Chapter 2
It was Thanksgiving eve, and the compound on Big Pine Mountain was quiet. The reason for the silence was the late hour and the fact that snow had been falling for the past nine hours. A giant white blanket covered the mountaintop, making it picture-postcard perfect.
Charles Martin prowled the confines of his command center, his thoughts all over the map as he stared down at the paperwork Maggie Spritzer had brought with her earlier in the day. With the investigation his own people had done, he felt like he had a solid basis to move forward when the guests left on Sunday and the Sisters got down to the mission at hand. He now walked out of the command center, slipped on a heavy mackinaw, and opened the front door. A blast of early-winter air rushed through the room. He smiled at the high drifts of snow on the porch. He stood under the overhang and fired up his pipe. The smoke from the cherry tobacco in his pipe and the heady scent from the evergreens were an intoxicating mixture. He loved it. Loved seeing the steady snowfall, knowing all his chicks inside were safe and sound. For now.
Tomorrow they would all sit down to a huge dinner he would begin preparing in just a few short hours. They would all pray and give thanks for so many things. He hoped his voice didn't falter when he offered up his own thanks. As he puffed on his pipe he thought about the son he'd never gotten a chance to know. He knew that if he let the tears flow, they'd freeze on his lashes. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wasn't that he was banishing all thoughts of Geoffrey, but that it was unbearable to think about his son, the traitor.
Charles listened to the silence around him. He wondered what it would be like to live in a world as silent as the one he was standing in. Never to hear the sounds of laughter, never to hear the wind rustling in the trees, never to hear the birds chirping early in the morning. That was an unbearable thought. He shifted his mental gears to the work at hand. Not that dinner was work. He could prepare a Thanksgiving feast with his eyes closed. What he couldn't do with his eyes closed was figure out what was going on with Baron Bell. Or with his eyes open, for that matter.
He whirled around when he sensed a presence. "Myra! What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I'm up because the bed got cold. Why are you standing out here, Charles?"
"The world looks so clean and pure right now. It's so perfect, I just want it to be like this forever, but that's a foolish wish on my part."
Myra reached out and nestled her hand within his. "It is beautiful. The snow came early this year. I'm ready to get married now, Charles. I thought maybe on New Year's Day. I'd like Nellie to marry us. Say something now, Charles, because I don't think I will get the nerve again to make this commitment."
"But you didn't ask me. You made an announcement. I'm supposed to get down on my knee and ask you."
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Myra asked.
Charles dropped to one knee and reached for Myra's hand. "Myra, will you marry me on New Year's Day? If you say yes, I promise to love and honor you into eternity."
"My answer is yes, Charles. Will you make the announcement at dinner?"
"If that's what you want, then, yes, it will give me great pleasure to announce our betrothal. You just made me the happiest man in the world." Charles moved his arm and wrapped it around his beloved's shoulders. "What made you pick this moment in time, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Well, Charles, we aren't getting any younger. In fact, we're getting older by the day. If that isn't enough of an answer, I realized I don't like cold beds. And you're right. This moment, right now, this instant, is so perfect, it just seemed like the right time. I'm going to have Annie stand up for me. Whom will you choose, Charles, to be your best man?"
"Elias. You don't think the boys will be upset, do you?"
"No more than the girls will be upset with my choosing Annie."
"I don't have a ring for you, Myra."
Myra laughed. "The ring isn't important. Just ask Elias for one of his cigar bands. That will do nicely."
Charles reached for his bride-to-be. "My life is now complete, Myra. I think we should go inside before we both freeze to death out here, and then there won't be a wedding at all."
"I think you might be right. Come along, my darling. I'll help you get started with your Thanksgiving dinner."
Charles pretended horror. "My dear, you are worthless in the kitchen. But you can watch me. Let's have an early breakfast. You can brown the buns and make the coffee and squeeze the juice. We received a box of Baby Bell oranges with our food order yesterday. Wait till you see them. Each one is more perfect than the other. And to think you can get them only at this particular time of year. Amazing."
Myra linked her arm with Charles's. "I'm going to learn to cook, Charles. I've been watching the Food Network."
Charles laughed all the way across the compound as he half dragged Myra through the deep snow.
Thanksgiving dinner was everything everyone had hoped it would be. Good friends breaking bread and giving thanks together. Chef Charles accepted the accolades heaped on him with a gracious smile. The conversation was light, at times bantering, but always in good taste. Even Murphy and Grady whooped their thanks at the heaping plates Charles set out for them, but instead of turkey, they had roast chicken.
