Page 12 of The P.I.


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Kit knew exactly where Nik’s mind was headed because his had already leapt there. “You think Roman found out about the wedding and came here to stop it.”

Nik met his brother’s eyes steadily. “Could be. The evidence certainly supports that so far. And it could also be that Roman brought some firepower with him. Right now the best theory I’ve got is that Roman argues with Paulo Carlucci in the sacristy, shots are fired and the big guy, the bodyguard, is fatally injured. Paulo runs up to the choir loft to protect his bride. Roman follows. They struggle—more shots are fired. Roman falls or gets shoved down the stairs and the bride and groom get away.”

Kit shook his head. “Roman has a temper. He wouldn’t like the fact that his baby sister was marrying a Carlucci. But he would not come here to stop the wedding with a gun.”

“Maybe not. But right now, he’s the prime suspect. He brought a gun and he used it. I got a witness who heard him involved in an argument, and a fight broke out just before the first shots were fired.”

“What about the man who shot Father Mike?”

“He could have been Roman’s hired accomplice. So could the dead guy in the sacristy. Hell, there could have been more of them. There’s blood on two different walls in that room upstairs. I’m betting the priest and the dead guy aren’t the only ones who got shot.”

Kit’s stomach twisted. He had the mystery woman in his car less than a block away. At the very least, Drew could be a material witness. If that was her purse on the stairs as he suspected, they’d know her name and they’d be looking for her. But he didn’t believe that she had any more to do with the shootings or disappearance of the bride and groom than Roman had. And with amnesia, she’d be very little help as a witness even if he turned her over to Nik.

Which he wasn’t going to do. Not without consulting his client. “What about that purse?” he asked. “It doesn’t belong to Roman.”

“It belongs to Sadie Oliver,” Nik said, his scowl deepening.

Kit said nothing. He didn’t have time to feel relief that the purse didn’t belong to Drew before his stomach took another long tumble. Sadie Oliver had been here? Then Nik voiced the suspicion that had slipped right into his own mind.

“Right now, it looks like Sadie came to help Roman stop the wedding. That’s the way my captain and the commissioner are going to see it. And then she fled the scene of the crime—maybe with the bride and groom.”

“Sadie Oliver called my office about half an hour before you did and left a message.”

Nik’s glance held surprise. “What did she say?”

“She said she needed advice. I was going to call her back, but I got distracted.” Taking out his cell, he punched in the number that Sadie had given him. He looked at Nik as a ringing sound came from the purse. On the third ring, Kit disconnected the call.

“She must have called you from here, probably shortly after all of this went down,” Nik said. “There was more than one call to 9-1-1. Maybe one of them came from Sadie. I’ll check on it.”

“There has to be an explanation,” Kit insisted.

“I hope to God we find it,” Nik murmured.

“Did you get in touch with Theo and let him know about this?”

Nik shook his head. “Theo isn’t picking up his cell. You know how he is when he gets to that cabin. He wants to leave the city and business behind.”

“He’ll want to know about this,” Kit said. “I have a feeling that Roman is going to need the counsel of a good defense attorney. If I have to, I’ll go up there tomorrow and bring him back here. In the meantime, mind if I take a look at that room up there?”

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, I mind. When has that ever stopped you once you set your mind on something?”

“Never.” Kit bit back a smile. A brother knew you better than anyone. Plus, Nik had known Roman almost as long as he had. It hadn’t been by chance that Roman had been transported to St. Jude’s Trauma Center. Kit had a hunch that Nik had given explicit instructions to the EMTs.

With a scowl, Nik dug into his back pocket and brought out a pair of shoe covers. “The room’s at the top of the stairs. Don’t get in the way of my people and don’t touch a thing.”

“Thanks, bro. I’ll be careful.”

Just then, the front door of the church flew open behind Kit and a voice boomed. “There you are, Detective Angelis.”

“Shit,” Nik muttered under his breath. “It’s the commissioner and my captain. There’s a second staircase from the loft that leads to the sacristy. Use it when you leave.”

