The two women moved then but could still hear Gardener say, “About goddamn time you got here. The car is here. At least Lyons did that much. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Annie ran ahead and opened one of the cab doors. The Pakistani driver hopped out and said, “No, no! You go to head of line.”
Myra panicked. She was already in the cab. “Annie, tell him money talks and bullshit walks. Flash him a hundred and get your tush in here. Hurry up, they’re getting in the limo.”
Annie eyed the diminutive driver and flashed a hundred-dollar bill. “Get in the damn car and drive or I’ll bop you in the nose. We work for the FBI so don’t ask any questions. Now move!”
“Oh, God!” Myra wailed as the man in charge of the taxi stand held up his hand and shouted for them to get out of the car. “Two hundred,” she said to the driver. She leaned her head out of the car and said, “CIA. Back off, Mister. Hold all traffic for ten minutes. If you don’t, I’ll be back and arrest you.”
“You say FBI. Now you say CIA. I think maybe you lie,” the driver said.
“No, no, no. We work for CIA on Fridays and Saturdays, FBI the rest of the time. Follow that limousine and don’t lose him. You get a bonus if he doesn’t spot you. Furthermore, special agents are not permitted to lie.”
“Is like movie chase, no?”
“Damn straight,” Myra said as the taxi rocketed ahead. “Don’t lose that car.”
“You pay now!”
“Half now and half when we tell you to stop,” Annie said, tossing five twenty-dollar bills onto the front seat. She made sure the driver saw the wad of cash in her hand. At the sight of the thick bundle the driver’s foot clamped down on the gas pedal.
As Annie buckled her seat belt, she looked at Myra and said, “I wish we had thought to wear trench coats. It would be so much more official.”
“Shut up, Annie!”
Ted Robinson opened the drapes on the motel window. Then he wished he hadn’t. The sleazy room decorated in orange and brown looked even sleazier. What could you expect for $69.95 a night? He hoped the sheets and towels were clean. He looked over at Maggie, who was busy on her cell phone calling all the major hotels in the city hoping to track down the Ladies of Pinewood. Like those over-the-top women would really sign in to a hotel using their real names.
“Woohoo! They’re at the Beverly Hills Hotel.” Maggie fixed her smug gaze on Ted and said, “Oh ye of little faith. I knew they’d go first class. Rich people like them would never stay in a roach coach like this. Okay, let’s go. Our rental car should be here now and I already have a map. C’mon, Ted, let’s go. I don’t want them getting away from us.”
“But you said…”
“Never mind what I said. Whatever it was I said when I said it isn’t important. I said whatever I said when I didn’t know for sure those women were coming here. Now that they’re here and we saw them with our very own eyes, the game plan has changed. We have to follow them.”
“I thought we were going to go out to Lyons’s house and try to bullshit our way in. We don’t know why they’re after him. Before we go half-cocked, we should know that. We could get our asses in a sling if…”
“Ted, does it matter to us what he did? No, it doesn’t. Yes, it would be nice to know, but it isn’t going to change anything. We’re after the women. We want to catch them red-handed. This is our coup de grace. We’re here. They’re here. This is it, Ted! I can feel it in my bones.”
Ted planted his body against the door. “It doesn’t feel right, Maggie. Something’s wrong. We need to get in touch with Lyons.”
Maggie put her hands on her hips and glared at Ted. “Get real, Ted. Movie stars do not list their telephone numbers in the phone book. There’s no way to get his cell phone. What’s it gonna be?”
“Okay, okay, but it doesn’t feel right to me. My gut tells me they know we’re here. You have no idea how smart those women are. Even Jack Emery said they’re smart. My gut tells me those fucking gold shields are here, too. My gut is also telling me Jack Emery and that kooky ninja friend are also here. It’s going to turn out to be a regular goddamn reunion. You just wait and see. How are we going to deal with all that?”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Maggie’s voice held awe at this declaration.
