“Mr. Casey.”
He turned back to Peter atthe sound of his name.
“My daughter is gettingreleased from the hospital today. She needs someone to go and gether—preferably you. She will not see me now.” His eyes went to hismen. “Or them. I need someone else. Someone she will learn torespect. She needs to be brought back here. Nowhere else is safeuntil we find the bastards who killed my otherdaughter.”
“I understand.”
“She’s been through a lotso I don’t expect you will find her in the best ofmoods.”
“How does she feel about abodyguard?”
“Probably the same shefeels about me; distrustful and angry. She’s had them before,though, maybe not of your caliber, and it’s been a few years, butenough to be able to tolerate them.” Peter smiled without emotion.“She’ll do it though. She witnessed her sister’s death. She’sfrightened. However, you’re smart. I know you can handleher.”
Handle her? Like he thoughtbefore, how hard could it be? She was probably a sheltered spoiledprincess and would just need to be told the rules. He was certainshe wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, she was his way in. If therewas resistance, he’d make her listen. His agenda was more importantthan a socialite’s safety.
Ryan also didn’t ask whathappened. He already knew. His superiors gave him everything onPeter Nickolov and his family. Both women were abducted outside anightclub and the younger was found three days later tied, gaggedand left near one of Peter’s whorehouses. The older, found dead,washed up on a beach. None of the intel he had on the family knewwhat had happened. He only knew about the autopsy on Anna Nickolov.The surviving sister was questioned, but she said she didn’t seetheir faces or hear anything. She was kept bound, gagged andblindfolded the entire time. Ryan knew that wasn’t true. You alwayshear something, see something, or smell something that you wouldnever forget. He knew this for a fact. She was lying because shewas terrified. That would work in his favor. She needed him and hewould do his best to protect her, but his priority was hisbrother’s killer.
CHAPTER ONE
The morgue was cold. Itwasn’t the first one he’d been in, but this time it wasdifferent—horrid. The chill ran deep this time, all the way to hisbones. One of his superiors, and a good friend, Ned Sampson, stoodbeside him with his hand on his shoulder for support. Ryan didn’tshow any emotion when the coroner placed his hands on either sideof the stark white sheet at the head of the body and smoothlyfolded it back to reveal the handsome face of the dead man on theslab. A man, that was once a child he played with, fought with andshared a brotherly bond that was unbreakable. Icy fingers wrappedaround his heart as his eyes studied the man beneath. Nothing inhis expression stirred, but the anguish was deep. He swallowed hardto curb the emotions. They cleaned him up for the viewing, but itdidn’t hide the bullet hole in his forehead. Execution style. Amixture of rage and devastation hit him like a sledge hammer to thegut, and he actually felt his knees go weak for a moment. Still,you wouldn’t know it by the lack of expression on hisface.
“Sir?”
His eyes went to thecoroner. “Yes,” he finally said calmly. “That’s him.” He felt Ned’sfingers squeeze his shoulder.
“I need you to say hisname,” the detective said.
Ryan shifted his gaze toman who stood opposite of him beside the coroner, Detective WilliamKinsley. He’d introduced himself when they met outside the morgue’sdouble steel doors. He’d almost forgotten he stood there. He’d beensilent until now, out of respect. He was there doing his job, andhe could see sympathy in the man’s eyes. Not just for him, but forthe man on the cold slab—one of their own.
“That’s Georgy Lavoie, alsoknown as George Casey, but he kept my mother’s maidenname.”
“Why?”
Ryan moved his eyes back tohis brother. “To make sure no one knew he was my brother.” Hereturned his gaze to the detective. “To protect hisfamily.”
The detective’s eyesnarrowed. “What exactly does that—”
“—We’re done here. If youhave any questions you can contact our office,” Ned interrupted ashe handed a card to the detective. “Although, that is probably allthe cooperation you are going to get Detective Kinsley, becausethat’s all he knows. You have your ID of the body. Yourinterrogation of my employee ends here.” Ned’s words were absolute,and held an air of authority no one could match.
The detective took the cardand looked at it. “This is blank except for a phonenumber.”
“Yes, I know. Call thatnumber and you’ll get all the information that you would get here.”Meaning, nothing. He patted Ryan on the shoulder. “Let’s get out ofhere.”
Bill knew exactly what thatmeant. He could feel this slipping away from him and he reallywanted to close this case. They wouldn’t have even known he’d had abrother if it wasn’t for Georgy’s widow. She had some phone numberin case of emergency, but nothing else. She’d never even met theman, but she couldn’t bear to see her husband the way he was—acorpse. “Mr. Casey, please,” the detective said. “Just a momentalone—off the record. He was a good cop. I want to close this outof respect for his family, for us.”
Ryan paused and thought fora moment. Yes, Georgy was a good cop, and a good detective andfamily man. He was honest, righteous and had integrity. He wantedto save the world, just like their father did. Then he went intoundercover work despite having a young family. He worked in thenarcotics division. Why would he risk such a thing? He was angrywith him, but he was dead, and there was nothing he could do tobring him back. Finally, Ryan looked at his boss and nodded that itwas okay.
“You have sixty seconds.”He exchanged firm glances with Ryan and the detective, thenleft.
“Thank you,” William saidstepping up to Ryan while flipping pages in hisnotebook.
“You heard him, sixtyseconds.” Ryan repeated and near flinched when the coroner slid theslab containing his brother back in the drawer and shut it with ametallic snap.
“I’ll be quick. Do you knowanything of his undercover work?”
“No. It may surprise youDetective,
