Couples
Chapter 60
Rick's call fits perfectly into the few minutes while Kate is waiting for a warrant to search Olivia Valley's apartment. "Did you get the video?"
"Just opened it," Kate replies. "I don't suppose we could have one of Craig's movie pals dub pedicab to something more appropriate?"
"It wouldn't help. Lily's been repeating it about every fifteen seconds. But think of all the fun we'll have at parties. No one will ever be able to guess it."
"You may have a point," Kate concedes. "And about parties, I got a text from Lanie asking about the gathering you've been planning. How is it going?"
"I was working on it this morning at the very moment Lily had her near-disaster. I haven't even had time to check for responses to my call for Jedi masters. But I can get back to that later. Ooh! I just had an alert banner. Look's like our unbeloved governor is going into retreat. That's Burrell and Barron nailed. But that still leaves Gaetz."
"I wouldn't worry too much about him," Kate responds. "Customs has a watch on containers headed for any company even remotely connected to him. And Purvis' guys have eyes on him too. Some of the working ladies have even gotten into the act. They hate having girls shanghaied into the business, and they're not crazy about the competition either. The Gaetz Mansion isn't going to see much more action while the cases against Gaetz and his scuzzy friends wind their way through the courts."
"So what has the ace homicide detective been up to this morning?" Rick inquires.
"Nothing much, just trapping a suspect for assault on a police officer. But that only scratched the surface." Kate giggles. "As soon as Markway comes through with my warrant, I'm hoping to nail the suspect for murder."
"Obviously, there's a joke there I'm not getting," Rick observes. "But I wonder which one of us is missing more today; me seeing you nail a killer or you hearing Lily utter her first real word."
Kate sighs, her giggly tone vanishing. "I think that this go-round, I'm the biggest loser."
A warrant safely in her pocket, Kate snaps a picture of a red satin-quilted wooden chest on the shelf in the top of Livvy's closet. With its location recorded, she places it on the floor and takes another picture before opening it. "Ryan, Espo, you've got to see this," she calls.
Esposito whistles as he eyes the contents of Kate's find. "We've had stupid suspects before, but keeping that around puts this one at the top of the fools list."
After taking another picture, Kate carefully lifts a still bloodstained knife in her gloved hand and holds it up. "Got an evidence bag?"
Ryan holds one open for Kate to drop the weapon inside.
"There's more stuff in that – what do you call that kind of a box ?" Esposito wonders.
"Hope chest?" Ryan offers.
"Motherlode," Kate replies, carefully laying out the rest of the contents, a stack of photographs. She documents each one.
"Aren't those pictures of the vic?" Esposito queries.
Kate nods. "At every stage while Olivia was cutting him up."
"Olivia Valley is one sick sister," Ryan remarks.
"And one guilty bitch," Esposito declares.
"Let's make sure a jury gets everything it needs to make that determination," Kate instructs. "Search every inch of this place."
"Yes, Ma'am." Ryan agrees.
Alexis carefully steps into the muslin version Ginny made of her wedding gown. "I haven't seen muslins since my mother – Meredith, not Kate –managed to wangle a tour for us of the back rooms at haute couture houses in Paris. She convinced them that she was making an important movie on the development of dress collections."
Ginny snaps a pincushion bracelet onto her wrist. "That sounds like it could be an interesting picture."
"It was a cute one," Alexis admits, "but not a feature film. It was one of those T.V. Christmas movies in which a fairy godmother gives a struggling Cinderella-type designer her big break and the love of royalty. Meredith was up for the role of one of the evil step-sister types. She didn't get it. But she snagged a part in an indie film that made the Sundance Festival instead, so she ended up making out."
"I have no idea how any of that works," Ginny confides, "I just like a good story, like your dad's books. And I like those new short ones from Patterson."
Alexis shudders. "Don't tell my father that. He and Patterson have been competing forever, but so far, the only thing Dad's ever beaten him at is poker."
"Your father is much better looking," Ginny points out.
"Yeah, he's better looking than all his writer poker buddies. And he claims he serves better scotch."
Ginny winks. "I'm sure he does. While I'm pinning, tell me how the rest of your wedding plans are going."
"Most of the arrangements haven't been a big deal to make. I have the house, and I lined up the rental companies and caterers we used before. I have a printer, too. But," Alexis confesses, "Dana and I still haven't finalized the guest list. I keep thinking of more people I want to come, and he isn't adding anyone. It's lopsided."
"Do you think he cares about that?" Ginny asks.
"I don't know," Alexis admits. "I don't think so."
"My guess is that it hasn't even crossed his mind. He'll want the people he cares about and who care about him there. And he'll want the same for you. If your list accomplishes that, it won't matter if it's balanced or not."
Alexis draws herself up to help the dress hang the way it will when she walks down the aisle. "Thanks, I needed to hear that."
"You're welcome," Ginny responds, "but don't pull in your tummy, Dear. You'll be in this dress for a long time. You'll need to be able to breathe – and dance. Oh, and have you done anything about Dana's feet?"
"I've never noticed anything wrong with them. Does he need special shoes or something?" Alexis wonders.
"Only if you mean two left ones. My son has a lot of talents, but dancing isn't one of them. You might want to go over whatever steps the two of you are going to do together, by rote. He can learn anything that way. You know that by now. Just don't expect him to feel the beat or have any rhythm."
A smile dances over Alexis's lips. "Dana has some moves."
Ginny clears her throat. "I meant on the dancefloor."
Rick's a bit surprised to get a call from Alexis as he sets up the snacks for a "Kate closes a case" movie night. "Dad, I need to ask you something."
Propping his phone up on the kitchen counter, Rick pours freshly made popcorn into a bowl. "Shoot, Pumpkin."
"You and Kate dance great together. You danced well with Mom too. You must have danced together at your wedding."
"She wouldn't have had it any other way," Rick confirms.
"Then how did you learn – to dance, I mean."
"That," Rick answers, is a long story which, as you might imagine, involves your Gram. And I have no doubt that she doesn't remember it the same way I do. Much as I love telling long stories, Kate and I have a date. However, if you would like to hear all about my terpsichorean adventures after Osnitz puts you through your paces tomorrow, I would be happy to oblige. I'll feed you and Dana, too, if he wants to join us for the tale. Deal?"
"Deal, Dad."