All Fixed Up (34 page)

Billy's necktie—the one with lumps of coal and “naughty” written on it in all the different fonts—was well received, by Molly in particular, who'd also gotten him a tie—a green one with spines. “Get it? It's a cacti!” She chortled her delight as the rest of us groaned. “And you can't complain, because you only told me not to get you a
Christmas
tie. Ha! Gotcha.”

“Thanks, squirt.” He slipped it around his neck and quickly knotted it, careful not to flatten the spines. “Now come here and give me a hug.”

Molly beat a hasty retreat. “No way!”

Billy pulled me to him instead (the spines weren't really sharp) and whispered, “I won't put on yours now, but don't worry, I'm sure I'll be able to think of an appropriately ‘naughty' use for it. Later.”

I shivered. “What a coincidence. I'll be giving you the rest of your gift later.”

“What'd Billy get
you
, Ciel?” Siobhan said, parading around in the cowboy hat and boots I'd gotten her. (They added a certain panache to her flannel pj's.)

Billy looked down at me and grinned. “If you'll excuse me for a minute, I have a retrieval to make.”

“Where are you going?” I said, puzzled when he put his coat on.

“Well, knowing a certain someone's propensity for snooping, I took precautions. Candy kindly agreed to keep something in her vehicle for me.” Candy had drawn the short straw for Christmas Day duty, along with a fresh recruit. (Al and another guy had been on watch until midnight, so he hadn't escaped entirely, but at least he was getting to spend Christmas Day with his family.)

“Oh, wait, Billy … as long as you're going out, take some cinnamon rolls and coffee to the gang outside. Let me get a thermos and some cups.” Mom bustled off to the kitchen, talking the whole way. “I do wish they could come in and join us. It's so cold out there, and not to be with your family on…”

Billy waited by the front door while Mom loaded up a care package. I waited with him. “Need any help carrying my present in? If it's heavy, I'd be happy to give you a hand.”

He tugged my hair. “Patience, cuz.”

“So, not heavy? Bulky, then. I'm great with bulky.”

“I'm not going to tell you how big it is. I'm not giving you any hints at all. Anyway, it's only a few more minutes. Surely you can hold out that long.”

I stuck my nose up in the air. “Huh. Of course I can. Don't bother to hurry. My patience is infinite.”

Mom came back, still talking. “… not to worry, I put it all together so you can carry it. Tell them to call if they need anything else.” She handed a huge box to Billy. “Now, if you need help I'll get Thomas. Or James. Or—”

Billy grinned. “Auntie Ro, if you could carry it from the kitchen, I'm sure I can manage it the rest of the way.”

Mom beamed at him. “Thank you, sweetie. Here, let me find a scarf for your neck.”

“Never mind that. I won't be but a minute.” He was out the door before she could start rummaging through the closet.

Mom hooked her arm through mine and started walking me back to the others. “He's always been the nicest boy. Full of mischief, but so sweet. I can't tell you how happy Mo and I are that you two finally realized you loved each other. Do you think he got you a ring?”

Yikes. “Slow down, Mom. Don't you have enough on your plate right now?”

She laughed. “Oh, honey, you'd be surprised at how big my plate is. There's always room on it for another helping of love.”

In the living room Thomas and Laura were gushing over the handcrafted cradle Dad had brought in from his garage workshop. Looked like he'd spent every spare minute from the time he'd heard the good news working on it. The lines were simple, in the Amish tradition, and the wood was stained a medium brown, the same color as Thomas's hair.

Mom rushed over to them. “Wait … there's more.” She pulled one last package out from under the tree. She'd taken the precaution of tagging it with her own name, to make sure it wasn't opened out of turn. “This goes with it.”

The happy parents-to-be ripped off the paper to reveal a cradle mattress and six fitted sheets.

“And this,” Auntie Mo said. Her addition was the softest baby blanket ever knitted. (I touched it, so I was certain.) Apparently she'd used every color of baby yarn she could get her hands on, and hadn't followed any particular pattern. It was gloriously hideous, and I could tell by the way Laura rubbed it against her cheek she loved it with all her heart.

