“Katrina,” he called out with friendly greeting.
Boyd leaned back and slipped a hand under his T-shirt to the butt of the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans.
Katrina looked up to see one of her fellow police officers approaching. He was out of uniform, dressed casually in slacks and a pullover shirt. “Evening, Russ,” she said when he reached their table.
He grinned at her. “Thought you were out sick.”
She shrugged. “Just decided I needed a couple of days off.”
“Guess your aunt taking off is causing quite a turmoil.”
Playing dumb, Boyd stared at Katrina questioningly. “Your aunt? You never mentioned an aunt. I thought you were an orphan with no family.”
“As far as I'm concerned, I am. I cut my ties with my aunt a long time ago,” Katrina assured him, continuing to play the role of the disinterested niece, and shot Russ a caustic look.
“Oh, yeah.” Russ grimaced apologetically. “Sorry I brought her up.”
“Consider her forgotten,” Katrina replied.
Russ turned his attention to Boyd and held out his hand. “You look familiar.”
“I've come by to see Katrina at work a couple of times,” Boyd replied, refusing to release his hold on his gun to accept the handshake.
Russ shrugged at Boyd's lack of a friendly response and dropped his hand back to his side. “That must be where I saw you.” He gave Katrina a wink. “Sorry I interrupted your evening. Have a good time.”
Watching him walking away, Katrina frowned. “Russ Miller never had the time of day for me before. I wonder if Captain Drake sent him to find me and keep an eye on me.”
Boyd decided that the honesty in her voice was genuine. If she'd come here to meet someone, it hadn't been Russ Miller. “You said you'd never been here before.”
“That's right.”
The man's actions had seemed natural, but Boyd's instincts kept telling him something was wrong. “Then I'd say either he's on the level and accidentally bumped into you or someone told him where to find you.”
Suddenly Katrina was seeing Russ in a whole new light. “The captain wouldn't know where to find me. But Garduchi would and he's bound to have someone on the police payroll.” Grudgingly, she admitted, “Maybe you were right and this sight-seeing tour wasn't such a good idea. Russ could have come here just to get a closer look at you. Rebecca kept her voice low when she told me there was an FBI agent in the captain's office, but someone could have overheard and passed the word around. If Russ saw you at the station yesterday, he might put two and two together.”
“Could be,” Boyd agreed. “But I'll keep playing the role of the boyfriend who knows nothing about your aunt. If he is one of Garduchi's men, we don't want to tip him off that we suspect him.”
Katrina smiled wryly. “Ironic, isn't it? I've spent five years trying to prove I'm trustworthy and failed and it turns out that one of the most-liked guys on the force could be a snitch.”
Another alternative occurred to Boyd. “Or, maybe Drake has had a tail on us in case we needed help.”
Katrina shook her head. “I don't think so. Until Russ showed up, I hadn't seen anybody except Garduchi's men.”
Silence fell between them as they returned to eating. Katrina tried to act relaxed for their watchers, but by the time they'd finished their entrée, she was tense as a bowstring. She didn't mind putting herself into danger, but the full realization of how much danger her aunt was putting Boyd in had hit her full force. As irritating as the man was, she didn't want to see him get hurt. “I'm really sorry that I might have blown your cover,” she said stiffly.
She seemed sincere. But then maybe that was the real reason they'd gone on this tour. Maybe she wanted Garduchi's men to get a good look at him. He shrugged. “Even if my cover is blown, that doesn't change anything. It might even work to my advantage. Garduchi's men will think they have an edge. That might make them a little cocky and men and women who are cocky make mistakes.”
Katrina caught the hint of accusation in his voice. He was obviously considering the possibility that she'd brought him out to blow his cover on purpose. She scowled at him. “I'm not cocky. I was just tense and the thought of spending a whole day cooped up with you was more than my nerves or patience could stand. You are the most irritâ”
“You're making it look as if we're having an argument. We're supposed to be in love, and you're supposed to be enjoying my company.” Boyd smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he reached across the table and took her hand in his.
Katrina forced a smile as she finished between clenched teeth. “Irritating man I have ever met and I think it's time to go home.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Boyd said with husky suggestiveness in his voice for the benefit of the waiter who was approaching. He looked up at the man. “We'll take the check, now.”
The waiter gave him a knowing grin. “Yes, sir. Immediately, sir.”
Katrina suddenly visualized herself in Boyd's arms.
I must really be exhausted to be having moments of lunacy like that.
She shoved the image out. The man honestly believed she might be capable of turning her own aunt over to Garduchi.
