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Wii game Iwas telling you about.”

“The Disney one?” Iasked.

“Yeah. See, it was made byWarren Spector, the game wizard. He’s my hero.”

“I thought I was your hero,”Francois deadpanned.

“You’re my other hero,”Ferric said and grinned.

Mom poured out the coffee and I readthe brief blurb in the magazine about the Disney Epic Mickeygame.

“Sweetheart,” I said,stroking Ferric’s dreads. “Why don’t you go online and see if wecan preorder the game?”

“Can I?” he looked so happymy heart almost burst. “Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. Use mylaptop, sweetheart. It’s in our bedroom.”

He ran out of the room, running back toretrieve his magazine.

We waited until we were sure he waspleasantly distracted.

“Any idea who these guyswere?” Francois asked Sage, leaning forward to grab his coffee fromMom.

I stole a glance at Francois. I thoughtLars had been checking for fingerprints.

“Lars called me a fewminutes ago,” Sage said. “These guys were on the lam. They’re twoof the men who broke out of Perry County Detention Center inUniontown, Alabama last week.”

“Alabama,” I said. “How’dthey wind up in Connecticut?”

Sage glanced at Francois, who put hishand on my thigh.

“I’m not keeping anythingfrom Mingo, or his mother. They need to know what’s goingon.”

“Does this have anything todo with the Mafioso guy you came to the Caribbean to help when youdisappeared?” I asked Francois.

He nodded. “You got it in one,babe.”

“How much have you toldhim?” Sage asked and I wished I had one of Francois’ stun guns onme. I hated that Sage knew something about this that Ididn’t.

“Somebody bumped off the guyI came to work with.”

It was all coming back to menow. He’dbeen a Mafiaso.

“Arturo Abramo, right?” Iasked.

“Right. Good memory, babe.He changed it to Alan Arthur. I came and set up hissecurity—”

“And I found you locked inthe bunker in his backyard.”

“You saved my life,Mingo.”

Yeah, and I braved a hurricane and…oh,man, I’d forgotten how awful that whole trip had been, not knowingif Francois was alive or dead. I’d rescued them both, him andAbramo when the bunker’s battery accidentally locked them insideit. And now Abramo was dead.

“When was he bumped off?” Iasked.

Sage picked up the story. “Three daysago.

“I called Francois and hesaid you were going to Connecticut for the wedding. I told him hemight be in danger because certain people were upset that he helpedAlberto Abramo create a new existence as Alan Arthur. “He did timefor some violent crimes, but got a light sentence for rolling overon some of his goombahs.” Sage sipped at his coffee. “He’s been shopping around hismemoirs to some big New York publishers. Somebody caught wind of itand found him in New York…and popped him full of lead. Every copyof his manuscript has disappeared.”

“So now they’re afterFrancois because he put a security system in the guy’s house downhere in St. Martin?”

Francois sighed and looked away fromme.

“We know who it is, wejust…have to catch up with him. Somebody told him we were going tobe in Connecticut.”

“Okay, I said, who ishe?”

“Louie Fancetti,” Sagesaid.

“Is that name supposed toring a bell?”

“I helped put him away,”Francois said. “He’s a pretty heavy-duty guy. Been out for about amonth, right, Sage?”

“Right. He recruited someonein Hawaii to keeptrack of you. His people found the two goons who came after youyesterday. They blabbed as soon as they got to the police station.They followed you down here, but lost you at theairport.”

I felt sick. They’d followed ushere?

“Mingo, I created thevoice-activated travel coffee mug Alberto Abramo used to tape allhis conversations with Fancetti. It was the backbone of the state’scase in New York.”

“A voice-activated coffeetumbler?” Now I’d heard everything.

“Mingo, babe…it was before Imet you.” He let out another sigh. “I helped Alberto out because heoffered me a lot of money and until I met you, I never thoughttwice about taking dangerous assignments. I’d accepted that jobbefore we moved in together. I didn’t think for a second it wouldbe high risk, or that I might die.”

“Ferric and I are yourliabilities,” I said.

He frowned at me. “Liabilities? You aremy life. Both of you. Right now, this is a part of my past thatneeds to be tidied up.”

“How do we do that?” Iasked.

“Thank God you saidwe.”

“Oh, Francois, I love you.But what do we do? We can’t have a bunch of goons following useverywhere.”

“Somebody gave Fancetti thatinformation and that somebody must still be in touch with him,”Sage said.

Francois got up and pacednow.

“I still can’t get over thatthese two guys went from Alabama to Connecticut and now down tohere…and they are jail escapees,” I said. “How is thatpossible?”

Sage rubbed his fingerstogether in the universal gesture of money.

“So Fancetti pays the goons,gets them fake IDs…they wind up here—” I said. “So, they what…killFrancois and then what?”

Sage shrugged. “They were told they’dbe free. Hey, it wasn’t a completely stupid plan. They could havedisappeared down here. I think they’re kinda sore they got takendown by a thirteen year old.” He grinned.

“And his handsome father,” Ireminded him.

Sage nodded inacknowledgment.

“Who knew we were going tobe at the wedding and hated us enough to pass on the information?”Francois asked.

I felt the knowledge crawl across mymind like someone walking on my grave. Francois stopped and staredat me. He knew, too.

“Shit,” I said. “I think Iknow.”

“I know,” Ferric said fromthe doorway. I had no idea how much he’d heard, but he crossed theroom to me. “It’s that guy, Dad. I knew he was fallowingus.”

“What guy?” Sageasked.

“Kaolin Grace,” Isaid.

Ferric’s earlier fear was gone. He hadthat pissed-off expression his father wore so well. I preferred tosee him angry than frightened.

“I remember where I saw himnow. It was at William-Sonoma.”

“Wait…you and I wenttogether and used the bridal registry. Maybe we didn’t close outthe screen and he could see which wedding we were shopping for,” Isaid.

“I’ll fucking kill him,”Francois said.

“Not if I kill him first,” Iresponded.

“Nobody is killing him,”Sage said. “Look, tell me what you know about this guy and where wecan find him.”

“He’s probably here,” Isaid. “He missed the flight we were on because Francois had himyanked off to be strip searched.”

“I should have had himfisted,” Francois muttered.

Sage stared at me. “He was on yourflight to St. Martin?”

“Yeah, we saw him at theairport,” Ferric said. “I recognized him from backhome.”

“Where do you