Chapter Fourteen

Alec Buchanan was one of the last passengers to leave the plane. A flight attendant had to wake him. He’d fallen asleep about ten seconds after he had clipped on his seat belt and stretched his long legs in a poor attempt to get comfortable.

Alec could sleep anywhere, anytime, much to his brother Nick’s consternation. Nick was afraid to fly and went to great lengths to avoid it, which, of course, made him the brunt of many family jokes. Alec didn’t mind flying at all, though he thought the flight from Boston to Chicago was too short. Since he’d stayed up most of the night with his five brothers and two sisters catching up on all the news, he would have liked a much longer nap.

He knew he looked like hell. He hadn’t shaved since his interview with the FBI Thursday morning. He was pretty sure the job was his if he wanted it. Ward Dayborough, the head of the special crimes division, had been actively recruiting him for over a year and had all but guaranteed that he’d be based out of Boston.

That was just one of the many incentives for taking the job, but even if he didn’t make this move, he still needed to find the time to go home more often. He missed his family.

Over the weekend, the entire Buchanan clan had gathered at their parents’ sprawling island home on Nathan’s Bay to celebrate their father’s birthday. Nick and his wife, Laurant, had brought their baby girl to the island for the first time.

While he was there, Nick, along with the oldest brother, Theo, worked on Alec to accept the offer from the FBI. They tried to convince him that it was a family obligation. Theo was an attorney with the Justice Department, and Nick had been an agent for a special branch of the FBI for many years. Alec did love Boston, and Nick, now that he had a family and needed a bigger place, was offering him a great deal on his town house.

It was time for a change, and Alec had a lot to think about. Being back home had been wonderful, even though he’d taken quite a beating playing football with all of his brothers. Ironically, the bruised shoulder that hurt the most had actually been inflicted by one of his younger sisters, Jordan. He smiled when he thought about her. Jordan was brilliant, no argument there, and had made them all a fortune when they invested in her design for a computer chip that revolutionized the industry, but as smart as she was, she had absolutely no common sense. She was also a klutz. She hadn’t meant to tackle him; she’d simply tripped over her own feet. Fortunately for her, his shoulder took the brunt of her fall, and he’d caught her before she broke any bones.

It was raining when he drove away from O’Hare. Traffic was a bitch, but it still wasn’t as bad as Boston’s rush hour. He took shortcuts back to his apartment, unpacked, and put on his favorite pair of worn-out jeans. He was about to check his messages when his old partner, Gil Hutton, called. Gil had recently retired but still kept his fingers in the gossip pie. Alec swore Gil was clairvoyant. He knew things before they happened.

Gil didn’t waste words on pleasantries. “I got the lowdown on Lewis.”

“Yeah?” Alec laughed as he opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He popped the tab, and took a long swallow. He could just picture Gil rubbing his head-a habit that used to drive Alec nuts-and gloating. The man loved to gloat when he had hot news.

Alec was feeling a little guilty because he hadn’t confided in his friend about leaving the department. He had good reason. Alec knew Gil wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about his interview with the FBI.

“Lewis was real pissed you fought him about firing that rookie. Know how he’s getting even?”

Alec was suddenly weary. He dropped down on the sofa and closed his eyes. God, how he hated politics. “How?”

“If you try to get a transfer out, he’s gonna block it.”

“I didn’t put in for a transfer.”

“Yeah? Why not? I just assumed…”

Gil’s radar was up. It wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together and figure out that Alec was leaving.

“I haven’t had time to do the paperwork,” he said. That much was true, he thought. He hadn’t had time.

“Well, Lewis will block it. I just thought you should know.”

Alec didn’t ask him where he got his information, but he thought Gil must spend most of his day on the phone, gathering little tidbits.

“You need to get a life.”

His ex-partner ignored the comment. “Lewis is a real prick.”

“Yes,” Alec agreed. “And a game player.”

Worse, he thought, the lieutenant didn’t back up his men the way he should. He hung anyone in trouble out to dry, like the young policeman who really hadn’t done anything wrong except have the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“He’s lost the respect of his detectives,” Gil remarked.

“He never earned our respect. So tell me. Did he block the kid’s transfer?”

“That kid is only four years younger than you are.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have my experience or cynicism.”

“Lewis wasn’t able to block that one. Hey, you want to grab a beer down at Finnegan’s?”

“Not tonight.”

“Maybe tomorrow night then? I want to hear your theories about Detective Sweeney.”

“What about Sweeney?”

“You didn’t hear?”

Alec was losing patience. “Hear what?”

“Oh, man, I thought you knew, but of course you couldn’t have heard since you’ve been in Boston. Don’t you check your messages?”

“I was about to when you called. So tell me. What about him?”

“He was murdered last night.”

Chapter Fifteen

Regan had really made a mess of her knee. As much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t put off the surgery any longer. She called the orthopedic surgeon’s office Monday morning, fully expecting that, because of his busy schedule, he wouldn’t be able to get to her for at least a month or two. That would give her sufficient time to get ready mentally and physically. As it turned out, he had a last-minute cancellation Tuesday morning. She didn’t tell anyone except Henry, her assistant, because she didn’t want her brothers or her friends worrying about her.

The doctor was able to do arthroscopic surgery, which meant a much shorter recovery time. She only had to use crutches for two days, and after two additional days of taking it easy, she began rehab.

She had just finished a workout to strengthen her knee when Sophie and Cordie stopped by her suite in the hotel.

“I’m still angry with you, Regan,” Sophie said. “We had to find out you had surgery after the fact.”

Cordie agreed. “You’d be furious if Sophie or I did that to you.”

“You’re right. I was wrong,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to worry, and it was no big deal.”

“I don’t care if it was a big deal or not. You should have told us,” Sophie argued.

“I don’t know what irritates me more. That you had surgery without us, or that you bailed on that godawful seminar where we had to listen to that quack doctor do one stupid exercise after another. It was the most miserable weekend of my life.”

“It was pretty awful,” Sophie agreed. “After the seminar, I talked to Shields’s people about refunding your fee, but they refused. I told them you had hurt your knee, but they weren’t at all sympathetic. The woman told us Shields has a strict policy. No refunds. How come I’m not surprised?”

“I demanded to talk to the doctor himself,” Cordie said. She had spotted a candy dish on the credenza and was sorting through the hard candies looking for peppermints.

“And that’s when we found out Shields has gone to his vacation home. Debbie said he needs his alone-time to rejuvenate. I translated that to mean he needs time to come up with more idiotic exercises.”