The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 3

by Nora Roberts

  “You shouldn’t be sad today of all days.” He drew her into his arms, stroked his fingers through her sunny cap of hair. “We’ve done most of what we set out to do. And we’ll finish it.”

  “I’m not sad. But I am wondering what happens when we do finish it.”

  “When we do, the pattern changes again,” he said. He rubbed his cheek over the top of her head. “There’s something I should have told you before. Something I should’ve made clear.”

  She braced, shut her eyes. And the elevator doors opened.

  “Okay, break it up. We’ve got supplies.” Cleo, arms loaded with marketing bags, strode into the loft just ahead of Gideon. “Jack and Rebecca are on their way up. He’s got word on Anita.”

  “SHE ARRIVED ON schedule,” Jack relayed, “and was driven to the home of Stefan Nikos. Stefan was a friend and client of Paul Morningside, and both he and his wife are known for their art and antique collection, their charitable works. And their hospitality.”

  “It’s olive oil, isn’t it?” Rebecca plucked one of the olives from her plate and studied it. “I’ve read of him in Money magazine and Time and so on. He’s swimming in olive oil. Odd that such a homely little thing could make anyone so rich.”

  “Olive groves,” Jack agreed. “And vineyards, and the various by-products from both. He has homes on Athens, on Corfu, a pied-à-terre in Paris and a château in the Swiss Alps.” He plucked one of the olives from Rebecca’s plate, popped it into his mouth. “And security by Burdett in each location.”

  “You’ve a long reach, Jack,” Malachi commented.

  “Long enough. I spoke to Stefan last week after Tia planted the Athens seed.”

  “You might have told the rest of us,” Rebecca retorted.

  “Didn’t know if the seed would sprout. Like I said, he was a friend of Morningside. He’s not so fond of the widow. Me,” he added with a slow grin, “he likes just fine. Fine enough to do me a favor. He’s amused at the idea of stringing Anita along. He’ll keep her busy for a couple days with rumors of Lachesis and the tall, sexy brunette who’s hunting for the statue.”

  “Yeah? How am I liking Greece?”

  “You’re getting around,” Jack told Cleo. “Not much time for sight-seeing.”

  “There’s always next time.”

  “We’ll have a week at the outside,” Malachi calculated. “For the wheels to turn, to put everything else into play.” He paused, scanned the faces around him. “It has to be said, though, and may as well be said now. We could stop where we are. We have the Fates.”

  Cleo surged up from her slouch. “She hasn’t paid.”

  “Wait now, hear me out. We have what she wants. What she stole, what she’s killed for. And we hurt no one. Added to that, we’ve complicated her life considerably with the insurance claim and in moving those pieces from Morningside into her personal safe.”

  “She’d already committed insurance fraud,” Gideon commented. “We just upped the stakes. There’s no guarantee that she won’t slither out of it.” He laid a hand on Cleo’s thigh, felt the muscles vibrating.

  “There’s no guarantee of anything,” Malachi returned. “But we can be sure she won’t slither easily, not with those pieces tucked away in her library safe. And Jack’s put a bug in the ear of his police friend about her. There’s a good chance if we sit back, the system will work.”

  “Lew will bulldog it.” Jack forked up some pasta salad. “Security tapes will show the pieces on her claim form were still in place after the break-in. Her life won’t be a picnic while he’s on her. The insurance investigator’s going to take a really dim view of a claim in excess of two million when the client still has the merchandise.”

  “Maybe she pays a fine, does some community service. I—”

  Jack held up his fork to interrupt Cleo’s rant. “Just getting a visual of Anita in a soup kitchen. It’s not bad. Doesn’t play either, not for seven-figure fraud. Still, if we want her going all the way down, Bob has to tie her to Dubrowsky. If he can’t connect her, he can’t tie her to the murder, or to Cleo’s friend.”

  “And she’d skate,” Cleo said bitterly.

  “Yeah, but she could skate anyway. That’s where Mal’s coming from. With what we did, she gets hit with insurance fraud, does a little time, and her glossy society-widow image ends up smeared.”

