Randy Holmes didn’t mind sitting at the hospital; he seemed to be a good cop, ready to do what was needed. He was a patient man, a team player.
He’d wait forever, if that’s what was asked of him.
David Beard was more restless; he was ready to be out chasing whatever slim leads they had—he’d been trying for five years to catch a killer.
When Craig hurried out to the street to meet up with Mike, the cops were standing in front of the hospital entry, still discussing their plans.
Lance Kendall was stoic. “McBride is on the street. I’m here. That’s how we’re working it,” he said with a shrug. “I know that Miss Finnegan is deeply involved in all this. Go see that she’s safe. Nothing will happen here that you don’t get wind of immediately. You’re on my speed dial—I swear it.”
Kendall tried to smile. He wasn’t very good at it, but his lips did move a little. He did clearly want to get along with his fellow NYPD colleagues, the Bureau men and whoever else he wound up working with.
Craig knew it was ego to ever think he was the only officer or agent capable of solving his cases—most cases were solved by the hard work of a number of people.
And he did have to get to Kieran.
He was watching Mike’s car come around the corner down the block when he heard his phone ring.
The call was from Danny Finnegan’s number. “Kieran? I’m here. What’s going on?”
She didn’t reply. He could hear noise in the background.
“Kieran? What is it? You all right?”
But he couldn’t hear her.
He could hear, though—as if from a great distance, or as if coming from a cave—another speaker. The sound was faint.
He quickly fell silent himself, listening. Straining to hear.
He could make out a cold, detached, controlled voice.
“I’ve got a razor-sharp blade with your name on it. My knife can be quick or slow. But it is going to hurt, and you’re going to die. I mean, will you care how it happened once you are dead? Dead is dead. But I’ll know. And I care that it hurts.”
Craig didn’t call Kieran’s name again; he just held his phone in a death grip as he continued to listen.
Where the hell was Mike?
There!
Mike pulled up in front, and Craig hopped into the passenger’s seat of the car, phone glued to his ear as he waved out an arm, indicating that his partner should drive.
Mike understood instantly, but he frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Craig covered the microphone on the phone. “I don’t know. It sounds like there is someone at the door of Wolff’s safe house. Get there, Mike—get there as fast as you can,” he said.
Then, through the phone, Craig heard Danny whispering urgently. “Kieran, trust me—there’s a woman there, too. Listen. She told him to go around back and shoot the damned door. Kieran, they’ll get through. There’s only one bolt on that door. If they shoot...”
“Maybe we should let him come around—and we bolt out the front the second it happens. They won’t expect that. They...” She sounded scared, but Craig was grateful to hear her voice.
“You’re crazy! Don’t you think that whispering bitch out front has a gun, too?” Danny demanded.
“Have you got a better idea? I’m fresh out!” Kieran’s voice said in a heated whisper that came through the phone line with an eerie, fatalistic sound.
Mike was tearing through the streets at reckless speed, but he glanced from the road ahead of him to Craig. “What’s happening?” he demanded. “It’s going to be all right. It’s not far, Craig—not far at all,” Mike said as he took a corner with tires squealing in protest. “I’d call for backup, but I swear we’ll make it before anyone else could.”
Craig heard Kieran shouting.
“You despicable creatures!” Kieran raved loudly and angrily, her voice carrying clearly out of the phone’s speaker. “You listen to me, you homicidal maniacs. Do your best! Huff and puff away. Police and FBI agents are hurrying here at this moment. Hell! And Homeland Security and the US Marshals office—they’re all involved. And you’re the one who is going to be dead. Dead, dead, dead. And it’s not going to matter how you got that way, right? It’s not going to matter! But you will be the dead ones!”
“I think she’s pissed,” Mike murmured.
“Get there, Mike, for the love of God...”
“I’ll pull into the alley. The place is shot anyway—they’ll need a new safe house. Sorry! I’m there, I’m there...”
“That’s it, right? Turn the corner. We’re there!”
Mike jerked the car around the corner and came to a jarring halt.
