by Lisa Childs
Reyes was the Bureau’s expert on organized crime. A former gang member, the guy could handle himself undercover. But there had been no time to bring him in.
“Chekov wouldn’t have trusted some guy off the street,” Nick explained, “no matter what background we established for Reyes.”
“So you don’t have an agent on the inside?”
“I have someone undercover on the inside,” Nick admitted. But he wasn’t an agent.
“How’d you get someone inside so quickly?”
“It’s someone who used to work for Chekov, someone who once dated his daughter.”
Lynch whistled. “Sounds like he might be Chekov’s next victim.”
Nicholas was already worried that might be the case.
“Let me know if you need Dalton,” Lynch said. “I’ll send him up to help.”
Nick thanked his boss before hanging up. He appreciated the offer. But as he stared down at the man on the slab, he worried he’d already waited too long to accept help. And he might have cost Garek Kozminski his life.
Chapter 12
Cold penetrated Garek’s coat and flesh, chilling him to the bone. Just a short while ago, he’d been warm. Hell, he’d been hot—driving deep inside Candace’s body. He had made love to her again and again. Then he’d held her, tightly, so she wouldn’t slip away from him like she had that first night.
He wouldn’t lose her like he’d worried he had. But then he had wound up having to leave her. She hadn’t awakened when his cell rang or when he loosened his hold on her and slipped from the bed.
“Why’d you summon me here?” Garek asked as he glanced around the morgue and shuddered. He’d rather have met him in an alley again. But nobody was likely to witness them together here.
And it had been a summons—not a request. He had been given no opportunity to refuse. But Rus had promised there was a police detail watching his place, watching Candace to make sure she stayed safe even after he’d left her. Without that promise, Garek would have refused to leave her—no matter how pissed Rus might have been.
“I need you to identify a body,” the FBI agent replied. He pointed to the one lying on the morgue slab.
Garek stared at the body. The guy was big, his skin winter pale but for a profusion of tattoos. He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked like a lot of hired muscle.
“Could he be the guy you saw running out of the alley that night? Or the one who tried running you over?”
Garek peered more closely at the body. And he noticed the scratches. Milek had said Candace had left her mark on the guy. He cursed. Not that he was sad the guy was dead. But now that he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d tried killing Candace.
Had it been personal, like Rus had thought? Someone she’d arrested when she’d been a cop. Or had someone hired him to hurt Candace?
“How’d he die?” he asked. In addition to the tattoos, there were bruises. There was also a hole in his chest, which could have been caused by a bullet or a knife. Due to the autopsy incisions, Garek couldn’t tell which.
“Shot…”
Garek shivered. “I know it’s too soon to tell but could it have been the same gun…”
“It was,” Rus replied. “I rushed the ballistics.”
Garek cursed.
“This is good news,” Rus said, although he didn’t sound all that thrilled either. “The gun is still out there. It killed Candace’s attacker.”
“But who is this guy?” Garek asked. “I don’t recognize him.”
“So you don’t think he works for Chekov?”
Garek shrugged. “I don’t know everyone who works for Chekov. He could have worked for him. But why would Chekov kill him?”
“You know if Viktor Chekov is unsatisfied with your work, you don’t get a pink slip,” Rus said. “You get a toe tag.”
Garek suspected there was more to Tori’s boyfriend’s death than Viktor’s dissatisfaction with Alexander Polinsky’s work. He must have done something else to piss off his boss. Or someone else…
Garek must have pissed him off, too. But instead of going after him, Chekov had sent this goon after Candace. Then he’d killed him. Because the man had failed? Or because Viktor had personally decided to go after her?
“You have to be extra careful,” Rus said. He narrowed his eyes and studied Garek as if trying to see inside his mind. “You can’t afford any distractions.”
Garek sighed; maybe the man had seen inside his mind. There was usually only one thing on it. “Like Candace?”
“She can’t afford for you to be distracted either,” Rus said.
No, she couldn’t. Because if Viktor had decided to go after Candace, it would be hard to save her. Making love with her—while wonderful—had been a mistake. He needed to be totally focused now—for her sake as much as his. Or they would both wind up, like her attacker, in the morgue.
*
Candace had been summoned to the office, Logan’s office. When her cell rang, she’d hurriedly answered it—afraid it might wake Garek. She need not have worried. He was already gone.
When had he left? And where had he gone?
He’d left no note. No explanation.
Had he done it out of vengeance? Getting her back for her leaving while he’d been sleeping that first night they’d spent together?
She hadn’t thought there would be another night. Apparently there shouldn’t have been. She’d just made a fool of herself again—falling for a man who had no respect for her.
But he had had desire. He’d made love to her greedily but also generously. He’d given her even more pleasure than he’d taken. So he cared about her—he had to.
Logan snapped his fingers. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”
Sleep had been the problem. If she’d stayed awake, she would have known why Garek had left and where he’d gone. To Chekov?
What the hell did Chekov want Garek to do for him? Break into one of those museums or art galleries? Was he doing that now?
