If Wishing Made It So (23 page)

Hildy kissed Mike again. ‘‘Mike, I would love to live at the shore. Ever since I arrived here, I felt as if I were in a new world that I didn’t want to leave.’’ She paused, then spoke quickly. ‘‘Listen, I have a suggestion. It’s off the top of my head, but I think it might work. We can keep my house in Lehman as a vacation home. It’s near your mom. We can go up there on holidays and weekends, and the kids would love summers in the mountains where we grew up. It will be perfect—’’

‘‘It sounds great, Hildy.’’ Excitement swept him up. Then he saw her face, which had turned worried and a little sad. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’

‘‘You’re still engaged to Kiki, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Technically. I wanted to end things last night. I didn’t get the chance. She was asleep when I got in and she was still sleeping when I left this morning.’’ Thinking about the previous evening made Mike uncomfortable. He hoped there weren’t going to be any unforeseen complications because of his stupidly getting drunk. He pushed the thought away. Why worry about something that may not have even happened?

‘‘Maybe we shouldn’t be making plans for
us
when there isn’t any
us,
at least not yet,’’ she said.

‘‘Hildy, listen to me.’’ He put his hands on each side of her face. ‘‘I love you. I love
you.
I always have. I won’t let
anything
keep us from being together. I give you my word. From this time on, there is an
us.
Whatever happened before today, please let it be the past. We can deal with it.
Us
, you and I, are the future. No matter what, Hildy. I promise you.’’

‘‘Mike, please mean that, because it would break my heart forever if it’s not true.’’

‘‘Hildy, trust me. I would never let you down.’’

Chapter 22

Flushed with happiness, Hildy returned to the cottage with Mike late in the afternoon, at an hour when the light turns golden, sounds diminish, and shadows lengthen. She had been given a halcyon day. No murmur of disquietude marred her pleasure at simply being with the man she had loved in secret for so long and now was loved by in return. She didn’t realize that such a still, sweet interlude often comes before the worst of storms.

They found Corrine, a magazine in her lap, on the sunporch, sitting alone except for the presence of Shelley and Keats, who had finished with their ‘‘play date.’’ The cats sprawled under the chaise lounge, lazy and content. According to what Corrine had learned from Mrs. Baier, their afternoon included Fancy Feast and fresh cream. Corrine added, ‘‘Your neighbor said she would be delighted to have your ‘dear little kitties’ visit again soon. ‘They make Henry so happy.’ Is Henry her grandchild? She seemed to think I knew.’’

‘‘Henry is her lonely Siamese,’’ Hildy responded, then spoke sotto voce near Corrine’s ear. ‘‘Where’s the, you know, the bottle?’’

Corrine whispered back, ‘‘The bottle is in the hall closet. Tony forbade me to put him back in the refrigerator. He’s a charming’’—she choked on the word—‘‘
genie
. Wait until you see what he brought you.’’

Corrine tried to wag her eyebrows. Hildy thought she looked as if she had developed a tic. She couldn’t begin to guess what Tony G. had for her that would provoke that kind of response.

Then Corrine turned to Mike. She smiled sweetly and asked him where he was going now. Discovering that he was heading back to Atlantic City, Corrine suggested that he save Hildy the trouble of driving her back to the St. Vladimir’s bus.

Mike looked at Hildy. She thought she detected panic in his amber eyes. She was going to override Corrine’s suggestion. Then she thought that if Mike truly meant everything he said, he could handle Corrine’s scrutiny. If he didn’t measure up, Hildy would hear about it the minute Corrine stepped out of his car and could get to her cell phone.

‘‘You know,’’ she said to Mike, ‘‘I’d really appreciate it if you gave Corrine a lift. The ride is a perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other better.’’

When Mike leaned over to kiss Hildy goodbye, chastely, on the cheek, he whispered, ‘‘I’ll get even with you for this.’’

Corrine, for her part, winked at Hildy as she went out the door. Hildy’s nephew and two nieces didn’t call their mother the Interrogator for nothing.

Hildy stood in the doorway and waved. As soon as Mike’s car turned the corner and disappeared from sight, she went back into the shadows of the house. She took the bottle from the closet floor and pulled out the stopper.

A plume of smoke, robust, edged with gold, and shot through with scarlet, rose up from the bottle’s depths. The genie, when he materialized, filled the room with his presence.
‘‘Salve,’’
he said in greeting and saluted Hildy with great formality.
‘‘Omnia vincit amor,
it seems.’’

