Beauty & the Beast (31 page)

“Look, Mochi, this is for you,” Jamie told Princess Mochi. He held the hat out toward her.

“Grrr, grrr, grrr,” Mochi replied, jaws snapping, teeth flashing. She pawed at the air, struggling to get at it. JT sighed. It was time to hand her over to Jamie.

Before she peed on him and Tess.

“So she was no trouble,” Jamie said, accepting PM from JT and holding her, also at arm’s length. She flailed and growled. When he tried to place the hat on her round head, she yipped uncontrollably. JT gave it five minutes. Then she’d chew it up or throw up on it.

“No trouble at all,” Tess said.

JT’s eyes widened at the
LOST DOG – REWARD
flyer sitting on his desk and positioned his body between it and Jamie. All was well that ended well: Julia’s theft of Mochi had alerted her mom to just how badly she wanted a dog. They had gone to their local rescue shelter and were now proud owners of not one, but two chihuahua mixes—little sisters the shelter had not wanted to separate. Julia had renamed them Kaylee and Zoe, after two characters on
Firefly.
Julia told Tess and JT they could come visit any time they wanted.

Tomorrow was Tess’s day off. It was only a five-hour drive.

“Connie will call you about dinner,” Jamie said. “We’ll fill you in on the trip then. You can’t even believe how many pictures we took.”

“Wow, can’t wait,” Tess said, and JT knew she was sincere. The sooner they agreed to sit through three hundred shots of Mickey, Minnie, and the Vargas clan, the sooner they would be reunited—if only briefly—with their little cutie.

“Thanks again, sis.” Jamie kissed her on the cheek and shook hands with JT. He managed to leash Mochi without losing a finger, and then they were out the door.

“It’s so hard to let go,” JT murmured, and a tear slid down Tess’s cheek. “Hey, big day, though. Happy day.” He kissed the tear away. “Go get ’em, Wonder Woman.”

She smiled bravely. “Roger that.”

* * *

One of the downsides of becoming precinct captain was a decrease in action and an increase in paperwork. Captains assigned cases and rotations, attended meetings, and gave press conferences.

Except for today.

Tess felt like the quarterback coming in off the field as she stood with the group of FBI and Homeland Security agents at the bottom of the jetway. An air marshal was leading Anatoly Vodanyov down the stairs at JFK. The mayor smiled at Tess. Even the never-cheerful Chief Ward managed to look pleased. Svetlana Barishnova had flipped on Tess’s watch, and had already provided the people with so much damning evidence that Vodanyov could be put away for life on three continents.

“I know your name. I set colleagues after you,” Vodanyov said as he passed Tess.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tess said. “That’s what they all say.”

The press conference was heady and so was the standing ovation when she got back to the precinct house. One of the secretaries had run out and gotten a huge cake and there would be drinking at Rosie’s after shift. It was a good day to be one of New York’s finest.

But it became an even better day when she shut the door to her office, sat down to bask, and got a buzz on her intercom:

A certain “Robert” was on the line. No last name, just Robert. The caller had said that “Captain Vargas will know who I am, yo.” She did a little seated tap dance on the floor with her nicely stretched out new black pumps. It was the street kid she had tried to give her card to.

She picked up and said, “May I help you?”

“You said you could,” Robert shot back.

* * *

“It was so kind of you to meet with us,” Mrs. Suresh told Heather in their suite at the Ritz-Carlton. Despite the ravages of grief, she and Mr. Suresh were both very attractive people. Heather could see where Ravi had gotten his good looks.

Her throat tightened. She didn’t want to be here, drinking tea and lying.

“Yes, well now you know. He died trying to protect me,” she said. “He died instantly. He didn’t suffer.”

They were so grateful to hear that. Since Ilya was dead and Svetlana was being granted immunity in return for her testimony, no one would ever hear a different story.