All the way home, his distrust nagged at her. Pulling into her driveway, she fantasized about escaping from Agent Logan's company. An unexpected rush of fear swept through her and she was stunned to realize how much safer she felt having him near. Garduchi is a dangerous man. Under present circumstances, only a fool would feel safer alone. Any help, even that of as aggravating a man as Agent Logan, is better than nothing, she reasoned.
Climbing out of the car, she kept a lookout for any free-lancers who hadn't gotten the word that she was under Garduchi's protection.
Boyd too searched the shadows for any movement. When Katrina came around the car, he took a position behind her.
“I'm taking a shower and going to bed,” she announced as they entered the house. “I'm exhausted.”
He read the stress lines on her face. Whatever was going on, wasn't easy for her. If she was on the level, he felt sorry for her. On the other hand, his coming into the picture might have added a twist to her plans she hadn't counted on and that was what was causing the strain. “Not too exhausted, I hope,” he countered, playing the part of the ardent lover, for their listeners.
She simply gave him a wry look and headed down the hall.
Boyd made a quick check of the house. No new bugs had been planted and the one he'd gotten rid of in the bedroom had not been replaced. Going into the living room, he sat down on the couch and waited until he heard the water stop running. He gave her a few minutes to towel dry and then go into her bedroom, then he went down the hall to check on her. She was in bed. Crossing the room, he lifted the covers. She was wearing her nightgown.
Katrina opened her eyes and glared up at him.
“Just wanted to make certain you weren't dressed to run the minute I left the room,” he said.
“I'm not going anywhere. I may not even move all night long,” she growled up at him. “Now put down the covers and let me go to sleep.”
He dropped the covers back in place. Her body had looked soft and enticing. Lusty thoughts filled his mind.
Forget it!
he ordered himself.
Discarding his jacket and gun, he lay down on the bed until he was satisfied she was asleep, then showered. Returning to the bedroom, he cursed under his breath. She was gone.
Katrina entered the bedroom to find Boyd cursing and pulling his shoulder holster on. “What's happened?”
He spun around to see her in her nightgown and robe. “I thought you'd taken off.”
She frowned at his distrust. “I just went in the kitchen for some water and ibuprofin. You're a walking headache.” Climbing back into bed, she added, “I keep trying to tell you I'm one of the good guys.”
Boyd wished he could believe her, but he'd been fooled before and it had nearly cost him his life.
Chapter 5
T
he ringing of the doorbell woke Katrina. Boyd was already on his feet, heading to the hall. He was holding his gun behind him so that anyone looking in the windows, wouldn't see it. Grabbing up her robe, she pulled it on as she went. “Coming,” she yelled in response to another round of ringing.
Boyd stopped at the end of the hall, letting her take the lead. As she continued past him, he remained across the room but shifted his position so that when she opened the door he would have an easy shot at whoever was there.
Being careful to give him a line of vision, Katrina opened the door.
“Katrina Polenari?” the delivery boy asked, from behind an arrangement of roses of various colors.
“Yes.”
“Sorry I woke you,” he apologized, clearly embarrassed. “The lady who ordered these was insistent that they be delivered at nine o'clock”
Seeing his eyes looking past her to Boyd and his embarrassment turning to trepidation, she said, “It's all right He always looks grumpy in the morning,” and accepted the vase.
“Have a good day,” he said over his shoulder already hurrying back to his truck.
“I'll bet you don't get many door-to-door salespeople stopping by,” Katrina commented, glancing over her shoulder to see that Boyd had moved closer.
“Never twice,” he replied.
She hated the way his nearness was causing her blood to race.
He thinks you're as cold-blooded as your father,
she reminded herself, and her pulse returned to normal.
Stepping back, she allowed him to close the door. Then, setting the flowers on the coffee table, she found the card and opened it. As she suspected, it was from Leona. It said her aunt was on her way out of the country. She scowled at the bouquet. She had Garduchi watching her every move, her captain now distrusted her and then there was the FBI. And all for nothing.
Or maybe not,
her little voice rebutted. If Leona had really left, why did she insist the flowers be delivered at exactly nine? Katrina's gaze returned to the roses. There were eleven.
“Do I have competition?” Boyd asked, reminding her of his presence.
“No. They're from my aunt.” She saw the surprise on his face that she would have mentioned Leona openly in a room she knew was bugged and smiled to herself.
“The aunt Russ mentioned last night?” He shifted his eyes toward one of the bugs to remind her they were there.
