by Beverly Bird
Tara stepped into the office. “Can I close this door?”
“If you have to.”
“I have to.” Tara shut the door on Fox’s voice.
“—shy sort,” she heard him say.
Tara flew into motion, moving around the office. Her heart was slamming. The dog’s voice started rumbling. “Don’t you dare start making noise now,” Tara warned.
She put Belle down. The dog trotted over to the desk. She put her paws against the center drawer and stood.
“Well, that makes sense. It’s as good a place as any to start looking.” Unfortunately, she had no idea what she was looking for.
She just had a…feeling, Tara thought. Acosta had seemed a little too confident that he could find them a big, red rock worth five and a half million and he didn’t seem to think it would take him all that long. How many rubies like that existed in this world? She pulled open the man’s desk drawer and began to rifle through it.
Nothing. Then her gaze fell on the calendar atop the man’s desk. At eight o’clock on December 25th, there was handwriting—162 Court St, Bos, $5.2, stone = cash. The word cash was underlined.
“Stone,” Tara whispered. One stone! And they’d just offered him more than five point two million. Blindly, by pure luck, they’d offered him more.
“Darlin’? Are you alright in there?” It was Fox’s voice at the door.
Tara tore the page from the calendar and jammed it into her jeans pocket. She ran over to the bathroom and opened the door, letting it crack back solidly against the wall. “What? Did you call me, sweetheart?”
“I said, are you all right?”
She scooped up Belle again and held her close, then she went back to the office door and opened it. She wondered if her smile trembled as much as she thought it did. “Actually, I don’t feel very well.”
Fox frowned. “You’re sick?”
“Maybe I ate too much lamb last night.”
“You didn’t—” He broke off at the fierce glare in her eyes. What the hell had she done? “Okay. You ate too much lamb.”
“I told you it didn’t agree with me. Sweetheart.”
“Do you want to go back to the hotel and lie down?”
“I think that would be best.”
“You do.”
“Yes.”
It scared the hell out of him. Fox looked at Acosta. “You’ll call if you find anything for us?”
The man nodded. “I think I know where I might get something like what you have in mind.”
“Okay, then. Thanks.” Fox grabbed Tara’s arm and propelled her out of the room. He didn’t let her go until they were out on the street. “What did you just do?”
Tara’s gaze flew wildly up and down the street. She saw a Japanese restaurant on the corner. It was open. “Let’s go there.”
“Where?”
She pointed. “Fusilli. Over there on the corner.”
Fox looked. “What kind of name is Fusilli for a Japanese restaurant?”
“Do we care? We have to get away from here! Now!”
“What did you do?” he demanded again.
“I’ll tell you over sushi.”
She started walking without him. Fox moved to catch up with her. “No matter what I said after seeing Liam yesterday, you went ahead and did something, didn’t you? The hell with me being the cop and you being the civilian, you just took the bull by the horns, didn’t you? Damn it, Tara!”
“You’re swearing again.”
“I’m near ready to choke you!”
“Maybe you should be asking what you didn’t do.” She marched onward. “Where in the devil is 915 Liberty Lane? Tell me that!”
It was the address he’d given Acosta. Fox’s blood went from simmer to boil. “It’s a safe house. In Philadelphia. The city owns it but the phone and address there are untraceable.” He saw the first flicker of doubt cross her face. “If Acosta calls there a recorded message will pick up. I’ll call him back and maybe we’ll find your ruby.”
“I think I found it anyway.”
“What?”
“Would you please come into the restaurant now?”
Fox looked back at the jewelry store and had the sudden conviction that going into the restaurant might be a very good thing to do after all.
They reached the corner and he shoved the door hard with his shoulder, then he held out an exaggeratedly polite hand and gestured her to enter. Tara sniffed and brushed past him. He watched her sail to a table. There’d been whole moments last night when he’d had the wild idea that he was falling in love with her. But how the hell could he love a woman with more spine than a porcupine? With more guts than the average Samurai wrestler? With more courage than…
His mind broke off and went blank. He watched her lay a piece of paper carefully on top of the table she’d chosen.
Fox followed her and picked it up as he sat. It was a page from a calendar. Along about eight o’clock tonight, it said 162 Court St, Bos, $5.2, stone = cash.
He was a hard man to alarm. He’d seen it all over the years. Mankind was cruel and people were greedy. They killed, they hurt children, they poured drugs into their own veins. He didn’t like it but he was okay with it because he knew he was smarter, stronger, more capable than most any thug he might meet. But now his hands were shaking.
“Where did this come from?” he asked too quietly.
“Acosta’s calendar.”
“Acosta’s calendar?”
“I should have copied it down, right, instead of just taking it? I’m sorry. But you called me and I panicked. I just grabbed it.”
“You grabbed it.”
“I tore it from his calendar.”
“And just what…” Fox paused to draw breath. “What do you imagine he’ll think when he discovers it missing?”
“Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he won’t look. Maybe after we left, he just went home. It’s Christmas,” she added feebly.
