Couples

Chapter 71

"Any news on picking up Kushman and Flatt yet?" Rick inquires as Kate joins him for a last check on party preparations.

"Nothing yet. But every cop in the N.Y.P.D. has eyes out for them, and we have a watch on the airports. We're also coordinating with other agencies. How does everything look here? Our guests should start arriving in half an hour."

"Our Jedi masters should be here sooner than that. They want to scope out their battleground. Other than any changes they might request, everything seems fine. The pastrami and the corned beef are both excellent. I checked."

Kate grabs a handful of Rick's behind. "I'm sure you did. You didn't sample the cake, did you?"

Rick sticks out his lower lip. "Of course not! I put every ounce of my willpower into keeping my fingers out of the frosting. But I did get to taste some when I ordered it," He confesses. "It's the stuff of which dreams are made – at least if you dream about baked goods." The doorbell buzzes. "That's got to be a master or two. I asked Eduardo to send anyone in a Jedi robe straight up, but one of Bart's men will be checking I.D.s."

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Kate asks. "And where do you keep an I.D. in a Jedi robe?"

"I think it's necessary until Kushman and Flatt are in custody. And Jedi robes have pockets. They need somewhere to keep the keys to their speeder bikes and landspeeders. And even Jedi need a snack now and then."

As Rick goes to open the door, Kate waves at the sumptuous deli spread. "They sure won't need one after getting into this."

Rick nods at the man and woman arriving, lightsabers in hand. "Master Kwan, Master Griselda, welcome." He gestures to the large area of the great room floor that was encircled by the corral until an hour before. "This will be your field of battle."

Kwan's eyes sweep over the space. "Wow, who does your floors? They are outstanding."

"S & S refinishing services," Rick replies. "I'll email you a link. Master Griselda?"

The Jedi shoves an errant strand of long hair back beneath her hood. "Maybe I should have gone with Princess Leia braids, but they just don't fit my character."

"You want something to tie that back with?" Kate offers.

"Do you have a leather thong?" Griselda asks hopefully.

At a sudden vision of Kate at play, Rick slaps his hand over his mouth.

"Nothing that would work on hair," Kate explains, tamping down her own response, "but I have one of those leather barrettes with the pointed stick that goes through it."

Griselda nods sagely. "A secondary weapon. Very good. You have the mind of a Jedi."

"More like the mind of a cop. We like to have as much force with us as possible. I'll get it for you."

The doorbell buzzes again. "Ah, your opponents," Rick notes. "It won't be long now before we get events underway."

"I hope not," Kwan murmurs. "The Food Channel strips Iron Chef on Saturday nights, and I want to catch some of the knifework."

Griselda rolls her eyes. "You should have set your DVR."

While Lorne's attention is riveted on a battle, Lanie pulls Kate aside and gestures toward the master bedroom. They sit side by side on the bed. "How are you doing, Girlfriend?" Lanie asks.

"I should be asking you," Kate responds. "It's your engagement party. Have you made any wedding plans yet?"

Lanie sweeps a hand dismissively through the air. "No, you don't get out of answering me that easily. Someone tried to take you out at your own precinct. You've got to be shaken."

"Honestly, not much," Kate argues. "I think the bad guys got desperate and hired someone who couldn't get the job done. Sooner or later, criminals always make mistakes, and that's when we get them."

"If they don't get you first," the M.E. reminds her friend. "But if you're going to insist you're OK, there's nothing I can do about it."

"Lanie, I've done too many interrogations to forget I asked a question, one you didn't answer. Have you and Lorne made any plans for your wedding?"

"Not really," Lanie admits. "He's in a new job and won't be able to take off time for a while. I mean, we could have a small ceremony and plan a honeymoon later. But there doesn't seem to be much point. We spend almost every spare minute together anyway. What difference would a ceremony make?"

Kate takes her friend's hand. "You know what difference it makes. The ceremony is a commitment, on paper and in front of witnesses, that you plan to be together for the rest of your lives. That is so much different than living in each other's pockets. You can't casually change your mind or quit when things get a little rough. It's a promise, and it's meant to be kept."

"Did Rick feel that way when he married Meredith?" Lanie wonders.

"You know, I think he did. He wasn't the one who walked away. He and I have our rocky moments, sometimes longer than moments. But we get past them. And I plan to still get past them when my hair is grey, and I have to give up high heels."

Lanie shakes her head. "You'll dye the gray, and the only way you'll give up heels is if you give up walking. But I get the message. And Lorne and I are ready for that commitment. He was ready when he bought the ring, and I was ready when I accepted it. We'll just have to figure out how to fit a wedding in."

"Rick and I can figure out how to work our marriage around Lily and my job. For you and Lorne, fitting in a wedding should be a piece of cake."

Lanie grins. "And speaking of cake, that incredible creation's been calling to me ever since I got here."

"It's been calling to me ever since Rick opened the box." Kate confides. Enthusiastic applause roars from the other room. "Sounds like the tournament is over. You make the first cut, and I'll distribute slices."

Lanie pushes off the bed. "Just hand me the knife."

Kushman gazes around the docks on Long Island. The area is primarily working class. The boats that go out even on weekends are in, their catches long unloaded for the high-priced restaurants in the enclaves of the rich. Even the seabirds have settled down for the night, leaving only the shadowy outlines of watercraft, the ocean, and a partly cloudy sky.

Saul's eyes strain at the horizon. His ride is supposed to be out there somewhere. He checks the time displayed on his phone. The motorboat should be coming in to get him and take him to Flatt's yacht now. As yachts go, it's not large, but it can stay beyond the twelve-mile limit. From there, they'll head south to the Florida keys and private airstrips with no customs and no cops.

Flatt and Kushman are both still working on transferring funds, but they've managed to stow enough in Cypress to last them a while. Saul will be in the Maldives and Joe in Vanuatu, at least until things calm down. Saul is trying to look at the trip as an extended vacation. Sooner or later, he and Joe can put together a network to deal with their properties and pick up with their business again. They've always managed to take care of business. They still will. The mess in New York will blow over. He can feel it.

Lights flash, illuminating the outlines of several swift crafts. A ship's klaxon blasts loudly enough for Saul to hear it from the shore. "Oh sh*t!"