accounts out of the country, for one. Assumed names, business fronts.”

  Egan swore softly. “There goes the credibility of every cop in the city. All right—we’ll get the word out that he has to be found and brought in. Go get Kieran, and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  * * *

  Now Craig was making his way through midday traffic, trying to get to the offices of Fuller and Miro. Craig’s phone rang. He thought that it was Egan calling.

  It wasn’t.

  It was Randy Holmes.

  Craig listened to him.

  He was only a few short blocks away from the doctors’ offices.

  Traffic was bad.

  He pulled the car over, jumped out and started to run.

  * * *

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

  It was David Beard, calling to her.

  At that moment, Kieran had absolutely no idea if Wolff was still alive. If he was dead, if Tanya was dead...

  And if Tanya had been alone, or if she was with Riley.

  Or with whoever it was who had broken them out. Who had removed them from the safe house?

  Her mind raced. David Beard. He was here. He’d been using Ralph Miller. Besa had been here. She had warned Kieran about law enforcement. And yes, it had been something that had surely occurred to everyone, because too much was known by the killers that shouldn’t have been known. Every time law enforcement took a step closer to what was going on.

  Beard had been there from the start.

  Was he calling all the shots? Alone?

  “Kieran, come out, come out from wherever you are!”

  He was out in the hallway then, stepping over the body of Ralph Miller. Kieran stayed where she was, watching as he moved down the hall, opening the door to the storage room, then Dr. Fuller’s office.

  He was coming closer and closer.

  He started into the little kitchenette.

  She looked to her side. The trash can was the only thing there.

  It was plastic. It would not do much good as a weapon.

  It would have to do.

  Beard stepped into the kitchen. He was careful, but he was going to come around the little prep island.

  In just a few more steps... She was ready.

  She threw like a girl. Yeah, a damned good-at-throwing girl who had grown up with three brothers. She hit him dead center in the head, and he staggered back and fell.

  All she had to do was reach the entrance, get the door open, get out and get help!

  She raced down the hallway and reached the reception area. Both Wolff and Tanya were there, on the floor, Wolff still lying in a protective curl around Tanya’s body. But, there was blood on his forehead, trickling along his temple. And Tanya wasn’t moving...

  The door to the outer hallway opened.

  Riley appeared in the doorway.

  “Kieran!” she cried, throwing her arms around her.

  There was no getting out of the front door; David Beard fired a warning shot over their heads. They dropped into crouches.

  “Come out, come out...” he said. “Oh, look, you are out.” He stepped by Kieran, dragging Riley into his arms. “Now, you will listen to me, or she’ll die first. Nice and slowly. At the moment, I think I just might need you. You are my only ticket out if they’ve begun to suspect me. That ass of a good-boy partner of mine is getting itchy, and they’re saying Jimmy might just make it, and if he does, well...”

  He set the muzzle of his gun against Riley’s head.

  He smiled at Kieran.

  “Help me!” Riley sobbed softly.

  And then they all spun around, because the door opened again.

  “Fucking Grand Central Station!” Beard cried out. With his free hand, he reached out for Kieran and dragged her hard against him.

  Craig was there. He was ready—he’d known. Somehow, he’d known. He had his Glock out, aimed at Beard.

  But Beard moved the muzzle of his gun against Kieran’s temple.

  “Who do I shoot first?” Beard asked Craig.

  * * *

  Craig couldn’t allow so much as a flicker of emotion to show as he stared down Beard.

  The man had killed or ordered the deaths of dozens of people, who knew how many more through the years. He had inflicted misery unknown or unsuspected by most sane and decent people.

  He would kill without blinking.

  “Let Riley go,” Kieran said flatly. “You have me. Let her go.”

  Let Riley go. Yes, Kieran would say that.

  “Ah, yes, good point. No good having two young women squirming around. How valiant, Miss Finnegan. What honor and courage—why, you are the real deal, huh?” Beard said.

  He shoved Riley toward Craig. Craig managed to step back and catch her without losing his dead-eye aim on Beard.

  Riley.

  If he was right about what he’d suspected at the safe house, Riley and Tanya had broken out themselves. One of them might have still been innocent, forced into action by the other. But which one?

  Even as he held Riley and Beard held Kieran and they glared at one another, the door burst open again.

  “Kieran! Oh!”

  It was Besa Goga. She stared at them all, and then stepped back.

