Beachcomber Baby

by Stephanie Queen

  “Tell your men I’m on their side when they get here, Toly, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “Don’t worry, comrade. Bring my Lara back to me. And be safe.”

  Dane thought of telling the old man that Dane would be taking his granddaughter on a short detour to the FBI’s office, but this wasn’t the right time. He signed off the call and hoped to hell he wasn’t going to get stuck in a gunfight in between two opposing teams of Russian thugs. He had the edge so far. He needed to get in and out as fast as he could—if luck was with him—before the Russian backups arrived.

  Dane ran down an alley along the left side of the warehouse building and found the door at the end of the building. He didn’t have a key, but Toly had said he could shoot the lock. Of course if he did that, he might as well get a trumpet and announce his arrival. Instead, he pulled a pick from his wallet and got busy. This was an old building and the door was original—so was the lock. He was glad he didn’t need to go to the backup plan and jimmy the door off the hinges. Or try to break the big old fortress in with his foot—he’d have likely ended up with a broken leg.

  He snicked the lock open and turned the knob, then pocketed his pick and wallet. He pushed the door open slowly to a dark office. It was empty. He could see the whole twelve-by-twelve interior from where he stood. As Toly promised, there was another door on the opposite side of the room leading to a back hall with several more offices and a storeroom on one side and the big open warehouse on the other side.

  It was time to play a game of guess what’s behind door number one. He moved across the room and went through the opposite door into the back hall. It was lit by low-wattage ceiling lights at insufficiently intermittent distances unless you happened to be a mole. Dane stood still and let his eyes adjust and he listened. For anything. Not a peep. No moaning, no shuffling, no screaming, no breathing, no commotion or movement of any kind. He’d bet his life the place was empty.

  He moved forward on that bet.

  He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing and tried to slow his heart, regulate it, and give himself the calm to open the first door. He stood to the left side, reached out, turned the doorknob and pushed it open. He listened—nothing. He entered, switched the light on, and saw the room was empty. It was an office. The next room was the same. The third door was the last door. He pushed it open and found a kitchen with a couch. On it laid a woman who sat up when she saw it was him. She looked scared. She looked like Paulette.

  Dane went to her, scooped her up, conscious of the clock ticking for Anatoly’s men. Then there was the FBI ASAC waiting back at David’s office. He carried Lara out the way he’d come and once they got outside he put her down and held onto her wrist—he didn’t want her to bolt.

  “Your grandfather sent me to get you and bring you back. Where’s Spartak?”

  “I don’t know. How do I know my grandfather sent you? I don’t know who you are.” She yanked on her arm to pull away. This would go a lot easier if she was cooperative. It occurred to him it would go a lot better if Shana were here and he tried a little mental telepathy to get her from the car—then gave that up and gave her a call on his phone.

  “Is the coast clear?”

  “So far no sign of Anatoly’s men, but there’s an unmarked car with a couple of suits inside that looks suspiciously like the feds.”

  “Have they seen me yet?”

  “I don’t know—hard to tell. Do you have the girl?”

  “Yes. We’re on our way.” He ended the call and looked at Lara, then sighed and dropped her wrist.

  “Okay. Sorry for manhandling you. I’m a private investigator and I was hired by Father Donahue to protect Paulette—”

  “Paulette—is she all right? Where is she? Does—”

  “Take it easy. She’s safe. She’s far away from here. We need to get you back to your grandfather’s place. Are you with me?”

  She looked at him for a beat and then nodded. He took her hand this time and led her back out to the street staying as low as possible and angling back toward the car, keeping to the shadows and out of sight of the FBI car. He was still undecided on where exactly he was going to take Lara. He was torn. He didn’t owe the feds, but he owed David. And he owed Toly. Well, maybe not, but Father Donahue owed Toly. And Dane worked for Father Donahue, he reminded himself. And the governor had got Dane into this mess so he could straighten things out with David Young.

  They reached the car and he cracked open the door to let Lara slip in. Shana took off as soon as Dane shut the door behind himself. She made a neat u-turn and got them into the stream of traffic and back to Storrow Drive without incident.

  “How do you know where we’re going?”

  “Back to Anatoly’s place—right?”

  “We were supposed to meet with David Young at his office in Government Center first.”

  “Do you need me to turn around?” She was serious. She’d have probably done a u-turn on Storrow Drive—to hell with the fact that it was a divided highway.

  “No. We’ll conference him in from Toly’s place. Maybe we can Skype. That’ll make him feel better if he can see us, see Lara.”

  “What’s this about the FBI?” Lara said.

  “They want to have a talk with you—about your cousin Spartak.”

  She considered that for a beat while he watched her from his vantage point in the front seat.

  “I can do that—but I need to get my baby back and make sure she’s safe first.”

  “I agree.”

  There was nothing he agreed with more and time was wasting. They needed to get back to that helicopter and to the Vineyard before Spartak got to Paulette. Because he was pretty well convinced at this point that that’s where the man was headed—and he apparently had taken all his men with him. He hoped to hell Spartak had no idea where to look and he hoped to double hell that Cap had his place covered—better yet that he’d moved Paulette and Sassy out of there.