‘‘Are you being sarcastic?’’ Hildy said, her hands on her hips.

‘‘It would do you well to remember that a battle isn’t won alone,’’ he said, his hand on his sword.

‘‘Mike and I are doing just fine
without
your interference, if that’s what you are suggesting,’’ Hildy said.

‘‘Maybe you are. And maybe you are again underestimating your opponent. She is not going to surrender the field without a fight unless—’’

‘‘Unless what?’’ Hildy’s brows drew together; she wondered where this conversation was headed.

‘‘Unless you have a secret weapon.’’

‘‘You mean you, of course,’’ Hildy said, waving him away and walking toward the kitchen for a glass of lemonade. ‘‘I really think Mike and I are past that point. He’s breaking up with her tonight.’’

‘‘As a matter of fact, I didn’t mean me in this instance.’’ The genie suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. A freshly poured glass of lemonade floated before him. He handed it over to Hildy and steered her back into the dining room. ‘‘Sit. I need to show you something.’’

Hildy sat. The genie reached into the air and plucked his camera phone from some unseen place. He flipped it open, fiddled with the settings, then handed it to her. ‘‘Look.’’

Hildy glanced at the picture and promptly choked on a swallow of lemonade. ‘‘No! Oh my god! Is that you and—I can’t look at this. How could you!’’

‘‘It wasn’t difficult, I assure you. Kiki suggested it, not I.’’

‘‘It’s disgusting. Take it back.’’ She shoved the camera phone against his chest.

Tony G. scrutinized the photo he had shown Hildy. He pressed the FORWARD button and reviewedthe rest of the images he had stored there. ‘‘I don’t think the pictures are at all disgusting. I did a superb job of photography. But they are incriminating. This Kiki is talented in some very surprising ways. Did you know she has a stud in her tongue?’’

‘‘I most certainly did not! Why did you take those? No, more to the point, why did you do
that
with her?’’

Tony turned serious. ‘‘Ms. Caldwell, you need to know your enemy. I certainly do. She felt she had to convince me that I wasn’t taking advantage of her. She explained to me, to salve my conscience, that her profession requires her to travel a lot. When she’s on the road, she enjoys more than the scenery.’’

‘‘No! How could she! She’s engaged to Michael. Why would she insist on commitment if she wants to sleep around?’’

‘‘Oh, that. Do you know the reason she wants to marry your Michael?’’

‘‘She actually loves him?’’ Hildy answered, bewildered, realizing that love was now an improbable reason.

‘‘Her behavior with me could make a prima facie case that she doesn’t. But I didn’t need her to, shall we say, pleasure me to know that. It was evident in the way she behaved around him. She thinks he is an idiot—a good-natured, very handsome, extremely wealthy, easily manipulated idiot.’’

‘‘And that’s enough reason to marry him? I don’t believe it. Poor Mike.’’ Hildy put her head on her arms. She felt shocked and terribly sad that Mike had been so misled.

‘‘No, it’s not enough reason to marry him. Her other motive is that he won’t make her sign a prenuptial. He doesn’t believe in them. He believes in
love.
See where that idealism gets you when the romance fades—taken to the cleaners. Ask that British singer, Paul McCartney.’’

Hildy looked up, her face flushed. ‘‘It doesn’t matter anymore. Tony, listen to me. You cannot ever let Mike see those pictures you took. It would be cruel, and it’s not necessary. He doesn’t ever need to know what happened between you and Kiki. He’d be humiliated.’’

‘‘Ms. Caldwell, I never intended these pictures to be seen by your Mike. They’re leverage if that woman plays dirty. And I would wager she is going to.’’

‘‘I tell you it won’t matter what she does. Michael loves me. He asked me to trust him and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’’

The genie gave Hildy a pitying look. ‘‘Love is a fragile thing to put your faith in. I fear you are going to be gravely disappointed.’’

Hildy refused to let the genie put a damper on her good mood. She decided to take a shower and wash her hair. She felt sticky from the high humidity, which didn’t show any sign of breaking. She wanted to cool off and relax.

Tony G. said the weather was like this all summer in Rome. The heat didn’t bother him. It brought back fond memories. And he was incredibly bored. He’d fix them something for supper. How did she feel about a suckling pig?

