“Yeah, well, Detective Magee has become quite the celebrity.”
Lucinda’s eyes searched the room. “Is he here yet, I’m dying to meet him.”
Anne scanned the room, too. “No, not yet.” And he hasn’t called me, Anne thought. I hope nothing’s wrong. Then Anne spotted someone she wanted to talk to almost as much as Ryan. Syd. Okay, Anne thought. This should be fun. “Excuse me, Lucinda, there’s someone I need to see.”
“Of course, I’ll see you in a bit and, oh, before I forget,” Lucinda handed Anne a manila envelope. “Here’s what I call my Survival Guide for Lotto Winners. A list of names and numbers of some wonderful professionals who can help Ryan access the full potential of good fortune.”
And all related to you, no doubt Anne thought. “Thank you, I’ll make sure Ryan gets this.” Anne tucked the envelope under her arm, weaved her way through the camera and cables to the other side of the room where Syd was pouring herself a cup of coffee from a refreshment table.
Syd saw Anne coming. And Anne’s body language and attitude sent alarm bells ringing in Syd’s brain. Anne projected a sense of smug superiority and worse, ownership; ownership of the thing Syd held most dear. Ryan.
“Detective Curtis,” Anne said, extending her hand. “Anne Rogers, we met in the bullpen.”
“I remember,” Syd said with a smile, but she ignored Anne’s outstretched hand, leaving it hanging awkwardly between them.
“So it’s going to be like that,” Anne said. “And I was hoping we could be friends.”
“No you weren’t,” Syd said.
“You’re right,” Anne said, lowering her hand. “I wasn’t.” Anne decided to play a bit with her prey before she finished her off. “Actually, I’m surprised you’re here.”
“Really, and why’s that?”
“Well, after what happened between Ryan and me last night, I thought…” Anne trailed off correctly reading the desperate curiosity in Syd’s face. “Ryan is such a wonderful lover,” Anne said, knowing each syllable pierced Syd’s heart. “I was a fool to ever leave him, a mistake, by the way, I won’t make again.”
So there it was, Syd thought. Ryan did sleep with her. The final, delicate strands of hope elevating Syd’s spirit snapped.
“Did he happen to mention our reunion last night?” Anne asked.
It took a real effort for Syd not to slap the smugness off Anne’s face. But, not willing to give this bitch an inch, Syd said, “No, we were a little preoccupied.”
“Ah, yes, the Lady in Red, of course. Congrats.” Something caught Anne’s eye, Ryan was walking into the ballroom, and as much as Anne was looking forward to delivering the coup de grace on Syd, she wanted to talk to Ryan more than anything. “Let’s talk later,” Anne said and stepped past Syd, crossing the ballroom toward the door.
Syd turned to see what had distracted Anne, and as she’d expected, it was Ryan. Well, Syd thought, he can have his greedy bitch and he can have his stolen Lotto money. I’m out of here. Syd stepped back out of sight, and as reporters and friends called out to Ryan, Syd slipped out the ballroom door.
Anne noticed Syd’s exit and smiled victoriously.
Meanwhile, Ryan’s eyes were riveted on his cell phone. He just received a text message and as he read it, he smiled. He snapped his phone closed as Anne reached him.
“Darling,” she said opening her arms and stepping towards him.
He put his hands out, catching her at the waist and keeping her at arm’s length. “Morning,” he said stiffly, his eyes searching the room.
Whoa, thought Anne. Something’s up. What the hell’s happened?
“Have you seen Syd?” Ryan asked.
“No,” Anne said innocently, making a show of looking for her.
“She told me she’d be here,” Ryan said, frustrated.
“Is everything all right, Ryan?” Anne asked. “I’ve called you a couple of times this morning and — ”
“Everything is great,” Ryan interrupted. “But I’ve changed my mind about a couple of things.”
“What things?”
“You’re about to find out. Wait here.” Ryan took a step toward the stage, then stopped and turned back to Anne. “Oh, by the way, Rick says hello.”
Anne’s face fell as Ryan walked away. Rick? Oh, no, what did Rick tell Ryan? The worst thing possible, Anne realized. The one thing she couldn’t afford for Ryan to know.
The truth.
Anne rushed forward, grabbed Ryan by the arm spinning him around, then pulled him close and said in a desperate whisper. “You can’t believe anything Rick says, he’s a pathological liar.”
“He told me Rogers, Middleton and Roberts has never represented a lottery winner. You told me you had. So, simple question, have you ever represented a lottery winner?”
Anne stared at Ryan, her mind racing, trying to figure out what to say, how to parse the awful truth. Finally, shaken, her voice barely above a whisper, Anne said, “No.”
“Rick told me you and he forged some mortgage papers. Did you?”
“Yes,” Anne said and then regrouped. “Okay, I might have had an agenda when I first went to see you in the bullpen, I admit it, but all that changed last night. I love you, Ryan. I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the foundation. All I care about is you, I swear it.”
Ryan could hear the sincerity in her plea, and felt a twinge of sympathy. But his mind was made up. “Sorry, Beautiful, we’re done.”
Crushed, Anne watched Ryan step on stage.
Lucinda was standing with a couple of Lotto officials and a heavy-set man in a suit he must’ve bought about twenty pounds ago. Behind them on a display stand was a six-foot check made out to Ryan Magee for thirty-four million dollars.
“Detective Ryan,” Lucinda said shaking his hand. “I’m Lucinda McCarthy with the California Lottery, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said.
“And this,” Lucinda said, indicating the heavy-set man, “is Farid Nouri, he owns the store where you bought your ticket.”
Ryan shook his hand. “And how much did you win?”
“Twenty-three thousand, five hundred dollars,” Farid said.
“The store gets .5% of the winning jackpot,” Lucinda said.
“Does he get a giant check, too?” Ryan joked.
“No,” Lucinda said, laughing. “Just the Lotto winner. So, would you like to get started?”
“Just another minute or two,” Ryan said, eyeing the crowd. The now familiar faces of the press looked up at him expectantly, as well as friends and colleagues from the LAPD including Hanrahan, Chen, Katz, his former mother-in-law, Liz, and a distressed looking Anne. But no Syd.
Syd was hurrying across the crowded lobby toward the front door when she noticed Tony Ramirez running toward the ballroom with a man in tow. The man was big, with an unremarkable face but a very distinctive wardrobe — greasy coveralls. They rushed past Syd and Syd’s jaw dropped when she saw the logo on the back of the coveralls, Valley Tow and Salvage.
Tony reached the ballroom door, whispered something to the tow truck driver, then Tony stepped inside while the tow truck driver remained in the hall.
Fascinated, Syd started back toward the ballroom.
On stage, Ryan saw Tony walk in. Tony gave Ryan a thumb up. Ryan turned to Lucinda. “Okay, let’s get started, but first I need to tell you something.” Ryan pulled Lucinda to the side of the stage and whispered furiously in her ear.
As Ryan huddled with Lucinda, Syd walked back into the ballroom and up to Ramirez.