  He needed to call Cap, but he couldn’t place that call in front of Lara. He took out his phone and did something he hated doing, hated counting on—he texted Cap to tell him to make sure the baby was out of the beach shack. He needed vocal confirmation. No telling who was on the other end of a text message. The stupidest form of communication ever invented.

  Chapter 14

  Toly’s dogs greeted them with wagging tails this time and they drove past the open gates into the yard. He’d like to think the welcome was partly for him, but when Lara jumped from the car and into her waiting grandpa’s arms Dane couldn’t kid himself. Toly really did have a heart somewhere under all that Russian flab.

  As soon as they were inside Dane told Toly they had to conduct some business in the study—and Lara had to be there.

  Shana used the computer to set up a Skype call and sat Toly and Lara at the conference table staring at the screen of a Macbook Pro. At least it was the wide-screen version.

  “Who are we talking to? How much of the room are they going to see?” Toly asked some good questions. Shana ignored him as she dialed up David Young.

  “This was the deal, Toly. You agreed to give us your grandson.” Dane wanted to be very clear what was going on.

  “We still don’t have him. My men are scouring the city as we speak, checking out all his known spots. Nothing.”

  Dane looked at him. They both knew where Sparty was. Neither of them would say it in front of Lara. Dane had lots of questions for her, but they were waiting for her to tell her story with the feds listening in. He would make sure he controlled the interview.

  “I just got off the phone with David,” Shana said. “They’re all set on their end.” She lowered her voice before she took her seat next to Lara—in case the young woman needed some handholding encouragement—and said, “We need to get out of here to the heliport within a half hour, no more than two minutes after the interview. The feds are already talking about the possibility of catching up with Spartak on Martha’s Vineyard.”

  “Anyon
e talk to Father Donahue on the status?”

  “The governor and Madeline are keeping him in the loop—they haven’t got a hold of him yet to let him know we found Lara.”

  Dane nodded and went around the other side of the table for eight to sit next to Toly. He held his granddaughter’s hand. Dane was glad someone held her hand. Shana punched in the numbers on the keyboard and made their Skype connection.

  After intense introductions by David to Mark Richards, the ASAC of the FBI’s Boston office, Dane began the interview.

  “Lara, when did you start having problems with Spartak—tell us from the beginning.”

  She gave Dane a long look with her sad blue eyes and, after a squeeze of her hand from Toly, she spoke.

  “When he found out I was pregnant, my own cousin—Spartak—wanted my baby for his farm to sell to strangers. I refused. I wanted my baby. At first I thought he was maybe trying to help me, thinking I didn’t want the baby. But then he threatened to tell Grandpa about the baby—thinking that would scare me—so naturally I threatened to tell our grandfather about his baby farm.”

  She stopped, looked down, and took a breath. Dane let her pause and met Toly’s eyes. He hoped the old man wouldn’t back out of protecting her for some foolish reason. But Lara looked up and, still dry-eyed, she continued.

  “That’s when Spartak threatened to kill the baby’s father. He said that our grandfather wouldn’t care about that. He said that even soft old grandpa would understand it was business—or family honor.” Her voice cracked, but she shook her head when Shana offered her water, then continued.

  “Of course I refused to tell him who the baby’s father was. We were at a standoff but I needed help and so I tracked down Father Donahue.”

  Toly said, “You could have come to me—”

  “I know—”

  Dane needed to keep this on track. They couldn’t afford to get mired in family melodrama. He ignored the tug of misery and conscience and prompted Lara.

  “What about Father Donahue?” He hoped she wouldn’t mention that he was the father of her baby in front of the FBI. And she didn’t.

  But what she revealed was more shocking than that.

  Chapter 15

  Lara nodded her head and went on in a confident voice.

  She said, “I knew we had a priest in the family. Father Donahue is my uncle—Grandpa’s son.”

  He heard Shana suck in a breath and Dane felt his game face slip before he could stop the surprise from showing. Lara stopped talking and looked around at the shocked faces. Toly spoke next.

  “What is it? You think the Ivanov family is all bad? I am proud of my son the priest.”

  “Your son’s name is Donahue?”

  Toly waved his hand. “That was his mother’s doing. After she took my son and left me.” Toly looked away and stared grimly at a wall. He was finished sharing his family history.

  Dane regained his equilibrium, rearranging everything he thought about the priest, about Paulette and the blackmail and tried putting the puzzle pieces back together to create a new picture. But it was too much to do and Lara needed to go on with her story.

  David Young asked, “You went to your uncle, Father Donahue, for help, Lara?”

  “How did you find him?” Toly couldn’t help asking, the pride and wonder beaming from his face.

  She answered her grandpa first. “You refused to talk about it but I knew we had a priest—Mama told me about him. She loved him—her little brother. I found papers in your secret drawer one night and kept the contact information—maybe I knew I’d need help someday. So when Spartak made that threat, I knew he was out of control and I didn’t want family bloodshed—I knew if I told you that’s what would happen.” She stopped and looked around. Poor girl was probably realizing she would likely end up with family bloodshed after all.

