Legacy of Lies

by resauthor

A post-engagement story about life, love, and family.

Author's Notes: Legacy of Lies takes place several months after Resolutions of the Heart, which is a Chris and Rita engagement story. Legacy was written to continue the saga of that special time. Whether you have read ROH or not, this story should stand okay on its own. I hope it makes you smile a time or two.

If you enjoy this story, feedback by PM or Review is always appreciated (and makes this author very happy).

IG: Resauthor

LEGACY OF LIES

by: resauthor

"Can I get you another drink, sir?"

Tempting as the offer was, the success of his plans in the next few days depended on a clear head and a sharp mind, so the passenger in seat 14B refused. Child-sized shoes struck the back of his seat and he inwardly seethed. Earlier complaints to the youngster's mother had not done any good. Her calm, reasoning voice had been ignored by the little tyrant who was in serious need of a good backhand. That was how his parents would have handled the situation back in the day and he had turned out okay, hadn't he?

Truth be told, the five-hour flight from Los Angeles to Palm Beach had been miserable so far and there was no reason to believe it would improve before touch down. A man of his wealth and stature belonged in first class, but booking a same-day flight meant available seats were limited, and he had been forced to fly coach.

Somewhere at the back of the cabin, a baby started to cry.

He should have rented headphones, but watching an inflight movie was a distraction he had not realized he would need. Today's movie at the top of the center aisle appeared to be a love story. From his seat, he could read the subtitles. A beautiful woman was pledging her undying love, throwing herself into the arms of the battle-scarred man who had saved her.

It was a sign, he told himself. Years of hiding his true feelings, living a pretend life while keeping tabs on the woman who was his true destiny, would soon be over. Once he bared his soul to her, she would respond just like the heroine in the movie. He smiled remembering the softness of her touch, and the innocent awe in her beautiful blue eyes. She would apologize for any misunderstandings in the past and he would forgive her everything.

In less than two hours the plane would land and this nightmare flight would be over. Every minute of his stay in Florida had been planned. Every contingency had been accounted for. Sharp kicks to the back of his seat went unnoticed this time.

...

The call to a fresh crime scene in the beautiful city of Palm Beach, Florida, had come early; a full hour earlier than they were due to be at the precinct that morning, but that was fine with Sergeant Chris Lorenzo of the Palm Beach PD. An early start meant they might be able to cut out of there at a decent hour. It was their dinner plans after work that had been on his mind all night.

"Turn right at the next stop sign," his partner, Sergeant Rita Lance, directed. "I knew staying up to watch a movie last night was a bad idea. You're still half asleep."

"Don't blame the movie. I'm missing the coffee we didn't have time to make before we left the apartment."

"I hope you aren't going to blame me," she teased. "Coffee would have already been brewing if you hadn't detained me the first time I tried to get out of bed."

"I regret nothing." Chris smiled at the memory but the smile faded fast. "I am not looking forward to dinner tonight."

"You know we have to."

"No."

"This is important."

"No." He knew if he turned to look at Rita she'd have the same patient, sympathetic look on her face that she always had when discussing this particular topic.

"We need to air things out before the big day."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"It's a done deal, Christopher. I've arranged it all."

"Traitor."

"They might still be on good terms."

"Do not ever refer to that incident again."

"It was the best New Year's Eve I have ever had."

He was not about to argue with that, or with the hand that had settled reassuringly on his right thigh, but neither did much to lessen his feeling of dread.

...

Arriving at their destination, he parked their vehicle on the street directly behind the Palm Beach Country Club. Several yards away, a portion of the grassy parkway was sectioned off and secured with bright yellow crime scene tape. A passerby had spotted a body partially hidden amongst the trees and tall hedges that lined the club's rear security fence. The body was in a sitting position, slumped back against the base of a palm tree.

The concerned citizen was employed as a housekeeper at one of the mini mansions on the other side of the street. Each white, custom-built home had a picture-perfect green lawn edged with stately palm trees and other creative landscaping that gave it a monied air. This was no working-class neighborhood bordering the famous golf course.

Chris yawned and glanced in the direction of a service entrance. The gate, secured by a heavy chain and padlock, was at least thirty feet east of where their victim was situated on the grass.

"We'll get someone to check it out," Rita assured him, struggling to stifle a yawn of her own in response.

From that point forward, dinner plans were forgotten as they focused on the group of professionals standing around the tree. Expertly manicured hedges encroached on the area around its base. A squad car and two Medical Examiner's vehicles were parked nearby. A paramedic unit was packing up to leave.

The woman who had spotted the body was across the street, standing outside her car, deep in conversation with a uniformed officer who was taking notes.

Rita was by his side when Chris walked up to Keisha and greeted the Medical Examiner.

After a quick survey of the situation, his partner signaled she was heading across the street to talk to the housekeeper.

Chris' first impression of the scene was one of surprise. Their victim appeared to be a female in her thirties. She was in a sitting position on the ground with her legs splayed open, her head bent forward. The shaft of an arrow kept her pinned to the tree trunk.

Chris donned a pair of gloves and crouched down next to the body. He looked to Keisha for permission to move aside the woman's long dark hair and study the arrow's entrance wound. It was immediately granted. Keisha had been on site long enough to get the information she needed.

"Time of death?"

"My educated guess right now is midnight." Keisha pushed the red leather miniskirt higher. "Check the lividity in his legs."

"His?" Chris studied the red garter belt and black silk stockings with surprise.

"Yes," Keisha confirmed. She handed him a wallet. "He had this tucked into the back of his waistband. Thirty-five-year-old male named Alan Archer."

"Archer? You're putting me on, right?"

"Look for yourself."

Chris did a cursory inspection of the slim leather wallet. A driver's license confirmed his name. "A little too on the nose, don't you think?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it was fate."

"A rather unscientific opinion for a doctor."

"I have hidden depths you'll never understand, Sergeant," Keisha teased with a smile. An instant later she was serious again. "There is enough blood here to suggest the arrow was the cause of death, but I'll need to do a full workup. Tox screen could prove interesting. There are no signs of restraint. Why would anyone sit still long enough to be shot by an arrow close range? But then again, that is your department, not mine."

"Are we sure it was close range?"

"Not yet, but once we remove the arrow, we'll have measurements on how deep it was embedded. It went straight through, dead center."

Rita rejoined them. She caught Chris' eye. "I spoke briefly with the woman who called it in."

Chris stood. "Did she recognize the deceased?"

"No. Despite what she knew about the event last night, she assumed our vic as a woman."

"Can't blame her for that. The guy has great legs."

"I noticed, but I wasn't sure you had."

He shrugged his shoulders. "That skirt isn't much of a cover-up. How did you find out?"

"Officer Paxton and the housekeeper were talking about it."

Keisha eyed the interplay between the two of them.

Chris cleared his throat and glanced around the area. "What did she have to say about the event?"

"Last night's party was sponsored by a local eccentric. Billionaire eccentric."

"Several of those in this town."

"Agreed," Keisha piped in.

Rita continued, "Last year, local resident Cade Warren threw a birthday party for himself in Ibiza, but this year being his fiftieth, he decided to make it a fundraiser. It was the talk of the town. Even the housekeeper knew about the theme, unusual as it was. The men had to dress as women – the women had to dress as men. I don't think she knows much more than that. Her employers are in Europe right now so she hasn't been spending much time at their house. She was on the way in when the red skirt got her attention."

Chris let out a low whistle. "This town never fails to amaze me. We need to speak to the club manager and find out how many guests were here last night."

Rita scanned the area as the body was being prepared for transport to the coroner's office. "I wonder what Mr…." She glanced at Chris' notebook. "Seriously?"

"I know, right?" Chris confirmed with an affectionate wink.

Rita returned the smile before suddenly remembering they were not alone. She cleared her throat. "I wonder what Mr. Archer was doing back here. This is a long way from the ballroom or the parking lot."

"I don't think he could have walked from the ballroom in the shoes he's wearing," Chris stated matter-of-factly. Their victim was wearing high-heeled black pumps. They were nowhere near as inspiring as the gravity-defying stilettos Rita occasionally wore, but they were impressive nonetheless. "Unless you think he could have."

"At 6'1"…about 160 pounds, my guess is no. There must have been a car or golf cart involved. No shortage of either here, but I don't see any tire marks. We'll need to see the security footage."

...

Chris and Rita spent the next half hour interviewing the manager of the country club and the event coordinator. Last night's party had been a pricey fundraiser. Tickets were $10,000 per person or $15,000 per couple. Non-refundable. Payment was required in advance, but if you showed up without the proper costume, you were turned away. The event coordinator was able to provide contact information for Cade Warren, a directory of all employees who worked the event, and the previous night's guest list consisting of 200 names with addresses.

Their next stop was the office belonging to the head of security. They learned that all 200 guests had been checked in at the front desk and their identities verified. There were zero no-shows for this high-profile event. Cade Warren was a major player in Palm Beach's financial and social circles which made his party invitations highly sought after. His darker side, his tendency to ignore the accepted boundaries of good taste and sexual conduct, only made him more intriguing to those who pursued out his attention. The fact that he gave away millions to charity each year and was on the board of several Fortune 500 companies, meant most people looked the other way regarding his odd behavior. Last night's party had been paid for out of his own pocket, allowing one hundred percent of the ticket sales to be donated to local charities.

Fast forwarding through the previous night's security camera footage, the victim was spotted arriving with his wife who was dressed in 18th century Victorian menswear. Security was able to confirm his identity. Less than thirty minutes later, according to the time stamp, the victim's wife could be seen walking back out the main entrance arm in arm with a guest dressed as a famous female country singer. Although there was no footage of the victim leaving the club, he did pop up on screen one more time later in the evening. The ballroom was crowded, but he appeared animated, deep in conversation with another guest whose identity he was blocking.

Their victim had somehow left the building unseen and ended up on the street behind the country club. With any luck, security would be able to identify the person Alan Archer was speaking to and save the Homicide team hours of follow-up and footwork.

The head of security let them know that additional footage might be available. Cade Warren had purportedly hired a professional videographer/photographer for the event which ended at 1 a.m.

Security was able to verify that one of the club's golf carts had gone missing. Whether or not their victim had been in the missing cart would remain a mystery until it was found and the Crime Scene Unit went over it for prints. Had Archer left the building willingly or unwillingly, and with who? Not much made sense at this point.

A call to Cade Warren's home en route to the station was picked up by his answering machine, so Rita left a message. If he did not return their call within a few hours they would drop by his house unannounced. By the time they walked through the double doors of the Palm Beach PD's Homicide Division, their discussion had turned once again to that evening's plans.

...

"It's about time you two got in." Harry was standing in the doorway to his office. "What was the M.E.'s conclusion at the scene?"

"Definitely homicide," Rita informed him. "By way of an arrow through the chest."

"Arrow? That's something you don't see every day."

"The killer probably used a crossbow." Chris quickly turned away to answer his cell phone. "Lorenzo…"

"What's with him?" Cap asked.

"I don't know," Rita shrugged. "We're waiting for a call back from Cade Warren. Mr. Warren hosted a birthday party for himself at the country club last night. Our vic was a guest."

"Are we talking about a random crime or could another party guest have taken him out back to dispatch him?"

"Not sure what to think yet, Cap. We have a lot of follow-up to do and that includes tracking down Cade Warren for an interview."

Chris turned back to face Rita. "The eagle has landed."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. "Is this about the case?"

"No," Rita assured him.

"My father is in town," Chris mentioned with a grimace.

"Why?"

"Long story."

"Oh, okay. You don't want to share. Pardon me for butting into your precious personal lives during work hours."

