Point Blank

by Fern Michaels

  Annie walked away from the group and looked up at the tall man staring down at her. “Your man is okay, Ms. de Silva. Believe it or not I just found out myself, forty minutes ago, via a text by somebody named Abner Tookus. By okay I mean as well as he can be with the beating he suffered. The Sands replaced his winnings, and we’re in the process of repaying ticket sales. Bert was extremely upset about all of that. For a guy with his credentials, I am having trouble believing he allowed himself to be blindsided the way he was. But that’s water under the bridge, as we say back in the States. Just so you know, Bert and I go way back. We’ve been friends for years.

  “There’s a lot of flak going on over at the Sands, with Bert having beaten the house as badly as he did. Big Al, who is also a friend, assured me that he did it fair and square. But there are some out there, I am sure, who will say that is not the case. What I’ve just told you is the sum total of what I know.

  “Al says he doesn’t know any more than what I’ve just told you. Bert is in good hands. Al and I both have some of our best security watching over him. Just in case. You never know, this is China.

  “By the way, if you and your contingent of people are thinking about going to the hospital, don’t. It’s different over here, ma’am. Let’s not make any waves. If you want to send him a message, give it to me, and I’ll see that he gets it.

  “Since the exhibition was called off, there has been a lot of rumbling going on, some idle, some serious. We’re always mindful of the triads and the tongs here because, as I always say, this is China. Take my advice and get out of here as quick as you can.”

  Annie struggled for a smile but failed. “My plane is ninety minutes out. As much as I don’t want to, I will take your advice. Tell Bert to get in touch when he’s able to. Should I leave money for the hospital bill?”

  “Will do. That’s not necessary. Al and I took care of that already. Over here, you pay in advance, plus tip plus bribe. You know how that goes. Now if I might make an observation, your people seem hungry. How about a dinner in my private dining room for all of you. You did say you have ninety minutes. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Annie said, as she offered up her hand. She motioned for the others to follow her, which they did gladly.

  The meal was a scrumptious affair—jumbo prawns, thick Kobe beef steaks, baked potatoes, and a luscious green salad. The biscuits, Espinosa said, were so light they could float on air. The Tsingtao flowed like water.

  A bevy of waiters were about to serve a delicious five-tier chocolate mousse cake when Todd appeared, and shouted, “Now! Everyone move!”

  Within three minutes flat, the group was in the casino van and being transported to the airport, where they made a mad scramble for the stairs that were being lowered to the ground. They bolted forward, pushing and shoving until they were all on board.

  “Wheels up in ten seconds,” the pilot shouted. They were slicing down the runway before anyone was seated and belted in. They were airborne in less than thirty seconds.

  “What the hell!” Jack shouted.

  Everyone had something to say at the same time. They stopped talking when the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Sorry about the rush, folks. Someone named Big Al called and said to get all your asses airborne as quickly as possible because . . . a detaining party was on the way to take you all in for questioning. I hope that answers any questions you might have. So, folks, lean back and enjoy the ride. Our hostess for the trip is named Sara, and she will be serving beverages in just a few minutes.”

  It wasn’t until they were at a cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet that the group started talking and asking questions of one another. It was Myra who looked around and asked where Kathryn was.

  “Restroom probably,” Nikki said.

  “Nope, both are vacant,” Maggie said.

  “Maybe she’s asleep in the back,” Alexis said.

  “She’s not back here!” Dennis shouted.

  “Did she get on the plane?” Annie asked hoarsely.

  Pandemonium broke out. The end result was that no one could remember seeing Kathryn board the plane. “It all happened so quickly. Harry and I were concentrating on getting Lily and Cooper on board. I just wasn’t paying attention,” Yoko cried.

  “We left her behind?” Fergus said, his expression as shocked as everyone else’s.

  The girls started to wail. The boys started to curse under their breath until Charles let loose with a sharp whistle that created instant silence. Even Cooper stood at attention.

