Mad About You

canceled, and Lady Mercer would probably receive some token amount from her insurance company."
    "And if it's never found?"
    "Then the owner would have a case for the full value of the insurance policy, twenty-five thousand if I remember correctly, which the insurer will seek to extract from Jellico's." She angled her head toward him. "Is Lady Mercer distraught over the loss?"
    James grimaced—he had never heard more vile words spew from Tania's mouth than when she had returned his call. In rather unladylike terms, she had made it very clear she wanted the American woman who had stolen her chance at worldwide celebrity to perish in prison. "She is rightfully concerned about her investment," he said carefully. "If the letter isn’t recovered, the insurance money won’t even cover the expenses of having the document transported to the States. Detective, did your men fingerprint the compass Kat found at her apartment?"
    "Yep—just Ms. McKray’s prints on it, same as the jewelry, same as the security badge."
    "Were there any fibers on the clothing? Hair?"
    "Just hers."
    "Have you sent anyone to Chinatown to see if the letter is floating around?"
    Tenner picked his teeth. "No, and that's a pretty good idea, except they clam up tighter than a vir—" He looked at Kat. "The Chinese aren't very talkative around the police."
    James glanced at his watch and unfolded himself stiffly from the hard swivel chair. Damn, she'd given him quite a workout this morning. "Call me when you get the warrant and we'll meet you at the Handelman woman's place." He motioned for Kat to bring the remainder of her lunch with her.
    "Where're you going, Donovan? I thought we were working on this together." Tenner looked crestfallen, but James wasn't about to expose his local sources to the man. Kat had walked away to dispose of their trash, so James leaned toward the man and said, "We need some time alone."
    Looking like a wounded dog, Tenner said, "High time to be thinking with your crotch, Donovan. We got a case to solve."
    Smirking, James said, "I'm trained to keep several plates in the air at once, Tenner."
    Tenner frowned as Kat walked up to the table.
    "Ready?" James's gaze raked her glorious figure with appreciation. She was demurely tucked into tailored slacks and a high-collared shirt, topped with a sensible wool jacket. Her hair was fastened back in a tight wad, and her wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. Only a discriminating eye would recognize what lay beneath the plain brown wrapping. Snatches of their morning tumble surfaced in his mind and he suddenly wished they were indeed off to share a romantic tryst.
    Thankfully oblivious to his lusty thoughts, she grabbed her purse. "Where are we going?" she asked when they reached the sidewalk.
    He forced his mind back to the case. The sooner he wrapped up this mess, the sooner he could leave San Francisco. And the sooner he left San Francisco, the sooner he could shake these visions of cold English nights with Kat curled up next to him.
    Ah, New York... a city where he could immerse himself in fun, frivolity, and anonymity for a few weeks. New York would be the perfect place to distract him from these discomfiting thoughts of becoming...what was the word he was looking for? Monogamous. James shuddered.
    "James?" Kat's voice yanked him from his train of thought. "Where are we going?"
    He stared into her blue eyes for several seconds, perturbed by the power she wielded over his psyche. "To resolve this predicament as quickly as possible," he said brusquely. "I have no intention of staying here forever."

Chapter Ten

    KAT WAS SO TROUBLED by James's comment that she nearly plowed into him when he stopped to make a phone call.
    " Who are you calling?"
    "An associate," he said, his tone all business. He turned his body to exclude her from the conversation, but she stepped close and listened anyway, her feelings smarting. Her little theory about the "morning-after syndrome" was kicking in—and apparently the malady was universal.
    "This is Agent James Donovan, on assignment in San Francisco. I need to speak with Antonio, please. The code word is 'Black Mulligan.'...Yes, I'll wait."
    Kat's pulse picked up. Code word? Did they really say stuff like that?
    "Antonio? Agent James Donovan here. Good to speak with you again too. I'm in town looking into the disappearance of a piece of fine art, and have reason to believe it may have been sold on the black market....Yes....Very good.