I must have looked at it expectantly, because Mo slipped another package to me. As I'd hoped, it was a replacement afghan, even uglier than the one I'd lost in the fire. I wrapped it around me like a shawl and told her she was the best aunt ever.

A big group hug and ten minutes of everyone raving about the cradle and Mo's knitting later, I began to wonder what was taking Billy so long. I went to the front hall and peeked out one of the sidelights, expecting to see him shooting the breeze on the street with Candy or one of the other agents, testing my “infinite patience.” I saw two SUVs, but no Billy. Maybe he was inside one of them. It was hard to tell with the tinted windows.

After another five minutes, I stopped being impatient to see my gift and started worrying. It shouldn't be taking this long. Billy liked to tease me, but I didn't think he'd take it this far, not when he knew the strain we'd all been under waiting for Loughlin to be caught.

Maybe I should check …

I got my coat from the closet and quietly slipped out the front door—no point in getting anyone else jazzed up over what was probably nothing. Candy and her cohort were in the SUV across the street, gratefully sipping Mom's coffee and chowing down on cinnamon rolls, their firearms within easy reach. When I asked about Billy, they said he'd gone back into the house right after he'd left the box of goodies. They'd watched him every step of the way.

“He checked his phone as he opened the front door. Looked like he might be reading a text.”

“Huh. Maybe he's in the bathroom. Or … look, he said he was coming out here to get my present. Could it be something that requires, I don't know, setting up or special presentation?” He could have sneaked past me while I was preoccupied with the cradle crowd. Maybe he was in the basement right now, preparing a surprise for me.

“Well, he did seem pretty excited about the present. But if you want me to come check the house again, I will. Joe can hold down the fort out here for a few.”

Her cohort smirked. “Oh, sure. I'd be happy to sit out here freezing my ass off while you go warm yours. Of course, there might not be any cinnamon rolls left when you get back.”

Candy practically growled at him. “Touch mine and die.”

I laughed, pretty sure she was joking. “No need. Stay here and defend your rolls. I'll track down Billy myself.” And my present, because damn, I was really curious now.

 

Chapter 28

Mom was passing through the center hall on the way to the kitchen when I came in. “Ciel! What were you doing outside? Are Joe and Candy okay? Do they need more cocoa? Coffee? Rolls? Never mind, I'll send more out when the quiche is done—I know they'll want to try it. It's a new recipe. Peanut butter and oysters, with a dash of—”

Jesus, spare them. And the rest of us.
“Mom, have you seen Billy? I seem to have misplaced him.”

A timer went off in the kitchen. “Try upstairs. I heard the floor squeaking up there, and everyone else is in the living room.” She scurried off to check her latest avant-garde culinary masterpiece.

Leaving my coat on the banister, I went upstairs and peeked into every room, including the restrooms and closets. (Pro tip: Never look in your parents' closet if finding a French maid's outfit, a Thor costume, and a copy of the
Kama Sutra
might scar you.) Billy was nowhere to be found.

My phone buzzed, giving my left boob an unexpected tingle. (Why didn't pajama pants come with pockets?) I was ready to give Billy some hell, figuring it must be him. But it wasn't.

“Ciel Halligan?” The accent was way too Australian for comfort. Loughlin.

Crap. What should I do? “Yes…” I started swiping the screen, looking for the app Mark had installed for me to record conversations. (Yeah, totally illegal without letting the other party know. I'd let Mark deal with the ramifications.)

“I hope you're having a good time with your family. Pleasant neighborhood you have there. Please give your mother my compliments on the tree. It's the prettiest one on your block. And the fishing line? So clever of your father.”

A chill went through me.

“Thank you. I'd invite you over for a closer view, only you might have a hard time getting in.” That hadn't sounded too shaky, had it?

“I expect I would. Mr. Fielding has been a royal pain in my backside with all his pet security guards. So I'm afraid you'll have to come to me instead.”

“Oh, really. And why would I do that?” I said, keeping my voice pleasant. Just another telephone convo with a murderer.

