The Marlowe Prep Murder

Chapter 22

"I think I found it," Rick announces, rubbing his eyes above a tired smile. "Who would have thought it would be such a pain in the ass to cross-reference genetic databases with mining and metallurgy information? And Russia isn't exactly forthcoming with the results of their research."

"That paper on esoteric alloys you dug up was pretty well buried," Kate acknowledges.

Rick holds out his hand to her. "It would have stayed buried if you hadn't been able to help me with the translation. But it was quite a few years old. My guess is the government put a lid on any future revelations."

Kate interlaces her fingers with his and pecks his lips. You're exhausted. We should go to bed and go over all of this in the morning."

"I'm not about to fight you on that, and…" Rick's cell lets out a distinctive ring tone, and he thumbs accept. "It's midnight, Izzy. I'm putting you on speaker with Kate. I hope this is good news."

"Better than good news," Izzy proclaims. "I found Vera Cafaro, aka Violet Curtis."

"She was dumb enough to use the same initials?" Rick inquires.

"Exactly what I thought," Izzy responds, "but no murderer is perfect, or you and Kate wouldn't be catching them, right? Being a hit lady for the mob seems to have worked for her — until now. She lives down the block from you, in the 421 Broome Street building. Do you know that place has one of the most expensive penthouses in the city?"

Rick sighs. "I'm aware. Mother is always pointing at it as a sign that I have yet to reach the pinnacle of my success. And it's not like we can knock on Violet's door to say, 'Howdy neighbor.'"

"My area is virtual contact," Izzy declares. "I will leave figuring out the real-world version to you. I emailed my bill — due immediately in case she kills you."

"Izzy, old friend, your confidence in our skills is overwhelming. I will have the bank transfer my remittance to your account, post haste," Rick promises.

Rick tosses his phone on his desk. "Wow, I don't think I'm going to sleep now."

Kate tugs at the top button of his shirt. "That doesn't mean we can't go to bed."

Rick pushes out of his chair to follow her. "No, it doesn't."

As most of the lights in the loft go out, Jack decides to pack it in for the night. It is the beginning of the weekend. Not that the day of the week matters much to him. He's on duty or at least on call, 24/7. But he hopes that it means that Richard and Kate can let their investigations go for a day or two, or at least slow down a little.

The tiny apartment the company keeps for him near the United Nations is only 15 minutes away. Still, if something goes down, that's 15 minutes too long. He'll grab just a few hours' sleep there and be back around sunrise.

"Are you up for this?" Kate asks, slipping Rick's shirt off his shoulders.

He pulls her top over her head. "Definitely getting there. There's nothing like proximity to a killer to give you a second wind."

"Just proximity to a killer?" Kate asks, pulling at the buckle on his belt.

"Being undressed by the most exciting woman on the planet doesn't hurt either. But," he adds, tugging at the button on her waistband, "a gentleman always returns the favor."

Kate nips at his ear. "And what if I'm in the mood for a ruggedly handsome rogue?"

Rick slides her slacks down her legs and presses a kiss to the wisp of silk left behind. "The two are not mutually exclusive."

Kate gasps, pulling harder to dislodge what's left of his garments. "No, they're not, and I'm going to enjoy both of them."

Their lips meet with a heat that vaporizes any lingering crime-solving thoughts. Kate presses against Rick, feeling him grow in response to her. His body arches as she strokes him. "You're awake now."

"The understatement of the decade," he pants, his practiced touch igniting the epicenter of her arousal.

Breath forces itself from her lungs as her desire flares. "Rick!"

His words come as a husky rasp. "Tell me what you want."

Her grasping fingers guide the length of his need to her. "All of you. Now."

He flips her above him, his tongue encircling the tender nubs crowning her breasts. Moaning her desperation, she bucks in mindless abandon, his fingers urging her closer to the edge. With the final release, they tumble over together, clinging as the aftershocks subside.

Kate jams her pillow over her head in defense against the roar coming from the kitchen. "It's Saturday. We're supposed to be able to sleep. What the f**k is that?"

Groaning, Rick reaches for his robe. "Seems to me that after last night, "f**k is much too positive a description for that cacophony. It sounds like Mother's juicer. I'll go see what I can do to still the din."

"Good morning, darling," Martha effuses. "I have a special matinee performance today. Isn't that splendid? I need a natural energy boost to sharpen my awareness of my character. You look like you had a busy night, hoo, hoo! Want a burst of perfect nutrition? You could use something to refuel your system."

"I was having something to refuel my system, Mother. It's called sleep. Kate was enjoying it too. Can you pick a quieter way to sharpen your awareness?"

"Oh, yes, of course. You and Kate are still newlyweds, and that can be draining — in the best possible way. I'll begin my morning meditations and see you later when you're recovered."

Blood flows to Rick's face as Martha grabs her juice glass and sweeps her way up the stairs. How does his mother still manage to embarrass him? He returns to the bedroom to find it empty and Kate on the computer in his office. "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought I'd look up Violet Curtis. Do you believe it? She has a website. She sells real estate, or at least she claims she does."

Rick regards the well-composed photos of upscale apartments. "It makes perfect sense. Realtors can get in almost anywhere. If she's still in the hitwoman business, it's the perfect cover. And if she's moved on to more sedate enterprises, what better way to launder ill-gotten gains? However, she's also given us a perfect cover."

"OK, I'll bite."

"You already did, and I treasure every mark."

Kate pinches his firmest roundest flesh. "I meant, how has Violet given us the perfect cover?"

"As my mother quite recently pointed out to me, you and I are still newlyweds. It would be the only natural for us to look for a new love nest, a place we pick out together. I'm sure Violet can show us all sorts of lovely Manhattan abodes. And employing her services will give us a perfect excuse to engage her in conversation and vet her services."

"What if she knows who we are?" Kate questions.

"All the better. We are a new couple of considerable means, and she has no reason to believe we know who she is. She's been hiding in plain sight for decades." Rick's stomach rumbles. "And she can hide a little longer. I am going to make a Saturday morning breakfast feast, and find out what Alexis has planned for the day. Then fully stoked with deliciousness, you and I can decide how we will go at Tim Scroggins' killer."