After Bill and I squash into the seat behind the driver, I point to the front seat. “Who are they?”
“They work with me.”
I shake my head trying to make some sense out of the dreadful afternoon. Larry killed. Removed by those same men. And they work with Bill. The equation doesn’t add up. At least it doesn’t add up to suit my satisfaction.
“Where are we going?”
Bill puts his arm around me, draws me to him and whispers, “Teterboro.”
Chapter 53
THE VAN MAKES ITS WAY up Park Avenue to One Hundred Twenty-Fifth, then takes the Henry Hudson Parkway to the George Washington Bridge.
It’s warm inside the van, or at least I feel warm. Maybe it’s because I’m pleasantly plastered to Bill’s right side. I like the feel of his strength against me. Like that his arm circles me protectively.
Timing. It’s all about timing. I’m dead-sure we belong together. But how can we get there? Are there too may stumbling blocks in our way?
When I was ready, he wasn’t. When he was ready, I wasn’t. I look into the blurry lights and send up a fractured prayer, “Please, whoever’s running this show, there must be some way the two of us can get in synch.”
As the van speeds along Highway 46, Kingsley-Smythe’s fate, the red address book and the Colombian connection fade from importance as I remember the only night Bill and I spent together. Peeling his shirt away to see the scar his shoulder took for me. Feeling his face between my breasts.
Hearing him murmur, “I’ve dreamed about this.”
Overcome with longing, I fold into Bill and nestle my head against his shoulder.
At first he plants soft kisses on my forehead, then on my eyes, and then his mouth covers mine.
The van is dark. The thrum of the engine drowns our rising passions. We could be two teenagers in the back of a balcony during a Saturday Matinee. Instead we are two people in love, making up for lost time and banking a little hope for the future.
We arrive at Teterboro much too quickly. Once the van is inspected and allowed through the gate, a cart with a blinking yellow light leads us to a small jet parked some distance from the hangar.
Bill and I exit the van in time to see the two men in Hermann’s uniforms roll the gurney to the door of the plane and watch as Sigrid Hale disappears into the interior.
Cliff, who has followed the gurney, hurries toward us. “We’re all set. What next?”
“Wheels up in five. Go ahead and board. I’ll be right behind you.”
Bill slips his arm around my waist and turns me to him. “I’ve decided I’m not cut out for cops and robbers. This is my last assignment. I want time for the better things of life—mainly you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Damn, you’re tough. What in hell do you think I mean?” When I don’t answer, he says, “The government has cut us a deal. They’ve promised to let Uncle Jason and Cliff slip out of the country in return for idents and corroborating testimony. All I have to do is get them settled. Then it’s over.”
“Over?”
“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”
Can I believe what I’m hearing? If it’s true—I go hot and cold at the same instant. One part of me wants to scream with joy while the other waves that old familiar red flag.
“It’s a little over two weeks until Angela’s wedding. Can you be there?”
Bill draws me to him for a long goodbye kiss until the engines begin their whine.
I watch him stride toward the waiting jet. Halfway there he turns and shouts, “I’ll try like hell.”
Chapter 54
IT’S STOPPED SNOWING but I hardly notice the arctic temperature as I stand alone watching the jet taxi to the runway and disappear into the deepening sky.
I wait until I can no longer see the running lights, then turn and almost bump into the golf cart with the flashing yellow light on the roof.
“Ride?”
At the sound of a familiar voice, I peer inside the plastic cover to see Jaime Platón at the wheel.
My mind reels. What in hell is he doing here? Spying? Or did Bill know who was in the cart? Has Jaime been working with Bill all along? And does he also know who Sigrid Hale really is? So many unanswered questions.
I slide beneath the plastic and stare ahead as the cart jerks forward.
Finally my curiosity wins over my confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to escort you back to the hotel. Greene and Mindy are waiting. I think he’s made dinner reservations downstairs.”
“But how did you—never mind, I don’t want to know.”
Jaime laughs. “That’s the first time I’ve heard those words out of your mouth. Of course you want to know. And there are some things we want to know too.”
He stashes me in the car then enters the hangar offices. Only a few minutes pass before he returns and we’re on our way back to the George Washington Bridge.
We ride along in comfortable silence until Jaime clears his throat and says, “From what I saw, it looks like you and Cotton are still very much a couple.”
I allow myself a pleasant warm shiver before I say, “Guess you could say so.”
I wait for the usual warning or at least the customary look he gave me in the past, but none comes. Instead he gives me a brief raise of his eyebrows and a thin smile. “Guess I never stood a chance.”
I feel the heat in my cheeks, partly from the pleasure of hearing his wistful tone, partly from the embarrassment of enjoying it. “Oh, Jaime. You’ve been such a good friend and so wonderful to me. Any woman would be—”
He raises his hand. “I’m not begging. I just wanted you to know how I feel.” He stares into the oncoming traffic for a few seconds then says, “If you ever need me, all you have to do is call.”
Chapter 55
MINDY AND GREENE are seated on the same side of the table, leaving Jaime and me to do the same. Only, things are very different. Greene can hardly keep his eyes off the diminutive detective, and her cheeks are flushed with excitement.
Once the champagne arrives and is poured all around, Greene raises his glass. “Here’s to the success of our dream team. Thanks to Danes’s supplying us with a glass that had Larry Templeton’s fingerprints on it, we were able to match his with the ones we picked up when Sheri Browne was murdered. We now know for sure that Larry Templeton murdered Caro, Sheri and the other three women.”
I’m on the verge of asking if they found Larry’s body, but decide to hold that back until I get more information.
