He glanced sideways at her. “Yes, ma‘am.”
“No, I’m serious!” She reached up and tugged the black wig off. “I don’t work here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sighed. “Can I at least get the money out of my bra? It’s itching like crazy.”
The cop led her through the hallway and past the changing room, where the other members of the Justice League were also being fitted with beautiful plastic bracelets. Most of them were speaking in rapid-fire Russian.
Grace and her escort soon emerged into the alley, which was jammed with police cars and vans and dark blue government-issue vehicles.
The door to the warehouse next door was closed, taped over with yellow crime tape.
The cop led her by the arm toward one of the police vans—the paddy wagon, she guessed—but before they’d reached it, the door to one of the unmarked cars swung open.
“Wait,” said a female voice. “I’ll handle her.”
Tina emerged from the backseat of the vehicle, wearing jeans and a blue windbreaker. She gave a low whistle. “Look at you. Taking the wild thing a bit far, aren’t you, Grace?”
Grace’s mouth fell open. “Are you…?”
Tina nodded. “U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.”
Grace shook her head. “That explains a lot. Did I ruin your case, too?”
Tina looked confused. “No, you didn’t ruin our case. We had to move a little early, but we were ready.”
“I guess you found Tom.” She nodded toward the warehouse.
“Yeah.” Tina took her to the car.
Grace got into the backseat and Tina slid in beside her.
“Your ex-husband was in pretty bad shape. They took him to Penn.”
Grace’s stomach churned. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I talked to the EMT. She said his vitals were relatively stable. He was hurting, but he should be all right. You cold?”
Grace nodded.
Tina grabbed a USCIS windbreaker from the front seat and wrapped it around Grace’s shoulders. “Your nephew is back at the dorm safe and sound, probably sleeping it off.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
Tina smiled. “Cook me dinner sometime?”
“Absolutely. And then maybe afterward we can play charades. I bet you’d be good at it.”
Tina winked. “You’re a good woman, Grace Becker. Promise me you’ll be careful who you get involved with in the future?”
Grace nodded. “I will.”
Tina opened the car door. “Wait here. I’ll go get your stuff out of the club.”
Chapter 21.5
Monday, 3:14 p.m.
Home Videos
Pete scoured the club for Grace, but she was nowhere to be found. Some of the dancers had been taken out of the club by Immigration Services, and he was worried Grace had been picked up along with them.
But when he’d spoken to the guy in charge for the USCIS, he couldn’t locate her. Ditto for the Philly PD.
And he hadn’t even said goodbye.
Once Pete had spoken to Lou, he discovered that they’d managed to get all the evidence they needed. Skobelov had agreed to pay Morton eighty thousand dollars for the memory key, topping Iatesta’s bid of seventy grand.
Most of the conversation had been caught on Nick’s wire, as well as on the video feed in Pete’s cap. At least it was, up until the point Grace had sat on his lap and blocked the action.
Man, he couldn’t wait to get a look at that recording. A vision of Grace in that scorching Supergirl costume flashed through his mind. A vision he had to get out of his mind, pronto, unless he wanted to find himself sporting wood for the walk out to the parking lot.
He shook his head.
He was glad it was over, but he wasn’t looking forward to the next few months.
Now, the grunt work for the case began. Submitting evidence, writing reports, working with federal prosecutors to build a case against Skobelov.
At least there would be no problem with that. Especially since somebody had located a counterfeiting operation across the alley, with a printing press, boxes of counterfeit social security cards and an office full of papers with Skobelov’s name all over them.
How Pete and Lou had never gotten wind of the counterfeit operation was a mystery. And why Balboa had never told them about it was something that would definitely be addressed when they discussed his cooperation in the case with the prosecutor.
Lou came over and clapped Pete on the shoulder. “How ’bout a drink and some dinner?”
“Nah. I got a lot to do.”
Lou nodded. “Guess I should get to work, too. Besides, nothing’s gonna taste as good as Grace’s cooking.”
“Yeah.”
“That Grace was one hell of a woman, eh, boss?”
Pete rubbed the back of his neck. “She sure was.”
Chapter 22
Monday, 6:35 p.m.
Burn Baby Burn
Grace rubbed a small circle in the steam on her bathroom mirror.
All her makeup was gone. The henna tattoo had already begun to fade. And she had no idea how long it would take her to style her hair.
She sighed.
Goodbye, wild woman.
She bundled up in a thick white robe and slippers and scuffled down the stairs to make a cup of tea.
The kids’ backpacks hung by the door, and a frisson of worry ran down her spine. What if Tom’s conversation with Nick, the one that was recorded from the body wire, got her in trouble?
It seemed unlikely since the papers she’d signed had never actually been used, and were, in fact, missing. But still, it was a possibility.