“Hell, yes, I’m serious. I wouldn’t be one bit surprised to see that Martin guy and your new best friend Nolan pop up out of nowhere. We’re reporters, not superspies.” His voice turned stubborn when he said, “We need to see Lyons first. We need to know why those women are after him. When we explain who we are and that we’re on his side, he might prove invaluable to us and the story we write.”
“Ted, did it ever occur to you that Lyons might have done something horrendous and that’s why those women are after him? No way am I going to align myself with him. Those women wouldn’t be putting it all on the line for something like unpaid parking tickets. Whatever it is, it’s serious. We’re better off sticking with the women. Think Pulitzer! A double whammy, so to speak. I’m right and you know it. Now, can we get on with it?”
“Okay, okay, but this is a mistake. We checked Lyons out and he’s squeaky clean. He’s never so much as spit on the sidewalk. He’s what his PR people say he is, a nice, down-home guy who made it big in Hollywood and shares his good fortune with others who are less fortunate.”
Maggie sniffed. “This is Hollywood, land of make-believe. He did something somewhere along the way and those women are going to bring him down for it. It’s our job to bring them down. Now, are you going to shut up and come with me or are you going to sulk and go your own way?”
“You can be such a bitch sometimes. You aren’t always right, you know.”
“I got us this far, didn’t I? Without Alan Nolan we’d be back in Washington freezing our tails off.”
Maggie was right and Ted knew it. “All right, let’s go.”
Chapter 20
The knuckles on Charles Martin’s hands were white, almost translucent. As he listened to Nikki he clenched his teeth so tight he thought they would crack. His mind racing, he tried to figure out how the two Post reporters got downwind of this mission. Just because they were in California at the same time as the sisters didn’t necessarily mean they knew what was going on. He refused to believe they were smarter than he was. They could be there for something as simple as capturing the dirt on the stars in preparation for the Academy Awards. The Post would run tidbits every day to drive up interest in the waning viewer war. He managed to unlock his teeth and asked, “Where’s Myra?”
“She and Annie are still at the airport waiting for the others. I haven’t heard from anyone since we arrived at the hotel. I tried calling but neither one of them are answering their cell phones. Oh, wait a minute, Charles, here they come. Give me five minutes and I’ll call you back.”
Nikki walked to the door of the bar and waved wildly. Kathryn, Yoko and Isabelle made their way to a small seating area. All three of them looked grim. Nikki felt her heart start to flutter.
“Where’s Myra?”
“Chasing the bad guys with a Pakistani taxi driver,” Isabelle said. “I need a drink. Before you say it, there was nothing we could do about it.”
“I’ll second that,” Kathryn said. “We have to call Charles.”
Nikki motioned to the waitress and the women ordered drinks. “I just got off the phone with Charles. I have to call him back. Myra and Annie are…are tailing those guys? What were they thinking?”
“I don’t think they did a whole lot of thinking, Nikki. They reacted instead,” Kathryn said. “They were wired, I can tell you that. The creeps took off in a limo. Limos don’t drive very fast so their driver should be able to keep up. That’s all I know, Nikki. I’m not worried about Myra and Annie. Those two can take care of themselves. I’m worried about the fact that those two reporters are here.”
The drinks arrived. Nikki paid with cash. “I really have to call Charles. He’s going to go thermonuclear whe
n he hears about Myra and Annie,” she said, gulping from her vodka and tonic to fortify herself.
Charles picked up on the first ring.
“It’s me. What do you want us to do, Charles?”
“Where’s Myra?” Charles barked, ignoring the question.
Nikki gritted her teeth. “Kathryn said Myra and Annie commandeered a cab and followed the perverts who sped away in a limo.”
“They what?” Charles exploded.
Nikki squeezed her eyes shut as she gulped more of the tart drink in her hand. “You heard me, Charles. I wasn’t there and I seriously doubt the others could have stopped either one of them. Tell us what you want us to do.”
“The only thing you can do is abort the mission. It’s been compromised.”
