Vanishing Act

by Fern Michaels

  He knew they were all waiting for him to say something. Anything that would make this little scenario easier. For them. Not for him. He hated the look he was seeing on Myra’s face.

  Murphy and Grady pawed the ground but stayed near the Sisters. They could not understand these strange goings-on. Charles was the guy who had slipped them bacon, fed them twice a day, and even gave them root beer on special occasions. And he was always good for a belly rub before going to bed. He had a good throwing arm, too, and would throw the sticks for them to retrieve for hours on end. They whimpered in unison, hoping for a kind word. They whimpered even louder when nothing of the kind happened.

  Charles had known this little reunion wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t think it was going to be quite so devastating. He cleared his throat. “The way I see it, ladies, is this. I have two choices here—three, actually. One, I can pick up my bag and leave and apologize for this unexpected visit. Two, I can pick up my bag and go to my quarters, and we’ll pick up where we left off. Three, you can riddle my body with bullets and toss me over the mountain. Decide, ladies. I’m very tired right now and in no mood to remain in limbo.”

  Annie risked a glance at Myra, who seemed to be in a trance. “An explanation would go a long way in helping us make our decision.”

  “As much as I would like to provide one, Annie, I’m afraid that I can’t. Do you know you have a string of frankfurters hanging around your neck?”

  Annie ignored the question. “Can’t or won’t?” Annie snapped.

  “Both!” Charles snapped in return.

  “You think you can just waltz back to this mountain and pick up where you left off with no explanations? You left us flat, to fend for ourselves,” Kathryn screeched, her voice carrying over the mountain. “Your conduct is…was…unacceptable regardless of the circumstances. We deserved more, Charles,” she continued to screech. Murphy reared up and pawed at his mistress’s leg. “I-don’t-think-so!”

  “You want us to trust you, but you don’t trust us? That’s not how it works, Charles,” Nikki said, frost dripping from her words. “Kathryn is right, your behavior is unacceptable.”

  “My situation is different from yours, Nikki. I have to answer to Her Majesty. In the past, you only had to answer to me. If I could, I would answer all your questions. Unfortunately, I am duty-bound to say nothing.”

  Myra squared her shoulders and leveled the gun in her hand. “NTK, is that it? If there is no trust on both sides, then it doesn’t work. I think I’m speaking for the Sisterhood when I say need-to-know doesn’t work for us.”

  Charles looked at his ladylove and noticed that she wasn’t wearing her pearls. Chains with circles draped her neck. Annie was wearing the same set of chains. He didn’t like this new look. Myra wasn’t Myra without her beloved heirloom pearls. He realized at that moment that things had indeed changed here on the mountain since he’d left.

  Isabelle stepped forward. “We found out the hard way that we don’t need you. Back in the day, we may have wanted you because you made it easier with your meticulous planning. We managed two missions. And even though we bumbled our way through them, we are standing here in front of you, guns drawn. On you! There is no reason to assume we cannot bumble our way through more missions. Actually, Charlie, we’re getting rather adept at meticulous planning.”

  “You used my people. My people, ladies,” Charles said quietly.

  “Your people are mercenaries, Charles. Mercenaries go where the money is. We have the money. I rest my case,” Alexis replied.

  Charles took his time as he looked from one to the other, then down at his bag. Without another word, he picked up his bag and turned around to flick the power switch that would connect the power to the cable car. All he had to do was get in and then hit a second switch that would send the cable car to the bottom of the mountain. “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say. Good-bye, ladies.”

  Yoko stepped forward but not before she clicked the safety on her gun. Her hand dropped to her side. “I haven’t spoken yet, Charles. I would like you to stay,” she said softly.

  Charles turned back to face the women. He smiled, and his tone matched Yoko’s when he said, “I appreciate your vote, but I can’t stay unless it’s unanimous.”

  The women watched in horror as Charles pressed the main switch, not realizing he had just turned the power off. Then he sat down inside on the little bench so he could hold the door closed. When he realized his mistake, he stretched out a long arm to hit the power switch. He was going, leaving them again. Murphy and Grady howled. A lone tear rolled down Myra’s cheek.

