Chapter 112

PETER MET UP with Bailey again that night at the Alex Hotel. It had become their secret rendezvous point, at least until the trial was over. Their first night there had been highlighted by two bottles of Cristal, right before Peter left for the Bahamas. But ever since he had returned in handcuffs, no pricey bubbly had been flowing.Soon, though,thought Peter.He was feeling confident in the wake of the superb job Knowles did on Katherine with his cross-examination. It was a masterpiece, really.Couldn't have done it better myself. Well, maybe a little more painful shredding of Kat."Are you sure you still want to testify tomorrow?" asked Bailey, curled up next to Peter under the sheets. G.o.d, the girl had perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s, even when he couldn't actually see them and had to tell just by touch."Forget what they're teaching you at NYU," he answered. "Defendants in murder trials shouldalways testify. Besides, I've got absolutely nothing to hide. That's the best reason to testify."Bailey fell silent for a moment. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes as far as Peter was concerned. Something was troubling the la.s.s."What is it?" he asked. "And please don't say it's nothing, Bailey.""No, it's definitely something," she said. "There's something I need to know, Peter."Ever since Peter was released on bail, he'd been antic.i.p.ating this moment. He thought that Bailey, being Bailey, would ask him right away. Then again, hehad done a brilliant job of gaining her trust. He should be flattered that it had taken her this long, months and months in fact, to pose the question.He decided to beat her to the punch. "No, I did not try to kill Katherine and the kids."Bailey cupped his face in her hands and gently kissed his lips. "I had to hear you say it. Can you forgive me? I'm so sorry, Peter.""Don't be. It's just the lawyer in you. I respect that.""Do youforgive me?" she asked."More important, do you trust me?""I do," she said. "I truly do."He returned her kisses, pulling her tight against him."Now, going against every primal and s.e.xual urge in my body, I've got to get some sleep," he said. "Tomorrow's going to be an eventful day.Trust me. "

Chapter 113

I WATCH as Nolan Heath slowly walks toward the witness stand as if he were Gary Cooper inHigh Noon.This is it, isn't it?He knows it, I know it, the whole courtroom knows it -including the jury.It's him against Peter. One very determined prosecutor versus one very,very smart defendant. Whoever wins this ultimate showdown probably wins the trial."Mr. Carlyle, let's clear up one thing right at the start. Dr. Dunne herself told you that she had once done some work for the CIA, did she not?"Peter nods easily. "Yes, she did."Heath draws an imaginary gun, pointing his finger around the courtroom. He looks silly and gets a few chuckles from the gallery. Precisely his point."Did Dr. Dunne tell you that she was some sort of covert agent, traveling the world to a.s.sa.s.sinate dictators and help overthrow governments? A female version of James Bond?""No.""That's right," says Heath. "In fact, what she told you was that she had helped organize a research study to measure the effects of different neurotoxins on the human heart, correct?""Yes.""Not exactly cloak-and-dagger stuff, huh?"Peter doesn't respond."But speaking of covert activity, Mr. Carlyle, I'm curious about your behavior in the Bahamas. Agent Pierce testified that she saw you walk out of a remote bar in Na.s.sau with a man who minutes later tried to kill her. Do you deny that she saw you there?""I don't know if Agent Pierce saw me, but I was there.""What were you doing at the bar?"Peter shrugs. "Having a drink.""Are you aware that there were seventeen bars in Na.s.sau closer to your hotel?""I was trying to avoid the media. They had been relentless, in case you've forgotten.They still are. In case you haven't noticed them on your way in and out of the courthouse.""Who was the man you were having a drink with?""I don't know. I wasn't having a drink with anyone.""Wait, I'm confused," says Heath, turning to the jury. "You walked out together, correct?""If you mean did we leave the bar at the same time, yes," says Peter. "I'd never seen the man before, but he said he recognized me from the news. We talked briefly as I left. I didn't even get a name. I drove off one way, he drove off another.""Yes, and when Agent Pierce followed this supposedly harmless stranger, he opened fire on her. Why do you think that is?""I don't know. As I said, I didn't know the man.""Yes, you did say that, didn't you? You don't know." Heath folds his arms, shakes his head incredulously. "I must say, Mr. Carlyle, although you're a very smart guy, there sure are a lot of things you don't know in this trial.""I know I'm innocent," says Peter in a flash."Yes," says Heath without skipping a beat. "Until proven guilty."

