Helen cleared her throat. “We need reinforcements. Vance is expecting trouble—specifically, he’s expecting us. He isn’t expecting Minka or Akiko, and that makes them valuable to what we’re about to do. It also makes them vulnerable. They’re not pros, Billie. They need protection. Besides,” she went on in a reasonable tone, “he isn’t expecting Taverner.”
He was staring down into his tea, his knuckles white where he was gripping the mug. I didn’t say that he looked good, but he did. He’d kept his rangy build. The shoulders were still broad, the hips still narrow. He looked a little softer through the middle, but hell, who didn’t at our age. And he’d kept all his hair although it had gone pure silver, the ends of it curling like they had when he was thirty. I kept up the inventory until I got to his face to find he was watching me watching him and I jerked my attention to Helen.
“What sort of fee did you promise him?” I asked.
“Are you kidding me?” Taverner said suddenly. He looked up and I realized he was angry. Livid, actually.
Helen rose. “I think I’ll give you two a minute,” she said. She slipped out of the room.
“She was always the tactful one,” I said.
“Really? That’s how you’re going to do this?” He shoved his mug away, sloshing a little of the tea over the side.
“I’m not mad at you,” I said calmly. “I’m annoyed with them. I wasn’t even consulted about including you.”
“And including me isn’t exactly your strong suit, is it?” He placed his palms flat on the table and pushed his chair back. He stood and I did the same.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did it ever, for one moment, enter your mind to let me know you weren’t dead?” he demanded.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. It was a full minute before I spoke. “That’s why you’re angry.”
“Angry? I’m not angry, Billie. Angry is when you find out the dry cleaner lost your favorite shirt. What I’m feeling is the sort of emotion you don’t even admit to your confessor. Five days after Christmas I get a call from Sweeney telling me you four are dead. That’s all, just the bare fact of you no longer being in this world. It is now the middle of January,” he said, pointing to the calendar tacked on the wall to make his point. “That’s weeks later. Weeks of thinking you were gone.”
I might have pointed out that all of this could have been avoided if Sweeney had bothered to call him back after I’d made contact and he knew we were alive, but Sweeney had been after the bonus. No way he would have taken the risk of Taverner either taking the job himself or tipping us off. But I figured none of that would make him feel better, so I said something else instead.
“I’m sorry.”
He folded his arms over his chest and gave me a long look. “Do better.”
“I am sorry, Taverner. I didn’t think—”
“No. But then, you never do.”
It was a good line and he was smart enough to use it for his exit. When he’d gone, Helen crept back in. I flapped a hand at her.
“It’s fine, Helen.”
“Is it?”
“No. If this place had a woodchipper I’d feed you to it.”
She sat down and took my hand. “I wish I could have told you, but I knew that wouldn’t be possible. You’d have said no, and it’s a good idea.”
“It is a good idea,” I agreed. “A very good idea. I wish you could have told me too. You can’t just go off on your own—”
“I didn’t,” she said gently.
“Mary Alice?”
“Dialed his number.”
“Natalie?”
“Picked him up from the station this morning.”
“Wow.” I slipped my hand from under hers.
“I know you’re angry. We expected this. We knew we were taking a risk by bringing him in. But we also knew that there is nobody in the world who would be better suited. He’s cool in a crisis, smart, capable. The fact that the two of you have unfinished business—”
I cut her off. “I wouldn’t call it that. We made our choices and we made our peace with it. Decades ago.”
“Yes, I can tell how relaxed you are,” she said mildly.
I made a face at her. “Okay, I’m pissed, but not at you and not because you brought him in. I’m pissed because we’re supposed to be a team and nobody mentioned the idea of bringing him in.”
“And?” She raised a brow.
“And I’m pissed at myself because he thought we were dead. I never thought to tell him otherwise.”
“I know,” she told me. “He was a little surprised to get my call.” A tiny smile touched her lips and I relaxed.
“I feel like a bitch, Helen. It just didn’t occur to me to call him.”
“Lonesome is habit,” she said with a shrug. “One that can be broken.”
She left then and it was probably for the best. I stubbed out my cigarette before I went to find Taverner. He was in the garden, chucking knives at a tree stump. His form was still good, but the fact that he was doing something as visceral as knife throwing meant he was still feeling testy.
“So, I hear you’re into philanthropy now,” I said, coming to sit on the edge of the grass. “Giving away murders, no charge.”
“Well, every fifth murder is free, and I’ve already killed four people this year,” he said.
“Good to keep your hand in,” I agreed. I blew out a breath that sounded ragged and felt worse. “I really am sorry, you know. I should have thought and I didn’t. I guess I’m so used to pushing you out of my mind that I’ve gotten really good at it.”
“Well, that stings,” he said, coming to sit next to me. I handed him a bottle of water. He smelled like clean sweat and something else. Lemons?
“How are the twins?” I managed.
“Grown. Planning their thirtieth-birthday bash. Kate is a television producer living in London and is engaged to a nice young man I don’t much like. Sarah is a garden designer. She married an American and lives in upstate New York. She has twins of her own who just turned three.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “You’re a grandfather?”
“Yes. They call me PeePaw. I hate it.”
“You should. It’s awful. Do you see your grandchildren much if they’re in America?”
He shrugged. “Not as often as I’d like. But they’re busy.”
“What about you?”
“I live in a cottage in Yorkshire, where I bake bread and refinish antiques and shock the neighbors with naked tai chi in the garden.”
“Retirement sounds like it agrees with you.”
He was quiet a long minute. “It’s an adjustment. I have considered freelancing. You know, picking up the odd murder here and there just to keep busy.”
“Oh, so we’re the first. Hey, if you do a good job, you can use us for a reference.”
“I’ll be sure to put that on my CV,” he said. He paused. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Vance. I never much liked him, but I didn’t think he was bent.”
“Me either. He was never my biggest fan, but I understood why. I just feel so . . . stupid. My entire career, all those years, and for what? No pension. Reputation shredded.”
“Hey, you killed some really deserving people. That’s got to be worth something.”
I laughed until I felt the tears gathering in the corner of my eyes.
“God, I needed that. Thank you.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” he said, almost touching my shoulder with his.
“I’m sorry about Beth,” I told him finally.
He nodded. “I got your card. I should have answered it, but with the funeral and all, I never got around to it.”
We were quiet for several minutes and it felt good, being with him. Too good. It was time to get back to business. “We’ve dotted all the i’s, crossed the t’s, Taverner. The plan is solid. We did the work.”
“Yes, you did.”
“So, you’re in.” I didn’t want it to be a question, but I had to know. I kept my voice just neutral enough.
“I’m in,” he said. Something knotted up in my chest started to unravel.
“I know you told Helen you wouldn’t take any money,” I began.
“I’ve never yet killed a woman who didn’t have it coming,” he said lightly. “Don’t make me rethink that.”
“We’re in charge,” I told him. “No going rogue.”
“I get it,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and going to retrieve his knives from the stump. “I’m just the pretty face.”
“And don’t you forget it.” I rose and brushed off the seat of my pants. “So what kind of firepower did you bring?”