“Because if you don't a state-of-the-art, highly specialized drone will drop a pound or so of C-4 at the base of your parents' very old brownstone. Doesn't take much to make those collapse, does it? Could get messy for anyone inside.”

Crap. He hadn't given it to the Russians?
“What?” I said, trying hard not to let on how badly he'd shaken me. “You're being ridiculous. You couldn't possibly…” Could he?

“Oh, I can. And I will. Thanks to Mikhail Yurgevich's technology.”

Jesus.
He did have it.

“I don't believe you. If you could kill us all as easily as that, you wouldn't be warning me about it now.”

“Ask me what I want, Ciel. Ask me why I need you.”

“Why do you need me?” I echoed automatically, still dazed, trying to stall for time, praying a good idea for dealing with this madman would come to me.

“I need you because
you
are going to get me my money from the goddamn Russians so I can get goddamn Bratva off my goddamn back. You are going to perform your fucking magic one last time so I can sell them Philippa Carson.”

“Why don't you just sell them the drone instead? Isn't that what they're after?”

“I tried. They wouldn't take the deal. Somehow they figured out if they control Misha, they'll get the drone
and
any other brilliant technology he might come up with in the future. Imagine that. Russians with brains.”

Same thing Mark had pointed out with his golden goose reference. “Right. But if that's the case, why wouldn't you go after the real Dr. Carson? She's the one you need, not me. Not that I'm suggesting it.”

“Thanks to your Mr. Fielding, she has a goddamn arsenal around her, and her idiot husband has been put someplace out of my reach. And since her brother and his children have disappeared, too, I don't have sufficient leverage to persuade
her
to come see me without her army of guards.”

“The way you do with me.”

“Yes. The way I do with you.”

I had to keep stalling. “But what good would it do to give them me if Phil is still in the public eye?” I paced the upstairs as I spoke, walking blindly from room to room, keeping my voice low.

“Oh, I imagine Mr. Fielding will find a way to keep her out of the spotlight while you're missing, protective as he is about your kind.” The way he said “your kind” made it sound like we were vermin. “You know, at first I thought you should all be wiped off the planet. But now I can see where you might have your uses.”

“Yeah, well, you don't get to decide who lives and who dies. You're not God,” I snapped.

“Shut up.” He gave me an address in a commercial area not far away. “If you leave right now you should be able to get here in seven minutes. If you're not here, the drone will drop—and detonate—its cargo. If anyone other than you leaves the house in the interim, the drone will drop its cargo
immediately.
Trust me, they won't be able to get far enough away to escape the effects of the blast entirely.”

Jesus.
“But I can't go anywhere alone. The security guards follow me everywhere.”

“Have one—and only one—of them drive you. My advice? Pick your least favorite. And don't get any ideas about warning your watchdogs, because if anything happens to me the drone will automatically make the drop.”

“I still think”—
prayed
—“you're bluffing.”

“You saw what I did to your condo.” I could almost see him shrugging. “You think I'm not capable of this? Seven minutes, Ciel. Leave now. Tick-tock.” He disconnected.

Fuck!
I needed time to think. And time was something I didn't have. I crept down the stairs, grabbed my coat from the banister, and left the house, careful to make sure no one saw or heard me.

Candy had the window down by the time I got to the SUV. “What? No more cinnamon rolls?” Her smile was infectious; I couldn't help but return it, no matter how sick I felt inside.

“I think Mom has something in the oven for you guys. But, listen, I remembered a present I forgot to pick up. For, um, Billy. I'd feel really bad if his gift to me is better than mine to him, you know? Could I get a ride? It's not far.”

“Sure. Hop in. But what's open on Christmas?”

“Um … it's not. I called the owner—he made me something for Billy's car—and he's meeting me there. Hoo-boy! I had to promise to pay through the nose, but it will be worth it. Look, can we please go? I need to get back before Billy realizes I'm gone, or he'll know I didn't remember”—geez, I was talking as fast as Mom—“and his feelings will be hurt. Hey, I know! Candy, could you go find Billy and keep him distracted until I get back? Don't tell him I'm gone. Or anyone. Please? I'd be
so
embarrassed.” I gave her a beseeching look I'd learned from watching Billy.