“Thank God I didn’t kill him,” Grace murmured. But the thought that the disgraced detective might be in a nearby room unsettled her.
B.J. turned from the television to look at her. “Did you hear that, Grace? Constance said
‘KTA employee
Grace Callahan.’ You got the job, baby!”
The phone rang almost immediately following the news report. It was her father, frantic with worry.
“I’m fine, Dad. Really, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m getting in the car and driving up there,” Walter Wiley said.
“You don’t have to do that, Dad.”
“I’ll be there by lunchtime.”
Grace replaced the receiver in the cradle, not unhappy, despite
her protestations, that her father would be with her soon. Maybe, with her newfound leverage, she could talk Frank into letting Lucy go home with her early and they could all go back to New Jersey together. Maybe B.J. would want to drive along with them.
When B.J. had gone down to the coffee shop to get them something decent to eat, the attending physician came in, checked her, and reiterated what B.J. had already told her. Grace could leave the hospital later in the day as long as she took it easy. She should see her own doctor at home.
A nurse came in with a comb, washcloth, and toothbrush. Grace walked carefully to the small bathroom and freshened up. When she came out again, Oliver Sloane was sitting in the vinyl-covered chair next to the bed, a bouquet of yellow roses in his lap.
He stood up. “Oh, Grace. Thank the good Lord you are all right.”
Grace smiled, touched that this man who had been through so much, lost so much, had come to see her. “I’m fine, Mr. Sloane. The doctor says I’m going to be fine.”
“I wanted to thank you, Grace. For everything you’ve done. Manzorella would have gotten away with everything if not for you. Charlotte, my sweet Madeleine, and those other poor young people.”
Grace sat back on the bed and pulled the thin cotton blanket over her legs. “I don’t know about that. I think the police would have figured things out sooner or later.”
Oliver grimaced. “Maybe, maybe not. They hadn’t figured anything out in fourteen years—why should we think they were going to do any better now? Who knows how many traitors they have in their midst?” he asked with bitterness in his voice.
She felt sorry for the man as she watched him. His wife and daughter dead, murdered by someone who wanted Oliver’s wife but could not have her. As a man who had dallied while married, even as his wife was trying to make things work out between them, Oliver had to be carrying around a great deal of guilt. That was for him to reconcile, if he possibly could, thought Grace. He was going to have some tough days ahead.
He handed her the flowers, and she thanked him. As he started for the door, she stopped him.
“I hesitate to tell you this,” Grace began, “but I think you’d want to know. The scrimshaw paperweight you gave me?”
“Yes?”
“It isn’t authentic, Mr. Sloane.”
“I don’t understand,” said Oliver.
“I tested it. It’s plastic of some sort.”
“How could that be?” asked Oliver, perplexed. “I purchased that piece from Kyle Seaton. He’s a very reputable dealer.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Sloane, but you might want to check the other pieces in your collection.”
The hospital had no problem allowing Lucy to be with her mother. At first the girl was solemn, her brown eyes frightened, but she relaxed after just a little while, reassured that Grace was all right. Fifteen minutes into the visit, Lucy was clicking the remote control, searching for a
Law & Order
rerun on the room’s television set.
“You like
Law & Order?”
B.J. asked.
“I
love Law & Order,”
Lucy corrected him.
“Me, too.”
Lucy looked at B.J. with interest, taking this tall guy’s measure. He might be all right. She couldn’t tell yet. But she did know one thing. Her mother didn’t seem like a sick person as she sat in that hospital bed. Her mother looked happy. Real happy.
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
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134