The Scotland Yard Exchange Series

by Stephanie Queen

  She smiled a knowing smile. He figured she knew he was asking how he and Grace might manage the same feat.

  “It’s not easy. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’ve never cried at night wondering and hoping Dan would be all right. At times I’ve even resented the intrusion on the family, especially on Jason’s behalf. But look at Jason and how wildly wonderful and happy he is. And look at Dan—could you imagine a better, happier man? Nothing worthwhile is easy.”

  “But what about you, Esther?”

  She laughed. “I have the most boring, normal existence possible to balance out the rest. It works out very well. But then every couple worth their salt—and every couple who is truly in love—figures out how to balance whatever it is that needs balancing. If what each of you truly wants is your spouse’s happiness, then it works out somehow, every time. Even if it works out in a warped ‘Gift of the Magi’ way.”

  He arched his brow at that.

  “I admit, it’s usually nothing so melodramatic. I cry when I need to and Dan comforts me. He rails when he needs to and I soothe him. As simple as that. In the meantime, I love to watch him thrive and he loves finding me back here behind the scenes waiting.” She blushed again.

  He couldn’t resist giving Esther another hug. Maybe it was as simple—and as tough—as embracing everything that made one who they were, and thus eminently lovable, and making it work out. Since he’d always prided himself on being up to the toughest challenges, he now wondered in self-mockery why he was shrinking from this one.

  “Thank you. You know you’re an inspiration.”

  “I hope so. I’d love to see you thrive again.” She gave him an arched brow, but without a blush this time.

  If he were a man that ever blushed, this would be the time. Proudly, he held up to the challenge, remaining as white-faced as always. “I’d best leave and not ruin your reunion. Tell Dan I’ll catch up with him later—for dinner at Mabel’s.” With that he left, sneaking down the stairs instead of taking the crowded elevator. His luggage remained in a heap in a corner of Dan’s office, but he’d have to pick it up later.

  As soon as he hit the street, he stopped, pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in Grace’s cell phone number. He ignored the slight shake in his hand and the thudding of his pulse. The enormity of his need to talk with her and make things all right took over all else.

  Lucky for him, she didn’t answer, because he had no idea what he’d say on the phone. Shoving the phone back in his pocket without leaving a message, he said out loud, “You dolt.” This was obviously a conversation he needed to have in person. He had a lot to make up for.

  The thought of a bouquet of roses entered his mind, and he glanced over at a nearby street vendor selling flowers. That would be fine if all he’d done was keep her waiting for dinner, but since he’d actually bedded her and then turned her away without any explanation—possibly because he could never really fully explain it to himself—or he didn’t want to explain it because the only explanation was that he was an emotional coward—meant he needed something much bigger than roses. He had to be brave enough to venture out on the emotional limb of love to the very end. He knew what he needed to do now. No need to think of the possible consequences. That would only inspire fear.

  He now had an immense desire to go shopping and buy a gift—a very special gift. He’d have to track Grace down later.

  As David thought about seeing Grace again, his cell phone rang. He jumped at the sound and shook his head, contemplating for a second not answering the blasted thing. It could be Grace. He reached into his breast pocket, slipped the phone out and flipped it against his ear.

  “Young here.”

  “We still haven’t got Grace’s statement. We need it to wrap up the paperwork,” Dan said without preamble.

  “And?”

  “Where is she?”

  “I’m not sure,” David sighed. He put his edginess aside to concentrate on answering Dan’s question. “You can try her office—she’s bound to end up there eventually. Go easy on her, Dan, she’s not used to this police business. She’s a decorator.”

  “You’re kidding yourself if you believe that. She held her own pretty well over all the rough patches and I have to admit—I absolutely never thought I’d say this—she has a keen eye.”

  “Like I said, she’s a decorator,” David said.

