She stared up at him, her emotions jumbling in a mass of confusion at her center.
“You want to know what I want you to do? Is that what you’re asking?”
“I want to know what I can do—”
“You can grow warts on your face and you… you… you can gain a lot of weight and go bald and smell odd so that every time I see you, I don’t feel like this. You can be a horrible, petty, evil person, so that when I go to sleep at night alone—and it’s always alone—I don’t feel that cold hollowness in my gut because you’re not there. You can… not be you, but you are you and I…”
She trailed off, having no idea where she was going to go with that last bit. The fact was, he was Nick, and he’d always be Nick, and nothing was ever going to change what he did to her.
He took a step toward her and touched her elbow, and it hurt. Everything about him hurt right now—the sincerity in his eyes, the honest contrition that radiated off him, making it really hard for her to feel justified in her anger. All she wanted was to not be around him for a while.
“I need some air,” she said, pushing him lightly out of her way as she darted past him and out of the kitchen.
This time, she heard no sounds of his following her.
Fourteen
Finn spotted Toby as soon as he turned the corner onto Fifty-first Street. The guy was maybe five-foot-eight standing on a curb, unremarkable in every way, which made him the perfect accomplice. So innocent and ordinary that even when people remembered him at the scene of the crime—and that had happened once or twice—they never associated him with the bird theft.
Toby took a long drag off a cigarette as he leaned on one of Chez Animaux signature white vans, which had vague markings on the side that could either be a French poodle or the black mark of death, depending on which side of the Rorschach test you woke up on. Finn held out his hand for a smoke as he approached. Toby flicked his wrist, and a cigarette jumped out of the pack. Finn grabbed it, lit, and inhaled before speaking.
“What’s the outlook?”
Toby jerked his chin indicating Mrs. McGregor’s penthouse.
“Been dark since I got here, which was around ten, so I’m guessing no one’s home. You want me to call up and see?”
“No,” Finn said. If McGregor got the cops involved—slim chance, since his research informed him that Kakapos were illegal anywhere outside the conservation habitat, but still—Finn didn’t want to have a call traceable to him at this time of night. This was the big job, the final score, the last time he’d ever have to deal with a bird for money. Fucking it up was not an option.
Toby opened the passenger-side door of the van and pulled out a blue jacket with CHEZ ANIMAUX embroidered on the front, then tossed it at Finn. Finn peered into the van and saw a large bag of exotic bird food sitting on the front seat.
“You know the drill?” Finn asked.
Toby rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I go to the front door with the food. I make a distraction. You sneak in. Same as every other time.” Toby pulled out a chunk of pink chewing gum and grinned. “I’ve got a new bit.”
Finn put the cap on his head and gave Toby a dubious look. “Can’t you just do a job without making a big production out of everything?”
“Look, man. You’re the thief here. I’m an actor. You hired me to play a role, I’m gonna play it.” Toby popped the gum in his mouth. “Epileptic Fit with a side of Choking on Bubble Gum. It’s gonna be great. Too bad you’ll miss it.”
Finn shook his head, shrugged into the jacket. “Whatever, man.”
“Why? What’s the matter with Epileptic Fit?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s a good bit,” Toby said.
“Whatever.”
Toby smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, it’s great. Check it out.” He twitched from his shoulder, rolled his eyes back in his head, jerked his arms around a bit, made choking sounds, then smiled and cracked his gum. “See? Good, huh?”
Finn sucked down the last of his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground. “It’s just a little obvious. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Hmmm.” Toby blew a big bubble and popped it, sucking the gum back into his mouth. “Fuck it. I like it. I’m going with it.”
“Look, man, I don’t care if you do the first act of Hamlet, just get the doorman out that front door. Got it?”
Toby grinned. “Got it.”
“Good. Give me the sack.”
Toby reached into the van and pulled out a canvas bag, handing it to Finn. Finn held his hand out. Toby stared at him blankly.
