Heaven's Fire (41 page)

"
You bet! I did my chemo, and I worked. I threw up, and I worked. My hair fell out, and I worked. Eventually, I was done with treatment, and my hair grew back, and I was still working. As far as everybody else was concerned, it was all over."

"
And for you?
"

"
Me?
"
She smiled. "I crashed and burned. I’d been so busy playing ‘the best darn cancer patient’ that I hadn’t really taken time to figure out what it meant to
me
.

"So there I was scrawny, sans breasts. My hair was now curly and reddish, instead of blonde. But those were just the physical changes. It's hard to describe, but I felt
--
still
feel
...temporary. Do you know what I mean?"

Simon knew. Most people in law enforcement knew. "We're all temporary. The majority of us just have the luxury of forgetting most of the time."

She looked thoughtful, and Simon pulled her over to him.
"
So what did you do?
"

"
Got myself a damn good therapist.
"

That was good to know. Simon thought she might need one, given what had happened last night.
"
And quit reporting?
"

Jake nodded.
"
I couldn't keep jumping in and out of people's lives. I needed to maintain some distance. Gwen was very good about it, I have to give her that."

"
That and the fact she didn’t fire you for abandoning your post.
"

"
She got an exclusive with the heroes of the day—you and me. Why should she fire me?
"

Simon was quiet. Jake twisted around to look at him.
"
Something on your mind?
"

Simon shifted uncomfortably.
"
The cancer. You do get check-ups regularly, right? Mammograms or something?
"

Jake laughed and flashed her chest at him.
"
No mamms to gram, I’m afraid.
"

Wonder of wonders, Simon blushed. But he wasn’t going to let her get away without answering.
"
You do get checked?
"

Jake held her hand up oath-like.
"
Regularly, I swear. I may be flip, but I’m not stupid.
"

She snuggled back in and Simon sniffed her damp hair.
"
Is that the bouquet of ‘pooly fuisse' I detect?
"

Jake grinned. "You’re just trying to one-up my ‘mamms to gram.’
"

"
It was way too good,
"
Simon admitted.
"
I couldn’t let you get away with it.
"

Speaking of getting away.
"
So why were you called into the office?
"

"
Cruise had finished going over Firenze’s books.
"

"
And?
"
Jake prompted.

"
And it turns out there was a steady drain of funds from their account over the last six months. Small amounts at first, culminating in the fifteen grand from the Refresh Yourself show for a total of nearly fifty thousand dollars.
"

Jake whistled. "No wonder Angela had her undies in a bundle. What was he doing with it?"

"The tracking numbers lead to all sorts of quasi-medical sites, selling what looks to me like a bunch of questionable remedies and treatments for Alzheimer's. The last payment, the $15,000, went to some research facility in France.
"

"And in the end, Alzheimer's didn't kill Pasquale after all. His loving daughter killed him."

"
Along with Ray,
"
Simon added,
"
who apparently discovered that crumpled contract Cruise found stuck in the front pocket of the binder and decided Pasquale was stealing from his own company. He showed it to Angela, who suddenly realized the extent of her father’s problem and realized he could decimate the company.
"

"
But why kill Ray?
"

"
He was going to blow the whistle, at least within the family. Angela couldn’t have that.
"

"
By why? Pasquale would have gotten help.
"

"
Not the kind of help Pasquale wanted. Or that Angela wanted for him.
"

"
There was something else Angela wanted,
"
Jake ventured.

Simon kissed the top of her head.
"
That would be me?
"

"
’t would be. Think about it: Everything in Angela's well-ordered world was falling apart." Jake looked up at Simon. "So she decided to trade it all in for you. Her fantasy knight in shining armor."

Simon kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Her goal may have been understandable, but her methods sucked."

"Big-time," Jake agreed, tucking herself under Simon's chin.

Silence, then:
"
He was in that blue shell.
"

Jake pulled back.
"
Who?
"

"
Pasquale.
"

Umm.
"
In a ‘God is everywhere’ kind of sense?
"

"
No. Literally. Pasquale’s ashes were in the last shell.
"

"
The one Angela fell on?
"
Jake was still trying to understand this.

"
A devoted daughter," Simon said, dryly.

"
Sick. I think I’d rather have a faithful dog.
"

"
Hey,
I
have a faithful dog. You can share.
"

Jake tilted her head up and kissed him.
"
You and that faithful dog of yours are going to need to find a place of your own eventually, you know,
"
she said gently.

"
Yup.
"

And that’s all he said.

Jake’s head was on Simon’s chest so she could feel his heart beating, but that was the only outward sign that he was alive.

They just sat there like that until she finally cleared her throat.
"
Listen, it’s not that I don‘t--

"
You know,
"
Simon interrupted,
"
this room could use a coat of paint. I’m thinking ‘Too Beige, or Not Too Beige’ maybe, or...
"

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