Saturday, September 26^th

Trent and Darcey met Christopher, Nancy, and Miles for dinner at Jardiniere, one of San Francisco’s finest restaurants. It was Scott’s favorite.

Miles was doing well. He still called Darcey in the middle of the night occasionally. But those late night calls were becoming less frequent.

He had settled into his new role as Chief Operating Officer of DJA Designs. He and Darcey were working on plans to open a second office in New Orleans. Miles had just returned from his first visit to the Crescent City, exhausted but exhilarated by the ambience of the Vieux Carre’. He told his friends he had been embraced by the old city.

A few days after Preston Johnson, aka Jimmy Shadow, and ex-cop Steve Burgess died, Darcey was contacted by Johnson’s attorney. He informed her that she was the sole beneficiary of Johnson’s estate. It was a large inheritance in cash and investments. The only real estate was the condo across the hall from Trent and Darcey.

Darcey continued to struggle with conflicting emotions as they pertained to Preston Johnson. It was difficult to reconcile the friend and father figure with the assassin who had murdered scores of people. The man who was very nearly responsible for killing Trent.

She decided she could not keep the money. She donated the entire sum to the Salvation Army. She put the condo on the market with the intention of donating the proceeds of the sale as well. Unfortunately the value would be lessened due to the disclosure of the two violent deaths that had occurred on the property as required by law.

Doctor Raymond used some of the powder Preston supplied to make the antiserum and vaccine, which she administered to Trent as Preston Johnson had directed. She was studying the remainder in the hope that the powder’s properties could be duplicated for use in the treatment of similar diseases.

They didn’t yet know if the antiserum and vaccine was working. Though the symptoms weren’t quite as severe, Trent still had days when he was confused. Disoriented. He had a few severe headaches. The symptoms didn’t last long. Darcey did the best she could to comfort him and ease his pain.

Christopher turned over all the information Scott had provided about Rossi’s money laundering operation to FinCEN, the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network. Those files were leading to arrests and seizure of funds in several countries.

There was talk about promotions for Christopher and Lieutenant Mitchum. Nancy’s chief had also let it be known that she could expect her career to flourish thanks to her work with Christopher’s team. Her chief liked it when his officers held their own with the SFPD in breaking up crime rings. He was especially pleased when his people proved equal to the federal cops.

When they got home after dinner, Trent opened a bottle of Merlot. He took the bottle and two glasses to the terrace where Darcey stood looking out over the city, a secretive, satisfied smile on her face.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine?” he asked.

“No, thanks.”

“You didn’t have wine or a cocktail at dinner either,” Trent noted. “Are you feeling ok?”

“Never felt better. Alcohol just doesn’t sound appealing right now.”

Trent came to stand beside her, sipping the Merlot from his glass.

“Oh…by the way, we’re pregnant,” Darcey said.

Trent took another sip of the Merlot. He put his arm around Darcey.

Together they watched the fog rolling in over the city.