  “Let’s give some thought to the possibility that Kathryn deliberately stayed behind to maybe . . . perhaps, visit Bert. I’m aware of that situation, as are you all. Before we jump to conclusions, let’s be sure we didn’t leave her behind versus she stayed behind on her own.”

  “But this is . . . was China. Is she safe?” Dennis asked.

  “I don’t know, son. I wish I did,” Charles said.

  “We can’t go back,” Nikki said in a choked voice.

  “No, dear, we can’t,” Myra said.

  “But . . .” It was all Isabelle could get past her lips. “I was so sharp with her. I should have minded my own business. She had so much to say to me when Abner and I hit our rough patch. I guess I was trying . . . never mind.” She dabbed at her eyes, then closed them.

  Myra looked over at Charles. “Send Avery a text, dear. Make sure he understands this is a crisis.” Charles nodded as he tapped on the keys. It was all he could do.

  Fergus waved away the hostess with her tray of drinks.

  Myra looked up at Annie, whose eyes were filled with tears. “We never left one of ours behind before. I don’t know what to feel, Annie.”

  The words were no sooner out of Myra’s mouth than Cooper decided to do his wild-hair sprint up and down the aisle, barking so loudly that everyone covered their ears with their hands, except Jack, who narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of the shrill barking. When the dog finally came to a frenzied stop next to him, his tail wagging furiously, the thought went through his head at warp speed. Kathryn was standing inside a hospital room with tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “You sure about that, Coop?” The big dog let loose with a single bark.

  “Okay, then! Yo, people, listen up! I have good news!”

  For the first time the menfolk are stepping

  out of the pages of #1 New York Times best-

  selling author Fern Michaels’s beloved

  Sisterhood series and into the spotlight . . .

  DOUBLE DOWN

  After years of standing by their women, the Sisterhood’s significant others have also become loyal friends. And now Jack Emery, Nikki’s husband, has enlisted Ted, Joe, Jay, Bert, Dennis, and Abner to form a top-secret organization known as BOLO Consultants.

  Jack has two missions in mind. The first: offering some behind-the-scenes help to Nikki’s law firm as they take on the all-powerful Andover Pharmaceuticals. Andover’s anti-leukemia drug causes terrible side effects in young patients, but a class-action suit seems doomed to fail. BOLO Consultants have a prescription to cure that. Meanwhile, Virginia’s lieutenant governor has a sideline as a slum landlord, and his impoverished tenants are suffering. Tyler Sandford believes his status puts him above the law. But when the Sisterhood and their allies decide to get involved, no one is beyond the reach of true justice . . .

  Turn the page for a special look!

  A Zebra mass-market paperback

  and eBook on sale now.

  Jack Emery propped his chin on his cupped hands and looked out the window of the Bagel Emporium at the blustery weather outside. His thoughts traveled back in time to a year ago, to the last day that Emanuel Macklin was seen. A lot had happened in the past year. Much of his life, and the lives of his friends, had been turned upside down. And sometimes he had a hard time coming to terms with the way all of it had happened at what seemed to be the speed of light.

  He was a free agent these days. Right after the f
irst of the year, he’d left his wife’s, Nikki’s, law firm, with her reluctant approval, supposedly to write a book. It was something that never happened. He’d done some consulting work for a few months, but that hadn’t worked either. He’d then stepped into his old shoes at the district attorney’s office, prosecuted two cases, and walked away. He’d won both cases but they were both on appeal. Some smart-ass defense attorney would come up with some frigging loophole, and the bad guys would be right back out on the street. So, disillusioned, he’d thrown in the towel and walked away, frustrated and angry at a criminal justice system that seemed to coddle the criminals and leave the good guys, the victims, to fend for themselves.

  Jack’s eyes were glued to the redbrick building across the street from where he was sitting. His building. Well, not totally his. He, along with Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, Harry Wong, Bert Navarro, and Jay Sparrow, owned the building. They’d invested the bonus money they’d gotten years ago when they worked for Hank Jellicoe, money that none of them had ever touched until a few months ago, when he convinced his little band of avengers that this was what they needed to do. This meaning buying the six-thousand-square-foot brick building, refurbishing it, and going into business together. Into a business that was completely off the grid. And today was move-in day.

