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"Dammit!" Time was flying, and Conor's gut told him that from now on every second counted. "Beckman," he growled, "get out of my way."
"Why would you think your father would know anything about Moratelli?"
"I just told you why. Because my old man was a cop. He used to work the streets where—"
"Where what?"
Conor took a breath. "Where you can dig up information on low-lifes like Vince."
Miranda's eyes fixed on his. "I know there's more to it. And now you want me to stay here like a good little girl, all by myself, while you play detective."
"You won't be alone. I've told you that. I've arranged for security until I get back. It's already in place. You heard the call I made, and the confirming one that came in, a little while ago."
"Do you ever listen to yourself? The way you spoke to whoever it was you telephoned—"
"An associate," Conor said. Hell, it wasn't a lie. Thurston was an associate, in a way.
"And the words that trip off your tongue. Contacts. Associates. Security." She made a face, as if she'd smelled something unpleasant. "There are times you sound like an actor in a bad spy movie!"
"Will you calm down?"
"I am calm. I am very calm. I'm just tired of being lied to."
"I haven't—"
"Oh, please, spare us both that wide-eyed routine! You haven't been honest with me and I know it."
He knew he was supposed to deny it, assure her he was second cousin to an Eagle Scout, but he wouldn't. No more lying, not after Eva gave him some answers.
"Miranda," he said softly. He took hold of her shoulders, feeling the rigidity in her body. "Sweetheart, you're right. There are things I haven't told you."
"Then tell me now."
"I can't." She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn't let her. "But I promise, I'll tell you tonight."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
She sighed, and he felt some of the tension ease out of her.
"No more lies, Conor." The anger in her words was gone, replaced by a weariness that almost broke his heart. "Please."
He took her face between his hands and raised it to his.
"Trust me one last time," he said, "that's all I ask."
She looked up. His eyes were steady on hers and filled with promises enough to last a lifetime. She smiled tremulously and he kissed her. Then he undid the locks on the door and picked up the manila envelope with the photograph inside.
"Yabba Dabba Doo."
"Yabba Dabba Doo?" she said and, just as he'd hoped, her smile warmed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you lock the door after me, put the chain on and don't open it for anybody or anything, unless you hear those words. I'll be back before you know it."
He kissed her again, and then he was gone.
* * *