She didn’t regret not taking the CD from the recorder at Pete’s house, though. Skobelov was a despicable and dangerous man, who had undoubtedly ruined many lives. He deserved to go to prison for a long, long time.
Grace had called the hospital, but they wouldn’t let her speak with Tom until the police had a chance to interview him.
Grace took her cup of tea into the living room and lit a fire.
She was sitting on the couch debating whether or not she should call her lawyer, when the doorbell rang.
Through the peephole, she could see Pete’s red hair and the collar of his trench coat. Her heart jumped.
He turned when she opened the door, and smiled.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” she said. Or ever.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to return a few things.” He pulled her panties out of his pocket and dangled them on his finger.
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the house, her cheeks burning.
“Thanks,” she said, plucking the panties from his finger and stuffing them into the pocket of her robe. “Do you have anything else? Something a little more sparkly, perhaps?”
He produced her ring from his other pocket and slipped it onto her finger. He cupped his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze.
“Thanks for your help, Grace. I’m sorry if I was…Well, if I wasn’t always a gentleman.”
“You were fine. You were doing your job. Did you get everything you needed on Skobelov?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t turn out exactly as planned, but we got enough to put him out of business. Along with the immigration violations and Internet drug sales, he’s going away for a long time.”
“What about Nick?”
“He’s under witness protection until the trial. After that, we’ll see. He’s got some things to answer for with the USCIS, too.”
“So you were working with Tina all along?”
“Actually, no. We didn’t even know about the immigration investigation. It was purely a coincidence they wrapped up their case the same time we were finishing ours.”
Grace wondered if she should tell him that it wasn’t quite the coincidence he thought, but she decided against it. “How could that have happened? I mean, how could you all not have known about each other?”<
br />
“It isn’t all that uncommon, to tell you the truth. Lots of times different organizations will be working on the same guy or the same group, and they don’t even know it. It’s the secretive nature of the business, I guess.”
“Hmm.” She stared at her anniversary band. “What’s going to happen to my ex-husband?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll have to go through the evidence, see what comes up. If he agrees to testify, things might not be too bad for him.”
She nodded.
“By the way, his girlfriend was arrested on conspiracy drug charges, too. They just picked her up half an hour ago.”
“Marlene?”
He nodded.
Grace smiled. Finally, a bright spot in all this mess.
Pete hooked her chin with his fingers and tilted her head until she looked into his eyes. “I have something else.”
He reached into the inside pocket of the trench coat and pulled out an envelope.
She opened it and removed the papers inside. The bottom of her stomach dropped out.
“I know what they are, Grace,” Pete said quietly.
She nodded. What could she say? She’d been nailed. She just hoped she and Tom wouldn’t be in jail at the same time.
Her poor kids. She could only imagine what their lives would be like.
Friend: Hey, Kevin, wanna go skateboarding on Saturday?
Kevin: Nah, I can’t. Gotta go to Riker’s Island and see my mom and dad.
Her eyes filled with tears. She’d really screwed up this time.
“Hey,” Pete said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “As far as I’m concerned, I have no idea what those are. They’re yours. Do what you want with them.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “I know why you did it, Grace. And if anyone asks, I don’t have any idea what Tom was talking about on that recording. But I hope you understand that nothing is worth this kind of risk.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
“And I suggest you don’t leave those lying around.”
She went to the fireplace and threw the papers in, watching as they curled and blackened and turned to ash.
Goodbye, house.
Pete came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She turned, curling her fingers in his hair and bringing his mouth to hers.
It was a make-out session to rival the one she’d had with Robbie Freeman when they’d played seven minutes in heaven at Cecilia’s fifteenth birthday party. She couldn’t figure out what was making her hotter—Pete or the fire.
He pulled away and took a deep breath. “I forgot to tell you. We found out that Skobelov isn’t Russian after all. He’s Polish.”
She laughed. “I guess no one was really who they seemed to be in this mess, huh?”
“Nobody except you.”
She looked away. “I don’t know. I seem to have a little problem figuring out who I am these days.”
“You’re the genuine article, Grace.” He hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head. “So what are you going to do now?”
She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that. I decided I’m going to try and start my own catering company.”
“You’re quite a cook.”
“Among other things.” She smiled. Maybe the wild woman hadn’t completely disappeared, after all. She kissed him again. “Want to come upstairs with me? I’ll model these for you.” She pulled the panties out of the pocket of her robe.
Pete turned the color of a tomato. “I shouldn’t. I mean, I really shouldn’t get involved with someone from the case.”
She kissed him again and twirled the panties on her finger as she headed for the stairs. “Why don’t you just pretend I’m someone else?”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4606-9
A WIDOW IN PARADISE
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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A WIDOW IN PARADISE
Copyright © 2010 by Donna Birdsell
SUBURBAN SECRETS
Copyright © 2006 by Donna Birdsell
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