There it was. The door to Jacob Wolff’s safe house.
Craig leapt out of the passenger’s seat and started running down the alley.
* * *
There was a furious, hard slam against the front door again.
And then nothing.
Danny gripped Kieran, pulling her close.
“You either really pissed them off or...well, pissing off people like that isn’t exactly a good thing. He was making one good point. Dead might be dead, but getting there... I mean, a bullet to the brain might be a lot easier than that maniac’s knife. Not that we’re going to die. Nope! We’re going to be just fine...” Danny said.
They heard footsteps, running.
Something slammed against the door again.
Kieran’s breath went out in a whoosh.
But then she heard her name.
Her name...
In Craig’s voice.
“Here, here! We’re in here, we’re fine, all fine!” she cried.
“Careful!” Danny warned.
“It’s me! It’s Craig!”
Kieran didn’t need more; she unbolted the lock and threw the door open.
Craig stood there. She nearly knocked him over, throwing herself into his arms. He held her tightly for a moment. She felt the way his entire body was trembling.
He loved her. He really loved her. She’d known it, and yet, tonight, she felt it. More than ever, felt it even in the way that he touched her.
He pulled away. “What the hell were you doing? Egan had sent you to Finnegan’s!”
“I told you I was worried.”
“She really was,” Danny said.
Craig looked at Danny and reached out a hand, drawing him in. For a moment, Kieran feared that Craig would be angry with her brother.
“Thank God you were with her!” Craig muttered.
Apparently, he wasn’t angry with Danny. As much as Craig and her brothers treated her as an equal...
When it came to danger, she was always going to be a girl!
“A building exploded, Craig. A building I thought that you had walked into!” Kieran said, making her own voice hard and stern. “As to being safe... Your buddy, Jacob, had us lock ourselves in here. To be safe. But, Craig, there were people here. Trying to get in. Threatening us! I guess you didn’t see them, but I swear I’m telling the truth. They would have gotten in in just another few minutes. All they had to do was shoot the bolt. I don’t know why they didn’t...”
“I heard them,” Craig said. “I heard them talking, Kieran—through Danny’s phone.”
“Oh! So I did call you.”
“You did. And I heard you and—”
They heard footsteps. It was frightening—in a good way—to see how quickly Craig pulled his gun and turned.
He just as quickly holstered his gun behind his back as they saw that it was Mike.
Mike was panting.
He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, still breathing heavily as he tried to talk.
“Ran...down the alley...they might have disappeared into thin air. Or into a window. I thought I saw movement. I ran, I gave chase... Nothing. Not even a wisp disappearing. Hell, aliens might have abducted them. They’re just gone.”
“They know the neighborhood. They—whoever they may be—must have had eyes on Jacob Wolff. Jacob kept a good cover. But maybe someone either followed us the other day when we were with him after the restaurant, or someone followed him tonight when he was with Kieran and Danny. They had someone here.”
“It wasn’t just a few disposable lackeys,” Kieran said suddenly. “It was them. As in the King and Queen, Craig. I... I mean, he was so comfortable with himself, with threatening me, and he had no accent whatsoever. Middle American, I guess. TV American accent, if there is such a thing. And the woman... I don’t think that English was her first language.”
“How can you know? We couldn’t hear her!” Danny said.
“We heard her a little. And I don’t think that she was American. And if I’m right, and if everything I’ve learned from Riley and Tanya is true...their King is American. And his Queen is from somewhere else. And we know they were out there today—others were trying to escape them, Craig. A woman shoved by Danny, telling someone that the King was in the crowd. Then we ran into Wolff, and he brought us here. Craig! You need experts—people who can check the doors, who can look for footprints—oh! Maybe one of them touched the door. Maybe there are fingerprints. Maybe there’s...something!”
“Hey, the place is totally compromised, anyway,” Mike said, looking at Craig.
Craig stared at Kieran, nodding.
“Where is your phone?” he asked her.
“In my purse. It was crushed. I didn’t lose it.”