“He met us at two o’clock on Christmas afternoon! It seems like a pretty damned good guess that he doesn’t care too much about the holiday!”
Tara flinched back from his temper. “Okay, okay, maybe I made a mistake.”
“Maybe?”
“All right, I did. So fix it.”
His eyes went wild.
“Well, you’re the cop! Do something!”
“Now she remembers.” All he could do, Fox realized, was get her the hell out of Dodge as quickly as humanly possible. “Acosta’s got organized crime connections. We’re as good as dead.”
He watched her blood drain from her face. “Don’t get melodramatic.”
“Darlin’, I’m not.”
Something cold as ice speared into her soul.
Fox dug in his wallet for some money as a waitress bore down on them with her eyes pinned on Belle. He passed her a fifty. “She’s part of the family. It’s Christmas. Please let her stay.”
The woman looked at the bill in her hand, nodded, and backed away. Tara grabbed Belle, ignoring her little nipping mouth, and squashed her down on her lap.
“That dog just cost me money,” Fox said, “and no way is the Department going to reimburse me for it.”
“I’d offer to pay you back but I’m a little broke at the moment. I just agreed to pay five and a half million to get my own ruby back.”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have that kind of money. Do you?”
She hesitated warily. “Why?”
“I just like to know what I’m getting into. Like how much more wealthy you are than I am. It’s a macho Southern thing. It’s bred into our genes to be the breadwinner.” He paused. “So do you? Have that kind of money?”
Breadwinner? Her heart slugged at the implications of that. “No. My mother left me some money—a lot of it, actually—but I spent a great deal of it fighting Stephen.”
“Thank God for that.”
“But I can get it,” she added. “That kind of money.”
His temper unleashed agai
n. “You won’t have to buy it from Acosta! We’re not actually going to buy the damned thing! We were setting him up!”
Her mouth thinned with determination. “I will if I have to. I’ll buy it if it’s the only way I can get it back.”
“Well, it’s not the only way since you’ve developed sticky fingers. Come on. It looks like we’re off to 162 Court Street, Boston.”
Everything went out of her. Tara thought she might actually cry again. “Thank you.”
“Save it until I’m sure we’ll live through this.” He looked at the torn calendar page again. “Stone equals cash,” he read aloud. What else could it be? Acosta was going to move a single gem tonight for 5.2 million dollars. And he was going to make a special trip to Boston to do it. He’d said he thought he knew where he could lay his hands on the kind of gem they’d described.
Fox laid his badge on the table to forestall any histrionics, took his gun out of his shoulder holster, and checked to make sure it was as loaded as nature and the mechanical wonders of mankind could make it.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter 16
They made it in and out of the Marsden apartment in ten minutes flat, gathering the few belongings they’d left there. By four o’clock they were back at Fusilli, waiting and watching the storefront.
“What if we missed him?” Tara fretted. “What if he left before we got back?”
“If we don’t see him leave by five I’ll call the store. If he doesn’t answer we’ll go to 162 Court Street in Boston and we’ll pick him up there. But I’d rather tail him to be absolutely sure we don’t lose him.”
He was so calm, Tara thought, though this was probably the last thing he had envisioned he’d be doing on Christmas night. Something quickened in the area of her chest, stopping her breath short. She preferred to think it was gratitude. She did not want to examine how deep her feelings for him were starting to go.
“What about Connie?” she asked. “You told her you’d call on Christmas.”
Fox realized that he hadn’t thought about his family since he’d been scouring the city last night for the odds and ends he’d need to give Tara a Christmas. “They’ll figure out that I got tied up on the case.”
She wasn’t prepared for the spasm that came to her heart when she considered that if the woman really was his sister, then he would just take out his cell phone and do it. Then, like cosmic intervention, it rang. He dug it out of his pocket.
“Fox Whittington.”
“It’s a woman!” Brigid’s voice sang through the connection. “That’s why you’re not here!”
Fox grinned. He spoke to her so rarely. “Merry Christmas to you, too, baby.”
Across the table, Tara jolted visibly.
“It can’t be another promotion,” Brigid said. “That would make you—what, a captain?”
Fox chuckled. “Not even close.”
“Who is she?”
“My case?” He looked across the table at Tara and winked at her.
Her heart stopped. Who was on the other end of the phone?
“Is that what they call it in America these days?” Brigid asked. “I’ve been out of the country awhile. So tell me everything about her.”
He was not a stupid man. It was a mine field he wouldn’t cross when the subject matter was sitting directly across from him watching him with wary and suspicious eyes. Fox handed the phone to Tara. “She wants to speak to you.”
“Who?” She reared back against her seat.
“It’s Brigid.”
“The monsoon chaser?”
“That’s the one. She’s the youngest.”
Tara took the phone warily. “Hello?”
“Break his heart and I’ll come to Philadelphia personally and tear you apart.”
Shock seized her throat. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, my God! You’re a Yankee!”
“What?”
“You said pardon.” She made the consonants hard and flat.
“What was I supposed to say?” Tara asked, startled.
“Pah-don.”