  “Sometimes,” Tia said as everyone looked at her, “that sort of notoriety adds a sheen of its own.”

  “Good point,” Jack agreed. “If we follow through with the rest, we skin her financially, and maybe,” Jack said again, “we push her into making a mistake that locks it all down. There’s a lot of ifs in there. Moving forward puts it all back in the mix.”

  “Um.” Tia lifted a hand, then let it fall. “The Moerae, the Fates, prophesied when Meleager was only a week old that he would die when a brand on his mother’s hearth burned out. They sang his fate—Clotho, that he would be noble, Lachesis, that he’d be brave. And Atropus, looking at the infant, that he would live only as long as that brand was not consumed.”

  “I don’t get this,” Cleo began.

  “Let her finish,” Gideon told her.

  “Well, you see, Meleager’s mother, desperate to protect her baby, hid the brand away in a chest. If it didn’t burn out, he’d be safe. So her son grew up, and as a man, Meleager killed his mother’s brothers. In anger and grief at the slaughter, she took the brand out of the chest and burned it. So Meleager died. Avenging her brothers, she lost her son.”

  “Fine. Mikey stands for my brother, but that bitch sure as hell doesn’t stand for my kid. So what?”

  “The point is,” Tia said gently, “revenge is never free. And it never brings back what was lost. If we move forward only for revenge, the price may be too high.”

  Cleo got up. As Tia had done earlier, she walked over, circled the tables where the Fates stood. “Mikey was my friend. Gideon barely knew him, the rest of you didn’t know him at all.”

  “We know you, Cleo,” Rebecca said quietly.

  “Yeah, well. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t want revenge, and I’m willing to pay the freight for it. But what I said before, the first time we all got together at Tia’s, that still holds. I want justice more. So, we’ve got these, and we’re rich. Big fucking deal.”

  She turned her back on them. “If people just step back from what’s right, don’t stand up for a friend when it gets tough, what’s the damn point? Any one of you doesn’t want to get dragged into this, that’s cool. No harm, no foul, especially after all this. But I’m not done. I’m not done till she’s sitting in a cell cursing my name.”

  Malachi looked at his brother, nodded. Then he laid a hand over Tia’s. “The story you told, darling. There’s another meaning to it.”

  “Yes. Choice determines destiny.” She rose, walked to Cleo. “Lives circle around, intersect. Touch and bounce off each other. All we can do is our best, and follow the thread to the end. I don’t suppose justice is free either. We’ll just have to make it worth the price.”

  “Okay.” Cleo’s vision blurred with tears. “I’ve gotta . . .” She gave a helpless shrug, then walked quickly out of the room.

  “No, let me,” Tia said as Gideon started to rise. “I could use a little crying jag myself.”

  As Tia hurried after Cleo, Malachi reached for his beer. “Now that that’s settled, and we’re all on the same page more or less, I’m going to bring up other business. Of a more personal sort.” He took a deep drink to wet his throat. “The second part of a conversation we had before,” he said to Jack. “Well then. As head of the family—”

  “Head of the family?” Rebecca gave a shout of laughter. “My arse. Ma’s head of the family.”

  “She’s not here, is she?” Malachi said evenly and bristled at having his rhythm broken. “And I’m the oldest, so it falls to me to address the matter of this engagement.”

  “It’s my engagement, and none of your concern.”

  �
�Shut your mouth for five flaming minutes.”

  “I’m getting another beer,” Gideon decided. “This should be entertaining.”

  “Don’t you tell me to shut my mouth, you puffed-up, pea-brained monkey.”

  “I could’ve done this out of your presence,” Malachi reminded her, and the cool tone warned of rising temper. “And saved myself the insults and abuse. And now, I’m talking to Jack.”

  “Oh, talking to Jack, are you. And I’m to sit here with my hands folded and my head demurely bowed?” She threw a pillow at him.

  “You wouldn’t know demure if it crawled down your throat and tickled your tonsils.” He threw the pillow back, bouncing it off her head. “And after I say my piece, you can say your own. But by God, I’m saying it.”

  “Rebecca.” Jack spoke as she bared her teeth. “Why don’t you wait until he’s finished before you get pissed off?”