Kit didn’t have to be told twice.

7

DREW LOOKED THROUGH the window at the spot where Kit had disappeared. Though she’d been staring at that door for several minutes now, she couldn’t find anything familiar about it. There was a part of her that wanted to believe this wasn’t the place, that maybe she’d flagged the taxi on Bellevue near some other church.

“Dreamer,” she muttered. This was the church, all right. She might not recognize it, but from the moment that Kit had parked the car, she’d felt a connection. It had been the same when she’d said the name on her bracelet out loud and she’d felt that flicker of memory that she couldn’t quite bring fully to life. Her name was Drew. She was sure of it. And this church was where she’d gotten the bloodstains on her skirt. This church was where she’d shot someone with that gun.

This was also the church where Kit’s friend had been seriously injured. Drew couldn’t help but worry that Roman Oliver was the man she’d shot. The headache pounding behind her eyes grew more intense.

When she felt her nails digging into the palms of her hands, she concentrated on loosening her grip. Then she made herself take in a deep breath. Panic wasn’t going to help.

In the backseat, Ari made a noise that sounded like a yawn. She glanced down at her watch and saw that Kit had been gone almost ten minutes.

Of course, he’d spent the first four—not that she’d counted—talking to the redheaded and very attractive TV reporter. Drew couldn’t help but notice the way the woman had smiled up at Kit and touched his arm in that intimate way. Though his back had been turned toward her, she’d had no problem picturing his answering smile. The man had killer dimples. No doubt about it. And it had been the attractive reporter who’d walked away. Not Kit. Her conclusion: the reporter and Kit had probably dated.

Probably? For all she knew, the reporter could be dating Kit now. They’d certainly looked like they were friendly enough. They’d probably still be chatting if that limo and squad car hadn’t shown up.

Closing her eyes, Drew took another deep breath. She had a problem here. Over and above the fact that she’d shot a man and she’d lost her memory, she was, clearly, totally obsessed with Kit Angelis. She’d only known him for about thirty minutes when she’d thrown herself at him. She’d initiated that kiss and what had followed. He’d left it up to her and she’d…had sex with him. She’d had wonderful, explosive, mind-numbing, can’t-wait-to-do-it-again sex with a man she’d never met before.

And a few minutes ago when he’d kissed her, just a light, friendly press of his lips to hers was all it had taken to stir up those edgy little needs in her again. It baffled her. It delighted her. He touched, she wanted. It was that simple, that primitive.

And when he came back to the car, she’d want to kiss him again. And more. Worse—she didn’t seem to have any kind of defense against him. Not reason, not logic, not even the niggling worry that she might be some kind of nymphomaniac who wanted to make love to every man she met seemed to help.

Drew made herself look at the crime-scene tape, lights, reporters, uniformed officers and police cars, and reminded herself that she had bigger things to worry about than her irresistible attraction to Kit Angelis.

She had to at least try to get a grip. Besides, even if she wanted to have sex with Kit Angelis again—which she did—he didn’t seem interested in repeating the experience. Ever since the phone message from his brother, he’d had been all business. He’d slipped back into his shoes and a lightweight jacket and he’d slipped his gun into the waistband of his jeans. More than anything else, that one simple action had snapped her back to reality. Not once on the ride to the church had he referred to what had happened between them. For him, making love on the desk in his office had probably been unremarkable.

In the backseat, Ari yawned again.

Drew shot him a look. “Exactly. He’s probably done that kind of thing before. A ‘ho-hum’ experience. On a scale of one to five, maybe a three. After all, the only thing that makes me different from the other women he’s made love to is that I might be wanted for murder.”

She glanced back at the front door of the church. That couldn’t be a turn-on. He was probably even now discovering things about her that would lead to her imminent arrest. The pounding at her temple picked up its rhythm.

In the backseat, Ari put some effort into sitting up. Drew glanced at her watch. Kit had been gone almost fifteen minutes. That couldn’t be good. It had to mean he was learning things.

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