Bombshell

“We dweebs are glad we could help you get there, Mac,” Savich said, and picked up another slice of his vegetarian delight.

Dix said, “I hate even smelling that stuff. Believe me, I was glad to leave it to you.” He turned to Anna. “I’m going to miss you pouring me coffee every morning at Maurie’s Diner.”

Anna patted his arm. “I’m going to miss you, too, Sheriff, and Maurie, of course. He was a great boss. I was afraid he was going to cry when he found out who I really was and that I was leaving, but I distracted him by telling him to give my best to his beloved mama. Dix, you’ve got a lot of great folk in Maestro. Please tell everyone I enjoyed spending time with them.”

Sherlock slipped a sleepy Astro a bit of sausage from one of the pizzas. “I’m glad Salazar made it. Maybe between him and Gabrielle—Claudine Renard, I mean—you can get enough information together on Maria Rosa to make the Spanish police happy.”

“She buried their identities as deep as she could, but not deep enough,” Anna said. “I feel sorry for Dr. Hayman, though. He’s already resigned from Stanislaus.”

Delsey said, “I, on the other hand, can’t wait to get back to Maestro and Stanislaus. What, you thought I wouldn’t want to go back there to school, Griffin? Of course I do. I want to finish my degree. The only thing I can’t see doing is going back to live in my apartment next to Henry. Ruth is going to help me find a nice, safe apartment close to campus.”

Anna sat back in her chair and announced, “Sorry, Delsey, no more school for me. Nope, it’s time for a vacation. I was undercover for a long time, and waitressin’ is hard work. I’ve got to admit, though, that all the tips from Maurie’s really supplemented my income. Mr. Brannon said I’ve earned a long break.”

Griffin was thinking how sexy her voice sounded laced with her syrupy slow Southern drawl when Savich said to him, “And you’re officially off duty, Griffin, until your leg heals. Are you planning a vacation, too?”

Griffin nodded. “Actually, Ms. Parrish and I have decided to take our vacation together. Rome, the Colosseum, playing Christians and lions, and all that. It will be out of season, maybe a bit on the chilly side, but there shouldn’t be any fighting with hordes of other tourists at the gelato stand.”

Anna looked at his impossibly beautiful face, with his nose just a little bit off kilter. “I’ll just have to figure out if he’s going to be a gimpy Christian or a gimpy lion.”

Or maybe, she thought, as everyone laughed, she could take him to Maui instead. She could only imagine how good he’d look in swim trunks and lots of sunscreen she would apply herself. She gave a little shudder and turned down the last slice of pizza, thinking of her little polka-dot bikini.

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

One week later

Savich slipped his cell phone back into his pocket and watched Sherlock toss a piece of popcorn in a high arc to their manic dog, Astro. Astro took a flying leap off the living room carpet, caught the popcorn two feet in the air, dropped back down, chewed for a millisecond, and raced back to Sherlock, barking for more. It was a game that had no end until the popcorn was gone and they’d proved to him that it was gone, usually by letting him carry the empty bowl around in his teeth.

Savich picked up The Washington Post, pointed to a photo of the Koh-i-Noor diamond in its setting in the Queen Mother’s crown. “You and I haven’t had a chance to talk about the Jewel of the Lion exhibit at the Met next week. I spoke with Bo Horsley, you remember, my dad’s old partner?”

“Oh, yes. Did he congratulate you on saving the world?”

“I spoke to him before there was any saving, but he did email me with a ‘well done’ this morning. I think I told you he’s heading up the private security for the Jewel of the Lion exhibit at the Met. Not only has he got us a town house in Chelsea, he wants us to go to the opening gala as his guests, eyeball the Crown Jewels and the Koh-i-Noor diamond, and rub elbows with the rich and famous. He’s trying to talk his nephew, Nicholas Drummond—Bo called him the youngest muckety-muck at Scotland Yard—to come over. His added inducement was Detective Inspector Elaine York, a colleague of his nephew’s who’s the official ‘minder’ for the exhibit. He really likes her. Also, she’s a vegetarian.”

Sherlock rolled her eyes. “He have any more perks to offer?”

Savich grinned at her. “That’s about it. He did add in his email that Nicholas is not only a chief detective inspector with Scotland Yard, he’s also a computer expert, probably better than me. He says it’s about time we met. Maybe we could duke it out. I could hear him laughing with that shot.”