  “Well...the new King!” she said softl
y, staring at Beard.

  Craig backed away.

  Could the Queen be this woman? Did he need to have his gun trained on her and David Beard?

  He decided to go with logic first.

  “Beard, come on, now. Killers like you don’t usually want to die yourselves. You can get out of this alive. You shouldn’t. But I will let you walk out of here. There’s really no other way out—except with you dead. Obviously, if you shoot one of these women, I will shoot and kill you.”

  Beard smiled.

  “I’m not alone, Special Agent Frasier!” he said.

  Craig knew. One of the women was on Beard’s side. Besa Goga, or Riley McDonnough.

  Tanya lay on the floor. Dead? Alive? Knocked out?

  Craig was startled when Kieran suddenly spoke softly.

  “Beidh tú ag íoc,” she said. She repeated the words, staring at Riley. “Beidh tú ag íoc!”

  Riley stared back at her, tensing against Craig.

  Kieran shouted, “It’s her! It’s not Besa, it’s her—it’s Riley. She is the Queen!”

  Craig thrust Riley back hard—so hard that she slammed into David Beard. At the same time, Besa Goga flew forward, as well.

  David Beard screamed. His gun went flying.

  Craig stepped forward, shoving Riley farther into the room and stepping over Beard, who had fallen to the floor.

  “Don’t move,” he warned. “Really, don’t move. I’d give a whole lot to have a legitimate reason to shoot you.”

  Kieran retrieved Beard’s gun and turned it on Riley McDonnough.

  Craig almost smiled, realizing just how hard Beard had really gone down.

  There were teeth marks clearly visible on his hand.

  Besa Goga had bitten the bastard.

  EPILOGUE

  Sister Teresa had been interred with all the honor, love and respect due to such a giving and wonderful woman.

  The service, delivered beautifully by the archbishop, was over.

  Naturally, the mourners had all gathered at Finnegan’s.

  With the amount of people who had attended the service and then come to the pub, Kieran had spent the first hour running back and forth with each and every one of her siblings and all their employees to keep the beer, wine, whiskey, water, soda, tea, coffee and food all moving at a respectable rate.

  Eventually, it all died down, others were able to manage, and Kieran sat with Craig, Mike and Egan, and her brothers and Mary Kathleen, along with a number of the detectives who had joined them throughout the day—Jacob Wolff, Randy Holmes, Abel Harding and June Chopra.

  Jacob still had a bandage on his head—luckily, David Beard’s shot had just nicked him.

  The shot had knocked him out. Tanya had hit her head on the edge of Jake’s desk when they fell together.

  Abel Harding was also all right; Ralph Miller had creamed him over the head with a stapler after luring Chopra out on the street with a report that someone with a gun was down there, threatening people who were just walking by.

  Ralph Miller had, though, paid the price. He’d been shot straight through the heart. From what they could figure out, Ralph had been a late addition to the crime family; after Alexandra had come to Kieran, they’d threatened his life—and his mother’s. It would have been sad if the detectives hadn’t discovered Ralph had also been paid off. With money—and with girls.

  “Such a terrible thing. They killed so easily. And they used the goodness of a woman like Sister Teresa, and they stole what might have been years more of life from her!” Mary Kathleen said, shaking her head. “And that Riley woman. Oh, she used me. I’ll be Declan’s wife and an American, but I’ll always love Ireland. How could she do that? I’ll always want to help people. And now...”

  “You’ll still help people,” Declan assured her.

  “You won’t stop me?” Mary Kathleen asked.

  “I’d be afraid to try,” he said with a laugh, and she smiled.

  They were so perfectly suited, Kieran thought.

  “Riley wasn’t Irish at all,” Craig informed them. “Just like David Beard, Riley was homegrown American. We discovered that she might have had an ancestor on the Mayflower, so go figure. She was an actress. She had that Irish accent down pat. She speaks a number of languages, all to help threaten and manipulate people.”

  “An actress?” Kevin said. “Ouch. That hurts the profession.”

  “She was a very good actress, really,” Mary Kathleen said.

  “She even had Tanya fooled. She escaped with Tanya and used her innocence to find out just what the police were doing, what they knew, and if everyone was suspecting David Beard. She used Tanya to get close to all of us,” Kieran said.

  “She had me fooled,” Jacob Wolff said with disgust. “At the end...”

