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

“Detective Wukowski, how could you let this happen to my niece?”

He looked abashed, all six feet of him. “Uh…well, ma’am, I didn’t exactly let it happen. Angie’s not easy to hold back, you know.” He glanced at me, asking for understanding as he sought to escape the wrath of Aunt Terry.

She turned on me. “So, young lady, you disregarded police advice?”

I lay back against the couch pillows and put my hand over my forehead.

Aunt Terry immediately went into Mom mode. “Does your head hurt? Are you sure there’s no concussion? I should call Dr. Palmieri. Two concussions in such a short time could be very bad. Just look at all those NFL players.”

“I’m fine, Aunt Terry. So is Bobbie. The ER ran tests. It’s just bruising from the pounding we took.”

“Pounding? Who put his hands on you?” Again, she glared at Wukowski.

He raised his hands, palms up. “Not me, ma’am. Not Iggy, either.”

“Nobody touched us, Aunt Terry,” I interrupted before Wukowski was forced to cry ‘mercy.’ “It was pipes—really big pipes. Why don’t you offer Iggy and Wukowski something to drink and I’ll tell you the story.” She bustled into the kitchen.

It took a while to recount our adventures in Illinois. Aunt Terry tsk’d and oh-my’d. Several times, she whispered, ‘Angelina!’ in a horrified voice. When I got to the end, I took a big slurp of my now lukewarm hot chocolate. “Your turn,” I told Wukowski and Iggy. “What happened with Petrovitch?”

“Illinois has him in custody,” Iggy said. “They’ll hold him until the MPD sends a squad to bring him back to Milwaukee.”

“I want details. What happened at the truck stop?”

“Yeah,” Bobbie chimed in. “Did he just surrender when the cops showed up?”

Wukowski ran his hand over his hair. “It was the damnedest thing I ever saw.” He glanced at Aunt Terry. “Sorry. Darnedest thing.” Then he returned to me. “We pulled into the truck stop, following the Illinois cops, with their sirens and lights on. We saw the Cruiser and its shot-out tire. There was no sign of Petrovitch. Iggy was driving—”

“But not fast enough for Wukowski,” Iggy interrupted. “He told me to get my, um, butt over there, PDQ. There were maybe eight semis circled up, like a wagon train. So I stopped at the Cruiser, the troopers behind us. Three truckers walked over from the circle, all with firearms.”

Wukowski took over. “They set them on the pavement and one of them—Al—told us that they saw a man and a woman make a run for it, after the guy in the Buick fired on them. The Buick tried to follow, but they penned him in with their semis. They shot off a few rounds from various directions, to warn him. He put his weapon down and locked the car doors. One of them called 9-1-1 and then they all sat there, engines idling. They saw Petrovitch make a call on his cell phone, but didn’t approach him. When the State Police arrived, he cooperated. What else was he going to do, penned in by semis and with plenty of weapons trained on him, both civilian and police?”

Iggy laughed. “First thing I had to do when we caught up with you and Bobbie was call Al and tell him you were okay, so he could let the rest of the guys know. They couldn’t believe you two made it into those pipes. ‘Especially the grandma,’ one of them said.”

I decided not to take offense. “Well, I am a grandmother, and proud of it. Although nonna sounds better than grandma.”

“Oh, Al said to tell you that he made arrangements to have the tire repaired.”

I groaned. “Was there other damage from the gunfire?”

“I’m not sure,” Wukowski said. “Once we heard what happened, we took off after the truck. But Iggy called Bram about the car. He said not to worry about it. He can use his truck. He and Spider will drive down to pick up the Cruiser later.”

“Later? Where are they now?” Bobbie asked.

Wukowski glanced over at Aunt Terry, perched on the edge of a chair, cup halfway to her mouth, where I think it stopped as soon as Wukowski and Iggy began their account. “They’re outside, on guard duty. Spider told us that Petrovitch had someone watching your condo, Angie. We need to be sure the threat is over before Bram’s team disbands.”

Aunt Terry set the cup and saucer down hard on my side table. “Angelina, you will come home and stay with your papa and me.” She frowned, daring me to disagree.

I sighed. “Bram’s security is better than anything Papa could organize. Bram had a top-secret special ops government job. It’s safer if I stay here and let him work out the details.” I turned to Bobbie. “Adriana’s still under guard. I think you need to take up residence in my guest room, Bobbie. At least for a little while.”

Bobbie nodded and closed his eyes. “I know they said we don’t have concussion, but my head is about to burst open and I can’t wait until it does.”

“Small wonder,” I said. “You took the worst of it, trying to shelter me. Your head was on the concrete pipe. Mine was on your chest.”

“Bobbie,” Aunt Terry said, “there’s nothing so important being discussed here that you can’t hear about it later. Come. You need to take your pain medication and lie down.” She shepherded him into the guest room, emerging in a few minutes and closing the door carefully. Then she marched back into the living room and stood in the center, hands on hips. “Iggy, Detective Wukowski—” her head swiveled to each one as she named them—“do you believe Angie is safe with Bram and this Spider person?”

“Safe as can be.” Wukowski’s answer could be taken two ways, but it satisfied Aunt Terry, who sat back down in the chair.

“So, what’s next?” I asked Wukowski.

“We bring Petrovitch in, book him with assault with a deadly weapon and interrogate him. So far, all we have