Countdown

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Countdown Page 5

by Fern Michaels


  Marks pretended to think. If Jack didn’t know better, he would have thought Marks was a legitimate businessman. “What’s the total of your rentals per month on all your properties, Mr. Tremaine?”

  “Roughly sixty thousand dollars a month.”

  Marks’s jaw dropped. “For all those properties! For those locations, you should be getting double that. If I take you on, after I inspect the properties, what’s your feeling on rental increases?”

  “I’m all for it if you can get it. What do you take off that?”

  “Two percent.”

  “That works for me,” Jack said happily as he gazed around the office, looking for exit doors. There was only one door to the side that either led to a bathroom or an outside hall. He saw no evidence of a safe, so he bluntly asked.

  “Of course I have a safe, Mr. Tremaine, but I certainly don’t advertise it to clients.”

  Jack nodded and stood up. “If we have a deal, I’ll have my attorney get in touch with you, no later than this afternoon. She has my power of attorney, so she can sign for me, and the money will be deposited at the same time. We’re good till the end of the month.”

  “Who’s your attorney?”

  “Lizzie Fox.”

  Marks swallowed hard as he stared at Jack. “I must say, you certainly go for the best.”

  “You know what they say, you get what you pay for. By the way, just between us, client and management, who are some of your clients? I heard that the lieutenant governor of Virginia is one of your clients; is that true? Actually, that fact alone is the reason why I’m even standing here. I figured if you’re good enough for him, then you’re good enough for me.”

  Jack loved the way the man’s right eye started to twitch. His voice was gruff when he said, “I never discuss my clients with other clients, Mr. Tremaine.”

  Jack nodded. “I like that. I subscribe to that motto myself, Mr. Marks. My attorney will be in touch.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Marks.”

  The property manager merely nodded as he escorted Jack to the door. He didn’t offer to shake hands, and neither did Jack.

  Back in the car, Jack looked at Cyrus, and said, “The guy is a real sleazebag and I think I conned him. Greed always wins out with guys like him. He was a real jerk. How about we hit up Arby’s and get us a really big roast beef sandwich?”

  Cryus let loose with a loud bark to show he was in agreement.

  “Arby’s it is.”

  Chapter 7

  While Jack and Cyrus were chowing down on thick roast beef sandwiches, Ted and Espinosa were taking the elevator to the newsroom. It was a little past noon, and the room was bustling with reporters yelling at other reporters as they pounded away on their keyboards. There was no sign of Dennis West.

  Ted looked over to the half glass wall that separated Maggie from the newsroom. She was looking straight at him. “Okay, Joe, I’m going to beard the lioness.”

  “Good luck,” Espinosa said as he sat down and turned on his computer so he could upload all the photos he’d taken in Middleburg.

  Ted rapped on Maggie’s door, opened it, and poked his head in. “You got a minute, Maggie?”

  Well, that’s civilized, Maggie thought. “Sure,” she said warily. “What’s up?”

  “Not much. Christmas season and all. Espinosa and I just got back from Middleburg. I had this idea. I probably should have run it by you, but I wasn’t sure if I could tie it in to what appears to be a breaking scandal. You know the governor of Virginia and his lieutenant governor and all that money they’re wasting. I’m still not sure if it will work, but Espinosa sent you some pictures of Lieutenant Governor Sandford’s Christmas decorations, compliments of Mrs. Fiona Sandford. My thought was to run an article with pictures every day until Christmas. We also have some quality shots of the mayor’s office, the outside of his home. The Sandfords, well, they pretty much speak for themselves. What I need for you to do, Maggie, is assign a couple of the guys to hit these homes. To make it look legitimate.”

  Maggie blinked. There was so much she wanted to say, and questions she wanted to ask but she felt tongue-tied for some reason, so she just nodded. Finally, just as Ted was turning to leave she found her voice. “Ted, hold on a minute. Close the door, okay?” Ted obliged. The moment he turned around, Maggie blurted, “Ted, what happened to us?”

  “Us? As in you and me? There is no us, Maggie. You made that very clear.

