Fast Track (The Sisterhood: Rules of the Game, Book 3)

by Fern Michaels

  Charles had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Turn to page twelve.”

  The sound of the flipping pages was the only noise in the room.

  “She speaks three languages besides English!” Kathryn said in awe.

  Alexis burst out laughing. “Yeah, Brooklynese, Southern Belle, and kitchy coo. It says right here in her résumé she was born in Brooklyn. She moved to Atlanta for a while, then Vegas. No college degree. Where did she learn those three languages if it’s for real? I stand by my assessment.”

  “Maybe she takes shorthand and types,” Myra said.

  Nikki looked at her adopted mother with disdain. “With those nails! They’re like spikes.”

  Myra looked properly chastened. “So, dear, what you’re saying is she earns that rather large salary being Mr. Zenowicz’s…paramour, is that correct?”

  “Oh, yeah,” the women chorused.

  “Ladies, ladies, enough of this jocularity. Miss Rena Gold is your access to Mr. Zenowicz. It would behoove you to make nice. Mr. Zenowicz has some top-notch security, which he pays for himself. Those rather large men who followed him into the Fast Track establishment are his daytime security. He has a total of eight guards, who rotate every other day. Pictures of each guard are in your folder along with what is known about each man. I want you to familiarize yourself with all of the guards. Each one of the men is licensed to carry a firearm. I can’t as yet confirm this, but there is every possibility that, unbeknownst to Mr. Zenowicz, Miss Rena Gold has had several dalliances with one of the security guards. As yet that has not been proven. What is proven is she has no female friends. At least none that we’ve come across.”

  Kathryn snorted again. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Several more pictures of fresh-faced college girls appeared on the screen. Each one prettier than the next. In a word, wholesome, girl-next-door looks. “Two of the girls go to Georgetown University, two go to Catholic. At the moment, none of the four is of major importance.”

  Charles cleared the screen on the plasma TV and took a deep breath. “What I’m about to show you next is not pretty, so all of you, take a deep breath. What you are going to see are pictures of the two countries that never received the funds Zenowicz promised.”

  Picture after picture appeared on the huge screen, making it all the more horrendous. Starving babies, hollow-eyed mothers, emaciated fathers, dying grandparents. Naked toddlers eating dirt, their stomachs as huge as watermelons.

  The women looked away, tears streaming down their cheeks. Charles wiped at his own eyes as he pressed his remote, and, blessedly, the screen turned black. “If you have even one qualm, one iota of distress that you’re doing the wrong thing by taking on this mission, those pictures should allay all your fears. What say you all?”

  Nikki was the first to speak. “I’ve always thought that we here in this great country should take care of our own first. I still believe that. Ten million dollars is a vast sum of money, so let’s take a vote right now. Five million dollars stays here so we can do what we originally planned. The other five million goes to the World Food Bank with proper supervision. Or we could build schools. Any number of things. Five million dollars in countries like that will go a long way. If our mission is successful, then the monies earmarked for these two countries will get the people the help they need. Our contribution will be like icing on a cake. Do you all agree?”

  A chorus of ayes resonated throughout the room. Not to be outdone, Murphy and Grady barked their approval.

  “When do we start?” Annie asked.

  “As soon as I get everything in place,” Charles said. “Manpower is crucial in this mission. I need a full day, possibly a day and a half, before I’ll be comfortable sending you into the lion’s den.”

  “How are we going to get into D.C.?” Kathryn asked.

  Charles smiled. “You’re going to drive, but first I have to secure a base of operations. In order to do that, we need vehicles that are untraceable, and we need new identities that are foolproof. It all takes time, ladies.”

  The women muttered and murmured among themselves as they accepted their dismissal and left to go outdoors into the bright sunshine.

  They headed toward the pool and the shaded patio, where they all sat down. Annie offered to fetch ice tea. Before starting to talk about the mission, they waited for her return by discussing the gerbera daisies that lined the pool area.

  The moment Annie returned with the ice tea, they got down to it.

