"Wait, where are you going?" Jordan said.
"The cops are going to drop me at the studio," he said. "I go on the air in twenty minutes!"
"What about Elizabeth?" Millicent called.
"Elizabeth is the sacrificial lamb," Elizabeth answered as she was led away by the police. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Smith!"
"The show must go on!" Monty called back, hopping into a squad car that immediately sped away, lights flashing.
Elizabeth gave Millicent and the Jordans a sad little wave of farewell before a police officer directed her toward one of the patrol car.
"She's going to jail?" Louise said to Millicent in disbelief.
"That buffoon has done it," Millicent muttered, leaving Louise and Jordan behind and walking toward the car where Elizabeth was sitting in the backseat.
The Jordans watched as Millicent pushed the policeman aside and climbed into the car next to Elizabeth. "I am also a felon," she announced.
Creighton Berns's telephone at his home in Pacific Palisades rang while he was shaving. Karen, his wife, was still in bed and rolled over to answer it.
"It's Marion," she called.
Creighton picked up the phone in the bathroom. "Got it, honey," and waited for her to hang up. "Hello?" Karen heard her husband say. There was a pause and then, "What the fuck are you talking about! They can't get those back!"
For all the power and prestige of Creighton's new position at ICA, Karen was beginning to wonder if her husband was going to be able to handle it. Running the studio had been bad enough—at the office night after night; headaches, nosebleeds, and complete exhaustion when he did get home—but this ICA position... She had to wonder if there was a reason why thirty-five-year-olds hadn't been given jobs like this before. Creighton was a mess, and he'd only been in the job a few weeks.
"No! No!" her husband was yelling in the bathroom. "Marion, listen to me—I have to have them." Pause. "Got it? Now, you do whatever you have to do, but see that they do not get their hands on those files. Do you understand me?"
"Mommy?" little Jeffy asked from the door.
"It's okay," Karen told him. "Daddy's just upset. Go find Nanny Antonia and tell her to give you breakfast."
28
Joshua Lafayette arrived at the police precinct just as two lCA lawyers did. The police begged him to get Millicent Parks out of the precinct. After much discussion, Millicent finally acquiesce and allowed a handsome young detective to drive her back to the Plaza. Josh then went to the police chief's office with the ICA lawyers and Elizabeth sat down next to James Stanley Johnson on a bench in the hallway.
"You must admit, James," Elizabeth finally said to him, turning and crossing her legs in his direction, "it was rather strange of ICA to impound the offices of people they had been doing business with for twenty-seven years for absolutely no reason."
He looked at her but said nothing.
"I know you're just doing your job, but what I mean to say is, well, perhaps you should be looking for another job. You seem to be a bright and talented and very nice person. Wouldn't it make more sense to be in a job where people could afford to like you?"
He continued to look at her with a blank, impassive face.
She sighed, staring at a poster on the opposite wall. "Life is short. But then," she added, looking over at him, "I made a good deal of money on my first book, so I guess it's easy for me to be on my high horse about ethics."
"Yes, it is," James Stanley Johnson told her.
She nodded to herself, as if she had learned what she wanted to know. She sat back against the bench and crossed her legs the other way.
About a half hour later, Josh and the other lawyers emerged. "Okay, we can go," he told Elizabeth, holding his hand out to her. "Good-bye, Sergeant," Elizabeth called. "Thank you for the tea."
"Our pleasure, ma'am. But stay out of trouble, now!"
"If I don't," Elizabeth said, laughing, "I'll make sure to bring Millicent with me."
As soon as they were out of earshot of the ICA crew, Josh murmured, "The files are tied up for at least a month. No one—and I mean no one—can get at them, including us." He opened the front door of the precinct for Elizabeth.
"Professor Robinson," a male reporter said, hurrying over with a microphone extended. Behind him was a camera and parked curbside was a WST news van with a microphone antenna on top. "Is it true that you were arrested for trespassing?”
"How can a client be arrested for trespassing in her own agent's offices?" Elizabeth said.
