by Nora Roberts
the envelope, along with keys. The building is being renovated. Renovations will be put on hold as of today. When you have Mr. Sullivan, and hopefully Miss Toliver, you’re to take them there. Use the basement facilities. Employ whatever means necessary to restrain them, then contact me at the number I’ve already given you. Is that all very clear?”
“I got it.”
“You get me the man and the woman, and you’ll get the money you’ve asked for. After that, I don’t want to ever see or hear from you again.”
He took the envelope. “Figure you want to know. Taps are off the Marsh woman’s phone.”
Anita pursed her lips. “Doesn’t matter,” she decided. “She doesn’t interest me any longer.”
“Her old man got real talky when I went in his place and asked about those statues. Sounded like he’d like to get his hands on them.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would. I assume he told you nothing particularly helpful.”
“Said something about how he’d heard maybe one was in Greece. Athens. But said it was just a rumor, and there were others.”
“Athens. Well, that was yesterday.”
“Tried getting information out of me, acting like he was just shooting the breeze, but he was digging.”
“I’m no longer concerned with that. Get me Malachi Sullivan. You can leave the way you came in.”
She figured he didn’t have a brain, Jasper decided as he walked out. Figured he didn’t have the smarts to find out what was what.
He’d find this Sullivan guy, all right, and the woman. But he’d be fucked if he’d turn them over for a lousy hundred grand. If they were the connection to those statues, they’d tell him about it. And when he had the Fates, Anita Gaye would pay, and pay deeply.
Then maybe he’d do her just the way he figured she’d done that asshole Dubrowsky. Right before he hopped a plane to Rio.
ANITA STAYED AT her desk, going through messages. To entertain herself she tore those pertaining to the police into small pieces. Investigations of homicides and burglaries weren’t her job, after all.
She intended to contact the insurance agent very shortly. She expected them to deliver a check for her claim promptly. If they needed to be reminded that she could easily take her hefty annual premiums elsewhere, she would be happy to do so.
The doorbell rang twice. She cursed her miserably inefficient and grossly overpaid staff before remembering she’d dismissed them for the remainder of the day.
Sighing over the annoyance of having to do everything herself, she went to the door. She wasn’t pleased to see the two detectives standing on her stoop, but after weighing the pros and cons of ignoring them, she opened the door.
“Detectives, you just caught me.”
Lew Gilbert nodded. “Ms. Gaye. May we come in?”
“This really isn’t a good time. I’ve just returned from an overseas trip. I’m very tired.”
“But you’re on your way out? You said we just caught you.”
“Just caught me before I lay down,” she said sweetly.
“We’ll make it quick, then.”
“Very well.” She stepped back to let them in. “I didn’t realize you were working with . . . I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Detective Robbins.”
“Of course. I didn’t realize you were working with Detective Robbins on the burglary, Detective Gilbert.”
“Sometimes cases overlap.”
“I imagine. Of course, I’m delighted to have two of New York’s finest looking into my problem. Please sit down. I’m afraid I sent the servants off, as I wanted the house to myself. But I’m sure I could manage coffee if you’d like.”
“Thanks just the same.” Lew sat down, started the rhythm. “You said you’d just gotten back from a trip? Something you planned before the break-in.”
“Something that came up unexpectedly.”
“Overseas?”
“Yes.” She crossed her legs smoothly. “Athens.”
“Must be something. All those old temples. What’s that drink? Ouzo. Had some once at a wedding. Some kick.”
“So I’m told. I’m afraid this trip was business, and I didn’t have time for temples and ouzo.”
“Tough on you, having to take off like that right after the burglary,” Bob put in. “You usually do the business travel?”
“Depending.” She didn’t care for his tone. Not one bit. When this was over, she was going to have a few choice words on the subject with his superiors. “Excuse me, but if we could get to the point?”
“We’ve been trying to contact you. It hampers the investigation when the victim’s incommunicado.”
“As I said, it was necessary and unexpected. In any case, I gave Detective Gilbert all the information I had. I assumed you and the insurance company would handle the rest of it.”
“You filed your claim.”
“I left the paperwork with my assistant before I left. She assured me it was messengered to my agent. Do you have any leads on my property, or on who broke into my building?”
“The investigation’s ongoing. Ms. Gaye, do you know anything about the Three Fates?”
