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  “Or happen to spot four designer wedding gowns lying around in a Dumpster—” Kenny said as he laughed heartily.

  “Then give us a call.”

  “Let’s offer a reward!”

  Francis snapped off the radio.

  “I told you the Dumpster idea was bad,” Marco gloated.

  “Marco! We’ve got to get rid of those dresses. Everyone is going to be looking for them. And I just thought of something. We can’t pull into the hotel parking lot. They do random checks of people’s trunks.” Francis’s leg was starting to hurt. “Let’s go back home.”

  “No. That parrot drives me crazy. I need to walk on the beach.”

  “Then we need to find a big box so we can pack them up and send the dresses off to Vegas.”

  Marco was silent for a moment. Finally he sighed and agreed. “You’re probably right. We don’t need to be driving around with the evidence. As it is we’ve got all the cash and jewelry with us. But that’s easier to hide than four wedding gowns.”

  “Where are we going to find a box?” Francis asked impatiently. “I can’t imagine there are too many box stores around here.”

  “That means we have to buy something that comes in a big box.”

  “Like what?”

  Marco put on the blinker and pulled off at the next exit. “I know you’re nervous about leaving Joyce behind tonight—”

  “I am,” Francis interrupted. “I’m beginning to think I should just marry her. That settled-down life is looking pretty good to me after hanging around with you.”

  Marco nodded. “Suit yourself. Anyway, buddy, what I was starting to say was that I noticed her dishwasher is leaky. I mentioned it to her, and she said she needed a new one. Now’s the time to surprise her with one! When we arrive home tomorrow, you present it to her as a peace offering.”

  “A dishwasher? That’s not the most romantic gift.”

  “Those gowns won’t fit in a ring box! I’m doing my best here!” Marco yelled.

  Francis rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He could just picture Joyce’s face when he presented her with a new dishwasher minus the box. I’ll have to buy a big red bow, he thought.

  And I’ll make a promise to her that Marco will be gone within the week. He opened his eyes, stole a glance at his partner in crime, then shut them again. I just hope that’s a promise I can keep, he thought miserably.

  16

  Regan pulled Nora’s car into the garage of the Reillys’ apartment building on Central Park South. For several years, they had kept a pied-à-terre in New York City. At this moment, Nora was particularly grateful that she didn’t have to drive all the way to New Jersey before she could collapse.

  “What a day this has turned out to be,” she sighed.

  Turning off the engine, Regan turned to her mother. “I have the feeling that the fun has just begun.”

  Regan and Kit walked Nora up to the apartment that had a sweeping view of Central Park. The rain had let up, and after a long winter, the park was turning green again.

  “Would you like a cup of tea before you head out?” Nora asked.

  “I reached my tea quota for the month, Mom.”

  “A little of Charisse’s lavender tea goes a long way,” Kit agreed. “You know, Regan, if I ever do meet someone I want to marry, I think eloping might be a good way to go.”

  “Kit!” Nora laughed. “Your mother would never forgive you.”

  “Yes, she would. If she thought she had to go through all this, she’d buy me a ladder.”

  Nora pulled the sliding glass door that opened onto the terrace. “It’s nice to get some air in here.”

  “I tell you what needs a good airing out,” Kit began, “Charisse and Alfred’s place. They need to bring in one of those experts to get rid of all the negative energy.”

  “First let them concentrate on getting Regan’s dress done,” Nora commented.

  “If I think there’s anything that they’re going to focus on, it’s getting those dresses made,” Regan stated. “Mom, Kit and I have to get going. We’ll take cabs to these other two brides’ apartments and see if we can catch them in. Jack went back to his office. We’re going to meet up with him later. What time will Dad get here?”

  “He said by six. We’re going to go to Neary’s for dinner, then we’ll head home. This next week is going to be so hectic.” Nora paused. Hesitating, she began, “Regan, we have so much to do. I know you want to help Alfred, but this is your wedding. You can’t drop everything.”

  “I know, Mom. We have another week to get ready.”