  “Thank you, Jack. And first I’ll say you have all the pity in my heart for the life you’ll lead with this ill-mannered, bad-tempered, violent-natured female.” Malachi narrowed his eyes as she made a grab for the jade bowl on the coffee table and Jack clamped a hand on her wrist.

  “Han dynasty. Stick with the pillows.”

  “As I was saying,” Malachi continued. “I’m aware money isn’t an issue with you, but I want it clear my sister doesn’t come to you with empty pockets. She’s a quarter interest in our business, which does well enough. Whether or not she decides to continue to work actively in that business, the quarter interest remains hers. And she’s also entitled to her share of whatever comes out of this enterprise of ours.”

  “The money doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to us,” Malachi corrected. “And it matters to Rebecca.” He lifted a brow at his sister.

  “Maybe you aren’t a complete pea brain.” And she smiled at him.

  “I’ve seen how things are between you, and I’m glad of it. For all her faults—and they are legion—we love her and want her happy. As far as the Sullivan business is concerned, you’re welcome to be as much a part of that as suits you.”

  “Nicely done, Mal.” Gideon sat on the arm of his brother’s chair, lifted his glass in toast. “Da would have been pleased with that. And so, Jack, welcome to the family.”

  “Thanks. I don’t know much about boats. Wouldn’t mind learning more.”

  “Well now.” Rebecca grinned at her brothers. “I’m just the one to teach you.”

  “We’ll talk about that.” He gave her knee a friendly pat before getting to his feet. “I’ve got one or two errands to run. I could use a hand,” he said to the other men.

  “If the three of you are going gallivanting, so am I. I’m going to drag Cleo and Tia out to look at wedding dresses. Did I mention I’m wanting a big, white wedding?”

  That stopped him. “Define ‘big.’ ”

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Gideon advised him. “She’s got that gleam in her eye.”

  It was still there three hours later when she came back loaded down with brides’ magazines, a wedding planner book Tia bought her as an engagement gift and the sexy little nightgown that had been Cleo’s gift.

  “I still say lilies will make beautiful centerpieces for the reception.”

  “Right.” Cleo winked at Tia. “They’re not just for funerals anymore.”

  “The wildflower nosegays were so charming,” Tia put in. “I can’t believe I spent all that time in a flower shop and my sinuses stayed clear. I’ve had an allergy breakthrough.”

  “What are all those red spots on your face?” Cleo asked her, then roared as Tia made a dash for the Adam mirror in Jack’s living area and did a thorough inspection for rashes or hives.

  “I don’t think that’s funny. Not one bit.”

  “You know how she likes to joke,” Rebecca commented, then glanced over toward the archway leading to the bedroom. The bags she held fell to the floor, and she was flying.

  “Ma!”

  “There’s my girl.” Eileen caught her, hugged her hard. “There’s my pretty girl.”

  “Ma. What’re you doing here? How did you get here? Oh, I missed you.”

  “What I’m doing is unpacking my things, and I got here on a plane. I missed you, too. Just let me look at you.” Eileen pulled her back, studied her face. “Happy, are you?”

  “I am, yes. Very happy.”

  “I knew he was for you when you brought him home for tea.” She sighed, pressed her lips to Rebecca’s brow while all the years whizzed by in her head. “Now, introduce me to your friends here, who I’ve already heard so much about from my boys.”

  “Tia and Cleo, my mother, Eileen Sullivan.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan.” Malachi’s mother, Tia thought, panicked. “I hope you had a pleasant flight.”

  “I felt like a queen, lolling about in first class.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long one though.” Uneasy, Cleo tugged on Tia’s sleeve. “We’ll split and let you rest up. Catch up. All that.”

  “Indeed you won’t.” Eileen’s smile was friendly, and her mind made up. “We’ll have a nice cozy pot of tea and a chat. The boys are down below doing some devious thing or the other, so we’ll take advantage of the time. Such a fine, big flat this is,” she added, glancing around. “There must be the makings for tea somewhere in it.”

  “I’ll make it,” Tia said quickly.

