Heartbreaker

Chapter 8

Two detectives from the Kansas City Police Department, Maria Rodrigues and Frances McCann, arrived at the rectory a little past two. As the interview got under way, Nick, silent and watchful, remained by Laurant’s side. He let the detectives run the show and didn’t interfere in the questioning or volunteer any opinions or suggestions. When he got up to leave the room, Laurant had to force herself not to grab hold of him to keep him there. She wanted him close by, even if only to offer moral support, but he’d gotten a phone call from a man named George Walker, a profiler assigned to the case.

Tommy joined them, and the first couple of minutes with him were very predictable. Like most women who met her brother for the first time, the detectives seemed captivated and had trouble taking their eyes off him.

"Are you a full-fledged priest?" Detective McCann asked. "I mean, have you been ordained and everything?"

Tommy gave her one of his grins, completely unaware of the heart flutters they caused in most women, and responded, "I’m full-fledged."

"Maybe we should stick to the investigation," Rodrigues suggested to her partner.

McCann flipped open her notepad and looked at Laurant. "Did your brother tell you how we got hold of the tape?" She didn’t wait for an answer but continued. "The son of a bitch just strolled inside the police station sometime last night, dropped his little package, and then strolled right back out. I mean, it was the perfect time ‘cause it was a zoo in there. Two big drug busts had just gone down and they were dragging their drugged-out asses in for over an hour. The watch said he didn’t notice the package until things had calmed down. Anyway, we figure he must have been dressed in blues, like a street cop, or maybe he was pretending to be a lawyer, come to bail his client out. No one remembers seeing anyone with a manila envelope," she added. "That’s what the tape was in, and to be honest, it was such a hectic time, I doubt anyone would have noticed the envelope if the son of a bitch hadn’t called."

"He called 911 from a pay phone in City Center Square," Rodrigues interjected. "That isn’t too far from here."

"The guy’s got steel balls, I’ll give him that," McCann remarked. She colored then and blurted, "Sorry about the language, Father. I’ve been hanging around Rodrigues too long."

"So what can you tell us?" Rodrigues asked Laurant.

Laurant raised her hands in a gesture of futility. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to help them-she couldn’t even come up with a viable theory as to why she had been targeted.

The detectives didn’t have any leads yet, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. They had already canvassed the neighborhood, searching for witnesses who might have noticed a stranger or a car in the vicinity late Saturday afternoon. No one had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, which hadn’t surprised the detectives.

"People around here are suspicious of the police," Rodrigues explained. "We’re hoping that if anyone saw anything peculiar, he’ll confide in Monsignor or maybe even Father Tom here. The parishioners trust their priests."

Neither Rodrigues nor McCann were optimistic about catching the unsub quickly. They would have to wait and see what developed.

Maybe the letter the man had told Tommy he’d mailed would shed some insight. Then again, maybe not.

"Aside from assaulting Father Tom here, no other crime has been committed," McCann said. "At least not yet anyway."

"Do you mean to tell me that if I’m murdered, then you’ll look into it?" Laurant asked a little more sharply than she intended.

McCann, the more blunt of the two, responded. "Do you want me to sugarcoat it or be honest?"

"Be honest."

"Okay," she replied. "We’re pretty territorial, kinda like big cats, and it would depend on where he dumped the body. If it’s our city, we take the case."

"A crime has already been committed," Tommy reminded them.

"Yes," Rodrigues agreed. "You were assaulted, but-"

Tommy interrupted. "I didn’t mean that. He confessed to killing another woman."

"Yeah, well, he says he killed her," Rodrigues countered. "He could have been lying about that."

McCann volunteered her opinion that the incident in the confessional was just a sick prank by an irate man who maybe had a grudge against Father Tom and wanted to get back at him. That was why, she explained, they had spent so much time on their first call questioning him about possible enemies.

"Look, we aren’t going to sit on our hands," Rodrigues assured Laurant. "But we don’t have a lot to go on yet."

"And it isn’t our jurisdiction."

"How do you figure that, Detective McCann?"