  Nora made a face. “Not a whole week dear. We can’t figure out who’s going to sit where Saturday morning. That alone takes hours.”

  “Mom, I promise I’ll give this case just a couple of days. Then we’ll focus completely on the wedding.”

  Nora smiled at her only child. “You know, Regan, you have waited your whole life for this day. You’ve met a wonderful guy.”

  “I know I have,” Regan said quietly.

  “I want you to be relaxed and rested. There is enough stress to deal with anyway, without all this aggravation.”

  “Regan can’t help herself,” Kit interjected. “Her wedding dress was stolen and she’s an investigator.”

  Nora smiled wanly. “I know. It’s in her blood. It’s like someone telling me not to write. But, Regan, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  Regan looked at her mother. All of a sudden Nora seemed weary. Regan knew how hard she’d worked on taking care of so many of the details of the wedding while Regan was in Los Angeles. It wasn’t fair to make her nervous and worried now. “I promise.”

  “Okay then.” Nora reached out her arms and gave quick hugs to both Regan and Kit. “At this time next week we’ll be at the church. Regan, you’ll be ready to come down the aisle. Jack will be waiting for you at the altar…”

  A lump started to form in Regan’s throat. “I know, Mom. I know,” she said quickly. “I promise I won’t screw it up.” She gave her mother a kiss. “Let’s go, Kit.”

  “I’m ready. I can’t wait to meet these other two brides. You know I was thinking, we should check out Tracy’s ex sooner rather than later. Maybe he’d be good for me and he can be my date for your wedding.”

  “Get out of here!” Nora laughed. “I’ll see you two later. But keep me posted!”

  “We will.”

  When they shut the door, Nora went out on the terrace and leaned against the railing. Central Park was so beautiful. A horse and buggy was clipclopping down the road below. Nora smiled. Regan and Jack will be taking one of those from the church on Park Avenue to the reception several blocks away. Jack was going to surprise her. He knew that Regan had loved riding in them when she was a little girl. He’d hired the most charming carriage and made sure the driver would be dressed in tails. It would be waiting outside the church when they came out.

  Nora couldn’t wait to see the expression on Regan’s face. Next week at this time, she mused. I don’t think I’ll relax until Regan and Jack step out onto the dance floor as husband and wife. She started humming the song they’d chosen, “Till There Was You.”

  17

  Regan and Kit hailed a taxi and gave the address of Victoria Beardsley, who lived on the Upper West Side. They headed across Central Park South, the sight of the towering Time Warner Center in front of them, home of exorbitantly priced condos, upscale shops, and hip restaurants, including the highly praised Per Se, which wasn’t a place to go “grab a bite.” Reservations could only be made two months in advance for that sumptuous multihour dining experience.

  The cab rounded Columbus Circle and made a right on Broadway. It was late Saturday afternoon in early April, and the streets were busy. Shoppers were out in full force. The rain had driven people inside, but the minute the sky cleared, they were back out again. Springtime was in the air.

  As they were passing Lincoln Center, Regan received a call on her cell phone from Jack, who
told her about the bank robbery. “Any time it rains, this guy strikes. One of the detectives nicknamed him ‘The Drip.’ I think it’s going to stick.”

  “I like that,” Regan commented. “I’ll have to figure out nicknames for the guys we’re looking for.” She filled him in on Tracy’s plight and gave him Jeffrey Woodall’s name and address. Jack said he’d run the name and they agreed to meet at his apartment in a couple of hours. They’d take a ride down to Atlantic City to the casino where Alfred had been gambling the week before, and then come back to New York to survey the area outside Charisse and Alfred’s loft in the hours after midnight.

  “It’s going to be a long night,” Kit commented when Regan hung up the phone.

  “Do you want to go back to my parents’ apartment and take it easy?”

  “Are you kidding? No way. I might meet somebody in Atlantic City.”

  Regan smiled. She knew Kit was joking but she also knew that Kit wished she had a special guy she could bring to the wedding. “Don’t worry. There will be single guys at the reception. Jack has a cousin around our age and a couple of his friends from college will be there.”

