Pearl was in the right frame of mind when the text came through from Myra. She responded immediately, saying she would be there with a bell around her neck. And she would be there. When she gave her word on something, there was nothing in the world that could make her go back on a promise. Now for sure she had something to look forward to. And if her calculations were spot on, she might be able to enjoy the gourmet dinner she was sure Charles would be whipping up.
Pearl read the short text again. Annie had just gone to Vegas, and yet she was back. Obviously, she’d been kicked out of her own casino. Again. And Maggie Spitzer was back in town. For sure, that had to mean something. Being as astute as she was, Pearl immediately decided that Maggie’s marriage had gone south. A twofer. Two words came to Pearl’s agile mind. Danger and action. There were no words in her vocabulary to describe how much she loved both danger and action. She dived into her plate of beans and legumes and ate with a vengeance. She swigged down almost a liter of water and swore to herself that she immediately felt better. Yessiree, by tomorrow she’d be full of piss and vinegar. She would spend the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to shake the man who was constantly tailing her. As she hobbled about the kitchen, her thoughts traveled to Martine Connor as she wondered if she’d be a no-show for tomorrow’s meeting. Myra had told her a few days ago that Martine was in the Far East or some damn place surrounded by sand doing God only knew what. Giving speeches for money just to have something to do because she swore on the Bible that she was not going to be one of those presidents who wrote their memoirs and had a library named after them so they could display her book. She liked Marti Connor. Really liked her. The translation of the word like meant the ex-prez was her kind of woman. Didn’t she get them those fancy gold shields? Now, that took guts, but she’d gone up against the good ol’ boys and gotten it done. And it was irreversible.
As Pearl settled herself for the evening in her family room, she admitted she could hardly wait for the hours to pass so she could drive out to Pinewood.
Danger.
Action.
Words to live by as far as she was concerned.
Martine Connor, Marti to friends, looked across at her Secret Service agent and winced. She liked Jessie Palmer, she really did, but she’d had enough of her. This trip to the Far East was it, as far as she was concerned. When she got back to the States next week, she was going to act on her less-than-lame plan to discontinue the service, to which she was entitled for the rest of her life. The bottom line was that Jessie Palmer was cramping her style, and she’d had enough. Enough!
What the hell was she doing in this godforsaken country anyway? In thirty-six hours, she’d given six speeches, eaten shitty food, and pocketed a boatload of cash she neither wanted nor needed. How she had allowed herself to be persuaded to come here was something she still hadn’t figured out. But here she was on her way to some putrid luncheon where she would pretend to eat, after which she would give an hour-long speech on a subject she pretended to care about, and which had to be translated for the people who were pretending to listen.
An incoming text made Marti sit upright in the back of the limousine she was riding in. Jessie Palmer looked over at the ex-president of the United States and frowned. She needed to know what the text said, but she knew if she asked, her charge would blow up at her. Blowing up was happening a lot these past few months, and she knew in her gut she was on a short leash. “Good news?” she asked lightly.
Marti burst out laughing as she deleted the message. “You have no idea how good it is. Okay, Jessie, here’s the plan. After this speech today, rev up the engines, I’m going home. Cancel everything else. Tell them I have a bellyache, a fungus, a bug—I don’t care, but I want wheels up the minute I’m out of that palace. Do not argue, do not ask questions. If you can’t do that, I can fly home commercial. Do it! Now, Jessie!”
“But . . . but . . .”
“There are no buts. Just do it.”
Jessie wasn’t about to give up. “Diplomatic relations . . .”
“Okay, then I’ll do it myself and probably not as diplomatically as you can do it. What’s it going to be? You know I never mince words.”
Jessie Palmer cringed when she thought about Martine Connor’s vocabulary when no one was around, and even sometimes when people were around. The lady simply didn’t care what she said, when she said it, if she had a point to make she thought no one was getting. With a heavy sigh, she started to tap out text messages. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the wicked gleam in Connor’s eyes as she, too, tapped out a message on her BlackBerry.
Marti felt a giggle in her throat that she did her best to squelch. She typed. Am on the way. Do not start without me.
Marti stared out the bulletproof window. Sand. Sand everywhere. She hated sand. She hated the hot, dry air. She hated the car she was sitting in. It smelled even though it was clean. At least it looked clean. She knew she would smell just like the car until she could shower and change her clothes. Since that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, she knew she would smell until she arrived back in the States. Well, she could live with that since she had no other choice.
She was going home. Thank you, God! Back to the land of freedom. Back to breaking the law with her sisters to make sure justice got served. God, just the thought had her tingling all over.
Charles did his best to hide his grin when Annie sashayed into the kitchen. “You’re looking well this morning, Annie. I hope you’re up to a good breakfast,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Knock it off, Charles. I know how I look, and yes, I’m up for a good breakfast. What are you serving? By the way, I heard the shower going, so I’m thinking Maggie will be joining us shortly.” She looked over at Myra, who, in Annie’s opinion, looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “How long have you been up, Myra?”
“Actually, Annie, I didn’t go to bed. I took a middle-of-the-night walk with Charles, then we sat here drinking tea until the sun came up,” Myra fibbed. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did. I think I dreamed all night about what Maggie is going to tell us when she joins us for breakfast.”
