Finding Jessica

by Parker Riggs

  His eyebrows shot up. “What a great idea,” he said. “I’ve got lots of money, and my daughter here is a great cook.” He grinned at Veronica. In fact, he couldn’t stop grinning. “What do you think? You want to own your own restaurant?”

  “I think Heidi would have wanted it that way,” Rose said. Her voice sounded sad, but it was the exhaustion. They’d been urging her to go to bed and rest. She didn’t want to tell them, but she was afraid of having another nightmare.

  Veronica’s eyes were huge. “You’d buy Table Talk for me?”

  “Sure,” Barrington said, “but I’ll expect free meals.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Thorne smiled for the cameras. He had called his media contacts about the FBI’s pending raid on Zu-Zu, and as he knew they would, they had descended on the meatpacking district like vultures. When he stepped out of Zu-Zu, the press was waiting, trying to get pictures of Beach and his thugs and throwing questions at Thorne, the hero of the hour. He walked over to the police van, a modern-day paddy wagon for modern-day thugs, and made sure he was standing next to the door when Beach was put inside.

  He hoped William Franklin would be watching the evening news in his office in Boston. He wondered how long it would take him to pack up his things. Thorne couldn’t remember being so excited. He smiled at the ABC newswoman, who looked a little like Amber. The arrest of Sandy Beach was going to be his golden ticket. True, Operation Haven might have taken longer than it should have, but who could have anticipated Chad’s betrayal? And now look, he had Sandy Beach in custody.

  He turned to give the cameras his profile. His mother said it was his best camera angle. He had to hand it to Rhodes and Chandler. They’d set up the sting operation that nabbed Chad, even got him to confess to covering for Beach and murdering his boyfriend, and they had given him Amber on a platter.

  While the flashbulbs fired, he thought about Amber. He had been so sure she’d been growing fond of him, but on his last visit she’d cried hysterically and promised to tell him everything about Beach if he would stop coming to see her, stop giving her presents and telling her stories about his mother. He was shocked. Here was this wayward girl who would have been set forever as the wife of a decorated bureau agent, and she was turning him down. He should have listened to his mother; she’d been right all along. She really was the only woman he could trust.

  Straightening his tie, Thorne stepped up to the press microphones. It was time to let the world know that under his direction, the Federal Bureau of Investigation had hooked Sandy Beach, the mob boss behind a spree of stolen artwork from some of the finest art galleries, museums and private residences in New York and Boston. It was going to be his moment of glory, his royal bow.

  He didn’t anticipate Princess reemerging on the scene. She darted out of the darkness and raced around Thorne’s legs, snapping at his heels. A chase ensued as law enforcement scrambled to grab the mobster’s little dog. The press went wild, snapping photos and rolling film. Princess would be the highlight of the evening news.

  No one would even mention Thorne’s name.

  Epilogue

  Four days before Christmas, curled up on the couch with Cosmo, Rose put down the book she was reading. It was late, and the fire was lit, the house warm. Outside snow fell past the windows, cocooning the house. Summer was long gone, and the glorious colors of fall had stripped the trees bare to make way for winter. But Rose didn’t mind. Seasons turned, spring would melt the snow, and the flowers and trees would bloom again.

  She glanced again at the wooden box on the fireplace mantel. She’d been thinking lately that she needed to plan a trip to Italy to scatter Hal’s ashes as he’d asked her to. She could have done it in the fall, but it was hard to let go of him. She could see him standing in front of the stove in her kitchen, belting out an aria from La Traviata, guarding his pot of tomato sauce like it was gold at Fort Knox. It’s my grandma’s secret recipe, so no peeking! Italy, she thought, would be beautiful in the spring.

  Beside her Cosmo slept, his breathing soft and steady. She hadn’t noticed exactly when it had happened, but sometime over the last six months he had given up his vigil of staring out the window, waiting for Cameron to come home. Such a small act of remembrance, its ending made her a little sad. She thought of all Cameron didn’t know about Heidi. About Amber. She had a swift memory of Amber toasting marshmallows over that same fireplace last winter. She’d fooled them all. Now she was in the witness protection program with a new identity in exchange for her testimony. Ironic. For Cameron’s sake Rose had a hard time forgiving her, but she supposed she should give her some credit. It had taken guts to testify against Beach.

  Outside the furiously falling snow—five inches in the last two hours, by her best estimate—reminded her of the white rose petals in the portrait Cameron had painted of her after they were married. He had scattered the petals across her shoulders, her arms, around her bare feet. These petals, he had told her, are my love. “It’s a sign.” She leaned over and kissed Cosmo’s head. He opened his eyes and looked at her curiously. “Cameron will always be with us.” Cosmo licked her hand. Easing him out of the way, she got up to put a few more logs on the fire. As she settled back on the couch, her cell phone rang, and she was relieved to see the familiar number.