  “I’ll help.” Cleo nipped at her heels all the way into the kitchen. “What are we supposed to talk to her about?” she hissed. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Sullivan. We really enjoy sex with your sons when we’re not out breaking into buildings.”

  “Oh God. Oh God.” Tia put her head in her hands. “What did we come in here for?”

  “Tea.”

  “Right. I forgot. Okay.” She opened two cupboards before she remembered where she herself had stored the tea. “Well, she has to know. Oh God!” Tia opened the fridge, found an open bottle of wine. She pulled out the stopper and took a pull straight from the bottle. “She has to know something about the other. Either Malachi or Gideon would call her regularly. We know she knows about the Fates and Anita and at least some portion of the plans. As for the other . . .”

  Tia tried to calm down as she measured out tea. “They’re grown men, and she seems like a reasonable woman.”

  “Easy for you. She’s probably going to be all right with the idea of her firstborn cozied up with a published author with a Ph.D. and an apartment on the Upper East Side. But I don’t see her doing cheers when she finds out her baby boy is doing it with a stripper.”

  “That’s insulting.”

  “Well, Jesus, Tia, who could blame her? I—”

  “No, not to Mrs. Sullivan, to you.” With the tea canister still in hand, Tia turned. “You’re insulting a friend of mine, and I don’t like it. You’re brave and loyal and smart, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to apologize for.”

  “That was well said, Tia.” Eileen stepped into the kitchen and watched both women blanch. “I can see why Malachi’s so taken with you. And as for you,” she said to Cleo. “It happens I trust my baby boy’s judgment and have always admired his taste. And Mal’s, as well. I’ll start there with the both of you, and we’ll see how we get on. See that water boils full before you pour it,” she added. “Most Yanks never can get a decent pot of tea made.”

  When Jack came into the apartment thirty minutes later, he noted three things simultaneously. Tia was flustered, Cleo was stiff. And Rebecca was glowing.

  It was Rebecca who rose, slowly, walked to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, brought her mouth to his for a long, lingering kiss.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.” He kept an arm around her waist as he looked over at her mother. “Settling in all right, Eileen?”

  “Couldn’t be more comfortable, thank you, Jack. Now, I’m hearing from the three girls here that you’ve all got more plans for this woman who’s after hurting my fam
ily. I hope we can sit down and find a way I might help you out with them.”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something. According to my contact, the woman is even now combing Athens in search of a certain silver lady and a brunette.” He came over, sat across from Cleo. “She bought a gun. It was the first thing she did. It’s clear she’s hoping to track you down, and when she does, she plans to play for keeps.”

  “She’s going to be disappointed, isn’t she?”

  “And we’re going to keep her that way.” Gideon came in, Malachi behind him. And there was fury in his eyes. “Whatever plans are from this point, we’re keeping you well away from her.”

  “Hey, listen, Slick—”

  “The hell I will. She’s not planning on having a chat with you. She’s planning on getting what she’s after, then killing you. Did you tell her where she got the gun?”

  “Black market,” Jack provided. “Unregistered Glock. She was careful. She didn’t try to get a weapon through customs. Odds are she’s not planning on bringing it back through either. She hopes to get her money’s worth out of it, then ditch it.”

  “Like I said, she’s going to be disappointed.”

  “And you’re on background duty from here out,” Gideon told her. “You help Rebecca with tech, Tia with research. And you stay in this flat or Tia’s. You don’t go out alone for any reason. And if you argue with me, I’ll lock you in a closet until it’s done.”

  “Cleo, before you cosh my son, which I’m sure he deserves for any number of reasons, I’d like to say something.” Eileen sat comfortably, as she often did at her own kitchen table. “I’ve had a different view of things, as I haven’t been in the center of it. There’s a weak spot—an Achilles’ heel, you could say. That’d be apt, wouldn’t it,” Eileen said to Tia. “This woman knows your face, Cleo. She believes you’re holding something she’s already killed for. She’s focused on you now. That’ll change and shift a bit after she comes back here. But you’re the one thing she’s sure of. If she manages to get to you, she gets to all. Would that be the case, Mal?”