18. Cross Roads
Page 4
“I’ll try not to. Listen, Myra, on a serious note here. The universe is out of whack. I feel such bad vibes that I can’t even describe them. Something, somewhere is going on that involves us. I can’t explain it any better than that. You getting any vibes?”
“Well, now that you mention it, yes, I am. I thought it was all due to my…funk, as Charles calls it. What do you think it is, Annie?” Myra asked uneasily. “Do you think it has anything to do with Maggie’s demeanor yesterday when you were with her?”
“No, but that capped it for me. I’ve been feeling this way for about a month. I think that’s why I threw caution to the wind at the casino and did what I did, knowing I would have to split afterward. Does that make sense, Myra?”
Myra laughed. “In an Anna de Silva kind of way, it most certainly does.”
When Annie stopped for a traffic light, she turned to face Myra and said, “I think, Myra, we are either at a crossroads in our lives right now or fast coming up to it. And it has an ominous feel to it.”
Myra shivered at the intensity in her friend’s voice. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded solemnly.
“One more block, and we’ll be at the paper,” Annie said as she cut off a Jeep Cherokee. When she looked in the rearview mirror and saw the single-digit salute the driver offered up, she offered up one herself. “Jerk!”
“Annie, you cut him off.”
“He was just sitting there. When you’re in a car, you are supposed to drive it, not sit in it and watch the traffic.”
This was a battle Myra knew she couldn’t win. “Thank you for getting me here safe and sound. Charles will appreciate it. One more thing, Annie. You really have to give up those rhinestone boots. They don’t go with your outfit. What happened to the sandals you started out with?”
“Didn’t you see me change them? You are not the least bit observant. Those sandals accentuate my bunions. The boots don’t. So there. Besides, I like making a fashion statement.”
It was another battle Myra knew full well she couldn’t win. She waited till Annie turned off the engine, checked everything, then got out of the car.
When Myra and Annie stepped out of the elevator, Maggie’s greeting was effusive and lingering. The women gushed, hugged, and linked arms as they walked to Maggie’s office. Once inside, Myra and Annie both immediately sensed something off-key. Annie’s request for a tour for her and Myra was no sooner out of her mouth than Maggie literally dragged both women out through the newsroom and into the hall. “Just act normal and don’t say anything. Just follow my lead,” she hissed.
Perplexed, Myra and Annie managed to make appropriate comments along with a few other mundane observations about the stifling heat outside. Maggie picked up and ran with the comment. “Let’s do a picnic. We can go to the park and spread a blanket and chill out. I haven’t been on a picnic in ages.” She babbled on and on, saying she knew of a specialty shop near the park that packed a picnic basket and even provided the blanket.
Back in the office, Annie and Myra were told to wait while Maggie changed her clothes to suitable picnic attire. Thirteen minutes later they were outside and headed to Annie’s test car.
Settled behind the wheel, Annie turned around and said, “I think you need to tell us what’s going on, Maggie. We aren’t stupid—what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Today I had cabin fever, and I was trying to figure out what to do with myself, then you two showed up.” Wait till we get to the park to talk, she silently mouthed.
Her brain working at warp speed, Annie swung around, turned on the powerful engine, and peeled out of the lot onto the street. “Then we are the lucky ones. Do hard-boiled eggs go with the picnic?”
Relief rang in Maggie’s voice. “Absolutely. Eggs, fried chicken, potato salad, fresh fruit, cheese, and a bottle of wine along with some to-die-for butter rolls. Soft drinks or iced tea are extra. No charge for the blanket, but you have to return everything in twelve hours. We did an article on the shop for the Sunday section, and their business tripled in a week. Not to worry—for me, they won’t hold us to a reservation. Make a right here, then the next left, and follow it out till you see a big red sign. Polly’s Picnic Palace is on the right.” Annie followed Maggie’s instructions to the letter and pulled into a tiny lot behind Polly’s Picnic Palace.
Maggie hopped out of the luxury car. She leaned in Annie’s open window and wagged her finger playfully. “Now don’t talk about me while I’m gone.”