Hildy had eaten enough to satisfy a bear when she was out with Mike. She requested a light salad of fresh baby greens, with perhaps some strips of grilled chicken and, naturally, dressing on the side.

The genie grunted. ‘‘Your wish is my command, but that’s not my idea of a meal.’’

A half hour later, Hildy emerged from the bathroom smelling of citrus, her wet hair wrapped in a white cotton towel. She went over to the small television in the living room to turn on the evening news. She wanted to catch the weather report to see what to expect tomorrow. She hoped the humidity would drop. She didn’t enjoy air you could wear. She almost wished the cottage had air-conditioning.

She had just begun to watch the
Evening Report
on NBC’s Channel Four when her cell phone rang. She jumped up and grabbed it, hoping it was Mike calling.

It wasn’t.

The minute Corrine left Mike’s car she did phone Hildy. She had no quarrel with Mike’s sincerity or his professed love for her little sister. But she had learned something very disturbing, and Hildy needed to know about it.

‘‘Hildy,’’ she snapped into the phone, ‘‘did you and Tony discuss my suggestion to eliminate your ‘bug problem’?’’

‘‘Eliminate my bug problem? No, he didn’t tell me anything.’’ Hildy looked at Tony and asked him in body language what Corrine meant. He shook his head and twirled his finger alongside his temple, indicating it was a crazy idea.

‘‘Make sure you ask him!’’ She was clearly irritated. ‘‘Did you tell Mike about our nearly being abducted? Did you tell him the mob is after you?’’

Hildy frowned. ‘‘Of course not. I couldn’t tell him about finding a genie in a bottle, now could I? Even you didn’t believe me. He’d think I was out of my mind.’’

‘‘How do you think he’s going to react when he finds out about your having a Roman soldier living with you?’’

‘‘Corrine, he’s not going to find out, now is he!’’ Hildy started to hyperventilate. ‘‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’’

‘‘I’m offended that you would think I would,’’ Corrine huffed. ‘‘But I see trouble ahead if you don’t.’’

‘‘Is this why you called me?’’ Hildy’s voice went up an octave as her throat tightened. ‘‘Can’t you let me feel good for five minutes before telling me how I’m going to screw everything up?’’ A fight between the two sisters seemed on the verge of erupting, but Corrine cut Hildy off.

‘‘Hildy, hush. That’s not why I called you. I called about a matter of life and death.’’

‘‘What do you mean? Is it Mike? What’s wrong?’’

‘‘Listen to me carefully. Did Mike tell you about the first case his new detective agency is tackling?’’

‘‘No. We didn’t talk about it. Why?’’

‘‘He and his partner have a lead on recovering stolen construction equipment. He got a call about it while I was in the car. He and his partner have something happening tonight.’’

‘‘Huh?’’ Hildy’s confusion forestalled anything more articulate. Recovering construction equipment didn’t sound dangerous, not like confronting drug dealers or anything. ‘‘I don’t understand. What’s the problem?’’

‘‘The problem is, Mike said the man behind the construction thefts is Jimmy the Bug. He’s going after him. Ask Tony about the security at Mr. Bug’s office. If Mike shows up there, he’s dead, Hildy. It’s a trap. He’ll be killed unless you stop him.’’

Hildy’s face turned ghostly pale and the phone slipped from her hand.

Chapter 23

The shit had also hit the fan, as the saying goes, when Jimmy the Bug’s crew came staggering into the motel on Route 202, where their boss kept his office. A one-story concrete structure built in the 1950s, the Sleep-E-Z Motor Lodge had a NO VACANCY sign permanently lit out front. Adjacent to the sign, an empty swimming pool, its aqua paint peeling and its bottom filled with dead leaves, was surrounded by a faded wooden privacy fence. The high fence provided the added benefit of hiding most of the motel from anyone passing on the road.

To make things look legitimate, a few cars always sat in the numbered parking places outside the rooms of the long, low structure. But few people knew about the large parking lot behind the building. Sheltered by scrub pines and invisible from Route 202, the lot was nearly as big as a football field. One or two flatbed trailers occasionally pulled in there overnight; there was a loaded one there right now. But no truck ever stayed more than a few days.

Also, parked farthest from the motel and hugging the woods, twelve skid steers and three backhoes sat under dingy gray and mildewed tarps. Their presence was highly unusual. Jimmy never kept stolen equipment for more than a week, and even that length of time made him nervous.