8. Hide and Seek

by Fern Michaels

  Her shoulders thrown back, her teeth clenched, Alice marched down the hall and knocked at Mitch’s private door. He growled something indistinguishable and then opened the door.

  “I’m getting ready to leave for the shop. I was thinking about Josh and how much he’s done for the Bureau. Since you’re a man and men think with their lower extremities, I thought I would pass on a thought. If you want good press, if you want to look like you’re ready to step into Josh’s shoes, you might want to think about carrying out a personal vigil at his bedside.”

  “And you’re telling me this…why?”

  Alice sniffed. “Because I don’t want to be tarred with the same brush you’re going to be tarred with. Make no mistake, I hate your goddamn guts. I’m thinking about myself and our daughter. Never you.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the house. Mindful of the GPS tracker under her car, she headed for her boutique, parked in the lot, removed the tracker and placed it underneath a weeping willow tree whose fronds covered the tracker completely.

  Within minutes she was back on the road and heading for home. She battled with her thoughts: Would Mitch’s car be in the driveway or wouldn’t it be in the driveway?

  Alice turned the corner to her street fifteen minutes later. She felt relieved at the sight of the empty driveway. She took great, gulping breaths as she climbed out of the car that she’d backed up against the garage door. In fifteen minutes she had the four boxes loaded into her trunk. She closed the door, fished for the key to Mitch’s secure office and proceeded to systematically go through what he’d been working on. She was so nervous, she didn’t bother to look at anything. All she did was study his work area to make sure she put everything back the way she found it. It took her a full thirty-eight minutes to copy everything. When she was finished, she dumped it all in a brown grocery bag. Ten minutes later, a cola in hand, she was back on the road.

  Alice drove until she found a crowded parking lot at a local Burger King. She went through the drive-thru, ordered a Whopper, fries and another Coke that she didn’t want, collected her change and then parked at the far end of the lot. Now she could relax. She leaned her head against the headrests and closed her eyes. What had she just done? What was she going to do? She opened her eyes to look down at the untraceable cell phone on the passenger seat.

  For the life of her, she couldn’t remember if the cell phone was part of Plan A, B or C. Her thoughts whirled. Did she have the guts to do what she was contemplating? Had she lost her mind today? Without further thought, Alice got out of the car, popped the trunk and opened one of the boxes. She lifted out a three-inch-thick printout that she’d copied. The phone numbers and addresses of every politician in Washington, DC, every judge, every law enforcement officer, every lobbyist, every federal employee were on that list. She struggled to carry the heavy block of paper to the passenger side of the car. She slid it onto the seat and then climbed back in the car. Before she could change her mind she riffled through the pages until she found the home phone number of Judge Easter. The contents of the Burger King bag went on the floor. She smoothed out the bag and scribbled the home number as well as the cell and office numbers on the bag. She then repeated the process two more times for Lizzie Fox and Jack Emery.

  Alice felt so lightheaded she thought she was going to faint. She tried again to take gulping breaths of the early evening air. Just do it, her mind shrieked.

  “All right, all right,” she muttered. Who to call first? She wrestled with her thoughts and finally decided to call Jack Emery. Before she could change her mind, she punched in the land line at Jack’s Georgetown home. His voice was deep, pleasant sounding. Even friendly. Alice took a deep breath.

  “Mr. Emery?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Mr. Emery, for reasons you will soon hear about, I cannot tell you who I am right now. Please listen to me very carefully because I won’t answer questions nor will I repeat what I’m about to tell you. I’m sure you’ve heard that Josh Carpenter had a near-fatal accident today. The assistant director, Mitchell Riley, will be stepping up to the plate and his first order is going to be to arrest Judge Easter, Attorney Liz Fox and you, Mr. Emery. I have four boxes of documents I’m willing to turn over to you about Riley’s…shall we say, shady comings and goings.