  “At the end, she gave herself away. I’d never known Kieran speaks Gaelic!” Craig said, smiling at Kieran across the table.

  She laughed softly. “I don’t.”

  “Then...?”

  “That happens to be one of the few sentences I do know,” Kieran said. She looked over at Declan, who had finally seemed to forgive both her and Craig. Not for the danger they might have been in, or even for the danger they might have caused Mary Kathleen or the pub.

  Simply for not staying in closer contact.

  “I know it thanks to the pub.”

  “What was the sentence?” Declan asked her.

  “Beidh tú ag íoc,” Kieran said.

  Declan laughed.

  “What does it mean?” Craig demanded.

  “You will pay,” Declan told him. “We have some old guys who come in here. They argue over the check every time. You will pay! You will pay!”

  “When she didn’t know the sentence, I knew that Besa was the innocent woman in the room,” Kieran said.

  “Go figure!” Mike said. “All those languages that Riley knew, but Irish wasn’t among them. Guess she figured she wouldn’t need it.”

  “But what will happen with poor Besa now? Didn’t you just teach her not to bite?” Mary Kathleen asked.

  “I think Besa will be fine,” Jacob Wolff assured them.

  “There are certainly no charges against her that we know about,” Randy Holmes said.

  “No. No charges,” Egan said. “As to Riley—whose real name is Linda Jones, by the way—and David Beard... Federal charges. State charges. They’ll never be on the streets again. As to those who were threatened by them, or under them, hopefully, we’ll mop up what’s left of the operation soon.” He paused, grim for a moment. “Beard wants the possible federal death sentence off the table. He’s talking like a parrot. A true reign of terror is actually over.”

  There was a lot to talk about. And the group talked until they were the last ones in the pub. Finally, it was time to head out, to go home.

  And have a few days off—the good Drs. Fuller and Miro had told Kieran that she must take some time, and Egan had done the same with Craig and Mike.

  They had all agreed.

  And they were about to take off for a lovely Caribbean island.

  But Egan had promised them a surprise. The surprise was coming late, but it was coming.

  Right when everyone else was gone and Declan was about to lock up, the door opened instead and a beautiful young woman stepped in, accompanied by Tanya and the US Marshals Madison Smyth and Hank LeBlanc.

  She was holding a bundle in her arm.

  A bundle Kieran knew well.

  She let out a squeal of delight.

  Then they were all introduced to Yulia Decebel, the mother of the baby. Her English was poor—her language was Romanian—but Jacob Wolff managed just fine translating for them all.

  Yulia Decebel had not been killed; she had stayed deep in hiding, barely even coming out of the basement where she had found a refug
e to look for food. But the news of the downfall of the King and the Queen had brought her out.

  It was an amazing evening.

  Despite the fact that the King and the Queen were down, it would take a long time to make sure that the entire operation had really been dismantled.

  And so, Tanya, Yulia and the precious babe would go into Witness Protection.

  They were lucky.

  They would have each other.

  Finally, the night drew to a close.

  Kieran and Craig went back to Kieran’s apartment; it was where they had been staying, and though they had finally decided they were going to move everything over to Craig’s better apartment soon, they just hadn’t done it yet.

  Karaoke was done for the evening.

  But, Kieran thought, heading up the stairs, she did owe Lee a big thank you somewhere along the line. This case had been full of pieces, like puzzle pieces, and every time a missing piece had been found, it had brought them closer to seeing the real picture.

  Upstairs, she headed to her room and looked out the window at her St. Mark’s neighborhood.

  Craig came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Pardon?”

  She turned in his arms. “I think I said ‘yes’ already, but I’m just reiterating. You asked me to marry you. Yes, of course. I love you. I could never even think about being with anyone else. We’ll have a lot of planning to do. First—”

  “A venue, of course,” he said.

  “No, first I get back to the firing range. I really need to know how to protect myself. I mean, neither of us is ever going to leave what we do. Then...”

  “A wedding party!” Craig said, grinning.

  “Then we get settled in your place, and see to it that we have a good alarm system.”

  He laughed. “No dress, huh?”

  She shrugged. “Somewhere along the line. As for venue...well, the church where Sister Teresa is interred, of course, and the party after...”

  “Finnegan’s on Broadway. Where else?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “First things first. The gun range. Beautifully romantic!” he said.

  “No one ever said our jobs were full of glamour and romance.”

  “That’s all right. I can work on the romance,” he said.