A/N. Thanks tlh45 and smuffly!

Chapter 19

Frank Mitford was not a happy man. He was dressed in hotel livery and pushing a cart down the long corridor towards suite 804. The collar of his shirt was strangling him. One of the main reasons he wore such outlandish shirts was that his head was attached directly to his shoulders by an enormous mass of muscle and connective tissue. Regular shirts didn't fit him and the few times in his life he had been forced to wear a tie he'd felt as though he was being strangled. This was one of those moments. He resisted the urge to pull at the collar and proceeded down the corridor at a steady pace. Everything was silent. A door at the far end opened suddenly. He didn't break pace but smiled at the mother and daughter politely. They hurried past him barely giving him a second look. They looked worried which, Frank thought, was not surprising since they had just received a call asking them to immediately vacate their room. They headed straight for the elevator where Jo was waiting for them.

Frank approached the door as Stella made an appearance from the emergency exit stairs at the far end. Her gun was firmly gripped in both hands, the barrel pointing at the floor. She nodded to him indicating that SWAT was covering the emergency exits, the elevators are been stopped and that Jo was in position behind him at the far end. He stopped at suite 804 and rapped on the door. "Room Service," he announced.

He waited.

There was no sound from inside. He rapped again. "Room Service." He glanced at Stella and then inserted the card he had been given in the slot. The light turned from red to green. He put one hand on the door and the other on his weapon that he had tucked in the back of his trousers under his waistcoat. He pushed the door open. "Room Service," he called once more.

Nothing.

Giving up all pretence he pulled his gun and advanced into the room. It looked like a whirlwind had passed through. Shopping bags of all shapes and sizes littered the floor. Their contents, however, were nowhere to be found. The closet doors stood open. Empty. Quickly he checked the bathroom. Frank swore under his breath and moved over to the window. He stepped through the doors onto the balcony pushing aside the curtains that were blowing gently in the breeze.

"Frank?"

He turned as he heard Stella's voice behind him. "Stella, she's gone down." He pulled at the bed sheet tied to the balcony railing. "Bitch!"

"Jo, she's gone down!" Stella yelled as she turned and headed for the emergency staircase ignoring Jo's look of surprise. Frank pulled out his radio. He stomped towards the door pulling off the infernal bow tie.

"SWAT teams, target is now on seventh floor. Repeat. Target is on seventh floor. Remain in position."

Stella pounded down the stairs. If she remembered the layout correctly, the seventh floor held two of the hotel's function rooms. There was a large lobby separating the two and both rooms had access to an outdoor terrace. The weather was perfect so guests would be circulating between the rooms and the terrace. She pulled open the emergency exit door and stepped into the room. Immediately she holstered her weapon as she found herself in the centre of the Bar Mitzvah. The room was heaving. People sat at tables chatting. Some stood listening in. Others were gathered in the centre of the room as there seemed to be some kind of presentation going on. The music combined with chatter was deafening. Small children in party outfits darted between the tables like multi-coloured fish in an aquarium. One table in particular was surrounded by a large number of people. They were all crowded eagerly around the family matriarch who was holding court, delivering words of divine wisdom to younger members of the family. Quickly Stella skirted the edge of the room trying to be as discrete as possible all the while looking for Elsa Rossi. She emerged onto the terrace and looked up. She could see a sheet dangling from the balcony. She ran over to it and looked up and then around at the terrace. A table for drinks stood against the railing. Squashed between it and the railing sat a small boy with an unruly mass of brown curly hair and freckles. He was wearing a suit that was slightly too large for him and his bow tie leaned at a peculiar angle. Clasped between his hands was a Game-boy.

"Hi there." The boy looked at her with clear blue eyes. "Did you see anyone come down that sheet?" What a ridiculous question, she thought to herself. However, the boy nodded without showing any surprise as his thumb continued to tap a button on the console. "Did you see where she went?" He pointed towards the doors further along the terrace. Stella smiled and was about to utter a thank you when a loud voice came from behind.

"Adam!" Stella turned around to see a woman in an outrageous hat and impossible high-heels come storming towards them. "There you are. I might have known you'd have your nose glued to that thing. Come along. It is time for the photographs."

The boy sighed and looked sorrowfully at Stella before getting up and slipping the console in his pocket. She gave him a sympathetic smile and headed in the direction he had indicated. Okay that was weird! Her earpiece crackled with Frank's voice. "SWAT confirm she is still in the hotel. Repeat she has not left the hotel." Stella jogged over to the doors and entered the lobby. She spotted Jo at the far end looking as helpless as she felt. The two women met in the centre by a vast polished table with an enormous flower arrangement. If circumstances had been different they would both have stopped to admire the lavish display.

"Anything?" Jo asked. Stella shook her head. "She can't have disappeared. I just came through the Sweet Sixteen – nothing in there but a lot of giggling girls wearing too much make-up." Stella gave her an understanding look as Jo suppressed a shudder, hoping that Ellie wouldn't want anything like that but then she thought with a measure of reassurance, Ellie was the kind of girl who got excited by new soccer cleats.

"Where the hell can she have gone?" Stella looked towards the elevator doors."What's that door?"

