Page 86 of Flashpoint
Rome opened the sheet of paper and read aloud, “Avery, if you hear this note was found, it means things didn’t go as I planned and I’ve no doubt died. This is my legacy to you. I wish I’d been a better father to you. Your dad.”
Savich took a picture of the stamp, texted it to the CAU for MAX’s help. Three minutes later, he read, “It’s the only surviving British Guiana one-cent magenta stamp from 1856. It was stolen in 1978 from the Ellison Tussey collection.” He looked at them and smiled. “It’s valued today at nearly tenmillion dollars. Either Wilson Ballou stole the stamp from the Tussey collection himself or, more likely, he stole it from someone he was investigating and they killed him for it. I hope Mr. Ellison Tussey is still alive. He or his heirs are in for a surprise.” He looked at the note again and shook his head at the endless vagaries of life.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Hoover Building, CAU
Three months later
Special Agent Ollie Hamish raised his champagne glass. “Here’s to Rome and Elizabeth. May she speak with a sexy English accent for the rest of their lives.”
“Hear, hear.”
Rome laughed. “If our kids speak with her accent, I’ll have to teach them how not to get the crap beat out of them at school.”
Special Agent Lucy McKnight asked, “But how is that going to work? Will Elizabeth move here or will you guys live in England? Elizabeth’s an artist, so she’s portable, right?”
Elizabeth said, “It’s true I’m portable, but I want to be close to my parents since so much has happened, too much.” She shook her head, smiled. “Dillon, tell everyone what you’ve done.”
Savich said, “Actually, it’s John Eiserly and James Maitland who’ve made this happen. They’ve come to an agreement, a sort of Proserpine arrangement, Mr. Maitland called it. Rome will stay with us for six months, and then he and Elizabeth will move to London, and he’ll work as an officer at JTAC, under John Eiserly, for his six months. It’s a good deal for John since Rome has worked in counterterrorism. He’ll also serve as our liaison. John is trying to be stingy, but we’re not letting him. Knowing Mr. Maitland, he’ll see the Brits loosen their purse strings.”
Shirley, the CAU secretary, finished her sip of champagne and eyed Rome and Elizabeth. “Are you getting married here or in England?”
Elizabeth said, “Both. Because of the death of my brother, our ceremony will be private. Then we’ll have another ceremony here with Rome’s extended family and all our friends. I don’t wish to be indelicate, but we do expect lots of wedding presents.”
Rome hugged her, raised his champagne. “I’ll drink to that. And yes, Hurley and his family will be coming as well.”
Ruth Noble said, “Wowza! That’s quite an engagement ring you’re wearing. Just look at the ornate filigree and that single large elliptic diamond.”
Elizabeth stuck out her left hand. “It belonged to my great-great-grandmother, Eloise, a celebrated belle of the Belle Époque who married a French marquis. After he died in 1910, Eloise moved back to England and became a leader in the suffragette movement.” She pulled out her mobile and scrolled down. “Here she is.” They passed Elizabeth’s cell around to stare at a grand old lady with white hair piled high on her head and a snap in her bright eyes.
Agent Davis Sullivan said, “You’re a lucky man, Rome. Not only don’t you have to buy an engagement ring, you get to hear Brit spoken until you cock up your toes.”
Laughter. “Hear, hear!”
Elizabeth smiled at the group of people who’d become her American family. She tucked her arm through Rome’s, felt his familiar strength and warmth. She thought of the journey she’d taken, ending with a new life. It wouldn’t be perfect, no life was, but she knew, together, it would be an adventure.
Epilogue
George Washington Memorial Hospital
Three months and one week later
Felicity Sarah Savich was born on a cold, windy Halloween night at three in the morning.
Just past dawn, Savich gently picked up his daughter from the small crib beside Sherlock’s bed and gazed into her blue eyes. She looked steadily back at him, but Savich knew she didn’t really see him yet. Sherlock’s eyes. He smoothed the curling question-mark knot of red hair that covered her small head and smiled.
Sherlock said, “Felicity—she’s perfect, Dillon.”
“She is indeed.” As Savich rocked her, he wondered how long it would be before Beau Savich came into the world.