Читать книгу Pregnant Protector - Anne Duquette Marie - Страница 10

Monday evening, east of Escondido

“WE TAKE A RIGHT at the stop sign, then we’re just five minutes from Nelson Kennels,” Lara said to Nick. Then, “Sadie, calm down!” Sadie was standing in back, ears perked and tail thumping against the window. “Yes, we’re going to my parents’.”

Sadie’s tail thumped even harder and she whined with excitement.

“She’s certainly excited,” Nick said, flicking the dog a glance as Lara concentrated again on her driving. The city of Escondido wasn’t beach, but rather a transition area of inland valleys and foothills. Next came the mountains and after that, the desert, but even these foot hills were full of hairpin curves and sharp inclines.

“She knows the way. Hard to mistake this route, even for a dog.”

He nodded. The rugged driving took them around another sharp turn on the narrow two-way road. Pin oaks hung determinedly onto the sides of rocky inclines, while olive trees flourished in the heat and sandy soil. “Nice country, though.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it? Great place to raise kids and dogs. Too bad it’s getting so settled,” Lara said.

“The casinos?” Nick guessed. Ever since the Native American gaming laws had passed, they’d been popping up all over California. San Diego County was no exception, with a dozen operating and even more planned.

“Yeah. Harrah’s, Valley View, Pala—you name ’em. They’re smack dab in the middle of what used to be livestock dairy and poultry country. All this land is a seller’s market.” Lara sighed. Always an animal fan, she hated that the thousands of Jersey cows from her youth were gone. Others, like fruit farmers, horse ranchers and vineyard owners, couldn’t resist swapping hard labor for the money they’d get for the land, which developers would turn into spas and golf courses.

“Your parents aren’t selling?”

“No way. It’s home. Besides, where would they go? There’s no beachfront property left—and even if there was, it’s wall-to-wall people and not zoned for animals. The mountains are too far away from where we do business, and as for the deserts—” Lara shrugged “—too hot for working dogs.”

“There’s plenty of open space left, especially the citrus groves,” Nick observed. They’d finished climbing and were now descending into a valley area. “Looks like some people have kept their land.”

“True. The tourmaline mine’s remained. And the chicken, llama and horse ranches are still operating—the thoroughbred ranches, especially. But so many of the flower growers have moved on—especially with the drought.”

“Progress is a mixed blessing.”

“Tell me about it. Still, if it wasn’t for the booming population, trained security dogs wouldn’t be needed, and my parents wouldn’t be in business. Okay, there’s our sign. We follow this road to the end and we’re there in ten minutes.”

As soon as Lara flicked on her blinker and turned, Sadie, already excited, went into overdrive, squeaking, whining, then full-fledged barking.

“Sorry about that,” Lara sang out. “In case you haven’t guessed, Sadie was born here. Just roll down your window for the noise. That’s what I do.”

Nick rolled down his window, his ears ringing. “Don’t you have a command for quiet?”

“Sure, but let her bark. It’s good for the lungs, and she’ll calm down when we get there.”

Sadie proved Lara right. As soon as Lara pulled up into the private drive opposite the business parking area and unlocked Sadie’s door, the dog stopped whining. However, she ran straight to the double-gated entrance of the chain-link fence where the four family housedogs ran free in the many-acred landscaped family yard.

“Stay outside the gate,” Lara warned Nick. An older German shepherd bitch, Mrs. Nelson’s current pet and Sadie’s dam, along with three other dogs, rushed barking to the fence. Their aggressiveness abated some at seeing Lara, hearing her voice, smelling her scent. The red dachshund and the shepherd bitch continued to growl suspiciously at Nick through the fence, while the more sociable graying black Lab and young white terrier pranced outside the second, pad-key gate separating Lara and Sadie from them on one side, and Nick on the other.

Lara took off Sadie’s special collar/chest shield with her badge on it and hooked it to her own belt. That meant Sadie was officially off duty. Lara opened the gate. “There you go, girl. Break time!”

Sadie bounded inside to eagerly exchange licks and sniffs with her canine family. The other dogs gathered around the police pair, but Nick saw that Lara didn’t take the time for a long hello or enter the open yard. Much to the pack’s disappointment, she closed the gate to the main yard, locked it, then exited again.