  “Mom, don’t let him go. If he goes, he will NEVER come back. You have to take Charles on faith. You know that. Pride, Mummie, is a terrible thing. Hurry, Mummie, hurry!”

  Myra whirled around as she tried to reconcile what she was hearing from her spirit daughter and at the same time saw Charles reaching for the switch that would activate the cable car and take him to the bottom of the mountain. She literally leaped past the two dogs and pulled Charles’s hand away from making contact with the switch. “We want you to stay, Charles.”

  The collective sigh behind her told Myra all she needed to know. The girls wanted Charles to stay but were willing to send him packing, thinking it was what she wanted. When she stepped back, she felt Annie’s arm go around her shoulder. It felt so comforting that she wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep.

  “Will you get rid of those weenies already? Charles will be preparing dinner this evening,” was all Myra could think of to say.

  Annie laughed as she peeled the string of weenies from around her neck and handed them all out to the dogs, who were waiting politely for the rest of their unorthodox early dinner.

  Charles stepped out of the cable car and started to walk toward the main building, the girls following behind. Yoko was the last in line, her head down.

  “Honey, I admire your courage,” Annie said to her.

  “I’m sorry, Yoko. I should have been the one to speak up to tell Charles to stay,” Myra said. “It’s refreshing to see you for once have the courage of your convictions. I don’t know what we all thought we were trying to prove back there,” she went on, waving her hand behind her, “other than to make Charles sweat and punish him in some way. It’s my fault entirely. The others thought I wanted to send Charles packing, and they went along with it.”

  “We need Charles,” Yoko said softly.

  “Yes, we do,” Annie said forcefully.

  “I agree,” Myra said. “But we are going to have a few new rules this time around.”

  “Do you believe Charles is not allowed to talk about whatever it was that went on over there by orders of Her Majesty, or was he pulling our leg?” Annie asked fretfully.

  “Charles never lies. Rather than tell a lie, he simply says nothing. The fact that he even offered up the explanation makes it all ring true. Whatever went on over there, we are never going to know about it, so we had better get used to the idea,” Myra said.

  “Does that mean you are moving back into the main house, Myra?” Annie asked.

  “It means no such thing. I’m more than comfortable right where I am, in the room next to yours. That’s not to say I won’t be…uh…moving back at some point in the future. Then again, I may never move back in. I’m not that same person who followed Charles to England.”

  “I see that,” Annie said, with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I see that, too,” Yoko added, giggling.

  “I wonder what’s for dinner,” Myra said as she linked one arm with Annie and the other with Yoko.

  “Barbara told me to do it,” Myra whispered to Annie.

  “I know, dear. I actually heard her this time.”

  “Oh, Annie, did you really?”

  “Absolutely,” Annie lied with a straight face.

  Up ahead, the sound of the door closing behind him sounded exceptionally loud, Charles thought as he walked through the main building that he and Myra h
ad shared for so long. He stopped, dropped his duffel bag, and looked around. He struggled to figure out what was different but couldn’t quite hone in on what it was. Everything was neat and tidy. There were fresh flowers in a vase on the coffee table. There was no sign of dust. The windows sparkled.

  Charles picked up his duffel bag and walked into the war room. Again, it was neat and tidy, the computers were on, the clocks were working. No sign of disarray anywhere. He flinched at the emptiness. He continued his journey down the hall to the suite he shared with Myra. And that’s when he knew what was different. Myra had moved her things out of the suite. He tossed his oversize duffel on the bed and hurried to the closet. All he could see were empty hangers. There were no shoes on the floor. No boxes on the overhead shelf. His eyes burning, he stepped into the huge closet and saw his own clothing at the far end, all enclosed in garment bags. When he’d left, his things had been hanging loosely on hangers. Someone, probably Myra, not knowing when or if he would return, had hung them in zippered garment bags. His shoes were in boxes instead of on the shoe trees. He swiped at his eyes before he looked over at the dresser where Myra kept the jewelry box in which she put her pearls every night. The box was gone, the dresser bare, save his own hairbrush and his own small box for cuff links. His things were now encased in a plastic bag. He bit down on his lower lip as he made his way to the bathroom.

