“Please tell her we say thanks,” Jane said.
“I will. She’s quite remarkable.”
“We’d like to meet her one day,” Roger said.
“Maybe, who knows. But she is quite timid.”
The chief said, “Well, she solved the case that we couldn’t. Sounds like the FBI should hire her.”
“They would love to. Look, I’m sorry to deliver this news, but I thought you would want to know. You have my phone number if you have any questions.”
Guff said, “Oh, I’m sure we’ll have a thousand questions.”
“Anytime, but I can’t promise all the answers.”
Lacy was ready to go. They thanked her again and again, and walked her to the car where Allie was waiting.
* * *
—
Late in the afternoon, the resort was hopping with music from the bars, a rowdy volleyball game in the sand, kids splashing in the pool. A reggae band tuned up under some palm trees. Sailboats crisscrossed the crystal blue water in the distance.
Lacy had enough of the sun and wanted to go for a walk. At the point, they happened upon a wedding being organized around a small chapel on the sand. Guests were arriving and sipping champagne.
“What a lovely chapel,” she said. “Not a bad place for a wedding.”
“It’s nice,” Allie said.
“I have it reserved for September the twenty-seventh. Are you busy that day?”
“Uh, well, I don’t know. Why?”
“You can be so slow at times. That’s the day we’re getting married. Right here. I’ve already paid the deposit.”
He took her hand and pulled her closer. “What about the proposal and all that?”
“I just proposed. Evidently, you couldn’t do it. And I’ll take that ring now.”
He laughed and kissed her. “Why don’t you just go ahead and buy one yourself since you’re taking charge?”
“I’ve thought about it, but that’s left for you. And I like oval diamonds.”
“Okay. I’ll get right on it. Anything else I should know?”
“Yes. I picked that date because it gives us four months to wrap up our careers and begin our new life. I’m quitting. You’re quitting. It’s either me or the FBI.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
He laughed, kissed her again, and then laughed some more. “I’ll stick with you.”
“Good answer.”
“And I’m sure the honeymoon is planned.”
“It is. We’re leaving for a month. We’ll start on the Amalfi Coast in Italy, bum around there, take trains to Portofino, Nice, southern France, maybe end up in Paris. We’ll play it by ear and decide as we go.”
“I like it. And when we come back?”
“If we come back, then we’ll figure out the next chapter.”
A barefoot groomsman in Bermuda shorts, pink shirt, and bow tie walked over with two glasses of champagne and said, “Join the party. We need more guests.”
They took the champagne, found seats in the back row, and felt right at home watching two complete strangers exchange vows.
Lacy was already taking notes on how she would do things differently.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When last seen in The Whistler, Lacy Stoltz was recovering from injuries and struggling with her future. I’ve thought a lot about her since then and always wanted to bring her back for one more adventure. I could not, however, find a story that would equal such a dramatic success as her first, until I found a judge who’s also a murderer.
You gotta love fiction.
As I point out in one of the few accurate parts of the book, every state has its own way of dealing with complaints against judges. In Florida, the Judicial Qualifications Commission has been doing a fine job since 1968. The Board on Judicial Conduct does not exist.
Many thanks to Mike Linden, Jim Lamb, Tim Heaphy, Lauren Powlovich, Neal Kassell, Mike Holleman, Nicholas Daniel, Bobby Moak, Wes Blank, and Talmage Boston.
John Grisham