“Charles, for God’s sake, that’s spook talk. Talk to me in English. Tell me why. We can handle this. We’re here. Don’t act in haste.”
“No, I don’t think you can handle it. This has gone wrong from the outset. Those two reporters are there for a reason and the reason is all of you. Somehow, someway, one of us miscalculated and they picked up on it.”
“Do you want us to try and find them? We can start calling the hotels and motels. It will take a while, though. This might be a good time to trot out those damn gold shields you have on that mysterious payroll of yours.”
Charles ignored the reference to the gold shields. “That would be an exercise in futility since there are thousands of hotels and motels, and if they’re as smart as I know they are, they wouldn’t register under their own names. I want you to abort the mission. That’s an order. Get word to Myra immediately.”
“With all due respect, Charles, isn’t that our decision to make? Right now, five of us are here. Majority rules but I will put your order to them and call you back. I’ll do my best to reach Myra but I can’t promise anything.” Nikki ended the call before Charles could protest further. She wondered why he hadn’t responded to her mention of the gold shields.
Nikki licked at her lips. “Charles says we should abort the mission.” The announcement was met with stony-faced silence. “We have to take a vote,” she went on. Majority rules. Raise your hand if you agree with Charles’s order.” When no one raised a hand, Nikki said, “Well, I guess that takes care of that.” She looked around, stunned at all the movie stars walking around. Any other time she might have gawked the way the tourists were doing. Not today, though. She had other, more important things on her mind.
“We can’t sit here forever,” Isabelle said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to our hotel, either. We better find some low-end dive to hang our hats till we figure this all out. Those reporters will call around to see where we’re staying. This is just my opinion but I think it’s okay for Myra and Annie to be staying here at this ritzy place. That’s expected. We can leave a message for Myra and Annie and call them later when we’re settled. We need a car, too.”
“There’s a car reserved in the name of Mary Clare Peabody and Charles gave me the ID to go with it. It should be here waiting for us,” Kathryn said. “We can talk in the car. All these people milling around here are starting to make me nervous.”
Yoko was wringing her tiny hands. “I am so sorry this is happening. I didn’t know…I didn’t think…Perhaps Charles is right and we should forget all this and go back home.”
Alexis threw her arm around Yoko’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s just a little hiccup. We’ll figure it out. We’re going to get him. We didn’t come halfway across the country to turn around and run back home with our tails between our legs.”
“Let’s go,” Kathryn said as she slung her duffel bag over her shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later the gutsy Ladies of Pinewood were cruising the streets of Los Angeles like they owned them.
“You have gun?” the taxi driver demanded.
“What’s it to you? Just drive and pay attention to the road,” Annie said.
“Is against the law,” the driver blustered. Annie threw a twenty-dollar bill on the seat.
Myra fingered her pearls with both hands.
“You need to drive a little faster, driver. Look, pull over and I’ll drive,” Annie ordered.
The Pakistani was outraged at the suggestion. “No woman drive this taxi.”
“Then do what I tell you and speed up or I’ll…I’ll rip your heart out through your nose and then I’ll shoot you.” That was good, Annie thought. Good thing she remembered Charles saying that. She dropped another twenty on the front seat.
Myra’s pearls broke. She unbuckled her seat belt and tried to pick them up. She mumbled over and over, “Charles is going to kill us, Charles is going to kill us.”
The driver cowered in his seat. Annie thought she heard him say, “Crazy Americans.”
“Myra, Myra, get up. The limo is slowing down. Look, the driver of the limo has his blinker on. Okay, Mr. Patel, drive right on by and pull over as soon as you can.”
“You get out of my taxi then?”
“No, you’re getting out! I’m going to buy this taxi from you. Pull over. Make it quick. You people move so slow. Myra, forget the damn pearls already.”
The driver pulled to the shoulder of the road but he stubbornly refused to get out of the taxi. “Taxi belong to company. Cannot sell it.”
