“When did you turn into this know-it-all monster, Annie?” Myra demanded, her tone sour and a shade miffed.
“On one of the best days of my life, the day you recruited me to join the Sisterhood. We should have brought some popcorn down here. Munchies always help me to think in high gear.”
“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to muzzle you. This is serious,” Myra said.
“I know that, Myra. I was simply trying to lighten things up a bit. I have no desire to spend my remaining years in jail. So, let’s bat it around and see what we can come up with that will be beneficial to all of us and allay Kathryn’s worries and fears.”
Isabelle spoke first. “I say we take out the reporters first. All we have to do is call either one of them and tell them we have information on the vigilantes. Some dark alley or a sparsely populated area. We converge and…”
“And what?” Kathryn snapped.
“I guess we kidnap them,” Isabelle said. “Have Charles arrange to send them somewhere. Where they are never seen or heard of again. We won’t harm them physically. I think it is definitely doable. Can you live with that, Kathryn?”
“If we can make that happen, then, yes, I can live with that.”
Nikki spoke next. “It says right here on Lizzie Fox’s sheet that she lives in Kalorama. Four doors down from where the ex-national security advisor lives. Remember him? We’re all familiar with that neighborhood. I think we could get in and out of that area pretty easily. Jack and Harry know the neighborhood as well as we do. We can have Lizzie call Riley on the pretext that she has information on the vigilantes. Of course, she’ll have to tell him to come alone without his posse.”
“What will we do with him if this all comes to pass?” Yoko asked.
“Good question,” Alexis said. “I know you don’t want to hear this but the man is doing his job. Sure, he has his own agenda. We can’t really fault him for that. However, having said that, if he is really planning on framing Judge Easter and blackmailing Lizzie Fox, that’s what we’re dealing with. Just so we’re clear here. Do we all understand our motives?”
“I think we do, dear,” Myra said.
Annie smacked her hands together in glee. “Now, let’s discuss those horrid newspaper reporters and their bad behavior and how we can one-up them. I’m sure we can come up with a suitable punishment for all the angst they caused us in the past.”
Maggie Spritzer, armed with a roll of quarters, headed for the courthouse. Twice she looked over her shoulder to see if Ted was following her. Satisfied that she was in the clear, she made her way up the steps, threw her backpack onto the screening machine, waited, and then walked through the security line behind two lawyers who were grumbling about their clients and the jail time that was anticipated. She flinched at how close she might be to needing someone like those two men in front of her.
It took barely fifteen minutes to copy everything she needed. Her next stop was her own newspaper and the archives where she again photocopied everything she could find that pertained to Judge Cornelia Easter. Back at her desk she went online and pulled up profile after profile of Lizzie Fox, going back as far as her high school days where she was voted prom queen and the Girl Most Likely to Succeed. The lady was indeed colorful, no doubt about that. Beauty, brains and guts. She printed everything, even if it didn’t look important or newsworthy. She was jamming it all into her backpack when Ted Robinson plopped down at his desk directly behind hers. She turned off her computer, waved airily and left the newsroom.
The moment Maggie was out of sight, Ted bee-lined to her desk and turned on her computer. Did she think he was stupid? Using her password, Daisy Duck, Ted logged on and within minutes was printing the same information Maggie had printed out just minutes ago. What was she on to?
Lizzie Fox. Attorney at law. Best damn defense lawyer in the District, bar none. Her looks didn’t hurt, either. Attorney to the Ladies of Pinewood aka the Sisterhood, aka the vigilantes. What did Maggie hope to do with this information? The arraignment? Jack Emery and the guy who sat second chair, Spiro something or other. Who else? The judge of course. “Ah, shit!” Ted muttered under his breath as he raced out of the newsroom to head to the courthouse the minute the printer spewed out the last sheet of paper.
Forty minutes later, Ted looked like he’d lost his best friend as he exited the courthouse. She’d beaten him to the punch. He forgot about the love-hate relationship he had with Maggie. “Bitch!” he seethed as he walked along, trying to figure out where he was going and what he had to do when he got there.