"It's not like that, Cap," Chris was quick to reassure. "The wedding situation has been stressing us both out and…"

"It has? Why didn't you come to me? You know better than to ask one of your parents for marriage advice."

"We aren't stressed about getting married, Cap. We're just trying to figure out how to have both my parents at the ceremony. Rita thought it would be best if we got them in town together ahead of time so we could sit down and hash things out."

"This is your half-baked idea, Lance?" The Captain's opinion of the plan could be easily read on his face.

"We're all adults," Rita mumbled defensively.

"Are you crazy? Have you met your future in-laws?" The Captain's expression was incredulous. "I've met 'em. Purposely putting those two together in a room again before it is absolutely necessary is just asking for trouble. Big trouble."

"Come on, Cap."

The Captain chose not to argue the point, heading back to his office instead. He was still shaking his head when he disappeared from sight.

Rita turned helplessly to Chris. "Don't listen to him. Everything will work out fine. Where is Benny staying?"

"He just checked into a suite at the Hilton."

"Be grateful he turned down your offer to stay at the loft."

"Making the offer felt like the right thing to do at the time, but it's a relief to know he's at the Hilton instead."

"I assume the plan was to give him the bedroom and you take the couch."

"No, the plan was to stay at your place and let him have the entire apartment to himself."

Rita laughed. "Any word from Anna?"

"Not yet, but she'll be at the restaurant tonight."

"There's been radio silence all month, how can you be so sure?"

"She has been dying for more details about the wedding. She won't want my father to have more inside information than she does. Dinner would be less stressful if she cancels on us, but I doubt we'll get that lucky."

"Be nice."

"You keep saying that," he teased.

"That's because I'm not sure the request has sunk in yet."

So far, so good Rita thought to herself. The lightness of his tone was encouraging. Her ultimate goal was to have both his parents at their wedding. Considering the strong personalities of both, there were bound to be a few bumps and plenty of drama along the way.

Back at her desk, she divided the guest list in two, handed Chris his half, and started making phone calls.

...

A few hours later, they were informed that their victim's wife had returned to her home. They were on their way to make notification when a call from Cade Waren was put through to Rita's cell phone. Rita spent a few minutes explaining the situation to him and set an appointment time for her and Chris to pay him a visit. Their day was booking up quickly.

Notification was Chris' least favorite official duty, but he recognized the importance. It was often looked back on as the family member's worst day of their life. Alan Archer's wife, however, seemed to take it all in stride. Their interview was brief and to the point.

Tiffany Archer's good looks had been apparent even while dressed as a man in the video from the night before, but in person, she was nothing short of stunning. A statuesque brunette in her late twenties, she would look right at home on the stage of any major beauty pageant. Her measurements were textbook perfect in the short, fitted, red dress she was wearing. Her skin and hair were flawless. She moved with the confidence of a woman assured of her appeal to the opposite sex.

Despite a lack of tears, she touched a tissue to the inside corner of each skillfully made-up eye before carefully answering Chris' questions.

"We agreed that our marriage would be open. I never promised to be faithful. Alan knew that."

Chris kept his expression professional. "Was it open on his side also?"

"I assume so, but I never asked. Honestly, he was married to his work, to making money."

"Did Alan know you were leaving the party with someone?"

"Yes, I informed him and he was fine with it. Alan had been stressed about something lately, probably money-related because his main reason for attending the party was to get time alone with Cade."

"He spent $15,000 on a pair of tickets for last night when he was having money problems?"

"$15,000 is…was… loose change to Alan, Sergeant. As a successful stockbroker, he was in demand. His clientele was made up of Palm Beach elites. He wasn't short on funds, but he had come up with a creative new investment strategy, something that had never been done before - or so he claimed. He was hoping Cade would be his first major investor."

"What did he mean by creative?"

"Haven't got a clue. He kept calling it groundbreaking, but I have no interest in financial matters. It's all so boring."

"I apologize for bringing this up so soon, Mrs. Archer, but are you the sole heir to your husband's estate?"

"Yes, I am," she stated without hesitation. "It was part of our prenup."

A few minutes later, Chris was back behind the wheel and driving south on Ocean Boulevard toward the PBPD.

"Why bother getting married if you still want to see other people?" he pondered aloud. "I doubt she'll be shedding any tears tonight for poor Alan."

Rita turned back from the open window. Her sunglasses hid her expressive green eyes, but he knew what she was thinking by the firm set of her lips and one arched eyebrow that could be seen above the dark lenses. The bright sunlight was giving her wind-tossed hair beautiful highlights.

"Mrs. Archer is some piece of work, Sam," she said. "I don't get it either. She had all the advantages in their marriage. Unlimited funds without any of the physical or emotional commitments of a traditional marriage. I don't see what Alan Archer got out of the arrangement, but he must have felt something for her if he agreed to her terms."

"Maybe all he wanted was a trophy wife. Assuming her alibi checks out, we're left without a motive."

"Or a suspect."

"Yeah, that." Chris eyed his partner. "You aren't marrying me for my money, are you, Sam?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"You certainly could," he laughed, "but you've seen my paycheck and I've seen yours."

"No kidding."

Chris shook his head. "Open marriage doesn't sound like much of a marriage at all."

Rita laughed. "We've definitely seen enough examples of what not to do."

"We sure have." Chris reached for her left hand and squeezed it. Sometimes, all it took was a few seconds of physical contact to remind him love was more than a fairytale - if you were lucky enough to find it and smart enough to hold on to it. "Okay, so open marriage is off the table for us. No big surprise. Let's get back to the shop and try to put a few puzzle pieces together. We need to get out of work on time tonight."

Archer's wife had given them the name and phone number of the man she had spent the previous night with at a local hotel, so they set up an interview at the precinct. Their original plan to visit him at his home was revised when he explained that his wife, a doctor of neurology at the local hospital, would be at the house after working a night shift. His marriage was not as open as Tiffany Archer's. So many lies.

...

Chris pressed and held the buzzer at the main gate of Cade Warren's mansion. Rita had planned to join him for the interview, but George Donovan, the city's Assistant District Attorney, had needed her for last minute trial prep on an earlier case. After identifying himself through the speaker, the ten-foot-high decorative iron gates swung inward, and Chris drove up the winding path to the imposing front entrance of the Warren home. A uniformed housekeeper held one of the oversized front doors open just wide enough to usher him inside.

"Mr. Warren wishes you to wait for him in the salon, Sergeant Lorenzo."

"Salon?"

Female voices echoed in the high-ceilinged entryway. The voices seemed to come from every direction.

"Yes, Sergeant."

What in the world was a salon? He leaned in and lowered his voice, meeting the housekeeper's friendly gaze as he asked, "Exactly where would that be?"

"I'll take you there," she assured him with a smile.

Turned out a salon was the same thing as a living room, only bigger in this case. Three overstuffed white couches were strategically placed around the large room creating several separate conversation areas that included high-back chairs and large coffee tables. The décor was relaxed, somewhat modern, and very expensive if the life-size ebony sculptures of nude women in every corner were anything to go by.

Chris remained standing.

"Hi!"

"Hello…" Chris responded automatically to the scantily clad brunette walking past the room. She disappeared down the hallway, leaving only the tantalizing scent of expensive perfume in her wake. There was a time in his life when he would have been tempted to follow her.

"Can I get you a drink?" The offer came from a different young woman, just as beautiful as the first, but blonde, wearing a midriff-baring green halter top and white shorts that left little to the imagination.

"No thank you. I'm on duty."

"Oh!" She appeared surprised. "Are you waiting for Cade?"

"Yes, I am."

His answer was acknowledged with a nod before she, too, disappeared down the same hallway. The young woman could not be more than nineteen or twenty years old. Far too young in Chris' mind to be hanging around with a man of Warren's age. Interesting lifestyle Mr. Warren was leading.

Several other women in various stages of dress crisscrossed through the open areas of the house as Chris continued to wait.

"Sorry for the delay, Sergeant. I was on an international call."

Cade Warren seemed to appear out of nowhere, casually walking into the room looking much as he had on the security tape. Tall, with a wide-shouldered, thick-set build, he was a man who had probably been fit all his life but had started to fill out and broaden in his fifth decade. Interestingly enough, he had been the only male at the party not dressed as a woman.

"Where's the babe?"

Surprised, Chris glared back at Warren though narrowed eyes. "Which babe would that be?"

"Patrick, the manager at the club, mentioned the homicide detective who questioned him this morning was a great-looking broad. I figured she was the one I talked to on the phone. Sergeant Lance, right?"

"Sergeant Lance is my partner. She couldn't make it so you'll be talking to me."

Warren frowned. Or was it a smirk? The guy was giving off sleazy vibes despite the expensive packaging.

"I'd rather talk to her."

So would I, Chris thought to himself, but held his tongue. "I am here on official business, Mr. Warren. If you can answer a few questions for me now, we'll get through this quickly and I'll be out of your hair. If you would prefer to contact your attorney and come down to the station for a more formal interview, I can arrange that alternative with no problem."

"Am I a suspect?"

"No, sir. You are visible on the security footage the entire night. We don't have a suspect at this time."

Chris' patience with Warren was already wearing thin.

Warren picked up on his impatience; the man was no dummy and gestured to the nearest chair. "Let's have a seat, Sergeant."

The interview did not take long. Chris was able to find out that Warren had only spoken to Alan Archer for a few minutes. He was annoyed at the stockbroker for trying to pull him away from the festivities to talk business. He had brushed off the younger man and told him they would talk later in the week. Alan Archer had made him money in the past, he had nothing against the man, but it was the wrong time and place for that type of discussion.

Warren's opinion of Archer's wife was not as charitable, but he refused to elaborate.

The most useful piece of information he provided was the name and address of the videographer who was developing footage of the event for future advertising and fundraising purposes.

...

Later that evening…..

The restaurant was Palm Beach elegant, a step up from the typical steak house or diner that better suited Chris' paycheck. Only the best for Anna Alexis. His gaze swept over the stylish décor and well-dressed clientele, quickly settling on a couple seated at a prominently located table for four. Rita seemed to spot them at the same time and led the way. As was expected even in a restaurant commonly patronized by the city's wealthiest residents, several of the diners were clearly in awe and surreptitiously spying on the movie star in their midst.

Chris had promised himself he would make it through the evening without dwelling on the past for Rita's sake. It was important to her that both his parents be at their wedding.

Benny stood as they approached the table and made a big show of greeting Rita. He had not been back to Florida since the beginning of the new year, but had made the effort to call Chris at least once a month. Those phone calls, along with the few times Chris had talked to his mother, had made it clear that his parents' truce on New Year's Eve had barely lasted twenty-four hours.

Chris greeted his mother with a brief hug and then moved aside so Rita could do the same. They took their seats quickly under the watchful eyes of the other diners.

Everything started off well, but once the initial pleasantries were over, Benny was up to his usual antics.

"Chris - help me out on this, pal. Tell your mother she shouldn't bring a date to your wedding."

Chris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They had appeared civil with each other until they noticed his arrival. Was all this just performance art? He had warned Rita that they would not, or could not, behave. "Why would I care if she brings a date?"

"It's rude. She is trying to upstage you two on your big day. You know how much Anna craves the spotlight. She probably has one of them Hollywood gigolo types on speed dial."

Anna, fully aware of the curious eyes on their table, smiled, keeping her voice low as she hissed, "Chris told me you asked about a 'plus one,' so you have no room to complain."

And just like that, the gloves were off.

Chris had no intention of jumping into the argument, but stated simply, "We had hoped the truce between you two would last."