Chapter 114

WITH THAT, Heath really kicks it into high gear. His questions come rapid-fire, his tone more aggressive, if not bordering on angry. He's putting thecross incross-examination, and I am on the edge of my seat. Literally."Mr. Carlyle, how does a military-grade explosive with the power to blow a large boat to smithereens end up onThe Family Dunne ?""I have no idea," says Peter."How about this: why did the boat's emergency radio beacon emit an erroneous signal that put the Coast Guard hundreds of miles off-course in its search?""I a.s.sume the beacon malfunctioned.""Oh, really? When exactly did you a.s.sume that? Because when you began your one-man search, you somehow started with the islands closest to where the boatreally went down. How is that?"I watch as Peter smiles as if he's got it all under control. It's scary to think I used to love that smile very much. It used to make me feel safe and warm.Ha!"What you claim to be suspicious is really just common sense," Peter answers. "Why would I search the area where the Coast Guard was already searching?""So let me get this straight. Looking for your family where theyweren't supposed to be-that was merely a hunch on your part?""More like hoping against hope, I guess. But I also made an a.s.sumption that if they were in an obvious place, they would already have been found.""Well, you sure got lucky, didn't you?" says Heath sarcastically. He glances about the courtroom. "Then again, maybe notthat lucky."The bark to my left is Gordon Knowles objecting. "Your Honor, he's badgering the witness."Judge Barnett nods agreement. "Get to your next question, Mr. Heath.""My apologies, Your Honor. It's just that there's something else I can't figure out, Mr. Carlyle. Both Dr. Dunne and her son Mark have testified that they first spotted you in your plane flying directly over them while it was still daylight. They were waving at you like crazy-they thought they were finally saved, for G.o.d's sake. Why didn't you stop?""That's just it," answers Peter with a relaxed shrug. "I saw them trying to signal me all right, but in light of what Agent Pierce told me about the drug traffickers, I was afraid that my family was actually trying to warn me. That's why I waited until the dark of night to return-and yes, with a gun. For all I knew, my family was being held hostage."Nolan throws up his hands, incredulous. "Heldhostage? Do you really expect this courtroom to believe that?"Peter doesn't flinch, not even a blink. "Yes, I do. Just as I would expect that a federal agent like Ellen Pierce would be telling me the truth."I shake my head. This is ridiculous! How can he sit there so calmly and lie through his teeth? What's even more ridiculous is that the jury seems to be taking him seriously.Oh, Christ, did that old lady on the end of the first row just nod in agreement?No! No! No! Nolan's right, how could anyone really believe that we were being held hostage? The jury has to be seeing through all this, right? Whatever Agent Pierce told Peter, there's just too much other evidence-too many coincidences-stacking up against him. They have to realize it.h.e.l.l, even Peter has to know he's truly up against the ropes.But you wouldn't think so, looking at him. It's almost as if he knows something that no one else does.What's he up to? I'm starting to get a really bad feeling.Then, in a heartbeat, the d.a.m.nedest thing happens.

Chapter 115

HEATH FIRES OFF his next question, aimed squarely at motive. "Mr. Carlyle, do you know how much you stood to inherit if Dr. Dunne and her three children died while on their sailing trip?"Peter fires back immediately. "I imagine it's the same amount as if their plane had crashed when they all flew out to Aspen last winter and spent two weeks at the St. Regis.""What happened, did the bomb not go off on that flight?" asks Heath. "Or at the hotel?"Gordon Knowles launches up from his chair to object, only he's beaten to the punch.By Peter."Now you listen, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Peter shouts, his cool veneer cracking like a cheap vase. "You don't know what it was like for me. I was stupid, cheating on my wife, whom I truly did love. Then I find out she's missing, along with the kids. Do you realize how guilty I felt? I was desperate to find them, do you hear me?"Peter's face flushes red as he leans forward in the witness chair. The veins in his neck and forehead pop in unison as he yells even louder. "I'm not a monster! I've made mistakes, but I'm not a monster! I'm certainly no killer. How could you -"Suddenly he stops. Peter clutches his arm.Then his chest.He staggers to his feet and stumbles off the witness stand. Directly in front of the jury box his body folds, collapsing to the floor with a horrific thud.The elderly juror on the end of the first row lets go with a scream. The entire courtroom stands to see what just happened.Peter's lying flat on his back, his face contorted in extreme pain. His eyes are open, full of fear."Help . . . me . . . ," he sputters.The first to reach him is the court clerk, followed by Gordon Knowles."He's having a heart attack!" Knowles shouts.Everyone spills forward. Someone shouts, "Give him some air! He needs air!"Knowles barks, "What he needs is a doctor!"That's when I realize I haven't moved from the first row behind the prosecution table. I'm a statue, frozen. It's as if I've forgotten that I'm a cardiac surgeon.But others around me haven't.I look over at the jury in time to see heads turning from Peter on the ground to me still in my seat.Peter looks helpless. Harmless.I look cold. Heartless.LikeI'm the monster in this courtroom.Even Nolan Heath finally calls out, "Katherine? Can you help?"I can't. I know the Hippocratic oath by heart and still I don't move. All I can do is watch. Stare. I feel paralyzed from the neck down.Until, through the sea of legs gathered around Peter, a s.p.a.ce opens for a second, just long enough for our eyes to meet. It happens so fast I'm sure no one sees it-except the one person who's supposed to.Me.Peter winks.

