Mona Lisa Eyes (Danny Logan Mystery #4) (43 page)

I smiled
and nodded as I reached for Toni’s hand. Life
is what it is.

E
pilogue

November 28, 2012

11:30 a.m.

MY FEET WERE PROPPED UP ON
my desk on a
cloudy, rainy afternoon as I read the
Seattle Times
sports
section coverage of the Seattle Marathon this past weekend. I’
d worked my butt off for months in preparation for
the race, and now that it was over, by God,
I was relaxing—no more competition for me until next
February. I looked at the story in the paper about
the race. I’d pushed as hard as I possibly
could for the whole race, and it paid off big-time. I had a personal best of 1:11 flat—good
enough for fifth place overall and first in my age
group. Which is kind of a funny concept—“age group.”
Not that I mind getting beat by four guys, the
oldest of whom is twenty-two. But this was the
first time I’ve run as a thirty-something-year-old. Me, Danny Logan, now a member of the senior
division. Holy crap. Toni says I’m aging well, but
I’m guessing I’m going to have to work
harder and harder as time passes, just to stay competitive.
Well, I made a pact with myself. I’m going
to continue measuring my performance against the “Overall” and not
against the “Old Farts.” Least until I can’t keep
up anymore.

“Kenny dropped this off.” I lowered the paper
and saw Toni standing in the doorway, holding an envelope.
She looked ravishing in faded blue jeans with the knees
torn out and a purple Husky hoodie. She’d gone
dramatic on the eye makeup this morning, and the effect
was striking.

“Open it,” I said. She did, and reading
it quickly, she started to chuckle.

I reached for it. “
Let me see.”

To:
Danny Logan

From:
Kenny Hale

RE:
Special Agent Position

Danny:

Since I’ve been made
Special Agent, I’ve had a broken nose, I wrecked
my car, and I got shot. I think that it
’s probably best for all of us if I resign
my Special Agent position and return to my Director of
Technology position starting immediately. Is this a problem?

P.S
. Mission accomplished with Meghan.

I laughed. “This is classic. Kenny
’s throwin’ in the towel.”

Toni nodded. “Kind of hard
to blame him. He’s not the luckiest guy in
the world.” She leaned in and looked over my shoulder
at the letter. “What’s this ‘mission accomplished’ thing mean
?”

I smiled. Kenny’d asked me not to tell anyone
, so I hadn’t. I shrugged. “Maybe it means they
’re getting serious.”

She looked for a second longer, then
she said, “Huh.” She shook her head and stood back
.

Just then, we both heard the front door open. We
weren’t expecting anyone.

“Shall we?” I said, standing up
.

We walked out to the lobby to see Doc speaking
to a man in a sharp-looking dark blue suit
. A second later, who else but Nicki Thoms walked through
the doorway. A very distinguished-looking couple followed her. The
man wore a black, pinstriped suit and was fit, probably
in his late sixties, early seventies. The woman had the
same dark hair as Nicki. She was very pretty, but
much younger than the man—I’d say mid-to
late forties. Right behind them was Cecilia Thoms.

The distinguished
-looking man surveyed the room as he entered. Then, seeing
us, he stepped forward. “Would you be Danny Logan?” He
had a thick British accent.

I nodded. “Yes sir, I
am. And you must be Sir Jacob Thoms. I recognize
you from your pictures.”

He nodded. “Indeed. I understand from
my sister that you wish to—” he turned and looked
at Cecilia, then back at me, “—straighten me out?”

Uh
-oh. I looked quickly at Cecilia, then at Nicki, and
then back to Sir Jacob. They were hard to read
. Oh well, what the hell. “Uh, yes. I actually told
your sister that if you were going to give her
any grief over something that she had nothing to do
with, then yes, she was to send you to me
.” I stood up straight, stretching out to my full six
feet and one inch. Sir Jacob was still two inches
taller.

“Well,” he said, and then he suddenly smiled. This
was apparently the signal for the rest of them and
they all smiled as well. “I don’t suppose that
will be necessary.” He turned to Cecilia. “Right, Cecie?”

I
let out a slow breath.

“Sorry, Danny,” Cecilia said. “Despite
my brother’s rather fearsome reputation, he’s always been
a bit of a prankster.”

Sir Jacob stepped forward and
extended his hand. “Allow me to thank you for your
service to my family. As I understand it, were it
not for you and your team, this case would not
have been solved and we still wouldn’t know who
was responsible for my daughter’s murder.”

I reached forward
and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir. I only wish
the resolution would have been less bittersweet.”

He nodded. “As
do we all, young man, as do we all. But
that’s something that we’re all going to have
to figure out how to deal with on our own
, isn’t it?” He smiled. “But we shall. We always
do.”

“That’s good.”

Sir Jacob turned to Toni and
smiled. “And you must be the American version of Tony
Blair. Please allow me to introduce my wife, Allesandra.”

After
the introductions, we learned that Sir Jacob had flown in
late yesterday. Both Nicki and Cecilia were returning to London
with Sir Jacob and Allesandra for an indefinite period.

“I
’m hoping we can convince them both to stay home
with us now,” Allesandra said.

“And,” Sir Jacob said, “along
those lines, we wanted to extend an invitation to the
two of you. Next time you’re in London, we
’d like you to be our guests—stay at our
home.”

“Wow,” I said, genuinely shocked. “That’s very gracious
of you.”

“That’s right, Sir Jacob,” Toni said, beaming
. “You should be careful about just throwing things like that
out there. You’re likely to find us on your
doorstep sooner than you might expect.”

