Cross Fire - James Patterson [80]
It happens. A lot of police work is about skimming the bottom layers off things without ever getting to the top. In fact, that’s exactly what the people at the top count on. The ones who work for them — the guns for hire, the thugs, the street criminals — those are the ones who absorb most of the risk, and all too often they’re the only ones who take the fall.
Something about “foxes in the henhouse” comes to mind.
Chapter 108
AFTER TWO MORE DAYS of boring and exhausting paperwork, I took a long weekend and spent some time playing what the kids like to call Ketchup. Mostly it’s just me turning off my cell and hanging out with them as much as possible, although Bree and I did sneak away for a few blessed hours on Sunday afternoon.
We drove up to a place called Tregaron, in Cleveland Heights. It’s a huge neo-Georgian mansion on the Washington International School campus, available for rentals in the summer months. We got a tour from their tightly wound community relations director, Mimi Bento.
“And this is the Terrace Room,” she said, walking us in from the grand foyer.
It was a parquet-floored hall with brass chandeliers, open to a canopied patio at the back. Beyond that were the pristine gardens and a view of the Klingle Valley. Not too shabby. Beautiful, actually. And classy.
Ms. Bento checked her leather folio. “It’s available August eleventh, twenty-fifth, or… next year, of course. How many guests were you thinking?”
Bree and I looked at each other. It seemed weird that we hadn’t thought about this in much detail, but we hadn’t. We wanted to keep it somewhat small, I guess. It was all kind of new for us.
“We’re not sure yet,” Bree said, and the corners of the woman’s mouth turned down almost imperceptibly. “But we definitely want the ceremony and reception in the same place. We’d like to keep everything relatively simple.”
“Of course,” she said. You could just see the dollar signs getting smaller in her eyes. “Well, why don’t you look around a little more, and I’ll be in the office if you have any questions.”
Once she was gone, we walked outside to see the terrace. It was a perfect spring day, and easy to imagine a wedding happening here.
“Any questions?” Bree said.
“Yes.” I took her hand and pulled her in. “Is this where we’d have our first dance?”
We started swaying right there while I hummed a few bars of Gershwin in her ear. No, no, they can’t take that away from me.…
“You know what?” Bree said suddenly. “This place is absolutely gorgeous. I love it.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said.
“Except I think we should skip it.”
I stopped dancing and looked at her.
“I don’t need to spend the next few months thinking about what color the invitations are going to be or who’s going to sit next to who,” she said. “That’s someone else’s wedding, not mine. Not ours. I just want to be married to you. Like now.”
“Now?” I said. “Like — now?”
She laughed and reached up to kiss me. “Soon anyway. After Damon comes home from school. What do you think?”
I didn’t have to think. All I needed out of this wedding was for it to be exactly what Bree wanted — fancy mansion or Washington courthouse, I didn’t care. As long as she was there.
“After Damon comes home, then,” I said, and sealed the deal with another kiss. “Next question: do you think we can sneak out the back, or do we have to tell Mimi?”
Chapter 109
THE BACKYARD WAS BEAUTIFUL, the way everyone did it up for us. Sampson, Billie, and the kids had put little white lights in the trees, and candles everywhere you looked. There was jazz in the air, and a dozen high-backed chairs arranged on the patio for the friends and family we’d invited on short notice.
The kids stood up with us for the ceremony — Ali, with the rings; Jannie, beaming in the beautiful white dress