“I know about the bribery attempt, Romana. Jacob filled me in earlier. You believe that James Barret murdered Belinda, and now Shera Barret is warning you to watch your step around him?”
“Or you could flip-flop that and theorize that Shera killed Belinda and James is warning me. Either scenario works.”
“Not so much when you factor in the phone call to Canter and the attempted bribery.”
“It still fits, Mick.” Jacob came in, shaking snow from his hair.
Romana wanted to sigh. He looked positively edible in a long black coat and European-cut black suit. His too- long hair and vaguely haunted features added a poetic air that had her fanning her face as she motioned them forward.
“We can hash this out later, gentlemen. Party’s in full swing, and we need to make the rounds. Is anyone not here?” she asked O’Keefe.
“Only Fitz.”
The pang that shot through her hurt more than any bullet. O’Keefe winced.
“Sorry. Not what I meant to say at all.”
Jacob caught her hand, brought her fingers to his lips. “Let’s dance.”
Mingling would have been more productive, but Romana needed a moment to rebalance her emotions. And, while dancing with Jacob had its dangerous points, it was certainly no hardship.
They swayed to a Rod Stewart song, something nostalgic and quite lovely, under a canopy of darkness liberally sprinkled with silver fairy lights.
A fifteen-foot traditional tree took pride of place at one end of the hall. Other, more sculptural trees dotted the perimeter. Garland swagged out from a star-shaped center point, and everything from the linen-covered tables to the black-velvet chairs seemed to glitter.
Romana estimated that there were over two hundred people in attendance. Jacob guessed closer to three. Whatever the count, it would be a skeleton police crew, at best, minding the city that night.
Her ankle-length chiffon-over-silk dress floated as she danced. Her silver shoes had stiletto heels and were really more strap than substance. A pair of Grandma Grey’s drop diamonds swung from her earlobes, and her own slim diamond bracelet slid up and down her arm whenever she moved.
Jacob fingered one of the earrings. “You really do look beautiful, but then I could say that about you any day or night.”
“And I’d be okay with it.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Any day or night.”
“You did have that gun pointed right between my eyes, you know.”
“Apparently, some points of training stick.”
He eased her away from the center of the floor. “Why does the old man call you Romanov?”
“Because that’s how his wife heard it when I introduced myself to her. She passed the mistake on to him. Two months later, she died. I’ve never had the heart to correct him.” She gave his hand a light squeeze. “There’s Patrick.”
Jacob followed her gaze. “He’s dancing with the new dispatcher.”
Another pang forked through her heart. “She has red hair.”
Jacob used his body to block the pair. “We don’t have to be here.”
“Yes, we do. But thank you.” She saw a hand come down on his shoulder and offered a pleasant, “Hello, James.”
Barret’s practiced smile didn’t waver under Jacob’s sharp look. “You can’t bring the best to the ball and not share, Detective. Shera’s at the punch bowl if you’re up for a challenge. But I should warn you, my wife’s in a bit of a temper this evening.”
Romana gave Jacob a barely perceptible headshake and James Barret her full attention as she drew him away.
“And so we dance again, Mr. Barret. I hear you were in Cleveland for a few days.”
“We’ll descend into business talk if I answer that question. I prefer a more festive topic. I trust the police are still tracking Warren Critch. Has there been any progress in the case?”
That was his idea of a festive topic? Interesting. “Not yet,” she replied. “Although it’s not so much a case as a manhunt.”
“Somehow that sounds even more dangerous.”
“Only for Jacob and me. The public’s in no real danger.” She hoped. “Tell me, exactly how well did you know Belinda Critch?”
“It always returns to business in the end.”
“Did it ever leave?”
Although his smile remained, the gleam in his eyes became a diamond-hard glitter. “I met Belinda for the first time in Gilhoolie’s Pub.”
“Yes, I know that part. Let’s fast-forward to the inscribed silver watch you gave her, date unknown.”
“Ah, yes. I’d forgotten about the watch.”
“When did you give it to her?”
“I don’t remember.”
Romana affixed what Fitz called her killer smile. “Try. Close will do. Was it shortly after Ben Brown’s death?”
He studied her through half-closed eyes. “Should I be contacting my lawyer?”
To keep him amenable, she went with her heart. “You must know by now that Fitz is missing. I found the watch in her room.”
He laughed and both gleam and smile returned full-force. “Bless her sticky little fingers. The woman’s an artiste. Fine, then, yes, I did give Belinda the watch, shortly after my partner’s funeral. She assisted in the autopsy, and at my request made certain that the procedure kept moving.”
“You mean she put a rush on it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed Ben’s money for a business transaction into which I was about to enter. He would have backed me if he’d lived, but dying the way he did threw a very large, very awkward monkey wrench into the works.”
“So you were thanking Belinda for getting her part of the job done quickly.”
“Quickly and efficiently. There was no impropriety, on her part or mine.”
“Then the secrets you referred to on the inside of the watch had nothing to do with your partner’s death?”
He gnawed on his inner lip, regarded her with grudging admiration. “I think maybe you should have been a lawyer.”
“Never know, I might get around to it. What secrets did you and Belinda share, James?”
“Off the record?”
“I’m not on the force anymore.”
“Jacob Knight is. I repeat, off the record, and not to be passed on to my wife. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Belinda and I had an affair while I was engaged to Shera. It wasn’t serious, and it didn’t last. If she’d chosen to be vindictive, she could have gone to Shera and created all manner of problems. But she didn’t. She walked away with no fuss and with no demands made. It was our secret, and we kept it. We remained friends after that-another surprise since I hadn’t expected friendship from her. Marrying Warren didn’t settle her in the least, but I do believe she loved him in her own way. I’m convinced she never wanted to see him hurt.”
“And yet she had one affair after another.”
“Meaningless flings. Strokes to an ego in serious need of repair. She came from a bad home. Drug-addicted mother, alcoholic father. Mother divorced, then remarried-another alcoholic, unfortunately. They had very little money between them and even less to give Belinda or her brother. As she got older, Belinda found she liked things. She discovered she could use her body to get them. It isn’t a new story, Romana. Men were toys to her. With the possible exception of Warren Critch.”
“What made him special?”
“What makes anyone special? A feeling.”
