“But there’s still one last thing we need to figure out,” Skyler said carefully.
“Figure out who killed Patty. I know that.” He sighed deeply. “We need to talk to Solis again. But not today. I have a funeral to plan.”
“Gosh, I hadn’t thought about that. Why wasn’t there one for Patty?”
“Her will stated that she didn’t want one. She hated the fucking things, apparently, so she didn’t want to put people through one for her. She just wanted to fade away.”
There was a soft knock on the door and Skyler leapt up to let the room service waiter into the suite. He laid out an elegant coffee service, a basket of freshly baked croissants, an assortment of butters and jams, and two champagne flutes filled with blueberries and strawberries. She tipped the kid and they were alone again.
“This is what everyone gets here,” she said as she handed Leonard a cup of black coffee. “I could get used to this.”
“It’s almost $900 a night, Skyler. That’d be a little pricey, even for you.”
“Well, I’m not sure I can go back into my cottage. How could I ever sleep in that bedroom again? How could I ever relax in that house, knowing that both of them…”
“I understand,” he said cutting her off. He pulled her close to his body with one arm. “That’s why I traded houses with my father, and Patty didn’t even die in my place. But I just couldn’t stay there.”
“And now you own two houses in Wabanaki, I suppose.”
“Jesus, yeah. I can sell ‘em both, I guess.”
“And I can sell my cottage,” she realized. “But that would break my heart after all the work that went into making it perfect. Damn it.”
“You could put it on the short-term rental market for a while. Let it generate some money. No reason to make a rash decision. I bet you could easily get $500 a night for the house. Maybe more.”
“Take your own advice, bucko. You could do the same.”
He kissed her deeply, nearly spilling both their coffees onto the thick beige rug. He managed to get the cups down on the table and then he had both their robes off a second later. It wasn’t long before he was inside her, and not too long after that that they both came together. It wasn’t very romantic, but it did the trick and they both felt a little better.
“I wanted to do that for the last three days. I was loaded.”
“Oh gosh,” she squealed. “And, yeah, I could tell.”
They took separate showers to get ready for what would most certainly be a long, difficult day.
In the dining room on the first floor of the Inn, Brenda sat by herself at a four-top next to the stone-faced, unlit fireplace. Between sips of piping hot tea, she busied herself responding to emails and texts on her iPhone, avoiding anything that inquired about the shooting. It was all over the national news that morning—largely because of Carissa’s involvement—but they’d all made a pact the night before not to breathe a word to anyone about the whole mess…at least for the time being. Carissa had already turned down a dozen interview requests from the major television networks and newspapers.
“Ma’am?”
Brenda looked up into the gorgeous face of a man in a black suit and tie. He had an earpiece in his left ear with one of those curly grey wires attached that ran into the back of his jacket, Secret Service style. “Yes, sir?”
“I’m the lead agent of the protection team Miss Lamb ordered last night. We got here just as fast as we could from New York. I’m sorry to bother you, but I recognized you from TV.”
“Oh, that’s flattering,” she said. “Did you want an autograph or something?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, looking confused. “We’re here to guard Miss Lamb, Miss Moore, and yourself. Men are stationed outside of each of their suites now. We also have two men out front and a Suburban with a driver out back.”
She thought it was overkill, especially since Tanner was dead, but she played along. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Agent Morelli.”
“Italian,” Brenda said. “Yummy.”
“I’ll be over there,” he said, motioning to a spot near the door to the patio. “Let me know if you need anything, or see anything, although, I’ll probably see it first.”
“Buonasera,” she said, but he had already walked away. She went back to her messages. There was one that troubled her:
From: [email protected]
July 14 @ 07:17am EST
To: Brenda Braxton
Subject: We’re Pushing Up the Premiere
Brenda,
I know things must be crazy up there, but wanted to reach out to double check that you’re okay. I know you told Todd that you were fine, but if you need ANYTHING, please don’t hesitate to call me. Mean it!
Todd and the team want to push the premiere to September 2. It’s early, I know, but we want to get that Lamb episode on the air ASAP to take advantage of all the hype. Crass, maybe, but you know that all the suits think about are ratings, ratings, ratings. I’m sorry, but she’s the #1 topic online today.
That means we need to get the rest of the September episodes in the can by the middle of August, so we have time to edit and market properly. Todd wants you in the studio just as soon as you can get here. Give me a heads up about your availability and I’ll get it all rolling. I hate to cut your summer short, but I suspect you’re ready to return to Manhattan, right??
Love you so much,
--Sadie
Sadie Sydler, Segment Producer
RBT-TV East Coast
“Well, fuck you, too,” Brenda said.
“Excuse me?” Skyler pulled out a chair and sat down, followed by Leonard.
“Not you. They want me back in the studio sooner than planned. But, I guess under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get back to work.”
Skyler smiled at the waiter as he poured coffee. When he was out of earshot, she said, “How’d you sleep?”
“Who cares about me?” Brenda asked. She grabbed one of Leonard’s hands, “How are you?”
