Fast Track

by Fern Michaels

  The girls sat in pretended astonishment, their jaws dropping for Rena’s benefit.

  Alexis was the first to speak. “Girlfriend, you sure know how to pick friends in high places. So, he’s a crud, huh?”

  “The worst. God, you aren’t going to tell anyone I told you, are you?”

  “Hell no. We’re your friends. We’ll protect you with our lives. Not to worry, your secret is safe with us. So, what’s that stuff you got on the jerk?” Alexis probed.

  “All his personal records. Financial and the bank stuff. All the shenanigans he’s pulled since he took over. I slipped him a Mickey one night and copied everything. My friend from Vegas brought it with him. The stuff to put in his drink,” Rena clarified. She drank more wine, her eyes getting glassier by the minute.

  “What did you think you were going to do with your information? Was it your plan to blackmail him?” Nikki asked carefully.

  “Kind of. Then I got afraid. I was just going to help myself to some of his money so I could start up a small business of some kind in Vegas with a few of my friends. Show business is a hard business. You get used up real quick.” Rena started to cry then.

  The girls rushed to her side, cooing and offering words of encouragement. Jack and Harry found their ears burning when they heard words like, “All men are dickheads, you can’t trust one any farther than you can throw them, small minds, small everything. And don’t forget the Viagra that has to make it all work.”

  “They’re not talking about us, Harry, relax,” Jack said, tongue in cheek.

  Harry stared into the mirror. “They look pretty damn gleeful to me, Jack.”

  Jack grimaced. Damn if old Harry wasn’t right. They did look gleeful.

  “I don’t know why I say this, but I’m thinking we’re the guys who are going to take the suitcases to the airport,” Harry grumbled.

  In spite of himself, Jack burst out laughing. He shoved his plate across the bar and held up his beer bottle for a refill. Harry did the same.

  Outside, the wind and rain continued to batter the building. Since their arrival, no other customers had come into the Grill. Which was a good thing for all of them. Now, if the manager decided to close early, they were going to have a problem.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jack’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He turned it on and listened intently.

  “It’s me, Jack. I commandeered a van from the motor pool, and I’m sitting outside at the curb. When you’re all ready to leave, just head for me, and I’ll drive all of you to wherever you want to go. By the way, Charles sent me,” Bert Navarro said.

  Jack had long ago given up trying to figure out how Charles did what he did. “Okay. I’m thinking maybe another fifteen minutes, and they’ll be ready to go. Miss Gold is looking for someone to take her suitcases to the airport. Looks like you get the honor, Bert.”

  “You’re out of your mind. This is an FBI vehicle. Tell her to call a taxi.”

  “Can’t do that, buddy; those suitcases need a personal escort. I’ll explain it all later. Sit tight, okay?”

  Jack headed for the men’s room. Nikki followed him. He brought her up-to-date. “How sloshed is she, Nik?”

  “She’s babbling, and I’m thinking she’s seeing two of everything about now. I’m going to pay the bill, and we’ll head out and take her home. We can drive in through the basement parking garage and take the elevator to one of the top floors and walk up the last couple of flights to the penthouse. No sense giving the doorman more information than he needs. He’s probably bored and watching the numbers on the elevator. She’s really scared of this World Bank guy, Jack. I can’t wait to get him in my clutches.”

  Jack winced at her words, glad he was on her side.

  Chapter 20

  The inside of the FBI van steamed. Outside, the rain continued to river downward. The water on the roads was almost to the top of the wheels of the van. “I can barely see ahead of me,” Navarro said through clenched teeth. “You guys better have a plan in mind. You do, don’t you?”

  “We’re working on it,” Nikki said. She tried looking out the small windows at the back of the van to see if Jack and Harry were following them. She couldn’t see a thing.

  Rena Gold was singing merrily, unaware she was surrounded by the vigilantes she so admired. She stopped singing long enough to say, “I love Wayne Newton. He’s Mr. Las Vegas. Did you all know that? I even met him once. Nice. Really nice. But, he’s getting fat. I think he wears a girdle. Maybe he doesn’t. But I think he does. Esther thinks so, too.”