  In a shopping bag at his feet, he had a bottle of champagne, crystal wine flutes, and a jug of tea for Harry so they could christen their new business in—he looked down at his watch— ten more minutes. Next to the shopping bag was Cyrus, a huge, sleek, 140-pound black German shepherd, who was his new best friend forever. Cyrus was two years old and, as far as Jack was concerned, half human and half dog. Cyrus was so in tune with Jack, he knew what Jack was going to do before Jack knew himself.

  Four months ago, he had stopped in for his morning bagel while Cyrus waited outside. While he waited in line for his coffee and bagel, the door opened, and a man bellowed, “Everyone on the floor!” As he was dropping to the floor to obey the robber’s orders, Jack saw a black streak clear the door with inches to spare. In the blink of an eye, all 140 pounds of ferocious dog propelled the robber to the floor, then sat on him. Jack, in a lightning move, scooped up the gun the man had been brandishing while Domingo Lopez, known to his patrons as Ding, called the police. Cyrus was the hero of the day, and, as Ding said, “I don’t care what the Health Department’s rules are, Cyrus can come in here anytime.” His patrons agreed, and everyone else looked the other way. Jack reached down to pat the magnificent dog on the head. Cyrus nuzzled his hand.

  Jack returned to his thoughts as he stared out the window. The weatherman had predicted a possibility of snow flurries later in the day. It was, after all, December, so snow flurries were to be expected. Just like last year, when the same prediction led to three weeks of arctic air and so much snow that the District had to shut down because there was nowhere else to move the white stuff.

  So much had happened during that short period of time. Charles Martin had flown the coop, Jack and Nikki had hit a rough patch, and he’d resigned, to her initial chagrin. But in the end, she agreed because she just wanted him to be happy with his life. During the past year, her twelve-member all-female law firm took on six new associates and seven new paralegals. The expansion was needed to deal with three class-action lawsuits that would make the firm kazillions of dollars. If the workload didn’t kill everyone first. All they had to do was work twenty hours a day to make it happen. Sometimes, he didn’t see or talk to his wife for days at a time. What the hell kind of life was that? Things were still sticky between the two of them, but they were both trying to work it all through. Alexis Thorn, Joe Espinosa’s significant other, had given Espinosa the boot shortly before Valentine’s Day, saying she preferred her job to a relationship, and she hoped that he understood that she couldn’t do both. Espinosa did not understand, any more than Jack did. They’d cried into their beers way too many times the last ten months.

  Maggie Spritzer was back at the Post as the EIC after John Cassidy resigned because he didn’t have enough time to go fly-fishing. It had taken a lot of sweet-talking on Annie de Silva’s part to get Maggie back in harness, but, finally, all the perks Annie dangled in front of Maggie won her over, and she was once again calling the shots at the Post. Not a bad thing, Jack had decided at the time. Or as Ted put it, “She’s out of our hair for now.”

  Jack’s little “guy group,” as he called it, had three new exclusive members and one long-distance member. The other members referred to it as “an off-the-grid spy group,” whatever the hell that meant. The name conjured up all kinds of weird images and possible scenarios. Bert Navarro was the long-distance member. Dennis West, cub reporter and Ted Robinson, hero worshipper, as well as a new billionaire, Abner Tookus, hacker extraordinaire, and Jack Sparrow, who out of necessity was called Jay for a little while, were the latest recruits to the off-the-grid avengers club.

  Jack let his thoughts wander to Myra and Annie, who had settled in for the long winter ahead. The last time he’d checked with Myra, she was knitting. Knitting. She’d said she was making a scarf that was two miles long, and she needed a wagon to carry it in. Or, as Annie put it, one long line of colored yarn filled with sloppy stitches. Annie said she was taking cooking lessons and brushing up on her pole dancing. She had mumbled something about feathers on shoes, or maybe it was her white cowboy boots that she always wore, but he hadn’t understood a word of what she was saying. What he did understand was that, unlike the others, who were running themselves ragged, she and Myra were bored out of their minds.

