Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) (6 page)

“
W
hat are we going after
? Same thing as Draik?”

“One of the big mucky-mucks in town has one of our girls,” Xavier muttered, turning left onto North Orchard Street. Off Curragh’s questioning glance, he explained, “The ones we found in the cages. Being sold for marriage. Probably to men who can’t get a woman to look at them unless they’re paid.”

Immediately Curragh knew. “He’ll lead us to Viktor.”

“That’s the dream. The cops have a surveillance team headed there. We have to beat them.” He shoved the gas pedal down harder, pushing the Camaro to twice the legal limit. Curragh had no objection. “We’ll grab him and bring him with us. Where the fuck is Draik?”

Curragh pulled out his phone and got Draik’s voicemail again. “He’s not answering.”

“He’s probably balls deep in some stripper.” It would have been funny if it weren’t true.

“He needs to grow up,” Curragh watched the city fly by as he added, “We’re trying to do something here.” Suddenly a loud crack sounded off and the car violently jerked.

“A flat tire. Shit!” Xavier pulled over and cursed some more as both wolves threw open their doors and leapt out. They stared into the trunk at the spare.

“It’s pathetic,” Curragh grunted at the puny tire.

“They want you buying new ones. This is just to get you—”

“—I know. I know.”

Ten minutes later they were on the road again, but then Xavier took a left when he should have taken a right. He wouldn’t look at the map. “I know where it is.”

After driving in the wrong direction awhile, Curragh pulled out his phone. “What the address dipshit?”

By the time they drove past Bill Tutors’ mansion, they saw a dry-cleaning van already parked a couple doors down.

“Do they have to be so fucking obvious?” Xavier muttered.

Curragh jerked his chin to the left. “And there’s a black sedan with a couple of suits hidden under that Shingle Oak.”

“Okay, so we go in through the back.”

Curragh threw him a smirk. “How many front doors have we knocked on?”

“That sounds sexual,” Xavier chuckled. Curragh laughed as they drove out of view of the police.

Abandoning their wheels two blocks away, they jumped fences of back yards, using their enhanced hearing and sense of smell to guide them in knowing which were empty of witnesses. At this hour of day, most people were at work, but one house had a gardener pruning the backyard. Over the fence, Curragh aimed and chucked a rock at the guy’s head. He was a dead aim—knocked him out.

Xavier checked on the man. “He’s fine.”

Heading for the next fence, Curragh said, “I know. I can hear his pulse. Can’t you?”

“Shut it.”

They moved on. Jumping over the fence of Bill Tutors mansion, they moved like the hunters they were, slipping between the windows without being seen. The back of the house was empty, but when they got to further up, Curragh froze at what he saw. Inside the enormous sitting room sat two couches across from each other, an ornate coffee table between them. On one, with their profiles to the window was Bill Tutors and his new bride, dressed up like a socialite. Despite the age they knew her to be, she came across as early twenties, dressed like that. The pearls especially said she was not a teen. Across from them, her body angled more toward the window was Kara, wearing a charming smile and a green dress. She had a homemade pie on her lap. “What the hell?” he muttered. Her large brown eyes drifted over to the window. Her smile didn’t waver as she quickly glanced back to the owner of the house as though she’d seen nothing unusual. Curragh couldn’t move. Xavier grabbed his arm and dragged him out of view.

“Sorry.” He was struggling to gather his wits.

Xavier whispered, “Okay,” trying to understand. “If she was at the morgue, and she’s here now. It was probably
her
shooting up the lock when we had the Russian. It was a female cop, remember?”

Curragh’s brain did somersaults as he nodded, his body numb. His wolf was on fire, and not because of any carnal cravings. He was scratching to get out and protect her. He sensed danger.

On high alert, Curragh tuned in to the conversation inside.

K
ara’s heart
rocked so loudly in her ears she couldn’t hear what was being said. She blinked, her smile stuck as she forced herself to stop wondering what the hell Curragh and his friend were doing in the backyard. She knew that from their stances, and from the looks on their faces, they were sneaking. But why? Immediately she remembered running into them at the morgue.