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  Regan laughed. “Nothing!”

  Traveling up Broadway they passed a multiplex where all the latest movies were playing, bagel shops, restaurants, mobile phone stores, and nail salons, and then Regan spotted Zabar’s, the famous gourmet marketplace, on the other side of the street. “I’d love to go in there right now. It always smells great.”

  “Work calls!” Kit declared.

  A couple blocks farther north, the cab turned right. The driver slowed the car and moved haltingly until he found the right address. There were handsome brownstones on the small block, but the old and tired brick building they were now staring at wasn’t one of them. Regan paid the fare, and they got out. They approached the front steps and opened the outer door. Regan pushed the buzzer for apartment 4B, the one labeled Beardsley.

  They waited, and then she pushed it again.

  “Who’s there?” a breathless sleepy voice answered.

  “Victoria Beardsley?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Regan Reilly. I’m here on behalf of Alfred and Charisse, who made your wedding gown…”

  “Ohhhhh. Yes. Alfred and Charisse.” Victoria said, dragging out the words.

  Regan looked at Kit quizzically. “May I come up for a moment? I have a letter for you from them.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “They’re all right. There’s a problem with their gowns. I’ll explain it to you if—”

  “I’m in 4B.”

  The buzzer sounded to release the lock on the inner door.

  They walked up the four floors, hearing the everyday sounds of living coming from inside apartments along the way. Rock music, a baby crying, the blare of a television. They passed one apartment where a woman, obviously a professional singer, or at least a fledgling one, was doing her vocal exercises with great gusto.

  “Me me me me me me me me me. Me me me me ME ME ME ME ME. Me Me ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME.”

  “It’s always about you,” Kit muttered.

  Regan grinned and rolled her eyes. “4B must be right here to the left.” They stopped in front of a door which had several locks and more than a few scratches. “Here goes nothing,” Regan whispered as she rang the bell.

  Immediately they could hear the snapping sounds of locks being unbolted. The door opened a crack and a set of snapping brown eyes peered out.

  “Hi there,” Regan said. “I’m Regan Reilly. This is my friend Kit.”

  “Just a moment.” The door shut and the woman released the chain that would have prevented Regan and Kit from storming her apartment. She opened the door again. Barefoot and dressed in a colorful caftan, she waved them in as though she were having a party.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you. Did we wake you?” Regan asked.

  “I was taking a nap,” she said cheerfully. “But I’m up now. I have coffee brewing.”

  Regan and Kit stepped inside the tiny, dark apartment. A kitchenette on the right opened onto a small room with old wooden floors. Regan had the immediate impression that Victoria was not someone who sweated the small stuff when it came to decorating. Bookshelves crammed willy-nilly with books, CDs, tapes, and knickknacks covered one wall. Two different-sized framed posters hung on the opposite wall. The seating area consisted of a beige couch dotted with assorted pillows, one overstuffed chair, and a coffee table weighted down by a small television, more books and tapes, and numerous candles. Two stools were pushed up against the kitchenette counter. A door to what Regan guessed was the bedroom was closed. It was clear that not much light could find its way through the one small window on the far wall, as it faced the brick wall of the next building. In real estate terms, the apartment would be termed “private.”

  “Please come in and sit down,” Victoria said as she hurriedly yanked a blanket off the couch.

  Regan guessed Victoria to be in her early thirties. She had flowing dark curly hair, wide brown eyes, and flawless skin with a perfect flush to her cheeks. Regan was sure she’d look beautiful in one of Alfred’s wedding gowns.

  As Regan and Kit sat on the couch, Regan noticed that the book at the top of the stack on the coffee table was about visualization. CREATE WHAT YOU WANT IN LIFE, it said on the cover. The sleeve of one of the tapes on the table urged the viewer to access their inner peace and power. That’s good, Regan thought. If she values inner peace, let’s hope she takes the news better than Brianne and Tracy.

  Regan explained who she was and what had happened.

  “That’s so sad,” Victoria said. She started to giggle and shake her head. “That’s really terrible.”