She shrugged to let him know she remembered their presence. “That's the one. She's my father's sister. We haven't seen each other in years and it looks like it's going to stay that way. Her note says that she's on her way to some remote part of the world and doesn't plan to return,” she repeated what Leona had written.
Boyd had to fight to keep the frustration out of his voice. “That's too bad.”
“Not really. She's gotten herself into trouble with some people it isn't smart to cross. If she'd stayed I'd probably have gotten caught in the middle of it.” She gave him a wry look to let him know this was all an act.
Boyd's frustration vanished. “So that's why you're so tense.” He added a huskiness to his voice. “Now that you don't have to worry about your aunt, how about us going back to bed for a while?”
“I can't spend the entire day on my back.”
“We could try some other positions.”
Katrina could imagine the chuckles her listeners were having at her expense, but she didn't care. If this exchange got them off her tail, she'd be happy. “We've got to get to the grocery store if you want something home-cooked for dinner.”
“Some of your terrific lasagna?” Boyd asked, playing along. Clearly she wanted to get going quickly.
“Whatever you want.” Katrina's voice took on an agitated edge. “How did that picture get crooked?”
Boyd watched her approach a perfectly straight frame, one that had a bug behind it. What was she up to?
Katrina moved the picture around as if straightening it. “What's this?” she demanded angrily, pulling the bug off the back. “Someone has bugged my house. The FBI, maybe. Or the local police. Or, maybe even Garduchi. Damn, that makes me mad.”
“Garduchi? Who's Garduchi?” Boyd asked, playing his part of being an innocent bystander.
“Vince Garduchi, the mobster. That's the man my aunt got herself into trouble with.” Dropping the bug on the floor, Katrina stomped on it. Knowing there was another bug in the living room that would allow Garduchi's men to continue to monitor her, she said, “I hate having my privacy invaded. We'll stay at your place. Tomorrow I'll go into work and get a bug detector and clean my house of these metal insects.”
“Sure. They should be finished painting it by now,” Boyd replied, giving her credit for being smart enough to come up with a reason they could both leave with suitcases.
Returning to the bedroom to dress, Katrina was aware that he was following. “You can't watch me every second,” she mumbled under her breath.
Boyd knew she was right. Besides, if she'd wanted to get away she'd had enough chances already. If she had a hidden agenda, it was obvious by now that, at least for the time being, it involved him. With a nod of agreement, he stepped into the hall and closed the bedroom door.
Exiting her bedroom a few minutes later in a pair of jeans, cotton top and sneakers, Katrina was surprised to find him nowhere in sight. The thought that Garduchi's men might have come to check the card and were holding Boyd prisoner, caused her stomach to knot in fear for him and she cursed under her breath for having left her gun in the living room. Cautiously, she made her way in that direction. The scraping of a chair in the kitchen attracted her attention. Quietly taking a look, she discovered Boyd seated at the table eating a sandwich. Her stomach unknotted.
I just don't want him hurt because of my aunt or me,
she told herself, refusing to even consider the possibility that her concern for the man went any deeper than it would for anyone caught up in this situation with her.
As she entered the kitchen, Boyd nodded toward a plate holding a second sandwich. “My mother used to say never go to the grocery store on an empty stomach.”
She hated taking anything from him, but she knew she should eat while she could. Once they left the house, there was no telling what would happen next. As she began gobbling down the sandwich, she glanced at her watch. “We need to get going soon,” she said, between bites. “I have a hairdresser's appointment in a couple of hours.” As an afterthought she added, “And I need to drop some stuff off at the dry cleaners.”
Pulling out a fresh green plastic bag, she headed back to her bedroom, eating the rest of her sandwich as she went. Boyd followed, retrieving his holster and jacket while she shoved some clean clothes into the bag. “I figured we wouldn't be coming back here. I can take a few things in an overnight bag but a suitcase would be too obvious,” she said in answer to his questioning look.
Boyd nodded. “I'll drive.”
She knew he was hoping his car didn't have a tracer on it or any bugs in it. Still, considering how closely they were being watched, it was only smart to be cautious.
After tossing his satchel in the trunk, he helped her put her bag of clothes in the backseat, giving himself a chance to give that area a quick scan. No internal bugs there.
“So where to?” he asked, climbing in behind the wheel and giving the front a quick scan. There were no bugs there either.
“The grocery store,” she replied, giving him directions.
As they pulled out into traffic, she spotted their tail a couple of cars back. “Looks like my trying to convince them Leona has taken off didn't work.”
“Looks like,” Boyd replied, letting her know he'd spotted their tail also.