  “I needed help and I arranged to meet him one night at the Garage Club.”

  Dane asked, “Why at the Club?”

  “I wanted Spartak to see us meet and think he was the baby’s father. Then I would convince them—Spartak and his followers—that they could get some money for the baby by blackmail. So he would back off the baby farm plan.”

  “Father Donahue agreed to this plan—agreed to play patsy?” Dane asked.

  “Yes. Willingly. It was his plan. He knew who I was without me explaining. He’d always known who I was and about my life. He said he’d help however he could and to call him or come to him anytime. He meant it. He is truly a kind, generous soul.”

  Dane and Shana looked at each other.

  Madeline Grace had been right about him and his amazement grew—at Father Donahue’s acting ability and Madeline Grace’s ability to read character.

  Lara went on with her story.

  “I had the baby and I told Grandpa about her. He came around because Paulette is beautiful and she has the Ivanov family resemblance. He fell in love with her.”

  Dane could identify with falling in love with a sweet baby girl. All too well. He cleared his throat and hoped no one noticed the sweat breaking out on his brow.

  “For a while I didn’t hear from my cousin but I knew they were still blackmailing our uncle. I sent money to my uncle to help. I did not tell Grandpa this. I was not sure how much Grandpa knew about the baby farm.

  “But then I was visited by my cousin—less than a week ago. He pretended to be my boyfriend in front of my friend. He told me he was still planning to sell Paulette. I screamed bloody murder and ran with the baby—right there on campus I ran into the most crowded building—the student union—and left the stroller behind.

  “After I knew he was gone, I called the campus police and had them escort me to an address in Boston where I told them I lived—it was near Father Donahue—my uncle’s church. I wrote a note and left Paulette with him.

  “Of course my cousin and his two thugs came looking for me the next day and I wouldn’t tell them where the baby was. So they took me away to his apartment in Brighton and locked me in a room and said they’d find the baby anyway. I told them they’d never get away with it, that Grandpa would know. Spartak laughed and said he didn’t care—he said once they had the baby there would be nothing the old man could do about it. He said they planned to make sure Grandpa knew about him having Paulette.

  “My cousin planned to use Paulette and her sale as his message to Grandpa that he was in charge of the Ivanov family business now. He said he planned to make sure everyone knew who Paulette was.”

  Mark Richards had been furiously writing notes and was about to ask a question, but Dane cut him off.

  “Continue your story, Lara. What did you say when Spartak told you about his plan to take over the Ivanov family business?”

  “I told him he may as well kill me and he said I was too important a chip in the chess game—the ignorant slob doesn’t even know how to use a metaphor. But of course he is smart enough to know I probably gave the baby to Father Donahue—who he thinks is the father—ignorant—he doesn’t know about our uncle being a priest.”

  Dane took over the story. He glanced once at the clock and then turned to the computer screen. “Spartak and his thugs went to the church and were going to take the baby but the nun pushed back and they shot her. A commotion ensued so they ran.”

  “When the hell were you going to report the kidnapping, Blaise?” the ASAC said.

  Shana said, “You can talk to Governor Douglas about that. We didn’t arrive until the next day. When we showed up at the Garage Club asking for Lara by name our cover was blown—we lead—” Dane shushed her.

  “So if Spartak Ivanov now knows Father Donahue sent you, how does he know who you are?”

  “He doesn’t,” Dane lied. “But what’s to stop him from contacting the priest—or someone from his rectory office—to find out?”

  The ASAC turned to David, “Let’s get someone down to that church right away.”

  To David’s credit, he didn’t tell the man they’d already had the re
ctory covered since Dane and Shana had their encounter at the club.

  But Dane and Shana exchanged a glance. He realized that they were blown and that it was a matter of time before Spartak found out who they were and that they operated from the Vineyard. They’d have trouble finding the beach shack—Dane made sure there was no trail. But if they asked around the island it wouldn’t take them too long. Spartak would know that the baby had been at their beach shack. They didn’t need the FBI to jump to the same conclusion and send their guys to intercept Spartak. That would be far too dangerous for Paulette.

  Dane and Shana needed to get back to the Vineyard.

  Dane stood and moved from the camera’s frame and gestured to Shana to cut the call. She told David they’d call him to follow up, then cut the connection.

  “We’re out of here, Toly.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No. That’s not the deal. You heard the ASAC Richards. If you show up there with Spartak you’re fair game. You stay with Lara—and keep your…. assistants here with you.”

  The old man stood still and stared him down for too many beats for comfort, but then he nodded.

  “Go.”

  Dane met Shana at the doorway, took her arm out of habit, and rushed her to the front door in a half run—before Toly or his assistants or the dogs could stop them.

  Dane jumped into the copter at the governor’s helipad and waved the pilot off.

  “Sir, I can’t allow—”

  “Talk to your boss, Governor Douglas. Call him now while I do the instrument check.” Dane could give him a minute to get the okay from Peter, but if the guy gave him a hard time when he was ready for flight, he’d have Shana punch him. She stood on the tarmac with him, slightly bent and hands on her hips.