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You didn’t go to the ER like I told you to,” he said.
Since HIPAA laws prevented him from looking at her medical records, Nikki must have given her up. Candace couldn’t blame her, though; she knew how much the girl hated secrets and lies.
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
“No more attempts on your life?”
She shook her head. Not her life. Just her heart…
For a year Garek had flirted with her and propositioned her. She didn’t know if he’d begun to steal her heart then or if it had happened that first night she’d given in to her attraction to him.
She sighed.
“That disappoints you?” he asked.
She was disappointed in herself—because she’d let her attraction to Garek distract her. Someone had tried to kill her; she needed to find out who and why and how it was related to Garek and Viktor Chekov.
“It disappoints me that I haven’t found out who attacked me.”
He slid a photo across his desk. She picked it up and stared at it. The man’s face had been covered with the mask when he’d attacked her, so she didn’t recognize the meaty features. She recognized the scratches on his neck, though; she had done that. Fortunately, she’d let her nails grow the two weeks she’d been off work. She’d even treated herself to a manicure.
“That’s him,” she said. “Who is he and what happened to him?”
Was that where Garek had gone? To take care of this man?
“Donald Doornbos.”
She shrugged. The name meant nothing to her. “Known associates?”
Logan chuckled. “You’d have to ask Agent Rus. He just sent this over to see if you could identify the man.”
“He’s my attacker,” she said. “But I’ve never seen him before that night.”
“You didn’t arrest him when you were a cop?”
“Rus already knows I didn’t.” Or he would h
ave called her down to River City PD.
Logan took the photo back from her. “Yeah…”
“So does he work for Viktor Chekov?”
“I don’t know,” Logan said. “Rus didn’t say.”
“What did he say?”
“Not much,” Logan replied. And a muscle twitched along his jaw, indicating his irritation. He didn’t like it any more than she did that he didn’t know what was going on.
“Cause of death?”
“Gunshot wound.”
“Who shot him?” Garek? Had it been in self-defense? Or revenge? This was probably the same man who’d tried to run them down in the alley.
“His body was found in a parking lot.”
“Of Chekov’s club?”
Logan shook his head. “No.”
“He could have been killed there or at Chekov’s estate and his body dumped elsewhere.” Everyone assumed that was what had happened with Chekov’s previous employee—Alexander Polinsky. Or at least that was what the officers she still knew on the force had told her.
“This is Rus’s investigation,” Logan said. “Not yours.”
She opened her mouth to argue. But he held up his hand and continued, “You’re a bodyguard now. Not a cop.”
She’d been hearing this a lot lately. She liked protecting people and hadn’t missed being a cop—until now.
“And I have an assignment for you.”
“I thought you wanted to make sure I was cleared medically before you gave me an assignment?”
That muscle twitched again with irritation. This time she had no doubt it was with her. “You’ve been telling me that you’re fine,” he said, tossing her words back at her. “So you’re fine to take an assignment.”
“You’re going to put me on Chekov’s daughter’s protection duty,” she said. It was the only assignment she wanted, so she could find out what the hell was going on with Garek and Viktor Chekov.
“No,” he replied. “You’ve only been off a couple of weeks, so you can’t have forgotten I’m the boss. I give out the assignments.”
She arched a brow in skepticism. “Really? Didn’t Garek bring you Chekov as a client?”
Logan nodded. “He’s brought in other clients, as well.”
The museums and art galleries.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” When she’d criticized his hiring the Kozminskis.
“Garek didn’t want me to,” Logan said.
He had wanted her to think the worst of him. Why? Just for his amusement?
“And the clients Garek brings Payne Protection want to work with Garek,” Logan said. “I have an assignment for you. It’s in Chicago—”
She shook her head. “No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“You don’t need to,” she said. “This isn’t a legit assignment. You just want me out of town.” Probably at Garek’s request.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Apparently his headache had returned. “You’re making me regret hiring you back.”
“Your wife asked me to come back,” she reminded him.
“She shouldn’t have,” he said.
“So you don’t want me working for you?”
“You’re not working for me,” he said. “I have a legit assignment—a female lawyer who has requested a female bodyguard for protection—in Chicago.”
“Send Nikki,” she suggested.
“No,” he said. “I need one of my best bodyguards on this assignment.”
“Nikki could be—if you’d give her a chance.”
Beyond just irritated, he glared at her now. She waited for him to fire her. But he just shook his head.
“When someone was trying to kill you, did you leave the state to protect someone else?” she asked.
“They weren’t trying to kill me,” he said. “They were trying to kill Parker.”
“You didn’t know that at the time,” she said.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“No,” she agreed. “Because you’re no longer in danger.”
“And the guy who was trying to kill you is dead,” he said. “So you’re free to go to Chicago.”
“I’m not free to go anywhere until I know who he was working for,” she said. But she stood up to leave. “And I have my suspicions.”
“All you have are suspicions,” Logan said.
She nodded. “Yes, until I get evidence.”