Jo swivelled and looked at the door. If she remembered the layout rightly, on the floor above that door was a laundry store room. Both women made their way to the door. Jo grabbed the handle and pushed. It swung open revealing a large preparation area with carts, a long table crowded with dirty glasses and a huge pile of plates. And worse, another set of elevator doors. "Service elevator."

"Shit!" Stella grabbed her phone. "Brent, we think she's taken the service elevator from the seventh. Where does it go? … Okay … Ballroom and then directly to the kitchens." She looked at Jo. "Ballroom." She grabbed her radio. "Frank, get down to the kitchens." Their ear pieces crackled with his response. They both dashed for the stairs.

If Stella had thought that the Bar Mitzvah was busy, it was nothing compared to the wedding party. The dance floor was crowded. A string quartet had abandoned it's instruments on a small platform in favour of a DJ who was encouraging everyone to have a good time at the Copacabana. She wondered why they always played Barry Manilow at weddings. Instinctively Jo had moved off to her right as Stella moved left. They circled the party like lionesses circle a cornered prey. Elsa Rossi was there somewhere. Their eyes scanned very face. Young, old, happy, miserable.

Jo couldn't help wondering why some people looked miserable at weddings. Waiters wandered around with large trays of cake precariously balanced on their shoulders. The bridal couple were standing arm in arm chatting with a group at the far end of the room. Others were sitting at tables watching and drinking. Jo edged closer to the dance-floor. She peered closely at the couples dancing. The group of dancers parted momentarily and then their eyes met.

The DJ cleverly changed into Can't Smile Without You.

Jo's eyes widened. Elsa Rossi stared at her over her partner's shoulder, daring her, challenging her. What should she do? She couldn't draw her gun in a crowded room. Elsa's lips drew into a hard line across her face. It was an imitation of a smile, one that said. "Come and get me." As Jo took a step forward another dancing couple moved in front of them and Elsa merged once more into the crowd. Jo looked around frantically. She thought she caught a glimpse of Elsa's dark head moving across the dance floor. She skirted the edge of the dancers desperately hunting for her. She also cast a few quick glances around her but Stella was nowhere to be seen.

Jo dodged around a table filled with a large group of elderly, bored-looking men in pin-stripe suits. They looked at her, their heads barely moving but their eyes followed her warily. She smiled innocently but was painfully aware of her badge sitting on her belt and her holster on her hip. She was surprised that she hadn't drawn more attention.

As she backed away from the table she bumped into a large woman in an elegant cream suit with a vivid green scarf draped over one shoulder. She apologized. The woman didn't smile but nodded at the men in the pin-striped suits. "Look at them ..." She wept a dismissive hand towards them, her voice lilting with strongly accented English . "... sitting there. They look like a bunch of bloody Mafiosi." Jo arched an eyebrow. The woman did have a point. If it had been another time and place, Jo might have thought about arresting them on looks alone. The woman nudged her and smiled nodding at the bridal couple. "Look at my Maria. Isn't she beautiful?" Jo murmured something appropriate while trying to keep an eye on Elsa Rossi. "Pity, she marry a policeman but what can you do?" She threw her hands in the air. "She say she loves him." Jo stared at her in amazement. So that's why no one had said anything or paid her any attention. "Have you had cake?"

"Huh?" Jo looked at her blankly.

"Oh you must have cake. It is a special recipe. My cousin, he is descended from the family who make cake for the Holy Father." She grabbed Jo's arm and pulled her towards a waiter serving cake to a table at the edge of the dance floor. "Waiter..." The man turned round, his tray full of generous slices of cake.

Suddenly to their right there was a small scuffle and a woman screamed. Jo caught a glimpse of a mass of golden curls in the crowd of dancers. The dancers parted and less than three feet away, Elsa Rossi appeared stumbling away from a man who looked baffled at suddenly being dumped by his partner in the middle of a dance. The crowd parted faster than the Red Sea in front of Moses revealing Stella one hand outstretched in warning, the other menacingly on the gun at her hip. Elsa was scrabbling in her purse. It didn't take Jo a moment's thought to guess for what.

"Elsa Rossi, stop right there!"

Elsa spun round to face Jo, her eyes flashing with a wild hatred that stopped Jo's heart. Without thinking, Jo reached out a hand and whipped a plate from the tray. With two swift strides she slammed it into Elsa Rossi's face sending her staggering back. Elsa tripped on the metal runner where carpet met dance floor and landed in a heap with a strangled scream. Her purse fell from her hand, her gun skittering across the floor to land at Stella's feet. Stella placed her foot firmly on it. She looked down at Elsa in amazement and then back at Jo.

Stella's face was a picture. "Well Jo, I have to admit it. You've got style." They both looked at the woman on the floor who was clawing at her face to remove the chocolate and cream.

"Che diavolo sta succedendo?"

Jo turned to face the mother of the bride whose face was as astonished as the crowd of on-lookers. "Gate-crashers. Don't you just hate them?"

The woman considered for the question for a moment and then shrugged and nodded nonchalantly. "Sí"

.

(A/N: And thus Elsa Rossi gets her just desserts! Get it? Just desserts? Oh come on! 5/10 for effort?)

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