Merchants with Evil Intent (36 page)

      
Because even though he had no rational
reasoning for it, and it wasn’t logical, he was in love with her.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“But she really is,” Joe replied.

      
She snorted, “Twenty-five and still a
virgin?
Gimme a break.”
He eyed her curiously. “What?
A lot of women say that. They think it makes them more desirable,” Camille
commented.

      
“Okay, but I’ve known Camryn for quite
some time and I’m pretty sure she’s telling the truth.”

      
She grinned slightly. “You dog! You dated
her?”

      
“No! I’m just saying I believe her. Why
are we even having this conversation anyway?”

      
“I dunno. I can think of other things to
do,” she purred, inching closer to him.

      
He turned away from the kitchen cabinet
when he felt her arms around him. It was hard for him to be angry with her,
especially when he looked into her deep green eyes.

      
“Hey, I’m sorry. It was a bitchy thing to
say,” she murmured into his chest.

      
His phone rang in his pocket. “Butler,”
he mumbled.

      
“It’s McShane. Lukov abandoned the house
he rented, but we managed to get a few tips as to his whereabouts. We need you
down here, stat.”

      
Butler rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there
soon.”

      
Camille lifted her brows to him. “I gotta
go to the station. It sounds there’s a break in the case.”

      
“How long do you think you’ll be?”

      
He shrugged, “A few hours at the most.
Come here.”

      
He pulled her into his bedroom and lifted
the top corner of his mattress. She gasped at the sight of a gun.

      
“Have you ever held a gun before?”

      
She grinned, “Not one that small.”

      
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on,
I’m serious.”

      
“No, I’ve never held a gun before,” she
replied, rolling her eyes.

      
She begrudgingly took it from him and
held it like she saw them do on the cop shows she watched on TV. “Like this?”

      
“Yeah.
Don’t put
your finger on the trigger unless you plan on killing someone,” he warned.

      
“Should I be worried?” she frowned.

      
“No, I want you to know you have
protection, if you need it. Anyway, aim for the chest. It’s the largest target
on a person.”

      
“What if it’s a fat guy?” she teased.

      
He laughed, “Well still go for the chest.
Come on, I’ll show you a few things before I leave.”

      
He quickly showed her the basics of
firing a gun and showed her the spare bullets in the nightstand. “Sorry for the
Cliff Notes version, but I’ve got to jet. Any problems dial 9-1-1 first and
then me.”

      
He pulled her to him and kissed her
deeply. “See you soon, Camille.”

      
“Go catch the bad guy!” she half-smiled.

      
He looked back. “Camille?”

      
Her eyes sparkled at his voice. “Yes?”

      
“I love you.”

      
She brought her hand to her mouth, to
stop the trembling. “I love you, too.”

      
“Hot dog!” Joe whooped.

      
Camille closed the door and locked it.
Looking at Snoops, she giggled, “
Hot dog
?
What a weirdo!”

*
     
*
     
*

      
After Camryn told John most of the story,
he promised to secure a plane ticket for her as soon as possible. He liked the
fact she was with Declan, but surprised she didn’t want to stay. He didn’t
think Orlov was a factor in her decision to leave.

      
She was too pig-headed for that.

      
He received Ian Corrigan’s phone number from
McShane earlier in the day. It was at this time he dialed the long distance
number.

      
“Allo?” answered a female voice.

      
“I’d like to speak with Ian please,” John
replied. A few seconds later Ian answered. “Ian? Hello, my name is John O’Mara,
Camryn’s father.”

      
Ian grinned, “Your gel is safe, Mr.
O’Mara. She’s …”

      
“A hot-head?”
John finished.

      
“Aye!
She’s a
lovely gel though. No wonder Declan’s smitten with ‘er.”

      
John raised his eyebrow. “If that’s true,
then why does she want to come home?”

      
“‘Tis the first I’m hearin’ of this,” Ian
grumbled. “I thought they’d get on quite well, since they’re both barmy for one
another,” Ian replied.

      
John smiled. Maybe he’d take a little
longer to get a plane ticket after all.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn climbed into bed after talking to
John. She thought she’d feel better by making the call, but now wasn’t sure.

      
She laid in bed thinking about their
relationship. She’d always adored him and he was there when she needed him,
even when she pushed him away. But still, he could’ve told her the truth
sooner.

      
She rolled over and punched the pillow.
She wanted to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. Too much shit on her mind.

      
She turned her thoughts away from John
and Declan and thought about the book she wanted to write instead.

      
Within twenty minutes she was fast
asleep.