  It was a large bathroom, the kind any woman would love, and Myra had loved this bathroom, with the built-in Jacuzzi and the shower, with the seventeen different heads that shot out steaming hot water from all angles. The vanity held only his things on the right side, again encased in plastic bags. The left side, Myra’s side, was bare as a bone. He opened the linen closet to see a stack of hunter green towels that were enclosed in a zippered bag. Myra’s fluffy yellow towels were gone, as were all her sundries. Only his remained, encased in plastic. Suddenly he had a hate on for plastic.

  His eyes still burning, Charles walked back into the bedroom, and this time he noticed that the comforter on the bed was different. When he’d left, there had been a green-and-yellow appliquéd tulip spread with matching pillows. Now a darkish green and brown comforter was on the bed, and there were no matching pillows. It looked depressing. He realized then how alone he was. He hated the feeling. He swiped at his eyes again. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair. He wondered if it would ever be fair again.

  Charles stripped down and headed back to the shower, where he stood under the seventeen needle-spray jets and let them pound out the tension in his body.

  Forty minutes later, he was dressed, freshly shaved, and on his way to the kitchen, where he was expected to prepare a gourmet meal, the last thing in the world he wanted to do. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he remembered the string of frankfurters hanging around Annie’s neck. Obviously, the girls had been eating things that were quick and easy.

  A check of the larder and the Deepfreeze gave a lie to that. Someone had ordered and stocked everything just as he’d done. He took a minute to go to the back door that would allow him to see the garden, which—he knew—would be a disaster. He blinked at the neat, tidy rows of plants. The pole beans were tied neatly, as were the tomato plants. Shiny green peppers in need of picking peered up at him. He just knew there were at least a hundred zucchini under the trailing vines. Cucumbers were deep green and plentiful. The broccoli looked wonderful. He knew it would be tender and savory. Thanks to Yoko and her green thumb.

  So his girls had managed nicely without him. He had to admit it hurt to know they had not only survived but functioned. Which then brought up a nasty thought. Did he subconsciously want them to have failed without him? The fact that he even thought such a terrible thing bothered him. Knowing and hearing Isabelle say aloud that they didn’t need him even though they wanted him was almost impossible to accept, but it was a sad reality, and he had no choice but to deal with it. He told himself he just needed patience. Well, his time in England had certainly not instilled patience in him.

  As Charles checked out the vegetable bin and the freezer, his thoughts raced. If there was some way he could explain to Myra and the others, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But Her Majesty had looked him in the eye and made him swear never to divulge what had gone on during his stay in England. He’d promised, and he would die before he would break that promise.

  The best he could hope for now was that time would heal all the wounds he’d created. Women, he knew, were, for the most part, forgiving creatures. He corrected that thought. Most women, with the exception of Myra, possibly Annie, too, were forgiving creatures. The only word that would come to mind was “endurance.”

  And endure he would.

  Shifting his thoughts to the matter at hand, he finally decided on his menu or, rather, his peace offering. He would prepare Shrimp Étoufée. A crisp summer salad from the garden, some of the pole beans in a light, savory garlic-butter sauce, homemade biscuits with soft honey butter. Myra loved his Chinese Almond Rice, so he would prepare that, too, and hope she understood he was making it just for her. For dessert he would make Rice Pudding with Raspberry Sauce and, of course, pots and pots of coffee. He dusted his hands together, satisfied that in the midst of all the turmoil in his mind, he could think of other things.

  Charles licked his lips, crossed his fingers for luck, and started to prepare his homecoming dinner.