Chapter 116

ELLEN PIERCE wasn't about to miss Peter Carlyle's big day in court, hopefully his total humiliation. She expected a spectacle but certainly not like this. One minute he's lying his a.s.s off on the witness stand, the next he's lying on the floor.A heart attack?It certainly seemed that way, especially when the EMS guys showed up and took some quick vital signs. Within minutes they had Carlyle strapped to a gurney and were wheeling him out of the courthouse."What hospital will they take him to?" she asked a guard out in the hallway. She could barely hear her own voice above the commotion. Photographers were tripping over themselves to snap pictures.Front page, anyone?"They'll probably take him to St. Mary's Hospital," answered the guard. "It's the closest."He was right.In less than eight minutes Ellen was stepping out of a taxi and into the hospital's crowded emergency room.No one asked if she needed help. That was the beauty of New York City. Too many people to notice any one person.Ellen looked around the bustling emergency room, a full three-sixty degrees. An ice pack here, a bandage there. The only grisly sight was a construction worker at the counter with blood dripping from his fingertips. His hand was wrapped, but from her angle Ellen could see the problem. Ouch! He'd been caught on the wrong side of a nail gun.For good measure she spun around again, another three-sixty degrees. No sign of Peter Carlyle, though. Did they take him to a different hospital?No.The rush of air from the sliding doors opening behind her hit her in the back. She turned to see the EMS guys from the courtroom wheeling in Carlyle. Leave it to a New York City cabdriver to beat an ambulance, sirens and all.Ellen quickly stepped to the side as two nurses met the EMS guys. The gurney never slowed down. In fact, as the nurses took over they began to jog.No time to waste! Got to save this sc.u.mbag's life.Ellen trailed them down a corridor, spying as Peter was stripped of his clothes and Rolex while being prepped for an EKG. Then they all disappeared into a room and drew the curtains on the observation window.What now?The thought of following Carlyle again immediately took Ellen back to Na.s.sau and Billy Rosa's bar. She would never forget how close to death she'd come when that mystery b.a.s.t.a.r.d opened fire on her on that dirt road. Even now she swore she could still taste the dust in her mouth.It didn't matter what the verdict in the trial was, guilty or not guilty. She was going to find out how and why Carlyle was meeting up with that man. That was the key to everything; she was almost sure of it. Another one of her gut instincts.But first things first. Carlyle. His health.Ellen thought about waiting a bit before flashing her badge and pumping the closest doctor for some info. Was Carlyle truly having a heart attack? Was it something else? Or maybe it was nothing at all? A false alarm?At this point she was putting nothing past the guy. But as eager as she was to find out, she knew that was a risky gambit. She'd just come off suspension, after all. No way she should approach a doctor in the ER.Besides, suddenly she had a much better idea.

