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The Russian connection right after Carly had found a priceless Fabergé egg couldn’t be ignored. He focused onCarly’s pleading expression. One word, even to his best friend, could blow up on them. That egg was worth more money than he could ever imagine. Once that information made it into the investigation’s file, the news would get out. There would be no way of containing something that sensational.
He tore his attention away from Carly’s chocolate-brown eyes. He should tell Vince and swear him to secrecy, but he couldn’t bring the words out. Lucas would have to delve into this situation on his own, even with the conflict of interest.
He had no doubt he’d be cleared of any wrongdoing, but it might take some time. He could get into big trouble by sticking his nose into the investigation, but it couldn’t be helped. It was a miracle the captain hadn’t insisted he go to the hospital like standard operating procedure.
He realized Vince was staring at him with a lifted brow, and Lucas gathered his composure. “What’s this Dimitri guy into? Drugs, trafficking, the usual?”
“Yeah. Heavy into meth and heroin. He’s suspected of committing a string of burglaries and murders along the Eastern Seaboard as well, but no one has been able to lay a finger on him. Not yet at least.”
“And the Drust woman? What’s the connection other than an address?”
“We don’t know much about her, not yet. Women can make excellent cat burglars when they’re slight and quick. You say she was in the attic?”
Vince looked to Carly for corroboration, and she nodded. “I heard noises in the attic and saw the stair door ajar, so I called Lucas. I was terrified because of my baby and my grandma.”
The baby stirred at his mother’s words, and his blue eyesopened for a moment before he gave a yawn and closed them again. Lucas couldn’t explain his fascination with the baby when he normally would have been oblivious. Maybe because the kid was Eric’s and the little guy was fatherless. Sometimes Lucas had felt fatherless, even though his father hadn’t died until a few years ago.
Carly stood with the baby in her arms. “Is it okay if I put him back in his crib? I want to get the mess cleaned up too.”
Vince stood aside. “Sure. We’re done upstairs.”
When the sound of her footsteps on the stairs faded, Vince clapped his hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “You doing okay, buddy? You’ll need to stay out of this for now.”
Lucas gave a jerky nod and turned away. He might not meddle in the review of the gunfire, but there was no way he could stay out of why the Russian mob would come calling.
Lieutenant Bernard Clark gestured from the entry. “Let’s get to the hospital, Lucas.”
Lucas nodded again and went with him. They’d draw his blood, and he’d have to go to the station to report what had happened. This would be a long night.
Eight
The Russian mafia had invaded her house.
The last two days since the shooting had been stressful. Every cell in Carly’s body wanted to take Gram and Noah far away from the danger lurking. But she couldn’t do that without explainingwhythis had all happened. Right now she had to trust Lucas’s assurances that he’d protect them. And he’d done just that the other night. What if next time he was gone? But maybe the police would catch that Dimitri and there wouldn’t be a next time.
Carly couldn’t wrap her head around the facts as she made up the beds for her sisters, who were due at any time. The fresh scent of the line-dried sheets lingered in the air, making her wish she could climb into bed and pull the sheets over her head. She wasn’t ready to face the day that was coming.
Her sisters’ presence here would only bring more complexity to what was going on. The thought of working so hard to make sure they were happy caused her to exhale and shake her head. She loved them so much, but they were so demanding. They always had been. And maybe it was partly her fault for catering to their every request.
With the beds made, she checked on Noah, who was stillnapping, then went down the stairs to the kitchen. She found Gram baking chocolate chip cookies in a flowing turquoise dress that nearly touched her painted toenails. The aroma made Carly’s mouth water.
“Have a cookie, Carly Ann.”
Carly snagged a warm cookie from the cooling rack, then popped it into her mouth. She licked the chocolate from her fingers and tipped her head. “Was that a car door?”
It was one of her sisters, wasn’t it? She wiped suddenly slick palms on her shorts. If it was the mob again, they wouldn’t announce their arrival by slamming a car door.
Through the screen door, she spotted Amelia getting out of a white Escalade. Nothing but the best for Dillard. He was a commercial real estate investor, and appearances were important to him. Even driving from Jacksonville to Beaufort, he was dressed in a suit and tie. He tipped up his head to study the grand old mansion, and Carly knew he was counting their share of the place when Gram was gone. They might be safer with him here. He was an avid gun collector and always carried a pistol.
Carly pasted on a smile and stepped out onto the porch to welcome them. “You made good time.”
Jacksonville was a three-hour drive. It was only noon, and Carly wished she’d planned for lunch. She’d assumed they wouldn’t get here until early afternoon. There were cold cuts in the fridge and leftovers from last night’s pot roast and tomato pie, but she didn’t think Dillard or Amelia would be impressed with those offerings. Maybe she could suggest they go to a restaurant.
She hugged Amelia, who folded herself into the embrace and gave a quick squeeze before she let go and stepped back quickly. As the middle child, Amelia tried to avoid conflict, but Carly was well aware of how both sisters kept their guard up when they were around. Amelia wanted her independence just as strongly as Emily did, but she’d always been more diplomatic about it. When they were together, she’d smile and hug, but months would go by before they spoke.
“You look good,” Carly said.
She and Amelia shared the same dark brown hair and eyes, but while Carly had hers in a ponytail or messy bun half the time, Amelia changed her hairstyle as frequently as Carly changed Noah’s diapers. At least it seemed that way. Today she had a face-framing bob with little wisps that stuck out in an attractive way. She wore white cropped pants with a red silk shirt and strappy sandals that probably cost more than Carly would spend on ten pairs of shoes.
