Mister X

46

New York, the present

The office door opened and closed, admitting a surge of warm air that mixed with the only slightly cooler air provided by the valiantly struggling air conditioner.

"You're late," Quinn said.

Pearl glanced at her watch: 9:22. She didn't bother answering Quinn, but instead walked to her desk and sat down. There was an erectness of posture and a quickness in her step that meant something.

Anger?

Fedderman and Addie Price were at Fedderman's desk, Addie standing and peering over Fedderman's shoulder at his computer screen.

Quinn, seated at his own desk, had already dispatched Vitali and Mishkin to step up their search for both Chrissie Kellers, and they had left in their unmarked car.

Pearl began shuffling through papers on her desk and rearranging items on its surface. She was in one of her moods and obviously wasn't going to say anything. It appeared that something profound had happened.

The office was warm and smelled faintly of cigar smoke (Quinn falling victim to his secret vice). The air conditioner had cycled and was down to a barely audible hum. There was even a lull in the background sound of traffic outside. The silence was becoming so thick it threatened to solidify like concrete.

Fedderman cleared his throat. "Rough night, Pearl?"

Pearl stopped what she was doing and looked over at him as if he'd spoken a foreign language.

"Those look like tea bags under your eyes," Fedderman said, by way of explanation.

Pearl shrugged and ignored Fedderman, returning to her work.

Quinn grew more curious. He stood and walked over to the coffee brewer set up on the corner table. Casually, he poured two mugs of coffee, one for himself and one for Pearl in her initialed mug. He added powdered cream to hers, the way he knew she liked it, and carried both mugs over to her desk. He set hers on a cork Kiss Me Kate coaster near her computer keyboard.

He took a sip of his own coffee. It was too damned hot and burned his tongue.

"Something wrong?" he asked Pearl.

She looked up at him and smiled, surprising him.

"Something right." She held out her left hand.

He saw the diamond on her ring finger, but at first didn't comprehend its meaning.

He did know he'd misinterpreted Pearl's silence, and her mood.

Addie Price had walked over from Fedderman's desk and was examining the ring from about five feet away. She was smiling, too.

"You're engaged!" she said.

Pearl beamed and bobbed her head in a yes.

Quinn thought, Uh-oh!

Fedderman had stood up and wandered over. "Congratulations, Pearl," he said sincerely.

Pearl thanked him.

Quinn and Addie joined in with their congratulations.

"So that's why you were late this morning," Fedderman said.

Here was a remark that could be taken in different ways, but Pearl let it slide.

"And the lucky man is?" Addie asked, as if she were hosting a quiz show. Everyone there could guess even though they had a hard time believing.

"Yancy Taggart," Pearl said.

There! It was true. Out in the open and everyone would just have to get used to it

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then Quinn said, "Congratulations to Yancy, too."

"When's the wedding?" Addie asked.

Pearl noticed that Addie had changed positions with Fedderman and was now standing near Quinn. "We haven't decided on a date yet. It'll probably be in Las Vegas."

"A gamble," Quinn muttered.

"What?" Pearl asked sharply.

"Nothing," Quinn said. "Talking to myself."

He looked again at her left ring finger and figured the diamond for at least a full carat-if it was real. Who could tell, with a fiance like Yancy Taggart?

"Very nice ring," he said.

"I think so," Pearl said.

Fedderman offered his hand for Pearl to shake.

Addie moved closer and kissed her on the cheek. "Well, I think it's wonderful!"

"I do, too!" Pearl said.

Quinn sent forth a smile and nodded, but Pearl caught the hurt expression in his eyes and felt a stab of…something. Guilt? Sympathy?

Regret?

No, damn it! Not regret!

"While our happy world spins on," Quinn said, "so does Chrissie Keller's and the Carver's."

"Anything I need to know?" asked the latecomer Pearl.

Quinn thought there was plenty, but said, "Sal and Harold are working the Chrissie disappearance. We were going to coordinate witness statements on the Joyce House murder and follow up on anything that doesn't coincide."

"Think Renz would want it done that way?" Pearl asked. She knew the wily commissioner would prefer to have his NYPD minions, Vitali and Mishkin, working the actual murder cases rather than searching for the Chrissie Kellers.

"He's not running the investigation in the field," Quinn said. "I am."

Pearl understood Quinn's thinking. For more than the obvious reasons, he was determined to stay in charge of the investigation. The closer he was to the Carver murders, the more control he'd have over what knowledge flowed to Renz. Knowledge was leverage, and who knew when that might be needed?

"It's all the same case," Quinn said. "Or Renz wouldn't have assigned us Sal and Harold. And Addie."

Pearl decided that Addie, now seated on the corner of Fedderman's desk, was definitely looking at Quinn in a contemplative manner. Putting on quite a leg show, too.

With Pearl engaged, Quinn had become fair game, and he might welcome solace. Addie knew Quinn was hopelessly stuck on Pearl, and he'd feel injured and rejected. She, seemed ready to play the rebound.

Well, it was nothing to Pearl.

So she told herself. Quinn was so obsessive and tunnel-visioned when he was on the hunt, he would never be able to see or defend against the obvious ploys of a woman like Addie operating on the periphery of his attention. Busy stalking his own quarry, he would be easy prey for her.

So go to it, Addie, and good luck. It's all the same to me.

But Pearl couldn't deny the stirring in her heart and mind. The subtle anger and…possessiveness?

My God, jealousy?

She told herself she had nothing to be possessive or jealous about. Quinn didn't belong to her in any way. And, more importantly, she didn't belong to him.

Damn it, she didn't!