  “Yeah, we were once lovers and once engaged. You dumped me. You got married. Then you became a widow and came back into all of our lives. We welcomed you, at least I did. I was hoping for more at some point but accepted that it wasn’t to be.

  “Then you started sticking your nose into my personal, private life. That did not work for me. I told you so, but you didn’t back off. Then you started spying on me and the guys. Friends don’t spy on friends. Friends try to talk it out, resolve whatever the problem is. And on top of that, you tried to pull rank. I told you if you did it again, I’m outta here, and so is Espinosa and the kid.

  “Now, Maggie, here’s the kicker, you sicced private dicks on all of us. We picked up on that the minute you hired them. Either you hired some misfits, or we’re better than they are. Because, like I said, we picked up on it. Why? Why would you do that to your friends? The guys are really pissed. I’m really pissed. Did I answer your question satisfactorily?”

  Maggie felt her eyes start to burn. She cleared her throat twice before she could get the words out. “You’re right, Ted. About everything. I know saying I’m sorry isn’t enough but I am sorry. I . . . I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was like all of a sudden everyone in my life had no time for me. I mean, I got it with the girls, but when you guys shunned me—and don’t say you didn’t—I started to lose it.

  “At first I thought I had done something wrong, and you all hated me for that. Then I realized I hadn’t done any such thing, and you all were just moving away from our old life, like the girls had. Then the reporter in me kicked in, and I realized you all were up to something and that that something was secret. You know me and secrets,” she said ruefully.

  Ted could feel the guilt starting to set in. He was putty in Maggie’s hands. Her phone took that moment to ring. Maggie ignored it. Two young reporters banged on the door, and Maggie waved them off. Whoa. His old friend and lover was serious here. She could no more let a phone ring without answering than she could stop eating. As to the knock on the door, she couldn’t resist wanting to know what the person wanted. That just wasn’t who Maggie was. This was indeed serious.

  Ted looked out into the newsroom to see Espinosa glaring at him. Ted felt his back stiffen and the guilt start to diminish. “You admit you hired private detectives to spy on me and the guys? You admit you’ve been having us followed?”

  It wasn’t a statement; it was a question. “What is it you want from me, Maggie? Spell it out because I’m just not getting it.”

  Maggie shrugged. She hoped the burning in her eyes wouldn’t produce tears that would roll down her cheeks. She tried to square her shoulders, but she failed. She’d never been so miserable in her whole life.

  “What? The cat caught your tongue all of a sudden? I repeat, what do you want from me, Maggie?”

  Maggie flopped down in her predecessor’s chair because she didn’t think her legs would hold her up much longer. “Yesterday, Ted. I want yesterday back,” she whispered.

  “Yesterday’s gone, Maggie, tomorrow isn’t here yet, and all we have is today. I can’t give you yesterday. I wish I could, for you and for me as well, but I can’t. I loved you, Maggie, so much that my hair hurt.”

  Ted looked out through the half glass to see Espinosa still glaring at him. A good thing, too, or he would have buckled when he saw the first tear roll down Maggie’s cheek. He turned and called over his shoulder to Maggie, “Let me know what you think of the pictures.”

  Instead of heading for his desk, Ted bolted for the hall and the elevator, Espinosa right
behind him. The door slid open, and Dennis stepped out. Ted grabbed him, swung him around, and all three descended to the lobby.

  “What’s up? You guys look ... I don’t know ... kind of shitful. Anyone hear from Jack? Where are we going? By the way, it’s snowing out, in case anyone is interested.”

  No one was.

  “I say we hit the Squire’s Pub since it’s the closest,” Espinosa said.

  “That works for me,” Dennis said happily.

  Ted just hunkered into his jacket, his head down as they walked into the wind.