“Good children are a blessing. Oh, Ravi, my angel,” Mrs. Suresh murmured, touching Heather’s cheek. Then she and her husband rose. It was time for them to go to the airport, to escort their son’s body home to India.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Had it really been only two weeks since they had nearly died aboard the
Sea Majesty
? It must be true, because Cat and Vincent had still not used up their vacation days. Forrest Daugherty had put them up in the presidential suite at the Four Seasons in Manhattan and he was arranging them a fall vacation with him and Bethany in Tuscany. His security people were about to bust his ex-wife’s mobbed-up boyfriend and he was overjoyed.

Now they were home, sweet, sweet home, which had been professionally cleaned and redecorated—also courtesy of Mr. Daugherty. They had not quite come to terms with the fact that Ravi Suresh had been killed in their living room, but since they hadn’t been there, or ever directly seen the aftermath, it was easier to keep it in the abstract. Heather had more issues, but nevertheless, she had insisted on meeting Vincent and Cat at the apartment when they returned from the Four Seasons just ten minutes before.

“It’s really not very safe to walk up a fire escape with a blindfold on,” Cat said as Heather tied a scarf over her eyes and placed Cat’s right hand on the handrail. Heather took her other hand.

“Just the last few steps,” Heather insisted, “so you can’t see the surprise.”

“We’ve had a lot of surprises lately,” Vincent said. Also blindfolded, he was close behind Cat and Heather on the stairs. Tess was guiding him up.

Cat and Heather reached the roof; Cat heard her sister take a deep breath and let it slowly out. Was she thinking of Ravi Suresh?

Languid Hawaiian slack-key guitar music began to play through speakers and for a moment, Cat was back on the
Sea Majesty
. The violence of their last hours aboard washed over her like a tsunami. The long flight home, the reunion with her sister, Tess, and JT… so much had happened.

But we made it through. Together.

Then as her blindfold was removed, she laughed and clapped her hands in delight. The rooftop had been transformed into an island paradise. Half a dozen potted palms were strung with strings of lights shaped like surfboards and ukuleles. Six folding chairs and a large oval table were covered with Hawaiian fabrics in a rainbow of hues. A paper honeycomb pineapple sat in the center of the table surrounded by a rainbow of plastic cocktail glasses garnished with colored tiki picks. Six places were set with red plastic tableware, hula girl-themed paper party plates, and matching napkins.

“Aloha,” Heather said, draping a fragrant lei of purple plumeria blossoms over Cat’s head and kissing her on the cheek.

“Aloha,” Tess said, placing a rope of knotted leaves around Vincent’s neck, then hesitating a moment before brushing her lips against his cheek. She herself wore a crown of white ginger.

“Aloha,” JT said from behind a portable bamboo bar. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, and a brown grass skirt over a pair of jeans. He pressed a button on Cat’s kitchen blender and it whirred to life. “Mai tai? Blue Hawaiian? One of each?”

“What is all this?” Cat cried.

“You never got to see Hawaii, so we’re bringing Hawaii to you,” Heather said. She and Tess were wrapping cellophane grass skirts over their pants, Heather in purple, Tess in red. Also draped in a grass skirt—hers was pink—Svetlana trotted up the fire escape carrying a large platter of miniature egg rolls and sushi.

“Aloha,” she said. It was clear she did not include herself among these old friends, but that she was making an effort to join in the celebration. “There is much food coming.”

As Svetlana came onto the roof, Tess went back down the stairs. “I’m getting the teriyaki chicken and the pasta salad,” she announced.

“We have coconut cream pie and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts for dessert,” Heather added. Her face was shining, and Cat was seized with another sharp, hard fear, just as when she had heard the Hawaiian music. She had almost lost her sister. Heather had almost
died.
Bad things did happen to people she loved, and loved deeply. There was no safety in this world.

Standing at the bar as JT poured frothy drinks into two of the plastic glasses and garnished them with maraschino cherries, Vincent caught Cat’s eye and held it. She could see strength in his firm jaw, courage in his steady gaze. And the love. So much love.

Calm began to seep into her anxiety. Warmth diminished the chill that had swept up her spine. Tonight he would lie down beside her and hold her. In the morning, he would be the first thing she saw. His body, the first thing she touched. And whatever that day brought, he would be there to take it on with her.