  “Touché. I’ll find her.” Dan continued, “By the way, I had a call from London. They gave the okay for a permanent office. You can pick up the keys any time. Your office happens to be down the hall to the left of mine. Empty for now. Waiting for a decorator’s touch,” he added with his boyhood attitude.

  David listened to his friend and took a breath. He felt good about the official office, but it wasn’t the elation he’d hoped for. He signed off the phone and went on his way to Mabel’s haven on Beacon Hill. But before he got there, someone from Grace’s office called to let him know that his townhouse would be ready by 5:00 p.m.

  “Where are we headed?” Pixie asked as she got in the car. Grace had driven the Mustang up to the curb right outside the front door of their office building and called Pixie to come outside.

  “To a mall. I don’t know where else I’d find a pet store with a Noodles dog in stock,” she said. She checked her watch. It was just past noon. They had to buy a puppy and get back to sign off on David’s townhouse and the finishing touches in time to get to Mabel’s for dinner. She pulled from the parking spot and aimed her car for the on-ramp to the highway.

  “I see—or I would see if I were clairvoyant. As it is, I’m still guessing. And not un-coincidently, I’m running short of patience because this is the middle of a work day and you have not even shown up for work—yet again,” Pixie finished and took a deep breath. “What’s going on, Grace?” Now she looked worried.

  “I’m buying a puppy for David—a housewarming gift.”

  “So then all is well with you two? Because I had the distinct impression that all was actually messed up…”

  “All is over between us. That’s why I’m getting him the puppy—he’s going to need it.” She sniffed, unable to help her emotions from leaking out. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and eased into the traffic on Route One.

  “Grace!” Pixie sounded as if she were in pain. “I’m so sorry. And you are so sweet—but are you sure you want to go to the trouble for a man who’s obviously a lughead?” Pixie’s quick change to a scowl would have made Grace laugh at any other time, but today it made a tear leak from one eye. Then she squared her shoulders again, literally tensing her muscles and mentally tensing her brain. Luckily the mall wasn’t far or she’d probably end up with permanent damage from the exertion.

  “He is a lughead, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. From now on, that’s his name. Batman is dead and gone. He doesn’t deserve the name Batman anymore.” Pixie crossed her arms across her chest and looked like a two-year-old about to threaten to hold her breath. Finally she spoke again. “You should give up on him, Grace.”

  She patted her friend on the knee. “I could never give up on David, any more than I could give up on any of the people I love. That’s all I have—you’re all my family. Don’t worry. I know I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Really? He doesn’t deserve you.” Pixie pouted.

  “I’m not giving up on David, but I am giving up on a romance with him,” she said. She knew it was true when she felt the trembling inside, but she took a deep breath again and let some of the tension out of her squared shoulders. “The lughead can’t bring himself to endanger me by getting romantically involved. Right now I can’t do anything about that. Maybe someday he’ll get past his past. In the meantime, he’s right. I need to get on with my future.” She said the words and felt their sting, but there wasn’t a teardrop or anything else leaking anywhere this time. That was because she couldn’t imagine her future. It was like some complicated concept of theoretical physics and time travel into another d
imension that eluded her grasp.

  “This talk is a bit too brave to be real—you can’t possibly believe all that bull you’re slinging.” Pixie turned to her, sporting her ultimate look of skepticism: one arched brow, one squinted eye and lips compressed to a thin line of Halloween orange.

  It was the orange lips that made Grace laugh.

  “I’m too sad to be brave. But deep down in my gut, I really meant every word of what I said.” Since she’d said this and still felt no leaking, she decided she could believe it herself. She took a deep sigh and the inner shakiness subsided. Ending her romance with David had been like a nine-point-nine earthquake on the emotional Richter scale and after all the initial cracks and rumbles and falling apart, she’d settled down. She was going to hold together—even though she knew there’d be aftershocks. She could still do things—like buy a puppy for David. Because she still loved him.

  In another minute they pulled into the mall parking lot, and Grace found a spot right near the main entrance.

  “We have to do this fast.”

