"What the h.e.l.l for?"

"Beats me. He didn't leave a note."

"That is sick," said Dominic.

Carlos took another bite of his candy bar and shook the stub at me. "So, what did I miss? Were you talking about me?"

"No. Dominic and I were just talking about Ursula and how"

"The wedding," said Dominic, and the look he gave me told me to let it go. He turned to Carlos and smiled nervously. "She wants to do a handfasting ceremony."

"Handfasting? What is that?" He looked at me. I had no idea either.

"It's an ancient custom," Dominic said. "A pagan thing. See, traditionally, the bride and groom spend the last twenty-four hours before the wedding with their hands tied together. It is supposed to strengthen their commitment and symbolizes the eternal bond that they will pledge to one another. It is where the phrase tying the knot comes from."

"They walk around like that all day?"

"Yup, all day."

"What do they do when one of them has to...."

"Go to the bathroom?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I guess they go to the bathroom."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "Did Ursula suggest this?"

"Yes. She said she wanted a handfasting wedding. I told her okay."

"Did you know what that was?"

"Sure I knew, but what could I say?"

"Well, that sucks," said Carlos. "I wouldn't want anyone in the bathroom with me when I drop a duce."

I laughed openly. "Carlos, trust me. n.o.body wants to be in the bathroom with you when you drop a duce."

Dominic said, "Can we please not go there?"

"Ooh, that reminds me. Dominic, Ursula has something for you. I was supposed to bring it with me this morning and give it to you, but I forgot."

"What is it?"

"A promise stone."

"A what?" Carlos asked.

Dominic said, "I know what it is. It is like a river rock. She makes a promise on it, locks the promise in with a spell and then gives it to me. That way I hold her promise for as long as I want and she can't take it back."

"The stone or the promise?"

"Both."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"Yes, sticky sweet," I said. "Sorry, Dominic. I'll go back to the house later today and get it for you."

"All right, but while you're there, don't mention to Ursula that I said anything about the handfasting thing."

"Don't worry. I won't. Carlos." I gave a nod. "Would you get the phone?"

"What?" He alternated glances between the phone and me. Two seconds later, it rang.

He answered it. "Detective Rodriquez, Second Precinct. How may I help you?"

Dominic continued. "Like I was saying, Tony, I don't want Ursula to think I have reservations about spending the day before the wedding bond to her."

"I understand. I promise I won't say a word. But I will ask Lilith if there are provisions in the custom allowing for bathroom breaks."

"No. Don't. She will only tell Ursula. You know, on second thought, forget I said anything at all."

"Dominic, I don't know why you"

"That's it," said Carlos, hanging up the phone with a heavy hand. "We have to roll."

"Where to?"

"That was a Mister Ferguson at the Biocrynetix Laboratories down off Lexington. Seems someone stole company plans to a top-secret project they were working on. We gotta go check it out."

"All right," I said, wringing my hands briskly. "A nice white collar crime for a change. This should be good." I stood and came around the desk. "You driving?"

Carlos pulled his keys from his pocket. "Can we take my Corvette?"

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the keys from his hand as I brushed pa.s.sed him. "Sure. I'll drive?"

Out in the parking lot, I clicked the remote alarm b.u.t.ton on Carlos' keychain. A black Corvette five s.p.a.ces down chirped twice. I looked at Carlos, convinced there must be a mistake.

"It's black," I said.

"Yes."

"I thought you had a red Corvette."

"I do."

"But now you also have a black one?"

"Ah-huh."

"How come?"

"I don't know. I wanted a black one."

"So, you have two Corvettes now?"

"No. I have four."

"You have four cars?"

He grimaced mildly. "No, I have seven cars."

"Seven?"

"Yes. Four vets, a Mercedes, a dune buggy and a monster truck."

"You have a monster truck?"

"Yeah."

"Carlos, why on earth do you need seven vehicles?"

He laughed. "Tony, I don't need seven vehicles. Who needs seven vehicles?"

"That's my question. Why do you have seven?"

He gave me that look again. "Because the garage I bought has seven bays."

I rolled my eyes skyward. "You win twelve million dollars in a lottery and this is what you do with your money?"

"No. Not all of it."

"Good. You still have some left?"

"Of course." He punched me on the arm and snorted when he laughed. "But it wasn't twelve million, you know."

"I thought it was."

"I took the cash lump sum, $4,669,714. That's after taxes."

"My-my. However do you manage?"

"I get by."

"I'm sure."

"That reminds me. Can I borrow a twenty?"

"You want to borrow money from me?"

"Yeah."

"What for?"

"The Vette needs gas."

"And you have no money on you?"

"No, but I'll give it back to you on payday."

"You are kidding, right?"

He blinked back a perplexing gaze. "I'm not kidding. You know I'm good for it."

"Carlos, that's not what I...." I took a breath and counted to three. "Yes, of course. I know you're good for it." I pressed the keys to his chest. "Maybe you should drive. I think I'm going to be sick."

I started toward the car. Carlos called out, "Wait. If you're going to be sick, maybe we should take the sedan."

THREE.

Security at Biocrynetix Laboratories seemed unusually tight for a private research facility. After obtaining clearance from a guard at the gate, one at the front door and another at the reception station, we still needed to show our police IDs just to ride the elevator up to the research floors. Even our own Justice Center did not sport that kind of security. But then, at the Justice Center we did not deal in sensitive R&D programs worth billions in market returns.

J.P. Ferguson, CEO of Biocrynetix Laboratories, kept an office on the third floor overlooking a manmade pond, complete with gazebo, a dock and a flock of portly-bellied Mallards. He invited us in, and after introductions, offered up a couple of seats across from his desk.

"Mister Ferguson," said Carlos, "I'm the one you spoke with over the phone awhile ago."

"Of course, Detective Rodriquez. I told you then, and for the benefit of your partner, I will reiterate. I wish to keep this investigation low-keyed, if you know what I mean."

"You don't want publicity."

"Exactly. Our investors hail from the private sector. They guard their portfolios fiercely and prefer anonymity. We are on the cusp of introducing a serious breakthrough in developments. Therefore, it remains imperative we keep this news under wraps for our clients' sake, so not to compromise their leverage in post-production negotiations."

"Negotiations?"

"In controlling the disposition of the product."

"I see." Carlos jotted something into his notebook, though I doubt it was more than a series of question marks, for neither he nor I had a clue what Ferguson was talking about. I waited until Carlos gave me the look, effectively handing the torch off to me.

"Mister Ferguson," I said. "Would you mind telling us what that is? The product, I mean."

He hesitated, clearly debating whether we needed to know such specifics. I leaned forward in my chair, elbows on my lap, hands folded between my knees. "Sir." I kept my tone hushed and deliberate. "We appreciate the sensitive nature of corporate compet.i.tion and your obligation to prevaricate the esoterically challenged. However, I remind you, we are here to investigate the theft of your company's property. It will help considerably in our investigation if we know what that property is."