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

“I can’t believe you pulled that stunt.” His voice rose. “You could have been killed.”

“Would you or Bram let Petrovitch take off and not follow him?” I challenged.

“Course not. I don’t mean that. But Iggy told us you kept on Petrovitch’s tail even after he spotted you.” He shook his head. “Not smart, Angie.”

The hair on my head would have stood up straight, if I hadn’t already gelled and spiked it. “We took a calculated risk, Spider. There was no way we were letting him get away. I bet you would’ve done the same. And don’t give me any crap about being a woman.” I yanked the small suitcase from his grasp, walked down the hall and set it outside the guest room door. “Bobbie, your clothes are here,” I called as I knocked.

Bobbie opened the door, covered only by a towel slung low on his hips. “Uh…thanks.”

I stood there, breathing deeply.

“Angie?” he said.

“Sorry. I’m trying to regain my composure.”

“Huh?” He put a hand on the knot of his towel.

I suddenly realized that he thought I was overcome by his physique and laughed, holding onto the door jamb for support. My ribs hurt, but it felt good to release the tension. “Sorry,” I sputtered. “It’s not you, it’s Spider.”

“Really? Does Wukowski know?”

“Idiot! I was taking deep breaths because Spider hacked me off. Or rather, because he, Bart and Wukowski hacked me off. He was just the last one in the line.”

“For a minute there, I saw a little silver dragon, breathing fire.” Bobbie picked up the suitcase and disappeared into the bedroom.

I went back to the hall and “made nice” with Spider, who assured me that he meant nothing condescending in his remarks and was just worried about me. I, in turn, apologized for overreacting. We parted on friendly terms.

Dialing Bram, I sent up a prayer that he, too, wouldn’t come down on me. “Hey, Bram,” I said when he answered. “It’s Angie. I’m so sorry about your car. Please let me repay you for the tire repair and any other damages. Have you seen it yet?” It all came out in a rush. Slow down, I told myself.

“A friend is going to drive it up for me today. Don’t worry about the damages. It’ll go on the bill I submit to Bart Matthews.” He sounded very nonchalant.

“And Bart will put it on the bill for Adriana.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s do this. If Adriana gets the money from her parents’ bequest, we’ll let her cover the costs. After all, it’s legit. We are working on her case. But if she doesn’t come out of this okay, I’ll eat it. And don’t tell me otherwise, Ms. Bonaparte!”

I huffed a bit, but agreed. If it gave Bram a good feeling to do something benevolent, who was I to deny him? It was a relief that he didn’t mention my part in the chase.

Bart showed up promptly at ten and we set out for police headquarters. Iggy and Wukowski were nowhere in sight when we arrived. A moment of stillness interrupted the usual conversations in the bullpen, until a gray-haired man grinned at me and gave me a two-fingered salute as he walked over. “Matthews.” He nodded to Bart. “How are ya?”

“Good, Penske. You?”

“Good.” He turned to me. “You Ms. Bonaparte?” He got the pronunciation right.

“Yes.” I extended my hand. “Call me Angie.”

“Art,” he said as we shook. “You?” he asked Bobbie. They completed the introduction routine. “Wukowski and Iggy’re tied up.” He shook his head. “This one’s a doozy, all right.” He looked me up and down, then did the same to Bobbie. A gravelly laugh burst out. “I saw the video from the surveillance cameras. Gotta hand it to ya both. Didn’t think you’d make it onto the truck. You did good, bothaya.” He laughed again. “So, I get to take your statements. Let’s go to a room.”

The process was the usual. Penske asked us questions, Bart vetted them and we responded when he gave us the nod. He only objected when Penske asked us to surmise. While our statements were being typed, we read over the faxed copies from Illinois and signed them. When Penske came back in the room with the MPD statements, we read and signed them, too. “Thanks for comin’ in,” Penske said. He gathered all the copies and turned to leave.

“Wait a minute.” I was determined to get a status. “What’s happening with Petrovitch?”

Penske rubbed the back of his neck and twisted to look over his shoulder at me, grimacing slightly. “I can’t tell ya. Sorry.”

I felt my body tighten and I stood, but before I could protest, Bart spoke. “Officer, our client, Ms. Johnson, is still under our protection. I think we deserve to know more about the progress of this investigation in order to assure her safety.” He remained at the table, hands folded, waiting.

Penske turned back to us. “Yeah. I get that. So here’s what I can say. We’re still investigatin’ Petrovitch’s contacts in relation to the money. Obviously, we’re also tryin’ to tie him to the murders. We got a coupla cooperative witnesses and we’re hopin’ it breaks soon. Fellow from ROTC—Colonel Lewis—he brought in some interestin’ info. So, bottom line, stuff should hit the fan pretty soon. Meanwhile, I’d keep a close watch on yer client.” He paused. “Wukowski would have my butt if he thought I said anythin’ ta set ya off, Angie.”

I could only imagine. “Don’t worry. I’m lying low and nursing my bruises. So is my associate.” I nodded at Bobbie.

Bart handed Penske a card. “Let the officers in charge know that I’m waiting for a status.”

“Will do,” Penske said.

***

Once in Bart’s car, I put my head back and closed my eyes. The events of the past nine days—was it really only nine days?—ran through my brain. Adriana’s story. Dragana’s murder. Petrovitch’s disappearance. The attic. Lily. Josif Zupan. The Serbian Society. Spider, Bram and the security team. Bobbie deciding to pursue a PI career. Colonel Lewis.