“What?”
“Keys.”
“But I signed the van out.”
“Yeah, and I’m not gonna be taking the subway with the bird when the doorman calls the paramedics and has your epileptic ass hauled off to the hospital.”
“Fine, just bring it back first thing in the morning. I don’t want to get a call from Greeley chewing my ass out.” Toby dug into his pocket and handed over the keys. Finn started to cross the street.
“Hey, asshole,” Toby called.
“What?” Finn said.
“Actors Guild rules, man. I get paid up front.”
Finn watched Toby for a minute, then dug in his pocket for his cash.
“You know, it’s a shame how people can’t trust each other anymore,” he said, peeling five hundred-dollar bills off the small wad of cash in his hand. “Sign of a society in trouble.”
***
Nick looked through the sliding glass door and watched as Dana leaned against the wrought-iron railing that lined the terrace. He clenched her white down jacket in his hands. She’d been out there for fifteen minutes in just a T-shirt and jeans. He knew he should give her more time, but the thought of her being cold was making him feel even worse than he already did. He slowly slid the door open and walked out to stand behind her.
“I thought you might be cold,” he said, touching the jacket to her arm. She glanced at it, but didn’t make a move to take it, just turned to look back down at the street. Nick moved closer and draped the coat over the terrace railing, internally debating whether he should go or stay when she finally spoke.
“Something’s going on down there,” she said.
Nick moved next to her and glanced down at the street. In the middle of a small crowd on the sidewalk, it looked like a guy was having some kind of a seizure.
“Think we should call 911?” Dana asked flatly.
Nick could see the doorman pushing his way into the crowd. “I’m sure someone already has.”
Dana nodded. “I figured it out.”
“Hmmm?” he said, for a moment thinking she was talking about the guy on the sidewalk.
“Why I’m so upset,” she said. “I figured it out.”
He felt his stomach tighten, but didn’t say anything.
“That day,” she went on, her eyes focused on some spot out in the distance, “when I went into that church and said what I said, I would have sawed off my right arm if it meant hurting you even a little bit less.”
“I know,” Nick said quietly.
She turned to look at him. “Hurting you has kept me up nights for six years. Not having you with me, not seeing you, not being able to run to you when my life is in the shitter—all of that was bad, but hurting you was the worst of it.” She paused for a moment, shook her head, and looked back out over the city. “Apparently, hurting me wasn’t a problem for you. Seems more like the endgame.”
“At first, yeah,” he said, resting one elbow on the railing as he leaned closer to her. “But it’s not like that now. I need you to know that. I’d give anything to be able to go back and do it differently.”
She glanced up at him. “Yeah? What would you do?”
“I don’t know. I would have told you about Melanie right away. I would have talked to you more, tried to get you to trust me.”
“Trust you?” she said, turning to face him. “I trusted you.”
He m
et her eye. “Then why did you run out?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t you hear me? At all? Any of those nights I woke up crying, panicked over marriage—”
Nick pushed up off the railing. “Yeah, because you thought I’d let you down, that I couldn’t be… I don’t know. Marriage material.”
“No, Nick…” She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them again and looked up at Nick, her expression tired. “It’s all six years old, and I don’t want to fight about it. It’s over. It’s done. We both screwed up, and there’s nothing either of us can do to change that. Can we just let it go? It was so nice before when we were friends again. I really need that right now.”
Nick smiled and brushed some curls away from her shoulder.
“You got it,” he said, then waited a few moments before speaking again. “So… are we okay?”
“Well, I’m not likely to kill you in your sleep. That’s an improvement over five minutes ago.” She sighed. “I just want to get Mom home safely and worry about the rest of it later. Do you think we can do that?”
“Yeah. We can.” He grabbed her coat and placed it over her shoulders, rubbing her back a bit before pulling his hand away. “Maybe we should go inside.”
She didn’t move. “Maybe.”