Greene saves me the trouble. “When Bill informed Jaime that the DEA was moving Hale and Danes out of the country, he asked that Jaime be there to witness the transfer. In return for that, Larry Templeton has been turned over to us. The good news is there’s a toe tag attached. It’ll save the state a pile of money. As far as I’m concerned, the case is closed.”
Before anyone has gotten a glass to his lips, Greene hurries on. “And here’s to you, Allie, and you, Jaime. This case would never have been solved without your help.”
Again the glasses don’t make their target because Greene pulls Mindy’s left hand from her lap to the table. “And here’s to my Mindy. The brains of the outfit, who loves me enough to say yes.” Mindy quickly lowers her head and pushes her hand to the center of the table. There on the ring finger is a modest but brightly sparkling engagement ring.
I lunge across the table to embrace her. “How wonderful. I’m so excited for you.”
Then I grab Greene’s hand and pump it until he gives a pained “Thanks” and pulls it away.
While Greene and Jaime trade information on the latest basketball scores, I reach for Mindy’s hand a second time. Just the right size for her tiny hand. “Gee, that was fast.”
She blushes and lowers her eyes. “I feel badly that I kept this from you, Allie. Greene and I have been dating since last April, but we decided to keep it professional in public. That’s why I hesitate
d to ask you to be my roommate.”
I smile. “I understand—perfectly.”
“Greene gave me the ring after the four of us left Arturo’s the other night.”
“How about your parents?”
She shrugged. “They were ecstatic to hear I was engaged. Not so happy about my marrying a black man, but Greene and those dimples of his won them over.” She turns to give him an adoring look.
“Is that what you call him? Greene?”
Mindy covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. “That’s what I call him except when we’re making love.”
I decide to drop it at that. “Greene” has always suited me just fine.
“When’s the big day?”
“Not sure yet. New Year’s is too soon. Maybe April. We had our first date on April Fools’ Day. That would make a proper anniversary.”
Chapter 56
THE NORTH SHORE
AS WEDDINGS GO IT WAS LOVELY. The ceremony was held at six in the evening in a quaint Episcopal Church on Sheridan Road. The place was packed—mostly with Duncan’s family and friends.
The Other Armingtons, who live in Wilmette and who we fondly refer to as the “OAs,” represented our side. Dad’s brother, Aiden, and his wife, Sallie, have three kids. Alan and Ardythe, who live in the Chicago area, came with their spouses. Arlene, the only cousin I really like because she isn’t the prettiest one in her family either, was absent.
No one but our immediate family made it from Lampasas. Mother was furious until Dad quietly pointed out that it was the day after Christmas.
Angela was radiant in pale pink, with a fingertip veil falling from a crown of pale-pink roses. I wore a deeper shade of that color and carried a smaller bouquet of the same.
And now we are in Lake Bluff at a small but elegant club perched at the edge of a high bluff above Lake Michigan.
It’s only seven thirty, but it seems like we’ve been standing in the receiving line for an eternity. I’m next to Duncan’s father, who is best man. He’s very nice. Even made some comment about how he and his wife hoped I would be the one. That was embarrassing.
The line is still snaking out the double doors into the entry hall. I lean out a little further hoping to see someone familiar. Someone who said he’d try like hell to make it.
To my amazement, dinner is served very close to the appointed time. Duncan’s mother runs a tight ship.
My parents, the Other Armingtons and I are seated at a table for ten, but since we are only nine Mrs. Bruce has supplied a very attractive cardiac resident working with her husband at the local hospital.
He’s single. Knows how to make small talk. Properly interesting and moderately interested. Still, I find myself looking toward the open double doors every five minutes or so. I must be so obvious that he asks if I’m expecting someone.
I smile. “Not really.”
He smiles back. “I’m glad.”
And the dinner goes on and on. Toasts. Duncan’s is so sweet. More toasts. Welcome to the family. More wine. More champagne.
And finally the cake. The garter. The bouquet Angela tries to toss my way but someone else snatches it in midair.
Seconds later Angela grabs my arm. “You have to help me change. It’s time to get out of here.”
She looks so radiant I could scream. The little green gremlin from my childhood returns, but only for an instant. I put my arms around her. “You look wonderful. I know you two will be happy.” “We will.” She gives me a steady look. “And you will be too. I’m sure about that.”
I turn away, not wanting her to see my beginning tears. “Someday. Maybe.”
A knock at the door saves the moment, and Angela rushes to open it. It’s Duncan, tapping at his watch. “How much longer? They’re waiting to pelt us with the birdseed.”
I had forgotten about his obsession with being on time. Poor Angela.
I pull the heavy coat over my shoulders and follow the bride and groom out to the central hall.
Angela plants a kiss on my cheek; then Duncan drags her into the cheering crowd.
I turn and walk to the back of the room to look out over Lake Michigan. From there you can see the lights of Chicago to the south.
In the background there are cheers and the sound of wheels screeching away. Then the beginning goodbyes. It’s time to go.
Not yet. Not yet.
I shiver and grab my coat around me, then feel his warmth before Bill’s arms reach around me and pull me into him. “I’m a little late. Sorry about that.”
I turn into his embrace. “You made it. That’s all that matters.”
Acknowledgments
I’m most grateful to Ellen Reid, who together with Dotti Albertine, Laren Bright and Brookes Nohlgren, brought this second book to life.
LOUISE GAYLORD is the award-winning author of Anacacho, first in the Allie Armington Mystery series, and the novel Julia Fairchild. A world traveler and opera buff, Louise divides her time between Houston, Texas; Santa Barbara, California; and Old Forge, New York, in the Adirondacks. Louise is currently at work on the third book in the Allie Armington Mystery series.
Photo of the author by Priscilla
www.santabarbaraseen.com
www.louisegaylord.com
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Xs, An Allie Armington Mystery Page 21