"Never with that man. He's infuriating."

Benny's grin widened. "My plus one didn't work out."

"You dumped her already," Anna added smugly.

"I'm not a teenager..."

"Don't I know it," Anna shot back, turning away to send Rita a painfully pleasant smile.

Rita cleared her throat, ready to redirect the conversation.

But Benny was not willing to let Anna have the last word. "I'm a grown man who knows how to part ways with someone I'm dating if it doesn't work out."

Anna glanced back with disdain. "She was probably a child."

"She certainly had a youthful body."

"That's it!"

Chris sighed and placed a hand on his mother's arm, urging her to stay in her seat, which she did with a long-suffering expression. How she managed to still look picture-perfect while angry, he had no idea. Rita, on the other hand, appeared deflated, ready to give up on her mutual civility game plan for the bickering couple. The plan had been doomed from the start, but he felt her disappointment. It was the last straw.

"You know what this means?" Chris delivered a pointed look to each parent. They stopped taking swipes at each other and stared at him blankly. "Only one of you can come to the wedding and I will not be deciding which one. You two will have to draw straws. If that doesn't work, you're both disinvited."

"That's ridiculous!" they shot back in unison.

Chris leaned in to quietly explain, "I will not allow our wedding to be used as a stage or a courtroom for either of you to perform. It is our day and we set the rules. We intend to celebrate the future, not argue about the past."

A white-jacketed waiter approached cautiously, the tension at the table obvious. He took their drink order with minimal interaction, but it was enough of an interruption to put a pause on the escalating situation.

"You know why we asked you to join us tonight." Rita had re-centered herself. Her calm energy, a notable contrast to his growing anger, had both Anna and Benny relaxing back into their chairs. "The wedding is only a few months away. It's important to Chris and me that both of you are there."

Chris raised an eyebrow but knew better than to disagree.

"We are going to be family and I'm asking you to get past your differences."

"I love a good party." Benny offered his most charming grin. "I'll be there on your big day, Rita."

Anna managed an elegant shoulder shrug and a surprisingly warm smile. "I would never miss Christopher's wedding. He means the world to me."

"Thank you, mother," was all Chris could think to say.

Benny started to say something else but changed his mind when he caught sight of Rita's expression.

"Mr. Lorenzo..."

"Call me Benny, or Pop, like the big guy does. As you said, we're going to be family."

"Benny..."

Benny accepted her decision with uncommon grace.

"Can we all agree that a wedding should be a joyous event free from arguing and trying to one-up each other? "

"Of course, Rita," Anna answered before Benny could respond. She turned her back on her ex once again to focus on her future daughter-in-law. "I'll be in town for a few days, do you have a dress already? I have excellent connections."

"No doubt..."

"Pop..." Chris warned, hoping for more than two minutes of peace at the table.

"I'll be in town a few days, myself. Need any help with the bachelor party, son? I have excellent connections."

"Insufferable..."

Benny ignored Anna's insult. "All this wedding talk reminds me of something I'd like to discuss with you two."

This could not be good, Chris thought to himself. "Sure, Pop. What is it?"

"I want to pay for your wedding."

Before Chris could respond, his mother jumped back into the conversation.

"Oh no, you don't. I was going to offer to pay for the wedding, but I was going to do it in private, not in the middle of a restaurant."

"Too late, doll. I spoke first. It's my gift to the kids."

"We aren't kids, Mr. Lorenzo."

"Benny, Rita. Call me Benny. You know what I mean. I want to help out."

"Pop! We can handle this. We don't need your money."

"I will be paying for the wedding," Anna proclaimed. "Chris is right. We don't need your help after all these years."

"What do you mean all these years? I've been around just as much as you have."

"Please keep your voices down," Rita begged.

"Rita and I will be paying for our wedding," Chris said quietly but firmly. "We will not discuss the matter of finances again. Not now. Not ever. The waiter is on his way back here. Everyone is going to place their dinner order so we can get this ordeal over with."

"Well…" Anna bristled but schooled her features as the waiter reappeared.

Benny looked at his son with a twinkle in his eye and something close to admiration, but Chris was too annoyed to notice. Rita, however, did notice and let out a frustrated sigh.

Chris had tried to tell her it was an impossible goal, but she had been convinced his parents could make it through a day without a blowup if they would just try. Her mistake was assuming they would be willing to try.

As dinner progressed though, they seemed to recognize Chris was at the end of his patience, and the conversation remained civil until the end of the meal.

They were discussing after-dinner drinks when something set Anna off.

Rita was sitting directly across from Anna and noticed the immediate change in her demeanor. She appeared startled, her eyes widened, and her body went still. Rita turned around to check out the entrance of the restaurant. A man who looked to be in his early sixties had entered and was speaking to the maître d'. He glanced briefly in their direction. Rita continued to watch as he pulled a cellphone out of his jacket pocket and disappeared into the bar.

Chris followed Rita's gaze. When she turned back around, he sent her a questioning look, but all she could do was shrug her shoulders. Nothing appeared out of order.

"Are you okay, Mother?"

"Yes – of course I am," she answered hastily, but her voice sounded strained. Benny, in a rare moment of concern, tried to cover her hand with his, but she yanked it away.

Rita went on alert.

"Wow," Benny piped in annoyed at his ex, "your record for civility is 45 minutes. You've improved."

"I'm tired of all this tension," Anna declared to the table. "Have the maître d' call me a taxi, Chris."

Chris and Benny stared at Ana with surprise.

"Anna?" Rita waited for Chris' mother to look directly at her before continuing. "Is there something I can do for you right now?"

Anna's return smile was oddly vulnerable which was something Rita hadn't seen in her since the first time they met and Anna was desperate to reconnect with her son.

"Thank you, Rita, but I'd like to return to my hotel. I'm tired all of a sudden. Must be the jetlag."

Chris stiffened and she knew he recognized Anna's polite lie as clearly as she did. It was their skillset after all.

"We'll be happy to drop you off," she assured her future mother-in-law.

"My limo is in the parking lot as we speak," Benny interrupted. "I'll take Anna straight to her hotel. It's a workday. You two take off. Dinner is my treat."

"Pop…"

"Don't Pop me, Chris. Take your beautiful fiancée and vamoose. Your mother is safe with me."

"Mother?"

"You two take off," Anna said dismissively as if her mind were a million miles away. "Benny will get me to the hotel."

There was nothing left to do but leave so they said their goodbyes. Rita made a point of checking out the bar area before walking out to the parking lot. There were less than a dozen people in there, and the man she had seen enter the restaurant earlier was not one of them.

...

Outside in the parking lot, Chris paused before opening the passenger door of the car for her. "What's going on here?" Is it safe to leave them alone?"

"I have no idea," Rita shrugged, "but she was quick to accept his offer of a ride. Maybe it's exactly what they need."

"Something upset her."

"When I looked over my shoulder, an older man had just walked in. I think he headed for the bar, but he wasn't in there when we walked past it just now."

Dealing with either of Chris' parents could be tiring, but trying to referee them as a pair was downright exhausting. There wasn't much conversation on the drive to Rita's apartment.

Once inside, she headed straight to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Before it had a chance to boil, she changed her mind and removed it from the stovetop, selecting a bottle of wine instead.

"Why can't they ignore each other," Chris asked. He was standing in the doorway watching her wield the bottle opener. "Why do they care what the other one says or does? After thirty-plus years of little to no contact, they are still fighting. They're rarely in the same state, or country, for that matter! Why do they keep acting out the same old, tired, script over and over again?

"Unresolved pain."

Chris considered her answer and sighed. "It's so pointless."

"Face it, Chris. Whether they like it or not, whether you like it or not, they still have a strong connection to each other." When he failed to respond right away, she stated the obvious. "You."

Her partner did not look convinced. "I think it's more than that. It has to be."

...

The drive to Anna's hotel, Palm Beach's most highly reviewed five-star hotel and resort did not take long. Benny watched from the back seat with amusement as their limousine came to a stop in front of the entrance. A uniformed valet rushed toward the vehicle. He waited until the overpaid employee was less than three feet away, then flung open the back door. No tip this time, my man, he silently mused, stepping out unaided. Typical of Anna to stay in such pampered surroundings. She suited this place. The lobby beyond the glass entrance was beautiful, elegant even, but the beauty lacked warmth. Personally, he preferred the Hilton, the site of the PBPD's New Year's Eve party several months earlier.

Benny turned to Anna, continuing to block the valet who was still attempting to ingratiate himself. He offered her a hand as she stepped out of the vehicle. She had been silent and unsmiling for most of the drive, rarely looking his way or responding to any of his questions. Whatever was bothering her, she did not want to talk about it – least of all to him.

He watched her now as she looked past him to the hotel. Her grip on his hand tightened almost immediately and he heard her sharp intake of breath. She seemed frozen in place, much as she had in the restaurant. He followed her line of sight, but other than a bellman and a solitary guest taking care of business at the front desk, the lobby was empty.

Anna suddenly snapped out of it, releasing his hand, and backing away from the bright lights. "He's already here," she whispered.

Benny frowned and turned back to the lobby. Confused, his hawk-like gaze scanned the area again for threats. Other than a few hotel employees, the lobby was empty now. "What's going on, doll?"

Anna did not respond but sank further into the leather interior, seeking refuge in the shadows.

"Do you want me to go in there? Do I need to talk to someone?"

"No! I need to talk to Christopher. He can handle this."

There was a shrillness to Anna's voice that surprised and intrigued Benny. The great Anna Alexis was scared, but he could not imagine why.

"Why bother the lovebirds?" he argued. "You don't think I can handle whatever this is? You'd be shocked at what I've had to handle in the courtroom for the past thirty-five years. What is going on here?"

"Call Chris," she repeated.

This was starting to feel personal. Had her memories of their time together been completely forgotten? Lorenzo men did not go running to others, especially their children, for help with every little problem. "I'll go check things out."

"No! Beniamino, please! Don't leave me alone. I need to get away from this hotel."

Benny was still confused, but the use of an ancient nickname had caught him off guard. She remained hidden in the shadows, but her sudden vulnerability got through his protective shell. Ancient nicknames brought out ancient memories. And feelings. What was going on here?

Against his better judgment, he pulled out his phone and did as she asked while keeping his eyes trained on their surroundings. The valet had turned his greed to another vehicle, but their limo driver remained at attention nearby. Benny shrugged in his direction and signaled they would be leaving. His conversation with Chris was short and they were quickly on the way to Rita's apartment.

...

Killing time in the swanky hotel bar, he couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to visit Palm Beach. Was she here for work? Several well-known producers had homes on the barrier island. Was she being considered for a new movie or maybe a play? Hopefully, she wasn't here to visit a new boyfriend. He had not been able to see the faces of the men at her table in the restaurant, but he could tell one of them was definitely too young for her. The other, though? The thought of another new man in her life irritated him beyond belief. He ordered another shot of whiskey.

His decision to pursue wealth before once again approaching the only woman he had ever truly loved, meant gratification had been delayed far too long. It wasn't until his wife's recent death that he finally had full control of the sizable estate her father had left the two of them. He had missed out on so much time with Anna, but none of that mattered anymore. He had money, his health was good, and he was free to openly love her. More importantly, SHE was free. It was vital to correct the past now while there was still time to enjoy the future.

Hiring a private detective to locate her hotel had been a genius-level move on his part. Truth be told, he had invested a small fortune in their relationship already, but he wasn't complaining. The end result would be worth it.

...

Rita walked out of the kitchen and into the living room just as Chris was ending a phone call. She handed him a wine glass. "What's up?"