  Women! He would never understand them. Never!

  Isabelle Flanders Tookus was still in England, designing a new-age city, and had no downtime available for Abner, which pretty much left him at loose ends and ready to dive into the guy group. Yoko, it appeared, at least according to Harry, was happier than a pig in a mud slide with her plant nursery and raising Lily, which left precious little time for Harry, who these days was meaner than a wet cat on a treadmill.

  Kathryn Lucas, fiancée of Bert Navarro, thrived on driving the open roads in her eighteen-wheeler, making two stops a month in Las Vegas for, as Bert put it, booty calls. He also said theirs would be the longest engagement in history because Kathryn had no intention of ever marrying again. Bert said he was okay with the engagement because he had no other options, and he loved Kathryn heart and soul.

  Cyrus raised his head, then reared up. He’d heard the sound of Harry’s Ducati before Jack had. “Okay, big guy, do your thing while I pay the bill.” Doing his thing meant going from table to table to offer up his paw and, with luck, get a little treat from his friends at the other tables. When he finished his rounds, he barked, and Ding came out from behind the counter and handed the big dog a monster dog treat. Cyrus barked, offered up his paw, and waited for Jack to open the door. Ham that he was, Cyrus turned and bowed. The patrons loved it and always clapped. Jack said, “You are the biggest ham I’ve ever seen, Cyrus. Hero worship is a sin. Do you know that?” Cyrus barked, waited for a break in traffic, and raced across the road to greet Harry, who obligingly ruffled his ears.

  “Hi, Harry!”

  “Hi, Jack!”

  “Let’s walk around back so we can all go in together. I want us all to oooh and aaah at the same time. Ted just turned the corner, and I think I saw Sparrow come in from the other direction. Haven’t seen Abner yet, though. Oops, there he goes. How’s it going, Harry?”

  “It’s going, Jack. You?”

  “It’s going, Harry. You up for this gig?” Never long on words, Harry said, “I’m here.” “Let’s do it!” Jack said as he picked up his feet and raced to the back alley behind the newly remodeled property, where the guys were waiting for them. Cyrus barked a greeting, then offered his paw. It was a ritual that had to be observed, or Cyrus would bark relentlessly until the others made it happen. Satisfied that he had all the attention he needed, the big dog stood back while Jack allowed the retina scanner to check his eyeball, then listened
for the hydraulic hiss of the door opening at their new, off-the-grid digs.

  Photo by M2IFOTO © 2006

  About the Author

  FERN MICHAELS is the USA Today and New York Times bestselling author of the Sisterhood and Godmothers series and dozens of other novels and novellas. There are over seventy-five million copies of her books in print. Fern Michaels has built and funded several large day-care centers in her hometown, and is a passionate animal lover who has outfitted police dogs across the country with special bulletproof vests. She shares her home in South Carolina with her four dogs and a resident ghost named Mary Margaret.

  Visit her website at fernmichaels.com.

  NO SAFE SECRET

  In her powerful new novel, #1 New York Times

  bestselling author Fern Michaels weaves a story of

  betrayal, courage, and starting over . . .

  From her silver Mercedes to her designer kitchen, Molly’s life is gleaming and beautiful—at least on the surface. Married to Tanner, a top cosmetic dentist, she has a wonderful daughter finishing high school and twin stepsons from Tanner’s first marriage. No one in her exclusive neighborhood in Goldenhills, Massachusetts, knows what living with the demanding Tanner is really like. They know even less about the life she left behind in Florida almost two decades ago.

  Back then, Molly was Maddy Carmichael, living with her twin brother and neglectful mother in a run-down trailer park amid the orange groves of Florida. After the terrible events of her high school prom night—and the act of vengeance that followed—she fled north and reinvented herself. But the veneer of Molly’s polished existence is finally cracking.