Every morning that she woke up beside Vincent, she would re-learn the most important lesson there was: that love really did conquer all.

We are always, always better together.

Vincent carried the drinks to her and held one out. She took it and they tapped the rims together, then sipped. Vincent peered through his lashes at her; she slid her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Rest. Here she could rest. She sighed contentedly and listened to his heartbeat, the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.

Below them, on the streets, a siren wailed and horns honked. The gritty city was grinding through another day. Men like Anatoly Vodanyov were wreaking havoc. And tomorrow she would wade back into it and do what she could to protect the innocent and make the world a little more just. But for now, she was
here
.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he murmured.

“You are my paradise.” She nestled her head under his chin.

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

They swayed as one under the neon moon in a glittering sea of asphalt, Beauty and her Beast.

* * *

It amazed Svetlana that despite her many documented and confessed crimes, she was allowed so much freedom—and to have a cell phone. In Russia, she would be rotting in a prison by now. In Russia, there would be no hope of witness protection. She was too small of a fish to be treated well.

As she watched the Americans, she smiled faintly at their childlike happiness. She was especially glad for Heather, who had put this party together. What a little fighter she had turned out to be. Most impressive. Her talents could be put to such good use.

However…

She walked a ways away and pulled out her phone. Dialed a number.

The connection was made, but no one spoke. She knew who was on the other end, and that he was waiting for her to speak first.

“Mr. Q, I have bad news. Chip two-six-two-b has been lost,” she said in Russian.

There was a pause. “You’re certain.” Also in Russian.

“Absolutely. It was destroyed on the ship.”

A longer pause. Then: “Where there is one undetected copy made and smuggled out, there can be another. There is a new possibility. A woman named Anne Vanderberg could be approached. A colleague of Suresh’s.”

“
Da
, so I’ve heard,” Svetlana said. “She seems malleable. But you would need a man for that, Mr. Q. And besides, I’m afraid that I’m retiring.”

“Really.”

“
Da
. But you know that you are safe with me. Always.” She could provide no useful information about him, and frankly would not want to. He had always been very good to her. He had treated her with the respect Vodanyov had never given her. The pig.

“Indeed I do know that I am safe. And as my thanks, I will give you what you want most. Anatoly Vodanyov will not see another sunrise.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank
you
, Svetlana, for your years of service. When you hang up, we shall be done. I shall miss you.”

“And I you, sir.” Although they had never met, and never would.

She hung up, and rejoined the party.

* * *

When Tess came out of Cat and Vincent’s bathroom, her face was streaked with tears. JT, who had gone into the kitchen to get more Kahlúa, set down the chocolate-colored bottle. They were alone in the apartment, and when she spotted him, she wiped her face and dropped her hand to her side.

“Hey,” she said. He had seen stiffer smiles—on corpses— and she sniffled, then turned her head.

“Tess, what’s wrong?” He came over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

The floodgates opened. Tess began to cry, great hiccupping sobs that pushed out of her and made her shoulders heave. His heart thundered as he led her to the sofa and sat her down. This was a party, the happy ending, but something was very, very wrong.

“Please tell me why you’re crying,” he said, taking her hands in his. “Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”

“JT, it’s just, for
weeks
I’ve been worried about something… that something… that I was…”

He wasn’t following, but he gave her his full attention. Was she sick? Dying?

“And we were so bad at taking care of Princess Mochi. That made it worse. We couldn’t even take care of a chihuahua. And we were fighting all the time. So how could we… if I was… it was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“But we found Mochi,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

She sobbed. “I know. I know, which is why I finally did it. Just now. I-I took a pregnancy test.”

“
What?
” He was thunderstruck. He’d had no idea. “And?”

“And I’m not.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m not pregnant.”

She kept crying, and to his amazement, JT felt like crying, too. Having a baby
them
would have been pretty wonderful. It would have been
amazing
.

“It’s okay, Tess,” he said, patting her. “We’ll have another scare. Soon. I promise.”

“Thanks.” She lifted her head and smiled weakly at him. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

He took the compliment and brightened a little. “In the meantime, we could get a dog.”