For a moment all she could do was stare. “Of course. They’re a legend in my line of work and my field of interest. Why?”
“A tip that maybe that’s what the thieves were after. But you didn’t list any silver statue or statues on your claim form.”
“A tip? From whom?”
“Anonymous, but we intend to follow up any and all leads in this case. I didn’t see anything that matches the description of any of these statues on your inventory list.”
“You wouldn’t, as I don’t have one. If I did, Detective, you can be sure I would have had it locked in a vault. The Fates are extremely valuable. Unfortunately, one was certainly lost with its owner on the Lusitania. As for the other two . . . No one can substantiate their existence.”
“So you don’t have one of these statues?”
The anger, the insult of being questioned edged into her voice. “I believe I’ve already answered that question. If I did own one of the Fates, you can be sure I’d announce it loud and clear. The publicity would be very beneficial to Morningside.”
“Well, anonymous tips usually turn out to be dead ends.” Lew took the apologetic route. “Just as well. Something like that wouldn’t go through the usual channels and fences. Since you weren’t available, we got photographs and descriptions of the stolen property from the insurance company. We’ve been checking all those usual avenues. Jack Burdett’s cooperated regarding the security. But I’m going to be honest, Ms. Gaye, we’re coming up empty so far.”
“It’s very upsetting. I’m trying to be grateful we were fully insured. Though, of course, I hope to have the property restored. But it’s very upsetting to know that Morningside was vulnerable. You’ll have to excuse me.” She got to her feet. “I’m really very tired.”
“We’ll keep you updated.” Bob rose. “Oh, on the other matter? That homicide in the warehouse you used to own.”
Not just a few choice words, Anita decided. She would see to it this man was fired. “Really, Detective, I think we’ve established I know nothing about it.”
“Just wanted you to know that we’ve ID’d a suspect. A man the victim was purported to be working with most recently.” Pulled a photo out of his inside pocket. “You recognize this man?”
Anita stared at the photograph of Jasper and wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or scream. “No, I don’t.”
“Didn’t think you would, but we’ve got to follow up the angles. Thanks for your time, Ms. Gaye.”
As they walked back to their car, the cops exchanged one brief look. “She’s dirty,” Lew said.
“Oh yeah. Up to her swanlike neck.”
The minute the car pulled away from the curb, Cleo pulled out her phone. “She’s primed,” she said. “Make the call.” Then she tucked the phone away and turned to Gideon in the driver’s seat. “Let’
s just hang a few minutes. I bet we’ll be able to hear her scream all the way out here.”
“We could do that.” He passed her back the oversweet soft drink she’d brought for them to share during the stakeout. “And after, I think we could take a little detour to Tia’s. No one’s there at the moment.”
“Oh.” Cleo tucked her tongue in her cheek. “What did you have in mind?”
“Tearing your clothes off, tossing you down on the first handy flat surface and having at you.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Inside the house, Anita stormed up the stairs. She should have killed Jasper. Killed him when she’d had the chance, then hired fresh muscle, one with a brain, to track down Malachi. Now she would have to find a way to do it anyway, and before the police found him.
It had to have been Malachi who’d called the cops about the Fates. Who else could it be? But why? Had he been the one who tried to break into Morningside?
She balled her hands into fists as she paced her bedroom. How could some tour captain circumvent that layer of security? He could have hired someone, she supposed. But the man wasn’t rolling in money.
It had to go back to him, all of it. And oh, oh, would she make him suffer for it.
She snatched up the phone on the first ring and snarled into the receiver. “What?”
“Rough day, darling?”
She bit back the curses on her tongue and all but cooed. “Well, well. Malachi. Isn’t this a surprise.”
“The first of many. How did you find Athens?”
“I turned left at Italy.”
“Good one. I don’t recall you being quick with a joke, but it’s nice to see you’ve your good humor in place. You’ll need it. Guess what I’m looking at? Lovely silver ladies. A little birdie told me you were working very hard to find them. Looks as if I beat you to it.”
“You want to deal, we’ll deal. Where are you? I’d prefer discussing this face-to-face.”
“I’ll just bet you would. We’ll deal, Anita, indeed we will. I’ll be in touch with you about the when and where, but I want to give you time to recover from the shock.”
“You don’t shock me.”
