Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set Nanci Rathbun (i love reading books txt) 📖

and smiled the endearing smile that transformed him. “Where were we?”

Suddenly, my energy level rose. I climbed on his lap, straddling him, and unfastened the rest of the buttons on his dress shirt. He returned the favor by easing my arms out of the sweater I wore and pulling it over my head. He groaned when he saw the shell pink demi-bra.

My couch was comfortable and wide, but I wouldn’t want to change locations afterward. I stood and took Wukowski’s hand to lead him into the bedroom. He picked up the gun holster and brought it along. I decided to ignore the aura of danger. Just this once.

Chapter 23

The people must be the ones to win, not the war, because war has nothing to do with humanity. War is something inhuman.

—Zlata Filipovitch

I woke to Wukowski spooning me. It was reassuring to feel so safe. When his breathing and his body told me he was awake, I turned in his arms and snuggled.

He kissed the top of my head and said, “Nothing I’d like better than to stay in bed with you, Angie, but my plate is overflowing at work. I need to be in the office by seven-thirty. Coffee?”

Darn. I filled my coffee cup and retrieved the Journal-Sentinel from the hallway while Wukowski took a shower and dressed. He emerged from the bedroom, looking all professional.

“Wukowski, I got a family photo of the Johnsons yesterday, but I might need some help with pictures of Herman Petrovitch and Josif Zupan.”

“I can get their DMV photos, but you know how good they usually are.”

“Better than nothing. Can you send them in an email, with the DMV stats, too? Colonel Lewis is out of town, but he wants me to deliver them ASAP so he can start a search on the Interpol and Bosnian war criminals databases.”

“Provided he sends me the search results as soon as they come in, even if they’re negative.”

“Of course. I don’t want you in the dark about any of this.” I didn’t say that I understood how dangerous this game was. Wukowski had enough angst about me already.

“When the meeting is over, I’ll get on it.” He hugged me close and spoke quietly into my ear. “Be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I have no intentions of engaging these guys. And Spider has my back.” I raised my head and kissed him. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll call later. Okay if I spend the night?”

It was rare that we were together on two consecutive nights. We both liked to have a little break. To be honest, we were probably afraid of moving any faster. But I sensed his request was more about needing to keep me safe than it was about sex. “Absolutely okay,” I said.

It was too early to call Lily about meeting with Professor Kolar. I perused the newspaper and came across the obituary for Dragana Zupan. Her parents, brothers and a sister were listed as deceased. Josif was her only survivor. She was born in Sarajevo. Her maiden name was Osmanović. Based on the Jovanović-Johnson and Petrovitch-Peterson paradigm, her English name would be Osmanovitch, translated to ‘son of Osman.’

I pulled out my tablet and did a search. ‘Osman’ came from the Arabic boy’s name Uthman. Several Ottoman rulers were named Osman. So before her marriage, Dragana was either a Muslim woman or a woman whose family had a Muslim heritage. She married a Serbian and practiced the Serbian Orthodox faith. How did that connect to the contents of the attic?

I marked my calendar for the funeral and added to my to-do list to ask Bram if it was safe for Bobbie to attend with me.

The weather forecast predicted cloudy skies with temps in the mid-40s, but no precipitation. I wandered into my walk-in closet. I could get by with my short Burberry trench coat, as long as I kept the lining in and wore layers underneath.

Assuming Lily set up a meeting with Professor Kolar today, I wanted to look professional, but approachable. I sorted through the winter side of my work garb and settled on a soft teal blouse, gray shawl-collar sweater that ended just above the waist and skinny leg gray wool pants. I’d wear deep eggplant pumps for a flash of fun. I laid the clothes on the bed.

My cell phone rang. “Angie, it’s Lily. I’m sorry to call so early, but Professor Kolar is leaving for a conference on the west coast tomorrow. Can you meet us at the library at ten-thirty?”

“That’s perfect, Lily. Should I just come to your desk?”

“Yes. I’ll arrange a private room. And, Angie, she seemed sort of…I don’t know, maybe withdrawn or worried, when I asked her.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you make the introductions and then say something to lighten things up?”

“Like what?”

“Well, talk about how much you love mysteries and how excited you were to meet a real private investigator. Then I’ll tell how we met while I was trying to identify the stuff I found in the attic. It’s liable to get tense from there, so do whatever you can to put her at ease.”

“I guess that makes me the good cop, right?”

I smiled at her enthusiasm. “It does. I really appreciate your help in setting this up, Lily.”

“My pleasure. See you later.”

I dialed Spider.

“Yo,” he said.

“Spider, when do you sleep?”

“York sent a retired Feeb over last night so I could get a couple hours. I figured you’d be fine, with police protection right there at your side.”

I blushed a bit. “A Feeb, eh?”

“Yeah, FBI. But don’t ever say “feeb” to their face. What’s up?”

I filled him in on the meeting. He wanted to be in the room, but I explained how nervous the professor seemed and he agreed to wait nearby. He had the code to my building’s underground parking and would pick me up at the elevator in a reinforced sedan, on loan from Bart. Thank goodness I wouldn’t have to navigate the Ram again.

I checked the bedside clock. It was a few minutes after eight.