Michael’s face was red and his jaw was clenched, but he handed her the bag.
Galit left in a hurry. Jorge politely opened the front door for her. She didn’t acknowledge him or the fact that Princess Anastasia had chewed a cantaloupe-size hole in her Burberry trench coat. Jorge had personally seen to that.
Renata the Hero
After Galit left, Christy and Michael heard a scuffling sound from the hall. They ran to check on the noise.
At the elevator, two tall, burly men had the blackmailer in handcuffs. The look of utter disbelief on her face was priceless.
“Renata,” Christy called, “bring the clock from the library.”
“We’re going to have to take the bonds with us, Mrs. Drummond,” one of the cops said.
“She’s got my wife’s ring, too,” Michael said. “The cash wasn’t enough.”
One cop started oinking at her. The other said, “You have the right to remain silent…”
Renata came running down the hall, a clock radio in her hand.
“We nanny-cammed the whole thing,” Christy said, handing the hidden camera to the cop reading Galit her rights. As they stepped into the elevator, Galit maintained a defiant expression even as both officers held their noses up and snorted loudly right in her face.
“And I heard the whole crime go down from my secret hiding place,” Renata said.
Michael looked at Christy, confused. “Renata knew about this?”
“Honey, the sting was her idea,” Christy said, “not mine.”
“How did she even know?” Michael asked.
“Well, when I met with Galit the other day, before you and I decided what to do, Renata was hiding in the closet.”
“What possessed you to do that?” Michael asked Renata.
“Christy told me that Galit was threatening to tell a big secret of yours. And secrets are my specialty. They’re what I’m known for. Christy said it would be bad if people found out, so she was gonna meet with Galit to talk her out of it. I decided to spy to see if I could help.”
“How could you tell Renata something so personal?” Michael asked.
“We tell each other a lot of things these days, don’t we?”
Renata nodded.
“Anyway,” Christy continued, “she was hiding in the closet during my first meeting with Galit. Which you will never do again, is that clear?”
“Yeah, I promise,” Renata said. Her secret hiding place was blown, but it was for a good cause.
“After Galit left, I caught her. But she had a good idea—to tape the next meeting. She thought we should get the police involved. So I suggested it to you.”
“And the Financial Journal,” Renata added. “Don’t forget that I told you to call them. Something just like this happened on Diff’rent Strokes. Arnold saved Mr. Drummond just like I helped save you.” Or was it Buffy who saved Uncle Bill? She wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know what to say,” Michael said. He looked at Renata, really looked at her. “You and I have a lot of catching up to do, Renata.”
“Don’t toy with me, Michael,” Renata said.
“I’m not. I mean it. I do.”
Renata’s eyes teared up, and she bit her lip. She took Michael’s hand in hers and squeezed. “In that case, it’s time you started calling me Freckles.”
Christy and Michael looked at each other. “Why?” Michael asked.
“I just think it’s important for a father to have a pet name for his daughter, that’s all.”
Christy smiled at the two of them. Then she turned to Michael. “While you were meeting with the banks yesterday and Renata was at school, the detectives came over to show me how to work the wire, and I remembered the nanny-cam that was hidden in the clock radio. Katherine gave it to me when Nectar first came to work for us.”
“You spied on Nectar?” Renata said. “How could you?”
“Well excuse me, Little Miss Snoop. Look who’s talking!”
“Oh, yeah. But still, you should have trusted her.”
“I did. I never used the thing. But we tested it, and it worked perfectly. So the police didn’t have to wire me.”
“That would have been so much cooler,” Renata said, disappointed. “Big Pussy wore a wire on The Sopranos before he got iced.”
“When were you watching The Sopranos?” Christy asked.
“Ali has the first five seasons on DVD,” Renata said. “There’s nudity on that show. And cursing,” she added with a measure of pride.
“I know. And that’s why you’re forbidden to watch it again. Is that clear?”
“Awwww…”
“Anyway,” Christy continued, “Renata’s been our silent partner in this operation all along. She even went with me to the Journal yesterday when I told them what was about to happen.”
“Boy, did they have a spaz attack,” Renata said.
Michael turned to her. “Renata, I want to thank you. You are one clever kid, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “And it’s Freckles to you.”
Can This Marriage Be Saved?
The jet began its graceful descent over the Mediterranean. The sun was almost gone, and Christy could see the evening lights sparkling by the shoreline. Michael wanted to surprise her, so she still didn’t know where they were going. She felt glamorous in a way she hadn’t for months, being whisked away in their plane to a beautiful seaside getaway. When they landed, the pilot came on over the speaker. “Welcome to Saint-Tropez.” No wonder Michael had allowed her to pack only three outfits: a bikini, a summer dress, and running clothes.
As their driver sped along a curvy seaside road with tiny villages on each side, Christy let out a long sigh. She and Michael had been through so much together since their wedding—an unexpected child, who made Christy break a promise to him; the crash of her career and her ego; Michael’s fling, which broke his most important promise to Christy; another unexpected child—and then a threat to everything he had built. Christy wondered if the damage could be repaired. She didn’t think they could go back, but maybe they could go forward. As though he was reading her thoughts, Michael moved closer and
