Three Fates

take a bit of time off to enjoy your acquisition?”
    “Business first, always.”
    Now, Gideon thought as he watched his sister lower the screen of her laptop, it was all in the timing. They’d soon see how well Cleo had choreographed the scene. He tucked his thumbs in his belt loops, tapped his fingers on the front pockets of his jeans.
    On cue, Malachi glanced over. “Well, for Christ’s sake,” he said and frowned at Anita. “We’ve company. Let me handle her.”
    “Who?”
    “Tia.” Malachi let the warmth pour into his voice as he got to his feet. “What a happy coincidence.”
    “Malachi.” She stuttered a little, and it was the excitement of the moment as much as the part she was playing that brought the flush to her cheeks. “I didn’t know you were back in New York.”
    “Only just. I was going to ring you later today; now you’ve saved me the price of the call.” He leaned in, pressed his cheek to hers and lifted his brows at Anita.
    “I just came in to do some research on my book.” She clutched her briefcase to her breasts. “I never expected to . . .” Tia trailed off, looked startled. “Anita?”
    “Of course, you know each other.” Malachi’s voice lifted, with just enough of a frantic edge to have heads turning irritably in their direction. “I asked Ms. Gaye to meet me here to discuss . . . ah, to discuss a potential purchase for my offices.”
    “Oh. I see.” She looked from one face to the other, her eyes wide and hurt. As if she did see, and very well. “Well, I . . . I don’t mean to interrupt. As I said, I was just . . . Oh, are you reading about the Fates?”
    She leaned over, a bit clumsily, to turn the book, and effectively blocked Anita’s view.
    Rebecca strolled up, switched cases smoothly and continued by the table. She spared a quick wink for Gideon, gripped firmly the handle of the briefcase that held the Fates and walked out of the reading room, toward the stairs and down.
    “Just passing the time.” Malachi tapped Anita’s phone when he saw the call light blinking. “I think you’ve a call coming in, Anita.”
    “Excuse me.” She picked up the phone. “Anita Gaye.”
    “I, ah, should get to work.” Tia stepped back. “It was nice to see you again, Malachi. It was . . . well, good-bye.”
    “Shattered her maiden’s dreams.” Laughing lightly, Anita disconnected the call. “The transfer’s complete, so . . .”
    She reached down for the case, and for the second time Malachi closed a hand over her wrist. “Not quite so fast, darling. I’ll just verify that for myself.”
    He took out his own phone and, as if to confirm what Rebecca had already verified, called Cleo in the van.
    “I need to confirm an electronic transfer of funds,” he stated curtly. “Yes, I’ll wait.”
    “Rebecca’s just getting in the van. Jack should be at Anita’s with Detective Gilbert. They got the search warrant.”
    “Yes, thank you. I’ll give you the account number.”
    “Mal, Rebecca. Jack e-mailed me from his PalmPilot. His friend Detective Robbins is going to bring Anita in for questioning on the murders. He should be at Morningside by now. With the other cop at her house, she’s nowhere to go. And here’s Tia now, just coming out of the library.”
    “Excellent. Thank you very much.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket. “That seems to be that.” He got to his feet, handing her the briefcase. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure.”
    “You’re a fool, Malachi.” Anita rose. “Worse, you’re a fool who thinks small. I’ll turn what’s in this case into the biggest story in a decade. Hell, in a century. Enjoy your ten million. Before I’m done, that’ll be petty cash.”
    “A nasty piece, that one,” Gideon commented as she clipped away.
    “Oh well, ever since that house fell on her sister, she’s been out of sorts. Let’s give her a minute or two to start up her broomstick before we go see all our girls.”
     
     
    THE BROOMSTICK MIGHT have been a New York City cab, but Anita was very near cackling. Everything she wanted—money, power, position, fame, respect—was tucked in the briefcase beside her.
    It was Paul’s money that had brought her this far. But it would be hers that took her the rest of the way. She was, now, as far away from that row house in Queens as she had ever been.
    Inspired, she flipped out her phone to call her butler and arrange for champagne and caviar to be waiting for her in her sitting