"But you were attempting to steal files," the reporter said.
Elizabeth looked at him. "I most certainly was not."
"Oh," the reporter said, looking frantically at his notes.
Elizabeth answered a few more questions and then Josh nodded that it was enough.
"How do they know about it?" she asked, getting into a cab with him.
"WST is the DBS affiliate in New York," he explained. "I spoke to one of the reporters on my way into the station house. Apparently DBS is all over this story—big time."
Elizabeth smiled.
"Did you see?" Alexandra asked Georgiana over the telephone.
"Yes, it was wonderful!" Georgiana declared. The local news had run the story and footage about the "incident" at Hillings & Hillings on their noontime broadcast, starring crazy Montgomery Grant Smith as the fire-breathing hero battling evil in the hallway, and Elizabeth as some sort of intellectual damsel in distress. It was very dramatic and very funny. Marion Ballicutt was seen giving a quote: "All we are able to tell you at this time is that the offices and what is in them belong to ICA and we have no idea what prompted this bizarre incident."
"Thank you so much for sending the crew over," Georgiana said.
"To tell you the truth," Alexandra said, "I don't have any idea what's going on at ICA either, so I'm afraid our story tonight will be limited to the shock value of the film we've already let WST show." She chuckled. "Montgomery Grant Smith shouting and wrestling with people does have a certain news cachet, I suppose."
"It's great," Georgiana said, "and I'll tell everybody to watch tonight." They were quiet for a moment. "I don't suppose we could have dinner or something after?"
"I'd like to, but—"
"But what?" Georgiana asked, heart pounding. She had been up most of the night and had been riding an emotional roller coaster all day. Suddenly, she felt dangerously like a fool.
"I'm sorry, Georgiana," Alexandra said, "but I can't see you again so soon."
"I asked you to have dinner, not to get married," Georgiana said in her best daughter of Lord Hamilton-Ayres is annoyed voice.
"Tomorrow I have to do the newscast from Maine," Alexandra said, ignoring the comment. "It's the opening of fishing season."
"Ah, we mustn't miss that," Georgiana said. "From terrorists to trout, I understand completely."
"Don't be angry," Alexandra said gently.
"What should I be?"
"You could try being patient." Pause. "Please."
She was right. Georgiana took a breath. "Patient I can be," she said, her voice softening considerably. "Listen, the people here want me to meet with Creighton Berns anyway, so I think I'll book a flight home to Los Angeles and get that out of the way."
"When will you be coming back?" Alexandra asked her.
Georgiana smiled. It was the right question to ask.
"Henry, what on earth are you talking about?" Dorothy asked, staring at her husband in amazement.
"I must have your opinion on this movie," he insisted, putting the videocassette in the VCR he had brought to her hospital room. "I need your advice."
"Can't it wait until after the news?" she said.
Outside and down the hall, Millicent Parks was at the nurses' station, whispering, "The TV must be out of commission until we get Mrs. Hillings away from here tomorrow."
"Why?" the nurse whispered back.
"There's something being featured on the news that might very well impede
her recovery."
"We can't protect our patients from life," the nurse said.
"This one you can—at least until tomorrow. Otherwise," she added, narrowing her eyes, "I'll know whom to blame."
The nurse blinked twice and said, "But the TV man isn't here this time of night!”
"Then tell the TV man we'll pay the damages," Millicent said, walking away.
"Damages?" the nurse asked.
Henry and Millicent turned on the bogus video project and waited until Dorothy finally excused herself to use the bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, Millicent yanked the cable wire out of the back of the hospital TV. When Dorothy came back out, she found the two of them muttering. "What is it?" she asked.
"Darn thing just came apart," Henry said, scratching his head. "Dottie, I'm afraid without the TV, we can't watch the rest of the video."
"Well, I must confess," she said, sitting down on the edge of her bed, "I'm not heartbroken. It was rather a bore, I thought, if that is at all helpful to you, Henry, darling."
"It is," he said, making sure the TV would not work.
