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  62. AUTHOR’S NOTE

“Heard of her? Are you kidding? She was big news last year. Was that Bach on the phone?”

Dino nodded. “I knew her when Stone and I were on that D.C. thing.”

“I’m not going to ask what you mean by ‘knew,’ even though I want to know.”

“I’ve got a shot at busting her tonight,” Dino said.

“That would be quite a bust,” Rosie said.

“She’s asked me to meet her for a drink at the Carlyle.”

“I expect the Bureau would like to know about that,” Rosie pointed out.

Dino shook his head. “They’re so desperate to nail her they’d flood the area with agents. She’d spot the setup from a mile away. You think she doesn’t know how they think?”

“She doesn’t know how I think,” Rosie said.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Then let’s do it.”

“Who around here doesn’t look like a cop?” Dino asked.

“Viv,” Rosie replied.

“Viv isn’t up to this yet.”

“She’d hate to miss it.”

“We’ll have to live with that.” He thought about it. “Shelley wouldn’t be expecting two women, though.”

“Who would?”

“Come with me,” Dino said, checking his watch. “It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

Viv was sitting up in the hospital bed, flipping impatiently through a magazine when Dino and Rosie walked in.

“Have you two come to liberate me?” she asked.

Dino and Rosie pulled up chairs. “How are you feeling?” he asked, then he held up a hand. “No, how are you really feeling?”

“I was ready to go back to work the day before yesterday,” Viv replied. “What’s going on?”

“I’m reluctant to let you do this,” Dino said.

Viv threw the magazine at him. “I don’t care what it is,” she said, “just get me out of here.”

Dino looked at Rosie and nodded. Rosie set a shopping bag on the bed. “I picked up some of your stuff.”

“Get dressed,” Dino said. “I’ll go find somebody to sign off on this.” He got up and left.

“What’s up?” Viv asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and reaching for the shopping bag.

“You’re going to like it,” Rosie said, grinning.

53

SHELLEY HEARD the doorbell and went to answer it. She opened the door and silently surveyed the man who stood there, to see if her wishes had been followed. He was in his mid-thirties, well over six feet, slim, wearing an expensive suit, expensive shoes, and an expensive haircut. “You’ll do,” she said. “Come in for a minute.”

She stood back and let him enter. “I’m Brenda,” she said.

He smiled, revealing expensive dental work. “I’m Steve.”

“Hello, Steve,” she said, offering her hand. “I think you’re going to work out just fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied. “And speaking of work …”

“Of course,” she said. She went to her handbag and retrieved the money, already counted out and in a hotel envelope. “Here you are.”

“You’ll get your money’s worth,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

“Right now, I want a drink and some dinner,” she said. “I’ve booked a table in Bemelmans Bar, downstairs. It’s in a corner with a good view of the bar and the entertainment. I’ll take the gunfighter’s seat, facing the room. Got it?”