Chapter 47
Lillian
After surviving air turbulence and JFK traffic, we finally arrive back home in Queens. Inside our apartment, Buddy glances down from his throne on top of the fridge, licking his paw, the cat equivalent of the cold shoulder.
“Hey, kittums, how ya doin? I missed you.” When I reach up to pet him, he recoils, instead jumping to the kitchen table so his bestie can scratch his head.
“Yeah, I know, pal, we were gone for a long time, but we’re back.” Sean fills the gray water dish, then adds kibble to the almost empty blue bowl. It’s not kitty dinner time, but our little guy needs spoiling.
As I’m putting his food away, Grams knocks. “Hello-ee-oo. It’s us. Are you decent?”
When I open the door, it’s a free-for-all of group hugs and tears. We’re still drying our eyes when Grams sets a brown paper bag filled with pungent, spicy aromas on the table. “Chinese. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Yes. We haven’t eaten since breakfast. Thank you.” While I grab paper towels and plates, Becks unpacks dumplings, chicken, beef, veggies… so much food.
The moment Sean unwraps chopsticks, our fuzzy friend hops on a chair, two paws on the tabletop. “Mew?”
“Sorry, kittums.” I gently brush him to the floor. “No handouts.”
While he circles, murmuring cat curses at us, I uncork the last bottle of sauvignon blanc in the fridge and set it on the table.
Glasses full, I raise mine. “Cheers to family.”
Crystal clinks against crystal. As we sip, Ruthanne leans in, her tone conspiratorial. “Spill. Everything. We’re dying to know.”
“You can start by explaining the truck bomb in Jersey.” Becks exchanges a glance with Grams.
We’ve been set up.
“Give me a second.” Chewing, thinking, I eat a little, drink a little, then sigh.
“So, we’ve been working a case for our boss, Dante.
He suspected Parkhaven Investments of money laundering.
Jeff Pearson, a former spook, acted as their frontman.
He was the one who kidnapped Simone Hart and used CIA mind tricks to mold her into a suicidal jilted lover even though she had never met Sean. ”
“I didn’t know brainwashing was real.” Becks shakes her head. “That is so sad.”
“It is.” Standing, Sean refills his plate. “He also blew up the penthouse. Almost killed Lillian.”
“Whatever for?” Chopsticks pause halfway to Ruthie’s pink lips as she stares wide-eyed at her grandson.
“He thought Boyle was obsessed. Doing him a favor.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” My sister waves a hand in front of his face. “Back up, Sherlock. This Pearson guy knows our father?”
“Yep, they were in cahoots. Liam wanted Parkhaven out of the money laundering business. He hired an inside man to do it.” Eyes on me, Sean squeezes my hand.
Doesn’t take a mind reader to know he has sex on his mind.
I need to speed things up, but this is where things get complicated. “Okay, so Daddy Dearest wants heirs. He believes his genes contain some criminal super-power. Genes that can only be passed on through me.”
Grams nods. “I remember. Boyle brought you to the jungle last Christmas to marry his best friend. Go on. Go on.”
“Exactly. Father sees Sean as his biggest obstacle. When the bomb didn’t work, Jeff hired a pair of grifters to frame Sean, hoping to sow doubt in my mind. Not only did it fail, but it raised our suspicions. So, I pretended that Sean and I broke up and agreed to a date with Pearson.”
My sister gasps. “This is the same guy who tried to murder you. Are you nuts?”
“Yes. And no. Before you guys rescued me that night at Talon, Jeff made a huge mistake. He mentioned something about nondenominational holiday balls.”
Stretching, Becks walks to the fridge, opens the door, and stares at the empty shelves. “No more wine?”
“There’s a Cabernet in the rack…. Where was I? …Oh yeah. The balls. Apparently, Father bugged our favorite haunts. He gave Jeff a recording of the night Sean and I met. That’s how Simone knew about them.”
“But why go to Ireland?” My sister hands the bottle plus the corkscrew to Sean, who continues the story.
“To confront Pearson. Expose him in front of his investors. Put Parkhaven out of business.” His biceps bulge, followed by a sharp pop.
“Remember Mr. Fitzpatrick?” I jump back in. “Not only was he there, but he recognized me. Made a point of mentioning how Dad was in Dublin, too.”
Her glass full, Becks nods. “Fitz? Dad hated him.”
“Right. The two have a rivalry dating back to childhood, which is why he agreed to help us. We set up a trade. Father was captured during the exchange in San Antonio. The end.” I keep my eyes diverted from my partner because if I see him smirk, I’ll laugh.
Then, the evening will never end, and we’ll never have time for sex.
“So, it was Dad at the River Walk. I thought so. The viral video only showed him for a second. It did focus on two frogmen in the canal. I assume one of them was you, Sean?”
He grins. “Sorry. Confidential. Need to know only.”
“Bull.” Grams pulls out her wooden spoon, waving it at him. “I read about that biohazard incident, Sean James Clark.”
“I really can’t talk about it. I can say Liam Boyle wanted Parkhaven’s money to fund an epidemic. He was the only one with a cure. We stopped him.”
Eyes and mouth sad, Ruthie lowers her voice. “And Roger… your father, knew about this?”
Sean pats her wrinkled hands. “We don’t think so. He needed quick cash, a lot of it, to hide his embezzlement. By the way, he won’t be bothering you about a nursing home anymore.”
“And they lived happily…” Leaving the fortune cookies on the table, I start cleaning up. If I’m lucky, sex will be a double-header.
Covering tomorrow’s leftovers, my sister frowns. “Wait. Is Liam dead?”
“No, but the judge said no bail. Huge flight risk. On the bright side? He pissed off a lot of crime bosses. If we’re lucky, they’ll do him in for—”
Oh no. The smell.
I grab Sean’s hand, my eyes pleading… “Do something.”
Together, we open the window while one of Grams’s gawd-awful candles burns bright on the table. She waves a fortune cookie over it. Eyes closed, shaking her head, she says in her far-off ominous woo-woo voice, “More danger, my dears. More danger.”
Done with us, she turns to my sister. “A Mr. tall, brown, and handsome is in your future, but it won’t be easy.”
“Okay. Excellent. I think we’re done here.” Walking to the door, I open and shut it, hoping to move more air.
Grams licks her fingers, pinches out the flame, and winks. “I believe my grandson has something to add.”
“I wanted to do this right.” I gasp when Sean drops to one knee beside me. “Lillian, will you marry me? Be my partner? Share my life?”
Becks hisses, “Where’s the ring?”
As Ruthie shushes her with a wave of her wooden spoon, the man I love opens a fuzzy box. In it are two similar gold bands. One wide, one narrow, both embedded with diamond chips.
Equal, but different.
“You didn’t have to ask again. And yes, of course, yes.” Tears in my eyes, I slip to the floor, cup his cheeks, and kiss him.
By the time we break apart, the other two are long gone, and Buddy’s curled up on top of the fridge.
Sex is going to be awesome.