  Those tapes must work, Regan thought.

  “I know you must think I’m a little crazy,” Victoria continued as she tried to stop laughing, “but I can just picture how hysterical Alfred must have been.” She cupped her hand to her mouth.

  Regan couldn’t help but laugh herself. “He is a little bent out of shape.”

  Victoria pointed to her tape on inner peace. “I wanted to lend this to him, but he wasn’t interested. He said he enjoys frenzy.”

  “He thrives on it,” Regan agreed. “But I think this is a bit too much frenzy, even for Alfred. He told me you’re getting married in three weeks.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your wedding date?”

  “Oh, yes. That’s right. Three weeks.”

  “Alfred and Charisse are planning to work night and day to replace our dresses.”

  “That’s great.” Victoria shook her head from side to side. “But I don’t want Alfred to have a nervous breakdown. I have a girlfriend’s dress I can wear. It’s beautiful.”

  “Forget it,” Kit cracked. “What will give Alfred a nervous breakdown is if he has to write another refund check.”

  Victoria grabbed Kit’s arm and laughed. “Kit, you’re dead on!”

  This girl loves inner peace and sharing laughs, Regan thought as she laughed, too. “Where are you getting married, Victoria?”

  “Out in the country.”

  “How nice. Where in the country?”

  “Pennsylvania.” Victoria jumped up and sauntered toward the kitchenette, humming loudly as she crossed the room. “Coffee?” she asked.

  Regan and Kit both declined. She doesn’t have to answer my questions, Regan realized. But I sure am curious about her. She’s taking this almost too well. “I can’t imagine your fiancé will be too happy that you have to go through all this worry about your dress.”

  “Oh, my fiancé’s so wonderful. Wonderful. He’s just perfect. He won’t care.” She waved her hand, poured herself a cup of coffee, and floated back to the overstuffed chair. She pulled her feet up under her as she sat back down.

  “Where is he now?” Regan asked.

  “He lives in Pennsylvania. I met him online. It’s so hard to meet men in this city!”r />
  “It’s so hard to meet men anywhere,” Kit said excitedly. “Which dating service did you use?”

  Victoria took a sip of her coffee. “Cupid’s Bow.”

  “I never heard of that one,” Kit said. “And I’ve tried a few. My friend here worries about me when I go on these dates. But I’m careful. Although I haven’t met anyone who’s good for the long term.”

  Victoria leaned over and grabbed Kit’s hand. “I know how hard it is! But you’ll find the right one. I promise. You’ve got to belieeevvve.”

  Regan glanced at the cover of the visualization book. You’ve Got to Believe was the subtitle. She got her money’s worth out of that, too, Regan thought.

  “I belieeevvve,” Kit said jokingly. “It’s okay. Before Regan met Jack she didn’t have it easy, either. And now you both have found the right person.”

  “I certainly have,” Victoria said. Her beautiful face was glowing.

  “The romance with my fiancé was long distance, too,” Regan said. “It’s not easy. I’m glad it’s finally over. Are you moving to Pennsylvania or is your fiancé coming here?”

  Victoria made a sweeping motion with her left arm. “We’re still going to live separately. You know, we’ll visit each other on weekends and holidays.”

  Regan blinked with surprise.

  “Keeps the relationship fresh,” Kit volunteered. “You won’t have the chance to get on each other’s nerves.”

  Victoria waved her coffee cup and leaned forward. “That’s how we feel. We’ll see how this arrangement works and then take it from there. I’ve lived alone for this long, I don’t even know how good I’d be at a relationship twenty-four-seven.” She rolled her eyes self deprecatingly. “I enjoy my job and I love New York.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t want to leave just yet.”

  “I love New York, too,” Regan said “My fiancé lives in Tribeca. That’s where we’ll live for now.”

  “Tribeca is wonderful!” Victoria sighed. “They have such great restaurants and art galleries. It’s so hip down there!”

  Regan smiled. “Jack has a loft apartment that he was lucky enough to get before the prices went too crazy. We both love it.” Regan paused. “Do you work in the city?”