14

Fifty-Two

Nashville, Tennessee Saturday, December 27 4:00 p.m.

Taylor and Baldwin were finished packing and were waiting on a cab to take them to the airport. The preparations were effortless-their suitcases were ready to go from the previous Saturday and all they needed to do was throw in their overnight bags, catch a cab to the airport and disappear.

Baldwin was pacing around the front of the house, staring out the windows. Taylor was sitting at the dining-room table, sipping a cup of tea. She could not wait to get out of town, away from all the mess.

Her father had been arraigned on several charges, including embezzlement, bribery and RICO statutes. All white-collar crimes. He’d be going to a nice little prison where he could wear chinos and drink coffee out of real cups instead of Styrofoam. Taylor didn’t care; she was just happy he was being punished for his role in L’Uomo’s businesses.

Conrad Hawley, the A.G. of New York, had quietly resigned when the Nashville police let him know they had a tape of him having sex with an underage illegal who was being forced into prostitution. He was not so quietly being indicted this week, along with a slew of other men who’d been captured on the multitudes of videotapes. Identifications were still being made on many of the participants.

Jane Macias had returned to her home in Long Island, obviously jaded about Nashville. Taylor couldn’t blame her. Being that close to a serial predator, knowing you were next, wasn’t easy. Her expose on L’Uomo was being published by the New York Times.

Snow White had been buried next to his daughter and wife in a private cemetery in north Nashville. His son, Joshua, kept the house, though a full-time nurse was needed to care for him.

Frank Richardson’s family was developing a journalism scholarship in his honor. Daphne Beauchamp had been hired to run the foundation.

The many victims of Snow White and his apprentice were lauded in several articles written by the Tennessean. The world looked on as the cases were dissected and ultimately solved. Giselle, Glenna, Elizabeth and Candace had all been in the bar called Control. Their faces would haunt Taylor’s dreams.

The apprentice disappeared.

Taylor mulled over all of these developments. The past few days had been crazy, to say the least. But it was time for them to go away now.

Baldwin stopped pacing and came to her in the dining room, putting one hand over hers as she set her tea mug down.

“So, what do we do about getting married?”

Taylor shook her head. “We don’t. I think that was all a sign.”

“We don’t, ever?”

She stood, pointing out the window. The cab had arrived at last. “Let’s just go take our honeymoon. We can talk all this out over there.”

Baldwin smiled, leaned in for a kiss. “Whatever you say, Taylor.”