The Borrowed and Blue Murders (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) (23 page)

Molly skipped into the room, drowning out the end of his sentence. “Anna says dinner’s ready and we should go sit down.”

“Good. Smells terrific.” Sam excused himself to wash his hands. “Did you wash up, Molls?” I reached for her hands. “Of course.” She held them up for inspection, a question on her face. “Mom?” Her voice was somber. “What’s a dirty bomb?”

“W
HAT, YOU DON’T
know? A sophisticated chick like you?” Sam stepped out of the powder room, rescuing me.

Molly blinked at him.

“A dirty bomb is a Broadway show that has so many bad words in it that nobody wants to see it.”

“No, it’s not.” Molly wasn’t fooled.

“It’s not?” Sam chuckled, wheezing. “Then you tell me. What do you think it is?”

Molly looked up at me, wanting the truth. “Mom. Tell me.”

I hesitated, squeezing her hand. “It’s a—”

“It’s what I said.” Sam was insistent now, as if daring me to contradict him. “And it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s just a term.”

A term?

“Hey, Molly,” Sam went on. “What do you say to a blue elephant?”

Molly ignored him and kept looking at me, waiting for me to answer her. I tried never to lie to her, but I didn’t want my six-year- old daughter to have to deal with the dangers of nuclear warfare or terrorists. “A dirty bomb might be part of a case Nick’s working on, Molls. Police business, nothing for us to worry about.” There. Well done. That was true. Sort of.

Molly seemed satisfied. “Anna said to tell you she’s ready to go home.” She scampered back toward the kitchen.

I changed Luke and, while we ate, he gurgled in his portable rocker and the rest of us sat around the dining room table, going through the motions of a normal family having a normal meal. As we ate, Sam regaled us with entertaining and fascinating facts. Did Molly know, for example, that the reason Prussian soldiers had buttons on their sleeves was not for decoration or utility but to prevent them from wiping their noses there? Unfortunately, Molly’s reaction of “Ewww” encouraged Sam, who proceeded to share even grosser shards of history. But I didn’t complain. Sam was doing me a favor, keeping Molly occupied, allowing me to force a few bites of meat loaf down my throat. And when dinner was finished, Sam engaged Molly in clearing the table, announcing that they would do the dishes together, leaving me on my own. And, on my own, I wandered from room to room, closing blinds, lowering shades, locking windows. Whoever had mugged Tony had warned him that they’d be back, and that there would be dire consequences if he didn’t hand over what they wanted. Where were Tony and Nick? What was keeping them so long? I picked up Luke, carried him with me from room to room, feeling locked inside the house, a prisoner, or maybe a guard.

The phone rang when Luke and I were circling my bedroom, and hoping it was Nick, I grabbed it.

“Zoe, I hope today was as good for you as it was for me.” Susan’s voice purred, relaxed, teasing.

What? It took a moment to remember what she was referring to. Oh, the spa. “Yes, it was. It was great. Thanks again.” How was I supposed to discuss spa days and massages when terrorists might be coming after my family? Not to mention attacking the city?

“Oh dear. We’re in that kind of mood again. Today was supposed to relax you. I guess it didn’t last long.”

“No. Really. It did. Today was wonderful.” My voice contradicted my words.

Susan sighed. “Okay, spill. What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You know, it’s normal to have pre-wedding jitters. Trust me. I had them, too. But you’ll be fine—”

“Susan, it’s not jitters.” Why had I said that? Let her think it was jitters.

Susan waited a second. “Okay. Then what is it?”

And without thinking, without hesitating, I told her. I set Luke down on the bed and sat beside him, telling her what she already knew and what she didn’t. About Bryce Edmond and Bonnie Osterman, about Tony’s mugging, about the jump drives and the dead agent. I didn’t mention the idea of a dirty bomb or the presence of Eli because, before I got to them, Susan interrupted.

“Wait; I’m confused.” Susan sounded completely lost. “Who are you saying killed the agent? Your patient from the Institute who cuts women’s bellies? Or terrorists who thought she swallowed the jump drives? Or somebody from Homeland Security?”

But Susan had missed the point. “It doesn’t matter who did it, Susan. Whoever killed her, those muggers still want the jump drives. They told Tony they’d be back. They beat him and threatened him. But he can’t give them the drives because Nick took the drives to the FBI—”

“Calm down, Zoe.”

Was she kidding? “Are you kidding?”