“I can’t do that.”
Tara heard laughter in the woman’s voice, easy and sultry and unperturbed like her brother’s. Apparently, they didn’t breed type A personalities in Georgia.
“By the way,” Brigid asked, “what’s your name?”
She caught herself back from her musings. “Tara.”
“No kidding! That’ll work.”
Tara passed the phone dazedly back to Fox. “She likes my name.”
“It worked for Scarlet.” He took the phone back, spoke for a few minutes, then disconnected. “It’s not everyone who can hold their own in a conversation with Brigid.”
“Did I just do that?”
“I believe so.”
“Wow.” Then she added, “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to ask her about Cornelius,” she joked.
His tea didn’t go down quite right. Fox coughed. “I doubt if Brigid even remembers him.”
“Her brother? How could she forget a brother?”
“She chases storms for a living. She lost a good deal of her memory in a tornado in Wichita.”
Tara laughed then instantly sobered again as her heart shifted. She was going to miss him so much when this was over.
She was trying to figure out why she felt so sure she wouldn’t be seeing him again once they got the ruby back when Petro Acosta walked into the restaurant. She saw him out of the corner of her eye. Tara dove instinctively. She went flat on the booth seat, the dog in her arms.
Fox didn’t move, but after a moment she heard his voice. “Come on, lovebird. Sit up and look at me with adoration in your eyes.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m just playing the odds that he hasn’t noticed his calendar page is missing yet. And if that fails, maybe he won’t look our way.”
Tara eased up again. Acosta was standing at the cash register. He turned and caught sight of them, seeming only mildly surprised.
Tara jerked around again to face Fox. “Is he armed?” Her voice was a squeak.
“Not that I can tell. But I wouldn’t expect him to stroll in brandishing an Uzi.” He paused. “He’s leaving. You must have an angel sitting on your shoulder.”
Belle barked. Tara muzzled her again. She looked in time to see Acosta depart carrying a bag of take-out.
“That ought to make you think twice before you swipe anything from a man’s office again. If you pull this in Boston I’m leaving you there.” He looked at his watch. “My guess is that he’s going to have some dinner then head out.”
“So we’ve got…what? An hour to kill?”
“That would be my guess. Are you hungry?”
Tara looked at the buffet in the middle of the room. Everything that had transpired had left her stomach feeling unsettled. “No.”
“Then scoot on over here to my side of the booth and kiss me.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“In case he comes back.”
“Petro Acosta? Are you serious?”
“Maybe he forgot his teriyaki sauce.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “Try again.”
He considered for a moment. “Darlin’, I’m about to buy you a five and a half million dollar ruby. I want something to show for it.”
The next thing she knew, he’d moved and was on the seat beside her. She pulled her head back. “If you’re thinking about a reprise of last night, let me remind you we’re in public.”
“Well, I am thinking about a reprise of last night. But I’m a patient man. I’ll take my good, sweet time getting there.” And his mouth found hers.
She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this. They were in a restaurant! His tongue teased hers and she met it. “Stop it,” she said against his mouth, but halfheartedly.
“You do things to me. Did I mention that?”
“You’re everything I never wanted in a woman.”
She choked.
“And I’m loving it.” Then he pulled back from her fast, his eyes on the window.
“What?” she asked, feeling dazed.
“That didn’t take long. Mr. Acosta seems a bit impatient to make Boston.”
Tara whipped around and saw the man leaving his store, but her mind got stuck. “You just kissed me with your eyes open.” How else would he have noticed Acosta?
“Well, I wouldn’t ordinarily. These are extenuating circumstances. Otherwise, the man could have been eating a hot dog in Fenway Park and we’d still be here nibbling on each other.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach as it tried to somersault. He did have a way with words.
When she looked back, Fox was on his feet with his keys in his hand. They watched the man head for the narrow parking lot beside his store.
“Catch the dog,” Fox said.
Belle was pacing around the buffet. Tara let out a quiet cry, jumped to her feet, and grabbed her. Fox went as far as the door and stopped, holding a hand out to keep her back as well. Tara peeked over his shoulder.
Acosta went to a white Cadillac she’d noticed earlier. He got in and a moment later, he turned the car north.
“On the count of ten, let’s go,” Fox said.
“Why ten? We’ll lose him!”
“My way this time, darlin’. My way.” He gave her a look that had her choking back anything else she might have said.
He counted down then he pushed the door open and they jogged to the restaurant’s parking area. Tara scrambled into the Mustang. She tossed the dog into the back seat and fastened her seat belt. Belle yelped and Fox drove.
“How long to Boston?” Tara asked.
“Three hours. Maybe three and a half if he’s a poke behind the wheel.”
The Cadillac was gone. “What are you—” Then she swallowed the question. He’d made a few quick turns and now, somehow, the car was ahead of them again.
Fox eased back on the gas until they were a block and a half behind. “Rest a spell, darlin’. Think a sweet thought of me while I get us there.”
The turmoil in her stomach tangled even more. He said it so mildly—that was his way—but she wondered how much he meant it.