“Who told you? Can you trust the source?”
He shrugged and smiled. “You tell me. The Don himself called my brother, gave him a phone number, and said that I should call him.”
“And it was him? You’re sure?”
“No mistaking that voice.”
“Did he . . . did he tell you why the hit was removed?”
Tony’s dry little laugh said yes, and he shook his head. “That crazy, ditzy woman . . . that terrible, wonderful mother of yours . . . Brandy, she gave me my life back.”
I sighed, but I was smiling. “She’ll be incorrigible now.”
“Now? What has she been, up to this point?”
We had been just inside the doorway during this exchange, and Sushi was jumping at Tony’s legs. He picked her up, holding her in one big hand, and we all went over to settle on the couch.
I asked, “So what’s next?”
“Well, you’re next. Obviously.” Tony had one arm around me, his free hand petting Sushi. “But beyond that, I honestly haven’t had time to think about it.”
“Would you come back to Serenity?”
“Try to stop me.”
“Back on the force?”
He nodded. “Yes. I think they’ll have me. Maybe not as chief, but they’ll find something, and if not, there are other jobs.”
“Tony?”
“Hmmmm . . . ?” He was kissing my neck.
“I don’t know if I can promise you right now that we’ll always be together . . . much as I hope we will be.”
He pulled back to study me. “Honey, I understand. When I had to go into WITSEC, we were just getting to know each other.”
“Then let’s get to know each other some more,” I said, and kissed him.
At noon on Thursday, Mother and I had a delightful meal at a French restaurant with our editor, who had heard about the murders, and knew we were involved in the inquiry but not to what extent. Most of what Mother and I did, for good and ill, had been kept out of the media, much to Mother’s annoyance.
“Well, I think that’s fine,” our editor said. “That means you can save the full story for the book.”
Which we have.
After lunch, Mother and I returned to our suite to pack and gather our things, and generally prepare for our long drive back to Serenity in our new old Caddy. Sushi, no doubt homesick for her own patch of grass, began running in circles with excitement as soon as we dragged out the suitcases.
Soon we were bidding New York good-bye, with me behind the wheel of the Caddy, Mother riding shotgun, and Sushi snuggled in back on our coats, our luggage and parcels stowed in the car’s spacious trunk. The vehicle drove like a boat, but a smooth-sailing one. I had to admit that I loved the feel of the massive ride.
As we tooled along the city streets, making our way toward the Lincoln Tunnel, we garnered looks of envy and admiration from pedestrians and drivers alike.
We had been on the road several hours, having just passed through Parsippany on Interstate 80 (after stopping for fuel—holy mileage, Batman, what a gas guzzler!), when Mother’s cell phone chirped its “New York, New York.”
“Vivian here. Oh, hello, Phil darling!” Then, to me, “It’s Phillip Dean, dear.”
I had gathered as much, from her fake Hollywood voice.
Phil Dean was a Los Angeles reality show cameraman-turned-producer who had, for the past few months, been pitching a new series for us: Antiques Sleuths, a mother–daughter duo who not only solved mysteries in real life, but told viewers the stories behind the curious items that found their way into the Trash ‘n’ Treasures shop.
Mother was asking him, “Any news?” Then, “Oh, my goodness! Oh, that’s wonderful! Yes . . . yes . . . I’ll call you as soon as we arrive home, daah-ling! Ciao!” She ended the call.
“Bad news?” I asked.
“Dear, we’ve been green-lighted! Or is that lit? Anyway, the shooting of our pilot is a go go go!”
“When?”
“Early this summer.”
“That’s great.”
Mother didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm as she launched into a monologue of kooky ideas for the series that she was already convinced would follow.
Was it so terrible of me to just want to go home to a little peace and quiet and a lot of Tony?
I glanced over at Mother, jabbering on with elation.
A warmth flowed through me. I really did love this crazy old broad. I owed her so much....
