Page 89 of Possession

“Wait, what? Helicopter? Why?”

“The restaurant is in Brooklyn. Work up an appetite for me, Ms. Copeland.”

I hung up on her sputtering and went back to my tedious data collection. That I rolled up my sleeves even more before I dug in was only to keep the material clean.

Certainly not because I relished getting to the bottom of this conundrum wrapped in glass and barbed wire.

When I stopped by the executive floor to collect Grace at just before eight p.m., everything was locked up tight. Grace’s computer was sleeping, her desk was tidy, and her chair was tucked in.

She was nowhere in sight.

I tried to shove down the immediate panic, and instead, I returned to the elevator to head toward the roof. The moment I stepped outside, a gust of wind nearly blew me back a step—or maybe that was seeing Grace seated in my helicopter, her long blond hair tied back with a scarf as if she were doing her best Grace Kelly impression.

She didn’t need to. There was no one who could impress me like she could.

Like she had since I was practically a child.

I climbed into the cockpit and wordlessly handed her my briefcase. She set it between her knees, and her lips moved, as if she were speaking.

It didn’t matter. I had to have her mouth under mine.

Hooking my hand around the back of her neck, I tugged her close. And spoke against her lips.

“You worried me.”

The flash in her eyes nearly took me under. They sparked with challenge, with denial. Finally softening as my words sank in. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

“It’s okay. I’ll overlook it seeing as I don’t think a spanking sets the right tone for our first real date.”

This time, her eyes went wide. “Says who?” she asked breathlessly.

Chuckling, I slipped back and went through my pre-flight routine. She was already revving in place beside me.

My girl loved to fly. And I wasn’t even questioning themy girlpart anymore, because she was as mine as my own heart.

A short while later, we took off, and as always, I delighted in the sounds of her squeals competing with the sounds of the rotors. I didn’t take her up often enough.

I would need to rectify that. Soon.

Once all of this was behind us, I’d take her up every damn month. Rain, snow, or shine.

The trip didn’t take long. Just a little over an hour, and the conditions for December were surprisingly hospitable. No snow, and the sky was crisp and clear. Pinpricks of stars dotted our way, a map right up to Grace’s promised heavens.

Jesus, it was December. Almost the holidays.

The office would have our annual party in a few days, and close for Christmas shortly after that. Grace and I would have to put all of this aside for a little while even if we hadn’t resolved everything by then. Chances were it wouldn’t be. Obviously, all of this—whatever exactlythiswas—had been going on for years, and our bungling attempts at investigation wouldn’t unknot a lifetime of secrets held close by an old woman in a few hours.

Maybe not even a few weeks.

I touched down on the helipad cleared with the flight agency and reduced all power in preparation to disembark. Then I turned to Grace, expecting her usual exuberance from the flight.

Instead, I found her sitting with her head bowed and her shoulders shaking.

“Grace?”

She looked up, and even in the dim light I saw the smears of dampness under her eyes. “She doesn’t get to experience any of this anymore, you know? I was just thinking that it’s so beautiful for December, cold but not too cold, and then I realized she’s cold all the time. She’s all alone in that cemetery while I’m up amongst the stars.” She rubbed her thumbs over her cheeks and took a shuddering breath. “Most of the time, I’m good. Not tonight. I don’t know why it hit me so hard just now.”

But I knew.

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