Flawless (25 page)

“Are you sure that girl's boyfriend was involved?”

He nodded. “As sure as we can be. Maria must have turned off the alarm. There was no evidence of a break-in.”

“How do you know he gave her his real name?”

“We don't, but we have to follow every lead.”

“Every lead,” she repeated. “With most of the leads leading to Finnegan's?”

He hesitated, about to deny it. But his gut told him it was true.
Enough
leads pointed to Finnegan's that he had no choice but to assume the place was connected somehow.

Not to mention his undercover work that day had paid off big-time.

Joey, yeah.
McManus had said he knew a Joey, and the guy seemed to be a real player. Smart man, wanted to see where his money went, wanted to understand all the ins and outs, whether they were talking stocks, gold—or diamonds. There was a distinct possibility he was Maria's Joe.

Craig trusted Kieran; he believed in her. He was worried about her safety. And he meant to use her talents, even the illegal ones.

But he still couldn't tell her everything he knew.

“I just realized,” she said suddenly. “Mayo was there today and he didn't recognize you, did he?”

“Neither did Eagan when he saw us yesterday,” Craig said.

She punched him lightly on the arm. “Don't you ever do that to me again—ever. Because I'll know. I'll always know it's you.”

He didn't doubt that she would. He pulled her close. “I won't.”

“Because you don't want to deceive me—or because I'll catch you anyway?”

“Both,” he told her honestly. “Kieran, I am what I am.”

“An agent first and always.”

No, not really
, he thought,
or I wouldn't be here.

He pulled her closer, stroking her hair tenderly. He felt her body ease, felt her breathing grow rhythmic as she dozed.

It took him longer to sleep. And when he did, he dreamed that something was whizzing toward him through the air. Something moving faster than sound, faster than the speed of light.

But he was trying to catch it anyway. Catch it before it reached Kieran, who was standing directly in its path.

He realized then that it was a bullet.

And that no matter how fast he ran, he would never be able to stop it.

He woke drenched in sweat, frozen for a moment as he realized that they were both safe in her bed, in her apartment. She was still sleeping soundly in his arms.

And he knew that he had to make sure that bullet was never fired.

* * *

Kieran was never sure just how Craig always managed to see that things were arranged for her so easily—and apparently via telepathic communication. In this instance, she found Mike Dalton standing at her door just as it was time for her to go to work.

“He may be younger and cuter,” Mike told her, nodding in Craig's direction, “but I'm your man this morning.”

He wasn't in his usual suit; he was more casually dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt and a windbreaker.

“My man?” she asked, looking from one man to the other.

“I have to meet with Mayo this morning,” Craig said. “Mike will stay with you this morning, and this afternoon he'll be spelled by another agent, Marty Salinger.”

“Marty is kind of a pain-in-the-ass kid, but he's a good agent,” Mike assured her.

“I have twenty-four-hour bodyguards?” she asked.

“Someone did try to kill you—we're all agreed on that,” Craig said.

“I didn't say there was anything wrong with it,” Kieran told them, and smiled in unexpected relief. It was nice to feel protected. “In fact, I like it.”

“Good,” Mike said enthusiastically. “In that case, Miss Finnegan, shall we?”

“I'll see you tonight,” Craig told her. “And you'll know it's me—whether it's me or not,” he promised.

She didn't argue with him.

“Could we stop by the hospital to see Bobby?” she asked Mike as they walked down the stairs.

“Your chariot awaits, Miss Finnegan. I'm at your disposal,” he said. “No problem with getting to work late?”

“I helped with a situation yesterday, so I'm sure they'll comp me the time.”

Once they were in the car, Kieran excused herself to Mike and put a call through to the office to ask Jake to explain to their employers why she was going to be late.

Dr. Miro took the phone from Jake almost immediately. “Kieran? I gather you'll be in late today.”

“Yes. I hope it's all right.”

