“Smart-ass.”
Nick stepped up to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. The sign had indicated the place was open from mid- April to October.
“Maybe they mean late mid-April,” Kelly said.
Nick used his badge to knock on the window. They could hear someone moving inside, and finally a woman with a white bonnet and a Revolutionary-era costume came bustling up to the door.
“I’m sorry, dear, we’re closed for the day,” she said through the window.
Nick held the badge up for her to see through the glass.
“We’ll only need a minute,” he told her.
She took a deep stuttering breath and glanced furtively over her shoulder. “If you’ll come back tomorrow,” she said, her voice shaky.
Nick cocked his head, looking behind her into the ancient home. The stairs still sported bullet holes from the fighting over two-hundred years ago, and everything had been restored to its original state. Like most homes built in Massachusetts during the early days, the front faced south.
The afternoon light streamed through the western windows, and Nick could see a shadow moving on the floorboards in front of the stairwell.
He gave the woman a nod and a smile. “Tomorrow it is then,” he said kindly. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned away from the door and pulled Kelly with him.
“Someone had a gun on her,” Kelly whispered.
Nick hummed and pointed toward the car, slipping Kelly his gun while their backs were turned to the house. “I want you to go around back, get in the house quiet.”
“Got it.”
Kelly headed around the corner of the house, disappearing within seconds. Nick took out his phone and dialed Hagan. It was still ringing when the door creaked open behind him. He turned, holding the phone away from his ear.
A man stood with the woman in the bonnet, his arm around her neck and a knife to her cheek. “Put that mobile down,” he ordered. His was another Irish accent. “Get inside.”
Nick dropped his phone to the ground without ending the call and put his hands behind his head, walking toward the door obediently.
“You’re a cop?” the man spat. “Son of a bitch.” He slammed the door behind Nick, and shoved the woman at him, forcing them both through a doorway. “Get in there!”
Nick caught her and put an arm around her shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked as they moved into the other room.
She nodded jerkily. Nick walked her over to a nearby chair and she sat, then he turned and stood in front of her. Only then did he get a good look at the other players in the room.
There was one more man with a gun, and a third hunched against the wall near the fireplace. It took a moment for Nick to recognize him. Cameron Jacobs.
“Cam?” he blurted. “Are you okay?”
“Detective O’Flaherty?” Cameron made to stand, but he winced away from one of his captors when the man made a move toward him. He had a few bruises around his face and arms, and his lip was cracked and bloody. He’d obviously been kept under control through physical means.
“Hey!” Nick shouted. “Touch him again and you deal with me.”
“You want to get hard, motherfucker? Come on!” the man challenged. His accent sounded like home to Nick. It almost made him laugh. Some Southie thug with a gun coming at him like he’d last a minute hand-to-hand with Nick.
“Sit the f**k down!” the other kidnapper shouted at Nick.
Nick remained standing, meeting the man’s eyes without flinching. The guy moved closer, putting the muzzle of his gun against Nick’s cheek. “I said sit your arse down.”
Nick cocked his head, lips twitching. “Make me.”
Before the man could react, Kelly whistled behind him.
When he turned, Nick grabbed the gun, hitting a pressure point in the man’s arm that would immediately incapacitate his fingers. Kelly hit him with a roundhouse punch that threw him back into Nick, and Nick picked him up and slammed him to his back. The floor shook beneath him, artifacts around the room rattled. Nick kicked the heel of his boot into the man’s head to put him down. The museum curator screamed, covering her face with her bonnet.
Nick turned his stolen gun on the other man, but he had grabbed Cameron and was using him as a shield.
“Oh, son,” Nick drawled. “That wasn’t your smartest move.”
A dark shadow passed in the corner of Nick’s vision.
“You might want to let him go,” Nick warned.
“Fuck you! Put your guns down or he gets one in the skul !”
The door creaked open behind Nick, and Kelly turned to cover their new guests as Nick kept his gun on the Southie kid.
“Looks like we’re having a party.” It was the smooth honey tones of Alex. “Are we invited?” She moved around the corner, a gun pointed at Nick.
“Drop your weapon,” Kelly ordered.
“You first. Ladies can’t be too careful these days.”
“All of you drop your weapons!” the Southie kid shouted.
“Cam, stay calm,” Nick called across the room. There were way too many guns in play now. Nick moved just enough to put his shoulder to Kelly’s, both of them facing opposite directions in the middle of the two forces.
“Cameron?” Julian called. He stepped out into the open.
Nick couldn’t see him, but he could tell where he was from his heavy footsteps on the old floorboards. He felt Kelly tense against him.
“Julian!” Cameron cried. He tensed, but the gun at his cheek dug deeper.
“Don’t f**king move!” Southie shouted.
The man on the floor groaned, and Nick turned, preparing to deliver another swift kick to the man’s temple.
“Don’t,” a new voice said urgently. “He’s got information we need.”
Nick’s head jerked up. JD was standing behind Southie, obviously having snuck in from the kitchen. He had Nick’s gun in his hand, but he wasn’t pointing it anywhere. Yet.
“JD,” Nick said in warning.
“Hunt!” Alex called.
Kelly hummed under his breath, and the sound vibrated through Nick’s entire body. They pressed closer together, their first instinct when they were hemmed in. “There are way too many people here.”
“Everyone stay calm,” Nick said in a loud, clear voice. “We can all leave here with what we want. No one has to get hurt.”
“He keeps that gun pointed at my husband, and someone will indeed be hurt,” Julian snarled.