“Stay away from Chekov,” Logan warned her as she headed for the door. “And stay away from Garek, too.”
She didn’t think that was going to be a problem since she had no idea where he’d gone. So she just nodded again as she walked out of his office. She closed the door with a soft click, turned and nearly collided with Nikki.
Nikki threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. “Thank you!”
“For what?”
“For what you told him—I would be one of the best bodyguards he has if he gave me a chance.”
Candace laughed. “You have his office bugged?”
Nikki pulled back and pressed a finger to her lips then whispered, “Of course.”
“He has no idea how good you are,” Candace said.
Nikki shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll work for Cooper as soon as he starts his franchise. Maybe you should, too.”
She wouldn’t be working for anyone unless she found out who’d hired that man to attack her—because someone must have hired him. And if they’d hired him, they had probably already hired someone else to complete the job. She couldn’t worry about protecting anyone else right now; she had to worry about protecting herself.
*
Stacy touched the twitching muscle along her husband’s jaw first with her fingertips and then with her lips. His hands caught her waist and pressed her against him. He lowered his head and kissed her lips. While her passion ignited, he hadn’t distracted her from her concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
He shook his head and glanced around the room at the rest of his family. They’d all gathered at Penny’s to decorate her Christmas tree. Christmas was still a couple of weeks away, but the wedding planner liked to decorate early so she could enjoy her tree.
But Penny, being Penny, had fed them all first. Now she handed an ax to Nicholas Rus.
The FBI agent looked horrified. He had been uncomfortable all through dinner, too—as if he hadn’t expected to be included in a family tradition. He didn’t know how welcoming and loving Penny Payne was.
“Now it’s time to cut down the tree,” Penny told him. “The best ones are in back of the house.”
Rus handed the ax to Cooper, the former marine. “I’ve never cut down a tree before.”
“You can’t swing an ax?” Parker teased him.
Parker was like Garek in that he always teased. With Parker, it was just a natural part of his personality. With her brother Garek, it was a coping mechanism—not for himself but for her and Milek. Since they’d been kids, he’d joked with them to make them feel better and worry less.
“Maybe he just doesn’t want to,” Nikki said as she pulled on her hat and headed toward the door. She took the ax from Cooper.
And Logan dropped his hands from Stacy and hurried after his sister. There was no way he would let Nikki swing the ax; he worried she might hurt herself—which was the same reason he wouldn’t give her a protection assignment. He needed to let up or he risked losing her—like Stacy felt she had lost her brothers.
Cooper and Parker hurried out after Logan. Their wives—Tanya and Sharon—had chosen cleanup duty in the kitchen over trudging out in the snow. Like Stacy, they also wanted to stay inside the house with their babies who slept in the nursery Penny had decorated for her new grandbabies. Tanya and Cooper’s son was just a month older than baby Penny. Parker and Sharon had two children; his two-year-old son who’d fallen asleep despite his protests he wasn’t tired and their month-old daughter.
Penny touched Nicho
las Rus’s shoulder. “Go ahead,” she urged. “Help them pick out a tree.”
He looked as horrified as he had when she’d handed him the ax. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said. “It seems like Nikki is already upset.”
“That’s my husband’s fault,” Stacy said. “Not yours.”
He turned to her with a skeptical look. Nikki had made her opinion of him clear.
Penny sighed. She knew it, too. She grabbed a coat from the hook by the door. “I’m going to make sure they pick one with full enough branches.” She turned back to Rus. “You are welcome to join us.”
He nodded, but he didn’t move toward the door. She sighed again and headed out.
“She means it,” Stacy said. “She welcomed me and my brothers into her family, too.” Penny was warm and inviting and forgiving.
Her brightly decorated Victorian farmhouse was a reflection of her warmth. A fire burned in the hearth.
“Your brothers aren’t here.”
“No,” she said and a pang struck her heart. Would they forgive her before Christmas? “And that’s my fault.”
He shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself.”
There was something in his tone—something that caught her attention. She studied his face, and she saw the guilt flicker in eyes that were the same brilliant blue of her husband’s. “You know that Garek’s involved with Viktor Chekov. You even know what it’s about, don’t you?” Another pang struck her heart. “Oh, God, Milek’s involved, too.”
She’d reached out to him to help Garek. Instead she’d put him in danger, too.
Rus didn’t deny it. He refused to say anything at all. But she saw the worry on his face. And she knew she wasn’t the only one concerned that she might lose her brothers. Forever.
Chapter 13
The door swung back and forth in a broken jamb. Someone hadn’t just picked his lock this time. They’d broken down his door. His heart hammered with fear. Had Candace been inside when it had happened?
Rus had promised he would call Garek if the agents following Candace saw any threat. This was damn sure a threat. He drew his weapon from his holster. But this threat was meant for him.
Gun drawn, he stepped inside his apartment. Viktor Chekov sat in the middle of his couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. At either end of the couch stood a man with a gun—the barrels pointed at Garek.