Chapter 117

I KEEP TELLING MYSELF: no regrets.With Peter being held overnight for observation at St. Mary's Hospital, Nolan Heath spells out the options in his office this afternoon. It's his call, of course, and I can tell he's inclined to proceed with the trial. But he wants my input-my vote on this is important to him. As Nolan told me when we first met, "This may be my job, but it's your life. I never forget that."So he makes it very clear that he could demand and probably get a mistrial."But we have to be careful what we ask for, Katherine. The odds for conviction go down considerably in a retrial," he says."And if you don't ask for a mistrial?""Then I'm sure the defense will rest. After closing statements, it will be in the hands of the jury. At this point it's irrelevant whether your ex-husband faked a heart attack or not-the jury won't be told either way. All they'll know is what they saw. Could it influence them? Sure. Could it make them ignore all the evidence? I would sincerely hope not."Then he tosses in the monkey wrench, thex factor, and explains why he wants to make sure I fully understand all the ramifications ofmy decision.Money."The risk of proceeding, of course, goes beyond Carlyle's being acquitted. He'll sue you for defamation of character, claiming irreparable harm to his law career. He'll probably win, too. The only question would be how much money he could extract from you."Heath looks at me from behind his tidy desk. He works as he dresses: neatly. I can tell he's expecting me to ask questions, really mull things over.Screw that, though.Screw Peter."I'm alive. Try as he certainly did, that's the one thing Peter couldn'textract from me," I say. "As far as another trial goes, there's not enough money in the world to make me go through this again. In other words, whatever I might have to pay Peter, it would be a bargain. I don't care about the money.""Are you sure, Katherine?" asks Heath. "Sometimes in the heat of things people make snap decisions they later regret."I don't hesitate. Not for a moment. "Yes, I'm sure.No regrets. "

Chapter 118

THE JURY DELIBERATED for three long days, and the wait was nearly impossible for our family. On Friday afternoon at a quarter to five, the foreman informed Judge Barnett with a folded note that they had reached a unanimous verdict. Apparently justice had weekend plans."What do you think, Mom?" asks Ernie on our way to the courthouse. I'd told him that the only way he could attend the verdict was if it somehow occurred after school.Sure enough . . ."I think I have no idea, that's what I think," I tell him in the back of our speeding cab.I'm serious-I really don't know what to expect. I've got no gut feeling about the outcome and whether it will have any connection to justice as I see it.Neither does Nolan Heath. "It makes me laugh when those pundits on TV predict a verdict based on how long the jury was out," he tells me on the phone. "Truth is, they don't know squat, and neither do I."Ernie and I take our seats up front in the courtroom. I'm amazed at the buzz in the air. It's electric.Only when Judge Barnett appears do things settle down. a.s.suming his perch on the bench, he grabs his favorite gavel and bangs the gallery into silence.With the slightest of nods he instructs the court clerk to let in the jury.As they shuffle to their a.s.signed seats, I do something I haven't done the entire trial. I steal a glance over at Peter. He was conveniently absent during the closing arguments, the implication being that he was recuperating from his apparent heart attack.Surprise, surprise-he's well enough to be on handafter the jury's made its decision.There's a part of all this that still feels like an out-of-body experience to me. I mean, how did it happen? How did I get here?How could I have been so stupid as to fall in love with handsome and charming and very evil Peter Carlyle? He's a murderer, for G.o.d's sake.One of these days I'm sure I'll stop beating myself up over it. Nothing that a few dozen sessions in Mona's office can't fix, right?"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asks Judge Barnett. Talk about the ultimate rhetorical question.The jury foreman stands up slowly. Should that tell me anything? "Yes, we have, Your Honor."The court clerk delivers the verdict to Judge Barnett. The man must be one h.e.l.l of a poker player, because his face gives absolutely nothing away as he reads it to himself.Then he nods at the foreman-a CPA, I'm told. He looks nervous. Not as nervous as I am, though. Not as nervous as Peter, I hope.I take Ernie's hand and squeeze it hard.Here we go. Get him-take down Peter!"In the case of the State of New York versus Peter James Carlyle . . ."

Chapter 119

JUDGE BARNETT'S COURTROOM explodes with one giant gasp and Nolan Heath reaches out for me. Meanwhile, I'm hugging Ernie-for all the wrong reasons.Gordon Knowles is pumping fists with the rest of his defense team, then he turns to Peter and plasters him with a hug. Just watching the two of them makes me sick. I'm also numb."I'm sorry, Mom," says Ernie. "It's not right. He tried to kill us."I barely hear him. All I want to do is keep holding him tightly.So this is it? This is how it ends? Peter gets away with it. He killed Jake, and he tried to kill the rest of us.That's all I can think.Meanwhile, Ernie lets go of me.Sidestepping out into the aisle, he walks straight up to Peter. He taps him on the back. What is he doing? As Peter turns around, little Ernie winds up his right leg and kicks him hard in the groin. Good!And just like that, I'm no longer numb. I feel everything. But most of all . . .I feel fine. Better, anyway. I almost start to laugh.Maybe it's watching Peter buckle over, the look of intense pain rippling across his face. Or maybe it's Ernie's look of satisfaction as he turns back to me.All I know is that compared to what we've been through, today is a drop in the ocean.Thisisn't it.Thisisn't how it ends.Haven't I learned anything?The boat trip was about a family that needed to come together again.My family. And that's just what happened, in ways we never could have imagined.Nothing will ever change that. The Dunnes are going to be okay. We're a family again, and we've never been stronger, tougher, more together.

