Nik let out a frustrated breath as the traffic light ahead of him turned red. A love of the sea and fishing was big in the Angelis family. Their paternal grandfather had made his living as a fisherman in Greece, and Nik figured he’d inherited his love of sailing from his maternal great-grandfather, who’d made his fortune building boats in nearby Sausalito. Even though his father had become a restaurateur, Spiro Angelis still found the time to join his sons at the cabin as often as he could. But lately Spiro was always busy at the restaurant.
After eighteen years, there was a new woman in his father’s life. She was a five-star chef he had met on a recent visit to Greece and had invited to come to San Francisco to help him expand his restaurant. The result was that The Poseidon now offered fine dining on an upper level—and Spiro and Helena had somehow become rivals. Each time Helena added a new item to her menu, Spiro felt obligated to add something to his. His aunt Cass and his sister Philly thought that Spiro was in love with Helena and bungling it badly. So far, Nik and his brothers had stayed out of it, but drama was running high at the restaurant.
As he inched his car forward, Nik felt the pricking in his thumbs grow stronger. Not a good sign. He was Greek enough to know that he couldn’t escape what fate had in store and curious enough to wonder if his premonition would prove to be work-or family-related.
He thought of his partner, Dinah McCall. She was assigned to a stakeout this weekend—a drug dealer that they’d been watching for months. Because he was off duty, she was paired up with a rookie.
On impulse, he lifted his cell phone off his belt and punched in her number.
“If you’re calling to let me know that you’re sitting on the front porch of that cabin and opening your first beer, I’ll get even,” Dinah said. “You won’t know when it will happen—next month, a year from now. Or what it will be—tacks on your chair, salt in your coffee. Or perhaps, I’ll have a heart-to-heart with one of those blondes you’re always dating and tell them what a long string of other Malibu Barbie-types you’ve left in your wake. You’ll live in terror, not knowing when or how I will strike.”
Nik grinned. “Empty threats. I live in terror of you already. How’s the stakeout going?”
“Boring. I’m on my third crossword puzzle and my second bag of M&M’s. Luckily our relief should get here soon. And you’re calling because you don’t think I can handle myself without you.”
“Not true,” Nik insisted. And it wasn’t. In spite of the fact that she was barely five foot two and dressed like what his sister Philly would describe as a girly-girl, Dinah McCall was a smart and tough cop. “I’m just having one of my…feelings. So be careful.”
“You be careful, too,” she said, her tone suddenly serious. “Where are you calling from?”
“My car. I figure it’s going to take me another hour just to get across the bridge.”
“I’m hanging up. Do you happen to know how many accidents are caused every year by people talking on their cell phones? In some states, you could get a ticket for driving while talking on your cell. And if you got into an accident, you might mess up that pretty face of yours, and there would go one of my job perks.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” He glanced in his side-view mirror, then floored the gas pedal and cut off a taxi. The cab driver blasted his horn.
“Considering the way you drive, it’s a wonder your thumbs haven’t fallen off,” Dinah commented.
Nik laughed. “Watch your back, Dinah.”
“Same to you, partner.”
He shouldn’t have called her, Nik thought as he hooked the phone back on his belt. She’d worry about him now, but he’d wanted her forewarned. Dinah was the only person outside his family he’d ever told about his “gift,” and she’d been with him once when one of his little premonitions had saved both of their lives.
The problem was the premonition could very well be about his family. The last time his thumbs had pricked this insistently was the weekend his cousin Dino had announced that he was going to join the naval academy and see the world. It wasn’t a decision that Nik had particularly liked because he’d seen the sorrow that had come into his aunt Cass’s eyes. However, he’d supported Dino because he’d seen the same look in his father’s eyes when he’d announced he was going to enter the police academy.
His father had always nurtured the dream that one of his sons would follow in his footsteps in the restaurant business and take over The Poseidon one day, but it didn’t look like it would pan out that way. Kit had a thriving P.I. business and a promising new career as a crime fiction writer. Theo, the middle brother, was a rising star in the San Francisco legal community. And Nik had a hunch his kid sister Philly would be following in his aunt Cass’s footsteps since she seemed to have a special knack for communicating with animals.
The light changed to green and Nik inched his way through the intersection and down half a block before he had to stop. His patience, never his strong suit, wore even thinner. He was never going to get out of the city at this speed. Nik was sorely tempted to slap the light on the hood of his car and start the siren.
He was eyeing the string of cars to his left, waiting for an opportunity to cut in, when there was a blast of static from his radio.
“Attention all units. Two callers reporting shots fired at St. Peter’s Church on Skylar near Bellevue. At least one man seriously injured. Ambulances have been dispatched.”
The sensation in Nik’s thumbs sharpened and he felt adrenaline shoot through his system. This was it. He was sure of it. Bellevue and Skylar was only about ten blocks away. He grabbed the light and slapped it on the hood of his car. Then he picked up the handset. “Detective Nik Angelis. I’ll take it. I’m only a few blocks away.”
“Roger. I’ll send backup.”
Nik turned on the siren, executed a U-turn, and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
2
ST. PETER’S CHURCH looked quiet enough when he pulled up to the corner of the intersection. No cars parked in front. No pedestrian traffic on the street. Since there was no sign of backup yet, Nik turned the corner and pulled into the parking area behind the church. Three vehicles were parked there. One was a black Mercedes sedan, another a white van with Have an Affair with J.C. scrawled across the side. It was the third one that had Nik frowning. He recognized both the car and the plate; it had been parked in the driveway of his aunt Cass’s house often enough. It belonged to his brother’s best friend, Roman Oliver.
He got out of his car, pulled out his gun and moved quickly toward a covered walkway connecting the rectory to the church. He should wait for backup to arrive, but the door to the church was open…and it was too damn quiet.
Nik spotted the body from the walkway. The tightening in his stomach eased the moment that he registered the man lying on the floor of the sacristy was too big to be Roman. Crouching, he stepped into the room and fanned his gun.
No one. The space was small and lined with cupboards. Shots had been fired all right. A mirror had been splintered and so had a doorjamb. The body at his feet was lying in a pool of blood. Keeping his gun aimed at the open door leading to the altar, he squatted down and checked for a pulse. None. The dead man was large, with the kind of build that required regular maintenance and custom-made suits. His tie was silk, his shoes expensive-looking. He was also holding a Glock in his right hand. Bodyguard or hired gun?
This wasn’t going to be the only body. Nik was certain of that. Sirens sounded in the distance as he rose and moved into the doorway that opened onto the altar. Once more he fanned his gun, taking in the choir loft that ran