He reached up with one hand and put his fingers in the silky curls behind her ears, cradling her head in his hand. It fit so perfectly there; always had. She smiled up at him, full lips parting just a touch to reveal those crooked teeth, and the last of his resolve melted away. He lowered his head toward hers, his lips brushing hers lightly.
“Diz,” he said. He could feel her breath mingling with his, and he moved closer, pushing her back against the wall, bending his knees to her level as he pressed against her. She moaned into his mouth, and he closed his lips down on hers, breathing in the heady mix of sweetness and spice that was Dana. Only Dana.
He felt her arms wrap around him, one hand curling around the back of his neck and up into his hair, the other snaking under his jacket, running up his chest. He cradled her face in his hands and gently pulled her lower lip between his teeth. She moaned again.
More.
Her hand moved from his neck, moving slowly downward.
Oh. God.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her with force this time. She pushed back.
Not yet.
Nick pulled back to catch his breath. He opened his eyes, and there she was, eyes half-closed, warm breath floating over her plump, red lips…
So beautiful.
She pulled him in for another kiss. She was so good, felt so good…
Not until she knows everything.
He unclenched his fingers, pulling them away from the silkiness of her hair, feeling like his heart was being pulled out of his chest as he did it.
Dana opened her eyes and looked up at him. Now was definitely not the time to tell her the whole story about the move to California, but if he let things go too far before that, she might never forgive him. If he could just hold off until tomorrow, until Babs was home safe, until he’d called Melanie and told her their deal was off…
“Are you okay?” she said, her eyes starting to show concern. He smiled down at her and touched her face, so soft under his fingers.
There was no way in hell he was going to screw this up now.
“I’m great,” he said, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he almost didn’t hear the sound of movement coming from inside the penthouse.
“What was that?”
He turned around, his body blocking hers as he looked out from behind the potted tree. A guy with spiked red hair and a blue jacket carried a canvas bag right past them, his head swaying back and forth as he scanned the terrace.
“Nick?” Dana whispered.
“Shhhh.” Nick reached behind him, found Dana’s hand, and squeezed it. The guy glanced into the shadowy corner where they stood. Nick held his breath. The guy moved on. Nick released Dana’s hand and felt her grab at his back as he moved forward. He looked at her, willing her to be still and stay out of the way. She read his face and let go. Nick silently moved out from behind the tree.
“All right, bird,” the guy said in a soothing voice, opening the canvas bag in his hand as he approached the birdcage. “Let’s take this nice and slow, okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine.”
It was dark, but based on voice and movement, Nick figured the guy to be a little younger, mid-twenties or so. He moved quietly, cautiously, like someone with some experience in the area of breaking and entering. He was a bit shorter than Nick, but Nick had had his ass kicked by enough shorter guys to know that didn’t mean much. Nick glanced around for a weapon, but froze where he was when the guy suddenly stopped and sniffed in the air.
“Oh. Crap.” The guy raised one arm, sniffed underneath, shrugged, then looked to the bird. “That you, bird? Hell. No wonder you’re almost extinct.”
Nick was about three feet behind him. If he caught the guy by surprise, he might be able to take him out with one punch. Just then Horshack let loose with a screech to wake the dead. The guy jumped up and cursed.
“What the—?” he said.
Nick closed the distance between them. Now or never.
“Kinda takes you by surprise, doesn’t it?”
The guy spun around. Nick pulled his arm back and put everything he had into the punch, catching the guy on the jaw. The guy went down on the paved stone floor with a thud, narrowly missing the bird, which gave a short screech and flapped its wings as it skittered around its cage.
“Oh, my God.” Dana ran out from behind the tree and stood by Nick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. The guy, however, wasn’t looking so good; the crack he’d taken to the head when he fell had been a hard one. Nick knelt down, using his left hand to feel for a pulse in the intruder’s neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the heartbeat, full and strong.
He looked up at Dana, who was watching him, her eyes wide and frightened.