Chapter 120

IT TOOK TWO HOURS before the ache from Ernie's kick to the crotch finally subsided. A small price, Peter figured. Especially with the big payday to come.It came.Much faster than he thought, too.In less than a month, Peter went from being an almost-free man with money to being an almost-free man with oodles of money. Once he filed his civil suit, he fully expected an out-of-court settlement. What he didn't expect was that Katherine would roll over so easily-and for so much. Big whoop that he didn't get her entire fortune. Sixteen million still bought a lot of champagne.It was time to celebrate."C'mon, let's go out and hit the town," said Peter, sitting up in Bailey's bed. The days and nights at the Alex Hotel were over. "I'll take you to any restaurant you want. I can't wait to be out on the town with you."Bailey snapped the elastic on his boxers, his only st.i.tch of clothing. "I already ordered Chinese, silly. I want my moo shu pork."Peter shot her a dubious look. "You're still hung up on our being seen together, aren't you? I keep telling you, it's not a problem anymore. I'm innocent. I'm free as a bird. Justice was done in that courtroom, thank G.o.d.""I know, I know. Just give me a little more time with that, okay? I'm not quite ready yet to see my picture splashed on Page Six of thePost. ""I am," said Peter. "Then everyone will know how incredibly beautiful you are-and how lucky I am." He leaned over, stroking her cheek. "Hey, why don't we get out of the city, take a vacation somewhere? We could leave tomorrow. Dare I suggest the Caribbean?""You're forgetting something," said Bailey. "My cla.s.ses.""Skip 'em.""Easy for you to say, Mr. Sixteen-Million-Dollar Man.""What good is all that money if I have no one to spend it on? Think about it.""Oooh, I like the sound of that. Maybe a trip is a good idea."Bailey pressed her naked body tight against Peter. She was about to kiss him when the intercom buzzed. "Moo shu pork!" she declared with a giddy smile, practically leaping up from the sheets.Bailey wrapped herself in a plush white robe that had been draped over the leather chair by the window. As Peter looked on, he couldn't help reminiscing about the time he had sat in that chair back when Katherine had just left for her trip. How could he ever forget that little dance Bailey had performed for him? And what happened next."Do you want to eat in bed?" asked Bailey."Sure," said Peter. "And then some."She walked out of the bedroom grinning and disappeared around the corner into the living room.When she returned moments later, however, there was no moo shu pork in her hands.Instead there was a gun at Bailey's head.