  “Just checking to make sure there were no more threats against your life,” Daniel said.

  “Don’t worry about me.” She could hear his windshield wipers beating like a metronome. “I’m armed and vigilant.” It was easy to imagine him driving home late from work to his home in Northern Virginia. He was lucky it was only raining. He didn’t like the snow.

  “You alone?” he asked.

  “Barrington and Veronica were over for dinner, celebrating, but they went home early because of the snow.”

  “Celebrating?” he asked.

  “Barrington just auctioned the original of The Peacemaker. It sold for four million.”

  Daniel whistled low.

  “He’s buying a house on the lake,” she said. “The town is so happy. Everyone adores him. But he’s ten pounds heavier.” Snow battered the windows, and the wind chimes on the deck protested in the dark. She had forgotten to take them in for the winter, and she hoped they wouldn’t get ruined. “Veronica’s outdone herself with Table Talk. She’s put together a new menu, all organic produce and grain fed meat, and she’s cooking up a storm.” The lights in the room flickered but stayed on. At least she didn’t need to worry about losing power. Cameron had installed a generator after they’d gone through a particularly bad winter. He was still watching over her.

  “So Thorne sent you and Rocky a singing Christmas card,” Daniel said. “I got your text.”

  “It has cardinals all over it.” Rose stretched. “They tweet ‘Silent Night.’”

  “I heard through the grapevine he’s gunning for Franklin’s job.”

  “He’s got a lot of nerve.” The logs settled into the flames, hissing and sparking. “As if his incompetency had nothing to do with what Chad got away with.”

  “When’s his civil court trial?”

  “May. He’ll claim the FBI never would have tracked down the broker who hired Beach or caught the buyer of the paintings if he hadn’t helped them.” Rose got up and went to the kitchen. “Even if that’s true, Thorne isn’t helping him with any kind of plea. He’s insisting Amber’s testimony against Beach was what got him locked up.” She took an open bottle of Riesling out of the refrigerator and poured a glass.

  “Yeah,” Daniel said, “and now Amber will have to spend the rest of her life sweating every time she starts her car.”

  “I just hope she doesn’t turn out like Heidi.” Rose looked at her hand. Except for a few faint scars, her body had healed. And what were a few more scars? No one would even notice. It had never occurred to her not to tell Daniel about what happened at Tibber’s Basin. She had trusted him with her life too many times not to trust him again. But she hadn’t told him yet. It would take
time. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Delores sent me a post card.” Rose went back to the couch with her wine. “She moved to Marco Island with Princess.” She took a sip, enjoying the cool, crisp taste. “She said Princess realized Sandy wasn’t coming back and started being nice to her, cuddling with her, giving her doggie kisses.”

  Daniel laughed. “A schmoozer.”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty smart.”

  “But not very loyal,” he said.

  Rose sighed. Daniel and his loyalty, the reason he had stayed in his loveless marriage. He’d taken Crystal back by the end of the summer, just as she’d known he would.

  “Hey, I forgot to tell you,” he said. “I have a present for Cosmo, but you have to promise you won’t laugh.”

  “Okay, I promise.” She set down her wine. “I won’t laugh.”

  “Good. They’re Ugg boots for dogs.”

  “You got Cosmo boots?” Cosmo suddenly sat up. He knew they were talking about him. “I’m not sure he’s a boot kind of dog.” Cosmo leapt off the couch and ran to the front door.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Daniel said.

  She thought she heard a car engine outside, the sound of tires crunching snow. “Daniel,” she said, “where are you exactly?”

  She heard a car door slam. Cosmo whined, and she got up and started toward the door.

  “Me?” Rose heard footsteps on the stairs. “I’m where I’ve always been, baby, standing on the outside.”

  It’s not possible, she thought, flicking on the front hall light. She reached for the door handle.

  “It’s kind of cold out here,” he said, “and for the record, Crystal finally agreed to a divorce.”

  Rose hesitated. If you open this door, she thought, you’ll be letting in the storm.

  “I’d really like to come inside,” Daniel said, “if you’ll only let me in.”

  Rose turned the handle and opened that door.

  Meet Author Parker Riggs

  Parker Riggs’ love of writing began as a teenager growing up in New Jersey, penning short stories and poetry. Her dream to be a published author got set aside for a career in Washington, D.C., where for two decades she supported politicians and lawyers. Yet the dream never died.

  Pursuing her passion for mysteries, Parker is the author of the mystery novel Finding Jessica and co-author of the fourth book in New York Times bestselling author Ellery Adams’ Collectible Mystery series. She is now permanently settled in New Hampshire with her husband and a lively mini-Dachshund named Pippa.