Nick asked the question. He was leaning against the door frame, watching the detectives.

Her tone was antagonistic when she answered. "The unsub reported the crime here in Kansas City, but he made it clear on the tape, clear to us anyway, that he lives in or around Holy Oaks, Iowa. We’ll share what we’ve got with the police there, and we’ll keep the file open of course… in case he comes back."

"The way we see it, the FBI’s involved. Right? You guys are bound to come up with something," Rodrigues offered.

McCann nodded. "We don’t like to interfere in an FBI investigation."

"Since when?" Nick asked.

She smiled. "Hey, we’re trying to get along here. I don’t see why we can’t work on this together. You give us what you’ve got, and if we come up with anything, we’ll be happy to share it with you."

They weren’t getting anywhere. After the detectives gave Laurant their cards, they left the rectory. Laurant was thoroughly frustrated by the lack of action, even though she realized her expectations had been unrealistic. She wanted answers and results-maybe even a miracle-to make this nightmare go away, but by the time the detectives left, she felt… hopeless. Because her brother seemed so relieved that something was being done-the cavalry had arrived after all-she didn’t tell him how she felt. In fact, she didn’t get a chance to talk to him for the rest of the afternoon. His attention was diverted elsewhere.

Tommy was so rattled by what was happening, he forgot it was Sunday afternoon. But then he happened to look out the window and saw the kids waiting for him. There was a tradition at Mercy parish on warm Sunday afternoons when Tommy was in town, and he wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of the ritual that meant so much to the children in the neighborhood. At precisely quarter of three, all other duties and concerns came to a standstill, when a large number of neighborhood kids gathered in the church parking lot and began to clamor for Father Tom to come outside. Tommy put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, kicked his shoes and socks off, and grabbed a towel. He made Laurant stay inside-it was safer he told her-but she could watch the fun from one of the windows.

As was the custom and barring any unforeseen complications, a fire truck arrived at three o’clock, and two good-hearted off-duty firemen closed the gates to the lot and opened the fire hydrant. The children, including toddlers through high schoolers, eagerly waited while the firemen adjusted the heavy nozzle between the iron gates and clamped it to the rails so that the hose wouldn’t go skittering every which way. Then the water was turned on. The kids wore cutoff jeans or shorts. None of them owned swimming suits-such apparel wasn’t in their parents’ budgets-but that didn’t diminish their excitement. After stacking their towels and shoes on the steps of the rectory, they played in the water until their clothes were soaked, splashing and shouting with as much enthusiasm as any children at a country club. There weren’t any fancy kidney-shaped pools with diving boards and water slides at Mercy. They made do with what they had, and for an hour, while the firemen and any other adults who had tagged along with their little ones sat with Monsignor on the porch and sipped cold lemonade, chaos reigned.

When Tommy wasn’t busy holding on to the smaller children so they wouldn’t be swept into the bushes by the force of the spray, he manned the medical kit and dispensed Neosporin, glow-in-the-dark Band-Aids, and sympathy for skinned knees and elbows. After the firemen turned the water off and prepared to leave, Monsignor dispensed Popsicles. No matter how tight money was or how poor the collections were that week, there was always enough set aside for these treats.

After the pandemonium had died down and the waterlogged, worn-out children had all gone home, Monsignor McKindry insisted that Nick and Laurant join Tommy and him for a peaceful dinner. Tommy and Nick prepared the meal. Nick grilled chicken while Tommy fixed a salad and green beans fresh from the monsignor’s garden. The table conversation revolved around the monsignor’s reunion, and he entertained his guests with one story after another about the trouble he and his friends had caused during their seminary days. By unspoken agreement, no one discussed what the older priest called the "disturbing event" during dinner, but later as Monsignor McKindry and Laurant worked side by side washing and drying the dishes, he brought up the topic again when he asked her how she was handling the worry. She told him she was frightened, of course, but also so angry she wanted to start throwing things Monsignor took her at her word and immediately snatched the plate she was drying out of her hands.

