The thought of the fifty-thousand-dollar check and no nightmares about the cops ever catching up with him had transformed Gavin into a near-euphoric mood. He’d spend the rest of the day on the phone talking to all the columnists. Who knows? Maybe he’d get “Gavin’s Guests” back on the air.

Chapter 66

NEW YORK

THEY GOT THROUGH customs in a mercifully short time. The only near catastrophe was when Veronica went to pet one of the drug-sniffing German shepherds. “Precious, precious,” she murmured as Regan yanked her hand back.

There was no mistaking the Buttacavola clan, Regan thought affectionately. They were standing directly in front of the customs gate. Mario Junior was a carbon copy of his father. Regan had seen so many pictures of Roz, Mario the Third and Concepcione that she could have picked them out of an aerial shot of Yankee Stadium.

Immaculata swooped down on the children, crushing the bouquet of roses Mario the Third was attempting to hand her. “Wait till we tell you what a hero your grandpa is,” she cried as she smothered them with kisses.

“Mommy just threw up,” Mario the Third reported as he struggled free from his grandmother’s clutches.

“Roz, are you all right?” Immaculata asked in an alarmed voice.

“Morning sickness, Grandma,” Roz bragged with an ear-to-ear smile. “Nunzio or Fortunata will arrive in time for Valentine’s Day.”

“AAAAAHHHHHH!” Immaculata’s scream of delight drowned out the sound of traffic on the West Side Highway.

It was also easy to pick out Veronica’s cousin and her two daughters. The mother was holding a sign. WELCOME, AUNT VERONICA.

“Ah, there they are, my flesh and blood,” Veronica cried as she ran to them. They all dropped into a curtsy.

It won’t do you any good, pals, Regan thought.

“Hey, Regan. Regan.” Jeff’s familiar voice made her spin around. A moment later he was sweeping her up. Over his shoulder she could see Kit’s smiling face.

“I brought you some chocolates,” Jeff said. “Somebody in first class gave them to me.”

“Thanks a lot! The last guy who gave me chocolates tried to kill me.” It was great to see the two of them.

Kit was waving a letter. “The first request for donations to Saint Polycarp’s arrived by Express Mail!”

They all clinked glasses at Tavern on the Green.

Violet Cohn, thoroughly pleased to have been right, was telling Kenneth and Dale how impossibly rude Cameron had been when he waited on them in Greece. “Can you believe I overheard him calling me an old bag?” Their looks of profound shock would have done credit to Sir Laurence Olivier.

Regan could tell that Sylvie and Milton were holding hands under the table.

Gavin was devoting himself to Nora. “When I get ‘Gavin’s Guests’ back on the air, I want you to be on the first program. Boy, will we have a lot to tell the audience.”