Swan appeared less shocked than she’d been when Dinah confronted her the first time. “I know how close you were to your father, and whatever it was that Cleon said about his death unsettled you. But the police determined Hart’s death was an accident.”
“An accident Cleon caused to happen,” said Dinah. “Please don’t insult me by denying it. I don’t really care what you choose to believe, Mom. I choose to believe that you didn’t conspire with Cleon because to think otherwise would make me hate you and I refuse to let his shadow darken one more day of my life.”
“You’re angry because you think I should have spent more time mourning your father instead of taking up with a new husband.”
“Several new husbands,” corrected Dinah.
“I know that seems shallow to you. If you could have designed your perfect mama, I guess it wouldn’t have been me. But nobody gets a perfect mama. Yes, I loved Cleon and I also loved your father. I’ve loved all of my husbands. I’m sorry you’ve gotten it in your head that I did something wrong or that I let you down.” She acted as though she were the one who was owed an apology and it was her prerogative to bestow forgiveness. Blithe as a lark, she smiled and rolled out the old charm. “This is all just a rigmarole. You’re got this jail thing hanging over your head and it’s made you crotchety. You need to see Klaus and let him do the worrying for you. And baby, if you have to go to jail, I’ll bring you a hacksaw.”
There was a sort of amazed silence and then Thor laughed, mostly to break the tension, Dinah thought. He said, “I hear you’re a natural smuggler, Swan. Maybe you can give N.C.I.S. a few pointers that’ll help us spot the criminals.”
Dinah listened to the outpouring of charm that followed, and marveled at Swan’s automatic nonchalance. She might be a pathological liar and a narcissist, but she was the mama Fate had given her. As there was no cure for narcissism or Fate, Dinah had budgeted the rest of her life in which to fathom the mysteries of the mother-daughter relationship.
Thor put his arm around her shoulder. “You look tense. Are you sure you won’t have a glass of Riesling?”
“No thanks. I’m on the wagon since my episode with the bad martini.”
Margaret drained her wine and her face split into a smile that made her look almost young. “You put on a top-notch exorcism, Dinah. I can almost hear the pitter-patter of little demon feet running for cover.”
Chapter Forty-one
Dinah and Thor sat together at the kitchen table. He pecked away on his laptop. She watched the steam rise off her morning mug of tea. Coffee didn’t taste right to her anymore and she had bought a box of Tranquil Dream chamomile to see if it went down any better. Her life had changed radically during the one short month she’d been in Berlin. She felt like a victim of future shock.
She hadn’t told Thor yet about the failure of the patch. Margaret had sworn up and down that she hadn’t spilled the beans and Dinah was angling for a way to break the news. She’d made up her mind to throw the dice and have the baby, but she didn’t want him to feel locked in if he didn’t want a second child. She feared she might weaken and change her mind again if he didn’t, and she was having a hard time thinking how to broach the subject. It would help if he looked up from his damned computer.
“Thor, there’s something we need to talk about.”
He finished whatever he’d been typing. “Sure, but first there’s a news article you should see.” He turned the computer screen toward her and clicked on the English site for Der Spiegel International.
She rested her chin in her hands and read.
“The German Government has apprehended one of its most wanted tax evaders, Reiner Hess, and charged him with felony fraud under the German Criminal Tax Fraud Law. More than 26,000 German tax evaders have come forward voluntarily and disclosed their undeclared assets. Hess did not and fled instead to Cyprus. His hidden accounts, some in Switzerland and some in Cyprus, will be seized and he faces up to ten years in prison. New information may subject him to further prosecution. Documents found in his possession reveal that he also maintained a multi-million dollar offshore account in Panama…”
She looked up and met Thor’s eyes. “Panama?”
He shrugged. “Small world.”
She took a sip of tea and resumed reading.
“The bank employee who managed Hess’ Panama account has disappeared and local authorities are investigating Hess’ prior association with an American drug dealer, Cleon Dobbs, who was shot to death in Australia in 2010. Panamanian and American authorities have been alerted to the possibility that the funds came from a drug cartel that operated worldwide. An investigation has been launched and, if ties to drug smuggling are proved, Hess may be extradited to the U.S. The German court has denied bail on the grounds that he is a flight risk.”
“Holy Moses.” Dinah could scarcely believe it. “You must have sailed awfully close to the wind to bring this off, Thor. How many laws did you have to break? How many legs?”
“No broken legs. I called in a couple of favors, planted a few clues.”
“You could lose your job if anyone finds out.”
“I was careful. I didn’t leave any fingerprints.”
“What about the banker?”
“I gave him a chance to get out of the country before the shit hit the fan. He took it.”
“But when he’s caught, he’ll drag me into the mess all over again, and you along with me. We could both end up in jail.”
“That won’t happen. It’s over, Dinah. I promise.”
She had a feeling he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, but lately, she’d come to understand that truth and honesty weren’t the same thing. The truth depended very much on point of view and it didn’t always coincide with justice. “I thought you would give the information to the IRS. I thought you’d play by the rules.”
“I usually do.”
“You’ve gone rogue, Ramberg. And I’m extremely, extremely grateful.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.
He answered her kiss in a way that suggested a fast return to the bedroom. And then he said, “I’ve been thinking about your mom’s idea.”
“What idea?”
“The one about us making it official.”
She pushed him away and eyed him doubtfully. “Have you been chitchatting with Margaret?”
“No, why?”
“No reason.” Was he lying?
“I’m asking you to marry me, kjære. Now. Today.”
He was definitely lying. She said, “Getting married in Germany is more complicated than showing up at the Bureau of Vital Statistics with stars in our eyes.”
“Neither of us is a German citizen. We could skip the red tape and the waiting period and get married in the Norwegian Embassy this afternoon. Jack can be my best man and K.D. your maid of honor.”
“Marriage is a big deal, Thor. There’s a lot to consider.”
“I’ve considered.” He handed her a ring box. “There’s no diamond. It’s a simple band with a Sami motif.”
She took out the ring and held it up to the light. “What do the markings mean?”
“They’re to protect you from the goblins.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“If Margaret hasn’t told you already, my protection failed. I’m pregnant.”
He looked surprised, or pretended to. “That’s wonderful news. I mean, it’s great by me, if it’s what you want.”
“I’ve never wanted a child. Never imagined it. I don’t know when the maternal feelings that people talk about are supposed to kick in, or if they ever will. Maybe I’ll be as airy and unreliable as my mother. Yet in spite of my unpromising qualifications and my best efforts not to multiply, it seems that I’m ‘on the nest’ and I can’t come up with a good reason to buck Fate.”
> “You’ll get the hang of it, Dinah. It’ll be a collaboration.”
She said, “I’ve heard that babies put the kibosh on sex and romance. Is that what happened to you and Jen?”
“Actually, Jen was certain from the start that she wanted a child. It didn’t take long before we both realized that she wanted the child more than she wanted me.”
“That’s definitely not the order of preference in the present case.” She slipped the ring on her finger. “Last chance to reconsider, Ramberg. Marry me and it’s ’til death do us part. And that’s worse than a threat. It’s a promise.”
He grinned. “On the way home from the wedding we can stop by a real estate office. I’ve been thinking for several days that we need a bigger apartment.”
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Where the Bones are Buried Page 28