“That’s good,” he said quietly, drawing out his own. He stepped aside and she could hear him talking rapidly. When he came back, he told them all, “Crime scene teams will be here soon. Every officer in the area has been warned to watch out for the King and the Queen, and they’ve all been briefed on the situation.”
“No one knows what they look like,” Kieran said.
“Yeah. That makes it hard. But we’ll be on the lookout for anything unusual. Egan wants me to get everyone safely home for some rest.”
“I hope he’s including me in that,” Mike said. “I’m really tired.”
“Yeah, Mike, I have a car near Kieran’s—you can drop us, and then keep the car we had today. That work for you?”
“Yep, fine. But...” Mike paused, glancing at Kieran. “What about the—the hospital?”
“Hospital?” Kieran asked anxiously. “Craig, who...?”
“We don’t know. The man who was reported to be dead is actually alive, but barely hanging on.”
“Yep, clinging to life,” Mike said. “He’s burned to pieces. More than half-dead.”
Craig told Danny and Kieran, “That’s not information anyone but law enforcement has. It’s important that this gang—the heads of it, King and Queen, whatever royalty or lackeys—don’t get wind of the fact that he isn’t dead already. I think he wanted to die—that would have been a guarantee that he’d paid for whatever he’d done wrong, and his family wouldn’t have to pay the price. Never saw a man so afraid of living. We don’t have to go back to the hospital tonight. He’s in a medically induced coma. He won’t be speaking to anyone until tomorrow—and even that’s unlikely. Detectives Kendall and Holmes will be staying, watching over him. And, I do have an idea for tomorrow, bright and early, but as for now...”
“Home,” Mike said happily. “Danny, I don’t know where you live—”
“He’s coming to my place,” Kieran said.
“I am?” Danny asked. “Hey, come on, you can’t boss me around anymore, Kieran. Love you, sis, but honest to God—”
“Danny, please. I was scared to death,” Kieran said.
“But now Craig is with you.”
“I was scared to death for you as well as me!” Kieran told him. “Humor me. Please, let me get some sleep tonight.”
Danny looked at Craig.
Craig shrugged.
“I don’t care what we do—let’s get home for tonight,” Craig said.
Kieran didn’t argue. His arm was around her as they headed for the car. As they did so, a van belonging to the crime scene unit came driving in.
Craig urged Kieran forward, letting Mike get her into the car while he went to speak to the head of the unit. Then he joined them in the car.
It was a quiet ride back to Manhattan.
Halfway there, Kieran turned to Craig next to her in the back seat of the Bureau’s sedan.
“What is your idea for tomorrow?”
“Riley and Tanya.”
“What about them?”
“I want to see if they can identify our mystery man. Our man in the hospital. He’s in a bad way, Kieran. Really bad. He may not make it. I’m not sure his mother could recognize him. We’ve still got to try.”
“Of course,” Kieran murmured. “That does sound like a plan. But what if they do have eyes everywhere? What if we’re seen going to the hospital? Won’t that lead the killers right to a man they really want to be dead?”
“Nope. You won’t recognize Riley or Tanya. Or me, for that matter,” Craig promised.
Kieran groaned inwardly. Craig was a master of makeup and disguise. He was experienced at undercover operations.
But it scared her. She wanted to know what fail-safes were in place.
Then it occurred to Kieran that if Craig was occupied at the hospital with the survivor and Riley and Tanya, she just might have the opportunity to try to see the baby.
With that thought in mind, she murmured something about the fact that while they were still scared, Tanya and Riley were wonderfully ready to help the police and the Bureau at any time.
It took about thirty minutes to reach Kieran’s street in the St. Mark’s area of Manhattan. When Mike parked the car, Danny looked at her with his eyebrows raised—probably hoping that she was going to tell him just to go home. But when she didn’t budge, he seemed to give up and he got out of the car along with her and Craig. They bid Mike good-night; he and Craig would talk in the morning.
In the sushi restaurant, someone was warbling out a frightening rendition of Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
“Last time, I think it was a lady auditioning for The Lion King,” Danny said. “Feast or famine entertainment-wise here, huh?”