He still had Mark Lane. Mark was in Jack Emery’s corner, but still, it wouldn’t hurt to let Lane know he was on his scent. That should shake a few nuts out of the tree. Yeah, yeah, a call to Mark Lane was definitely in order.
As he walked along with no firm destination in mind, a plan began to form. More than pleased with himself, Ted reversed his steps and headed for Squire’s Pub. All he had to do was sit at the bar and order lunch. He’d drop his little bombshell to the first person who sat down next to him. By mid-afternoon, everyone in Alphabet City would “know” the vigilantes were back at work. Right here inside the Beltway. Right under everyone’s nose. By six o’clock the high-tech world they all lived in would announce a sighting of the infamous seven, a message that would go around the world at the speed of light.
“And that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Ted mumbled to himself.
Ted was wrong about one thing, though: it was just four o’clock when Jack’s assistant repeated the rumor to his boss, word for word, along with a few embellishments.
“Tell me that’s just some cockamamie rumor you’re spreading just for the hell of it, Spiro?” Jack snarled.
“Got it straight from the hot dog guy on the corner, Jack. That guy knows shit before the president does.”
“This is probably a stupid question but who are they after?”
“Some bigwig. The smart money is on them. Every politician who so much as spit on the sidewalk is cringing. So says the hot dog guy. What say you, boss? You were opposing counsel. Maybe they’re after you.” Spiro laughed as he made his way down the hall.
Dumbfounded, Jack could only stare into space. What in the hell was going on? He looked around to be sure no one could hear him, then hit the buttons on the encrypted phone. Charles picked up on the first ring. Jack started to babble.
“Are you sure, Jack?”
“I’m sure, Charles. What’s it mean? Turn on the news. There’s sure to be a special bulletin with the full story at six o’clock that will go around the world. Is everything still on track?”
“Yes. I could be wrong but I think this might work to our benefit. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Jack wondered why he didn’t feel any better after the call to Charles. He did call Harry, though, to meet him for a drink after work.
Somehow, Jack managed to get through the next two hours cleaning up his desk and ordering a new pair of running shoes online. At five minutes to six he grabbed his gear and left the office.
Harry was waiting outside Twizzlers, one of DC’s more popular watering holes for the fine legal minds that ran the nation’s capital.
“It’s a zoo in there,” he told Jack. “I stuck my head in just to see what’s going on. All four TVs are tuned to the 24-hour news channels and all they’re doing is talking about the vigilante sightings everyone is claiming. They’re going to run with this for months. What the hell is going on, Jack? Is this karma coming to bite us on the ass or what?”
“You know what, Harry, I don’t have a clue. C’mon, let’s beard the masses and pound a few beers. Our night’s entertainment will be listening to the bar conversation. Five bucks says the sisters are the main topic of conversation. Lookie there, Harry, front and center at the bar. Lizzie Fox,” Jack said, shouldering his way through the crowd to come up behind the defense lawyer.
Harry used his elbows and people moved out of the way to clear a path.
“Two H
einekens!” Jack shouted to be heard over the television and the loud crowd.
Lizzie Fox turned around on the bar stool to reveal an expanse of leg that made Jack’s mouth water. Harry jabbed him in the ribs.
“Well, hi there, Jack!”
Jack reached for the two Heinekens and tossed a twenty-dollar bill at the bartender. He upended the bottle. “Here’s lookin’ at you, Lizzie!”
Lizzie squirmed on the bar stool, the short skirt hiking farther up her legs. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she held up the squat glass of scotch on the rocks. Then she smiled, showing teeth that were so white and shiny, Jack felt like he needed sunglasses. She whirled back around to face the bar but not before she hissed, “Pay attention to the TV, Counselor.”