  “He’s manufactured a case against the three of you. I might be wrong about this but I think the moment Josh Carpenter dies, the three of you will be arrested. I’m giving you a few hours’ heads-up. I wish I could do more but I can’t. I’m not some quack. If you agree, I will drop off four boxes of photocopied documents for you in Saint Theresa’s cemetery. Meet me there at eight o’clock. I’ll leave the boxes by the second statue on the way down the gravel road that leads to the main part of the cemetery. The main gates are closed at six o’clock, but there is a small walk-through gate a little to the south of the main gate. It’s never locked. Will you pick up the boxes? Just say yes or no.”

  Stunned at what he’d just heard, Jack asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  “I have my reasons. Yes or no, Mr. Emery?”

  “Okay. How reliable is your…what’s in the box? What about the judge and Lizzie Fox?”

  “You can take it to the bank, Mr. Emery. Will you call the judge and Ms. Fox to alert them?”

  Jack struggled with his thoughts. All he could think about was Nikki—and her arrival within hours. Her destination was the judge’s farm in McLean. He felt sick to his stomach. “I would but I don’t have the judge’s phone number. I don’t think I have Lizzie’s, either.”

  “Do you have a pencil?”

  “You have the judge’s private, unlisted number?” Jack asked in awe.

  “And her cell phone number. I have Ms. Fox’s numbers, too. Are you ready to copy the numbers down?”

  “I’m ready.”

  Alice rattled off the numbers. “Mr. Emery, if you don’t pick up these boxes, this town could implode. I want your word as an officer of the court that you will pick up these boxes. I’m putting myself in great danger by doing this and I want your assurance that this isn’t going to explode in my face.”

  “I’ll do what you want. How do I get in touch with you if I need…if I have to talk to you?”

  “This is a one-shot deal, Mr. Emery. I won’t be calling you again. Do what you have to do. I’m going to hang up now. Call those women before you leave. Alert them before it’s too late.”

  Alice scrambled out of the car, ran over to the darkest part of the lot and retched. All the coffee she’d consumed back at the house spewed forth.

  Back on the road, she did her best to compute the driving time for Emery from Georgetown to Saint Theresa’s. The best she could come up with was that she would have about a twenty-minute window of time to unload the boxes, stash her car, and find someplace to hide so she could make sure the boxes were picked up. Only then would she feel comfortable enough to have a nervous breakdown.

  Forty-five minutes later, Alice stashed the last box behind the huge statue. It was almost dark now. Exhausted, she parked her car farther down the road and then made her way back to the cemetery where she hid behind a headstone with a giant angel on top. She slid down against the back of the stone, willing herself to be calm. For one wild moment, she thought she was going to black out after she saw a pair of headlights approaching the walk-through gate. She waited, hardly daring to breathe, until she spotted Jack Emery. Then she relaxed and started to cry softly into the sleeve of her shirt.

  It was out of her hands now. She hoped Jack Emery would know what to do with what she’d just given him.

  Alice waited for a full fifteen minutes before she left the cemetery. She was still crying when she turned the key in the ignition. She cried all the way home.

  Chapter 19

  It wasn’t until Jack had called the judge and Lizzie, and was back on the road, that he realized he couldn’t return to Nikki’s house in Georgetown. Parking on the street was his only option, and he was under con
stant surveillance. He couldn’t take a chance of anyone seeing him carrying the boxes into the house.

  Where should he go? He took his eyes off the road for a nanosecond to check the time on the dashboard clock. Nikki and the others would be landing soon at Reagan Airport. The pickup wasn’t going to be a problem, but where to stash the women was now a monumental problem. His guts churned with fear as he fumbled with the special cell phone. Charles’s voice was crystal clear on the other end. Jack never babbled; he babbled now. When he finally wound down and took a deep breath, Charles’s questions came faster than bullets.

  “I don’t know who she is…was,” Jack told him. “All I know is I have the files in the SUV and I’m driving around the District like some crazy fool. I can’t go home. If Riley is the Second Coming of J. Edgar, we’re all in deep shit. Tell me you have a Plan B, Charles.”

  “I don’t have a Plan B, Jack. This was foolproof. There was no way to anticipate Mr. Carpenter’s accident. Are you sure Nellie can make it safely to the tunnels under Myra’s house?”