Annie and Myra sat like statues, their eyes straight ahead as they tried to figure out what was going on. Don’t talk meant don’t talk. Both women literally bristled with curiosity.
Ten minutes later, Maggie hopped back into the car, the picnic basket offering up delectable aromas. “The chicken just came out of the fryer. By the time we get to the park, it should be just right to eat with our fingers. They do make the best chicken. I think they put dill in the deviled eggs.” She continued to babble about food and her on-again, off-again metabolism, which continued to baffle her doctor but certainly was not life-threatening.
Annie and Myra, twitching and squirming as if they had fleas, couldn’t wait to get out of the car once they hit Rock Creek Park. Maggie in the lead, the picnic basket in her arms, galloped forward. Myra carried the blanket, and Annie carried the small portable cooler.
Myra spread the blanket, then dropped to her knees. “What is going on, Maggie?”
“I don’t know. I’ve had this feeling since as far back as January that I am being watched. I think the paper is bugged. I think my house is bugged, and so is the car that picks me up and drives me to work. At first I thought I was being paranoid, but that’s not it. It’s my reporter’s gut instinct. Ted has it, too. No, I think it started before Christmas. Ted was supposed to come home, then he said he couldn’t make it. By the way, that’s why I didn’t go out to the farm for Christmas, Myra. I went to Delaware to see my grandfather over the holidays.
“When I got back, I noticed a change in Ted. His calls and e-mails took on a different tone. We have our own code when we try to tell each other something we don’t want anyone else to figure out. It’s not important for either one of you to know what it is, but he let me know something was wrong and for me to stay on my toes. Which I have been trying to do.
“You were parked just long enough for someone to plant a bug or a GPS while you came up to the office. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything in the car or at the Post.”
“But why?” Myra asked nervously as she looked around.
“I’m not sure. At first I thought it had something to do with someone trying to find out who owns the paper. That’s not it. It’s something else entirely. I’ve had six months to think about all of this. I came up with…something. That something is what I can’t figure out. I want you both to sit here and think about everything that’s happened since you all received your pardons. No matter how outrageous, how over the top it is, tell me what you think. It’s been eighteen months since you were all freed. Think about how it happened, think about all of your lives and how everything has changed from what it was to what it is now. Think about all the e-mails and calls from our little club, the girls and the guys. Think about the tone of everything, the sparseness. We used to be such a tight group. Surely you’ve noticed a change.”
Hearing the desperateness in Maggie’s voice, Annie and Myra looked at each other in alarm.
“Everything did change when the pardons came through. But that was to be expected. We missed the girls’ weddings, if there were weddings. We didn’t go to Lizzie’s White House shower or the christening because we didn’t want to make a circus out of it for her. I think things might have turned out differently if Henry Jellicoe hadn’t stepped into the game,” Myra said, her voice cold and tight.
“It was like he stole everyone away from us in the blink of an eye,” Annie said, her eyes narrowing in thought.
“Keep going, ladies,” Maggie said.
“It did happen
fast. He dazzled the boys with all that money,” Myra said.
“Just like that, he decided to retire. I thought it strange at the time,” Annie said.
“Did you know that Henry Jellicoe dropped off the face of the earth for a whole year and a half?” At Myra’s and Annie’s blank looks, Maggie nodded. “He did. I understand he’s back at his farm, or whatever it is, in Pennsylvania. It could also be a rumor.”
“Did he disappear…go away…right after he hired all his new help?” Myra asked. The glint in her eyes was like cold ice.
“As far as I can tell, that’s what happened. There was a thing going on with Jellicoe and the president. In fact, you’ll remember, he asked her to marry him and gave her a ring the night of the pardons. No one knows exactly what happened afterward, but there has been a lot of speculation.
“However, the press, the Post included, cut her a lot of slack. Engagements and marriage are too personal not to. The president has never made any comments about the engagement or the marriage. In the press photos I’ve seen of her, she wasn’t wearing an engagement ring. That might not mean anything since as a rule she doesn’t wear jewelry for photo ops,” Maggie said.