Jack passed on the pumpkin pie, saying he was allergic, and went with the pecan pie. The others hooted with laughter at the remembrance of the truckload of pumpkins back in Utah. One and all agreed that it seemed like a lifetime ago.
Coffee and brandy were served in the living room, in front of a blazing fire, which Elias and Bert maintained. Outside, the snow continued to fall. Relaxing music, golden oldies that no one objected to, played softly.
Even though there were football games on the big-screen via satellite, no one opted to watch them. All were content to sit and revel in the peaceful atmosphere with good friends.
When Charles walked into the living room carrying a huge silver tray with two bottles of champagne, they all knew something interesting was about to happen. Myra, at his side, held an identical silver tray with exquisite cut-glass wine flutes.
Nikki looked over at Jack and winked. The heirloom crystal flutes had appeared months ago, brought from Myra's farmhouse to the mountain by Nellie. This, whatever this was, must really be important. Feeling a nudge to her shoulder, Nikki turned and wasn't surprised when she heard a whisper in her ear.
"This is Mummie's big day, Nik. She's finally going to do it."
"About time," Nikki said under her breath. She risked a glance around the room, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the fact that Barbara's spirit was in attendance.
Charles uncorked the first bottle of champagne. They all watched the cork sail upward, then spiral down to land at Myra's feet. The second cork went upward, spiraled down, and settled at Charles's feet. The little group clapped their hands.
"Nice going, Barb," Nikki mumbled.
"You should see what I can do when I put my mind to it." The spirit giggled. "Shhh, here it comes."
Charles cleared his throat. "I have an announcement to make. I've asked Myra to marry me, and she finally said yes. I asked her on bended knee in the snow at four thirty this morning on the front porch. I hope you're all as happy for us as we are for ourselves. So, let's drink a toast to this happy couple."
Nikki wasn't sure, but she thought she saw her spirit sister settle herself between her mother and father. Then again, maybe it was the smoke that suddenly billowed out of the fireplace before it was sucked back in and then straight up the chimney. "Nice going, Barb."
"Thanks, Nik. Give them both an earthly hug for me, okay?"
"You got it!" Nikki untangled herself and got to her feet to accept her flute of champagne. To Charles and Myra, she whispered, "I have orders to give you both an earthly hug. One earthly hug coming up," she said, wrapping her arms around Charles and Myra without spilling a drop of champagne.
"She was here, wasn't she?" Myra whispered.
"Oh, yeah, she wa
s here." Nikki smiled. "She approves."
"I felt her right beside me," Charles murmured.
"She was between us, wasn't she, Nikki?" Myra asked.
Nikki nodded. "Smack-dab in the middle. I am so happy for you both."
The little group started to sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" and then they switched up to "For She's a Jolly Good Lady." All off-key, but no one cared.
Cushions and blankets appeared out of nowhere as the happy guests sprawled wherever there was room. No one noticed until later that Annie and Isabelle had left the living room and returned to the building where they lived.
"I saw how unhappy you were, Isabelle. I know how you feel. I pretty much felt like a third wheel myself. Suddenly everyone became a couple. Don't get me wrong. That's a good thing. I don't think anyone will miss us, at least not for a little while, and even then they'll think we ate too much and are taking a nap. Everyone has a partner but you and I. I think we should do something about that, and I think we should do it right now!"
"And that would be...what?" Isabelle asked tentatively.
What indeed? "Well, you did tell me and the others on one or more occasion that you thought that guy in the Vegas casino was pretty hot. There for a while after we got back to the mountain, I thought you were pining for him. You said you looked right into his eyes and liked what you saw. You know the guy I'm talking about, the one you socked in the eye! You even remembered his name. Stu Franklin. He said if you ever take a vacation, you'd be able to find him on the beach in the Caymans. You said if we were ever pardoned, that was the first place you were going. You even asked Charles to have his people run a profile on him, and if I'm not mistaken, you have it in your possession."
Isabelle sighed. "All true, but that was then and this is now. How do you suppose one would go about finding someone on the beach in the Caymans, someone who is hiding out from the law?"
Annie could feel herself getting into it. "I know people, Isabelle," she said vaguely as her mind raced. "Listen, you're an architect. Draw me a picture of him from memory. Do it now."
