“You were faking?” the wasp man said, incredulous.
“Shut up!” Frank told him, glad that she was all right but worried that she might be more difficult to control than the handcuffed man on the floor.
This concern seemed warranted when the woman stood and started to walk out from behind the counter.
“Stay back,” Frank warned. “Don’t come any closer. Just stay right there.”
“For God’s sake,” she said to Frank, sounding more calm than he did. “Took you long enough. What was I going to have to do next? Strip naked to scare him out of here?”
“You knew I was in here?”
“Oh, yes, I saw you back by the roses a little earlier. Do you have a cold, dear?”
“No. You couldn’t know that I wasn’t with him,” he said, indicating the wasp man. Although the man stayed perfectly still and did not seem inclined to cause trouble, Frank never took his eyes off him.
“Well, yes, I did know. I expected you.”
“Expected me?”
“Yes, you personally. The man he’s been asking about gave me your picture.”
“What?”
“You’re Mr. Lefebvre’s other illegitimate brother, the policeman, right? Your brother — the living brother — told me you might see those flowers and use your police know-how to find out where they came from. And he said to tell you that there was no need to feel obligated to him or to me and that he’d already paid me in full. Which he did. Now, I must ask you — do you have a picture of your father? He must have been some man!”
Mercifully, the SWAT team arrived, sparing him from having to answer her.
33
Wednesday, July 12, 8:30 P.M.
The Kelly-Harriman Home
He was tired, he was hungry, and it occurred to him that after talking to Mrs. Garrity and dealing with all that had followed, he hadn’t remembered to buy flowers. The arrest had kept him at the station longer than it did the wasp man, whose lawyers — Dane’s lawyers — had him out of jail almost before he was booked, saying that he had done nothing more than try to help an elderly woman whom he believed was suffering a heart attack.
Mrs. Garrity had readily identified the spray of flowers in Frank’s photo, but hadn’t been able to provide many clues to the identity of the man who bought them.
“He was wearing a disguise, of course,” she said.
“You knew this at the time?” Frank asked. “And weren’t suspicious?”
“Yes, but after all, a person doesn’t want everyone on earth to know he was born out of wedlock. So I understood perfectly. He was wearing sunglasses, and a hat, and a wig — not a very good one. No mustache.”
“Well, that’s something to go on!” Pete said.
“Sarcasm does not become you,” she said.
“How tall was he?” Frank asked.
“Not as tall as you, not as diminutive as Detective Sass here. Did he pass the height requirements for the department?”
“I used to,” Pete answered, “but witnesses like you have worn me down.”
She had not studied the man too closely, having been distracted by stories of legions of bastards roaming Las Piernas and by envisioning the all-white arrangement of flowers. She had complimented Frank on his photography and asked if he would send a copy of the photo to her.
“I’m quite proud of that arrangement!” she said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go home and change my clothes.”
As he came in the door, the dogs greeted him. Seth was not far behind, jumping up and down and shouting, “He’s home! He’s home!” as if a fanfare ought to be playing, a red carpet rolled out.
“Hello, Seth,” he said, not feeling so tired after all.
“We’ve been watching about you on TV! Tell me about the bad guy in the flower shop.”
He groaned. There must have been a TV news team among the helicopters.
Irene came hurrying toward him, face full of worry, and hugged him tightly. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, I’m fine.”
“Your voice—”
“The smoke got it,” Seth explained. “My mom broke our window, so we got air. But he was in the smoke.”
Irene looked more worried than ever.
“Safe and sound,” Frank said. “Both then and this evening. Sorry you even had to think about it — it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Did you shoot him?” Seth asked.
“No. Nobody shot anybody.”
“Seth!” Elena’s voice called. “Let Frank have a chance to come in the door.”
Frank bent closer to Irene’s ear and said softly, “I didn’t mean to spring them on you like this…”
She laughed, but he didn’t think there was a lot of humor in it.
“You missed it!” Seth said with relish.
“Seth!” Elena’s voice warned.
He walked in to find Elena sitting on the couch. She was petting Cody, who had taken up residence on her lap. He still had an arm around Irene and felt the tension in her shoulders.
“Everything okay?” he asked warily.
“Fine,” Irene said.
“They were going to kill each other!” Seth said.
“A misunderstanding,” Irene said, blushing.
Elena looked embarrassed, too.
Frank felt a nearly overwhelming urge to go back to the office.
“It’s okay now,” Seth said. “I made them be friends. But they were fighting! And saying the S-word! And the B-word. And even…”
“Seth…” Elena warned.
“…the F-word!”
“Seth Lefebvre!”
“And,” he added in a lowered voice, “they fought naked!”
“I had a robe on!” Irene protested.
“Naked fighting…”
“And I had grabbed a towel by the time you came in, Mr. Tattletale,” Elena said.
“…swearing ladies!”
“Seth!” the women shouted in unison.
Seth gave Frank a look that asked Who are you going to believe?
“Well,” said Frank, doing his damnedest not to laugh, “I’m glad you were able to make them be friends.” He looked between the women and saw that he wasn’t going to get any immediate answers. Certainly not about naked fighting swearing ladies. Not only was he not going to get answers, their faces said, he shouldn’t dare to ask any questions. He was still tempted to try, but decided he’d had enough heroic action for one day, and accordingly changed the subject. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked Seth.
“I wanted to wait…” Seth began.
“He did,” Irene said. “But I was hungry after all that swearing and nude boxing, so I went ahead and ordered pizza. Is that okay?”
“That’s great,” he said. “I get home late a lot, Seth — so you should eat when you’re hungry.”
“I want to eat with you.”
The pizza arrived, and over dinner the mood seemed more relaxed, although Elena was quiet. Seth talked about going for a walk on the beach with Irene and the dogs. When Frank asked if Elena had joined them, he learned that she had stayed at home.
“I was admiring your garden,” she said quickly. “One of the things I miss — we can’t have a garden at the condo.”
“I grew a potato in a jar,” Seth reminded her.
“Yes, I’d forgotten that.”
“Irene flew with my dad in his plane,” Seth said to Frank.
Frank happened to be looking at Elena when Seth said it and saw her wince.
Seth was rambling on, talking a mile a minute about the dogs, the beach, his new pal Irene.
“So, Elena,” Frank said when Seth paused for breath, “I haven’t even asked you about where you work.”
“I’m a PI now,” she said. “I got my license not long after I left the department.”
“Pete’s wife is a PI. You should meet her. You’d get along great. Are you on your own or with a company?”