Katrina had changed into her uniform and was heading toward her car. Suddenly two men came around the house from the far side. Each grabbed one of her arms. She let out a scream for help, then started kicking like a mule.
Boyd drew his gun on the run. “Let her go,” he ordered.
Both men pulled out guns of their own. One aimed at him and the other turned his gun to Katrina's head.
“You drop your gun and no one gets hurt,” the skinnier of the two men instructed.
“I don't think dropping my weapon would be such a good idea,” Boyd returned in an easy drawl, assuming these men wouldn't want to leave any witnesses.
“We got here first. She's ours,” the skinnier man growled.
A car had pulled up in front of the house. “Hurry up and get in. One of the neighbors is sure to have called the police,” the driver yelled.
“Just shoot him and get it over with,” the bigger of the two men holding on to Katrina told his partner.
Katrina had stopped struggling and was sizing up the situation. She recognized the two men holding her and the driver of the car as local hoods...minor fish. The driver was Frank Granelo, the smaller one holding her was Pauly something and the bigger one was Bruno Valpreo. But the black-haired man in the faded jeans, oversized T-shirt, cowboy boots and western drawl who was trying to take her away from them was a stranger. She looked into the stranger's eyes. Her father used to say you could tell if a man was bluffing by his eyes. The stranger's were the darkest she'd ever seen, nearly black. And there was no fear there, only cold purpose in those dark depths. She stiffened for action. He definitely wasn't bluffing. If he shot Pauly, Bruno was sure to turn his gun on the stranger and give her a chance to break free. While the two of them decided who would be left standing, she'd get behind her car and draw her own gun. No one was going to take her captive!
“I'll drop you before I go down,” Boyd warned.
“Now, now, boys,” a new voice entered the fray. “Vince won't take kindly to you spilling blood in this nice quiet neighborhood.”
The bigger of the abductors looked over his shoulder. The car in which Dominic Ruzito had been sitting had pulled up in front of Katrina's house, and Dominic had gotten out.
“Dominic.” The edge of fear in Bruno's voice was quickly replaced by belligerence. “No one's going to get shot. We just wanted to have a private chat with Katrina. Find out if she knows where her aunt is.”
Quickly getting over the shock that his lady cop was Leona Serrenito's niece, Boyd noticed that Dominic had drawn no gun. But then no one would be stupid enough to take out Vince Garduchi's son-in-law.
“Vince has already spoken to her. She knows nothing. As everyone already knows, she severed her ties with her aunt a long time ago,” Dominic said with calm assurance.
He's a good liar,
Katrina thought.
“She's on the outside and a cop to boot,” Dominic continued, his tone taking on a warning quality. “Harming her could cause some unpleasantness. Vince says I should pass the word that he'll take it real personal if even one hair on her head is mussed.”
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Boyd saw Dominic's driver taking a position that gave him an easy shot at any of them. He was armed with a machine gun.
The skinny man released his hold on Katrina and pocketed his gun before turning to face Dominic. “We didn't know she was under Vince's protection. We were just trying to find Leona.”
The larger man also released his hold on Katrina and put away his gun.
She stepped away, rubbing her arms and glaring at her would-be captors.
“I think it would be smart if you two left before the police arrive,” Vince said. “And pass the word along about Katrina.”
“Sure, Dominic,” both men replied in unison, then hurried to their waiting car.
Uncertain of what would happen next, Boyd had changed his aim to Dominic's driver.
Dominic waved his driver away. The man slipped the machine gun back into its holster under his suit coat and climbed back in the car.
Boyd holstered his gun.
The sound of sirens filled the air.
“You owe Vince,” Dominic said to Katrina, then quickly returned to his car. The moment he was inside, the driver took off.
Not wanting to identify himself, Boyd returned to his car, slammed down the hood, climbed inside and slid low into the seat before the two police cars rounded the corner. They passed him and came to a screeching halt in front of Katrina's house.
“It was just some goons looking for my aunt,” he heard her telling them. “Everything's okay.”
