“You’re so chicken!” Romeo squawked from down the hall. “You’re so chicken!”

Joyce stood up and pushed the bathroom door closed with a loud bang. It almost felt symbolic. I’m not taking it anymore, she told herself. As she sat back down, she felt liberated. Tonight, I start a new way of life. It’s my way or the highway. Francis is going to be surprised. But life is full of surprises.

She couldn’t have guessed how many were in store for her.

23

When Regan and Kit stepped out of the cab at Jack’s apartment building in Tribeca, Kit looked up and sighed. “Your Home Sweet Home, Regan.”

Regan smiled. “I love it. I can’t believe this place used to be a warehouse.”

Jack’s paternal grandfather had been an extremely successful businessman who, when he died, left a generous inheritance to each of his grandchildren. Jack had wisely put some of that money in real estate, buying an apartment that he hoped someday to share with his soul mate. Until Regan came along, Jack had been afraid he’d never find her. Now, as the song went, he never wanted to let her go.

His maternal grandfather had been a police lieutenant. After graduating from Boston College, Jack decided that he, too, wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement. He’d risen quickly through the ranks of the NYPD, from patrolman to captain, and now was head of the Major Case Squad. His goal was to become the police commissioner of New York City. Few doubted that he would make it.

Jack was waiting for them upstairs in the roomy apartment. “How’s my bride?” he asked as he opened the door, leaned over, and gave Regan a quick kiss.

“Much better now,” Regan answered with a smile as she looked up at him, always amazed at how handsome he was and how happy he made her feel. “We’ve had quite the afternoon.”

“And our bridesmaid?” Jack asked Kit, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“I feel better, too, just knowing we’re on our way to Atlantic City. Maybe I’ll hit the jackpot at one of those slot machines. Then I can retire.”

“Maybe we’ll hit the jackpot and find out some useful information about our dress thieves,” Regan said hopefully as she walked into the large, airy living room. Several of the boxes she had sent from California were lined up against the wall.

“I talked to the head of security at Gambler’s Palace,” Jack informed them. “Stan Visoff is a former FBI agent I met a couple of times. He’s getting out the security tapes from last Saturday night for us.”

“Great,” Regan said as she silently admired her surroundings. Jack had decorated the apartment with oriental rugs, antiques, traditional furniture, and interesting artwork that he bought in the neighborhood galleries. Like Alfred and Charisse’s loft, the apartment had an exposed brick wall that gave a feeling of country charm. Regan felt completely at home. Blending her life with Jack’s felt so easy and so right.

“Wait till you hear about the other April Brides,” Kit began enthusiastically.

“I’d love to as soon as we get in the car,” Jack said quickly. “We’d better get going if we want to get back tonight at a reasonable enough hour to check out the activity in Alfred and Charisse’s neighborhood.”

Ten minutes later they were heading for the Holland Tunnel.

“So tell me,” Jack said, “how did the other brides take the news?”

“Surprisingly well,” Regan answered, “especially considering the reactions of the first two.”

Kit leaned forward from the backseat. “Besides your lovely fiancée, these April Brides of Alfred’s take the cake. The two we visited this afternoon were so blasé about their missing gowns, I couldn’t believe it. One of them is into visualization and inner peace. She’s into inner peace so much that she and her future husband don’t plan to live together when they get married. They’ll just pay each other visits.”

Jack chuckled and grabbed Regan’s hand. “That won’t be us.”

Regan smiled. “No way.”

“The other bride,” Kit continued, “well, talk about hitting the jackpot…” She told Jack about their visit to the Fifth Avenue apartment.

“Arnie Ney?” Jack asked. “That name sounds familiar.”

“He’s rich,” Kit volunteered. “And doesn’t want his name in the paper. He doesn’t want anyone else bugging him for money.”

Regan turned to Jack. “And how was the rest of your day? Any leads on the bank robbery?”

Jack shook his head and filled them in. “The bank teller is also getting married soon. Her fiancé came and picked her up. He was a wreck. He’s whisking her off to Las Vegas for a couple days of R and R.”

“Kind of makes the whole experience worth it,” Kit sighed.

“She was pretty upset. I just wish we could get this guy soon.”

“If by this time next week we have the bank robber and two dress thieves behind bars, we can fly off without giving a thought to our work,” Regan said.

Jack turned to her. “When we take off for Ireland, we have to make a pact to leave this all behind.”

They were planning to spend several days in Ireland, staying at two different castles in the countryside, and visiting some of their ancestors’ birthplaces. As an engagement present, a friend of Regan’s had given them a year’s subscription to [email protected], an Internet service that helped trace your ancestry. The card read, “To Regan and Jack-I hope you don’t discover you’re kissing cousins.” They decided to find out. Then it was on to London and Paris.

As Regan thought about their plans for Ireland, she mused aloud. “The bride who is into visualization said that her fiancé’s family went ‘wayyyy’ back. I’d love to be able to check them out on Roots@Relatives. When people imply how impressive their family lineage is, it makes me curious what they call impressive.”

“Please!” Kit gasped. “Anyone can put on a tiara and claim to be from royalty. I met a guy at a party who said he was a prince. I’d never heard of the country. I Googled it. They hadn’t heard of it, either.”

Jack and Regan laughed. “I’m just so curious about Victoria and Frederick’s relationship,” Regan said. “The few things she said about him give me the impression he’s pompous. Maybe I should call her and offer to look up his family in Roots@Relatives. They provide census records and birth certificates. It’s really interesting. They already sent me a picture of the boat my great-grandfather came over from Ireland on. If Frederick ’s family really is so grand, I bet he’d love to get copies of those old records.”

“He’d probably be afraid that you’d uncover a family scandal. Have you ever met anyone who doesn’t have at least one embarrassing relative?” Kit asked, then sat back in her seat. “As long as she’s not upset about the dress, leave well enough alone.”

Regan shrugged. “We’ll see. I’d better give Alfred a call and let him know that all the victims have been notified.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and pressed in his number.

“Alfred, it’s Regan,” she said when he answered.

“I was just about to call you!” he said excitedly.

“Is anything else wrong?”

“There’s always something wrong. But something right has happened, too.”

“Do tell,” Regan said. “I love good news.”

“That hot new cable network, Tiger News, wants to have us on their Sunday morning show, Patrick and Jeannie!”

“Us?” Regan asked.

“Me and Charisse and the April Brides! They’ve been doing specials on planning spring weddings. One of the producers is familiar with my dresses and absolutely adores them! She thinks this would be a great human-interest story.”

“Well, you know Tracy won’t do it. And you can forget Victoria and Shauna. Neither of them wants publicity.”

Alfred groaned. “Brianne couldn’t find another dress. So her father called and threatened me. He said I’d better have a new dress for her or else.”