Foxy Roxy Part 40

Roxy took off after Henry. Without a car, he couldn't get far.

She ran. He had a block's head start. Roxy ran past Bradshaw's, and a couple of guys came out onto the street.

"What's up?"

Roxy didn't answer, because she was gaining on Henry.

She ran him down and tackled him like a freight train. It was very satisfying to smash his face into a pothole. For Kaylee. For Julius. For Sage.

In an instant, she was surrounded by men from Bradshaw's, all ready to help. One sat on Henry's legs. Another punched him in the head when he tried to get up.

She'd call for the police in a minute. First she thought she'd like to break his nose and maybe a couple of teeth before he went to jail. The guys around her didn't hold her back.

30.

On a cold but brilliantly sunny afternoon in November, Fair Weather Village held an open house to celebrate its new reflection garden. The weather was so bitter, however, that all the residents of the nursing home remained indoors to eat their coconut cake from the comfort of their wheelchairs.

Except for Dorothy Richardson-Hyde.

To attend the garden's dedication, Dorothy lay in a wheeled hospital bed among the trees, wrapped in blankets. In a coma.

Roxy Abruzzo and her daughter Sage sat on the stone bench beside the motionless bed, admiring the centerpiece of the garden-seven feet of marble statue of a Greek gentleman who had a perfect physique and a n.o.ble, distant look in his eye. The statue stood among some newly planted bushes and a pretty reflecting pool. In the spring, flowers would bloom around his feet, and songbirds would probably p.o.o.p on his magnificent shoulders.

"He doesn't look as if he minded his bath in the river," Roxy said. Thinking about the arduous job of locating the statue and carefully salvaging him from the river, she said a silent thank-you to Flynn and his father. They'd risked very cold temperatures and high waters to pull the treasure from his temporary resting place. Only a few nicks in the marble hinted at the statue's short sojourn in the Allegheny. And the public had been none the wiser that the priceless antiquity even existed, let alone spent a few weeks soaking in the water.

"The river might have done him some good," Sage agreed. "He looks cleaner. But how long do you think it will take these old folks to get upset and put a loincloth on him? To cover up his shocking parts?"

"I don't know." Roxy put her face up to absorb some of the meager autumn sunlight. "From the talk at the cake cutting, some of those old biddies are still frisky. They might like to leave him the way he is."

Sage slung her arm affectionately around Roxy's shoulders. "Do you mind too much, Mom? Giving up this statue?"

"No, I don't mind. I've been broke before. Giving up the statue doesn't feel much different."

"Okay, thanks." Sage smiled. "I got to thinking about all the stuff Arden said about important art going back to the country of origin. All her talk about heritage and museums and unscrupulous collectors made me worry that-well, it's a tough decision. So Mrs. Hyde should make the choice about what happens to Achilles."

"If she wakes up."

"Yeah, there's that to consider."

They both turned to study the slack face of Dorothy Hyde. She looked peaceful. Except for a little wrinkle between her eyebrows that Roxy hadn't noticed earlier. The rest of her lay very still, wrapped like a mummy in a swaddle of warm blankets.

"If she doesn't wake up," Roxy said, "I can always come back and get him, right?"

"Mom!"

Roxy grinned and patted her daughter's leg. "What about your friend Arden? What happened to her?"

"Sad, huh? Her overdose? But I hear she's gone into rehab with her mother. That might be a good thing."

"Too bad her mother is getting divorced. The newspapers say Quentin Hyde is cutting her loose so he can marry his brother's widow."

"Monica, yes," Sage said. "I read in the newspaper they're going to Beijing for their honeymoon."

"Or to invest in cell phone towers in China. Maybe I should buy some stock in that company. It'll help pay Nooch's legal bill for a couple more years."

"Sorry his probation hearing didn't go well."

"He didn't seem to mind. He'll keep working for me."

The door to the nursing home's party room opened, and Flynn came out into the sunlight. On a Sunday afternoon, he had the day off and looked relaxed. Even a little attractive in an old-high-school-flame kinda way. He sauntered across the patio, balancing two plates of coconut cake in one hand, and Roxy wondered if it was the cake that was so appealing or maybe the way Flynn's jeans clung to his hips.

He pa.s.sed a piece of cake to Sage and kept the second.

He glanced down at Dorothy Hyde. "Think the old lady might wake up and want some cake?"

"Give it to me instead," Roxy said.

But at that moment Rooney burst out from under some shrubbery and ran across the garden, intent on a rabbit that skipped ahead of him. The bunny seemed to be teasing rather than running for its life. Sage must have thought the dog might catch the rabbit, though, because she handed her cake to Roxy and took off running after the dog.

Roxy watched her run-a perfect girl with a bright future ahead of her. Without a bun in the oven.

Roxy said, "I've made some mistakes in my life, but one of the best things that's ever happened to me is Sage. I've never thanked you for that, have I? For giving her to me?"

"I don't remember any thanking, no." Flynn sat down on the bench beside her. "A lot of screaming and cursing, but no thanks. Not even for letting you be on top now and then."

"Admit it. You thought me on top meant I wouldn't get pregnant."

"Lesson learned." Darkly, Flynn added, "I hope Zack knows better."

"Thanks for pitching in on her school fees, too. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

It felt a little odd to be sitting there, talking calmly to Patrick Flynn after so many years. Oddly comfortable, yet with a tingle of uncertainty, too. He wasn't like her father, Roxy reminded herself. Or Uncle Carmine. No, Flynn had almost become the kind of man a sensible woman might be glad to have around.

Too bad Roxy wasn't sensible.

She said, "I appreciate the other thing you did, to help get Sage safe."

"It's the kind of thing I do best-mayhem with guns."

"It's not the only thing you do well."

He glanced down at her, brows raised. "What are you saying?"

"You can cook. You make a decent cup of coffee. You've grown up into somebody I don't mind a.s.sociating with my daughter."

"What about a.s.sociating with you?"

"Forget it. You've got a girlfriend. And I keep myself busy."

"Yeah, I know. Too busy. You're working for Carmine, I hear. And G.o.d knows what else you're up to. Probably stealing more statues."

Sage returned with Rooney in tow, her face flushed and happy. She grabbed her plate and began to eat cake. "What are you talking about? Stealing this statue all over again?"

Flynn laughed. "I think that's exactly what she's thinking about!"

Beside them on her bed, Dorothy Hyde popped one eye open. In a clear voice, she said, "Over my dead body."

ALSO BY NANCY MARTIN.

Murder Melts in Your Mouth.

Crazy Little Thing Called Death.

Have Your Cake and Kill Him Too.

Cross Your Heart and Hope to Die.

Some Like It Lethal.

Dead Girls Don't Wear Diamonds.

How to Murder a Millionaire.

end.