Chapter 14
Maggie Spritzer eyed Ted over a plate of Chinese takeout. Was it her imagination or did he know how she’d spent her afternoon? She speared a succulent shrimp, stared at it a moment and then popped it into her mouth. Play it cool, she warned herself. Ted can’t read your mind. The thought did nothing to relieve her nervousness. She almost jumped out of her skin when Ted turned up the volume on the little television set on the kitchen counter.
Maggie swallowed the shrimp and glared at the small screen. Her insides started to churn at the news anchor’s excited words. She risked a glance at Ted out of the corner of her eye. How calm he looked. Like he already knew what the anchor was going to say before he said it.
The moment the anchor switched to the local weather, Maggie eyeballed her partner. “What say you, Ted?”
Ted shrugged. “I heard it all earlier today. Went to Squire’s Pub and that’s all they were talking about. I’m not sure I believe it. Those women would be fools to come back here.”
Maggie pushed her plate to the middle of the table. Suddenly her appetite was gone. She did notice that Ted had cleaned his plate, but that was nothing new. Something wasn’t right, she could feel it in her bones. “The one thing those women aren’t is fools. We both know that. It’s probably some stupid rumor someone dreamed up on a slow news day. They’re fugitives, for God’s sake.”
“You said they were smart so that would make them smart fugitives. Rumors have been floating around this crazy city for months now. Who are we to say they aren’t here? If they have us in their sights, we, as in you and I, could be one of their targets. Think about that, Maggie Spritzer. It was you that clicked SEND that day in California. Think about that, too, Ms. Smart-ass Reporter.”
“You know what I think, Mr. Smart-ass Reporter? I think you’re up to something, and you aren’t including me. After all we’ve been through. If that turns out to be true, I would have a very hard time forgiving you. Why don’t we do a show-and-tell, Ted? Remember how we used to do that and then we’d go to bed and have ass-kicking sex?”
Ted jumped up so fast his chair toppled over. “I knew it! I knew it! You’re just using me for sex!” Like he could be so lucky.
Maggie thought about it for a moment. “I suppose we could have sex first and then do the show-and-tell. But…I might be more…energetic and exuberant if we did the show-and-tell first. It’s your call, sweet cheeks.”
Ted was no fool. At least he didn’t think he was. “Define ‘energetic’ and ‘exuberant.’”
“Look them up in the dictionary. Make up your mind by the count of three or the offer goes off the table. One…”
“Okay, I’ll take it.” Sweat beaded the reporter’s forehead. “Sometimes I don’t trust you.”
“Well, guess what, sometimes I don’t trust you, either. Can we call a truce here for a few minutes? Tell me what you have and I’ll tell you what I have. Then we’ll have sex, and after the sex, when I am energetic and exuberant, plus…” Maggie mouthed a word that made Ted throw his head back and howl. “We’ll talk.”
Together they ran to the bedroom, the two cats streaking ahead of them.
Two hours later, Ted would have admitted to being Saddam Hussein’s second-in-command if that’s what Maggie wanted. Instead she leaned over him and cooed, “Now, Teddy boy, tell Maggie everything.”
While Ted and Maggie were billing and cooing, Jack Emery was trying to figure out what Lizzie Fox was up to. The moment the bar stool next to the good-looking attorney became available, Jack sat down and propped his elbows on the bar.
“Can I buy you a drink, Counselor?” he asked magnanimously.
“Well, sure, Jack. And how was your day?”
“Pretty damn good until I got in here and heard the vigilantes are back in town. The thought that I might get another crack at your clients is making me giddy as hell. You should be feeling pretty good yourself, Lizzie.”
Lizzie swivelled around on the bar stool and leaned forward. Jack could smell the scotch on her breath, the perfume on her long, elegant throat. A heady combination along with the silky expanse of leg he could see out of the corner of his eye. “You know what I think, Jack? I think you started that rumor. I think it’s a smoke screen. You know what else I think? I think I would have beaten you in court. You couldn’t find your ass if I handed you a mirror. Nice seeing you again.” She turned around to stare into the mirror over the bar.