“You take all the time you need. I just heard from Tanya Lee Hampton's attorney, and Tanya is out on bail, reunited with her children for the time being. You did that, didn't you? How on earth did you manage it?”

Kieran looked over and saw Mike's curious eyes on her. Dr. Miro's voice seemed to be exceptionally loud; he could probably hear her. “I, um, know some good people,” she told Dr. Miro. “Of course, if she doesn't show for her court date, I'll be down one friend.”

“She'll show. I have no doubt of it. I understand you have to redo your report?”

Kieran winced at that. She'd hated lying to Ms. Terry, but she'd had no choice. Now she had to deal with the consequences of that lie.

“I just need to add a few more details,” Kieran murmured.

“Fine. You take all the time you need this morning. If you can give me that finished report by this afternoon, that will be fine,” Dr. Miro said.

“Of course,” Kieran agreed.

Mike was still watching her as she hung up. She glanced over at him. “A client my bosses took on pro bono. Dr. Miro is passionate about helping abused women.”

“So why is she the one in jail?” Mike asked.

“She, um, she cut off her husband's penis.”

“And
she
was the abused one?” Mike said, startled.

“No, she was arrested for that. She called 911 right away. Saved his life
and
his penis.”

“How...nice,” Mike said.

“Believe me, if you knew what he'd done to her, you'd applaud what she did.”

“I don't know about that, but I'm sure you deal with some pretty awful stuff,” he told her.

“So do you.”

“Yep. But sometimes we get to make it right.” He grinned at her and nodded toward a neon ticker tape on the building they were passing. “‘Any decent person would lend a hand,'” he said.

She groaned. “Why couldn't I have thought of something else to say?”

“You saved a woman's life.”

“Only fair, since it turns out I was the intended victim,” she said. “Trust me, I'm no hero. I just reacted without thinking.”

Mike smiled. “Hey, courage is a strange thing. It's stupidity, not courage, to put yourself in danger without considering the consequences. Courage, as we've all heard, is doing the right thing even when we're afraid.”

She grinned at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You and Craig are pretty stupid,” she teased.

He grinned back. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. Then he studied her again. “I'm glad my boy has found you. I hope that, as stupid as he may be, he's smart enough to keep you.”

Kieran stared back at him, a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, but also glad that she'd earned Mike's approval.

“Thanks,” she said simply.

They had reached the hospital by then, and he pulled up in front and started to get out of the car.

“Oh, Mike, we can't park here,” she began, then cut herself off. “I keep forgetting. You guys can park anywhere.”

“Just about,” he told her cheerfully.

She noticed that he stayed close to her as they walked inside, and she smiled. Stupidity, maybe. But of the nicest possible kind.

These guys were willing to take a bullet for her.

She prayed that it never came to that.

* * *

Craig went home for a change of clothes and then headed into the office. He reported in to Eagan quickly, then hurried down to Wally's office.

“I have something for you,” Wally said, picking up several sheets of paper. “Something, but not enough, I'm afraid. I have the numbers Maria Antonescu called and the numbers of the people who called her. She called her aunt at least once a day. She called Sylvia Mannerly twice a day. These numbers here...” He paused to point out several lines highlighted in pink. “...are her coworkers. I checked them all out. They're legitimate, phones like hers, cheap with pay-as-you-go plans. There is
one
number from a different no-contract company, but the phone was purchased with cash.” He grimaced as he looked at Craig. “The phone is no longer active. It was only used to dial Maria. There's no way to trace who owned it.”

“Do you know where it was purchased?”

Wally nodded. “A pharmacy in Tribeca.”

“Let me have the address. I'll see if I can find out anything.”

Wally brightened. “I can hack into their system and find out which salesperson sold it.”

“Wally,” Craig said, shaking his head, “no hacking—not from a government office, anyway. I'll head down there and hope the manager is a good guy. Thing is, those people probably sell these phones fairly frequently. I doubt anyone will remember who he sold this particular phone to.”

“I'm sorry,” Wally said. “Wish I could have given you more.”