“It’s okay,” he said. “He’s okay. We’re gonna need to secure him before he wakes up, though.”
“Does he have a gun?”
Nick went through the guy’s pockets. Set of keys. Pack of cigarettes. Lighter. Some money…
“No gun.”
Dana moved closer, staring down at the guy. “Who is he?”
Nick straightened up and brushed off his jeans. “Bird thief, I’m guessing.”
“Do you think he knows anything about Mom?”
Nick shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“What do we do?”
“You ever play good-cop, bad-cop?”
Dana met his eye, and they both let out a little chuckle.
“I didn’t mean that way,” Nick said. The guy grunted at Nick’s feet, bringing his attention back to the problem at hand.
“We’re gonna have to move fast,” he said, then jerked his chin toward the penthouse. “Babs should have something we can secure him with in the laundry room.”
Dana blinked, as though tom from a train of thought, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go check.”
Nick smiled. “Great. Thanks.”
Dana took a step backward, her eyes still on Nick, then turned and went into the penthouse. Nick watched her go. There was a small squeak down at his feet. He looked down and saw Horshack nipping lightly at the bars of his cage.
“Excellent timing, Horshack,” he said. “Maybe you can rub some of that off on me, huh?”
Horshack gave a tiny squawk that sounded like the bird version of, “Fat chance.”
Fifteen
When Finn’s consciousness began to ebb back in, the first thing he noticed was a stiffness in his jaw. Then, the weight of his head, which felt heavier than usual. He pulled his chin up slowly from where it had been digging into his chest and groaned. He was sore as hell. He tried to reach up to rub it with his hand, but couldn’t move his arm. He opened his eyes and saw that his arm was du
ct-taped to something. He tried to move his other arm. No dice.
Yeah. That’s not good.
He felt something tugging on his ankles and raised his eyes. There was a woman with her head near his knees, who seemed to be the source of the ankle tugging. Hmmm. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.
“He’s waking up.” A man’s voice cut through the fog in Finn’s brain. He blinked and raised his head higher. There was a tall guy, dark hair, wearing a leather jacket, standing about three feet away. Finn squinted. He remembered that leather jacket. It had come at him on the terrace, along with the fist that knocked him out.
“Hmmm?” The woman at Finn’s knees looked up, screamed, and jumped back. Finn groaned and squinched his eyes shut.
“Can I suggest a ‘no screaming’ rule?” he grunted. “Because getting knocked in the head gives you a hell of a hangover.”
The woman moved over next to Leather Man. Finn shifted around to try and see what he’d been taped to, fighting the shooting pains in his head as he moved. Looked to be an office chair. He raised his eyes back to the couple, who were staring at him. Leather Man had his arms crossed over his chest, giving a decent tough-guy impression, although the punch he’d landed on Finn had already accomplished that quite well, thankyouverymuch.
Finn gave a short chuckle. “There’s got to be a better way to earn a living, know what I mean?”
“Hi,” the woman said, smiling at him. “We’re really sorry about the head injury. You okay?”
Finn looked at her, and it occurred to him he’d seen her before. He took another long look at Leather Man.
“You were in the elevator,” he said.
“What?”
“Nothing.” This was definitely the couple he’d seen coming out of the elevator earlier that day when he’d cased the place. But his source said Mrs. McGregor lived alone.
Which meant these people didn’t belong here any more than he did.
“Fucking birds,” Finn grunted.
“I’m sorry?” the woman said.
“How the hell did you get to the bird before I did?” Finn wriggled against the bonds at his wrists and legs. They were tight. “Okay. Fine.” He pulled on a smile and looked up at his captors. “Look, the security system was hot when I got here, and the method I used bought me maybe fifteen minutes.” A lie. He’d disabled the system when he’d come in earlier that day. But a good the-cops-are-coming bluff was typically effective with the thieving crowd. “So let’s get the bird, get out, and talk about it somewhere else, what do you say?”
Maybe Baby Page 11
