Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(16)

“She saved the children.”

“I knew it!”

“But in the process of turning them over to the authorities, she was arrested for the murder herself.”

“But she breaks free,” Sylvia insisted.

“No, she goes to jail.”

There was a sound like Sylvia’s heels hitting the floor. “Wait a minute,” she said, her acrylic nails clicking against the phone as she switched ears. “She goes to jail? We’re already into the second act and I’m not hearing any B plot. Where’s the romance? Where’s the sex? How’s she supposed to get it on with the hot cop if she’s stuck behind bars?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “There is no hot cop.”

“What about the cop from the first book?”

Why was everyone so hung up on the cop? “He’s not in this one?”

“Why not? Everybody liked him.”

“Because now she’s in love with an attorney.”

“And they have sex in jail?”

“I’m getting to that.”

“Well, get to it a little faster. I’m picking up a cab in twelve minutes.”

I slumped into my chair, dispirited and ready to rush through the rest, certain Sylvia was going to reject the whole pitch. “So she falls in love with this attorney who’s been assigned to her case. He’s young and smart—”

“And hot?”

“And hot.”

“As hot as the cop?”

“Maybe hotter. Because he believes in her, Sylvia!” In her and Hanlon’s razor and pizza and beer. “He swears he’s going to prove her innocence. But then…” I choked, scrambling for my list.

Find attorney.

“Then her attorney goes missing,” I said, smacking the desk. “He disappears without a trace. No calls. No texts.” I left out the part where he was probably lounging on a beach, slathered in baby oil, drinking beer with a bunch of bikini-clad coeds. “And she knows in her gut someone’s abducted him—or worse—to make sure she suffers a lifetime in prison.”

“Then she breaks out?” Sylvia cut in.

I heaved a sigh. “Sure, why not?”

“Determined to find her hot lawyer at any cost. I love it. That’s what we’re going to call it, Finn.” I could hear Sylvia’s pen drop onto her desk. “The Hit 2: At Any Cost.”

“Fine.” She could call it whatever she wanted. If I was lucky, maybe she’d write it for me, too.

“I’ve got to tell you, Finlay, I doubted you for nothing. I think you’re really onto something here. It feels very cinematic. We might be able to shop this for the screen.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“I’ve got to run. I’m going to be late to meet with your editor. I’ll email you later and let you know what she says.” The line went dead. I slumped back against my chair, processing everything I’d just told Sylvia, picking the pitch apart for anything that might come back to bite me. It seemed safe enough.

An engine rumbled outside my house.

I got up and pushed down the slats of my blinds, groaning as I spotted the familiar pickup in the driveway.

Vero was peering out the foyer window as I came rushing down the steps in my slippers and my robe. “What’s Steven doing here?”

“I have no idea.”

“If things didn’t go well with Sylvia, we could always kill him,” she suggested.

A rush of frigid air blew in when I opened the door. Steven stood on my porch wearing a heavy flannel, an enormous pine tree wedged in the crook of his arm. His work boots shed dirt on my foyer rug, and the tree dropped needles as he carried it over the threshold.

“Daddy!” Delia squealed, flying down the steps and throwing herself into his free arm. Heavy thumps sounded through the house as Zach rushed down after her.

“Hey, pumpkin.” Steven kissed Delia’s head and set her down. A bandage peeked out from under his wool cap, and a bruise colored his cheek.

“What’s all this?” I grimaced as the high branches of the tree scraped against the ceiling, the top of the tree bending as he leaned it against the wall. Zach toddled over to pet it. Steven’s relief was almost palpable.

“I felt bad about what happened at the tree farm last night, so I went back first thing this morning and bought the nicest one I could find.”

Vero raised an eyebrow. “It’s a little big, isn’t it?”

He smiled up at the fir. “I can always trim it back. The girl at the tree lot said it’s better to pick one that’s larger than you need than to get stuck with one that doesn’t fill the space.”

Vero’s gaze dropped to Steven’s crotch. “Won’t she be disappointed.” She tucked her elbows close to her sides, curling her hands into dinosaur claws as she passed me on her way to the kitchen.

Steven’s face reddened. “What was that about?”

“You don’t want to know.” I gestured to the bandage at his temple. “How are you feeling?”

He tugged off his cap, prodding the gauze. “Two stitches,” he said sheepishly. He reached into his pocket and held up his cell phone. “And look what I found on the floor of my pickup this morning. Must have dropped it last night when I was getting the kids out of the truck.”