  “What’s the rush? I thought you were taking the day off from work.”

  “We need to get back and run through the punch list for David’s townhouse. We need to make sure it’s ready for him to move back in tonight,” Grace said.

  “Oh, that’s all.” Pixie bounced from the car and slammed the door. “You’re positive he’s worth all this trouble?”

  “I already had the office call him and tell him it would be ready,” Grace confessed. It was an impulse when she was in the throes of the initial rumbles of the earthquake—in her haste to get it all over with. She came around the car, grabbed her friend by the hand and sort of ran, like a person runs in heels, leaning dangerously forward like a sprinter in slow-mo. They blew through the door and past some carts to stop in front of the directory for only a moment.

  “You haven’t really given up on him, have you?” Pixie stared at her with accusation in her eyes.

  Grace stood. The words were too raw for her shaky status of steadiness. She was speechless, and Pixie squinted even more, if that was possible.

  “Come on. I know exactly where the pet store is in here.” It was Pixie’s turn to drag her along while she recovered from her stupor.

  The thought made Grace tremble, so she shoved it aside as they arrived in front of the windows displaying the most adorable puppies she’d ever seen. Or so they seemed because she happened to be in a mood to appreciate adorable puppies at the moment.

  “There!” She spotted a miniature version of Noodles bouncing and yapping in the corner.

  “Looks like Noodles, but it seems a little more, aah, obnoxious wouldn’t be too strong a word,” Pixie said as Grace grabbed her friend by the elbow and pulled her inside the store.

  “That’s unfair. Of course she’s excited to see us. She senses that we’re here to buy her—you know—that doggie-sixth-sense they have.”

  “Grace, that’s about sensing earthquakes and tornadoes, not about sensing some lunatic chick charging in to buy a dog for a lughead.”

  “Shh.” Grace gave Pixie a mock-threatening look, but her grin leaked out and that was a huge improvement over the leaking tears. She’d survived her first aftershock. The puppy cure was working its magic and it wasn’t even going to be her puppy. She was giddy by the time they found a sales clerk.

  “I want that little white fluff-ball in the front window.”

  The clerk looked past her shoulder to where she pointed and nodded with a surprised look. “You’d like to take him out and play with him?”

  “No, I’d like to buy him—it’s a him?” She had a second’s hesitation. She’d rather get a girl puppy. She took another deep breath.

  “Yeah, he’s a him. You want to buy him—just like that?”

  “Yes, I’ll take him.” She beamed a smile, confident she’d made a brilliant decision and David would—eventually—be happy with his puppy. She vibrated with tension, anticipating David’s surprise. The store clerk looked at her like she was a lunatic.

  “Don’t you want to know how much the dog costs?” The clerk’s voice rose with skepticism.

  “Just get the dog out of the window and wrap it up. Can’t you tell we’re in a hurry?” Pixie folded her arms, scowled and started tapping one foot.

  “Okay. That’ll be a thousand bucks.” The clerk smirked.

  Grace didn’t need a mirror to feel herself turn white.

  “Nice try, dog store clerk. Do you want to charge us the correct price or do I call the manager?” Pixie said.

  “All right, all right. Six-fifty. Plus tax.” The clerk went to the window, and after a short scuffle, grabbed their puppy and brought him out.

  Grace reached out her arms and the clerk pushed the puppy into them. After running around for the necessary accessories, including a manly doggy-coat, all bagged up for Pixie to carry, they did their almost-running-in-high-heels routine out of the store and all the way back to the car.

  Grace knew better than to slow down for a second. Re-thinking it would ruin her plan. She shuddered with fear as she pulled the car door closed behind her.

  Chapter 22

  DAVID’S cell phone rang as he left Mabel’s. He breathed the crisp autumn air deeply, finally arriving at his long forgotten townhouse. He opened the front door reluctantly, since the noise of workers could be heard from outside.

  Pixie stood there with her hands on her hips, looking up directing two white-overalled workmen while they installed his drapes.