"Perhaps it's just as well we can't watch it," Millicent added, trying to look disappointed, "since we have such a big day tomorrow."
"How they expect one to sleep when they wake you every hour of the night is beyond my comprehension," Dorothy said. "Millicent darling, may we please say good night to each other so I may climb back into this bed with some illusion of being able to handle the task gracefully."
"Ah, Dottie, you're your old self," Millicent said, giving her a kiss.
"Probably better, if the truth be known," she said. She touched Millicent's arm. "You are coming back to the country, aren't you? I'll die of boredom without you."
"Yes, of course, Dottie," Millicent said. "I'm going back with you tomorrow."
"You've been so wonderful to support Henry through all this," Dorothy said, looking sleepy now. "You are the dearest of dears."
"Yes, I know," Millicent said, beaming.
"I wasn't planning to say anything about it on the air," Monty explained to Elizabeth that night, following her down the Hillingses' hallway, "but after I heard WST was running a story on it, it seemed perfectly natural for me to explain my side of the altercation to my audience."
"No harm done," Elizabeth said. "In fact, the publicist we hired for the demonstration says it's great, now she won't be able to keep the press away from the protest next week. But better yet, Montgomery, as soon as Henry heard that ICA was trying to cart out boxes of files, he realized there must be something in the files that's not on the computer and that ICA is trying to find—which means whatever it is, it must be an old file, one older than at least 1978."
"What kind of file?" Monty asked.
"That's what we need to figure out," Elizabeth said. They had reached the doorway of the study and Elizabeth held Monty back.
Josh Lafayette was in there, on the telephone, holding up one finger to signal he'd be off in a minute.
When Josh hung up, it was clear he was upset. "Well, now we know how ICA will react to today's negative publicity." He frowned. "They've filed a fifty-million-dollar suit against the Hillingses for breach of contract."
"ICA's suing them?" Monty exclaimed. "The Hillingses didn't do anything—the courts issued the repossession order!"
"Well, that's just the point," Josh explained. "ICA's not out to win. It's just a warning shot to demonstrate that, from here on in, they're prepared to drag the Hillingses into court on the slightest provocation."
"But the courts would dismiss a suit like that, wouldn't they?" Elizabeth asked.
"ICA could drag things out for years before they do. The idea is to force the Hillingses to show up in court again and again, and keep getting it postponed. And if that suit doesn't go well, they'll sue them about something else. The idea is to threaten the Hillingses with one lawsuit after another until they either kill them or bankrupt them with legal fees."
"But Henry's a lawyer," Monty said.
"And he's almost seventy-seven years old," Josh said quietly.
"Then let's sue them!" Monty said.
"Well," Josh sighed, "we'll see." His eyes shifted to Elizabeth. "One bright note, though," he added, smiling a little, "I've got your plan all set up, Elizabeth. She starts tomorrow.”
"Fabulous!" Elizabeth said. She turned to Monty. "Remember how much Patty Kleczak wanted to help us?"
"Patty? You mean the housewife from New Jersey?" Monty said.
"The romance-suspense novelist," Elizabeth said, correcting him. "Well, Patty's been working on and off for years as a temporary secretary. And so Josh has arranged some short-time employment for her."
Monty frowned, confused. "Yeah, so?"
"So Patty's going to be a temp," Elizabeth told him, "at ICA."
29
"Oh, must I?" Dorothy Hillings asked her doctor on Wednesday morning.
"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Hillings," he said. "It's hospital policy."
Her left eyebrow twitched in agitation as she looked at the wheelchair. She was standing, holding her husband's arm, dressed to the nines in a blue suit, gray silk blouse, three strands of pearls, and matching pearl earrings. She was also wearing a blue hat, which was rather jauntily pinned to the side.
"Well," she sighed, "if I must." And she walked over and sat down in the wheelchair, laying her pocketbook in her lap.
Bernadette, the aide Dorothy had engaged to look after her affairs, was dressed in street clothes. She went around to take the wheelchair, but the attendant explained that he had to do all discharges.