Sitting up as the police cars left, Boyd frowned at the thin manila envelope on the seat beside him with its photocopies of everything the local FBI office knew about Leona. The information inside stated that she had no close living relatives. But then according to Dominic Ruzito, Katrina Polenari had totally severed her ties with her aunt a long time ago. Boyd smirked. He wasn't buying into Dominic's claim that his father-in-law wasn't interested in Katrina other than to insure her protection. He was sure Garduchi was hoping Leona would contact her and lead him to her. And the old man didn't want any interference.
Boyd saw Katrina looking his way and noted that her hand was on the butt of her gun. Apparently she, like her two would-be-abductors, thought he was another goon hoping to cash in on the reward. Her gaze never leaving him, she rounded her car and climbed in. He waited until she'd pulled out of her driveway and started down the street, then followed. He didn't make any effort to pretend he wasn't tailing her.
Katrina scowled at her rearview mirror. The tall, black-haired man didn't seem to care if she knew he was following her. Recalling his eyes, a chill ran through her.
She smiled to herself as she turned into the police parking lot, sure even he wouldn't have the nerve to follow her into here.
Chapter 2
B
oyd pulled into one of the visitor's spots in front of the station house. He would follow protocol, playing it straight until he knew the game. Inside, he headed toward the captain's office.
The captain's secretary eyed him suspiciously when he approached her desk. When he identified himself as an FBI agent and requested to see the captain, she continued to regard him skeptically. “I thought you guys always dressed in suits,” she said, taking a close look at his badge.
“I've been doing some undercover work,” he explained in an easy drawl.
She punched the button on her intercom. “Captain, there's a man here who says he's from the FBI,” she said, her tone indicating she still wasn't convinced.
“Send him in,” came the barked response.
“Martin Drake.” The captain introduced himself, standing and leaning over his desk to shake Boyd's hand.
“Boyd Logan.” Boyd said, accepting the handshake.
“You got some identification?”
Boyd produced his badge.
“Thought you guys always wore suits,” Drake said, handing back the badge.
“Figured this was more appropriate for the work I've been doing.” Boyd eased himself into a chair.
Drake grinned. “Staked out in the woods across from Garduchi's estate?”
Boyd nodded.
“You might as well park right in front and be comfortable. You've got to know he expects you to be there. If you want my opinion, it's a waste of your time. He'd never have Leona Serrenito brought there.”
Drake's amused attitude was getting on Boyd's nerves but he didn't let it show. “We're keeping track of who comes and goes. Thought it might give us a lead.” Boyd paused then added, “Saw one of your officers go into the compound today.”
Drake's grin disappeared. “That what prompted that call I got earlier?”
“Yeah. That was my partner, Lewis Hamond.”
“Which of my officers did you see?”
“Katrina Polenari.”
Drake's jaw hardened. “She told me she didn't know anything about her aunt's whereabouts and if she did learn anything, she'd bring her in for safe keeping.” Suspicion entered his voice. “Don't know why she'd be visiting Garduchi.”
“You knew she was Leona Serrenito's niece?”
Drake gave him a dry look. “Of course. But she claims she broke ties with the family over ten years ago...the day following her father and brother's funerals. And, just yesterday she swore she hadn't spoken to her aunt since then.”
“So what was she doing at Garduchi's estate?”
“Guess we ought to ask her.” Drake punched his intercom and ordered his secretary to have Officer Polenari report to him as soon as the evening roll call and briefing was over.
As he and Drake settled in to wait, Boyd noticed that Drake remained tense. Clearly, he didn't like this turn of events.
Â
Coming out of the evening briefing, Katrina was met by Drake's secretary, Rebecca Brown. “The captain wants to see you,” the woman informed her. As they started down the hall together, Rebecca lowered her voice and added, “There's an FBI agent in his office. Guess they think you might know where your aunt is.”
“Who doesn't?” Katrina muttered, recalling the grilling Drake had put her through the day they'd learned of Leona's disappearance and his daily questioning since then.
Entering Drake's office, she froze. The dark-eyed stranger was there.