Chapter 121

"GEE, I'M SORRY to barge in like this," said Devoux, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."He nudged the lovely Bailey toward the edge of the bed, the long barrel of his gun's silencer pressed tightly against her right temple. The harder he pressed, the more she cowered in fear and submitted to whatever he wanted."For Christ's sake,what are you doing? " demanded Peter."You and I have some unfinished business, Counselor," said Devoux.The words trembled out of Bailey's mouth. "Peter, what's going on? Who is this?"Devoux chuckled. "You mean you haven't told her?"Peter wanted to play dumb.Deny! Deny! Deny! But there was no chance of that now. Devoux wasn't f.u.c.king around."Honey, I'll explain everything," said Peter, trying to calm Bailey."You bet you will," said Devoux. "You can begin by telling me where my money is."Peter's head snapped back in disbelief. "Yourmoney?""The back end, Counselor. You should've wired it by now, don't you think? Where is it?""What, are you crazy? You're lucky you're getting to keep the down payment. In case you haven't been reading the papers, things didn't go exactly as planned."With a quick shove, Devoux sent Bailey flying onto the bed. His gun had a new target now-the s.p.a.ce right between Peter's eyes. "Yes, and in case you're blind, this really isn't a negotiation," he said. "I'm here for my money."Peter raised his palms in the air. "Okay,okay. You can have your money." He nodded at Bailey's laptop, a black Mac-Book on the desk in the corner. "I can wire it right now.""Good answer," said Devoux with a satisfied grin. "There's just one little twist. You're going to be wiring a little bit more than what we agreed to."Peter blinked hard. He couldn't stand feeling this helpless. Or taken. "How much?" he asked."Well, let's see-what was that number I read in the papers? Was it sixteen million?""Now I know you're crazy," said Peter. "I'd sooner die than give you all the money."Devoux's grin widened. "I actually believe you, Counselor. That was a risk all along, wasn't it?" He c.o.c.ked his gun. "That's why it's always good to have a Plan B."Slowly he swung his arm over to Bailey."Oh, please G.o.d, no," she begged, retreating to the headboard and hugging it."I'm with you, pretty lady," said Devoux. He turned to Peter. "So how about it, Counselor? A change of heart, perhaps? Or does the pretty girlfriend die?"Peter looked over at Bailey, the sheer terror in her eyes.Why had he had to meet her? Why did he have to feel something for her?She was trembling, a mess. All because of him.f.u.c.k!The jig was up. Absolutely. He had no choice, none whatsoever.Or did he?Getting up from the bed, he walked to Bailey's computer. "Easy come, easy go," he said.He logged onto his bank in the Caymans, entering the code and pa.s.sword for his numbered account. With a few more keystrokes he prepared a transfer of $16 million. Every zero he typed was like a punch to the gut.He turned around to Devoux. "Okay, where's it going?"Devoux grabbed Bailey from the bed and practically dragged her to the middle of the room. "Stand right here with her," he told Peter. "You two can fool around if you want to."With his gun trained on both of them, Devoux chuckled as he went to the desk and started typing. One eye on the screen, the other on Peter and Bailey.As discreetly as possible, Peter glanced at his platinum Rolex. In his head he was practically counting down the seconds.Five. Four. Three. Two . . .Bailey's computer suddenly blared with a loud ringing that startled the h.e.l.l out of Devoux. Peter had set the alarm on the built-in clock.Now!Peter lunged for the gun and knocked it to the floor. Throwing all his weight, he tackled Devoux into the wall. He landed one punch, then another.Down went Devoux.But not out.The two of them had similar builds but not the same training. With a sweep of Peter's legs, Devoux got the upper hand again. Pummeling away at Peter's face, he made the beating outside the Plaza look like two kids tussling in a sandbox. Forget the gun-he was going to kill Peter the old-fashioned way.Then, out of nowhere, Bailey's voice filled the room, bringing everything to a stop."Freeze!" she yelled.