“You can’t hear it upstairs,” Kieran said.
“You can’t hear it? You’ve lived here too long.”
“Danny, I haven’t even been here three years,” Kieran protested. “Come on, please, be nice. I’ll make grilled cheese. We’ll all go to bed.”
“Or to couch,” Danny muttered.
Kieran let out a sigh of frustration. “To couch, whatever!”
“Shower,” Craig said. “I smell like a burning building. I think I even smell like...” His voice trailed, but they were both staring at him. “Burning flesh,” he said quietly.
“Yes, you need a shower!” Kieran told him. “And your clothing needs to be sterilized!”
Inside, he headed straight for her room and the en suite shower. She wanted to follow him.
She wanted to make sure Danny was okay, too.
“Hey, you made me come here!” Danny told her. “What? Am I putting a bit of a snag in your romantic expectations for the evening? Wait, you’ve been living together a long time.”
“Someone could have followed us. You shouldn’t be on your own tonight,” Kieran said firmly.
“Well, I’m here. And I’m fine. Go and talk and cuddle...or whatever. I don’t want to know. I’ll get the grilled cheese started.”
Kieran nodded, biting her lower lip. Then she hurried into the bedroom, shedding her clothing to join Craig in the shower—and wondering if she had created an awkward situation.
Still, she slipped beneath the cascading water and wrapped her arms around Craig, pressing herself against his back. He stood very still for a long moment. Warmth and steam rose around them while the water beat down.
Suddenly he spun around, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close.
“Marry me,” he said.
She looked at him, startled. It wasn’t something that they hadn’t talked about before—they just hadn’t been in any hurry. They were young; they were career oriented. They were happy as things were.
“I... Where did that come from so suddenly?” she asked.
“We’ve lived together for almost two years,” he reminded her. “Your place mostly, sometimes my place...”
“We do need to pick one place to live,” she murmured.
“Yes, and...well, I always thought that eventually we’d get married.”
“We really should,” she said. She smiled, feeling a surge of joy. “We’ll need an Irish priest. You know my family.”
“An Irish priest,” he agreed.
He pulled her close. She felt the naked flesh of his chest against her cheek and felt the hard pounding of his heart. He kissed her and ran his fingers down her spine, and then back up again, and with the touch she was pressed closer to his body, closing her eyes, caught for a minute in nothing but sensation.
Maybe they were done talking...
“I was truly frightened today,” he told her. “Mike couldn’t find you. And your phone...”
They weren’t.
“It broke. I’m so sorry.”
“Things happen. You shouldn’t have to be sorry. I was just beyond scared. And I thought about life...our lives. And I think we should get married.”
“I think that we should get married, but...”
Because it’s right, because we’re ready...not because of fear...
She never said the words. His phone started to ring. He moved back, pulled the curtain aside, and stepped out of the tub.
She heard him speaking curtly to someone. It was mainly a lot of “Oh?”
“Yes.” And “No.”
“Craig?” she asked.
She realized that he’d hung up and stepped out of the bathroom. When she emerged, wrapped in one of their large fluffy bath towels and headed into the bedroom, she found that he was almost dressed.
“You’re going out now?” she asked.
“I have to.”
“So...what’s up? Where are you going? I should probably be with you, you know.”
She waited for the argument from him.
It didn’t come.
“We’re going out now—all of us,” he said. “You, me and Danny.”
“Oh? Where?”
“We’re meeting up with Detectives Beard, Holmes and Kendall—and Riley and Tanya,” he added softly. “Their new keepers—the US Marshals Madison Smyth and Hank LeBlanc—will be following, watching out for whatever is going on. We’ll fix up at the safe house.”
“Oh. Well, good. I do help with Riley and Tanya and—”
“And I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“I’d be with Danny.”
“I love your brother, Kieran. He’s an amazing man—fiercely loyal, almost to a dangerous point. And in a fair fight, I’d back him against a bigger guy because he’s a smart fighter, too. But your brother is not a killer. And he’s not even licensed to have a firearm. It’s not a good time for anyone to be alone, so...he’ll hang with us. It will be great.”