“Let’s find my parents,” she said. “The office is this way.”

They didn’t have to look for long. Before they’d even stepped into the building, a couple came out to greet them. Though he’d never seen Lara’s parents, Nick easily recognized Lara’s mother—she was simply an older, taller version of Lara. Sandra was in her mid-sixties and her facial features were lined, but mother and daughter both wore expressions of alertness and intelligence. Character, even more than similar coloring, marked them as related.

The older man was introduced as Lara’s father, Edward Nelson, “Call me Ed.” He had to be at least a decade older than his wife, Nick estimated, but the handshake Lara’s father gave him showed no hint of weakness. He noted Lara had inherited her father’s more angular, stubborn chin.

“We always know when you’re coming. I could hear Sadie whining a mile away!” Mr. Nelson said, hugging his daughter, then noticed her lack of uniform. “Saw your squad car. On duty?”

“Actually, I’m on special duty.”

“Then what brings you here?” Mrs. Nelson asked. The older couple had begun leading the younger couple to the kennel office.

“Trouble,” Lara said.

“Damn,” Ed said at the same time that Sandra lifted her eyebrows, accompanied by a curious, “Really? Brief me.”

“You’re retired,” Ed warned his wife—to no avail.

“I think I’ll let the staff handle the rest of my day,” Sandra said. “I wouldn’t want to miss a visit with my youngest. Ed, please tell the others,” she ordered with the easy authority of a woman used to command. “We’ll all meet at the house.”

A SHORT WHILE LATER the four sat in the comfortable living room—informal save for the many photographs, awards, ribbons and official commendations on the shelves and fireplace mantel. At Ed’s invitation, Nick studied the photographs while waiting for mother and daughter to emerge from the kitchen.

“You’ve got quite a family here,” Nick said.

“That I do. Here’s my first dog.” Ed pointed.

A much younger Edward Nelson in military uniform stood proudly beside a military bomb-sniffing dog in a jungle setting.

“Vietnam?” Nick guessed.

“Yes. I smuggled my partner back here,” Ed said. “They destroyed canines in the old days, but I had a buddy who owed me. My dog and I came home together. I’ve been working with dogs since.” He gestured to another photo. “Here’s my wife.”

Sandra Nelson’s photo showed her in her younger days, as well, in police uniform with her first K-9 officer, yet another German shepherd.

“And Kate, the eldest.” Ed indicated a photo with a woman in uniform with her explosives canine. Then, “Lindsey, my middle daughter.” Her picture showed her standing in a ranger’s search-and-rescue uniform, her newest shepherd posed beside her new husband and his own dog. “And here’s Lara.”

Lara’s photo also showed her in uniform, with Sadie beside her.

“Impressive,” Nick said. “The world needs more families like this.”

“I understand you come from a law-enforcement family yourself.”

“More administrative, and only my aunt Magda. She worked as a clerk typist back in the days before computers. That was a long time ago.”

Nick felt a sudden surge of loneliness. Julio was gone, his wife and children were in Mexico. The aunt who’d raised Nick—she’d left Italy with Nick for “a better life” in California and even changed her surname Palameri to Palmer once she’d settled—was dead.

Nick’s grandparents and parents still lived in Italy, along with his three older siblings. His mother, Mara, had been ill after Nick was born and had asked her younger sister to care for Nick. Magda had never married. Although he and Magda had kept in touch with their Italian relatives, Nick had never been close to any of them.

Even as a boy, there was an emotional gulf and a stretch of ocean between them and him. Obviously the Nelson children didn’t have that problem with their elders. The many photos on the wall showed the daughters’ respect for family and pride in their work. They also showed a great deal of courage. The older couple had dedicated their lives to the public. Now the three daughters were doing likewise.

His thoughts were interrupted by the women’s reentrance with drinks—coffee and soda—trailed by the family pack and Sadie. Dogs and people found places in the living room, and Lara and Nick in turn related the events of Julio’s case, ending with the attack on the Mercedes. The expressions on the faces of Lara’s parents were solemn when Lara said, “We need a safe base of operations. Can we stay here?”