“Why don’t you go see how your own little silver lady fared while you were turning left at Italy? And stick around the house, won’t you? I’ll ring you back in thirty minutes. You should be conscious again by then.”
When the phone clicked in her ear, she slammed the receiver down. He wasn’t going to shake her. So, he had two to her one, but that was all right. All he’d done was save her the trouble of getting them through customs and smuggling them back to New York herself.
She glanced toward the closet and, unable to resist, walked over and inside. Her fingers trembled with fury as she opened the panel, opened the safe.
Cleo was right. At that distance and that angle, they could just hear the scream.
Twenty-nine
OW that she was naked, facedown on the floor and trying to get her breath back, Cleo figured letting Gideon have at her had been worth the rug burn. In spades.
And since she’d had at him right back, she didn’t think she’d hear any complaints from him either.
They had, she thought, a really fine rhythm going between them. The kind she could dance to endlessly.
“Doing okay there?” he asked her.
“I think some of my brains might have leaked out my ears, but I’ve got more. How about you?”
“Well, I can’t see yet, but I’m hopeful the blindness is temporary. Still, ending up blind and brain-damaged doesn’t seem like such a high price to pay.”
“You sure are a cutie, Slick.”
“At such a time, a man prefers being called a tiger or some other sort of wild beast rather than a cutie.”
“Okay. You’re a regular mastodon.”
“That’ll have to do. We should get up, put ourselves back together.”
“Yeah. We should.”
And they lay as they were, a tangled and sweaty heap with clothes scattered around them.
“I heard, through the grapevine, that you’re thinking of opening a club or a school or some such.”
She managed to move one shoulder in what passed for a shrug. “I’m thinking about it.”
“So, you’re not set on going back to dancing, spinning around on Broadway and that sort of thing.”
“I never did a hell of a lot of spinning on Broadway anyway.”
“I think you’re a wonderful dancer.”
“I’m not bad.” She turned her head, rested her cheek on the rug. “But you’ve got to know when to move on or you end up a blown-out gypsy being bounced from audition to audition.”
“So, you’re more in mind to stay put.”
“You could say.”
He trailed his finger up her spine, down again. She had such a lovely, long back. “You know, they have clubs and dance schools in Ireland.”
“No kidding? And here I thought all they had were shamrocks and little green fairies.”
“You forgot the beer.”
She ran her tongue around her teeth. “Could use one right now.”
“I’ll get us both one, when I can feel my legs again. Cobh’s not so big and crowded as New York . . .” Thank the lord. “But it’s a good-sized village, and we get lots of tourists. It’s not such a ways from Cork City, if there’s a need for the urban sort of crowds and traffic. We’re very big on dancing in Ireland, whether it’s the doing it or the learning it. You know, a dancer’s a kind of artist, and we hold our artists as national treasures.”
“Is that so?” She could feel her heart begin to thud, but stayed very still. “Maybe I should check it out.”
“I think you should.” His hand began to rub light, lazy circles on her butt. “So, do you want to get married?”
She closed her eyes a moment, let the honey of it—warm and sweet—slide through her. Then she turned her head, looked him in the eye. “Sure.”
Their grins spread, and, laughing, they reached for each other just as the front door opened.
“Oh, Mother of God! My eyes.” Malachi slammed his shut, covered Tia’s with his hand. “Is it so hard to find the bed in this place?”
“We were in a hurry.” Gideon grabbed for jeans and had them nearly to his knees before he realized they were Cleo’s. “Just hold on.”
Cackling with laughter now, Cleo tossed Gideon his pants, then snagged his shirt for herself. “It’s okay. We’re getting married.”
“Married?” Tia shoved Malachi’s hand aside and, caught up in the thrill, rushed over to hug Cleo. “This is wonderful. It’s just wonderful. Oh, oh, you can have a double wedding! You and Gideon and Rebecca and Jack. A double wedding. Wouldn’t that be fabulous?”
“It’s a thought.” Cleo peeked around Tia at Malachi, who was staring hard at the ceiling. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me, welcome me to the bosom of the Sullivans and all that jazz?”
“This isn’t the time to mention bosoms. Put some clothes on. I can’t come over there when you’re naked.”
“I’m only mostly naked.” With Gideon’s shirt skimming her thighs, Cleo got up, walked to him. “Is this cool with you? Mister Head of the Family?”
He looked down and, relieved the shirt was buttoned, took her