  “She said she could. She’s taking all four cats. She’s pissed, Charles. Did you ever talk to her when she was pissed? It’s not pretty. I learned a whole new language. How long can she stay there?”

  “As long as she has to stay. She knows the score. What about Miss Fox?”

  “She didn’t take it too well. She promised to vacate the premises immediately and said she would call me as soon as she was safe. She’s got a story to tell, too. I had to admit I was one of you. It was the only way she would agree to cooperate. I am not worried about them, I’m worried about Nik and the others.”

  “Will you feel any better if I tell you I’m worried myself? I’m going to hang up now and get to work. Keep driving around until I call you back. Has there been an update on the director’s condition?”

  “He’s on life support. Riley is at his bedside. I just heard that ten minutes ago.”

  “Stay alert, Jack.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jack snorted as he snapped the cell phone shut. He tossed it on the passenger seat. He reached inside his jacket pocket for his regular cell phone to call Harry Wong. He didn’t bother with a greeting. “Your guys at the airport, Harry?”

  “Yeah. What’s going on, Jack?”

  Jack told Harry about the unidentified caller and the trip to the cemetery.

  “I called Charles and he said I was to keep driving around. Do I have to tell you how nervous I am? Hell, I don’t even know if I was followed to the cemetery. I did everything I could to make sure I didn’t have a tail but those Gold Shields are pretty good at this kind of shit. Your guys are going to have to drive the women around until Charles gets back to me. I’m thinking maybe he’s going to tell us to go to Marie Lewellen’s old house. You know that place. Myra owns it now and it’s always ready for emergency use. I don’t think the Feds know about it. Give your guys the address so if Charles okays it, they can head straight there. I don’t like the idea that they’re going to be out in the open. Some damn crazy dude can queer this up without even trying. They need to be out of sight. In case you haven’t heard, Carpenter is on life support. Riley is standing vigil.”

  Harry’s voice turned jittery. “Are we going to be able to keep the girls safe? This wasn’t supposed to happen. The Brit said it was a piece of cake.”

  “Yeah, well, he was wrong. He admitted he doesn’t have a Plan B. I guess it’s up to you and me. Call me the minute the girls are in the van and on the road.”

  “You got it.”

  Jack’s cell phone rang again when he pulled to a stop at a red light. Lizzie Fox. “Are you safe somewhere?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am. No names, okay? If you’re as smart as I think you are, sweetie, I’m going to give you a clue. You want to swing by and give a girl a lift?”

  Jack bit down on his lower lip. “Yeah, sure.”

  “You know how I hate to exercise, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take your pick, there are two of them.”

  Jack’s mind raced. “People or houses?”

  “Now what do you think? Don’t make me wait all night. I’m cranky and I don’t do well when I get cranky. If you have what you say you have, it’s a walk in the park for you. Any news?”

  “The director is on life support. Riley is standing vigil. Just heard it on the radio. By the way, I’m driving an SUV. I’ll slow down but won’t come to a complete stop. Make a run for it.” Jack broke the connection. He was surprised at how light the traffic was as he cruised down 14th Street. God, how he hated neon lighting.

  Jack waited for a break in the traffic and made an illegal U-turn. It was probably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done, considering what he was carrying in his truck. Later he would think about his stupidity. Now he had to figure out where the hell Lizzie Fox was. Outside Mitch Riley’s house? Hiding in the bushes? Inside Maggie Spritzer’s apartment? Hiding in the entryway? What little he knew about Lizzie told him she’d go to Riley’s house. She’d see something poetic in being right under his nose, plus he lived near her house…no need to exercise.

  The encrypted cell phone rang. “Marie Lewellen’s house.”

  Before Jack could blink the connection was broken. “I’m one step ahead of you, Charles,” Jack said to himself.

