Pregnant Protector. Anne Duquette Marie

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СКАЧАТЬ rewarded with another “Please.”

      “Kate and I worked a charity event for children’s cancer a few years ago. A rock concert,” she specified. “My father’s a friend of the lead singer. The rock star’s girlfriend and their young daughter were there. The daughter has cancer.”

      “Damn.”

      “Yeah. Anyway, Kate and I foiled a kidnapping attempt on the daughter. We caught the perps and kept the family safe. The rock star was very grateful.”

      “So, this?” he gestured around the expensive room.

      “We don’t take pay, of course. But Kate had her arm broken. I had a couple of broken ribs. Our dogs were okay, thank God. They got a good workout on the kidnappers.” She grinned. “And despite their zeal, neither dog damaged a tooth.”

      “Good girl, Sadie,” Nick said. In acknowledgment of the praise, Sadie graced him with a single, minute twitch of her tail.

      “The rock star paid Kate’s medical bills, and mine. When I got out of the hospital—”

      “You were hospitalized?” he interrupted.

      “I needed a few stitches,” she said. “No biggie. So when I got out, the rock star presented the house as a fait accompli to our kennels, complete with gardener, pool man, stocked bar and paid utilities. Plus a Mercedes in the garage. Like I said, we don’t charge friends, but we couldn’t refuse or sell the place without taking a heavy tax hit to our business. The client must have paid his lawyer big time to set it up that way. He and his girlfriend really love their daughter. Happy ending for all parties concerned.”

      Nick nodded. “So you and your sister moved in?”

      “We did. Mom and Dad still live on the kennel property, of course.”

      “Where’s your sister now?” Nick asked.

      “Kate and her dog are at a FBI convention—new bombs, new antiterrorist methods, new canine training. Kate works for the Port of San Diego—coastal cities need harbor security just as tight as airports. She gets to do the occasional cruise ship. They always request her when in port.”

      Nick noticed the pride in Lara’s voice when speaking of her sister. He found himself asking, “So you’re both single?”

      “We are.”

      Her tone said, Back off, but Nick suddenly remembered Captain Girard’s words. “You up to this? Girard told me you’ve just come off compassionate leave yourself.”

      “That’s right. Jim was a pilot. We were to get married last year. His chopper crashed. End of story.” She lifted her chin. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold you—or the investigation—back. The shrinks said I’m good to go.”

      “Sorry. Damn.” He started to reach for her, to give a consoling hug, then stopped. An awkward pause filled the room. He filled it with the lame “Well, with your sister not here, at least I won’t have to share the shower.”

      Lara eagerly seized the opportunity to change the subject. “With Kate gone, it’s quiet, but secure. I don’t think you need a ‘safe house’ yet. For the present I’d rather Sadie and I stayed on our own turf to protect you.”

      “Makes sense,” Nick admitted. The security measures in his older apartment building couldn’t match those in La Jolla’s rich district. Nor did his apartment have the hi-tech central monitoring system he’d noticed throughout the house.

      “And we’ll be using my Mercedes. It’ll draw less attention than my squad unit.”

      “You’re very lucky.”

      “Yep. Sadie even has her own pool.”

      “I didn’t mean the house. I mean, you lived to fight another day. The rock star and his family remain intact. The bad guys are behind bars—where I intend to put Julio’s killer.”

      Lara blinked, and her chest tightened with surprise. Most people envied her free home and raved about her “luck.” Obviously that wasn’t true with Nick. She noted he hadn’t asked for the name of the rock star. Nick had his own priorities.

      “Let’s crank up that fancy car of yours, grab a bite and head over to the police station,” Nick said. “Time to find out what’s going on.”

      A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, Nick sat in Lieutenant Joe Lansky’s empty office waiting for him to return with coffee. Lara had placed badges around both her neck and Sadie’s, where they were visible for all to see. When she wasn’t in her special K-9 squad car, she didn’t wear her uniform.

      “I’m gonna roam, if you don’t mind. You’ll be safe enough in here,” she’d said before leaving. “We got news this morning when you were in the shower.”

      “What news?”

      “Lansky will fill you in. You’ve got my police cell number and my personal cell number. Don’t even think about leaving the building without me. Got it?”

      “Got it.” Her posture and tone said it all. It reminded Nick of Lara’s story of foiling a kidnapping. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he remembered her saying dismissively, “A few stitches.” Clients—even wealthy ones—didn’t usually compensate “a few stitches” with La Jolla mansions.

      Nick took the liberty of logging onto Lansky’s computer. First he tried to access any information on his partner’s death, but found only a flashing, coded “pending.”

      Annoyed, but still logged on, he pulled up the police details of the rock star case. Four men had attempted to kidnap the rock star’s daughter; Lara and her sister with their dogs had won the battle, but not without a price. Lara had been knifed in the ribs by one of the men. The knife was polymer, just as hard and sharp-edged as metal, and had escaped detection by concert security in the metal detectors. Three of Lara’s ribs had been slashed right through, and the knife-wielding kidnapper had died by two bullets, one from each sister; either hit would have been fatal. Lara needed emergency surgery, according to the police reports. The three remaining kidnappers were in prison, the ringleader on death row due to “special circumstances,” stalking, the attempted kidnapping of a minor, the attempted murder of law-enforcement officers and assault upon said officers.

      Nick logged off the computer and returned to Lansky’s visitor chair, his face thoughtful, his suspicions confirmed. Lara had courage when it came to law enforcement. Terrible thing, her fiancé dying…

      Lansky entered the office, two cups of coffee in hand, and Nick gave himself a mental shake. He lifted his gaze to Lansky’s ruddy face. “What’s new with the investigation?”

      Lansky set both coffees down and sat behind his desk. “Nothing on the shooter. The divers recovered Julio’s body around ten this morning. We contacted Nelson, and—”

      “Ten this morning?” She could have told him. She hadn’t. Nick remembered the cheery breakfast they’d had, and his lips thinned. He needed information, not a babysitter.

      “Yes. Julio’s driver’s-door window was destroyed by a single round, which continued into his body. What with the slow traffic speed during the rain, it’s conclusive, Cantello. We’re talking СКАЧАТЬ