"When your brother found out he had cancer, I know he felt powerless and frustrated and angry, but then he decided to take charge of his medical care. He read as much as he possibly could about his specific type of cancer, and that was quite a challenge because his is such a rare type. He studied all the medical journals and he interviewed a good number of specialists in the field until he found the man who had set the protocol for treatment."

"Dr. Cowan."

"Yes," Monsignor replied. "Tom felt that Dr. Cowan could help him. He didn’t expect any miracles, of course, but Tom had faith in Dr. Cowan, and the physician seems to know what he’s doing. Your brother’s holding his own in this battle," he added. "And that’s why, when the oncologist transferred to Kansas Medical Center, Tom followed him. What I’m trying to advise you to do, Laurant, is take charge. Figure out a way you can do that and then you won’t feel so helpless or afraid."

After they finished cleaning the kitchen, Monsignor brewed her one of his special toddies, guaranteed to soothe her frazzled nerves. Then he said his good nights and went upstairs to bed. The drink was bitter, but she dutifully drank it down because Monsignor had gone to so much trouble for her.

It had been a hell of a day. It was late now, almost ten o’clock, and the stress had worn her out. She sat on the sofa next to her brother in the rectory living room, trying to pay attention as they formulated their plans. But concentration was difficult, and she couldn’t keep her thoughts from wandering. She couldn’t even seem to block out the background noise. An old air conditioner propped in the window adjacent to the fireplace droned on and on like a swarm of angry bees, yet barely cooled the room. Occasionally the unit would shudder violently before returning to the monotonous droning again. She kept expecting the thing to leap out of the window. Icy condensation dripped down into a spaghetti pot Tommy had placed under the window to protect the hardwood floor he was determined to refinish one of these days, and the constant pinging noise was driving her to distraction

Nick was full of energy. He was pacing around the living room, his head down as he listened to what Tommy was saying. Her brother, she noticed, was quieter-he’d taken his tennis shoes off and propped his feet up on the ottoman. There was a huge hole in one of his white socks, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his big toe was sticking out. He was yawning every other minute.

Laurant felt as limp and lifeless as a rag doll. She put the china cup on the table, sank back into the soft cushions of the sofa, took a couple of deep breaths, and closed her eyes. Maybe tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, she’d be more clearheaded.

So lost was she in her own thoughts, she flinched when Tommy nudged her knee to get her attention.

"Are you falling asleep on us?"

"Just about."

"I think you and Nick should stay here tonight. We’ve got two extra bedrooms. They’re Spartan but adequate."

"You’ve only got one extra bedroom," Nick said. "Noah’s going to be here anytime now."

"Who’s Noah?" Laurant asked.

"A friend," Nick answered. "He’s coming in from D.C."

"Nick thinks I need a baby-sitter."

"Bodyguard," he corrected. "Noah’s good at what he does. He’s going to stick to you like gum on a shoe. No arguments. I can’t be in two places at once, and since you want me to stay with Laurant, I’m putting Noah on you."

"Do you think Tommy’s in danger?" Laurant asked.

"I’m not taking any chances."

"Is Noah with the FBI?"

"Not exactly."

He didn’t go into detail, but she was too curious to drop the subject. "Then how do you know him?"

"We used to work together. Noah’s… specialized… and Pete uses him every now and then. I had to call in a favor to get him. He’s swamped with business these days."

"As a bodyguard?"

"You could say that."

"You aren’t going to tell me what his specialty is, are you?"

Nick grinned. "No, I’m not."

Tommy yawned loudly. "It’s settled then?"

"What’s settled?" she asked.

"Haven’t you been paying attention? We’ve been discussing the matter for the past fifteen minutes."

"No, I haven’t," she admitted, and because he was her brother she didn’t feel the need to apologize. "What did you settle?"

"You’re going away with Nick." He glanced up at his friend and added, "That’s what I decided anyway. Nick’s ambivalent."

"Oh? Where would we be going?"

"Nathan’s Bay," he answered. "You could stay with the family. They’d love to see you, and I know they’ve been begging you to come. It’s a great place, Laurant, and it’s isolated too. There’s only one way in and out," he added. "Over a bridge. I’m telling you, you’ll love it there. The front yard is the size of a football field, and just beyond is the water. Maybe Theo will take you sailing. You’ve met Nick’s brother, remember?"