  “Is it safe to enter?” he called out to her. He knew she’d catch his double meaning. He was hopeful that Grace would not be there—he needed the right moment to talk to her and in his experience, any moments that included her Pixie friend were not right for long, heartfelt discussions.

  Pixie spun around and failed to give him her usual quirk of a smile. She stomped toward him. “What do you mean by that?” She squinted. “You can move back in any time you want. We’ll be finished here by the end of the day.” Then she walked to his kitchen counter, newly bedecked with matching-cushion barstools in a fetching forest green, which picked up the hues in the colorful wool rug underlying a tremendous dining table adjacent to the kitchen area and sharing the huge, formerly cavernous space with the living area. She picked up an envelope and shoved it at him as she walked by.

  “Your bill. Pay it promptly,” she snarled. Her bared teeth startled him. It was harsh treatment even from her, but he could offer no explanation or excuse that would justify to her why he’d broken her friend’s heart. He needed to talk to Grace first.

  She called, “I’m out of here,” toward the general area of the hallway to his bedroom and left with a resounding thud of the door behind her. There must be some workmen in his bedroom. He’d have to come back later, after dinner back at Mabel’s.

  Before he left, David looked around at the exquisitely appointed space. He walked toward the white-painted architectural columns of the fireplace, with its new mantle and brickwork, and peered into the new library-office space that Grace had created for him. It looked as inviting and warm as she was. He couldn’t bring himself to go into that room. He felt horrified at how he’d treated her that morning. He stood and looked at it through the doublewide doorway fitted with pocket doors. That morning he’d behaved no better than a cold hard statue of a man. He realized he’d be lucky if she didn’t spit on him, let alone listen to him beg her to be part of his life.

  He turned away and checked his watch. It was almost five, but he decided he needed to act now. It was close to the dinner hour at Mabel’s, and he knew Grace would be there. It was time to climb all the way out on that emotional limb. He turned on his heel, let himself out the door, shutting it securely behind, and strode at a brisk pace toward the jewelers building on Washington Street.

  Grace heard the door close and wondered who had come in. Her heart thudded loud and hard at the thought that it could be David. She scooped up the dog from his papers and rushed from the bath
room out to the living area.

  The room was empty. Had he been there and left? The puppy, who she thought of as Nibbles, squirmed in her arms and she laughed at him. “You’re going to be a dickens of a dog for poor David to control. You are an adorable handful!” Of course she realized that David would name his own puppy and had no idea what name he might choose.

  The thought caused another shudder of emptiness.

  Her cell phone rang and the instant shrillness of possibilities made her vibrate. She grabbed it from a pocket inside her bag.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Dan—O’Keefe—the Chief of Police…”

  “Oh.” She let out her breath, but only for a millisecond. “Oh no! I forgot all about the statement!”

  “You guessed it. How about if I meet you at Mabel’s now—within the next ten minutes—if that’s doable—and I’ll take your statement there. I need to get the report to the attorney general’s office by first thing in the morning at the latest,” Dan said.

  “I’ll be there.” Grace squeezed Nibbles in close and headed for the door. She couldn’t wait here any longer for David. She’d have to show him his newly decorated home another time—she had no idea when. As for surprising him with his Nibbles, it looked like she’d be doing that at dinner with Mabel. A major shudder passed through her as she closed the door behind her.

  David smiled as he pushed through the door and strode into the hallway leading to dozens of high quality jewelry shops—all specializing in diamonds. He felt like he was on the mission of his life, but calm. Afterward, when he walked back out to the street, bustling with rush-hour people and cars, he looked at his watch again, pleased that it had taken only a short time. He’d apparently subconsciously known exactly what he would buy for this occasion.

  Other than the fact that he was strolling down Tremont Street back toward Beacon Hill at twilight on a glorious fall evening, having accomplished so much more than purchasing a surprise gift, there was no reason that David should grin and nod at every scurrying stranger.