He smiled. “My dear
, first off, I don’t ‘throw things out there.’ Second
, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t
mean it. We shall expect to see you soon. Furthermore
,” he reached into his jacket pocket. “Cecie tells me that
you worked for a couple of extra weeks on our
behalf, never once asking for payment. Allow me to square
things between us. You’ll find a modest bonus as
well. I believe in rewarding people when they do a
job well.”

I smiled. “Sir, this is unnecessary.”

“Mr. Logan
, we had a business deal, my family and your organization
. I assure you that full recompense for your work is
not only necessary, but it’s quite proper.” He smiled
. “Besides, I just wrote a check this morning for twenty
-five million to the Beatrice Thoms Memorial Foundation to replace
the funds the accountants are saying my brother-in-law
filched from our donors. We’ll be notifying each of
them and hoping to retain their trust by stepping forward
and doing the right thing. Believe me when I assure
you that this little payment to your firm is not
only invisible compared to the larger payout, but unlike that
one, it’s for a job well done, and that
makes it satisfactory as well.” He paused. “And,” he said
, quietly, “I must add I find your rates to be
quite the bargain. I have no idea how you manage
to stay in business charging so little, but who knows
,” he said, glancing at Nicki. “I may find myself in
a position one day where I could use your services
again.”

“Oh, thanks, father,” Nicki said.

I smiled. “Thank you
, sir.”

“Thank you so much, Sir Jacob,” Toni said.

After
a few more minutes of pleasantry, they said their good
-byes and left.

Toni turned to me. “Wow, can you
believe that? That doesn’t happen every day.”

“Pretty cool
, huh?”

Toni turned to Doc. “What about you and Pri
? You want to go?”

“Humph. I think it rains almost
as much in London as it does here. If Pri
and I ever get time off at the same time
, we’re going home to New Mexico. God’s country
.”

I nodded. “Understood.” I turned to Toni. “Guess it’ll
just be the two of us, then.”

Suddenly, the front
door swung open, and Nicki popped in. “Just wanted to
say bye.” She smiled. “And no effin way I’m
staying in London. I’ll be back soon.” She winked
, and then she was gone.

THE END

(for now . . . )

A
uthor
’s Notes

In my research into the history of the Seattle area, I constantly find old black-and-white photos—snapshots of people taken fifty, seventy-five, even one hundred years ago. For the most part, these people are long gone, yet in the photos they’re frozen in time, forever young. I look at the people in the pictures, and I wonder: What was their story? What were they up to? What became of them? Aside from the hundred-year separation—a simple shift of the calendar—was there really any difference between us? In other words, it’s fair to say that they strike me in the same way they hit Danny and Toni in the story. Then, not too long ago when I happened to see a modern photo of a pretty young actress with particularly striking eyes (thankfully, not deceased, and don’t bother asking who because I’m not going to spill), I thought of the old black-and-whites, and I came up with the core idea for
Mona Lisa Eyes
. Sadly, I had to kill her off to start the story, but that’s the way it is with mystery writers.

During plotting, I like to try and make Seattle itself a “character,” so I try to weave Danny and Toni’s stories in and around authentic places in the Northwest. Sometimes, I need to invent a place if I’m going to paint it in a negative light, and occasionally I have to take advantage of a little “artistic license” to get things to fit—the stories are completely fictional, after all. Along these lines, every place mentioned in
Mona Lisa Eyes
is real with the exception of the Genesis Club, which is a product of my imagination. Also, the city blocks in the Capitol Hill neighborhood are not a quarter mile long—they’re a good deal shorter. But I needed Danny to run for several seconds, and Danny’s a fast runner, so I had to “stretch” the blocks.

Along these lines, the historical events mentioned in the story happened pretty much as described—the football games, the sailboat race (obviously, without Eric Gaston and his
Warwitch
), and the presidential election. This causes the story’s timeline to expand and contract by a few days here and there, but I think it worked out alright.

Finally, there are lots of good organizations out there doing critical work to help the struggling peoples in Africa, but the Beatrice Thoms Memorial Foundation is not one of them. Nor is the Southern Star Relief Fund.

A
cknowledgments

Mona Lisa Eyes
required a great deal of research and specialized information, which I was fortunate to obtain through the efforts of many dedicated and talented people.

Thanks to my developmental editor, Beth Jusino, for helping to identify and shape the real story hidden in the usual jumble of words that make up the early drafts of the book. I very much appreciate your good work, sense, advice, and conversation.

Thanks to my copy editors, Brynn Warriner and Carrie Wicks, for helping me take what I (mistakenly) hoped was a finished manuscript to a manuscript that really is finished now—a humbling but necessary experience. Incidentally, Beth and Carrie work in Seattle and Brynn used to: they provide sound advice and assistance on specifics of the novel’s Seattle setting. And Carrie Wicks the talented editor also happens to be Carrie Wicks the talented jazz singer who appears in Chapter 10 of Mona Lisa Eyes. Check out her albums at
http://carriewicks.net
. She’s one of Danny’s favorites.

Thank you to my good friend Dr. John Kremer. A mystery novelist has no end of strange, gruesome medical questions. Dr. John is always there to not only cheerfully answer the questions, but to offer up suggestions that I’d never even thought of.

Thanks to my dedicated group of beta readers: Ellen Johnson, Casey Jacobs, Jennifer Norton, Liz Spiller, and Dennis Doppe. They’ve read every word of each novel—they know Danny and Toni almost as well as I do. When I “stray,” they’re always there to straighten me out.

Thanks to all the fans of Danny and Toni who’ve written and told me how much they enjoy reading about these two. I appreciate the e-mails, the Facebook posts, and the reviews posted on Amazon. Sorry
Mona Lisa
was so long in coming.

Finally, as always, thanks to my wife, Michelle, for her constant support in this and all my other endeavors.