*
     
*
     
*

      
When Joe got to the station a team had
been assembled in the meeting room. McShane lead the charge. “We’ve received
information from Valik regarding Lukov. I guess prison life isn’t suitable for
him,” he scoffed. “Anyway, he wants to cooperate now and has given us several
addresses for us to check as well as an alias Lukov has been known to use.”

      
He passed around a stack of papers to the
team. “Joe, I want you and Travers to go and check out the first two places on
the list. Scoot!”

      
Travers offered to drive as they walked
into the parking garage. “How’s your girl?” he asked once they were in the car.

      
Joe grinned. “I work with a bunch of
women!
So much for keeping things quiet!”

      
Travers laughed, “Nothing’s secret there.
So?”

      
“Great. I mean, she’s great. She’s
staying with me until she feels comfortable in her apartment again.”

      
“Hopefully we’ll catch the son-of-a-bitch
and she won’t be afraid anymore,” Travers offered.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Declan thought he heard Camryn talking as
he tossed and turned in bed. He wanted to go to her, but resigned to stay in
bed.

      
He sprang from bed when his mobile rang.
“Aye?”

      
“What have you done to the gel?” Ian
screeched.

      
Declan frowned. “What?”

      
“She bloody wants to go home!”

      
“How would you know what she wants to
do?”

      
Ian sighed, “Her Da rang me. Asked what
was going on because she rang him earlier, said she wants to go home.”

      
Declan cursed softly. “Christ!
She
canna leave!”

      
“Orlov hasna rang again, has he?”

      
“Not that I’m aware of. I doona think
it’s him she’s trying to get away from. It’s me.”

      
“Why? What did you do?”

      
Declan ran his hand through his hair.
“It’s what I didna do.” He sighed and continued, “She came onto me and I pushed
her away.”

      
Ian choked back a laugh. “Are you barmy?”

      
“Good night, Ian!” Declan growled as he
rung off.

      
He sat for several minutes, indecision
muddling his brain.

      
In a quick leap he threw open his door
and stomped down the hall to her door.

      
Eoghan stood stoically in front, guarding
the door.

      
“Move!”
Declan
hissed.

      
“Nay, the lass is finally asleep. You may
make speech with her later in the morn. Off with you pup,” Eoghan waved a
dismissive hand.

      
“Do you know of her plans to leave?”

      
“Aye, I heard. Tis her decision to make,”
Eoghan shrugged.

      
Declan stood nose to nose with him,
nostrils flaring. “You said she’s me intended!”

      
Eoghan chuckled. “I didna say twould be
easy.”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Travers and Butler approached the run
down house slowly. The street was lined with litter and cars on blocks. Lights
were on inside the house and a television could be heard.

      
Butler inched towards a window and peeked
through the thin curtain. He saw an older African-American woman in a rocker,
laughing at something. He shook his head at Travers.

      
Travers knocked on the door when Butler
approached him.

      
“Who is it?”

      
“Chicago police, ma’am,” Travers
announced.

      
The door opened slightly. “ID please,”
she replied.

      
Travers pulled out his credentials and
showed them to her. She nodded and pointed at Butler, “His too.”

      
Butler showed his credentials and she
opened the door. “What can I do for you?” she asked wrapping a blanket tightly
around her fragile shoulders.

      
“Ma’am, we’re looking for a man by the name
of Alexander Lukov. We’ve information that he lives here,” Travers replied.

      
She shrugged. “He did up until a week
ago.
Rented the place to me real cheap.”

      
“Did he say where he was going?” Butler
asked.

      
“We ain’t friends, officer. Just rented
me the place and left,” she replied.

      
Travers sighed, “Did he leave anything
behind?”

      
“Just the rats,” she cackled.

*
     
*
     
*

      
While Travers and Butler walked to the
car, Izzy Mathers made a phone call.

      
“The cops was just here,” she was briefly
interrupted and continued, “I didn’t tell them nothin’ just like you said. When
can I expect my money?”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Something didn’t seem right, Butler
thought.

      
He turned to Travers. “I’ll be right
back.”

      
Travers leaned up against the car,
wondering what Butler had planned.

      
When Butler approached the door he heard
the old woman talking. It was a one-sided conversation as he didn’t hear any
replies within the house.

      
He wrapped loudly on the door.

      
Izzy hung up the phone and walked towards
the door. “Who is it?”

      
“Detective Butler,
ma’am.”

      
She peered out the window again. She
faked a smile before opening the door. “Yes?”

      
“I need to use your phone, ma’am.”

      
She narrowed her eyes.