Boyd rose, closed the door, then extended his hand. “I'm Boyd Logan.”
“He's FBI,” Drake said.
His eyes were actually dark brown, not black, Katrina noted. Her gaze traveled to the overly large black T-shirt she knew was covering a holstered pistol, then on to his faded jeans and western-cut boots. Identifications could be forged. She wasn't ready to believe this man was a good guy. “I thought you Feds always wore suits and ties.”
Realizing she wasn't going to shake his hand, Boyd lowered it. “I've been doing some undercover work. A suit would have stuck out like a sore thumb.”
Katrina continued to regard him suspiciously. “How do we know you're who you say you are?”
“Call Washington,” he replied.
“Officer Polenari, you're overstepping your bounds,” Drake warned.
Katrina squared her shoulders. “There's a very large reward out for my aunt, big enough to make someone consider impersonating an FBI agent.”
For a long moment, they all stood silent.
“You could be right,” Drake finally said. He punched his intercom. “Rebecca, get me whoever's in charge of the Garduchi task force at the FBI in Washington,” Drake ordered.
“Gerald Eldridge.” Boyd supplied the name.
“Get me Gerald Eldridge,” Drake amended.
Settling back into his chair, Boyd noted that although Drake also seated himself, Officer Polenari remained standing. She did shift her position a little so that she'd have a cleaner shot at him in case he wasn't who he said he was. A distrusting soul, he mused. Well, he wasn't one to trust anyone on face value either. And he didn't trust her. Garduchi was protecting her. That could be because he wanted her to lead him to her aunt or it could be because she was too valuable an ally to lose.
His gaze traveled over her. Up close, her face had a sensual quality. It was the blend of her features but mostly it was her dark brown eyes and full lips. Nice figure, too. But then some of nature's most alluring creatures were her most deadly.
Katrina was acutely aware of his examination. She saw the spark of masculine interest in his eyes, then the quick return of cool indifference.
The buzz of Drake's intercom broke the heavy silence in the room. “The man you wanted to speak to is out, but I have his secretary on the line.”
“Ask her if she knows Boyd Logan,” Drake instructed.
“She says she does,” Rebecca replied a few seconds later.
“Then I'll talk to her.” Drake picked up the phone and identified himself. “I've got a man here claiming to be your Agent Logan. Can you describe him for me?” Drake listened for a minute, then looked to Katrina. “A Texan, half Apache, six foot one inch tall, thick black hair, luscious brown eyes, broad shoulders, a real hunk,” he repeated the description, amusement in his voice at the secretary's choice of adjectives.
“I suppose that fits him,” Katrina conceded. He did have broad shoulders, his face was handsome in a rugged sort of way and his Native American heritage was evident in his high cheekbones.
“She says that if we want further proof, he has a scar from a bullet wound on his chest and one from a knife on his back. She says my secretary or any lady cop on the force might enjoy making that inspection.” Drake nodded at Boyd. “Let's have a look.”
Katrina couldn't deny a feminine appreciation of the hard, well-defined muscles and flat abdomen as Boyd stood and raised his T-shirt to expose his chest. The scar was there too. When he turned to show the one on his back, she felt a heat building. Well, she was only human, and he was a nice specimen.
Drake nodded his satisfaction.
“It appears you know your boss's secretary very well,” Katrina. commented while Drake thanked the woman on the phone and hung up.
“The wounds are on my record,” he returned with casual nonchalance.
She continued to regard him dryly. Either he and the secretary hadn't had a fling or he considered women nothing more than notches on his belt. That she wondered how many notches he had, irritated her. She didn't have time for that kind of speculation. Right now, all of her thoughts needed to be focused on keeping her aunt alive and bringing her in so that they could put Garduchi behind bars where he belonged.
“Well, now that you're satisfied I am who I claim I am,” Boyd said, continuing to stand, his gaze hard on Katrina, “how about telling me why you paid Garduchi a visit this morning?”