  Maggie sank down into the chair she was sitting on and turned so that she was facing the wall behind her. She wanted to cry, to stomp her feet, to pitch a hissy fit. She bit down so hard on her lower lip that she could taste her own blood. She swung back around and grabbed a tissue from her desk to dab at her lip. Her eyes were wild when she looked around her neat-as-a-pin office. She had to get out of there. Immediately. That instant. She bellowed for her assistant before she could change her mind. As she was struggling into her jacket and looking for her scarf and backpack, she rattled off a list of things that needed to be done. “You’ll see me when you see me. While I’m gone, you’re in charge.” As she whizzed by her secretary’s desk, she bellowed, “Emily, call James and tell him to pick me up in front of the building right now.”

  “And another drama-filled day is under way at the Post,” Emily Davis muttered under her breath as she sent a text to Maggie’s driver. She sent a second one with the initials ASAP.

  Maggie pushed through the revolving door and was surprised to see that it was snowing. The cold air felt good on her flaming cheeks. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had felt as stupid as she felt at that moment. Stupid, embarrassed, humiliated, guilty, sad, and angry. She needed to go home so she could lick her wounds in private and cry. She’d never been a crier, not ever. Crying was a sign of weakness. She was just beginning to wonder if she was having a nervous breakdown when her driver pulled to the curb. Maybe her husband’s death was finally catching up to her. Maybe a whole lot of things were catching up to her. Inside the warm car, Maggie buckled up, and said, “James, take me home, please. And you can have the rest of the week off. I won’t be needing you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. My wife and kids are going to appreciate having me home. I’ve yet to set up the tree and hang the lights outside. But if you change your mind, call me at home.”

  “I will.” Maggie leaned against the window and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was cry. Cry till her eyes fell out of their sockets. And what will that do for you, Maggie? she asked herself.

  Fifteen minutes later, Maggie’s driver pulled smoothly to the curb. “Don’t get out, James, I’m fine. Go home now to your family.” A second later, she was rummaging in her pack for the house keys. That’s when she saw a mangy, bedraggled cat pawing at her door. She frowned but bent down to see if the animal was injured. She couldn’t see any marks or blood. She dropped to her knees and stroked the cat’s wet head. The cat purred.

  Maggie didn’t stop to wonder if the cat would bite or scratch her. She picked it up and opened the door. With the cat still in her arms, she quickly turned up the heat and rushed to make a fire. From there she ran to the laundry room and got a towel to wrap the shivering cat in. He or she purred louder. She carried the cat into the kitchen, took off her jacket, and tossed it into a corner, along with her backpack. She made coffee, then opened a can of tuna fish and set it down by the cat, along with a small bowl of water. She watched as the cat ate daintily. No collar. Stray? Did it belong to someone? Why did he pick her door to scratch at? Everything in life happened for a reason. Was she meant to find this poor animal? Was that why she left the office in such a hurry? Or was this going to be one of those mysteries in life that was never solved? Her voice was fierce, protective when she announced to the cat and her empty kitchen, “You’re mine now!” She wasn’t alone anymore. She had a friend. Her mood lightened.

  Maggie waited until the cat finished eating before she picked it up and carried it into the family room and set it down by the fire. She ran upstairs to change her clothes and ran back down. The cat hadn’t moved an inch. She hoped it wasn’t sick. In the blink of an eye, she had a mission. She put on her jacket and ran out of the house and up to the small corner market, where she bought kitty litter, cat food, some catnip, and a few toys she saw hanging on a notions rack. She asked for a cardboard box to use for the kitty litter until she could get a real litter box.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was back in the house. Her new roommate was sound asleep by the fire. She smiled. She took a moment to wonder when she’d smiled or been happy lately and couldn’t come up with a time or a place. Well that was then, and this was now.

  A cup of coffee in her hand, Maggie squatted by the cat and stroked his head. The way the cat was lying she could see it was a boy cat. A name, she needed to name him. Names were important. A name defined a person. Maybe something symbolic. The cat purred in his sleep. Maggie smiled again as she set her cup on the hearth and made herself comfortable in a nest of pillows. She had some heavy thinking to do. Apologies first and foremost. She’d go to Harry’s dojo tonight at seven o’clock, when all the guys would be there for training, and apologize. Then tomorrow or possibly later tonight, she’d tender her resignation and start sending out her résumé. The decisions made, Maggie closed her eyes, and, within seconds, she was sound asleep.