Jack turned to Harry, who was standing right behind him. He nodded slightly, which meant, Don’t let her get off the bar stool. Harry returned the nod as he wedged his slim body up against the back of the stool.
“Funny you should say that, Lizzie. I was thinking the same thing about you. Then I asked myself, Why would you do something like that? You know what I came up with? I think Mitch Riley told you to do it. You remember good old Mitch, don’t you? That superstud you were screwing around with in law school. That Mitch Riley. What’s he got on you, Lizzie? Maybe I can help.”
“You! Help me? Pul-eez!”
Jack thought she sounded like she was saying he was the devil with a burning pitchfork ready to spear her. He wiggled his eyebrows and leered at her. Lizzie reared back, uncertain what was coming next. She tried to slide off the bar stool but Harry leaned against it. One look at Harry’s bland expression told her it was time to backpedal.
“You want me to scream, Jack?”
“Why, do you want to scream? If so, go for it. What’s Riley got on you, Lizzie?”
“Not a damn thing and I haven’t seen Mitch Riley in…in years!”
“Your nose just grew a whole inch, Lizzie.” Jack slapped at his forehead. “Damn, I guess you forgot about that little run around the Tidal Basin. Well, I can certainly understand that. I wouldn’t want to be seen running with that crud, either.”
Lizzie didn’t bother to deny or confirm Jack’s words. “Are you having me followed, you son of a bitch?”
Jack held up his empty beer bottle for a refill. “Obviously you have me mixed up with someone who cares what you do. Nope! I do not have a tail on you. Guess somebody does, though. On the other hand, maybe that someone has it out for Riley. You better be careful, Lizzie, or you might get caught in Riley’s crosshairs.”
“Eat shit, Jack. I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else. Tell your goon to ease up or I’m going to scream my lungs out. I mean it.”
Harry stepped back as Lizzie gathered her dignity and fought her way out of the bar. Harry hopped up on the vacated stool. “What’d we learn, Jack? Other than the fact that the chick has great legs, smells good, can hold her liquor and is smarter than you.”
“You gotta be able to read the eyes. She didn’t start the rumor. I don’t think she believes I did, either. She was just throwing out stuff to see if it would stick. I can see Mitch Riley starting a rumor like that. He’ll get a lot of publicity out of it. They’ll be interviewing him 24/7 and it will get the Bureau off his back. That short leash he’s on just got a lot of slack in it. Up till now he’s been chasing his tail. Now all he has to do is sit back and wait to see what happens.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little coincidental that the rumor is floating out there right now, in real time, just when…? You know what I’m say
ing here?”
“Yeah, I do know. Life is full of coincidences or haven’t you realized that yet? I could be off base here thinking it’s Riley. It could be Ted or Maggie. She did come to visit me and I made short work of her. Let’s face it, this city is alive again.” He pointed to the television screen. “They’re still talking about it. We’ll go to sleep tonight listening to it and wake up to hear it all over again. Wanna bet?”
“Nah, it’s a sucker bet. What’s your gut telling you?” Harry asked, swigging from his beer bottle.
“My gut is telling me it’s a crapshoot. There’s no way anyone can know what is about to transpire. So, that has to mean someone else has their own agenda. It makes for fodder for Ted and Maggie. It takes some pressure off Lizzie. As for Riley, it gets him a slight reprieve. Take your pick. Who has the most to gain, to lose?”
Harry looked around nervously. “What about…?”
“No, the judge wouldn’t take a chance. She has too much to lose. Old people lose their edge as they age. They coast to retirement. You know that, Harry. I’m 100 percent certain she has nothing to do with the rumor. My money, for what it’s worth, is on Maggie Spritzer. Her timing is incredible. Guess that’s why she’s a reporter.”
“What’s our next move?” Harry asked.
“I guess we just wait and see what happens.”
“It’s gonna hit the fan, right?”
“Yep,” Jack said as he held up his beer bottle for another refill. “Let’s just drown our sorrows and take a cab home, okay?”
“Works for me, buddy.”
8. Hide and Seek Page 9