Katrina looked to her superior and saw the suspicion in his eyes. It hurt. Even though her father's family had been a part of the Garduchi organization for generations, she thought she'd proved herself to Captain Drake. “My aunt contacted me this morning and asked me to help her.”
“You should have called me immediately,” Drake growled.
“Calling you wouldn't have helped, I owe Leona. After my mother died, she practically raised me.”
“Did she ask you to go see Garduchi or was that your idea?” Boyd asked, wondering just how strong her family ties were.
“She asked me to speak to him for her. She said she'd had a religious conversion after her husband died and had been donating all of the skimmed money to the church and other charities. She wanted me to tell Garduchi that and ask him to forgive her.”
“And did he?” Drake demanded, his displeasure with her actions clearly evident.
“No.” She faced him defiantly. “I knew he wouldn't. I just needed to be able to swear to my aunt that that was the case. When she called back this afternoon, I convinced her that she should turn herself in to the authorities and let them protect her.”
“That'd be me,” Boyd said. “We want to get Garduchi under federal indictment. And we can provide better protection for your aunt than any local police organization.” He glanced at Drake. “No offense.”
Drake reluctantly nodded his agreement. “I'd like to be the one to bring her in and bring Garduchi down but, as much as I hate admitting it, I couldn't guarantee her safety. With that price on her head, we'd have shooters trying to break into our jail.”
From his less-than-hospitable manner toward her, Katrina guessed Agent Logan wasn't going to like what she had to say next. She wasn't interested in spending more time in his company either, but she didn't have a choice. “There is one small catch. She won't come in unless I'm assigned to help guard her.”
“Consider yourself on loan to the FBI,” Drake said without hesitation.
The suspicion she'd seen in his eyes coupled with the fact that he was so clearly glad to be getting rid of her cut deep. Katrina's chin stiffened with pride. “Yes, sir,” she replied briskly.
Boyd watched the exchange with interest. Her visit to Garduchi had shaken any faith Drake had in her. If she was straight, he felt sorry for her. If she wasn't, he didn't want her pawned off on him. “Officer Polenari is known by Garduchi's associates to be a relative of Leona Serrenito. And since Garduchi knows she's been contacted, he's sure to keep a close watch on her. In fact, he's had a tail on her all day. I think it would be best if she stayed as far away from her aunt as possible.”
They were making her feel like unwanted garbage. “I would agree with you,” she said tersely, “but my aunt won't come in unless I'm there.”
“From what I've heard, Mrs. Serrenito is a stubborn, hardheaded woman,” Drake confirmed. “My guess is that she's not going to come in unless you play by her rules.”
Boyd realized he had no choice. “All right. Officer Polenari is in, but we'll have to be certain to get rid of any tails before we meet with her aunt.”
She gave him a haughty glance. “I'd already figured that part out.” Her expression once again businesslike, she added, “And one other thing. She refuses to have more than two of us guarding her.” Having delivered all of her aunt's instructions, she turned her attention to her captain. “She's not going to contact me for a couple of days. Since I have to stick around, I think I should go on with my regular duties as if nothing is happening.”
“She's right,” Boyd said, then had second thoughts about sending her out into the streets. She could be nabbed by some thug who hadn't heard that she was under Garduchi's protection. The strength of the sharp wave of protectiveness he experienced, irritated him. He told himself that his concern was because she was his only lead to Leona. Aloud, he said, “However, it would probably be best if you found some paperwork for her that would keep her off the streets.”
Drake nodded his agreement, then turned his attention back to Katrina. “Contact me the minute you hear from your aunt.”
“I'll call in sick.”
“Good. And for today you can help Shroder in the squad room with the paperwork on the Clemming's case,” he said with dismissal.
Katrina had been sharply aware of his wariness. Performing a snappy salute, she turned and exited. Her stomach was in a knot. She was tired of having to prove herself. Putting her life on the line for five years should have been enough.
Wanting to keep his connection with officer Polenari as inconspicious as possible for the moment, Boyd remained behind in Drake's office watching her through the windowed door. “You don't trust Officer Polenari?” he asked.