  Chapter 3

  The news of Charles’s return to Big Pine Mountain flew through cyberspace at the speed of light. In Las Vegas, in a rare afternoon of fun and frivolity, all arranged by Cosmo Cricket for his new bride, Lizzie, the text message arrived just as three cherries appeared on the slot machine she was playing, giving her a win of $44. She whooped and immediately quit playing. Cosmo smiled indulgently as Lizzie steered him to the lounge, where, despite the early hour, she insisted a drink was in order to celebrate her win. While they waited for their drinks, Lizzie called Maggie and Ted on Nantucket.

  On Nantucket Island, Maggie sighed with happiness as Ted rubbed her back with sunblock. She looked down at the vibrating cell phone and groaned when she saw that the call was from Lizzie. It had to be business. Maggie tripped right past the greeting, and said, “I just want you to know I’m lying on a glorious beach, the temperature is a wonderful seventy-eight degrees, the sun is shining, and Ted is rubbing my back with some sweet-smelling sunblock. I am drinking one of those frothy drinks with a little umbrella. I am relaxing. Are you calling to tell me you’re pregnant? If you are, I’ll put it on the front page. When I get back.”

  “No, no, no, I’m not pregnant! I’m sorry to intrude on your short vacation, Maggie, but I thought you would want to know that Charles is back on the mountain. I don’t know any details. I’ll be back Sunday night. Let’s do breakfast Monday morning. By the way I just won $44,” Lizzie said happily.

  Maggie rolled over as she closed her cell phone. She looked up at Ted and smiled. “Charles is back on the mountain. That was Lizzie on the phone. I wonder what it means, if anything. His being gone changed a lot of things, and I wonder how many of them, if any, will ever change back. I’m getting a feeling, Ted.”

  Ted groaned as he sat up straighter. He’d learned the hard way never, ever, to ignore Maggie when she said she was “getting a feeling.” He immediately sent off a text message to Joe Espinosa in Baltimore, apprising him of the news and alerting him to the fact that Maggie was getting one of her feelings. Reporter-speak for get your ass back to D.C. as soon as you’re done in Baltimore.

  Maggie rolled back over, irritated now that she had sand on her oiled back. “Ted, call Nellie and Elias while I call Jack.”

  In Virginia, just as her cell phone rang, Nellie handed off the two-month-old baby, who’d left a wet spot on her dress the size of a dinner plate, to her jittery husband. Elias handed the squealing infant to his father, who in turn delivered him to his weary mother.

  Dismayed at the giant wet spot on her silk dress, Nellie walked to the back of the church, then outside,
where she took the call from Ted Robinson. “This better be good, Ted. I’m at Elias’s grandson’s christening, and the kid just peed all over me.”

  “Charles is back on the mountain. The girls texted Lizzie, who called Maggie. We’re here on Nantucket and headed home tomorrow. Maggie just asked me to call you. When are you going home, Judge?”

  “I think that might be a wonderful thing for the girls, especially Myra. At least I hope it will be, but she and Charles may have to start all over again. I know that she felt deserted, even though he told her that he had to stay behind in England. We’re leaving as soon as I can drag Elias out to the car. We drove,” she said inanely.

  “Well, drive safely. We’ll catch up on everyone’s return,” Ted said.

  Ted stretched out and rolled close to Maggie. He listened to her conversation, trying to get a bead on what Charles Martin’s return to the mountain would mean to all of them.

  “That’s all I know, Jack. No details. Lizzie called, and she was more excited about winning $44 than Charles returning to the mountain. I wonder how happy Myra is with his return. We’re heading home Sunday morning. So, you’ll tell Harry, okay? I want to get back to soaking up this warm, delicious sun. It’s wonderful here, Jack. I hope you and Nikki get to come to Nantucket someday. Listen, Jack, Lizzie didn’t say anything about notifying Pearl Barnes, but I’m thinking she should be kept in the loop. Do it for me, big guy, and I will owe you. See you on Monday.”

  Ted leaned over and whispered in Maggie’s ear the moment she ended her call to Jack. He waited to see what her response would be. When she said, “I’ve never had sex in the water. Okay, let’s go for it,” Ted was the first one in the water. The cold water. The really cold water. He looked at Maggie, who was shivering and watching him expectantly.