"Yes, of course I remember him. He stayed with Grandfather and me for a week after he finished law school."

"And aren’t you still corresponding with Jordan?" he asked, referring to Nick’s sister.

"Yes, and I’d love to see her again, and Judge and Mrs. Buchanan too, but-"

Tommy cut off any protest she was going to make. "And you’d finally get to meet all the others," he pressed. "I’m sure they’ll come home to see you."

"That would be nice, but Tommy, now isn’t the time."

"It’s the perfect time. You’ll be safe, and that’s all you should be thinking about now."

"What makes you think this lunatic won’t follow me? Have you considered Nick’s family? I could be putting them in danger."

"We’d make it secure," Nick said. He sat down in the easy chair on the other side of the ottoman and leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. "But I think we’re going to be staying here for another day, maybe two."

"To wait for the letter the man told Tommy he mailed to the police?"

"We don’t have to wait on that."

"I want my sister out of here now," Tommy insisted.

"Yeah, I know you do."

"Then why do you want to hang around? It’s dangerous," he argued.

"I doubt our man is still in Kansas City. He’s done what he came here to do. He’s probably gone back home. We’re staying because Pete’s coming here. He’s personally overseeing the investigation, and he wants to talk to you."

"About what?" Laurant asked. "What can Tommy tell him he doesn’t already know?"

Nick smiled. "Lots of things," he said.

"When is he coming?"

"Tomorrow."

"I was pretty shaken up when I talked to him," Tommy said. "I was real desperate to find you because I figured you’d know what to do."

"Do you still figure that?" Nick asked.

"Of course."

"Then let me do my job. Laurant and I will wait to talk to Pete before I take her away. I’m going to protect her, Tommy, and you’re just going to have to trust me."

He slowly nodded. "I’ll try not to get in the way. Is that good enough?"

The doorbell rang and the conversation came to an abrupt end. Nick told Tommy to stay where he was and went to open the door. Laurant noticed he unsnapped the flap over his gun on his way out of the room.

"I’m sure that’s Nick’s friend, Noah."

"Do you think he sleeps with it?" she asked her brother in a whisper.

"Sleeps with what?"

"His gun."

He laughed. "Of course not. You don’t like it, do you?"

"I don’t like guns."

"Do you like Nick?"

She shrugged. "I liked him before I met him because he’s been such a good friend to you, and he seems very nice."

"You think so?" he asked, and then he laughed again. "Nick would get a kick out of hearing that. When the chips are down, when things get bad, he isn’t nice at all. That’s what makes him good."

Before she could nag him into giving her specifics, Nick returned to the living room. His friend Noah followed him.

Tommy’s bodyguard certainly made a strong first impression. Laurant suspected that if he were ever involved in a brawl, he’d come out the winner and relish the good time he’d had slamming heads together.

He was dressed in faded jeans and a light gray T-shirt, and his sandy blond hair was in desperate need of a trim. There didn’t seem to be an extra ounce of fat anywhere, and the muscles in his upper arms strained the bands on his shirtsleeves. A scar below his eyebrow and a devilish grin gave him a rakish appearance, and she knew before he’d spoken a word that he was a flirt and a ladies’ man. He’d already given her the once-over as he crossed the room to shake Tommy’s hand, and his gaze, she’d noticed, had lingered on her legs a bit longer than was necessary.

"I really appreciate you taking the time from your busy schedule to come here," Tommy said.

"Yeah, well, to be honest, I wasn’t given a choice. Nick asked."

"He owes me," Nick explained.

"True," Noah agreed, his gaze still on Laurant. "And he never lets me forget it."

When Tommy introduced him to his sister, he took hold of her hand and didn’t let go. "You’re a hell of a lot prettier than your brother," he drawled. Glancing at Nick, he added, "Say, I’ve got a great idea."

"Forget it," Nick replied.

Acting as though he hadn’t heard him, he suggested, "Why don’t I take her and you can have her brother."