“It won’t help to get nervous.” She sounded nervous. “Look, maybe you guys should get out of there. Doesn’t Sam have a suite at the Four Seasons? Couldn’t you stay there?”

“I guess. But we couldn’t stay there forever.”

“This won’t last forever—you have just a couple days until the wedding. And then Tony will be leaving, so whoever is bothering him will have to let up.”

“No. The wedding isn’t going to change anything, not anything this big, and besides …” I paused, not ready to say it out loud.

“Besides what?”

“I’m thinking of postponing the wedding.” There. I’d said it.

“No, you’re not.”

“But I am.”

She exhaled, loudly. Kind of a snort.

“Say something.”

“Zoe, look. I don’t know what to say. That is the single most stupid, most irresponsible, most incomprehensible, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say—”

“No, it’s not. Susan. People are getting killed here, being hit by cars, beaten up and threatened. My house is invaded and ransacked. My kids are in danger. How can I in good conscience put on a lacy gown and act like everything’s just peachy—”

“Okay, I’ll tell you how. You just do it. And you can because not to means to give in to them and to fear. You can because you can’t let the bad guys—whoever they are—interfere with your life or your family. You can because you owe it to Nick, not to mention to his brothers, who’ve come here for the ceremony. And to me, who’s bought a very expensive hotter-than-you-can-imagine matron-of- honor dress. And to Anna, who’s poured her soul into this affair. And to Molly, who’s going to be an amazing flower girl. And to all your guests and friends who are—”

“Okay, you can stop.” She didn’t get it. “I didn’t say I’d decided anything. I just wanted to warn you. In case.”

“Zoe, just remember you’ve already postponed this wedding because of your pregnancy.”

She was right. Nick and I had waited to get married because the pregnancy had been high risk; I’d been on bed rest with Luke for four months.

“Luke deserves to have married parents.”

“We’re going to get married.” She was trying to make me feel guilty. “It’s just a matter of when.”

She hesitated. I could almost hear her thinking. “What does Nick say about this?”

Well, he hadn’t said anything. He had not a clue. “We still have to talk.”

“Oh God, Zoe. Don’t even mention it to Nick. Don’t do it. He’ll be hurt. It’s bad karma, plain and simple. I get it. You’re overwhelmed with what’s going on, but don’t postpone your wedding. Just don’t.”

She was still talking when I heard Nick and Tony come in. I could hear Nick, asking Molly where her mom was, heard her tell him I was upstairs with Luke.

“Susan, I’ve got to go. Call you later.”

I hung up and lay on my bed beside Luke, stroking his cheek, listening to him coo, hearing Nick’s footsteps coming up the steps, waiting for him to join us.

“W
E STUCK AROUND TO
make sure they were going to the right guys. I gave it to Schultz myself.”

Schultz? Was I supposed to know who that was?

“He’s attached to Homeland Security, a computer genius for the FBI, works with security and encryptions.” Nick took his shoes off, sat on the bed. “He came up from D.C., and he wanted to talk to Tony. It’s a good thing Tony came with me. They spent quite a while together, working out a plan. That’s what took so long.”

“Susan thinks we should go to a hotel.” I felt Luke’s breath on my hand, smelled his sweetness.

Nick stretched out opposite me, our baby between us. “Okay. I give up. Why?”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Nick. Those guys threatened Tony’s life. And they’re going to be back—”

“Shhh.” He reached out, put his hand on my cheek. He was trying to be soothing. “Listen, Zoe. If people like that want to find you, they’ll find you in a hotel just as easily as they will at home.”

Great.

“And there’s safety in numbers. We’ve already made arrangements so that you and the kids are never alone. There are always at least three people here. And, remember, these guys have already been here. They tossed the place and didn’t find what they wanted. I doubt they’re coming back—they’re relying on Tony to get them what they want.”

“But they said they’d—”

“They wanted to scare him.”

For some reason, Nick’s opinion didn’t comfort me. I put my arm around Luke, shielding him from something unseen. Nick covered my arm with his hand.

“Zoe. No one is going to attack our house.”

Our house? He’d called it ours. I needed to go on. “Maybe not. But there’s something else.” I paused; he watched me, waiting. “I was thinking that, what with everything that’s happened …” I looked at him, hoping he’d pick up my sentence and finish it for me. But he didn’t. He waited. I started again.

“Maybe, with everything that’s happened, we should, I don’t know, postpone the wedding?”