  Jack called Harry. “I was right, buddy, it’s Marie Lewellen’s. Get your ass over there right now so you can be a welcoming committee of one. I’m picking up our lawyer friend as soon as I can find her. I’ll bring her to the house. Listen, I need to hang up because I have to pay attention to the street signs. Call Charles and find out if there’s anything we can do to spring our other friend. Both of those farms are going to be crawling with Feds come morning. Who’s picking up Nik?”

  “Will do. I dispatched two of my guys to pick them up. Guess this kind of explains why he wanted us back here, huh?”

  Jack shuddered. “Yeah, I guess it does. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if we weren’t on the scene. I sure would like to know who our benefactor is.” Jack realized he was again talking to himself when Harry didn’t offer up a response.

  Jack exited Rock Creek Park and headed for the development where the assistant director of the FBI lived. He was right—all the houses were landscaped with old shrubbery, excellent for hiding. Not too many people burned their outside lights, he noticed when he turned the corner that led to Riley’s house. It was totally dark. He slowed to a crawl, reaching over to unlock the passenger side door. He dimmed his lights.

  She was in the SUV before he could blink, and was buckling her seat belt. “I do like a man who is punctual. Nice going, Emery. I wasn’t sure if you got it or not. You prosecutors aren’t as smart as us defense lawyers.”

  Jack took his eyes off the road for a second. “Stuff it, Lizzie. Who’s on the run and who’s driving this fine vehicle? I rest my case, Counselor.”

  “You know what, Jack? I’m never wrong.”

  “You know what, Lizzie? I’m never wrong, either. So, stick it in your ear and shut up. I need to think.”

  Lizzie ignored him. “What about the judge? Are you just going to hang her out to dry? If you’re afraid to go get her, tell me exactly where she is and I’ll go.”

  Jack swerved to avoid a white van turning the corner without its signal lights flashing. “I thought I told you to shut up?”

  “Do you see how I’m listening to you? Where are we going?”

  Jack pulled up to a stop sign. “To a safe house. Look, I want to get the judge, too. She’s a federal judge, Lizzie, she’s got security. Both of those farmhouses are under surveillance and you damn well know it. She can hole up at Myra’s for years and no one will know. Not an ideal situation but it’s what we’re dealing with. For now.”

  “The clock’s ticking. How much time do we have until…?”

  “I don’t know. Morning would be my best guess. Did you ever hear that sick people usually die in the early hours of the morning?”
<
br />   “Yes, I’ve heard that. Josh Carpenter was a good man. I know him well. A real family man, dedicated to the Bureau, and he was fair. He always looked at both sides of everything. Old school. I hate to think what Riley will do to his beloved Bureau if he gets in.”

  “I never heard a bad word about Carpenter. We’re almost there. Keep a sharp eye, Lizzie. I don’t think I picked up any tails along the way but you never know. I need to stash this truck and use the one in the garage from here on in.”

  “Jack, look at me, read my lips. I don’t give a hoot about your car, your truck or any of that other crap. I want to get the judge. WE need to get the judge.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll run it by the others. Will you shut up now so I can think?”

  “You want me to be quiet? I can’t be quiet. What kind of neighborhood is this? It looks familiar. I’ve seen these houses on television. I know I have. I have a photographic memory. Where the hell are we, Jack?”

  “One more word and I’m going to kill you. K-I-L-L you!”

  Lizzie clamped her lips together and turned to look out the window. She wasn’t sure but she rather thought the man she was driving with meant every word he said.

  Ten minutes later, Jack pressed the button to raise the windows. He slowed and then turned right into the driveway of Marie Lewellen’s house. To him it would always be Marie’s house. The garage door slid open. In the headlights, he could see Harry guiding him into the garage. The door closed just as he turned off the engine.

  “I know whose house this is,” Lizzie said. “That woman who shot the guy on the courthouse steps. Myra Rutledge paid her bail and she skipped out with her family. You blew that one, Jack. So is she a member of the Sisterhood?”

  Jack didn’t answer. He turned to Harry, who was standing next to his car window. “You hear anything?”

  “They landed safe and sound. They’re on the way. With no baggage to claim they should be here in forty minutes. I made coffee.”