Linda Castillo - Cops and…Lovers?

"You didn't know because I didn't know. Regardless, I thought Erin would be safe down there."

Cold realization crept over Nick like freezing rain down the back of his neck. " Erin shot Vic DiCarlo's son."

"That's what we suspect."

"Why did it take the Chicago PD six months to figure it out, for crying out loud?"

"Damon DiCarlo doesn't have a record," Frank said. "He's never even been arrested. So his DNA wasn't in the database. We had to get a warrant and search his apartment. We finally got something from a hairbrush. To extract DNA, we had to find a hair with a damn root attached. That took some time. After the lab typed it, we had to match it with the blood we found at the scene. That's no easy feat."

"Have you picked him up?"

"We would have picked him up weeks ago and found some other way to collect his DNA, but Damon DiCarlo is missing. The feds have had surveillance teams out looking for weeks, but no one has been able to locate him."

"How long has he been missing?"

"Six months."

Nick cursed again. "What about the old man?"

"He's in Sicily where we can't touch him-"

"He's not in Sicily, Frank."

The other man hesitated. "Intelligence tells us he is."

"I'll bet he's in the States. Maybe even here in Logan Falls. He's after Erin, damn you."

"That's not possible."

Nick ground his teeth. "You put Erin and my entire town at risk."

"The Chicago Police doesn't operate on hunches, Nick. I suspected DiCarlo was involved, but I couldn't act until I had proof."

"What about Erin? Did she know?"

"She suspected. It was Danny Perrine's snitch who tipped them off. Erin didn't have any proof."

Anger lashed through Nick like a bullwhip. He'd deal with Erin and her not confiding in him later. Right now, he needed facts. All of them. "Tell me what I need to know, Frank."

"From all appearances, Damon was running heroin," Frank said. "He'd been using since high school. Vic was of the old school. Like most of his Mafia cronies, he didn't approve of drugs-particularly heroin. He probably didn't even know Damon was running his own little show. I suspect Erin shot Damon in the warehouse that night, injuring him or possibly even killing him. Vic DiCarlo found out about it and covered for his son. He didn't want his son's reputation within the Mafia family tarnished, so he picked him up and took him to a doctor. If his son died that night, he may have gone to Italy simply to bury him. We were going to pick up McNeal as soon as we knew the whole story."

"You're too late," Nick said tonelessly. "We've had two incidents here already-"

"If DiCarlo, wanted her dead, she'd already be buried." A wave of fear washed over Nick, mingling with the anger, burgeoning into something volatile and dangerous. He looked down, found his free hand clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles hurt. "I want McNeal protected."

"I can have a U.S. Marshal down there first thing in the morning. We'll transport her to a safe house out of state-"

"Make it two marshals, and they'd damn well better be here before morning." Fear stabbed through the anger like an ice pick through slush when he realized Erin wasn't the only one who was vulnerable. His entire family was at risk. Stephanie. Mrs. Thornsberry. "I want my family protected, too."

"DiCarlo isn't after you or your family, Nick."

"Unlike you, Frank, I'm not willing to take that chance. Just do it. Two marshals for Erin, and two for my family." Without waiting for a reply, Nick slammed down the phone.

He couldn't believe it had come to this-the sludge from Chicago 's underworld leaching all the way down to Logan Falls. Why the hell hadn't Erin confided in him?

The urge to go to her was overwhelming. He had to know she was safe. He had to keep her that way until the marshals arrived. But the need to protect Erin was tempered with the terrifying knowledge that he hadn't been able to keep Rita safe. He hadn't been able to keep Stephanie safe.

Nick stood abruptly, aware that his heart was beating out of control. How was he going to protect her and his family against a Mafia kingpin who had his own private army at his beck and call? Striding to the door, he swung it open and stepped in to the outer office.

Hector looked up from his desk, his brows drawing together. "What's wrong, Chief?"

"I want you to get the cruiser and follow me to my house." Crossing the room, Nick unlocked the gun cabinet and removed the department shotgun, which hadn't been touched since last year, when he'd cleaned it up for the Boy Scout tour. "Take this along, with extra ammunition for your sidearm. Wear your vest."

"My vest?" The other man jumped to his feet, his eyes as big as saucers. "Holy cow, Chief, what's going on?"

"Precautionary measures. I just spoke with Chicago PD. Vic DiCarlo might be paying McNeal a visit for something that happened back in Chicago a few months back."

"Vic DiCarlo?" Hector's mouth dropped open. " The Vic DiCarlo?"

The name sent an icy finger of dread scraping up Nick's spine. "We're going to drive over to my house, then you're going to escort Steph and Mrs. Thornsberry to that physical rehab center in Indianapolis."

" Indianapolis? You mean, like, right now?"

"I mean like five minutes ago," Nick said sharply. "No one's looking for them, Hector. This is only precautionary. But I'd feel better if they weren't here in Logan Falls."

"Yessir! I'm on it, Chief."

"You'll be secure at the rehab center. Em has the address. Two U.S. Marshals will meet you there in a few hours. I'm going to stay here and make sure McNeal gets to a safe house."

Looking excited and uncertain at once, Hector strode to the coat tree and grabbed his hat. "I'll take good care of them, Chief. I'll guard them with my life."

Nick stood in the center of the room feeling gut-punched, praying that wouldn't be necessary.

Erin landed a punishing blow to the punching bag, the force of it vibrating up her arm all the way to her shoulder. She'd long since worked up a sweat. Her temper was beginning to calm, but her muscles felt like overcooked noodles. The bruises she'd received in the car accident weren't helping matters, but she couldn't stop now. Boxing, she'd learned, was the secret of the universe when it came to relieving stress.

Of course, it didn't surprise her that Nick Ryan had shot that theory to pieces.

She hadn't seen or spoken to him since the scene at her apartment the day before. Just as well, she told herself for the dozenth time. He'd had no right to put her on administrative leave. Other than to avoid her, he hadn't had a solid reason for pulling her off the street. He sure didn't have a reason for posting one of his deputies outside her apartment like some kind of bodyguard.

But she knew it was the bit about him avoiding her that bothered her most. It hurt, she realized. Not only because he'd pushed her away just when they'd formed a sort of tentative friendship, but more importantly because of all the other emotions swirling around in that foolish heart of hers. She cared for him-a lot more than was wise or prudent or all those other virtues she'd never gotten the hang of. She cared for him a lot more than a woman like her should, knowing what she did about men like Nick.

The thought made her want to laugh-or cry. She'd fallen headlong for a man who couldn't handle her being a cop. A too strong, too proud, overprotective man who would never tolerate her love of law enforcement. Who would never understand her. Who would always try to control her under the guise of keeping her safe.

A man just like Warren, who'd yanked her young heart out of her chest and torn it into little pieces right before her eyes. Six years ago, she'd stood there like a fool, feeling every rip, and finding herself willing to give up everything just so he would love her. No matter how much it hurt, she wouldn't make the same mistake with Nick.