"Guess who's on their way here?"

"Who?"

"My parents..."

"To apologize?"

"Not even close."

Without missing a beat, Rita set her glass aside and started plumping couch pillows, picking up stray bits of clothing. "I thought your father was dropping Anna off at her hotel."

"He was, but something happened there. Something spooked her."

"That doesn't sound like Anna."

"We're all in agreement on that, but she won't explain it to him. She wants to talk to me." Chris caught a dress shirt thrown in his direction. "I knew this would blow up in our faces."

"Don't start. If he's worried about her, maybe there is hope they can get along."

"Think of it, Sam. Just the two of us with a justice of the peace and the ocean at our backs. The waves would be our soundtrack."

Rita stopped what she was doing. Her eyes narrowed in concern. "Is that what you really want?"

"No," Chris was quick to assure her. His expression softened, and he pulled her to him so he could nuzzle her neck. "You know my parents make me crazy. I didn't mean to dump this on you."

"You aren't dumping anything on me. We're discussing the situation, which is how I hope we'll always tackle problems. What do you honestly think we should do?"

"I love you, which means I plan on doing this wedding thing only once, and I want to do it right. I want everyone who's been with us on this crazy ride to share in our day; to celebrate with us."

She relaxed in his arms, forgetting for a moment about the armful of clothes she was carrying and their impending visitors. "And I love you. I'm looking forward to being married no matter what the arrangements are because we've both waited a long time to make a commitment like this and I'm just as excited as you are to have our chosen family of friends with us on the big day. That being said, I have to admit that having your mother and father there would make it even more perfect."

Heavy-lidded blue eyes warmed at her words, dropping to focus on her lips. "I've been wanting to kiss you all day."

Rita smiled at his husky tone and the deftly managed change of topic. "You already kissed me today. Many times. Just ten minutes ago as you were unlocking the front…"

"But not like this..."

Rita leaned into him, her free hand cupping the back of his head as his mouth plundered hers. "Definitely not like that," she murmured against his lips. It wasn't until she repositioned the clothes to her other arm so they wouldn't fall that she remembered they had visitors on the way. She pulled back, face flushed, lips moist. "I need to get these clothes upstairs. We'll have to continue this discussion after your parents leave."

Chris cleared his throat. "Yeah, right." Grabbing a decorative pillow from the couch, he swatted her backside as she headed for the stairs.

Rita laughed, calling out over her shoulder, "You do realize we have less than two months to figure out the parent issue, right? I still have faith in us..."

...

Chris was still grinning, shaking his head when he answered a sharp knock at Rita's front door. His mother was standing on the threshold looking pale, clinging to Benny who was uncommonly silent. Concern was etched in his father's features.

Something was wrong. Chris felt himself flip into detective mode and he sensed Rita, who had just returned downstairs, doing the same. "What's happened?"

Benny brushed past him. "Shut the door," he ordered curtly. "Lock it."

Chris did just that. Benny appeared to be in high-powered attorney mode. Not that Chris had ever seen his father in action in the courtroom, but he imagined it looked a lot like this.

"Can I get you something to drink, Anna?" Rita asked as Benny led her over to the couch. "Water? Wine?"

Anna took a seat, aware that all eyes were on her. "Whiskey… cognac… whatever you have."

Rita's eyebrows shot up, but she immediately poured a few fingers of whiskey into a crystal tumbler and handed it to her future mother-in-law.

Chris remained standing, facing his mother as she took small sips of the amber liquid. It was hard to remain patient, but he was picking up signals from his partner and he trusted her urging to give his mother a minute. His father, unfortunately, was not picking up signals from anyone as he paced the small living room like a caged tiger.

"Tell us what's wrong," Benny commanded when he finally came to a stop in front of Anna.

Anna took another slow sip from her glass and glanced at Chris instead of her ex. "He's here."

That wasn't much to go on and Chris sensed he'd better start asking questions before his father blew a fuse.

"Who is here?" Rita asked.

Thanks, partner.

"It's a long story," Anna hedged.

"At this rate, we're going to be here all night. Spit it out, Angel!"

Benny's annoyance seemed to give Anna strength.

"My first paid acting job was a few lines in a TV movie for Maxim Studios. I wasn't the lead, of course, but I had several good lines. Very emotional. Not bad for a young girl without a SAG card."

"That would be a few years before we met." Benny sounded more matter-of-fact now.

"Three to be exact."

This was not the time to go traveling down memory lane. "So, what happened back then that's freaking you out now?"

"Chris…"

"I'm sorry, Rita, but my father is right. This could take all night."

"Christopher…."

"Mother..."

"It's embarrassing."

"After being on set with you for The Story of Q several years back, I don't think whatever happened all those decades ago is going embarrass any of us now."

His comment hit home. Anna nodded in understanding.

"It was a casting couch situation," she finally blurted out.

"What?!"

"Let me rephrase that. It was an attempt at a casting couch situation."

Benny looked ready to murder someone, Rita appeared sympathetic, and Chris was speechless at the unexpected twist.

Anna quickly continued, "My mother had come to the set with me that day and happened to hear the commotion. She walked in and all hell broke loose."

"Grandma Rose to the rescue once again. I'm not surprised."

"Tough old battle axe."

"Just because she didn't like you, Benny, that's no excuse to speak ill of the dead."

"Not liking me is an understatement. She hated my guts."

"She didn't hate you – she just didn't think you were good enough for me."

"Turns out she was right, wasn't she?"

"Time-out!" Chris shouted at his parents, not for the first time in his life. "Can we please get back on track? Are you telling me the guy who attacked you is the same guy you saw today?"

"Yes."

"That was nearly forty years ago," Benny pointed out. "How do you know the old guy you saw at the restaurant was the same person?"

"I know it was him."

Chris and Benny looked at each other.

"What happened after Grandma Rose interrupted?"

"She threatened to sue. He lost his job."

"That would have been unusual back then," Rita interjected.

"Chris knows how my mother was. Soft on the outside, but pure steel on the inside. I was scared and embarrassed at the time – I was certain my career was ruined before it had a chance to begin – but she made sure I was protected. He hadn't been with the studio long, so he was fired, but I was allowed to finish filming."

"End of story!" Benny added with a flourish.

"Unfortunately, not."

Chris' patience was waning. "Why are you afraid of him?"

"I'm not…" Anna began defensively but stopped herself. "For several years after that incident, he kept trying to contact me. I ignored the calls and letters. It was easy to do as I started getting more jobs, hired a manager, and started traveling. The same year I got married, my manager let me know that the calls and letters had abruptly stopped. I figured he was dead or obsessed with someone new."

"And you never heard from him again?"

"Not exactly."

"Mother!"

"He tried to contact me a few months ago, so I tried to handle it the same way I originally did. I ignored him and had my manager intercept any mail or phone calls. I don't want anything to do with him."

"Did that work?"

"No. He's more persistent this time. I keep seeing him everywhere I go. He was at LaGuardia airport a few weeks ago when I arrived in New York City for an industry event. He was seated in the back row of the theater on the day of the award show. I've even seen him standing on the sidewalk when I was shopping on Rodeo Drive."

"Has he approached you or said anything to you?"

"I refuse to give him a chance. The man gives me the creeps. I don't go out alone anymore. I thought I'd be safe here in Palm Beach, but then I saw him walk into the restaurant tonight and I had to get away. That should have been the end of it, but by the time your father's limo got to my hotel, he was already in the foyer, probably asking about me at the front desk. How did he get hold of my itinerary? This cannot be a coincidence. It isn't safe for me to go back there."

"You should have told me about this guy back when we met," Benny said heatedly. "I could have done something."

Chris had to admit his father had a point. "What's his name, Mother?"

How big is this guy?" Benny interrupted. "Six feet or under?"

Chris rolled his eyes and ignored his father's posturing.

Anna acted as if she hadn't heard her ex, answering Chris' question instead. "I knew him as Bill Smith. The casting director called him Billy."

"Could his name be more generic?" Benny groused.

"Chris and I will go over to your hotel, Anna, and see if he's registered there."

"Thank you, Rita."

"California has some of the toughest stalking laws in the country. Have you tried contacting the LAPD?"

"Yes, Chris, I have. Beverly Hills PD also, but there is only so much they can do without proof."

Benny was back to pacing again. "Why would this joker suddenly appear again? What's his motive? Revenge or obsession? Have you talked to him recently? Did you lead him on in any way?"

"Of course not! I haven't talked to him since the incident at Maxim. I have no interest in this man!" The pitch of Anna's voice was rising again.

"Settle down, Angel," Benny soothed as he returned to her side. "I didn't mean to suggest this is your fault. I'm just trying to figure this psycho out. Obviously, you can't go back to your hotel and you can't stay here."

Chris glanced at Rita again, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Why exactly can't she stay here, Pop?"

"No security, big guy. Rita said you two are going to the hotel. What if he found out she's your mother? Anna can't be here alone. I have a suite at the Hilton. My driver will take us there. I'll alert hotel security and she'll be able to relax."

"Mother?"

Anna pressed her fingertips to her forehead and appeared lost in her thoughts. "Your father is right, Chris. I don't want you and Rita to worry about me."

So that was that. Benny and Anna left a few minutes later. Chris and Rita walked them outside, remaining on the sidewalk as the black stretch limo whisked the couple away to the Hilton Hotel and Resort.

...

"Lance! Lorenzo!"

Chris and Rita looked up from their desks as the Captain strode in though the double doors of the Homicide Department. Harry Lipschitz was looking a little frazzled upon arrival this morning.

"Where are we on the Archer investigation?"

"Still waiting on the autopsy results – should be available later today," Chris said. "Toxicology report, probably not until early next week. We've cleared most of the guest list with security footage."

Rita set her pen down and offered an assist. "We're meeting Warren's videographer at his studio when it opens at ten. We're hoping he's got more footage of our vic."

The Captain nodded as they finished the update. "If you need additional manpower on this let me know. Cade Warren's high-priced attorney was on the phone with the Commissioner early this morning, and the Commissioner hates having his breakfast interrupted, so he called and instructed me to make nice with Warren."

"What's Warren's beef?" Chris asked drily. "I told him yesterday he wasn't a suspect. He's all over the security footage at the time of Archer's death."

"Who knows with these billionaires," Harry Lipschitz grumbled. "But he wants assurances from this department in particular that the Archer investigation won't taint his philanthropical associations."

"Come again?" The last twenty-four hours had not been easy and Chris wasn't in the mood to placate a whiney billionaire.

"The commissioner says Warren would like Sergeant Lance to drop by the mansion to discuss the situation."

"Ha! I'll bet he would," Chris muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Is there something you haven't told me about your interview with Cade Warren?" Rita grinned, sat back in her chair, and crossed her legs.

Chris pretended to not notice the legs. "The manager of the country club told Warren you were a real looker so he was disappointed to see me instead of you."

"Did he hurt your feelings? You forgot to mention that yesterday."

"Yeah, well, there was a lot going on yesterday."

"To say the least."

It was a sobering thought that wiped the smile from both their faces.

Harry interrupted. "Dinner didn't go well?"

"A real fiasco," Chris cracked back.

"Aha…"

"But not in the way you're thinking."

Hands on his hips, Harry glanced at Chris over the top of his glasses. "I don't get it."

"Well, it started off as you would expect."

"Lance?" He turned his attention to the other half of his team. "Can you decipher for me?"

She stood, pen and notebook in hand, and gestured toward his office. "Can we do this privately?"

"Of course. I'm intrigued."