His hand moved away from my arm. He looked away, then back to me. He propped himself up on an elbow, then sat up. “Postpone it? Why?” He looked lost.

Susan had been right. I shouldn’t have suggested it. Nick was hurt. He didn’t understand. “You don’t want to get married?”

“Of course I do.” It was true. I did. I wanted to be Mrs. Nick Stiles. “But I don’t want the wedding to be blown up—”

He smiled his half smile, relieved. “Nobody’s going to blow us up.”

“But Tony should lie low, shouldn’t he? What if—”

In a heartbeat, Nick leaned over, covering my mouth with his, stopping me mid-syllable. His lips were tender, his kiss steady and deep. It spoke for him, assuring me that we were, that we would be, all right.

With Luke between us, Nick and I lay face-to-face, and I listened to him tell me that we’d waited long enough for the wedding. The pregnancy and Luke’s birth had delayed it. A hefty chunk of the Philadelphia police force had been invited, so we would be safe. And besides, all the plans had been made, nonrefundable deposits paid. Besides all of that, he was half-Jewish.

He said that he was half-Jewish as if it held the final word about our wedding. “What does being Jewish have to do with it?” We weren’t having a religious ceremony. A friend of Nick’s, a judge, was going to marry us.

“In Jewish tradition, life take precedence over death.”

Wait. Life over death? What? Again, he seemed to think he’d made sense. “Okay.” I had no idea what he meant.

He propped himself on an elbow. “It’s like this. Celebrations of life don’t get shoved aside or postponed or canceled because of events of death. Or even threats of death. A wedding is a life celebration. It’s not to be delayed. Even if one of our immediate family were to die, the wedding would proceed. Life takes precedence over death.”

Oh. I gazed at Nick, marveling. I’d lived with this man for over a year. I’d had his child. And, until this moment, I hadn’t had the slightest idea that his religious heritage had meant a thing to him. Even now, I had no idea if he held any religious beliefs or what they might be. It was startling, alarming. Shouldn’t we know that about each other? What else didn’t I know about him, or he about me? In so many ways, we were still strangers. Were we really ready to get married?

Luke squealed happily, holding his feet in the air, grabbling them with pudgy hands. And I looked from the baby to the father, his familiar scar, his asymmetrical smile, his cool and knowing blue eyes. It was a face etched into my being. I had come to rely on it, had tethered my heart to its expressions. If Nick wanted the wedding, we would have it as planned. After all, he and Susan both thought the wedding should proceed, and he and Susan couldn’t both be wrong. They wouldn’t want us to go ahead unless they were sure it was safe.

I
TOSSED ALL NIGHT
, didn’t fall asleep until almost dawn. And as soon as I did, Luke blared like a trusty alarm clock, waking up, wanting breakfast. By the time he’d been fed and changed, Molly was up and my opportunity for rest had disappeared. Fortunately, I was too tired to think. I wandered through the morning on autopilot, putting on the coffeemaker, getting the newspaper and taking Oliver out, giving him his kibble and Molly a bowl of cereal and some juice, letting her watch television as she ate as long as it didn’t wake up her uncles. It wasn’t until the doorbell rang and Anna arrived, spinning a whirlwind of frenetic energy, that I woke up enough to realize what day it was. It was Friday. The day before the wedding. Oh God. I sat on a kitchen stool, my heart pounding in my throat.

This was it. I was getting married, committing myself to Nick for life. Memories swirled in my mind of my other wedding, the first time I’d committed myself to a man for life. That was different, I told myself. That was a mistake. But, at the time, I hadn’t thought it was a mistake. I’d been sure of Michael and me, hadn’t I? When I’d married Michael, I’d intended to spend my life with him, get old together, raise kids, the whole shebang. But look what had happened. Michael hadn’t been who I’d thought he was, or maybe I hadn’t been who he’d thought I was. Or maybe we’d both been who we’d thought, but both of us had changed. Or maybe we hadn’t known each other well enough to know who either of us was. At any rate, the end had come, and it had been brutal. A disaster, really. I hadn’t recovered, hadn’t even dated anyone for years afterward. In fact, Nick was the first man I’d seen seriously after Michael. So, in a way, I’d met Nick on the rebound. How could I be sure this time was right? I’d known Michael for years before marrying him, and that marriage had failed. By contrast, I hardly knew Nick—we’d met not even two years before.