Sandra flicked her husband a quick look and received an affirming nod. “We’ll do all we can to help,” she said. “You’ll need your sleep. Gotta keep those reflexes sharp.”

“And you’ll have separate rooms,” Ed added, his gaze on Nick. “Even the Secret Service doesn’t sleep in the president’s bed.”

Lara flushed pink. “Dad!”

Sandra rose to her feet. “Ed, why don’t you go back to the office while I get some sheets for the guest room?” she suggested with a hard stare at her husband. Various dogs followed the couple either to the back door leading outside or down the hall to the linen closet.

Lara didn’t say anything until they were out of ear-shot. “Forgive my father. He’s a very traditional man.”

“It’s his house, and I wasn’t offended.”

Lara excused her father’s behavior, anyway. “Dad was shocked when I moved in with my boyfriend—we didn’t get engaged until later. I don’t casually hop into bed with anyone, and certainly not under my father’s roof,” she said with a frankness Nick appreciated.

His gaze swung again to the photos on the walls. “Perhaps he’d have accepted sons in high-risk jobs more easily than daughters.”

Lara ran her hand through her short blond curls. “I doubt it. Dad always wanted his children, no matter the sex, to have safe jobs. He keeps reminding me how lucky he and Mom were to make it to retirement unscathed. He didn’t scare any of us off, though. In fact, just the opposite. That’s why Jim—my fiancé—and I didn’t wait. No long courtship, no waiting until after the marriage to move in together.”

Nick tactfully said nothing.

“Anyway, don’t worry about my father. He knows I’m here to protect you. That’s enough.” She rose, followed by Sadie and the dachshund. “Come on, I’ll show you the guest room. You can freshen up. Take your time.”

“I will,” Nick replied. “I need to make a few calls.”

“Don’t plan on using the house line,” Lara said immediately.

“But—”

“They’re much easier to trace than cell phones.”

“Right.” Nick shook himself mentally, embarrassed. He’d planned on trying Mexico again from a conventional line, hoping he’d have better luck than earlier.

“Who did you want to call? Your partner’s wife?”

“I haven’t been able to reach Lilia,” he admitted. “And I want to check in with headquarters, too.”

“Ah. Use your cell,” she repeated.

“Got it.” If he didn’t connect on the first call, he knew he’d have no trouble with the second. That call would be to Internal Affairs.

LARA LET NICK UNPACK and settle in as she placed the fresh sheets on the bed. When she finished, she took a chair in the room and absently scratched the ears of the dachshund she now held in her lap. Sadie wandered in, followed by her dam, Shady Lady—aptly named, as she was mostly black as opposed to Sadie’s dominant tan. Nick hung his suit bag in the closet. He was finished, as well.

“You hungry? We missed lunch, thanks to our shooter.”

“I don’t want to put your parents out.”

Lara grinned. “You won’t. I make a mean sandwich.” She set the dachshund back on the floor. “Kitchen’s this way.”

In the kitchen she seated Nick at the small wooden table and opened the bread box. “You want rye or white br—”

Nick’s cell rang.

“I don’t know who that is, but don’t tell anyone where we are,” Lara warned. “It’s an easy guess, but there’s no need to confirm.”

Nick’s sideways glance showed he didn’t need the warning. “Rye.” The phone call took him completely by surprise, and Lara intently listened to the one-sided conversation.

“Well?” she asked when he clicked off his cell.

“That was Homeland Security.”

“And?”

“It’s confirmed. The bullets used against your car were 25 mm. They would have penetrated an ordinary car.”

“But we know my car isn’t ordinary. You want sliced ham or roast…what?”

“Homeland Security says the bullets that hit Julio came from the same gun, but they weren’t light rounds.”

“We knew that, too. Ham or roast beef?” she repeated.

“Julio’s slug was made with DU.”

Lara’s lips actually parted in shock. “Not…depleted uranium?”