Chris followed them into the Captain's office, closing the door behind him. They took their seats as the Captain slipped out of his jacket and hung it on a nearby coat rack.

"Okay, I'm listening." Harry looked to Rita for what he assumed would be a quick rundown. His expression swiftly changed to concern as she summarized the tension over dinner, then went into detail on Anna's stalking situation. "What can I do to help?"

"We went to Anna's hotel last night," Rita explained, "and they don't have a William, Bill, or Billy Smith currently registered there. The clerk at the front desk remembers an older man coming in and asking about Anna, but they didn't release any information or confirm her stay there. The man spent about an hour in the hotel bar nursing a couple of shots of expensive whiskey, paid cash, and then left. No conversation, no receipts."

"Did you contact LAPD or Beverly Hills PD?"

"Both," Chris assured him. "We're waiting for the case detectives to call us back. Time zone issues."

"You've been at this a while already today."

Rita nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, Cap. We came in early so it wouldn't interfere with the Archer case."

"Okay. I'll go placate Mr. Warren myself. No babe for him today. He'll just have to deal with the disappointment. Once you two are done with Warren's videographer, concentrate on Chris' mother. I'll talk to the commissioner about the situation myself, but I'm okaying the use of department resources right now if you should need them."

"I've asked my parents to come in around eleven if that works for you. We'd like your input on how best to move forward with this."

"Solid plan. We'll meet in my office."

"Thanks, Cap."

...

On the other side of town…

Benny Lorenzo was toweling off after a hot shower and eyeing the monogrammed white bathrobe provided by the resort with disdain when the bedside telephone rang. He answered it quickly, not wanting to disturb Anna in the other bedroom.

A representative from the limo service he had used the night before was on the line to confirm their mid-morning pickup in front of the hotel. Benny offered an impatient confirmation and hung up, putting the matter out of his mind.

All remained quiet in Anna's room so he donned the white robe and headed for the living room. He had a few phone calls to make and he did not want her to overhear. His quick turnaround trip to Palm Beach from Philadelphia had taken an unexpected turn and he was not about to leave Palm Beach until the situation with Anna's stalker was resolved. His executive assistant would have to free up his schedule for an indefinite number of days, their luggage had to be retrieved, and he wanted to check in with Chris. There had been talk last night about opening an investigation with the Palm Beach PD.

As soon as those phone calls were finished, Benny dialed Room Service, placing a breakfast order for two. Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. The server's cheerful greeting was met with a curt nod and silence as Benny eyed the man suspiciously. Once their meal was laid out on the small dining table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, he signed the bill and held the door open so the cart and server could return to the hallway. Satisfied at last, Benny poured himself a cup of coffee and settled in with that day's copy of the New York Times. According to the close business contact who had arranged their last-minute hotel switch last night, this suite was available all week. The security was tighter than at the Hilton or Anna's original hotel and guest records would not include either of their names. Anna did not know it yet, but they would be staying right here as long as necessary.

A short time later, he heard movement in the other room. She was up. The thought made him smile – and then just as quickly frown. Annoyance was his usual reaction to the ex, he had joked about it often enough, but it was not annoyance he was feeling at the moment. If he did not know better, he would think it was protectiveness. Was that even possible? Protectiveness was something he had not felt toward any woman in a very long time.

Something about her still got to him though and that was just one of many reasons he had been avoiding her at all costs for decades. New Year's Eve had been the exception. Her ability to wound him had never lessened no matter how much he denied it.

"Benny?"

....

Anna had wanted to thank Benny for his kindness in the car last night, but having a civil conversation with the man was something she no longer knew how to do, so she had remained silent instead.

Sitting across from him now, she could not help but notice how the morning sunlight pouring in from the suite's windows added warmth and intimacy to their little breakfast table. It was a Lighting Director's dream scenario and oddly surreal. Even stranger was the realization that after all this time, it was still hard to take her eyes off the man who had so briefly been the love of her life. The white bathrobe he was wearing did nothing to diminish his aura of strength and old-world protectiveness. His thick, dark hair was peppered with gray, but he was still attractive - maybe more so now than when he was younger. That was reason enough to never again be in the same city or state with him.

Thankfully, Benny did not seem to notice her staring. He was lost in his thoughts, pretending to read the Finance section of the New York Times without ever turning a page. Her request to breakfast on the balcony had been overruled, it was not safe he had declared, but their view of the Atlantic through the large windows was magnificent all the same. Benny was either disinterested or had not noticed.

Was he annoyed at having to spend time with her? It was hard to tell. His decision to change hotels en route to the Hilton had been a surprise. As were the bouquet of flowers and bottle of expensive champagne that awaited their arrival at The Four Seasons. Such extravagance had only been dreamed of in their one-bedroom North Hollywood apartment. It was all too easy to recall those early passion-filled days of their marriage. As a young woman, she had fallen hard and fast into what she had thought was true love. How naïve they had been to believe in happily ever after.

She had to stop dwelling on the past. This happened every time she ran into Benny, and it was pointless. "You asked me why last night."

Benny glanced up, his dark eyes pinning her to her chair across the table. "Why?"

Any doubts regarding the physical attraction between them disappeared. It was as strong as it had ever been as far as she was concerned. But it was too late for that. They had purposely hurt each other far too often for forgiveness to exist. He was waiting impatiently…she had to answer.

"You asked why Bill Smith would show up again after all these years. You asked about his motive."

"You said you hadn't talked to him in decades."

"I did say that."

"Was it the truth?"

She took offense at his suspicious tone.

"It is the truth, but I should have suggested Chris and Rita speak with my manager. He has all the letters in his possession."

"But you already know the answer, don't you?"

Anna tightened the belt of the bathrobe she was wearing, wishing she had chosen to put last night's outfit back on instead.

"I can see right through you – always could," Benny said.

It was true, he could see through most people, and that was part of what made him an excellent attorney. She never doubted he would make a name for himself one day and have his own firm.

"He thinks he's in love with me," she explained quietly. "He claims to have fallen in love with me on the day we met at Maxim Studios."

"The day he tried to assault you?"

"Yes. I refuse to read the letters, but from what I understand, Mr. Smith believes I've been in love with all this time also."

"He doesn't blame you for getting him fired?" Benny was leaning across the table now, searching her expression.

She lowered her gaze, afraid to reveal personal feelings that had nothing to do with Bill Smith, but ended up staring at the bare chest visible above Benny's robe, so she left the table to stand at the window and stare at the ocean instead. The ceaseless motion of the waves helped her refocus on the trouble she was in. "Have you talked to Chris this morning?"

"Just briefly. A car will be here at ten-thirty to take us to the precinct. We are going to sit down with Chris, Rita, and their captain at eleven to see what can be done to get this guy off the street."

"I'll need my luggage."

"Of course."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"I noticed that, Angel."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't seem appropriate anymore."

"Since when have I worried about what's appropriate?"

"Good point." Anna smiled, but her gaze remained on the tumultuous waters of the Atlantic. "That was always part of your charm."

Benny remained quiet.

"I must look a mess," she said aloud and then instantly regretted it. It was too easy to fall back into old habits and mindless chatter. It was the downside of her occupation. She ran a hand through her hair and grimaced at her reflection in the wall of glass. Her makeup had been removed the night before with hotel soap. Her skin felt tight and dry without her suitcase of creams and potions to keep the years at bay.

...

THE LIMO was parked at the front entrance of the hotel as promised when Benny and Anna emerged from the stylish lobby. The hotel valet rushed to open the rear door of the sleek black sedan.

"You have the address of the police department?" Benny asked through the half-opened partition between the driver and the back seat.

"Yes, sir," the driver responded, touching a finger to the brim of his hat, signaling his understanding. "Straight there, no stops, as you requested."

"Good then." Benny waited for the privacy glass to be raised, and then turned his attention back to Anna. "Chris and Rita will handle this quickly."

"I know."

The vulnerability that he had sensed in her demeanor last night had lessened, but enough of it remained to keep him confused about his own emotions. It was an unsettling state of being for someone who prided himself on being in control of every situation. But if decades in a courtroom had taught him anything, it was how to prioritize and tackle problems in order of importance.

To that end, Benny remained vigilant, his gaze on the passing scenery. Were they being followed? There was so much traffic this time of day, it was impossible to tell.

After fifteen minutes or so, he realized they were approaching a bridge. Benny knew just enough about the small city of Palm Beach, to know that the driver had veered off course. They were crossing to the mainland. He moved to the rear-facing seat and rapped on the partition, but there was no response. Anna was watching him curiously. He returned to her side.

"What's happening?"

"I'm not sure, Angel," Benny hedged. He tested the door handle. It was locked. The limo blew through the next stop sign, disregarding all other traffic, so jumping out at the next one was not a viable plan. "My guess is we're being taken out of Palm Beach."

"Why would he do that?" Her eyes widened in fear as realization dawned.

Benny did not need her flipping into panic mode right now.

"Stay calm," he cautioned gently. "I will not let this son of a bitch near you. You can take that promise to the bank."

"Chris is expecting us. He won't know what's happened."

Benny checked the limo phone. The cord had been cut. He patted his jacket pockets and muttered a curse. The work phone he usually carried was back at the hotel inside his briefcase.

"Don't do anything rash," she begged, grabbing his hand.

Doing something rash might be the only way to get them out of this situation. She had to know that. Locking eyes with her now, the silent communication between them was the most honest conversation they'd had in decades, but he had to cut it short. Reality was a cruel companion in this drama. He let go of her hand and returned to the rear-facing seat.

When he knocked on the partition this time, it was lowered a quarter of the way.

"Where are you taking us?" Anna demanded of the driver before Benny could say anything.

"I wasn't going to say anything yet, my love, but since you asked so nicely…"

Benny bristled at the familiarity with which Anna's stalker spoke to her. The man was delusional.

"We're headed to a private airstrip just outside the city."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Anna immediately shot back.

Benny had hoped to keep the conversation between the driver and himself but Anna was making that difficult. "Listen, buddy," he tried to reason, "stop this car right now, let us out, and we'll forget all about this crazy stunt."

"You don't get it," the driver snarled, whipping off his hat as he turned to stare boldly into the passenger area. Dark eyes slid past Benny to search for Anna and it was obvious the second he found her.

"What don't we get?" Benny asked, trying to draw Smith's attention back on himself. He could not see enough of the man's face to identify him later in a lineup, but the instability and obsession in his gaze made clear his intentions.

Their vehicle drifted to the right, the passenger side tires spinning on the gravel shoulder of the road. The driver turned back to gain control of the car but continued talking to Anna as if he were sitting at a table enjoying a cup of coffee with her.

"Bill Smith," she mouthed silently.

"You must know that I would never hurt you, Anna. It took me a lot longer than I expected to prepare for our life together, but this was always our destiny. We've both had to be patient. I stayed in a loveless marriage for thirty years just so I could offer you the future you deserve. You have no idea how miserable I've been."

Mr. Casting Couch was beyond delusional and sliding quickly into crazy.

"Admit it, Anna," he continued. "Your marriage to Lorenzo never stood a chance because you were still in love with me. I saw every movie you made a dozen times. Your coded messages to me were received with an open heart. I wrote to you in response and I called, but dark forces were keeping us apart. The only way I could get through to you was to build a fortune. With enough money, anything is possible."

Undeniably crazy, Benny concluded, and crazy was unpredictable. He had seen enough examples in the courtroom. Smith was talking as if Anna had no personal autonomy. Benny locked eyes with her.

"You're so quiet," Bill said, attempting to draw her out. "I'm sorry our reunion had to play out like this, but it couldn't be helped. You are everything to me. From day one, we both knew it was love. Anna?"