She had to smile. “For now.”
“For now. We are going to get these guys—the whole racket, men, women, whoever they may be. We are going to get them. I swear it.”
Kieran nodded. “I’ll be dressed in five. But... I am a bit confused. Why now? Why not in the morning?”
Craig let out a breath. “Our man...the man we found who survived the explosion. He may not make it. One of the doctors has suggested that if we want someone to identify him, now—despite his condition—would be a better time than if...than if he does die.”
“I see,” Kieran murmured. She was sorry—at least she thought that she was sorry. If the man in the hospital had caused misery to anyone—to the captive immigrant women or their babies—she wasn’t sure if the pain he was surely suffering now was enough to make up for what he’d done to others.
But maybe he was a victim himself.
“I’m ready in a minute,” she assured him. She hurried to her dresser and tossed out undergarments and then headed for the closet where she quickly grabbed an easy pullover knit dress. When it was over her head, she spun back to look at him.
“Craig.”
“Yes?”
“What about Sister Teresa? She wound up forgotten today.”
“Not forgotten, I promise.”
“Then?”
“She died of a heart attack. There is still lab work being processed. And that takes time, even when the guys at the top of the heap are ordering faster-than-a-speeding-bullet results. Kieran, I know she became special to you in just a short time, but...she was nearly a hundred. We should all be so blessed.”
“I know.”
“If she was murdered—if she was hastened toward death in any way—we will find justice for her, along with the others,” Craig vowed.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, I guess we have to go let Danny know that he’s still in a hot spot. Well, he does want to be NYC’s top tourist guide. We give him more stories all the time. We’re really doing him a favor.”
Kieran laughed. “If he’s prepared the grilled cheese sandwiches, I’m going to suggest we eat them as we run. Let’s get going.”
* * *
There was no way to treat a man in the condition of the one who’d survived the explosion and fire other than at the finest burn center in the city. He was fighting for his life with the help of some of the best doctors in the world, Craig was certain.
But he couldn’t be taken out and hidden anywhere else.
And that made trying to identify him extremely difficult.
While a press conference had clearly stated that the one man found in the building had been deceased, they couldn’t count on it remaining secret that a survivor had been taken to a hospital. The burn unit might be under watch.
So while any number of police officers might easily go in and out of the wards—often enough, criminals in the custody of protective services were in the hospital, or an officer might be there on personal business—the motley crew of agents and witnesses couldn’t be seen.
When Craig, Kieran and Danny arrived at the safe house, Riley’s beautiful red hair was covered in a short black wig; Tanya had become a brunette. They were dressed in generic jeans and nondescript T-shirts.
Madison Smyth and Hank LeBlanc were in similar apparel, and a policewoman was waiting to see that Kieran was duly wigged and given a few appearance-changing bolsters.
It turned out she was going to be fitted with butt padding. Craig couldn’t help but be amused by her horror at the situation.
“Actually,” he whispered to her, “it’s kind of hot.”
She glared at him evilly. “What? My derriere is not big enough as it is?”
“It’s perfect—sorry! You just have to look kind of different than usual—that’s what they’re going for,” he told her.
“Great. And you get ‘surfer dude.’”
“I’ve been just about everything at some point.”
Egan had made the arrangements; Craig discovered that it had been Riley’s idea, and that it had been Kieran’s discussions with Riley and Tanya that had led to it.
The operation, as they had known, was a big one. Set up just like a monarchy. There was a king and a queen. There was a royal court that consisted of their hired guns, killers, people as bad as they were. Then there were slaves.
Alexandra Callas had been a slave. She had watched over captives; she had been forced to do so, and then her concern for her friends had held her as much prisoner as any outside threat.
This man might have been in the same position. But Craig believed that it was most likely he had followed orders because his family had been threatened. Why he had been set up to be killed, Craig wasn’t sure. Maybe they believe that he’d betrayed them somehow, that something he had done had led to the possible discovery of the warehouse, and thus he’d needed his punishment.