  “I think,” Nikki whispered to Kathryn, “when we get to the apartment building Rena lives in, one of us should engage the doorman so that he isn’t watching the monitors when we come in. I’m sure one of the guys will know how to rewind the tapes on the cameras so that we were never there.”

  “Good idea,” Kathryn said.

  The rest of the ride to Rena’s apartment was made in silence, the only sound the lashing of the heavy rain on the top of the van.

  After another seventy minutes of crawling along at a snail’s pace, the van pulled up to the entrance of the underground garage. Kathryn leaped out of the van and headed to the main entrance. Bert waited ten full minutes before he steered the van down the ramp, slid Rena’s parking key card into the slot, and waited for the heavy metal gate to open wide before driving into the cavernous garage. The silence inside was deafening.

  “Okay, ladies, this is your gig. Do you or don’t you have a plan?” Bert asked.

  “For the moment, find a place to park,” Nikki said. “Right now we have to wait for Jack and Harry. Yoko, stand by the gate so you can open it from this side when they get here.” Yoko was out of the van and sprinting toward the gate before Nikki could finish speaking.

  Another fifteen minutes was spent inside the steaming van. Rena Gold was sound asleep. A hurried discussion ensued the moment Jack and Harry marched over to the waiting van. While no one, it seemed, knew how to dismantle the security cameras, Harry said he would take a stab at it. But only after he conferred with several people he just happened to know, who, by chance, were in the business of breaking and entering. “It’s going to cost some money for the information,” he said sourly.

  “No problem, Harry. I’ll write you a check. You know I’m good for it. Now, let’s get this show on the road before company arrives. We don’t want any late-hour tenants thinking we’re up to no good.” Jack laughed at his own joke but wasn’t surprised when no one else joined in.

  While the little group made their way to the service elevator, Kathryn ran back around to the main entrance and engaged the doorman, who also doubled as a security guard. She did her best to convince the sleepy guard that her best friend in the whole wide world did live in the building and was waiting for her. “She just moved here. Maybe your tenant list hasn’t been updated yet, sir,” she said desperately, trying to keep his back to the monitors while in turn trying to see them herself so she would know when her friends entered the penthouse apartment. “Look, sir, I’m soaking wet, I need to get out of these clothes, and I was planning on doing that in my friend’s apartment. Now what am I supposed to do?” she asked, seemingly on the verge of tears.

  “Go to a hotel. I’m sorry, but there is no one here by the name of Chloe Dupre. I wish there was, so I could help you, but my hands are tied. I’ll even double-check the tenant list if that will make you feel better.” The guard was about to turn around to open the desk drawer when Kathryn spotted her group heading up the steps to the penthouse.

  “No!” she yelped as she grasped his arm. “You’ve been more than kind. If you would just loan me your umbrella, I’ll see about catching a cab. On second thought, never mind the umbrella, I’m already soaked,” she said when she realized the doorman would have to turn around for the umbrella. She almost fainted when she saw the penthouse door close. “Thank you for your time, sir. I’m sorry I troubled you.”

  “No problem, little lady. I like a diversion from time to ti
me.” He pointed to the bank of monitors, and said, “It gets pretty dull around here watching blank screens all evening long, especially on a night like this when nothing is going on.”

  “I guess so,” Kathryn said, walking toward the front door. “Stay,” she said, motioning the doorman to stay where he was. “No sense you getting wet, too. Again, thank you for your time.”

  Kathryn sprinted around the corner and down the ramp to the garage. Harry was waiting for her and pressed the button that would allow her entry into the garage.

  She dripped water from head to toe. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re an engineer, right, Kathryn?”

  “Yeah. In my other life when I wasn’t a truck driver. Why?”

  “I’m supposed to dismantle the security monitors and turn them back so that when viewed, we were never here. I hate to admit this, but I am not mechanically inclined. I tried to call a few people but haven’t been able to reach anyone.”

