The Cop. Cara SummersЧитать онлайн книгу.
hope that she might be able to break free. Her Grandmother Riley had always told her to dream big. Evidently, getting out of police issue handcuffs was too big a dream.
Too bad Detective Angelis’s brother Kit hadn’t been carrying a spare key because he would have helped her. Although her conversation with him when he’d stumbled across her in the stairwell had been brief, she’d found Kit Angelis to be both kind and charming. She’d even accused him of being the “good cop” Nik had sent in to interrogate her. But unless she missed her guess, Kit Angelis had come to St. Peter’s with an agenda of his own.
And except for the pretty face and those incredibly blue eyes, she wouldn’t have guessed that the two men were even remotely related. When Nik Angelis had tapped the family gene pool, he’d passed on kindness and charm and loaded up on arrogance and rudeness instead.
Scowling at the radiator, J.C. vowed that she was going to make Detective Nik Angelis pay for his high-handed treatment of her. The little room he’d imprisoned her in was hot and stuffy. And he’d closed the door on her, so that the window air conditioner that had been fighting heroically to cool the sacristy couldn’t even reach her. At least Kit had propped the door open when he’d left. But so far the cooler air hadn’t made much progress into the room.
Worst of all, the handcuffs didn’t even allow her to pace her anger off. There was no way that she was going to let Nik Angelis get away with this. Even if he had kissed her into a puddle of lust.
Okay, that could be the true cause of her anger with the hunky detective, J.C. silently admitted. Or perhaps it was because he’d stopped kissing her and sauntered off to do his job as if he did that kind of kissing every day and it didn’t affect him in the least.
The problem was he’d simply destroyed her. Maybe had ruined her life. What if she never met another man who could make her feel that way?
Oh, God. She sat down on the radiator and dropped her head in her hands. The absolute worst of it was she wanted him to kiss her again. It didn’t even seem to matter that on some level, she hated his guts.
The fact that she’d reacted to him the way she had simply didn’t make sense. Unless it was due to an adrenaline rush. At the idea, her spirits perked up. Maybe that was it—because Nik Angelis was definitely not her type. He had a ton of qualities she didn’t like in a man. He was pushy and impossible. Just like her father.
Oh, she loved her father dearly, but he was an Olympic contender when it came to manipulation and getting his own way. Patrick Riley was a big, gruff bear of a man whose hero in life was Joe Kennedy, and like J.F.K.’s dad, he wanted to found a dynasty. His second marriage to Alicia Hensen, heiress and socialite, had brought an aura of prestige and money to his political aspirations, and now he wanted his children married and bearing children. And her stepmother, oddly enough, was cut from the same cloth. They gave lie to the theory that opposites attract.
Her current plan as far as her parents were concerned, was to fly under both of their radar screens by devoting all of her energy to building up the reputation of her catering business. “Have an Affair With J.C.” wasn’t the talk of San Francisco yet, but it would be. In the meantime, it kept her too busy to date the sophisticated, eligible and incredibly boring males her stepmother was volleying at her like so many tennis balls.
Her two older brothers had fallen in and they’d already produced two grandchildren each. Her younger brothers, the twins, were finishing at Annapolis and had been granted a reprieve. That meant that Patrick and Alicia Harwood Riley were focused on her. She’d managed to slip out of their sights for a year by attending culinary school in New York. But now that she was back in San Francisco, her only excuse was her work. The weddings she was catering thanks to Father Mike were little plums that fate had dropped right into her lap, especially because they occurred on the weekends—prime date time.
The thought of Father Mike had her stomach sinking, and once again she pictured those seconds that had seemed to happen in slow motion—the flash of fire and the deafening sound of the gun going off. She didn’t even know how serious Father Mike’s condition was. The least that Detective Nik Angelis could do would be to come back and fill her in.
Sensitivity was obviously another quality he’d missed when he’d dipped into the Angelis gene pool. She glanced down at her cuffs. He would have to come back to release her, and when he did, she would have a grip on herself.
Her adrenaline had settled. Reaching into her pocket, she took out a sugar-coated almond and popped it into her mouth. Once he’d released her from the handcuffs, she’d go her way and he’d go his.
J.C. frowned down at the handcuffs. Just as soon as she paid him back in spades.
“WHAT WE’VE GOT HERE is a time bomb,” Commissioner Galvin said. “Do you think any of it has leaked yet, Angelis?”
“Hard to say, sir.” Nik led the way up the aisle of the church. He’d already shown them the small room in the choir loft. “I’ve given orders to the officers, but the EMTs don’t work for the SFPD.”
“What’s your take, Parker?”
Nik’s boss, D.C. Parker, nodded in his direction. “I agree with Angelis. We’ve got two missing kids, a wounded priest and a dead man. And we’ve got Roman Oliver, the older brother of the bride-to-be who had plenty of motivation to put a stop to the wedding and who seems to be involved. We don’t know what role the older sister played, but the fact that she left doesn’t look good.”
“She left her purse behind,” Nik pointed out. “In my experience, a woman rarely does that. Maybe in her rush to help the bride and groom escape, she didn’t have time to retrieve it.”
“Nice theory, Detective,” Parker said. “And in that case, we’ll hear from her soon. Before the media gets hold of this and focuses on a more headline-grabbing explanation for her disappearance.”
“The media will turn this whole thing into a circus,” Galvin said. “We need to find the bride and groom fast.”
“I agree.” Nik had known that neither his captain nor the commissioner would be happy about the situation. D.C. Parker was a political player, but he was also a good cop. Commissioner Galvin, on the other hand, had his eye on advancement. The word was that he was using his position as a stepping stone to the mayor’s office and perhaps one day the governor’s job. “The priest said that someone wanted to kill the bride and groom.”
“But Roman Oliver is in the hospital. Shouldn’t they be safe?” Commissioner Galvin asked.
“We don’t know that Roman is behind this,” Nik noted.
“He’s our prime suspect,” Galvin pointed out.
“Perhaps, but there’s a lot we don’t know,” Nik said. “Even if Roman is behind it, that puts him at risk if the Carlucci family decides to retaliate. I sent two men with him in the ambulance. We’ll need to post men twenty-four-seven on both him and Father Mike.”
“Right. Good thinking,” Galvin said. “What about the other eyewitness—the caterer?”
“She’ll need protection, too, of course. The man who shot Father Mike knows that she can ID him. He took off his ski mask when she hit him with her cell phone.” Nik ushered the two men through the sacristy and into the small anteroom where he’d left J.C. She was seated on the radiator, and she shot him a look that nearly seared his skin.
Then her expression completely changed, and he watched in astonishment as she beamed a smile at the commissioner. “Uncle Chad? Is that you?”
“Jude Catherine? What are you doing here?” Commissioner Galvin moved forward and enveloped J.C. in a huge hug. When she tried to hug him back, her handcuffs clanged against the radiator pipe.
“What’s all this?” Galvin frowned down at the handcuffs and then turned to Nik. “Why is my godchild in handcuffs?”
“Yes, Detective Angelis, I’m wondering that myself,” Parker said.
“Mayor