“I have to admit that while I didn’t dream, I did discuss the possibilities with Charles,” Myra said as she fingered her pearls.
The swinging door leading into the dining room swung open. Maggie, freshly showered, her corkscrew curls still wet, ran to Charles and hugged him. “Ooooh, this smells so good. I missed your cooking, Charles.” She turned around and announced cheerily, “It’s like old times. Well, almost.”
“Maggie, dear, we agreed yesterday that yesterday and the days before yesterday are gone. We’re only looking forward from here on in. You didn’t change your mind, did you?” Myra said.
“No. Absolutely not. I know better than anyone that you can’t go home again. That doesn’t mean that going forward won’t be better. I believe it will be. The memories will always be there to be looked at when the time is right or needed. I can do it.”
“Of course you can, dear. And you have a great backup system, that will be here for you twenty-four/seven. There are times in all of our lives when we need someone to help us take the next step. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say, Maggie,” Myra said gently.
“I know that, Myra. Why do you think this is the first place I ran to?”
Annie clapped her hands. “Okay, enough of that. Tell us what you hinted at yesterday. Myra and I can hardly wait to hear what you have to say.”
“I’m sorry, ladies, but whatever Maggie has to say will have to wait. You all know my rule.”
“Ah, yes, no business talk at the table. And the reason for that is so we can all appreciate your culinary endeavors. We get it, Charles.” Myra smiled.
“Then let’s gobble this down quickly,” Annie said as she dived into her pancakes, which looked so light and fluffy she thought they might fly upward.
A devil perched itself on Charles’s shoulder. “Chew each bite twenty-two times. As
you all know, I do not stock antacids in this house. I refuse to accept that my cooking will give anyone indigestion. Chew, ladies. In addition, when one is excited while eating and conversing with excitement, one swallows air, which then leads to gas.”
“Stuff it, Charles. We’ve heard it all before. Look,” Annie said, pointing to her plate, “I’m done unless you want me to lick the syrup off the plate.”
“I’m finished, too,” Myra said, a glint in her eye.
Charles didn’t bother to answer when he pointed to Maggie’s plate, which was still piled high with his special fluffy pancakes. The mound of crisp bacon was still on the side of her plate and yet to be devoured.
Annie groaned and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She looked at Myra, who sighed in resignation and held out her cup for a refill.
It seemed like forever before Maggie finished her breakfast. Myra and Annie waited a few moments for Charles to whisk away the plates before they started to grill Maggie. “Talk!” they said in unison.
Maggie looked around the table. Suddenly, she felt like she was on display. She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you’re going to be interested or not, but I know that when I read about it and saw the media coverage, I thought of you. Do you remember that judge in Pennsylvania a few years ago who was arrested for sending children to boot camps and getting kickbacks from the developers who built the camps? Kids as young as ten who later, it was found out, didn’t need to go to such places. One youngster committed suicide. It was all over the news. They were hellholes of misery for those kids. He raked in millions of dollars. Do you remember it?”
“Yes, it was horrible,” Myra said. Annie and Charles both nodded that they, too, remembered what she was talking about.
“I saw that poor mother being interviewed. That miserable cretin of a judge showed no sign of remorse at the boy’s death, and said the money he was paid was finder fees. The developer said it was a kickback. The judge got sentenced to twenty-eight years in prison.”
“If the judge is in prison, what do you think we can do? I don’t understand,” Charles said.
“I guess I didn’t make myself clear. The Pennsylvania judge and what he did was an example, just a starting point. The criminal justice system actually worked that time, and the system took care of him. He’ll probably die in prison.
“But something along the same lines is happening in Baywater, Maryland, where I just came from, only there are two judges, and both of them are free as the breeze. They’re twins. They preside over family court, juvenile court, and civil court. Eunice and Celeste Ciprani are their names. They come from a very political family that goes back like forever. From what I can gather, they are untouchable.”
“No one is untouchable,” Annie said vehemently.
“Then you don’t know the Ciprani twins,” Maggie said. “Listen, I came into this whole thing a little late. Actually, I just started hearing about it the week before I came here. At first I thought it was just local politics, but then I overheard a few things, read a few things, and asked some questions. I got shut down real quick, so my antenna went up, and I came here. I think it’s something that needs to be looked into. The local papers are on the side of the twins. There was one weekly paper with a young reporter who took a stab at it, and if I’m right, got shot down; and the weekly printed a retraction.”
“What did these twin judges do?” Myra asked, her interest piqued.
“I don’t mean to sound vague, but I’m not sure. What I was able to glean from the little I heard and read was something along the lines of that judge in Pennsylvania but on a grander scale. Remember now, I was more or less out of it for ten months and wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me. It was only when I finally came out of the fog I was living in that my reporter instinct kicked in. It’s all there. I can feel and smell the corruption. I know I’m right. I’d like to work on it with Ted and Espinosa, then have you ladies step in.”
“So what you’re saying is the whole court system in Baywater is corrupt, is that right?” Charles asked.
