Merchants with Evil Intent (4 page)

      
“Dec, I’m sorry. I’m trying to help you.”

      
Damn
the fecking PhD that she received a few years ago. Just because she’s licensed
to practice psychology didn’t mean she could practice on him.

      
He clenched his jaw.
“Not
here, Coll and not now.”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Viktor tried calling several times when
she drove home
causingher
to mute her phone.

      
She pulled into the driveway, her uncle
arriving behind her.

      
They entered the flat and he casually looked
around. He chuckled to himself. She had an eye for décor like her mom. Camryn
kicked off her sandals and padded across the hardwood floor into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” she asked.

      
“Irish coffee?”

      
He sat at the white kitchen table
watching her movement. “Cam, tell me what’s wrong.”

      
She worried her bottom lip while she
prepared the coffee. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?”

      
John chuckled. “You’re chewing your
bottom lip and you’re babbling. Both very good clues something has you upset.”

      
She placed mugs on the table and as an
afterthought, grabbed the Irish whiskey and sat the bottle between the mugs.

      
“Cam, darlin’ tell me what’s troubling
you,” John said softly.

      
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not
sure. It could be nothing.”

      
“Let me be the judge of that.”

      
“Viktor received a phone call tonight and
he walked away to talk. It felt as though he was hiding something from me. So,
I snuck up and heard him say ‘You can’t have her. If you touch her I’ll find
you. Then he spoke something in Russian. Sounded like ‘geeb noots’. His tone
frightened me.”

      
John leaned closer with raised eyebrows.
“Who was he talking about?”

      
“My first thought was me,” she whispered
as she tried to rub away the goose bumps.

      
“You?” he growled.

      
She pushed her hair behind her ears and
rubbed her temples. “I could be completely wrong.”

      
He tried to compose himself, but when it
came to Camryn and her safety, composure was at the bottom of his list. “Let’s
ponder this for a moment, shall we?”

      
She raised a skeptical eyebrow to him.
“I’m listening.”

      
“Wasn’t he supposed to join you after his
friends arrived?”

      
“Well, yeah. But he picked up another
woman,” she replied bitterly.

      
John grinned and leaned back into his chair
putting his hands behind his head. “Well, well.”

      
“Maybe you were right about him. Quit
gloating,” she snipped. She stood abruptly and retrieved the coffee pot. She
filled both mugs and put more than a splash of whiskey into her mug.

      
“I’m only gloating a little,” John
muttered as he poured a healthy dose of whiskey into his mug.

      
“It doesn’t matter,” she shrugged.

      
“Was the woman a friend of his?”

      
“Perhaps.
He
has
been trying to call me since we left
the park. There’s something else, too.” She relayed the events of the Frisbee
nearly hitting her and Viktor’s reaction. “He looked menacing.”

      
John shrugged. “He was protective of
you.”

      
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re defending
him now?”

      
Camryn rose when she heard knocking at
the front door. John held out his hand to stop her. “I’m not defending him. You
stay here.”

      
She heard the door open and then Viktor’s
voice. “I want to speak with Camryn, John.”

      
“I’m not sure she wants to see you,” John
replied happily.

      
“Uncle John, let him enter.”

      
John stepped away and waved his hand with
disgust.

      
“I’ve been trying to call you! I was
worried something happened,” Viktor grumbled, hugging her.

      
She didn’t return the hug, causing him to
pull away. His face filled with confusion and hurt.
“Cam?
Did I do something to upset you?”

      
John roared, “Hell yes you did. You…”

      
“You, you left and missed the concert,”
Camryn interjected while shooting her uncle a glare.

      
Viktor dropped his chin to his chest and
sighed. “I got called into work. I’m sorry.” He brought her hand to his lips.

      
He looked sincere, but then again, so did
the serial killer she interviewed last year.

      
“It’s a good thing I was there. Nowadays
a woman can’t be out alone in the streets with that murdering bastard running
loose,” John grumbled.

      
Viktor snapped his head towards John.
“He’s not a murderer!”

      
John crossed his arms over his chest. “Is
that a fact?”

      
“No bodies have turned up,” Viktor
sneered.

      
“Not yet. Cam tells me you’re working the
case.
Any new leads on this creep?”

      
Viktor’s jaw locked. “I can’t discuss the
case with you and you know that. It’s not your business anymore.”

      
John stepped closer to Viktor and jabbed
his chest with an index finger. “Yes, but Camryn
is
my business. You left my girl alone, at night, with a predator
walking the streets…”

      
“She wasn’t
alone
,” Viktor countered.

      
“What if I wasn’t there? I suppose the
Irish gentleman would’ve offered her aide, if needed.”

      
“Okay, you two.
Stop!”
Camryn raised her hands, exasperated. “Uncle John thanks for following me home.
Viktor, thanks for checking on me. It’s been a long day.”

      
Viktor nodded in trepidation and grabbed
a notebook lying by her computer. She hastily snatched it from his hand. “What
are you doing?” she snipped.