So I drove and listened with rapt attention and unflagging interest, matching her clown’s smile with my own.
And why not? I could afford to be magnanimous. Because I felt confident that any pilot starring Vivian and Brandy Borne would never get picked up by a cable network.
Would it?
A Trash ‘n’ Treasures Tip
At a recent auction, a 1938 Action Comics featuring the first appearance of Superman sold for one million dollars. So, Grandma, Grandpa . . . back when you were parents? If you cleaned out your kid’s room and tossed out that funny book, you have no one to blame but yourself that a life of luxury has eluded you and your loved ones.
About the Authors
BARBARA ALLAN
is a joint pseudonym of husband-and-wife mystery writers Barbara and Max Allan Collins.
BARBARA COLLINS is a highly respected short story writer in the mystery field, with appearances in over a dozen top anthologies, including Murder Most Delicious, Women on the Edge, Deadly Housewives, and the bestselling Cat Crimes series. She was the co-editor of (and a contributor to) the best-selling anthology Lethal Ladies, and her stories were selected for inclusion in the first three volumes of The Year’s 25 Finest Crime and Mystery Stories .
Two acclaimed hardcover collections of her work have been published: Too Many Tomcats and (with her husband) Murder—His and Hers. The Collins’ first novel together, the Baby Boomer thriller Regeneration, was a paperback bestseller; their second collaborative novel, Bombshell—in which Marilyn Monroe saves the world from World War III—was published in hardcover to excellent reviews.
Barbara has been the production manager and/or line producer on various independent film projects emanating from the production company she and her husband jointly run.
MAX ALLAN COLLINS has been hailed as “the Renaissance man of mystery fiction.” He has earned an unprecedented nineteen Private Eye Writers of America “Shamus” nominations for his Nathan Heller historical thrillers, winning for True Detective (1983) and Stolen Away (1991).
His other credits include film criticism, short fiction, songwriting, trading-card sets, and movie/TV tie-in novels, including the New York Times bestsellers Saving Private Ryan and the Scribe Award–winning American Gangster. His graphic novel Road to Perdition, considered a classic of the form, is the basis of the Academy Award–winning film. Max’s other comics credits include the “Dick Tracy” syndicated strip; his own “Ms. Tree”; “Batman”; and “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation,” based on the hit TV series, for which he has also written six video games and ten best-selling novels.
An acclaimed, award-winning filmmaker in the Midwest, he wrote and directed the Lifetime movie Mommy (1996) and three other features. His produced screenplays include the 1995 HBO World Premiere The Expert, and The Last Lullaby (2008). His 1998 documentary Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane appears on the Criterion Collection release of acclaimed film noir Kiss Me Deadly.
Max’s most recent novels include Ask Not (the conclusion to his Nate Heller “JFK Trilogy”) and Complex 90 (completing an unfinished Mike Hammer novel from the late Mickey Spillane’s files).
“BARBARA ALLAN” live(s) in Muscatine, Iowa, their Serenity-esque hometown. Son Nathan works as a translator of Japanese to English, with credits ranging from video games to novels.
Credit: Bamford Studio
Barbara Allan is the joint pseudonym of acclaimed short story writer Barbara Collins (Too Many Tomcats) and New York Times bestselling mystery novelist Max Allan Col
lins (Road to Perdition). Their previous collaborations have included one son, a short story collection, and nine novels, including the 2008 winner of the Romantic Times Toby Bromberg Award for Most Humorous Mystery, Antiques Flee Market. They live in Iowa in a house filled with trash and treasures. Learn more about them at www.maxallancollins.com and www.barbaraallan.com.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2014 by Max Allan Collins and Barbara Collins
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2013920822
ISBN: 978-0-7582-6364-3
First Kensington Hardcover Edition: May 2014
eISBN-13: 978-1-61773-284-3
eISBN-10: 1-61773-284-2
First Kensington Electronic Edition: May 2014
8 Antiques Con Page 21