"I was a child when we met!" Anna pointed out, unable to stay silent any longer.

"You were a woman!" Bill corrected. "A beautiful woman filled with youthful passion."

Benny touched a finger to his lips, encouraging Anna to not respond.

"Hey, genius!" Benny called to Bill, keeping his eyes on his ex. "What exactly do you plan on doing with us?"

Bill was annoyed at the interruption. He turned, briefly, taking his eyes off the road again, which heightened Benny's stress.

"I can get rid of him for you, love," Bill said, speaking directly to Anna again. "I know how much you hate him. I know how badly he treated you."

"What the hell?" Benny growled.

"I don't hate him," Anna called out.

Her blue eyes had narrowed with what could be confusion or pain. Benny wasn't sure, but he silently vowed to protect her at all costs.

"He was never there for you when you needed him."

"How do you know that?" Anna demanded.

"I know," Smith bragged as if trying to impress her. "Believe me, I know all about the suffering you went through. I admit to being upset when I first heard you got married, I was hoping you would wait for me, but then I realized it was just a temporary obstacle. You were doing the same thing I was – finding a way to get by until we could be together again."

Benny had heard enough and was ready to pull the old geezer right through the narrow opening if only he could get a good grip on him. His move was thwarted by Billy who had been keeping an eye on them in the rear-view mirror and easily read his intention. The partition was immediately raised higher, leaving it open only an inch now.

Frustrated, Benny lashed out angrily. "Were you watching her back then? She rejected you once after you tried to assault her - can't you take a hint?"

"I wasn't just watching her back then," Bill growled back. "Once she got married, I was watching YOU!"

"What are you taking about?" Benny kept his voice calm and low, not wanting to upset Anna even further as his mind struggled to connect the pieces.

"Don't you remember me?"

"I don't go out of my way to remember nut jobs. You look pretty forgettable to me."

"You didn't think that back in the early days of your career. I'm the guy who put you on the fast track."

"I built my own career, you jackass. Who the hell are you to claim credit?"

"Does Wharston, Lewis, and Bates ring a bell? You were young and green, too rough around the edges, but I told my father-in-law you were a rising star, the man we needed for our top-tier clients. He believed that drivel. Stupid man."

Bill pulled to the side of the road, but he didn't step out. He immediately turned back to look at Benny.

Benny was stunned. "You're that William Smith? I remember you now. You're Robert Wharston's simpering son-in-law."

"Yes… I was his son-in-law and I specifically asked the old man for scheduling power over all new associate attorneys. He was surprised I had an interest in such lowly duties, but I made up an excuse about wanting to develop young talent for the betterment of the firm. The old man bought that pile of lies and I was able to keep you working late nights. It was my idea to send you all over the country to assist on cases for the firm."

"I needed him at home back then," Anna said. "Why would you do that? We were a family. We had a small child."

"Your so-called husband at the time made his priorities clear. He could have said no at any time."

Benny listened to their arguing; his mind ablaze at the revelations. They had been played, their happiness and future unknowingly controlled by a stranger. How had he fallen so easily for this man's manipulations? The emotions involved were interfering with his critical thinking. He had to pull himself together.

"What gave you the right to interfere in our lives?" Benny's all-important question was asked in an ominously low voice. A voice that opposing attorneys in his local district court knew and feared.

Anna's voice was shrill. "What kind of monster are you?"

Bill was quick to respond, enjoying the revelatory phase of what he considered a brilliant plan. "You never refused an opportunity to spend more time at work than at home, Lorenzo. That was when I knew with certainty that you did not deserve her. I would never have abandoned Anna the way you did."

"I was trying to support my family."

"You didn't deserve her," Bill restated smugly.

"Maybe not," Benny said quietly, "but I loved her."

"I thought you wanted to get away."

Anna's words landed deeply and painfully in his chest. "Why would you think that?"

"After Chris was born, you never had time for us. You missed birthdays, anniversaries, milestone events…"

"After Chris was born, I felt an even greater responsibility to succeed. Maybe I went about it wrong, but I was young and ambitious. I jumped at every opportunity to secure our future. I thought I was doing it for all our sakes."

"We needed you more than the money. My career was taking off at the same time and I couldn't risk turning down the work. We both know who lost out and I'm not sure he'll ever forgive us."

Bill Smith, apparently tired of listening to them air out their personal issues, stepped out of the limo.

That put an immediate stop to all conversation in the vehicle. There was an unmistakable desperate quality about Bill Smith that Benny knew they could not ignore. The man was beyond obsessed – his plan to have Anna all to himself had been brewing for decades and he was at a breaking point. It was all or nothing right here, right now, and he might be willing to kill for the prize.

Dealing with how their lives had been manipulated by Smith was a luxury to be indulged in once they were safely away from the man and he was safely tucked away in prison or dead. Benny had his preferences, but respect for the legal system meant he would accept either outcome.

Unfortunately, given the current circumstances, which included demands for him to step out of the limousine, Benny knew the situation would go one way or the other in the next few minutes. If something happened to him, Anna's fate would be sealed. Within hours, she might be offshore, held somewhere against her will. Somewhere Chris and Rita might not be able to find her.

He heard Anna's sharp intake of breath. "He has a gun."

Benny glanced out the window. "Looks more like a pea shooter."

"This isn't funny, Benny."

"I know. Just trying to lighten things up."

"If you do what he says and go out there, he's going to kill you. He wants you out of the way."

"I realize that." Benny smiled unexpectedly, which confused her. "Isn't it interesting that he still considers me a threat to his relationship with you?"

"GET OUT OF THE CAR, LORENZO!"

Anna cringed and moved to the rear-facing seat, placing herself between Benny and the man shouting just outside the door. No matter how hard Benny tried to move her back to safety across from him, she would not budge. She threw her arms around his neck instead.

"Bit over dramatic, Angel."

"I don't think so," she whispered in his ear, "and I'm a professional actress, so I believe I'm a better judge."

"But this is real life."

"It can't be. Chris and Rita are getting married. As parents of the groom, we have a wedding to attend. And who knows, we might be grandparents one day."

"Now I know we're in real trouble. Grandma Anna?"

"Get out of the car!" Bill demanded once again but in a suspiciously calmer voice. "I don't plan to use this," he continued as he waved the small gun around. He appeared oblivious to the occasional car that passed them on the isolated two-lane road.

"I believe he just perjured himself, Doll." Benny was hesitant to let go of Anna, but desperate to get her out of range of the gun. "Please move back to the other seat."

"No."

"Anna can sit in the front seat next to me," Bill suggested, peering into the heavily tinted window to see what they were up to. "Our private plane leaves in half an hour, Anna, so we'll have to leave your ex here on the side of the road. Someone will eventually find him."

"We need to end this," Benny stated quietly. "Once he realizes he can unlock all the doors from the front, I plan to rush him. I want you to lie down on the floor back here and wait for help. Whatever happens out there, do not move a muscle until you're sure it's safe."

"No!"

Bill opened the driver's door and was fiddling with the controls. After several attempts, the doors unlocked. He moved to the back passenger door and grabbed the handle.

The sound of engines revving hot in the distance grew louder. All three participants in the drama glanced toward the noise. Bill shoved the pistol into his pocket and tried to look normal as a car approached and slowed down.

The dark blue sedan stopped and a young man shouted out the open passenger window. "Do you need assistance, sir?"

"No," Bill answered gruffly. "I've already called it in."

"Can I offer your passengers a ride somewhere?"

"Mind your own business!"

"Just trying to help."

"I don't need your kind of help!"

"Sorry."

...

A black Jeep approached from the opposite direction and pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road directly in front of the limousine.

The occupants, a man, and a woman, stepped out quickly with weapons drawn.

"What's going on here Detective Simmons?"

"Just offering to help a stranded motorist, Sergeant Lance."

"I see." Rita kept her eyes and her weapon trained on Bill Smith. "Sergeant Lorenzo is going to check you for weapons, Mr. Smith. Keep your hands away from your pockets and everything will be fine."

"How do you know my name?" Bill Smith appeared shocked as Chris moved into position behind him. "Wait…Lorenzo?"

"Yes, Mr. Smith," Chris stated tersely as he handcuffed the older man, searched his pockets, and took possession of the small gun. "I believe you're acquainted with my mother."

"You both okay, Pop?" Chris called out over his shoulder. He tightened the handcuffs ever so slightly. "Mother?"

"We're fine."

"Anna!" Bill Smith was desperately trying to look over his shoulder to see the woman he claimed was his destiny.

Chris muscled the older man into a position where he could no longer maneuver himself in that direction. He pushed him toward the detective who had been in the unmarked vehicle tailing the limousine. "You've got this guy, Simmons?"

"Got him, Sergeant Lorenzo."

"Wait! Anna!" Smith's voice had taken on a pleading quality, but his pleas were ignored.

Detective Simmons took him by the arm and placed him in the back seat of his unmarked car, blocking his view of the limo as he read him his rights. Once a pair of black and white units arrived with lights flashing, Smith was transferred to one of them and taken away to be booked. Simmons offered to wait on the scene with the remaining uniformed officer until the crime scene unit arrived.

As soon as Bill Smith had been handcuffed, Benny had thrown open the rear passenger side door of the limo, but he kept Anna inside the vehicle with him even when Rita approached to check on them. Once the black and white with Bill inside left the scene, he stepped out, offering Anna a hand, keeping her close after she emerged. She appeared shaken but had shown an impressive amount of strength while under duress. Anna Alexis was no wilting flower. He did not let her out of his arms until Chris rushed over.

Their reunion involved a mad jumble of questions and answers from all sides.

"How did you find us?" Benny wanted to know.

Chris kept an arm around his mother. "We've had a tail on the limo since it left the Four Seasons. Just in case."

"Smart thinking," Benny complimented with a half grin, as if it was all he could muster. His attention moved to the horizon. "The road we're on would have taken Anna further and further inland to whichever airstrip he was going to use."

Anna watched him, but he wouldn't look in her direction. Everyone needed time to process.

A noise drew their attention upward. A local news station helicopter was circling overhead. Chris suggested they all get into the Jeep and head to the precinct to debrief.

...

There were a multitude of reasons why the Police Commissioner had given Captain Harry Lipschitz and his Homicide Division the authority to work the Anna Alexis stalker investigation. Not the least of which was the fact that he had danced with the actress several times at the PBPD's New Year's Eve party several months earlier and remained smitten by her charm.

The scheduled midmorning meeting in the Captain's office to discuss how to handle the Smith situation had become a noon meeting to debrief on all that had just happened. William Smith had not wasted any time putting his plans into action.

Chris continued to pace back and forth. His parents were sitting facing the Captain. He was trying to burn off the last remnants of a recent adrenaline rush. Rita remained in front of the closed office door, a calm sentinel helping to ground his thoughts in the present instead of what his parents had just been through. His parents were…well, unreadable at the moment. "You found all this out in the last hour, Cap?"

The Captain had just explained how Smith ended up behind the wheel of the limousine. He had hired the car service for an early morning airport run, asking the driver to pick him up at a quiet side entrance of the hotel. He managed to overpower the driver at some point, leaving him bound and gagged at the edge of the parking lot. The driver was found by the maintenance crew less than an hour ago and is currently being interviewed."

Benny was staring at the Captain, angrier than Chris had ever seen him. "How has Smith managed to be one step ahead of us this entire time?"

The Captain wasn't taking the hard looks personally. "He has had a private detective on retainer in Los Angeles ever since his wife died six months ago. LAPD has already picked up the P.I. for questioning this morning and learned that Smith gave him the license plate of your limo last night. He accessed the car service records and that's how he knew where you were staying even though you had switched hotels en route.