“If anyone would know more about it, it would be Lizzie,” Myra said.
“Lizzie is wrapped up in her own little world, and rightly so. When we talk, it’s about the baby and how wonderful motherhood is. I did try to ask some off-the-cuff questions, but she acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. I really don’t think she knows anything to share,” Maggie said as she picked up a chicken leg and looked at it as though she couldn’t decide if she should eat it or not.
Annie threw her hands in the air. “And all that means what? I think you need to spell out what exactly your concern is, so we can talk it to death.”
Maggie laid the chicken leg on a colorful plastic plate. “Am I the only one who is getting this? Ooops, Ted and I are the only ones. Okay, listen up.” Maggie crossed her legs Indian style and leaned forward. “First things first. We are having this discussion here in the park, so no one can hear us. Now, do you not find it weird, strange, inexplicable, as to why Henry Jellicoe would turn Global Securities over to our people? And they are our people. It’s a given that he knew the pardons were going to go through. The man then practically offers up his company on a platinum platter to Bert and Jack, who in the blink of an eye resign respectively as director of the FBI and as deputy district attorney for the District of Columbia, jobs they loved. I know the money offer was a little too enticing to turn down. Ditto for Harry and the others. Global Securities is the eyes and ears of the security world. They do not come any better than that company. The whole world knows that.
“It has sixty thousand employees around the world. Revenues are off the charts.”
Myra toyed with the food she’d heaped on her plate. “No one is disputing that the firm is solvent. What are you trying to say?”
Maggie picked at the crisp batter on her chicken leg with one of her pointy nails. “What was the urgency in going after our people? And as you know, Jellicoe immediately scattered our guys all over the world. Lizzie and I are just about the only ones left here in the States. Well, Annie was in Vegas. And someone made sure you stayed down on the farm, Myra, now, didn’t they? No one has seen hide nor hair of you in the past year and a half. No one showed up at the farm for Christmas. I’m sure you asked yourself why a thousand times. From what I can gather, every place one of our people is stationed, there was some kind of crisis that prevented any of them from taking a trip. Never lose sight of the fact that Global is the eyes and ears of the world. They can do what the CIA, the FBI, and all those other organizations can’t. They take the law into their own hands and get the job done. Kind of like the vigilantes, don’t you think? Are you starting to see what I’m seeing?
“When you’re done asking yourself that, ask yourself why Jellicoe hired Ted and Espinosa. JGS had a newsletter that went out to all employees four times a year. Clients got a slightly different version. There’s nothing wrong with that. He had smart people in a suite of offices in New York taking care of the text of both versions. He shut that down and opened offices in Rome, where he sent Ted and Espinosa. All they do is travel the globe, get info from all the group leaders or whatever they’re called. Ted puts it all together in a glossy twelve-page magazine that goes out once a month. Espinosa does the pictures. Ted said it’s all bullshit. Espinosa agrees. But…they’re not here. Meaning here in the States. Particularly here in Washington. No one is here but the three of us, four if you count Lizzie. And until now, Annie, you were nowhere near the capital.”
Annie and Myra both threw their hands up in the air at the same time. Their words were identical when they spoke simultaneously. “What does it mean?”
“I’ll be damned if I know,” Maggie said as she finally bit into the chicken leg she was holding. “But the reporter in me and Ted says it means something. You can take that to the bank!”
Chapter 4
Myra and Annie looked at each other, their eyes wide. It was Annie who spoke first. “So what you are saying is, Hank Jellicoe did not consider either Myra or me a threat. I’m not sure about you, Myra, but I feel insulted. It’s like he thinks you and I don’t count. Off the top of my head, I’d say you, Maggie, are a huge threat. He takes away Ted and Joseph Espinosa and leaves you behind. You’re the EIC of the Post. The position alone should be a threat to him if he’s up to some kind of shenanigans.”
“Ah, but without my star reporter and star photographer, I just have regulation reporters, greenhorns, guys and gals who don’t have that fire in their bellies like the three of us do…did. They don’t think outside the box. Ted and I were born outside the box. We always took it to the next level with no coaching or pleading from anyone.