  “The way I see it, we’re outta here in around thirty-six hours,” Kathryn said. “That cuts down our time. We all know we’re going to hit a few snafus along the way, so I say let’s get down to the dirty end and make some plans.”

  “And we have to come up with a suitable punishment. One that fits Zenowicz’s crime. I’m really going to enjoy making that weasel squirm,” Nikki said, the light of battle in her eyes.

  They talked of other things then as they waited for Annie to return with a second tray that held glasses and a plate of brownies.

  “I wonder how Lizzie and Maggie are doing,” Alexis said.

  “What really surprises me, knowing Washington the way I do, is that there was no big ruckus in the media when Pearl Barnes resigned and her longtime lover disappeared,” Isabelle said. “Perhaps ‘disappeared’ is the wrong word. I guess the politically correct verbiage would be to say they moved on with their lives. Lizzie’s resignation, as well as Maggie’s, should have stirred up some kind of controversy. And let’s not forget that scummy ex–son-in-law of Pearl’s.”

  “As individual cases it would mean nothing except to a few close friends,” Myra said. “Taken as a whole, if anyone was astute enough to put it together, like, say, Ted Robinson, it could mean trouble for all of us. Nellie is in the clear and minding her own business.”

  “Jack and Harry say nothing is going on in town. Washington in the summer is pretty much deserted except for tourists. If there was trouble brewing, Jack would know,” Nikki said.

  The others watched as Annie poured ice tea generously into crystal glasses that matched the pitcher. “Did you all say anything exciting while I was gone?”

  “Only that Ted Robinson is a pimple on our asses.” Kathryn grinned.

  “Why don’t I buy the Post? Then we can fire him,” Annie said.

  The women stared at Annie until she flushed a bright pink. Her voice was defensive when she said, “I have enough money to buy the paper. The price is no object, if that’s what it takes to get the man out of our hair.”

  “You’re a fugitive, Annie. You can’t go around buying up newspapers,” Nikki said.

  Annie sipped at her tea. “There are ways around everything,” she responded airily. “Isn’t that right, Myra?”

  Myra’s right eye started to twitch as she fingered the pearls around her neck. “Yes, there is a way around everything. At least that’s what Charles has been saying since we formed the Sisterhood. Although Charles has been known to be wrong once or twice,” she said vaguely.

  “This tea is very good. Not because I made it, girls, but because I made it with simple syrup. My husband taught me how to make proper ice tea the way they do in the South. I really think my idea is a good one.”

  “You’re brilliant, Annie,” Kathryn said. “I need to think. What if we started a rumor that the Post was going to be bought up by…let’s just say for now, an undisclosed buyer who wishes to remain anonymous. Wouldn’t that be a hoot if in the end, when things got down to the wire, it gets out that somehow, some way, the vigilantes own the paper. Just think about that! That’s providing Annie and Myra are right, and there’s a way for Annie to buy the paper.”

  Myra’s hands fluttered as she grappled with her pearls. “My goodness, imagine all that free press! Should we tell Charles about Annie’s brilliant idea?”

  The women as one jumped at her words. “Why?”

  “As a courtesy,” Myra said lamely.

  A wicked gleam appeared in
Annie’s eyes. “There’s a lot to be said for the element of surprise. I think that’s a no.”

  To Annie’s delight, the women high-fived one another.

  “So, Nikki, dear, perhaps you should call Jack, who can then call Mr. Robinson and plant the rumor. By the time we get to Washington, that will be all the big news. In the meantime, I will call my people to see if anything can be done. If not, we’ll still have fun with the rumor,” Annie said, beaming from head to toe.

  “Annie, you are a genius. An absolute genius,” Kathryn chortled.

  Nikki started to laugh and couldn’t stop. Finally, she asked, “Can you just see all those political types, all those D.C. social climbers, going berserk wondering if the new owners will be on their side? Priceless. Kathryn’s right, Annie, you are a genius. I’m going to call Jack right now and tell him to start the rumor. Remember now, mum’s the word where Charles is concerned. At least for now.” She doubled over laughing again as she punched in the numbers to Jack Emery’s cell phone.