“The twins control the courthouse. At least that’s what I’ve been told. In addition, it appears that all the family money was gone. And judges don’t make the kind of money to support the lifestyle those two judges enjoy. We would need to delve into that. Abner Tookus can help if he’s still in the game. They have a big mansion on Chesapeake Bay. Those don’t come cheap. If there’s no old family money, where did they get the funds to pay for it? They drive high-dollar cars. And it doesn’t hurt that they look like movie stars and dress and act like movie stars.”
“Ooooh,” Annie said, clapping her hands in excitement. “I’m liking how this is sounding. How old are these twin judges? Do you know?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve only seen pictures. I’d say early fifties if you discount the Botox. From the pictures I’ve seen, they both look like they’ve been nipped and tucked, sliced and diced. Hey, I’m just a reporter. I report what I see.”
Annie and Myra laughed out loud.
“Any paramours in the picture?” Charles asked. He looked to the ladies like he wasn’t quite getting it. The ladies continued to laugh.
“No clue, Charles. I’m sure you can find out, though. As I said, I came into this late. I think . . . I really do, that this is something that requires—”
“Our brand of justice,” Annie chirped as she finished Maggie’s sentence.
“How long will it take you to do a background check, Charles?” Myra asked. “It goes without saying that Annie and I are very interested in knowing more. Nellie, Pearl, and Marti are due back in town this evening around seven. I think we should convene a meeting immediately.”
“I can call Abner and ask him to do what he does best. You all probably know what’s going on with Abner these days since he married Isabelle. He is still in the game, right?” Maggie asked.
“I believe so. We haven’t had an occasion to call him for his services lately. I think you should call him and put a rush on it.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Payment?”
“Whatever he asks for. He always comes through for us, and I see no point in haggling and causing stress to anyone,” Annie said.
“Okay, but Abner expects me to haggle. I think it’s part of his game. As long as he thinks he’s sticking it to me, it works for him. Now that he’s an old married man, it’s possible he changed the rules,” Maggie said.
“Do your best, dear,” Myra said.
“Then, ladies, if we’re finished here, I’ll get to work. Dinner will be whatever you can find in the fridge,” Charles announced.
“Then I will take Maggie home and get her settled in. I’m sure she has calls to make and things to do until this evening. While she’s doing that, I may cook something and bring it over. Is six o’clock okay, or do you want it closer to seven o’clock?” Annie asked.
“Shoot for eight, Annie. As long as you don’t plan on bringing hot dogs. Try to be more imaginative, dear. In my texts to the others, I said eight o’clock.” Myra smiled to take the sting out of her words.
“All right, ladies. Dismissed,” Charles announced, getting up from the table and heading to the huge bank of computers in the room the women called his lair.
Back in the kitchen, Maggie looked around for the backpack that she never traveled without. She said she carried her life on her back because she didn’t trust safe-deposit boxes, dresser drawers, or hidey-holes in an attic or cellar to safeguard her life’s precious records.
A short conversation ensued as Myra reached for her jacket so she could take the dogs for a run. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she heard Maggie ask Annie if she had her old job as a reporter back.
“Of course, dear. I have to be honest. I don’t know what to do about Ted. He’s done a magnificent job as the paper’s editor-in-chief. It was hard for him to step into your shoes, but he did it, with a few mishaps along the way. I don’t want any hard feelings.”
&n
bsp; “Annie, look at me. Ted would be happier than a pig in a mudslide if you’d fire him and let him go back to being an investigative reporter. It will be the three of us again. Ted, Espinosa, and I were a team for more years than I care to remember.”
“I’ll call Ted when we get home. I’ll ask him to come by this afternoon, and we can make plans. I just don’t know who I can replace Ted with,” Annie fretted as she stared out to the parking area at the back of Myra’s house.
“Take my car, Annie. Ask Ted and Espinosa to pick up your car and drive it out to the farm when they come to see you.” Myra picked up a set of car keys and handed them to Annie.
“John Cassidy, Annie. He’ll make a good EIC. Just tell him to stay out of Ted’s, Espinosa’s, and my hair.”
“I can do that, dear. You’re sure about John, Maggie.”
“I am sure, Annie. He has printer’s ink in his veins like his father and grandfather before him.”
“All right then, that’s good enough for me.”
The golden retrievers raced ahead of the women. Myra shivered in the cold. “It feels like the temperature dropped ten degrees in the last hours.” She looked overhead at the scudding clouds. A strong gust of wind almost blew her over as she walked Annie and Maggie to her car. “I think it’s going to rain later.”
“Feels damp,” Annie said, climbing behind the wheel. “Call me this afternoon and we’ll compare notes.”
“Okay.” Myra leaned in the open car window. “I’m so glad you’re back, Maggie. We all missed you. Call the girls; they’ll love hearing from you.”
“I will as soon as I get settled. Thanks for being you, Myra. And for whatever it’s worth, there are no words to tell you how much I missed you all,” Maggie said tearfully.
Myra nodded and stepped back as Annie backed up the car and headed for the gate.
Myra felt tears prick her eyelids.
“Don’t cry, Mom. Everything is okay now.”
Myra whirled around and clutched at her pearls. “Darling girl, is it really you?”
Blindsided Page 4