"She’s off limits, Noah."

"How come?" he asked, his eyes locked on Laurant’s. "You married?"

"No," she answered, smiling over his outrageous behavior.

"Then I don’t see the problem. I want her, Nick."

"Too bad," Nick snapped.

Noah’s smile widened. He had obviously gotten just the reaction he wanted because he winked at Laurant, as though she were a partner in his game to irritate Nick. He finally let go of her hand and turned to Tommy again. "So what do I call you? ‘Torn’ or ‘Tommy’ or just plain ‘priest’?"

"You call him ‘Father,’" Nick interjected.

"But I’m not Catholic."

"Tom or Tommy will be fine," Tommy said.

"Pete told me you have a copy of the tape," Noah said then. His smile was gone now. "I think I’d better listen to it."

"It’s in the kitchen," Tommy told him.

"Good," he replied. "I’m starving. Have you got anything to eat?"

"Would you like me to fix you something?" Laurant offered.

When Noah looked at her again, the smile was firmly back in place. "Yeah, I’d like that a lot."

Nick didn’t like it at all. Shaking his head, he said, "You can fix yourself something to eat. Now that you’re here, Laurant and I are going to take off. She’s wiped out."

"What’s the schedule tomorrow?" Noah asked.

"I’ve got to go back to the hospital for a couple of tests," Tommy said. "Just routine stuff," he added for Laurant’s benefit.

"Hell, I hate hospitals."

"They ought to be sending you thank-you notes," Tommy remarked dryly. "From what Nick’s told me about you, you send them a lot of customers."

"Nah, I cut out the middleman. I send them right to the morgue. Saves time and money." Noah glanced at his friend. "What’d you tell your priest about me?"

"That you shoot to kill."

Noah shrugged. "That’s about right, but then, so do you. My aim’s better, that’s all."

"No, it isn’t," Nick countered.

Laurant was fascinated by the conversation, but she couldn’t tell if Noah was joking or telling the truth. "Have you killed a lot of people?"

"Now Laurant, you know better than to ask me that. I can’t kill and tell. Besides, it’s a sin to brag, isn’t it, Tom?"

Nick laughed. "Bragging is the least of your sins, Noah."

"Hey, I’m a good man. I like to think of myself as an environmentalist."

"How’s that?" Nick asked.

"I’m doing my part to make the world a better place." Turning back to Tommy he asked, "Are we going to be at the hospital all day?"

"No, I’ve got an early appointment in radiology. We should be back here by eight or nine."

"Is it time for another MRI?" Nick asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "If so, I really want to be there for you."

"What’s so funny about an MRI?" Noah asked.

Nick shook his head and Tommy actually blushed as he answered.

As a matter of fact, I am having another MRI, but Nick can’t go with me. He’s been banned from radiology."

Noah wanted details, and it didn’t take Laurant long to realize she was the reason Nick and Tommy weren’t giving him any. They squirmed around their explanation like naughty schoolboys hauled in front of the principal.

"If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go and get my purse."

She hadn’t even reached the kitchen before she heard the laughter. Tommy was telling the story, but because he was speaking in such a low voice, she could only catch a word or two. Whatever had happened with Nick in the radiology department was hilarious to the three men. She found her purse on the floor next to the chair, looped the strap over her shoulder, and then leaned back against the table and waited for the laughter to die down.

Nick came looking for her. "You ready?"

With a nod she followed him to the front door. Tommy stooped down so she could kiss him on the cheek, and Noah immediately imitated the action.

Laughing, she pushed him back. "You’re a terrible flirt."

"Yeah, I am," he agreed. "And you’re one hell of a beautiful woman."

Ignoring the compliment, she said, "Watch over my brother."

"Don’t you worry. I’ve been bred to do just that. I come from a long line of law enforcement officers, so I’m a natural protector. It’s in the genes," he added. "Sleep well, Laurant."

She nodded. Nick opened the door, but she paused on the threshold. "Noah? What’s your last name?"

"Clayborne," he answered. "Noah Clayborne."