Oh my God. Is he working with Kruglov?

Her stomach flipped over and died. Then she heard Bill Tutors ask, “You alright, Mrs. Phillips?”

Her smile freshened up as she looked at the man whose childhood acne had left marks reminiscent of fallen meteor holes. It was well known that he was fifty-one, but the receding hairline had been there since he was twenty. He was however, dressed damned well. At least he had taste.

Kara feigned embarrassment. “Oh, sorry. I just realized I forgot to email the pics of Levi’s classmates to the other mothers, from the soccer match. Never mind though. I’ll get to it when I get back home. It just hit me in the head—that ever happened to you? A memory just hits you?” She smacked her head with a comical rolling of her eyes. She was laying this character on thick, but not in an unbelievable way.

“With all the companies I run? It’s hard to remember it’s Tuesday.”

“It’s Thursday,” Kara said with a laugh.

He grinned at her, but his eyes were keenly watching. “Exactly. See what I mean?”

From the moment she’d knocked on the door until now, sitting on this ten-thousand-dollar sofa, Kara hadn’t heard Bill’s bride say one word. Very pretty, with almond-shaped blue eyes and long ash-blonde hair, she nodded a lot, and smiled shyly behind a veil of fear.

“So my man tells me you made the pie yourself.”

“I did!” Kara leaned forward like it was the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced in her simple little life. “But why he put it through that metal detector, I’ll never know!”

Bill smiled, “Oh, that’s just a formality,” leaning back and throwing an arm around his bride. “What I don’t understand is, where you live. I thought I knew all my neighbors.”

“Jim and I just moved in a month ago. I’ve been spending the last four whole weeks trying to fit in, and get Levi new friends. So many wonderful people but you just never know!”

“No, you never do. And where did you move from?”

Kara paused. She hadn’t thought about that, and was kicking herself as she threw out the first thing that came to her mind. “North Dakota.”

Ever watchful, he nodded and smiled. “No accent.”

“I’m from Mi…Montana originally.” Curragh had poked his head out and distracted her. He vanished again. “The lower part. Never really got an accent. So how long have you two been married?” She’d addressed the question to the young beauty, and smiled at her, waiting for only her to answer.

Bill Tutors cut in, instead. “One month ago. I’m a lucky man.” He kissed the girl’s hand and patted it, laying it on his thigh. He met the fake Ms. Phillips’ eyes with a challenge.

And that’s when Kara realized it. He knew. He knew everything! That the girl was too young. That Kara wasn’t really Mrs. Phillips. He was probably trying to figure out who she worked for. The cops or Kruglov. “You are!” Goosebumps slid down her spine and she stiffened. “Very lucky.”

In the window behind Bill Tutors’ shoulder Curragh appeared. Kara caught him in her periphery and used the action of moving her hair out of her face to glance over and see what he was doing. His eyes locked with hers. There was a warning in them. He wanted her to know she was in trouble. Not from him.
He’s not working for Kruglov? Or is he?
She had no idea. But now she had nothing left to lose, and all the reason to believe him that she was in danger.

With everyone in the van listening, Kara asked point blank, “So, why would a man who has done so much for the city, marry a child sold on the black market?” His cunning smile vanished. Kara leaned forward. “Paying for the privilege? Or was this Kruglov’s gift for something you did for him?”

“Who are you?” Tutors demanded with a voice like ice. He dropped the girl’s hand.

“Chicago P.D. you piece of shit.”

The back window exploded as Curragh and Xavier crashed through. From the other direction behind her, came three bodyguards brandishing rifles. Kara threw the pie at one of them, splattering him in the face and blinding him, momentarily. Weaponless, she leapt over the coffee table onto the girl and screamed into her wire, “Backup! Backup!” Bill leapt up and ran from the room as Curragh and his friend knocked the guns out of the other two bodyguard’s hands, then turned the weapons on the new arrivals who ran, also armed, into the room. Curragh and Xavier shot them dead. Kara gaped at them.