  Kathryn continued to drip water. “Let’s take a look.”

  It took twenty minutes, but Kathryn was able to back up the tape to earlier in the evening, then short it out. “Everything is fried for the night,” she said cheerfully. “The security company will think it has to do with the storm. At least in the beginning.”

  “After the beginning?” Harry asked, his eyebrows arched.

  “Then they’ll know some asshole fried the hell out of their equipment and dirty work was afoot. I don’t think the tenants or their boyfriends will be told. No one wants to undermine security.”

  “So, in the end you didn’t know what you were doing?”

  “That about sums it up, Harry. Come on, let’s go upstairs. With this weather, I don’t think any maintenance or security people will get here before tomorrow, but you never know. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s what I always say, better safe than sorry,” Harry muttered as he trudged along behind Kathryn.

  Inside the luxurious penthouse, the girls looked around in approval. Even Jack nodded.

  “The lady has good taste,” Alexis said. “A shame it doesn’t belong to her. I like things that belong to me even if it’s just a scarf or a knick-knack. While this place is beautiful, it has a temporary feel to it, like she’s just passing through or something. It kind of gives me the creeps.”

  “That’s exactly what it is, Alexis. I’m glad Rena finally got wise to that jerk,” Nikki said. “Not to worry, we’re going to take care of her one way or another. And him. After all, Rena is making our job easier for us. She’s fearful, but I think we can allay her fears when we tell her who we really are.”

  “She’s waking up,” Isabelle said.

  The tap on the penthouse door sent Jack scurrying to open it. Kathryn and Harry rushed inside. They dripped huge puddles all over the marble floor in the foyer. Both ignored them and continued into the living room, where Rena Gold was just stirring.

  “I think we need some coffee, black and strong,” Nikki said.

  “I’ll make the coffee if you tell me where the kitchen is. My bones are cold. This AC isn’t helping, either. Can someone please turn the temperature up a little? Want to help, Bert?” Kathryn asked shyly.

  The others had smiles on their faces as Bert beamed his pleasure at being asked to help in the kitchen. The women, even Jack, wore indulgent expressions as they looked at one another. It was obvious to all of them that the acerbic, cranky Kathryn was finally on the road to romance.

  Rena Gold was sufficiently awake to ask if they were having a party. It was clear she was still under the influence of all the wine she’d consumed earlier. She looked at Jack and Harry with questions in her eyes.

  “They’re going to take your bags to the airport. Remember, you asked us if we knew anyone who would do that for you? They volunteered,” Nikki said.

  “How sweet of you gentlemen to do that for me. I’ll pay you, of course. I’m such a terrible hostess. Can I offer you all something to drink? Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve had guests, other than that one time my friend came from Las Vegas, and even then it was more of a…business call, not really social.”

  “We’re fine, Rena. Delia is making coffee. We can all use some right now,” Isabelle said quietly. “We brought you home so we could help you, but you need to be sober before that can happen.”

  Nikki motioned Jack to follow her to the bedroom, where the four large Louis Vuitton bags were waiting to be picked up. “Now would be a good time to take them downstairs into the van while the cameras are out. We can decide later who takes them to the airport. You okay with that, Jack?”

  “Guess so.” He gave her a quick kiss and bellowed for Harry, who came on the run. “Lug these bags out to the foyer and I’ll take the service elevator to the garage and bring up a dolly. No sense in either one of us throwing our backs out.”

  “That’ll work,” Harry said as he lifted the suitcases. Returning, he asked, “Damn, what does that woman have in there?”

  “A couple of years of plunder would be my guess, and she’s not about to leave it behind,” Nikki said.

  Kathryn was grinning from ear to ear and Bert had a sappy expression on his face as they came into the living room. He carried one tray, and Kathryn carried the other. She motioned for him to join Harry and Jack, then took her seat on the sofa, apologizing for her wet clothing.

  “Don’t worry about it, it’s not mine,” Rena said. She looked around at the women, who were watching her. “Should we play cards, or should we just sit here and talk?”