Chapter 122

PETER SIGHED SO DEEPLY that he felt light-headed. Or was that just the lingering sting of Devoux's punches?Who cares?All that mattered was that Bailey had the gun now.Think fast, he told himself. It wasn't as if they could call the police. He needed a plan in a hurry.But Devoux already had one. "What are you going to do, sweetheart, shoot me?" he asked, taking a step toward Bailey."Yes, that's exactly what she'll do," said Peter."No she won't." Devoux took another step. He was only about six feet away from her, and that was too close."Bailey, if he comes any closer, you shoot him.Just pull that trigger. ""She won't do it," said Devoux. "She's not a killer, like you. Are you, Bailey?""Don't take another step, do you hear me!" barked Peter.But that's exactly what Devoux did."Do it!" yelled Peter. "SHOOT THE b.a.s.t.a.r.d NOW!"Bailey squeezed the trigger hard, her hand as steady as she could manage.Pffft!came the sound of the bullet through the silencer. It was so quiet Peter almost didn't hear it.But he felt it.What the . . . ?Peter looked down at the small hole in his stomach, the bright blood oozing down over his striped blue boxers. He staggered backward, his legs feeling like rubber. He was trying to keep himself standing.He was trying to figure out what had just happened.Had it really happened?"Bailey?" he said, gasping for air.She shook her head, and then she started to . . .smile? "You know, for a good-looking guy, Peter, you sure were a lousy lay."Devoux slipped his hand inside her robe and reached around her. "Don't give me that s.h.i.t," he said, grabbing her a.s.s and pulling her close. "I know you enjoyed it with him. Don't beat him up when he's down like that."Peter watched incredulously as the two of them kissed. It was no peck on the cheek, either. More like tongue-on-tongue tonsil hockey.Oh G.o.d, no. Devoux and Bailey?Then Peter collapsed to the floor, clutching his stomach, which was starting to ache. The blood was spurting through his fingers. He could barely breathe, and his vision was collapsing at the edges.Devoux pulled back from Bailey and turned to look at Peter with a wink."The things we do for money, huh, Counselor?" said Devoux, all of the irony intended."But I-I kept you out of jail. We had a deal.""Stupid lawyer. You didn't do it for me. It was just another payday for you, just like this is for me. You're a loose end, Peter. Besides, you deserve to die-you were going to kill all those kids. And your loving wife."With that, he returned to the computer and completed the transfer of the $16 million. "Ya know, I've never felt better about a job, not once. This is the perfect ending."All Peter could do was watch and think about dying. His life was draining out of him; he was turning weaker by the second. Soon his body would go into shock.His mind was already there, wasn't it?How could this be happening?Devoux f.u.c.king him over-that he could almost understand. But a girl like Bailey? A law student? Shewas a law student, right?"Who . . . who are you?" asked Peter, every word a struggle now.Devoux folded shut the computer. He stood, walked over to Bailey, and took the gun from her hand."She's my Plan B," he said. "Every good magician has an a.s.sistant, no?"There was no wink this time, not even a half-smile. Instead he took two steps toward Peter, raising the gun."Go to h.e.l.l!" snarled Peter."You first," said Devoux.He squeezed off two more shots.Pffft! Pffft! The first exploded through the center of Peter's forehead, the second went straight through his cold heart.Pure precision.Kneeling down, Devoux grabbed Peter's wrist and felt for a pulse. Not because he thought the lawyer might somehow manage to survive three bullet wounds, but because he wanted to feel him die. Or already dead."Hey, nice watch," said Devoux, eyeing Peter's Rolex. He promptly slipped it off the lawyer's wrist and put it in his pocket.Finders keepers, right?"C'mon, baby, we've got a plane to catch," said Bailey.Devoux stood and blew her a kiss. "I'm afraid you're only half right, sweetheart."Pffft! Pffft!And then there were no loose ends at all.

Chapter 123

LESS THAN THIRTY-SIX HOURS LATER, Devoux was strolling along the Champs-Elysees, and everything was sweetness and light, couldn't have been better. The late afternoon sun was beginning to dip from the sky, its light engulfing the Arc de Triomphe with a majestic orange glow. G.o.d, he loved Paris.He breathed it all in, closing his eyes finally. The crisp October air was laced with the smell of fresh bread and coffee from the outdoor cafes. It was positively intoxicating and as familiar as an old friend."America is my country but Paris is my hometown," said Gertrude Stein, famously.He knew exactly what the old broad meant.With the money he'd made off Peter Carlyle, he could afford an extended European vacation-to put it mildly-and that's precisely what he had in mind. Besides, too much killing wasn't good for the soul.Suddenly the voice of a pa.s.serby made him stop."Est-ce que vous avez l'heure, s'il vous plait?" she asked.Yes, as a matter of fact, he knew exactly what time it was.Always.As Devoux pulled back the sleeve on his Prada waxed cotton duster, he barely glanced at the woman who had stopped him. Instead his eyes were trained on his newly acquired platinum Rolex.I'll give you this, Carlyle, you at least had taste. You knew how to spend a buck.Devoux finally looked up, about to tell this stranger in his best French that the time was twenty minutes after five.That's when his mouth froze.This was no stranger."Don't move an inch!" said Agent Ellen Pierce, taking two steps back, with her Glock .-40-caliber drawn. "I swear to G.o.d I'll shoot you right here and now!"Of all things, Devoux smiled. "I should've killed you when I had the chance," he said."Yeah, life's just full of regrets, huh?" came back Ellen. "And little surprises. Now put your hands behind your head and drop down to your knees. Do it now."By now pa.s.sersby were gasping in horror at the sight of Ellen's gun. They were drawing back in hordes, hiding behind trees and cars.Meanwhile, Devoux wasn't budging."I said,put your hands behind your head and drop to your knees! " ordered Ellen.Instead Devoux took a step toward her.Ellen jabbed her Glock straight at his chest. "LAST WARNING!" she yelled. "TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND YOU'RE DEAD!"It wasn't just one step that Devoux took. Behind a death-wish laugh, he suddenly lunged for Ellen, his arms extended for her gun.BLAM!Ellen pumped a shot into his chest. The crowd of onlookers screamed with fear. Several of them began to run away.Devoux staggered backward, his legs buckling. But they didn't quite fold.He should have been flat on his back, dead as disco. Instead the son of a b.i.t.c.h was still standing!Worse, he was coming for her again! He had a switchblade knife from somewhere.BLAM! BLAM!This time the Mystery Man went down, and he stayed there for good.Ellen knelt on the pavement and pulled back the left sleeve on his coat. It was amazing what flashing a badge at a hospital nurse could get you.Namely, Peter Carlyle's watch for a few hours, just enough time to outfit it with a transmitter."If at first you don't succeed," Ellen said to herself, "try, try again."She could hear police sirens in the background. The next few hours would be filled with super-irritating questions from and reports by the French gendarmerie. Then she would probably get suspended by Ian again. Whatever the cost, Ellen knew it was worth it.When all was said and done, she had indeed "caught a bad guy." A very bad guy, for sure. After that day he tried to kill her in the Bahamas, she'd made a promise to herself. No matter what, she'd get the Mystery Man."Don't ever try and kill me, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she said to the dead man before her.