“Sure you can. I’ll shoot you if you don’t get out.” Annie was already out of the car and walking around to the driver’s side. “Myra, get in the front seat.”
“Here,” Annie said, scribbling out a check and handing it to the driver. “We’re…uh…We’re leasing this fine vehicle. You need to call a taxi for yourself, Mr. Patel.”
The driver got out of the car. Annie towered over him by a good several inches. For some reason the man didn’t seem intimidated. He did take the check, though.
“Hijack. You hijack my taxi. Police come.”
“You stop saying things like that right now or I really will shoot you. I’m not hijacking your taxi. I’m leasing it. Look at the check. It says lease on the message unit. Now, skedaddle and if you call the police I will personally…” Annie fished around in her brain for a Kathryn response and finally came up with what she thought was suitable. “If you do call the police, I will find you and kick your ass all the way back to Pakistan. You got that?”
The Pakistani ran down the road. Annie shrugged as she tried to figure out why getting his ass kicked scared him more than having his heart ripped out through his nose. “You ready, Myra? You got all your pearls?”
Myra settled herself in the front seat and buckled up. Annie waited for a break in traffic and made a U-turn. Cars honked and curses could be heard through the open car windows. Annie ignored them as she headed back to the driveway that led to Michael Lyons’s estate.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Myra snapped.
“What’s not to enjoy? But to answer your question, yes, I am enjoying this little caper. We should have a game plan,” she said, swerving into the driveway.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you leased this vehicle. We should call Charles. Annie, this is not a good idea. In fact, it’s a terrible idea.”
“I know but we don’t have anything else going for us right now except guts and bravado. For someone who is in charge of this organization, you aren’t very observant.”
“I’ve had those pearls forever. They were my grandmother’s. I feel naked without them. I have to call Charles. What’s that mean, I’m not observant?”
“You can have the pearls restrung. I know an excellent jeweler. Why do you insist on worrying Charles? Don’t you have any faith in our ability?” She sounded like she was discussing the weather. “By being observant I meant you should have picked up on the car behind us. I think someone’s been following us. I said, think, Myra. This spy stuff is new to me so I might be wrong. Like I said before, don’t you have any faith in our ability?”
“Not one damn bit,” Myra snapped. “No one is following us because no one kn
ows we were stupid enough to practically steal a taxi. We…got away…clean.”
“I love it when you get cranky, Myra. Oh, there’s a guardhouse with a guard. How shall we play this? Bear in mind there is going to be a lot of testosterone in that house. This might be a good time for an epiphany of some sort.”
“I should have pushed you off that cliff in Spain. God, why didn’t I do that?” Myra muttered under her breath.
Annie brought the car to a complete stop at the guardhouse. “Countess de Silva to see Mr. Lyons. This is an emergency, hence our arrival in this taxi. My limousine had a bit of a problem so the kind driver of this taxi…allowed us the use of it. Please explain all that to my dear friend Mr. Lyons and please stress the word urgent.”
Myra Rutledge, also known as the CIC, or the Cat in Charge, said, “I’m calling Charles.”
Back at LAX, Jack Emery and Harry Wong stepped out into the California sunshine. They headed for the Hertz rental car he’d reserved, got in, opened up the map and perused it. Harry chattered nonstop.
“I thought I’d be able to smell orange blossoms. Isn’t California known for its orange blossoms? What the hell are we doing here, anyway, Jack? I know you said the girls needed us but I think you need to tell me why. Ah, Jack, look out the window.”
“Harry, will you shut up long enough for me to read this map? We have all afternoon to talk.”
“Jack…”
Jack tossed the map on the dash. “What?” he stormed.
“There’s a man at the window who looks like he wants your attention.”
Jack swiveled around to see a tall, muscular man motion for him to roll down his window. His heart pumping, Jack turned on the engine and pressed the button that would lower the window. “Yeah.”
“Mr. Emery, welcome to California! It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Wong. I’ve heard all about you,” the man said pleasantly.
7. Free Fall Page 17