When they pulled into the grocery store parking lot, she went inside while he feigned interest in his tires. Rounding the car slowly, kicking each tire as if checking the air, he made a quick search for any kind of tracers Garduchi's men might have attached to his vehicle. There was one in the right rear wheel case on the passenger side. Standing, leaning against the car nonchalantly, he managed to free it. Walking to the front tire, he dropped it behind the wheel so that it would be crushed when they pulled out.
Then, leaning against the hood, he pretended to be enjoying the spring day while he waited for Katrina to return. Casually, he surveyed the parking lot. The car that had been following them was one aisle over. The driver had remained behind the wheel and was keeping an eye on him, while the other man in the car had followed Katrina into the store. He guessed his cover had been blown and made a mental note to be certain to mention Russ Miller to Captain Drake.
Katrina returned a short while later with a single bag of groceries. “I decided you could take me out to dinner tonight,” she said loud enough for anyone who wanted to hear. Then stowing the bag on the backseat, she climbed into the front.
“Now what?” Boyd asked.
A grin suddenly spread across her face. “It looks like we just got lucky. We get to lose our tail without being obvious.”
Boyd wondered why she was smiling, then he saw. An elderly woman had climbed into the huge older model car next to the one belonging to their tail and was backing out at a snaillike speed. Pulling out at a normal speed, Boyd was out of the parking lot while the woman's car was still blocking Garduchi's men.
Katrina began giving directions. Once she was satisfied there wasn't a second tail, she began guiding him to their destination. Half an hour later they were pulling into the parking lot of the Missouri Botanical Garden. As they left the car and headed toward the entrance, she said, “When I was growing up, my aunt and I used to come here regularly. I'm counting on her message meaning that she wanted to meet us here in their rose garden. And, I'm assuming that the eleven roses meant eleven o'clock. Or the message on the flowers could have been legit and she's on an airplane winging her way somewhere into oblivion.”
Boyd scowled at that possibility. “Garduchi will find her if she tries to get away on her own.”
“I'm hoping she realizes that”
Inside, they bought tickets.
“Shall we have a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. We're early,” Katrina suggested.
“I want to get an idea of the lay of the land,” Boyd replied, catching her hand to keep her with him as he continued to the exit leading into the gardens.
Stepping outside into the scented air, Katrina experienced a giddiness like the one she'd felt the very first time a boy had held her hand. Refusing to believe it had anything to do with the man beside her, she told herself it was the spring weather and the romantic effect of being in a garden. She tried not to think of her companion, but instead found herself recalling his bared chest. Attempting to divert her mind from the sturdy look of him, she recalled the bullet hole. Before she could stop herself, she heard herself asking, “How did you get shot?”
“Bank robber. Had two hidden guns. I hadn't counted on that.”
Surprised he'd answered, her curiosity took control. “And the knife wound in the back?”
Boyd realized he'd been enjoying strolling hand in hand with her. Abruptly, he released his hold. “I trusted the wrong person.”
The giddiness vanished. His body language and the tone of his voice was like a slap in the face, letting her know once again she was currently top on his list of people he didn't trust.
“Which way to the rose garden?” he asked.
“This way.” Walking alongside of him, Katrina faced the truth. She'd never gain the full trust of the law officers she worked with.
“I don't like this.” Boyd broke the silence between them. “There's too much large foliage.”
Katrina nodded her agreement. Glancing at the denim shoulder bag she was carrying, she made sure the zipper was open giving her easy access to the weapon inside.
“You look like a strong young man,” an elderly woman seated on a bench a couple of feet ahead of them called out in a voice that crackled with age. “Give an old lady a hand. I can sit myself down, but getting up is near impossible.”
The woman's shoulders were stooped and both of her hands were resting on the top of her cane as if it was the only thing keeping her the least bit erect. Her makeup was heavy in the style of years past with bright red circles of rouge on the cheeks and vivid red lipstick put on beyond the true shape of the lips. She wore thick glasses with round gold frames and her hair was a mass of gray curls. Her dress was matronly, made of material with a flowery design and the collar was lace. The sleeves were long and what was visible of her legs was covered with heavy support stockings. Her breasts and hips were ample. Her shoes were sturdy.
Katrina studied her narrowly. There was nothing about the woman that resembled Leona Serrenito. Her aunt, as Katrina remembered her, was slender and stylish, dressing in the latest fashions. Her hair might be gray at the roots, but she'd become a blonde in her twenties and Katrina knew she'd die a blonde. And, Leona had always taken good care of herself. She'd been forty-nine when Katrina last saw her but she'd looked closer to thirty-five.