At the front entrance of the hospital on Seventy-Seventh Street, Dorothy signed out and was taken to a gleaming black limousine. Millicent was standing beside it, talking to the driver. "Good grief, Henry," Dorothy said loudly, "anyone would think we had just gotten married."
Everyone laughed. Dorothy got out of the wheelchair and walked over to the car. She and Millicent climbed in, with Henry bringing up the rear. Bernadette climbed into the front seat with the driver. They were off to the Hamptons.
"Yes, of course," Elizabeth said, smiling, holding the portable telephone to her ear in the Hillingses' living room, as five pairs of eyes watched her, "Henry, yes, I've got it. Give her my love and tell her I'll see her soon... Okay, great... Yes, good-bye." She turned the phone off and announced, "Well, they're on their way. Henry was calling from the Long Island Expressway."
"And that battle-axe went with them, I hope," Monty said.
"Yes, Millicent is with them," Elizabeth confirmed, sitting back down on the couch next to Monty. She picked up her pad and pen. "Okay, so where were we?"
"Louise and I are going home to L.A. tomorrow," Jordan said. "And we're going to call our press contacts and ask them to cover the demonstration next week."
Elizabeth nodded, then looked at Georgiana Hamilton-Ayres. "I'm booked on a flight to Los Angeles tonight, and I've already requested a meeting with Creighton tomorrow."
"But you can't leave now," Montgomery said quickly, looking upset.
Georgiana looked at him. "I thought you wanted me to talk to Creighton."
"But I don't want you to go," Montgomery blurted out.
"We do want you to meet with Creighton," Elizabeth said, trying to cover for the vulnerable talk-show host. "But do we want her to do it before or after the demonstration?" she asked, looking to Monty.
He wasn't listening. He was just looking at Georgiana with round, pleading eyes.
"I think you should see him as soon as possible," David said to Georgiana. "Tell him you were in New York and heard about the uproar and want to know what's going on. That would be perfectly natural."
"What do you think, Georgiana?" Elizabeth said.
"Oh, I'll do it," she said quickly. "And I'll be tactful—but to the point. And then I guess I'll call you, Elizabeth? Here? To report in?"
"You can call me," Montgomery said.
Everyone looked uncomfortabl
e. Finally Georgiana said, "Where? In Chicago?"
"No, here, in New York," he said, sounding almost hostile. "At the Regency. I'll be here through next week, or as long as it takes to get this situation settled."
"You will be?" Elizabeth asked him. "I didn't know that."
Still looking at Georgiana, Monty said, "Now you do."
"Yes, well," Elizabeth said brightly, trying to move things along, “that would be enormously helpful, Montgomery. Thank you." People murmured their approval; Elizabeth shouldn't be left to handle everything by herself. Elizabeth looked to David next.
"I'm afraid I need to go home tonight, too," David said.
Elizabeth tried to cover her surprise. "I thought you were going home tomorrow."
"It would be better if I went back tonight," he told her.
"There's room on the flight I just booked," Georgiana said.
"What are you flying?"
"American."
"Okay, I'll call," David said, getting up to take the portable phone into the kitchen.
"Wait, David," Elizabeth said. He turned around. "Are you going to call Creighton Berns when you get back?"
"I'm going to see him first thing," he said. "We had a meeting scheduled anyway."
"Yeah, I bet you did," Monty muttered under his breath.
"Okay," Elizabeth said, making a note for herself. "Well, that's it then. You all know what you're supposed to do."
"Elizabeth," David said in a low voice.
He was standing in the doorway of her room, the Hillingses' guest room, and his tone made her feel weak. More than anything, she wanted to slide her arms around his waist and press her head against his chest and hold on to him until she could sort her feelings out.
"I will be back to see you as soon as I can," he said.
She swallowed, not knowing what to say.
"I always loved you," he said. "I never stopped."
Elizabeth closed her eyes. It astounded her how fresh the pain was, how ready to return. She was scared of having it come back again. She would not get through it a second time, that much she knew.
Any Given Moment (The Alexandra Chronicles Book 3) Page 16