"LAPD feels Smith started actively planning to kidnap Anna right after his wife's death. The private detective has been tracking her ever since and was able to give Smith Anna's itinerary before she boarded her flight to Palm Beach.

"As for Smith, he's currently in Interrogation Room 2 with Simmons. He claims every action he took was justified. He was doing this for Anna as much as he was doing it for himself. He had a chartered plane ready to fly them both to a small private island in the Keys. He prepaid a year's rent on the only guest house there."

Anna shivered and leaned into Benny who tightened his arm around her.

"Unbelievable," Rita muttered.

Benny remained quiet as the Captain continued to talk about all they were learning. Sensing Chris' stare, he looked up and met his son's eyes. Chris found it impossible to decipher his mood. "Do you have any questions, Pop?"

Benny turned to the Captain instead. "You're saying it was Smith that I talked to on the phone this morning?"

"Yes. Smith's private detective in LA managed

"I'd like to talk to Mr. Smith again."

"No," Chris was quick to deny the request. "You know that's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, son."

"This is," Chris assured him.

"Mr. Lorenzo…"

Benny threw Rita a teasing look but with only a fraction of the usual charisma.

"Benny," Rita tried again. "You both need to be interviewed, but separately, about everything that happened in the car."

Chris watched in surprise as his mother grasped his father's hand and his father returned the squeeze. What was going on here? It was a question he had asked himself far too many times for comfort in the last forty-eight hours.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet," Benny responded.

"What do you mean by that?" Chris immediately jumped in.

"Chris and I will not be conducting the interviews if that's what you're worried about," Rita assured him. "We're too close to this situation. A couple of our colleagues will be asking you for details of what happened once you left the hotel. These questions need to be asked to make a case against William Smith."

"It's not a matter of being uncomfortable," Anna explained quietly. "It's just a lot to deal with."

"What exactly happened in that car?" Chris asked.

The Captain decided it was time to step in. "Mr. Lorenzo, out of respect for your son and to guarantee privacy for you and Ms. Alexis, I'll conduct the interviews right here in my office."

"Call me, Benny."

"Right now, you're Mr. Lorenzo, and we need the facts for this case. Chris… find out who the on-duty Crime Victim's Advocate representative is and ask them to take your mother downstairs for a cup of coffee. Once your father and I are done, I'll have her brought back up for her interview."

"But, Cap…"

"This is the way it has to be. As Rita explained, the two of you are too close to the case and would never be allowed to handle the interview even if I were inclined to say yes. Your mother can sit with you in Homicide until the CVA Rep arrives. No talking about the case, no badgering her for information. Got it?"

Anna rose from her chair and offered a polite smile, ready to follow Chris out of the office.

Benny rose to his feet at the same time, which did not surprise Chris, but the protective hand his father placed on his mother's lower back certainly did. He seemed reluctant to see her leave. Something had changed and Chris was feeling left out. These were his parents. His family. If anyone was entitled to the full story, it was him.

"What would you like me to do, Cap?" Rita asked.

"Why don't you join Simmons and see if he needs any help with the interrogation."

"Got it." Rita shot her partner an apologetic look and headed out the door.

Chris was not upset about that turn of events. If Smith was still in the interrogation room, there was no one better than his partner at wringing every last fact out of a suspect.

"Mother? Shall we?" The Captain was right about one thing. His mother needed time to decompress and relax after the harrowing experience she had just been through. It didn't take long to locate the CVA Representative. With Rita gone to work with Simmons and his mother on her way downstairs, he was momentarily at a loss for what to do. Oh sure, there was a murder to solve, but the two most important male figures in his life were having a conversation and he was excluded. It was hard to imagine two such strong, yet diverse, personalities across a desk from each other. They were as different as night and day.

...

Later that evening, when Chris and Rita returned to the same restaurant they had been to twenty-four hours earlier, they did not immediately see his parents, but the long black car in the parking lot meant they were in there somewhere.

Chris checked with the hostess who pointed him in the direction of the bar. Richly appointed with highly polished wood tables, brass accents, and burgundy leather furniture, a lone bartender worked in front of a mirrored wall with shelves of expensive bottles.

There were only a few patrons scattered around the room. They found Benny and Anna sitting in a booth, heads close together as they talked quietly.

"Our table is ready," Chris announced, purposely interrupting whatever was going on. A lot had happened in the last few days, but old habits were hard to break, and he was still on edge whenever the two of them were together in a room.

He needn't have worried.

His parents had questions, of course, hoping for any details that had been learned during William Smith's interrogation. Rita was able to give them a condensed summary of Smith's life which included his marriage into the Wharston family. Smith had been trapped, by choice, for decades in a loveless, childless marriage, waiting for his father-in-law to die. What he hadn't counted on once his father-in-law was gone was his wife's tight-fisted control of her inheritance and her lack of trust in him. He spent another miserable decade working at the law firm under her management. When she died six months earlier, he began laying the groundwork for his future with Anna.

After updating the couple on where Smith had been taken after his arrest, and where he would be sent if bail was denied the next morning, the discussion turned back to more personal territory.

"We still need to talk about the wedding," Chris reminded his parents. "I know a lot has happened but we still don't have your assurances."

"We'll both be there," Benny assured his son. "With bells on."

The fact that his father's eyes held a familiar teasing glint was not reassuring to Chris.

"We'll behave," Benny continued, smiling at Anna. "Right, doll?"

"Of course, Benny." Anna agreed.

"We're back to Benny?" The exaggerated regret in Benny's voice had Anna blushing and the other couple looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"We've been through this before," Chris chided. "The last truce was short-lived, to say the least."

"Yes, it was," Anna responded, giving Chris her full attention. "But everything is different now and we have an opportunity to spend some quality time together. We're taking it slow. We were always great in the bedroom. Now we have to figure out how to get along everywhere else."

"I don't need this level of detail," Chris muttered.

Anna ignored the comment and turned to Rita. "I know I asked you this once before, but I'm serious, Rita. Do you need any help with the wedding arrangements? I truly do have excellent connections."

Benny cleared his throat and eyed his ex-wife.

Rita smiled affectionately. "I think we're good, Anna. All you need to do is show up."

"I'm not interfering," Anna assured Benny. "I am simply offering Rita my help if she needs it. The two of them have busy jobs and I happen to be in between projects at the moment."

"In that case, my offer is still out there, Chris. I'd be happy to take charge of the bachelor party – I, too, have excellent connections," he teased with a wink.

Anna cuffed him on the arm, drawing his direct gaze. "Beniamino," she whispered, we promised to stay out of it."

Benny continued smiling into her eyes. "We did. So…how about we let the kids get out of here and we head back to the bar for a drink. I like the sounds coming out of there. Is sherry still your after-dinner preference or has your taste in digestifs changed as much as your income?"

The sarcastic comeback Chris was expecting from Anna never came. She was blushing again instead, rising from her chair to link arms with Benny.

"Sherry is just fine."

"Rita and I can drop you at your hotel," Chris offered.

"Not necessary, Christopher. We've decided to keep the suite at the Four Seasons for the rest of the week. And your father is right about the music in the bar. It sounds worth exploring. You and Rita should head home. We'll be fine."

"Did I mention I've been contemplating retirement?"

Anna appeared to have forgotten the younger couple as she gave Benny her undivided attention. "I've been doing the same."

"I'm tired of courtrooms," he explained. "I'm always rushing around trying to put out fires for clients with more money than common sense…"

"I'm tired of searching for projects that don't involve casting me as the grandmother or chatelaine…"

"Chata-what?"

"The always-past-her-prime woman of the castle in romance novels."

"That's an insult! You're decades too young for that type of role!"

Anna, although flustered, glowed under the compliment. "We're all getting older. You, yourself, just mentioned retirement."

"My retirement plans don't involve sitting around in a rocking chair. I plan to travel the world and see what I've been missing."

"I've been all over the world and even that gets boring."

"Not if you're with the right person, Angel. Although I have given some thought to relocating to the East Coast. Maybe Palm Beach."

"You can't afford Palm Beach."

"You don't think so?" he teased.

"Even if you can, I can't see you living anywhere but Philadelphia or the West Coast."

"The kids are here. They're getting married. Maybe I'm interested in seeing how it all works out."

"We aren't exactly kids," Chris grumbled as the pair started toward the bar. "You don't need to keep an eye on us," he added a little louder.

Rita took hold of his arm and led him to the entrance. "Let's go."

"I don't like the direction their conversation is going."

"Let's stay out of their business and hopefully they'll stay out of ours."

"But…"

"Knowing what we know now about how their lives were manipulated in the past, they have a lot to talk about."

...

Back at Rita's place, Chris checked the lock on the front door. Rita had already started up the stairs to the bedroom.

"I'm not convinced," he called out.

"You saw the two of them together tonight. I think this is a new beginning for them."

"You are a romantic at heart, Sam, but they are still oil and water. The two do not mix well."

"It might last this time. Their past has been rewritten. The truth of their relationship has been altered. We'll have to just wait and see if they can make up for lost time."

He followed her upstairs, pausing in the bedroom doorway. "Let me revise the analogy. Those two are more like fire and gasoline."

"Is that a real saying?"

"It is. Think about it… apart they're strong, but combined everything is wild and uncontrollable."

"Doesn't sound bad so far."

Chris crossed to the opposite side of the bed to help turn down the comforter. "Yeah, well, they don't exactly complement each other. Fire and gasoline eventually burn out."

"It's out of our hands from here, Christopher, but I do think we've guaranteed their good behavior at the wedding. It means a lot to me that they'll be with us that day."

Rita's relaxed smile and calm words worked their magic as usual. He felt the tension of the last few days slipping away.

"You never fail to surprise me."

"Because I care about your parents?"

"Because you care about everyone."

"Especially you."

"Especially me." Chris opened his arms as she came around and stepped into them. "Something profound occurred to me tonight in the restaurant."

"Uh oh. Profound, you say?"

"Yes, Ms. Rita Lee Lance, soon to be Lorenzo. You are the best example I know of someone refusing to let their past define them. Nothing stops you."

"All any of us truly have is right now, this moment," she murmured. "And this moment seems pretty perfect to me."

"I was just thinking the same thing," he whispered roughly. His mouth skimmed lightly over her throat, pausing to nip at a delicate ear lobe.

"Only one thing missing."

"What would that be?"

"I've been wanting to do this all day, Sergeant Lorenzo." Her hands flattened against his dress shirt, open palms sliding under his jacket to the firm sculpted muscles of his back.

The heat in his eyes flared at her touch. He bent to capture her lips. She opened her mouth and he wasted no time, deepening the kiss, losing himself in her sweetness. His hands found the buttons of her blouse and he began undoing them, exposing the bare skin at her waist to his touch. She moaned and he pulled her up, more fully against his chest as his back and shoulders came into contact with the wall. The passion between them was explosive, electric, and familiar in its promise.

"Chris…" There was an urgency in her plea that spoke directly to his soul. Her blouse slid off her shoulders, falling silently to the floor.

Hunger drove Chris as he tasted her lips, her throat, and that special little place behind her left ear. His open palm slid over a satiny smooth shoulder. When they finally broke apart, he kept Rita within the circle of his arms. She was watching him, her green eyes filled with the same intense mixture of love and desire that was coursing through his veins. He gently stroked her upturned chin. Tempting as it was to tumble her immediately into bed, there was something he had to tell her first. He needed her to understand. He did not want anything left unsaid between them.