If his family was in the States somewhere, the FBI might be able to help them.
With Riley and Tanya helping them, they hoped to find out.
Craig was to arrive with Tanya and Kieran on his arms; they would be loaded with gifts for a new baby, and appear to be heading to the maternity ward.
Mike, Danny and Riley would be together, friends with cards and gifts for a friend in the orthopedic section—one of the city’s football players who had suffered an ankle injury.
The US Marshals and other detectives and uniformed officers would follow up, with Smyth and LeBlanc lead on protection. Lance Kendall and Randy Holmes had remained at the hospital since their man had gone in; Larry McBride would be among those on the team watching for any attackers—and watching for anyone who might be watching.
The police backup team were good at their jobs; they held their distance, staying unnoticed as the first little group arrived.
Even as Craig handed over the false IDs they’d been assigned for the night, he heard the voice of Randy Holmes through his two-way radio earpiece. “Your nine o’clock, Frasier. TV news is on in front of him—and he’s got a paper. May just be a reader—may not be, you know?”
Craig surreptitiously looked around. The man seemed to be watching them.
Kieran must have sensed something. “A boy! I’m so happy for them, you, Sissy?” she asked Tanya. “I think we’ll have a baby, too, one of these days. If your brother ever decides that we can afford one! Oh, can anyone ever really afford a child? I think not!”
The man looked back down at his paper.
“Might be something, might not,” Craig murmured back to Holmes and everyone else on the communication system.
“We’ll be watching,” Holmes promised.
Craig could see Mike, Danny and Riley as they took their turn and stepped up to offer their IDs and received hospital visitor stickers, as well. Danny took a cue from his sister.
“I love the guy—you know, we went to high school together. And he’s still a good guy. But, you know, what an idiot, getting hurt that way! Don’t you think so, love?” He gave Riley a squeeze.
“Hey, he’s been playing good,” Mike said.
“Yeah, but will he now?”
The man with the paper looked out the door, ignoring their group.
“Good call!” Craig said softly to Holmes.
“Thanks. I’m on him. I’ll be watching.”
Soon, they were all gathered in the small room on the burn floor where Lance Kendall had been holding vigil since their victim had gone in. David Beard had joined him a while ago, and an officer in uniform was keeping guard on the floor, as well.
They assured Craig that they were fine, had covered one another for coffee, naps, food and whatever was needed.
Craig thanked them both for sticking it out.
Beard shook his head. “It’s a chance,” he said hopefully. “And I’d have given a limb to have caught the bastards five years ago.”
“We’ll get them,” Craig said.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d catch them all. It was a massive operation. He said as much to Kieran in a low voice.
“Maybe it’s like...like myth and legend as far as werewolves go,” Kieran said.
“Huh?” He turned to stare at her, not sure whether or not she was just trying to ease the terrible tension that seemed to be affecting everyone there.
“If you get the werewolf—or vampire, maybe?—that started it all, the others just fall,” Kieran said. “What I mean is...the King and Queen are managing it all. Catch them, and you’ve cut off the head of the operation. The whole thing may then tumble down.”
He nodded, almost smiling.
“Yeah, I hope so.”
One of the man’s doctors arrived and explained that the room had to be kept as a “clean” room, as germ-free as they could make it, and while they were welcome to look at the patient as long as they liked, they had to stay outside the room, looking through a glass window.
Craig led Riley and Tanya forward to see the man.
He lay on his back, a small sheet covering his genitals while the rest of his body was treated. Health-care workers were helping him on a twenty-four-hour basis, administering to his flesh with strips covered in painkillers and medication. At Craig’s side, Tanya let out a gasp and began to sob softly.
It was horrible; the man looked something like a steak that had fallen off a grill before being fully cooked.
“Aye, lass, aye,” Riley murmured, slipping an arm around Tanya and pulling her close. She looked at Craig over Tanya’s head.
“We know him, that we do,” she said softly. “Oh, Lord, aye, we know the man.”