“I’m numb,” he said. “I can’t believe he’s gone. It’s like yesterday never happened. But it did. I mean, it really happened, didn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Brenda said sweetly. “It gets better, trust me. It takes time. I lost both of my parents, cousins, a million aunts and uncles. The initial phase sucks, but you get used to it and you’ll feel better. You just have to remember the good times and not dwell on the death and…” She cut herself off. “I’m talking way too much.”
“No,” Leonard said, “it’s helping. And I really appreciate you getting the rooms here for all of us. I know it’s expensive. I heard they turned people away who had reservations because of us. They must think highly of you.”
“I guess. And it’s just money. Apparently, I’m going to be making some more money real soon. I’m going to head back to New York today. I might even see if Carissa will drop the dogs and me at Teterboro. If I offer to pay the extra landing fees, she might say yes. Maybe. If she’s still talking to me, that is.”
“I’m still talking to you,” Carissa said as she joined the group. Security was now tighter than if the President of the United States had been in the restaurant; three men in black, stationed in various corners, kept their eyes on their subjects and the room. “And I’m famished.”
They each ordered the house specialty, a crab cake benedict with an avocado relish, and no one turned down the offer of mimosas. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps she really wasn’t holding a grudge against the chef for getting her mixed up in a hostage situation, but Carissa agreed to ferry Brenda and the dogs home and that made Brenda very happy.
“I’d love to explore the possibility of working together, Skyler,” Carissa said near the end of their meal. “I think we could make some beautiful music together. Perhaps we could get together in Las Vegas
sometime early in the Fall? Bring Leonard, of course.” She smiled wickedly at the cop, who was clearly uncomfortable.
“If nothing else,” Skyler said, “I’d love to see the show. Brenda went on and on about it.”
“If nothing else? Are you not considering the job?”
“Oh, yes, I am,” Skyler backtracked. “I’d be honored. And it’d be a great new challenge for me. I like those.”
Carissa seemed pleased. “Good. Then we’ll have our people set something up.” She grabbed Leonard’s hand and squeezed. “After you have time to grieve and collect your thoughts, of course. I know this is a hard time for all of you.”
“To say the least,” Leonard managed. “I’m just sorry you got mixed up in all of our craziness. This isn’t what Wabanaki is all about, I swear. The police force has never been so busy.”
An hour later in the back driveway, Skyler and Leonard said their goodbyes to Carissa, Brenda and the dogs. Their gear stowed in the Suburban and Carissa buckled into the backseat, Skyler took both of Brenda’s hands in her own.
“I love you so much,” she said. “This isn’t what I envisioned for the summer, but I’m just glad we got to spend some quality time together.”
Brenda crinkled up her face. “I love you, too, but I’m going to try to forget this July. Let’s make plans to get together soon, okay? You’re always welcome in New York. And maybe we should rendezvous in Las Vegas if you’re going to go meet with Carissa. You’ll love the resort and you haven’t seen my restaurant there.”
“Las Vegas isn’t my favorite place, but I think I could manage that.”
“And there’s Santa Fe this December, don’t forget.”
“Santa Fe, New Mexico?” Skyler asked, clearly forgetting something.
“I may not have mentioned it,” Brenda said. “I’ll be there for a food and wine festival and I’m going to be meeting with some investors about a hotel project. It’s the most beautiful place and I know you’d love it. We’ll make it our winter break.”
Skyler nodded and hugged her friend tight to her body. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Brenda said. “I’ll text you later.” And she was off.
Skyler and Leonard watched the SUV pull away and disappear down the tree-lined driveway. The rest of the black suited agents disappeared, too, now that their Wabanaki assignment had officially ended.
“What now?” Skyler asked.
“We’re flying to New York City,” Leonard said, consulting his smartphone. “Ricardo Solis and his wife just checked into something called the Plaza Hotel.”
* * *
Kristin woke up at Noon. She’d been at Skyler’s cottage dealing with the news media, forensics teams, curious neighbors, and the guys from the morgue until nearly sunrise. Despite the long night, she felt energized and ready for a new day. She also felt secure knowing that she now had the power to deal with Gerald Gains, although he didn’t know it yet.
After a quick shower, her cell phone rang.
“Officer Grant,” the Mayor said, “This is Lois Millhouse. I was wondering if you could come see me this afternoon at my house.”
“Of course, Mrs. Mayor. Is something going on over there?”
“No. All seems quiet. I have a proposal for you.”
Kristin was intrigued and she wasn’t one who was known for her patience. “Can you tell me now?”
“I want to know if you’d like to serve as head of the Wabanaki Police Department. We’ve never had a female sheriff before, and I think it’s high time, don’t you?”
Kristin was stunned but elated. She hadn’t even allowed herself to dream of such a thing. “I’d be honored, ma’am. I’m up for the challenge. But what about Leonard?”
“Trust me, Kristin,” Lois said, “Leonard Little doesn’t want it. And I wouldn’t give it to him anyway. You’re the woman for the job.”
“Well, thank you. And, again, I’m so sorry about your grandson.”
There was silence for a few seconds. “Yes. It’s going to be hard. Karen and I have some big decisions to make about Tanner and Wanda’s son Charlie. He’s too young to have any idea what just happened. But he’s going to have a grand life, I’ll see to that.”