  “Actually, Rena, we had something else in mind,” Nikki said.

  Rena brought her coffee cup to her lips with a wobbly hand. She suddenly looked so fearful that Nikki hastened to reassure her with soft murmurings.

  Kathryn leaned closer. “Rena, if you help us, we’ll help you. That’s a promise.”

  Rena sat her coffee cup and saucer down on the glass-top table. Alexis had to reach out to steady the cup or it would have fallen off the edge. “What…what do you want me to do?”

  “Show us what’s in your safe. We’ll take it from there. Are you comfortable doing that?”

  “If I do that, my…He’ll find out some way. I have to get out of here. He’s not a nice person. Well, sometimes he’s nice.”

  “Do you mean like when he steals your paycheck?” Yoko demanded.

  Rena winced. “He’s greedy. The man is every negative you can think of. Tell me what you’ll do with the information.”

  “We’ll use it to…uh…take care of Mr. Zenowicz,” Nikki said.

  The women watched as recognition finally dawned in Rena Gold’s eyes. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Alexis, the closest, reached out again to hold her upright.

  Nikki mouthed more comforting words ending with, “You can trust us, Rena. But things have to be done our way. Decide now if you want our help. If you don’t, we’re outta here, and you can take your chances with…him.”

  Rena was suddenly stone-cold sober. “So, you aren’t my friends after all. This was all a setup to get to…him.” She fixed her steely gaze on Kathryn as her eyes filled with tears.

  “In a way, it was like that, but I’ve truly enjoyed your company. We all did,” Kathryn said, waving her arms about to indicate the others. “We meant it when we said we would help you. Hey, you’re the one who wanted to get in touch with us. Look at it this way—we came to you out of the blue. We’re going to make your world right side up and make sure that guy never, ever bothers you again. You know we can do it, but you have to help us.”

  “Is that a promise?” Rena asked in a shaky voice.

  “Honey, you can take it to the bank,” Isabelle said.

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Not much. Open your safe to us. Then tomorrow we want you to arrange a meeting right here with Mr. Zenowicz. We’ll take it from there. By tomorrow evening this time, you’ll be winging your way to Las Vegas, a truly happy woman. You in or out, Miss Gold?�
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  Rena Gold didn’t think twice. “I’m in. I want you to cut his balls off and jam them you know where.”

  Nikki grimaced. “Sorry, we already did that to a bunch of guys in California. Been there, done that. Not to worry; Mr. Zenowicz will never be the same after our meeting tomorrow.”

  “Is that a promise-promise, or are you blowing smoke in my direction?”

  “Like I said, you can take it to the bank,” Isabelle said.

  “Okay. Let’s go. I’ll open the safe for you.”

  “Attagirl,” Kathryn said, her breath leaving her body in a loud swoosh.

  Chapter 21

  Myra sat on the edge of her comfortable old bed and stared off into space. She wasn’t sleepy, but maybe if she got under the covers, sleep would come. She stared up at the big wall over the mantel, where a parade of pictures of her dead daughter marched along. Barbara’s christening, her first birthday, all the ensuing birthdays, her first pony, her first bicycle with three wheels, the second bicycle with just two wheels, her debut at dancing class, Barbara playing the piano, sliding down the banister. Her first car, a big old boxy thing for safety reasons, her first riding horse, Buttons. Graduation pictures, grade school, middle school, high school. Halloween pictures, Christmas trees, and Barbara sitting among mounds of gaily wrapped presents. Law school graduation. And then, even though there was more wall space, there were no more pictures. It was the rest of the blank wall that made her eyes burn. So much more room. Room for wedding pictures, christening pictures. How unfair life was sometimes.

  Tears trickled down Myra’s cheeks. There would never be any babies or a husband’s picture on her wall. Never. More tears rolled down her cheeks. She was about to wipe them away with the sleeve of her robe when she felt a light touch on her cheek.

  “Please don’t cry, Mom. You make me sad when you cry.”