"Nothing is more important to me than you - now and in the future," he said softly. "We won't let anything or anyone ever come between us."

"Nothing will ever come between us," she echoed with confidence.

And he believed her. His fiancée was a woman of substance, a survivor, her very essence forged in the fire of a difficult childhood, but she never lost her faith in humanity or the existence of love.

Chris' body tightened with need as she began to unbutton his dress shirt, starting at the top, pressing her lips to every inch of skin as it was unveiled. Once his jacket and shirt were out of the way, her open palms traveled lovingly over his bare chest and shoulders. His stomach muscles tightened.

There was a time for words and there was a time for action.

...

It was several hours later when Rita relinquished her comfortable spot splayed across her fiancé's fine form. Barefoot, she quietly crossed to the bedroom closet and grabbed her floral silk wrap before heading downstairs. It was the middle of the night and she should still be asleep, but her mind was not cooperating. It refused to shut off.

In the kitchen, she started preparations for a cup of chamomile tea. What a crazy forty-eight hours it had been and they still had the Archer case to solve. Naturally, that case had taken a back seat to the more pressing problem of Anna's stalker, but the speedy resolve of that situation, thanks to Bill Smith's impatience, meant they hadn't lost much time. The Captain had offered to assign extra manpower if necessary.

It wasn't the Archer case that was keeping her up.

She heard Chris moving around the apartment just seconds before he joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His warm breath fanned her cheek, his stubble sent pinpricks of pleasure down her spine as he nuzzled her neck.

"He'd better not move here," Chris muttered sleepily. "Can you imagine?"

Her eyebrows shot up. Those were not the romantic words of love she was expecting.

"I love you, too."

"Sorry, Sam." Chris yawned, scrubbing his hands over his face before running them through his hair. "I can't get them out of my head."

"Wasn't it just a few hours ago that we discussed living in the now?"

"Yeah, but I meant us, not them."

"Is that why you're awake?" Rita asked.

"No. I must have sensed you were gone," he admitted. "What's bothering you?"

"We only have two months before the wedding."

He shot her a heavy-lidded, questioning look. "So? Things are going well. You accomplished the impossible – you brought my parents together."

"But I still need to speak with Cap."

"Oh."

"Right. Is it weird that I want to ask this of him?"

"Not at all."

"What do you think he'll say?"

"There is no doubt what he will say. You are torturing yourself for no reason."

"I know! It makes no sense. Yesterday I was teasing you about having only two months left to do everything that needs to be done. An hour ago, I woke up and my first thought was - We only have two months left!"

Chris chuckled and pressed his lips to her forehead. He turned the heat off under the kettle and took hold of her hand. "Forget the tea. I have a better way to distract you."

"I need to talk to Cap."

"Well, it's 3 a.m, he's not available. You can take care of it later today and check it off your list. I would be shocked if he said anything other than yes."

"I don't think I can fall back asleep."

"You will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"All it takes is a little Lorenzo magic."

"Magic, you say?"

"Yes."

"You've piqued my interest."

"I had a feeling."

"You're sure about this?"

"It's all in the hands."

"Oh!"

"Yes, Ma'am."

...

At the precinct later that morning, the Captain was standing next to Chris and Rita's desks as he discussed the formal arrest of William Smith. LAPD and Beverly Hills PD had reached out the previous day, their captains contacting Captain Lipschitz directly before faxing over paperwork on the complaints Anna had filed. Any concerns or assumptions regarding contact from the Homicide Division of the PBPD were quickly put to rest when Chris' connection to the victims was explained.

"We don't normally handle stalking cases until the worst-case scenario has already happened," he had enjoyed pointing out. "Glad we were ahead of the game this time."

Palm Beach PD would be adding the information Smith had given directly to Anna and Benny in the limo to the information from the West Coast to create a comprehensive history of William Smith's actions over the past three decades before turning it over to the DA's office.

"You realize of course that if your parents had had better communication skills or enough trust in each other from the beginning, they probably would have figured out what was happening before outside forces broke them up. It's the opposite of narcissism to consider your partner ahead of yourself."

"I think that's pretty obvious even to them at this point, Cap," Chris had to agree. "Their marriage was interfered with at a crucial time by Smith, but if they could have stepped outside their individual ambitions and given their relationship as much attention as they gave their careers, it might have worked."

"I'm glad you picked up on that lesson."

Chris gave his boss a puzzled look. "Why do you say that, Cap? Work is important to us, we're dedicated to the job, but we've already proven our relationship comes first. I have no intention of turning into my father."

Rita had to smile. Chris was still touchy when it came to the subject of his parents.

"I don't think he meant anything by it," she assured her partner. "Right, Cap?"

Harry Lipschitz was grinning. "Relax, Lorenzo. We all know how demanding the job can be. There are times when it has to come first, but that doesn't we should ignore or stop nurturing our personal lives. We owe it to our families and ourselves to strive for balance. I think you both know that already. You risked not being able to work together by getting engaged."

"Speaking of a personal life, can I talk you into a beer, Cap?"

The Captain eyed Rita curiously. "Me?"

"Yes. I'm buying."

Harry's eyes lit up. "I'm good with that. What about you, Chris? You coming?"

"No. I'm not invited."

Harry's grin turned mischievous. "Woohoo! Interesting."

Keisha passed the pair on their way out as she entered the division. "What's that all about?"

Chris was grinning. "Rita wants to talk to Cap about the wedding."

"Oh?" Keisha's eyes lit up. "Is she finally going to ask him?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome. I love love."

...

Chris was sitting in a beach chair; his long legs stretched out in front of him, his bare feet buried in the sand. Dressed in his most comfortable sweatshirt and shorts, the evening breeze was cool on his legs. Rita was in the beach chair right next to him, just as casual in her red hoodie and jeans, protected from the night chill by a beach blanket.

Dinner had been from the Crab Shack, a legendary beachside hole-in-the-wall, which was a welcome change after two nights of fancy dress and fine dining in town with his parents. Chris had picked up their order of fish tacos at the To Go window while Rita secured them an empty picnic table within walking distance of the water. Armed with Styrofoam containers full of tacos and fries, plastic forks, and two cold beers – no cups needed, thank you very much, he had joined Rita and they ate with gusto, tucking into their meal with a minimum of conversation after a very long day.

The sun had started its descent as they finished eating and decided on a walk at the water's edge. It had disappeared altogether by the time Chris retrieved their beach chairs from the car and set them up a comfortable distance away from the unmanned lifeguard tower. This particular stretch of beach was one of his favorite spots. Rolling his head to the side, he smiled at his best friend. "Are you happy?"

Her return smile was tired, but there was true contentment in her eyes. "Very. Our family will be there."

"They will. Was Cap excited?"

"Yes. Very much so."

"Do you think he told Fran right away?"

"He called her from the bar and almost fell off his barstool when she squealed in his ear. He had to move the phone away."

Chris laughed. "Things are coming together now. I feel like we're going to have the exact wedding we want."

"We are lucky to be surrounded by so many good friends."

She was right.

"And parents," he added. "I'm pretty sure we're good there."

"Feels like we have two sets."

"Sometimes it does," Chris agreed, "but it's different with Harry and Fran. Parents is too narrow a term. You don't pick your parents. You're given life through them, and they get to keep the title whether they're good at it or not."

"You sound cynical."

"I'm trying not to be, but my experience has been limited in the parental department. Maybe that's why it's hard for me to think of Cap and Fran in those terms."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Do you remember Peaches?"

"The tattooist?"

"Yes. From the Charity Jones case."

"Of course. He's unforgettable."

"He was the first person I ever heard talk about a soul family."

"I'm not surprised. He's deep that way."

"Don't make fun."

"I'm dead serious."

"Good. I'll proceed then." Chris winked; his eyes filled with warmth as he enjoyed her teasing. After drinking in his fill of the beauty before him, he looked up at the myriads of stars covering the night sky. "He said that in the same way that we have soul mates, we are sometimes lucky enough to cross paths with people our souls recognize as family from the other side, from the beginning of time."

Rita's gaze had turned heavenward also as she silently contemplated his words.

"I love that idea. All my life, family has meant transitory relationships. My parents, my foster parents, my brother. They came into my life, but they never seemed to stay long. For a while there, I thought maybe I wasn't meant to ever have a family, but the life you and I are building together is filled with good people. Our friends, co-workers. Your parents. And especially Cap and Fran. They define family for me."

"I was lucky to have Grandma Rose."

"I know how important she was to you."

"She saved me."

"Grandparents are a foreign concept to me - in the practical sense."

"I'm sorry."

Rita turned to him and smiled. "Don't be. It made me who I am."

Chris nodded. As much as he wished she had had an easier childhood, he was in awe of the person she had become.

She watched him through half-closed eyes. "I'm not sure if you're ready to hear this, but I'm convinced we'll be seeing a lot more of Benny and Anna from now on."

Chris did not know how to respond. The current situation with his parents was too new and could change at any moment.

"And that's a good thing," she continued. "We're both in our mid-thirties. We've talked about having kids someday soon. I want them to have grandparents. Can you imagine what it would be like to have two sets of grandparents? Our kids will have a much different experience than we did. I want that for them. The bigger the family, the more love there is to go around."

Chris understood how important family was to Rita. It was the reason she had pushed so hard to have both his parents at the wedding. With Rita at the heart of their family, their children would never question if they were loved.

"Are you cold?" Chris asked, extending a hand and smiling when she grasped it. "Ready to head back?"

"A little, but no. This is the most relaxing moment of the entire week."

"Come over here then." He sat up straight, keeping hold of her hand as she left her chair to come sit on his lap. Curled up against him, her legs crossing over his, she pulled up the blanket to cover them both.

"Much better," Rita sighed.

With arms wrapped around his fiancée, his best friend, partner, and the love of his life, he had to agree. "Perfect way to end the day."

They sat in silence for a while with Rita's head tucked under his chin. He thought she might have fallen asleep to the roar of the surf until she spoke in a clear, fully awake voice.

"I thought we might hear from your parents tonight since they're still in town."

"Please, Rita. We don't dare put that thought into the universe. They'll be here all week; we need to pace ourselves with all this family time."

"You're right. They probably won't be leaving their suite for a while anyway."

"Sam! You're ruining what's been a perfectly wonderful evening so far."

He felt her silent laughter against his chest.

"I know how to fix it."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. She trailed a finger along his chin line, then sank her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, guiding his face to hers. She kissed him gently at first, lips only until she knew he couldn't take the teasing a moment longer, then plundering his mouth, leaving him breathless when she finally pulled away.

"Best apology ever," he croaked.

"Not an apology."

"No?"

"No. Just a little Lance-soon-to-be-Lorenzo magic."

"I like your style, partner. Let's go home."

"Let's go home."

~*~THE END~*~

Resauthor

2024

...

After Thoughts: Eighteen months ago, a new job changed my life and put writing on the back burner. Without the encouragement from D of the DA's Office, Legacy of Lies would never have developed beyond a one-line story prompt: Chris and Rita have dinner with his parents at a restaurant so they can discuss the wedding. D believes in me even when I don't believe in myself. A true friend. Oh, the discussions we have had…

Timeline of this story follows the events in Resolutions of the Heart

Special Mentions: Peaches, the tattooist, is from When Fate Persists

If you are a returning reader, thanks for sticking with me and for being a fan of C&R. They remain the most authentic best friends and lovers who have ever graced a TV screen. They are also kick-ass detectives. What they lacked in budget on Silk Stalkings, Chris (Rob) and Rita (Mitzi) made up for in chemistry.