      
He drew a deep breath. “I only want to write
my home number. So you can reach me-in case something happens.”

      
John wrapped his arm around Camryn’s
shoulders. “If anything happens, she’ll call her family.”

      
Viktor shot John an annoyed glance as he
held out his hand for the notebook. Camryn glanced back and forth between the
two angry men, releasing a frustrated sigh. She found a clean sheet in the
notebook and handed it to him.

      
“Jeez, Camryn, is this your diary?” he
muttered.

      
A slight blush stained her cheeks. “My
user names and passwords for e-mail are in there,” she shrugged.

      
Viktor scribbled his phone number and
handed the notebook back to her, smiling. “I’m glad my number’s in a safe
place.”

      
John tersely replied, “
Goodnight
Orlov.”

      
Viktor’s teeth clenched as he bent and
kissed Camryn. She shuddered but he ignored it. He strode to the front door.
“Make sure your windows and doors are locked securely,” he replied, closing the
door behind him.

      
“I hate to say this, but he’s right. I’m
going to check the window locks. Is that thirty-eight of yours readily
available?” John asked over his shoulder.

      
She nodded, “I keep it in my night stand
fully loaded.”

      
John returned to the kitchen. “I’ve
checked the windows and the back door. The window in your bedroom was unlocked.
I hope that’s an exception and not the rule.”

      
Her eyebrows knitted together. “I coulda
swore I locked it before I left today.”

      
“You could always stay with me if you’d
be more comfortable,” he offered.

      
She hugged him tight. “Thanks, but I’ll
be fine.”

      
He kissed her forehead, laughing. “Of
course you will. You learned to shoot from the best!”

      
She walked him to the front door and
locked it with the deadbolt and chain after he left.

      
She hurriedly washed her face and brushed
her teeth after changing into shorts and a t-shirt.

      
She fell asleep thinking the song Tupelo
Honey would never be the same.

*
     
*
     
*

      
With the boys tucked in bed Colleen found
Declan standing in the kitchen looking out the window with a glass in his hand.
She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He released a
heavy sigh and took another gulp. Irish whiskey went smoothly down his throat.

      
“When does your husband get off work?” he
asked.

      
She pulled away from him, grabbed his
glass and took a sip. “Not until the morning.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Working the emergency room has iffy hours.”

      
“You’re happy, though, aye?” he asked.

      
“Very happy.
I
wish he was home more. The damn guy stole my heart the minute our eyes met.”

      
Declan slowly smiled. “Let’s get this
done.” He motioned towards the study. If he was to bear his soul he’d be
comfortable doing so.

      
Colleen grabbed the bottle of whiskey and
followed him, taking a deep breath, unsure of the outcome. She also brought a
box of tissue. Those were for her. She’d never seen Declan cry, not even when
Da died unexpectedly.

      
Weary, he sat in a leather recliner that
faced a big screen telly and took another swig from his glass.

      
Colleen sat opposite of him. She opened
the bottle and held out her hand for his glass. He gladly handed it to her. He needed
to be bulloxed to tell his tale.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Viktor drove home lost in his thoughts.
John wasn’t keen on him. Maybe a talk would help matters. He wanted John to
know he was serious about Camryn. Hell, he’d do anything for her.

      
He was smitten the first time he saw her,
when she came into the shooting range. He laughed with Mark, his partner, as
they watched her put on earmuffs. When John handed her a forty-five they fell
over themselves. A petite woman couldn’t handle a gun that powerful. With the
target in place, he overheard John encourage her. She assumed the stance, aimed
and fired.

      
Afterwards, she smugly placed the gun on
the ledge after she emptied it. John pressed the button to bring the silhouette
to the front.

      
She stayed within the outline, hitting
the head, chest, both knees and hands and most notably, the groin twice.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“Don’t you be thinkin’ you’re getting’
out of anythin’, Declan Corrigan! I’m a wee bit bulloxed, but no’ enough I
canno’ listen,” she scolded.

      
 
“Where do I begin?” he asked resignedly.

      
Colleen sat up straighter. “The day you
got shot.”

      
He closed his eyes. “Teaghan and I met at
the park. I wanted to be on neutral ground. I didna feel any chemistry with
her. Undoubtedly a beautiful lass and I enjoyed spending time with her, but no’
as much as she enjoyed me company,” he shrugged. “She began talkin’ marriage
and babies. I’m no’ opposed to either, mind you. I was opposed to those things
with her.”

      
He didna feel any better saying the words
out loud, as he thought he might. He felt worse. She loved him and he didna
reciprocate the emotion.

      
“Go on,” Colleen encouraged.

      
He took a swig of whiskey and rubbed his
eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Christ, this wasna easy. “I told her she
deserved someone better than me; a man who’d love her properly. She began to
cry, but I wasna able to show any emotion. It pained me, no doubt aboot that.
To her I must’ve seemed a cold heartless bastard.