“Name?”
“No one knows. Say, what about my BMW? Do I get my car back after posting bail tomorrow?”
“Mr. Florakis, we can share your charges with your attorney. Your car is impounded, and I doubt if it’s drivable. I can guarantee there will be no bail.”
Florakis spit across the table. “You have no idea who you’re talking to.”
“We’ll see what a judge says. By the way, we’ve confiscated several bugs at the maternity home and recordings of you and Anna Wright arranging for birth mothers to give up their babies. Made for great listening.”
“Won’t be admissible in court when my attorney is finished with you.”
69
Gage and I decided my parents needed a Christmas tree before they arrived home on New Year’s Eve for our celebration. Gage had invited me to spend Christmas with his family, and the prospect thrilled me, since I’d never met them before. But tonight, December 23, we played holiday tunes, drank hot chocolate, and decorated a freshly cut, nine-foot pine tree. I loved the smell, but poor Gage rubbed his eyes.
We’d dragged the boxes down from the attic and fortunately only had to replace two fuses in the strings of white lights. Mom had eclectic taste when it came to ornaments, which meant boxes of all the homemade and purchased ones that Trenton and I had presented our parents over the years. She also liked crosses and snowmen. If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never understand the combination, but they clung to the branches of the traditional Jacobs tree.
Gage had brought mistletoe, and we stole more than our fair share of kisses and whispers of “I love you.” We sang along to the music andattemptedto harmonize. At completion, we stood back and admired the glittering magic.
What a relief to have the baby-ring case nearly behind us. More work needed to be done to discover the operation’s kingpin and locate Emily Lock and Harvey Sinclair. But Peter Florakis, Trenton’s andLuke’s killer, sat behind bars, and Anna Wright wouldn’t ever convince a birth mother to give up her child again.
I missed Trenton just like in past years. Yet this Christmas I knew where he spent the most important birthday in the universe.
“Here’s an ornament we missed,” Gage said, interrupting my thoughts.
I didn’t recognize the box. “This must be a new one.”
“It is. Fits you perfectly.”
I took a small box from his outstretched hand and turned it to see the image of the contents. I laughed. “A red race car.”
“I bet you’ll find the best spot to dangle it.”
I opened it and set the race car free from the packing.
I gasped.
A diamond ring hung from the steering wheel. The tree lights picked up the ring’s sparkle. “Oh, my goodness.” My gaze flew to his smiling face. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Not yet.” He bent to one knee and took my hand. “Risa Maura Jacobs, I’ve loved you since I first saw you. Will you marry me?”
I giggled.
I cried.
I bent in front of him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Yes! I’ll love you forever.”
He kissed me lightly, then deeper until we toppled onto the floor.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered. “You are the perfect gift.”
70
THREE MONTHS LATER
RISA
SAC Dunkin had scheduled a meeting with Gage and me. My stomach fluttered almost as much as the evening Gage told me of his love. The SAC knew of our upcoming wedding, and he’d congratulated us. We shared with him that we were both willing to transfer to different divisions. Nothing else had been said. We understood our FBI partnership would be sacrificed for our life together. Worth it all. I’d frightened Gage with my wild ways, and if he planned to take on the Risa package, I needed to curb my ways.