  Chapter 5

  Jack Emery looked at the king-size sirloin on his plate and prepared to dig in when his cell phone buzzed. He sawed away, the phone crooked between his ear and shoulder. He stopped what he was doing when he heard Nikki’s voice on the other end of the phone. His heart kicked up a beat when he whispered, “Hi.”

  “I’m in a rush, but I do want to talk to you, but later this evening, okay? Listen, Jack, I want you to do something for us. Us. Spread the rumor if you can, somehow, some way, that the Post is being sold. Right now the buyer or buyers prefer to remain anonymous, that kind of thing. Can you pull it off, Jack?”

  Jack almost blacked out. His lady love wanted him to do something for her. He didn’t stop to think, he just said yes, then he said, “I thought it was going to be something tough like reaching for the moon or the stars.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper. “Actually, Robinson is sitting across from me and Harry right now. We’re at a new watering hole by the World Bank, named the Fast Track. He and his sidekick Joe Espinosa are with a private dick they hired, Tick Fields. Don’t know if you know him or not. Mark Lane, my old buddy from the FBI, called me earlier to tell me Ted and Espinosa hired him but wouldn’t tell him why. Mark does work for Tick from time to time. So, something is up. Can we talk later?”

  “After nine will be good. Tell Harry that Yoko will call him at the same time. I love you, Jack, and don’t you forget it.”

  He didn’t mean to say the words, preferring to save them for a more intimate time, but they just bubbled up and out of his mouth. “Will you marry me?”

  The indrawn breath on the other end of the phone sent a shiver of fear up Jack’s spine. Then he heard the words he’d dreamed of all his life. “Damn straight.”

  Stunned at Nikki’s response, Jack snapped the cell shut and stared at Harry. His head bobbed up and down. Harry frowned at the sappy look on his friend’s face. “Did you just win the lottery or something?”

  Jack blinked. Then blinked again. “Or something. She said yes, Harry. Nik said yes. I want you to be my best man. Will you do it?”

  Harry grinned from ear to ear. “As long as I don’t have to dude up in one of those monkey suits. And if you pay me. And if you promise to get out of this spy game shit. Yeah, yeah, I can’t let you take that walk down the aisle all by yourself. Someone will have to prop you up. Just like that, she said yes?”

  “Yeah, do you believe it?”

  Harry waved his fork in the air, and said, “Since meeting you, Jack, I believe anything.” He waved again to someone he knew. Harry knew everyone. Or, as he put it, everyone worth knowing.

  “Hey, she called you. Since she didn’t know you were going to propose, she must have called for something else. What?”

  Jack shook his head to clear his thoughts. He leaned in closer to Harry and told him what Nikki wanted him to do. “You got a clear shot right now, Jack. They’re having coffee, and it looks like they’re waiting for the check. Go for it. Make me proud, Jack.”

  Jack, a wicked gleam in his eye, slid his chair back and walked across a narrow aisle to the booth where Ted and his friends were sipping coffee. “Well, if it isn’t Dumb and Dumber. Who’s your friend, Ted? Ah, let me guess, Dumbest, right? Listen, I just stopped over to offer my condolences. You guys,” he said, pointing to Joe Espinosa and Ted, “will look good in the unemployment line. You sending out your résumés?”

  The trio gaped at Jack. Ted finally found his tongue. “What the hell are you talking about, Emery?”

  Jack playfully waved his finger. “Well, I guess if the courthouse was being sold, I’d play it cool, too. Then again, the peons are always the last to know. Guess that’s why Maggie bailed, huh? How come you didn’t see the handwriting on the wall like she did?”

  There was an edge to Ted’s voice when he said, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “The Post, Teddie. It’s being sold. New people coming in. New broom sweeps clean. How come you don’t know that?”

  Espinosa looked sick at what Jack was saying. He really didn’t have a beef with Jack other than that Ted hated him. “Where’d you hear that? Who’s doing the buying?”