“Think about it. In the blink of an eye, everyone is gone. G-O-N-E! Didn’t even one little red flag go up?” At Myra’s and Annie’s blank looks, Maggie shook her head in disgust.
“How about this? Hank Jellicoe disappears. For well over a year and a half. I can understand you maybe not knowing that, but now you do. That’s a red flag all by itself. Then he gets very publicly engaged, and that gets a lid clamped on it. To the president of these here United States!” Maggie drawled. “That’s another great big red flag. At least to me it is, and to the reporter in me, too. Jellicoe has gone to ground, and he certainly knows how to do that considering the business he’s in. To be honest, I’m not even sure he’s at his farm in Pennsylvania. That place is like Fort Knox. Impossible to penetrate. I know because I tried.”
“You did!” Myra cried in surprise.
“Well, yes, Myra, I did. When I started getting these weird e-mails and texts from Ted, I knew that’s what he wanted me to do. Look, Ted is the best of the best. So is Espinosa. Jellicoe dazzled Ted and Joe with all that money. Ted saw it as a way to get a house for us, some new vehicles, sock some money away for retirement. I can’t fault him for that. First, last, and always he is a gut reporter. He smelled it before anyone else did. And he’s on it in his own way. I have to admit that I’m more than a little worried. G.I. Joe, as Ted calls Jellicoe, is up to something. Since we three are odd men out, so to speak, I guess it’s up to us to ferret out what is going on.”
“I can’t believe the man thinks you, Annie, and I are no threat to him. That doesn’t say much for us, now, does it? I’ve known Hank for a long time. The man sent Charles and me a wedding present. I’m having trouble with all of this, Maggie,” Myra said fretfully. “Charles is…I think Charles would have said something if he…suspected anything was amiss. They’re personal as well as undercover-business friends. They go way back. Who did you send there, and why aren’t you sure if Hank is in residence?”
“It’s not important who I sent. What’s important is that the person had a thermal-imaging camera, and he picked up on three persons in the house. There’s a housekeeper and a grounds-keeper. Jellicoe would make the third person. Or the third person co
uld be the head of his personal security. My person said he’s seen him go into the house and stay for hours. I’m not sure. Like I said, the security at that farm is worthy of Fort Knox.”
“But if Jellicoe is up to something…illegal or…worse, why hasn’t whatever he was planning happened? It’s well over a year, and nothing particular seems to be wrong anywhere, so what is it specifically that is worrying you?” Annie asked.
“If I knew that, Annie, we wouldn’t be sitting here having a picnic in Rock Creek Park away from prying eyes and ears,” Maggie snapped irritably. “I just hate it when it won’t come together and I can’t figure it out.”
Myra threw her hands up in the air. “I know the feeling.” She watched as a fat squirrel scampered toward the blanket. Two blue jays swooped down, then flew off. Annie tossed some of the breading from the fried chicken in the direction of the squirrel, which immediately picked it up and turned tail back to wherever it had come from.
“What should we do?” Annie asked. “Do you think we’re in danger? Do you have a plan?”
“Not yet. But here comes trouble. See that couple heading this way with a paper bag? What do you think the chances are of someone wanting to picnic in this exact spot where we are? Zip, that’s what. Come on, we’re outta here. There are devices on the market that can pick up conversations half a mile away. Farther, too, I’m told. Do not stare. Let’s see where they settle, then we pack up and leave. Act like everything is fine. If either one of you knows a joke, this would be a good time to tell it so we can all laugh.”
“We’re under surveillance? I-do-not-like-that!” Annie hissed as she threw more crumbs toward the squirrel, which had emerged to test the waters a second time.
The women spoke softly about nothing as they watched the newcomers out of the corners of their eyes. All three women took note of the man’s Brooks Brothers loafers, the woman’s heels, and their business attire. There was no blanket being spread. A spur-of-the-moment picnic? A picnic on demand? Whatever was in the paper sack was staying in the paper sack.