Depleted uranium was a by-product of leftover natural uranium after U-235 was extracted to fuel nuclear weapons and power plants. Common in the United States, the leftover uranium was weakly radioactive, but still had its uses. It remained a deadly tank-piercing heavy metal that made guns loaded with lead bullets look like popguns. Any “heavy” ammunition or artillery was strictly regulated and controlled by the Federal government. “Light” ammunition, such as that used by police or civilians, remained under local control.

“Why didn’t Girard tell us before?” Lara demanded.

“Because everyone at the station assumed the extensive damage to the car body resulted from the crash and the rocky bottom. Hell, I’ve never seen a DU bullet hole in person. Homeland Security has, and they checked for radioactivity.”

“My God! That stuff’s military only. Hasn’t the United Nations classified it as a Weapon of Mass Destruction?” Lara asked, horrified. “The radioactivity and heavy-metal toxicity threatens the environment!”

“True, but a single DU bullet could take out a whole armored personnel carrier filled with enemy troops. That’s why we still use them.”

“No wonder I…” No wonder she nearly lost her breakfast after viewing the skimpy remains of Julio Valdez. “Nothing. Go on.”

“So does Great Britain,” Nick said. “Homeland Security said our military prefers 25, 105, and 120 mm rounds.”

“And now someone’s shooting them here in San Diego?”

“So they say. Homeland Security also said they’ll be handling further ballistics investigation and other aspects, as well.”

Lara rubbed her forehead “But…I’m confused. I thought another law-enforcement member targeted Julio. He went to buy groceries, you said. Is our shooter a cop or terrorist? We weren’t shot at with DU. Julio was.”

“Homeland Security will handle it. They’re better equipped. Even if they weren’t, I’m not leaning toward the terrorist angle,” Nick said. “Internal Affairs finished checking out Julio’s computer.”

“Internal Affairs?”

“Yes, I just talked to them. I know Julio was writing a speech for the next department retirement dinner. IA said there was no file on the hard drive. I doubt a terrorist would delete a retirement speech, DU ammo or not.”

“A speech?” Lara echoed. “Why your partner?”

Nick’s lips thinned into a hard line. “English or Spanish, Julio wrote the best damn reports in the department. He was always writing something for the bosses.”

“If he had to write a testimonial, he would have had to research the subjects. If he did—he might have found something he shouldn’t. Who’s retiring?”

Nick frowned. “Girard, Lansky and Knox. All from Homicide.”

“Girard and Lansky I know. Who’s Knox?”

“Sergeant Richard Knox. His son, T.J., works in Homicide, too. But the sergeant isn’t the one I want to talk to right now.” Nick pulled out his cell phone. The dachshund and Sadie watched from their spots on the cool tile as Nick dialed Girard’s direct number.

“Girard here.”

“Hey, Captain. It’s Cantello.”

“What’s up, Nick?”

“Thought I’d check in with you. Any news?”

“Nothing yet at this end, though I did get a call from Homeland Security ballistics.”

“Same here.” A beat, then Nick asked in a bland voice, “Did Julio finish his retirement speech?”

Silence. “If he did, he didn’t keep it on the computer.”

“I know for a fact he did. Someone wiped it.”

“I’ll tell Internal Affairs.”

“I already did.”

“How’s your new bodyguard doing?” Girard asked.

Nick couldn’t help but notice the abrupt change of subject. “She’s kept me alive so far. Do me a favor, Captain. Have ballistics call me when they’re done picking apart Nelson’s Mercedes.”

“Planned on it. So, you think she’s gonna be any help in solving this murder?”

A chill streaked down Nick’s spine. It was his warning system, and had saved his life more than once. “She’s a good worker,” he said in a deliberately casual voice. “But she’s not a detective.”

Girard sounded reassured. “Where are you staying?”

“Wherever Ms. Nelson stashes me. After this morning, she and I will be keeping a close eye on each other.” Nick smiled, but it wasn’t from pleasure. “Pass the word around, would you?”

“Of course. Keep in touch.”

“Of course,” he echoed. Nick set down the cell.

“What are you smiling about?” Lara asked.

“Looks like we may have a starting point, after all. Three retiring men. First thing in the morning, we’ll see if any of them served in the military.” Nick pushed aside his cell phone. “Make it a ham on rye. Please.”