Epilogue

A Promise is a Promise

Chapter 124

OF COURSE, everyone's first thought was that I pulled the trigger on Peter and his supposed girlfriend. I don't know whether I should be insulted or flattered.It didn't take long for the NYPD to rule me out as a suspect, though. Notwithstanding the fact that I was giving a lecture on heart disease at the 92nd Street Y while the murders took place, the detectives on the scene could tell this was no crime of pa.s.sion. It was too clean, too neat; the shots were too precise. Whoever did this had killed before, they said. Probably numerous times.It took two days for the bodies of Peter and the girl to be discovered. It probably would've taken longer if a neighbor had not complained to the super about some alarm clock in the apartment. It had been buzzing nonstop.When I heard the news, I pretty much felt the same way I did when I first heard the verdict in the courtroom. Numb. No real surprise. I quickly stopped feeling anything for Peter Carlyle. He became dead to me. Now he's dead to everybody.I guess the only thing I'm still thinking about is the girl. The police told me they found a Nevada driver's license in a bedroom drawer. Her name was Lucy Holt and she'd been arrested twice for prost.i.tution in Las Vegas-not the street corner variety, though. Apparently she was a very high-priced call girl, the kind that fetched top dollar. So what was she doing in New York, living in such a modest apartment? And what was she to Peter?No one knows, including the apartment's owner, who was illegally subletting it. All he knew was that he was getting paid in cash. Undoubtedly by Peter.I even called Agent Pierce over at her DEA office, hoping maybe she had some thoughts. She wasn't there, though. Her a.s.sistant mentioned that she was taking a couple of vacation days, something about a trip to Paris. Good for her. After the verdict she had looked pretty ballistic.Anyway, the police investigation continues, but as far as I'm concerned this whole ordeal is over.And that means one thing, and one thing only: a promise I made to a few kids, who happen to be mine.

Chapter 125

"I'LL HAVE THE STEAK FOR ONE, medium rare," says Mark to the waiter at Flames Steakhouse near our country house in Chappaqua, one of our favorite places to eat."I'll have the same," says Ernie."What about the souffles?" asks Carrie after ordering a filet mignon. "I distinctly recall your promising souffles, Mom.""Of course," I say. A promise is a promise.I order the chicken parm, my personal favorite here. Then I look around the table, happy to have my family together. Before last summer, you couldn't pay Mark and Carrie to come down from school for the weekend. But this wastheir idea, and I know it wasn't just for the steaks.The waiter leaves and Mark raises his Diet c.o.ke. "Here's to Uncle Jake," he says.The rest of us raise our gla.s.ses."To Uncle Jake," I repeat with Carrie."To Uncle Jake," says Ernie.As we all clink gla.s.ses, Ernie catches my eye and shoots me a wink. He asked that we keep our secret just that.Our secret. I have no problem with it. Carrie and Mark don't need to know, at least not now. I suspect one day when he's older-maybe even after I die-he'll tell them."So I've got only one question," I say as we settle back into our comfortable chairs.The kids all look at me."What are we going to do next summer?" I ask. "Any ideas for a good family vacation? Anybody up for a sail?"