“I have no doubt about that, Mrs. Mayor. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Kristin couldn’t erase the smile from her face as she got ready for the day. Dressed in her new uniform, she stood in front of a full-length mirror. “Sheriff Grant. I’m the Sheriff in these parts, ma’am. Sheriff Kristin Grant, at your service. Freeze, it’s the Sheriff!” Everything was about to change and she liked it.
THIRTY-THREE
Leonard couldn’t believe what he was seeing out of the taxicab window. As they sped across the bridge on the way from LaGuardia Airport to Manhattan, he marveled at the immense cityscape. He recognized some of the classic buildings from television and movies, but had never stepped foot in New York City.
“That’s the Chrysler Building there with the art-deco top,” Skyler said. “It’s one of my all-time favorites. I’m not a fan of the new World Trade Center building. That’s the big one to the far left. I’m never going inside.”
“Really? I was hoping to see the view from the top.”
“Eh. I guess I’m superstitious. It just creeps me out. I had lunch at Windows on the World in the old Twin Towers years ago. I can’t believe it’s not there anymore.” Skyler had been in Manhattan on that day in 2001, and she hated replaying it in her head. “The Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center has quite a view. We’ll go up there.”
“The building with the Saturday Night Live studio?” Leonard asked like an excited little kid.
“The very one. All of NBC’s studios are in there. Another art-deco masterpiece. You’ll get a kick out of the lobby,” Skyler said. “But aren’t we here to work?”
“Yeah. That too.”
“What’s first on the agenda after we get checked in?”
Leonard consulted his phone, but there were no answers there. “I guess we go find Solis.”
“And exactly how is he going to react when he sees us? He’s going to be very defensive and probably caught off guard.”
“That’s the goal.”
The cab pulled up to the front of The Mark hotel at Madison Avenue and 77th Street and a smartly uniformed valet opened the door. Leonard got out and admired the grand black and white lobby. “You have expensive tastes,” he said to Skyler. “I would have been fine at the Holiday Inn.”
“Bite your tongue,” Skyler said as they approached the front desk. “This is my favorite hotel in New York. You’ll love it. I have never in my life had a better night sleep than in one of the rooms here. I tried recreating their guestrooms at my place in D.C. I got close, but it’s just not the same.”
After they got settled into one of the hotel’s suites—and after an impromptu liaison on the suite’s living room couch—they decided to walk toward the Plaza Hotel. It was a gorgeous Thursday afternoon; much cooler than was usual for July. They walked down 5th Avenue with Central Park on their right. Leonard oohed and aahed the whole way, fully taking in things he’d never seen before, like horse drawn carriages and hot dog carts, which fascinated him.
“I love street hot dogs,” Skyler declared, “But I won’t ride in the carriages, so don’t get any ideas.”
“Why on Earth not? How much more romantic could it get than that?”
Skyler shook her head. “No, no, no. They don’t treat those animals very well. They live in dirty, cramped stalls down near the convention center. They stand around all day on the busy streets with exhaust fumes from the buses, and the sirens, and all the damned tourists. It’s no life for a horse. It just makes me sick.”
“I hadn’t thought about all that.”
“Most people don’t,” she said. “Listen, I’m not a big fat bleeding heart about everything, but I
just can’t stand humans who abuse or take advantage of animals who have no say so in the matter. I hate aquariums, and dolphin habitats, circuses, and performing animals in general. The list goes on and on.”
“Then I guess a trip to the Central Park Zoo is out of the question.”
“Yeah,” she said sadly. “I’d like to go…but I won’t do it. It would just make me sadder than I already am.”
They continued until they got to East 59th Street. Skyler pointed out the hotel to their right, across Grand Army Plaza. “There it is. You know Donald Trump used to own it back in the late-1980’s. But not anymore.”
“It’s really something.”
They entered the grand hotel, headed to the Champagne Bar, and found a seat by a window. Despite the ‘outrageous prices,’ as Leonard characterized them, the pair shared a plate of raw local oysters and split a Caesar salad with chicken, washed down with a few glasses of Ruinart Blanc de Blancs, a French champagne that was first established back in 1729, or so the menu stated. Leonard remarked that it was ‘really yummy,’ although he thought he could put the $31 a glass to better use.
“I’m a sucker for stuff like this,” Skyler said, “But I’m equally satisfied with a slice of real New York City pizza and a draft beer. I go both ways.”
“I kinda feel bad for enjoying myself like this,” Leonard said after slurping down an oyster in one gulp. “My father isn’t even cold yet.”
“Jesus, Leonard. But I get it. And remember, we’re not on vacation. We’re on a mission.”
“A mission with an unlimited gourmet budget, apparently. You know I saw that check-in card you signed at the hotel. $1,100 is pure ridiculousness.”
She sighed. “I have my New York budget and I have my budget for other places. I’m not against staying at moderately priced hotels from time to time, but since I can afford The Mark, and I love it, that’s where I stay. And I just couldn’t impose upon Brenda so soon after she got back to town. She has so much on her plate. Plus, she only has the one bedroom.”
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