  Chapter 8

  Shortly before six, Maggie woke with a start when she felt something nuzzling her neck. In her foggy, sleep-filled state she thought it was Ted and almost said his name aloud when she opened her eyes to see a pair of emerald green eyes staring at her. Not Ted. She laughed out loud and sat up, the unnamed cat sitting on her chest. “You’re making yourself right at home, I see. The cat purred and rubbed against her arm and chest. Maggie thought it was the most beautiful animal she’d ever seen, and he was all hers. She had a friend now to talk to. She could tell him about her worries, her fears, share her victories and her failures and he wouldn’t judge her. He’d listen, purr, and let her know he was there for her. A true friend. Something she’d forgotten how to be.

  As Maggie stroked the cat in her arms, she stared into the fire and thought about her conversation with Ted and what she had to do to try to make things right. She stretched her neck to see up at the clock on the mantel. A little after six. If she didn’t get to Harry’s dojo before the training class, she could go later and wait till it was over, which would probably be the better idea.

  Maggie fed the cat again, showed him where she’d placed his litter box in the downstairs powder room, then made up a special bed for him by the fireplace. She got a perverse sense of pleasure by using Ted’s pillow for the cat.

  In the blink of an eye, she whipped up an omelet for herself, ate it, cleaned up, then added some more logs to the fire. She closed the glass doors to make sure no sparks flew out that could set the carpet on fire. She smiled as the cat settled itself on Ted’s pillow and went to sleep. She really had to come up with a suitable name for her new roommate.

  Satisfied that her house was in order, Maggie called for a cab to take her to Harry’s dojo. She could have taken her own car, but she didn’t want to walk six blocks to the parking garage where she kept it. Besides, she didn’t like driving in snow. Or rain, for that matter.

  When she climbed into the cab, Maggie was stunned at how calm and peaceful she felt. When she’d come home earlier in the day, she’d been tied in knots. To think that a little two-pound ball of yellow fur could have such an effect on her was mind-boggling.

  Normally, the ride to Harry’s dojo would have taken sixteen minutes. She knew this because she’d once timed it. Not tonight, though, not with the snow, and the plows working to sand the roads. The driver dropped her off fifty-two minutes from the time she’d stepped into his cab.

  Maggie was crossing the street when a horrible idea hit her. What if Harry had canceled his class becau
se of bad weather, and she’d made the trip for nothing? She strained to see through the falling snow, and could see a dim yellow light in the front windows. It was impossible to see who was parked where. She forged ahead and trudged her way around to the back so she could use the rear entrance. Only the boys and friends entered the dojo from the back. Not sure if she was friend or foe, she took the high road and tapped on the back door. When there was no response she opened the door, poked her head in, and called out. When there was still no response to her verbal greeting, she shut the door and advanced into the room. She froze in place when she heard a bloodcurdling bark, then a deep growl. Cyrus. Maggie sucked in her breath and didn’t move until she saw Jack and the others outlined in the doorway.

  “I came to apologize to all of you,” Maggie said in a jittery voice. “And to tell you that I’m tendering my resignation and will be going back to Maryland.” She started to shake then, not sure if it was from the cold or because of the men standing in front of her.

  “Easy, Cyrus. It’s okay, boy. It’s Maggie. You know Maggie.”

  “It’s cold out here. Come into the waiting room,” Abner said.

  “It’s okay, I’m not staying, but thanks for thinking of my comfort. I’m sorry that ... that I spied on all of you. You’re my friends, and I guess I forgot that for a little while. But having said that, in my own defense, you all closed me out. Everyone is always so damn busy that it’s a major problem to send a text or call just to say hi. I don’t even know you guys anymore. And you know what else, I’m not sure I want to. Why’d you all have to sneak around? It was like suddenly you all were guarding this planet’s biggest secret. We were supposed to be . . . family, able to count on each other.”

 

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