“You may have given us everything we need,” Craig said. “We'll just have to find out.”

Craig headed to Marty's office before leaving. “Hey,” he said, and Marty looked up at him hopefully. Craig felt a moment's regret for being so hard on the kid; Marty had wanted to be an agent since he was a kid and just wanted to do well. Yes, he was dedicated to doing things by the book, but most new kids were. They had to get their feet wet before they could realize they had to think on their own sometimes.

He realized, though, that he wasn't afraid of having Marty watch over Kieran.

Marty would die for her.

That was by the book.

He didn't believe, however, that whoever wanted her dead would hire someone to do something like shoot her in the middle of the street. That would make it too obvious that someone had been after her. The killer, Craig was pretty damned sure, didn't want her death associated with the diamond thefts in any way. The killer believed that so far he and his cohorts were getting away with what they were doing—and the frustrating thing was that they were.

They wouldn't complicate that by getting caught knocking off someone who might have heard something that could threaten them. They would want her death to look random, accidental, unconnected to the case she'd gotten herself caught up in.

“Sir, can I help you?” Marty stood up eagerly.

“I need you to guard Kieran Finnegan later today. You wearing a vest?”

“Not at this moment, but I can put one on if you need me to. You think someone might try to shoot Miss Finnegan?”

“No. But I want you prepared just in case.” He ran through his plan for Marty's afternoon.

Marty nodded. “So after work I get her to Finnegan's on Broadway. And then...?”

“You hang around until Mike tells you to leave. He'll be there by seven or so.”

“Yes, sir,” Marty said.

“Marty, you don't have to ‘yes, sir' me. We were partners, and we're still coworkers. Just call me by my name.”

“Yes, sir,” Marty said.

Craig shook his head.

“I mean Craig. Is it all right if I hang around and eat there?”

“Sure.”

“Great, thank you.”

“Do you need the address?” Craig asked.

“No, thanks. I've been there a few times before.”

Hell, everyone had been there but him, Craig thought. How had he missed the place?

He left the office and headed to Tribeca, where the pharmacy manager, John Rowe, was quick to help him. He pulled the receipt from the records on the main computer, and he was even able to tell Craig who had sold the phone because each employee had an ID number that was associated with every sale.

The employee in question, however, wasn't in, and Rowe was unable to reach her by phone. She was due in to work at 4:00 p.m., so in the interim Craig returned to the office to go over his notes on everything they knew—and everything they didn't.

He decided to return to Rikers Island, and asked Eagan to pave the way for him.

Even with Eagan wielding his considerable power, Craig ended up standing by his car for an hour before he was let in. This time, he asked to see all four men together. That caused a further delay. They had different attorneys, and getting them all to agree to an interview was no easy task. Craig finally got them to agree by pointing out that finding the killers could only be a plus when their own clients went to trial.

Eventually, they were all arrayed before him at a table, each prisoner with an attorney at his side.

Sam Banner, Robert Stella, Lenny Wiener and Mark O'Malley all stared at him with matching looks of suspicion.

“First,” Craig said earnestly, “I want to thank you sincerely for seeing me. I'm not condoning what you did—squirt-gun larceny is still larceny—but you didn't kill anyone. If you ask me, you should all be furious that these killers imitated you so well that they were convinced that if you were caught, you'd be tried for their crimes, as well.”

The foursome looked at one another.

O'Malley stepped up as their spokesperson. “We've talked to you, we've talked to the cops and we've talked to Miss Finnegan. We would gladly tell you who the killers are, but the truth is, we don't know.”

“And,” Stella added angrily, “we don't know how they knew our exact MO, either.”

“None of you spoke to anyone else about any of this?” Craig asked.

“I swear on my mother's bones,” O'Malley said solemnly.

“All right, you've given us a list of places where you met, but now I need more lists from you. Friends, family, even acquaintances you bump into on a regular basis. Anyone with whom something just might have slipped.”