“Get the girl outta here!” Curragh shouted at her, throwing one of the guns over. She caught it and pulled the teenage girl off the couch, running for the broken window. Around a corner came another bodyguard. The Russian girl screamed. Kara aimed and fired with quick precision. She didn’t stick around to watch him fall to the floor.

“Come on! What am I saying, you can’t understand me!” She yanked the girl over the broken glass, their shoes crunching loudly. Muffled banging and shouting came from the front door. Her fellow officers were trying to get in. Kara could only imagine what they’d think when they found two giant men throwing Tutors’ bodyguards around like rag dolls.

But Kara couldn’t let that distract her. Her responsibility was to get this girl to safety. The two females dashed down the side yard for the street while Kara shouted into her wire, “We need more backup. I don’t know how many men he has in here. And you guys in the van, get over here and grab this girl!”

I
mmediately over the fence ahead
, she heard screeching tires as the van sped to the house. Kara’s adrenaline was on fire. The gate was locked. She shot it open, and came out slowly with her gun aimed and ready for anything. The van waited ahead, backed up to the curb. It opened and they looked around, then waved to her that it was safe to come over. Kara looked to the front door as they made their way across the grass. It was wide open, that lock shot to pieces, too. She rushed the girl to safety, told her team, “I’m going in to help,” and slammed the door shut to the van.

She approached the front door, weapon up, finger on the trigger.

There were bodies everywhere, most of them dead. She heard a man screaming from upstairs and knew it was Bill Tutors. She ascended the stairs, keeping watch behind and ahead of her at all times. When she got to the second level, she found both detectives on the ground. Her breath caught in her throat as she leaned down and checked their pulses, first Lewis, then Connors. With her fingers pressed against warm skin, she closed her eyes for a brief moment of relief.

“Dear God, WHAT ARE YOU?!!!!” Bill Tutors screamed.

Kara’s head shot up and she headed for the bedroom. It was at the far end of the landing. As she neared the open door, her lips parted. The millionaire was tied to a chair with his own belts, knotted together so well that Houdini would have loved the challenge. The room smelled of human feces and urine. Bill Tutors had lost control of his bladder and bowels. He stared up at the men who stood before him, their backs to Kara. On her entrance, Xavier turned first. “He’ll give you what you want to know now.” He leaned in close to the millionaires’ ear. “Tell the lady everything.”

“She was mine! She was mine!” the man whined.

Curragh punched him. Hard but not so hard the man lost consciousness. “Tell her!”

“She was a gift from Viktor! He’s been using my companies to launder money!”

Kara talked to her wire. “You hear that?”

Curragh followed his friend out, and as he passed, he closed his eyes. She stared from him to the tied up Tutors, not knowing what to think. The man was still blabbering, tears staining his bumpy cheeks. “Monsters! They’re monsters! Fangs! Their eyes glowed!” Then he crumbled completely. “Viktor…Oh no. I’m dead. I’m a dead man.”

“Shut up!” Curragh ran in and punched the guy in the head so hard he lost consciousness.

Kara reached over the top of her dress, screamed like she was being attacked, and ripped the wire apart. She didn’t need any witnesses for this. These men had just gotten a confession out of a man so intelligent he’d probably never have confessed otherwise. He would’ve found a way out, especially with all the money he had at his disposal. She even felt a little jealous.

“Wait!” she cried out, grabbing his arm. Xavier appeared in the doorway, drawing her focus. From one to the other, her eyes darted as she formulated a plan. “Punch me!”

“What?” Xavier’s dark eyebrows were drawn tightly together. Curragh just stared at her. He did that a lot.

“It’s the only way I can cover for you and explain why I’m not taking you in.”

His friend came over, but Curragh stopped him. “Don’t touch her!” With haunted eyes he stepped closer and lifted her face up by the chin. “I’ll do it.” It happened so fast she didn’t see it coming. But she sure as hell felt it. He looked grim as she held onto her bloodied nose. “You’re going to have to lie down to make this believable.” There was a kindness in his tone that was new. She nodded and slipped down to the floor as sirens sounded in the distance. He told her, “Close your eyes.”