  Jack raised his voice several decibels so the other diners could hear him. “It’s all over town. I heard it at lunchtime. Some big conglomerate is what I heard, but then I heard it was just some wealthy family in upstate New York. What I heard was it’s almost a done deal. The negotiations were and are top secret and have been going on behind closed doors for the past two months. Hey, don’t thank me, just too glad to help. You want anyone to lick the envelopes for your résumés, give me a call.”

  “What the hell did you tell those schmucks? They look green around the gills,” Harry said when Jack returned to their table. “Ah, they’re leaving. Wow, you really stirred them up. They’re tripping over their feet to get out of here.”

  Jack told him what he’d said verbatim. Harry burst out laughing. “How long before it hits the media?”

  “Let me finish this steak, and I’ll call Channel 5 and ask if it’s true. That should get the ball rolling. So…by eleven, I’d say this whole town will be in an uproar. Including the powers that be at the Post. The denials will be front-page material for weeks. It will be the lead story on every news channel from here on in. I’m not sure what the girls hope to gain by this. Guess we’ll have to wait until we talk to them later. This steak is delicious. If this place can keep it up, you’re right, they have a gold mine.”

  Harry looked at his watch. “Chop-chop, Jack. If I have to drop you off in Georgetown and get back to my own digs, you’re going to have to chew a lot faster than you are right now. Otherwise, we’re going to miss our phone calls. No time for coffee, either.”

  Jack gobbled the rest of his food, paid the check, and the two men somehow managed to leave the packed room. A line of people waiting to be seated stretched all the way outside and halfway down the block.

  As Harry fired up the Ducati, he mumbled and muttered about never going to the Fast Track again except on off-hours. Jack didn’t bother to respond as the wind slapped him in the face. He shifted into a neutral zone and thought about Nikki’s response to his proposal. God, he was going to get married. He was going to promise to love, honor, and obey forever more. How it would ever work was beyond him. Somehow. Some way. Because love would conquer all.

  The two reporters and the private detective were on foot. They walked in silence until Joe Espinosa spoke, “If Emery is right, it explains Sullivan’s pissy attitude of late. Plus, he asked you to clear Maggie’s stuff out of the apartment. That can only mean someone important is coming to call. How come we’re the last to know?”

  “I don’t believe it,” Ted said. “Emery just wanted to rile us up. And we played right into his hands.”

  Espinosa jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “To what end, Ted? Think about it. Why would he do something like that? He was too damn gleeful. What do you think, Tick?”


  The skinny, stringy-looking detective looked from one reporter to the other before he spoke. “He sounded like he was telling the truth to me. At least the way he heard it. Buyouts are always like this. No one knows till it hits you in the face.” Ever the businessman, he said, “You sure you guys can pay me? This could get involved and run up a good-size bill. You want to rethink all of this? It goes without saying, I’ll refund your deposit.”

  “Who the hell would buy the Post?” Ted asked, ignoring Fields’s comments.

  “Someone who doesn’t like the owners of the paper. Someone with money to burn. Some asshole, would be my opinion. Like I said, if it’s for real, it explains Sullivan’s pissy attitude. He’s been down on everyone. He wants news! What the hell are we supposed to do when there isn’t any news going on?”

  “He told me to get creative,” Ted said.

  “I saw some suits going into his office two days ago. Never saw them around the paper before. Five bucks says Sullivan knows. Call him, Ted,” Espinosa said.

  “It’s almost eight thirty. You want me to call him at home?”

  “Well, yeah, if that’s where he is. You’ll get a feel for whether he’s telling you the truth or not.”

  Ted’s stomach muscles curled themselves into a hard knot as he punched in the numbers of Liam Sullivan’s home phone. The EIC answered, his voice cold and angry-sounding. He hated to be called at home unless some politician bit the dust in his paramour’s arms. “This better be good, Robinson.”

  Ted didn’t mince any words. “How come you didn’t tell any of us the paper is being sold? What, we come in one day and turn around and walk out when the new owners tell us our services are no longer needed? Is that the way it’s going to go down? Dirty pool, Sullivan.” He hated how choked up his voice sounded.

  The sudden silence on the other end of the phone bothered Ted. “It would help if you’d say something here, Mr. Sullivan.”