Flu
Chapter 119
For Kaitlyn Reston Schwartz, her office, particularly her computer, has always been her refuge. She has an extra-large keyboard configured to her needs, and very few people bother her. Unfortunately, she saw the chance of building her own company going down the tubes. That damn Melissa Sawyer – the hyper insurance agent the investors hired to protect their money, was going to urge the purchase of keyman, or in this case, key woman insurance. That advice would have forced Kaitlyn to undergo a complete physical, one she couldn't pass. The syndrome that lengthens her bones also weakens her heart. Her dream would have collapsed. With Melissa gone, she managed to get another agent to recommend more general coverage for the company instead of hanging it on her. She can go on with her work. That's all she's ever wanted.
Kaitlyn took a cue for her plan from something one of her less favorite roommates at college talked about incessantly. Cybil was a psychology major who decided to do a term paper on a series of murders from the 1920s. She worked on it the entire semester but still only earned a "B." In disgust, she sold her psychology books and became a Phys. Ed. Major. But Kaitlyn still remembered the details Cybil went on about, especially the descriptions of the victims.
Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but the delicate, almost headless women called to mind a vision of Melissa Sawyer in a similar condition. Noting that Melissa was a clothes horse, cinched it. Kaitlyn figured Melissa would show up for the opening of a new boutique, and she was right. For once, Kaitlyn's large hands worked to her advantage. They did the job before a startled Melissa could utter a sound.
As long as she wasn't trying to rip off any of the garments, which were far from her taste anyway, Kaitlyn could shove her rush-ordered gloves in her pocket and readily slip out the shop's back door. Later, after cutting up the thin blue rubber, she disposed of the pieces in various trash receptacles around lower Manhattan. She felt more proud than guilty. Who says you can't commit the perfect crime? She did, and it was a hell of a lot easier than writing the ideal app.
Kate restlessly looks on as Ryan and Esposito organize their forces. As Rick predicted, Javi looks like someone out of Operation Kill. She wouldn't be surprised to see him caress his gun.
Ryan is entirely caught up in the logistics of getting into K.R.S. without spooking the murderer or endangering the occupants of nearby suites. Finally, after having his team evacuate as many people from the area as possible, he signals his squad to move in. Kate watches with mixed trepidation and pride. She's trained him well but would be more comfortable with the operation if she were leading the charge.
At first, Kaitlin can't believe the horde of men in body armor and face shields pointing guns at her is real. They're like something out of a nightmare or an episode of an endlessly repeated police drama. But as she comes to accept the reality, her heart flutters, and her lungs fight for air. A grey curtain draws itself across her vision. "We need a medic in here!" Esposito shouts.
"The murder was over insurance?" Alexis repeats incredulously as Kate and Rick recount the details over a sizzling pan of fajitas.
"Still one of Stephen Cannell's award-winning motives," Rick asserts, "money."
"Kaitlyn Schwartz confessed the whole scheme from her hospital bed," Kate explains. "In a way, she's lucky that she passed out when she did. Lanie thinks that she might have been headed for something that would have killed her. She'll be OK for a while now. Too bad Melissa Sawyer wasn't that lucky."
Alexis spears a strip of skirt steak. "At least Dad doesn't have to worry that a murderer is going to jump out of the shadows and pounce on Paige or me."
"No," Rick agrees, "now I'm just afraid it will be a teenage boy."
"Dad, I'm too busy with C.S.U. and Holly's wedding to date now – and I have my pepper spray."
Rick reaches for a warm tortilla. "I suppose that's comforting."
The dune grass ripples in the breeze coming off the ocean, but the sun is shining brightly on the grounds of the Castle beach retreat. Several vans are parked in the drive next to the house, and caterers are unloading food and setting up seats on the sweeping lawn. Martha's set dresser, having already spent an hour setting up the arch, rolls out luxurious fabric for the bride's walk down the center aisle.
Neither the bride nor the groom is dressed for the ceremony yet. While Holly supervises the setup for the music, Mark oversees every move the caterers make.
Rick, Kate, Alexis, Martha, Holly, and Mark all arrived the previous day and spent the night. Alexis and some of Holly's other students threw her a small shower the week before. Rick closed Imagination Patch for a few days. Chef Auchincloss reined over a bachelor party for Mark and gave final approval to the caterer's recipes for food at the reception.
The only thing no one can control is the weather. The sky is clear, but the temperature is low for June. The rising wind won't do much for carefully styled hair. Rick reserved a tent on standby, but Holly decided to put up with a few stray locks in exchange for the bright promise of rays streaming down from above.
Kate is long past being able to find a truly comfortable position, but being stretched out on the lounges near the pool is the closest thing to one that she knows. She's already as dressed up as she's going to be. For once, she's grateful that anything essential to do is in someone else's hands. She heads for the enclosure to get some rest until the guests arrive.
The parade of invitees is a mix of never-heard-of-thems and well-known lights of the music world. A valet service staffed mostly by hungry students trying to pick up some decent tips takes care of the cars, freeing new arrivals to mingle. Waiters circulate with hors d'oeuvres crafted according to Chef Auchincloss' trove of favorite recipes.
As the guests are gently urged to take their seats, Rick looks around for Kate. She said she was going to take a nap by the pool, but that was a couple of hours ago. He heads for the gate to the bathing space.
Kate is sitting up, massaging her belly with both hands, and humming softly to the baby. "I think The Peanut wants to march down the aisle with Holly. The kicks haven't stopped since Alexis and her friends started playing the prelude."
"Maybe we'll have a dancer in the family," Rick suggests, offering his arm. "May I guide you to your seat?"
Kate grabs on to Rick to pull herself up. "You may."
Rick gets Kate settled just before an arrangement of "A Thousand Years" for keyboard and strings floats through the air. Holly's sister, flown in from Hawaii for the ceremony, proceeds her down the satin-covered path that Holly slowly treads on her father's arm. Waiting beneath the arbor's blaze of spring color, Mark can't tear his gaze from the bride.
As tears flow from Kate's eyes, Rick hands her the handkerchief square from his breast pocket. She doesn't usually cry at weddings. In fact, she can't remember ever crying at a wedding. Pregnancy has done all sorts of things, not always welcome, to her emotions. But right now, being able to let go a little feels terrific.