She hesitated, then did as he asked. Lying there in the horrible smell, she listened to them leave. The millionaire’s insane ramblings echoed in her mind.
They’re monsters. Fangs! Their eyes glowed
! She remembered Curragh passing her and closing his eyes as he did. Was he hiding a glow? It was impossible, but why couldn’t she let it go? Then she remembered all the easy cases in New York, where bad people confessed to crimes and said the exact same thing. Monsters. Glowing eyes.

She shook it off and waited for the police to come. She didn’t believe in fairy tales. Life had taught her there were no happy endings, and no monsters either, save for men like Kruglov and Tutors.

Minutes later, two detectives from the task force, Rodriguez and Slater, were leaning down to wake her and see if she was okay. Others filed into the room, some in uniform. They’d been in the area when they got the call. She pretended to come to, faking confusion.

“What happened?” Rodriguez asked.

“I…uh…” Kara grabbed her cheek, then her nose, and stood up. Her adrenaline was through the roof, lying to him. She didn’t lie to her own. But on the outside she appeared drowsy, regaining her composure as quick as she could to tell them, “Uh, two of his bodyguards. They went rogue. I guess they didn’t like what he’d done. Maybe one of them has a sister. Who knows. But after they got a confession, they made sure I couldn’t arrest them. Ouch. How bad is it?”

Slater made a face and swatted her shoulder, an unusual show of camaraderie. “Spreading by the second.”

“Great,” she muttered. “Oh, well. It’s not like I have much of a dating life with this job.”

The two detectives chuckled. Rodriguez said, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Okay, everyone,” Monaghan called out. “Secure the crime scene. That means this entire mansion. We need a coroner for the dead bodies. You know the drill. Don’t touch them! Only the coroner has the jurisdiction. This case is too important to have some technicality get this man off. And photos of everything. before the EMTs get here and muck this whole thing up. I mean everything.” She looked over to where a couple officers were beside Bill. “Cut those belts. But don’t untie them. That’s all evidence.”

Rodriguez called out, “Don’t search anything until we get that warrant! Hold off.” Nods all around.

Another officer of lower rank walked up and handed her a phone. “It’s the Captain.”

“Thanks.” She nodded to the three men and stepped away to talk in private while camera flashes lit the room with the speed of strobe lights in a nightclub.

“Monaghan. What happened.”

“Sorry Captain. Tutors wasn’t the saint we hoped he’d be.”

“I heard. Well, the bad news is good news. We just got our first big break. Nice work. I’ve already put a call in to Superior Court Judge Wasserstein. He gave me a telephone warrant. You’re good to go. I want everything searched. It’s going to be a long day.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s heading back to the precinct now. We’ll reunite her with her sister, then have the interpreter find out what he can.”

“You want to know if she learned anything while she was here” Kara watched as officers from the crime lab shot pictures of the knots Curragh and Xavier had made. When they were done, they carefully cut the belts off the unconscious millionaire and lowered him to the floor.

Slater shouted, “Did you take photos of the blood spattering around him, the footprints?!” They nodded. “Carry on then.”

Kara focused back on her phone call. “Find out if anyone paid Tutors a visit.”

“You think Kruglov has been there?”

“I doubt it. But who knows.”

“Good thinking. He’s unpredictable. He may have.” Irritation grated through Mazzagatti’s voice. “Who knows how close they were.”

She watched Bill Tutors’ open swollen eyes, and thought of her unlikely allies. “I’m going to find him. I don’t know how yet, but I will.”

Then she realized she didn’t know how to find Curragh. Not his last name. Address. Where he worked, hung out. He didn’t know
her
last name either, but he knew what she did and that her precinct was in this district.

But will he find me?

Turning around, she called out, “Okay, gentlemen. Go through all the rooms. Pay special attention to his office. Check the desk for hidden compartments. Check cupboards for the same. Hutches, dressers. Anything that could hold a secret hidey-hole. The floors. Behind paintings for safes. The Captain wants a complete sweep.” Nods all around as the search began.