Isabelle ran to her room and returned with a sketch pad. Her drawing pencil moved swiftly, with sure, deft strokes. Ten minutes later she held up Stu Franklin's likeness.
Annie stared at the picture. "Damn, girl, the man looks hot!"
"He was so hot, Annie, I felt like my eyebrows were on fire. How else do you think I was able to draw such a likeness? I wonder if he remembers me or his invitation. He probably has hundreds of beach bunnies running after him."
"Trust me, honey, he remembers you. He singled you out." Annie wondered if what she was saying was true. "You're beautiful, and he was helping you. He didn't have to do what he did that day. I think it's safe to say, he meant every word he said."
Isabelle threw her hands in the air. "What good is this going to do me except make me more sad that I'm alone?"
"Not for long. Come on. Put your jacket and boots on, and let's go to the command center. I told you I know people."
Outside, the snow was still falling.
"Do you think it will ever stop, Annie?"
"Oh, who cares? You need to be thinking of crashing waves, white sand, sultry breezes, and that...that guy on the beach. I wonder if anyone told him he's safe from prosecution. See, that's your...your reason for calling when we finally locate him. Even a lame reason is better than no reason, because he probably already knows, but there's no way for you to know that he knows. Did that make sense?"
"Well, yes, in a cockamamie way."
They were in the command center, and Annie was standing at Charles's workstation. She took a deep breath, picked up one of Charles's special encrypted phones. She dialed a number from memory and waited. Isabelle watched her and knew in her gut that whatever Annie was up to, she was going to pull it off. She walked off, sensing that Annie didn't want her eavesdropping on her secret private conversation.
"So, do you know who this is?" Annie said to the person who answered the phone.
"Ah, Miss No Name. Just for the record, I'm wearing my magic decoder ring. That means our conversation is safe. Are you calling to wish me a happy Thanksgiving?"
"Among other things. Are you keeping your eyes on my half of our business, partner?"
"Twenty-four-seven. Did you have your dinner yet?"
"I did, and it was wonderful. I need a favor and I need it now."
The voice on the other end of the line grumbled. "What is it with you women? You always want everything now. Since I'm three hours behind you, that means I have not had my dinner yet, and my 'now' is not the same as your 'now' with the time difference."
"Don't worry about it," Annie snapped. "You'll be eating turkey for a week anyway. I want you to find someone for me right away. You did say you were...well, what you said was you..."
"The term you're looking for is...'connected.' Which I am. All right, all right. What am I going to get out of this deal? If I decide your request is worthy of my expertise."
Annie swallowed hard. What would the girls say? What would Myra say? "Well, Mr. Fish, partner, you get me."
Oh, God, did she really say that? Obviously she did, because Fish was sputtering on the other end of the phone. Annie listened.
"Oh, get over yourself, Mr. Fish. Admit it, you don't have a clue as to what to do with me. Not to worry. I'll show you."
Oh, God, did she say that, too? She blinked when she heard laughter on the other end. Annie listened again.
"What do you mean when? It's not like I'm free to come and go as I please. When you least expect it, I'll be there." Annie groaned inwardly. She rather thought there was a song with lyrics like that. She felt her face flame. "So, give me your fax number, and I'm going to send you a picture of the man I want you to find. Think in terms of rewards for a job well done. The kind you never dreamed of, that's what kind." Annie squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she was going to have to powwow with the girls to come up with rewards. Her whole body felt so hot, she wanted to run out naked in the snow. Fish was still sputtering on the other end of the line.
Annie slid the drawing into the fax machine and punched in the number Fish had managed to give her during his sputtering.
"How long is this going to take?" Annie asked. "Did I also mention that I...we need the man's cell phone number and we want a guarantee that he will answer it when we call? You can do that, can't you, Fish?"
More garbled words.
"What? What? Are you saying you lied to me? You said you worked for some secret branch of the government no one has ever heard of. You said you were a terrorist and a mercenary. I believed you. Otherwise I wouldn't have called you. Oh, I cannot believe I tumbled to your silver tongue. You can just forget those rewards."
She listened, her eyebrows shooting upward.
"Well, that's more like it. The rewards are back on the table. Of course I'll wait for your call. Where do you think I'm going to go? No, I'm not sending you a list of the rewards. Well, maybe I could send the first three." Annie made kissing sounds into the phone before she broke the connection.
"Isabelleeeeeee!" Annie screeched at the top of her lungs.
"Oh, no, your source said he couldn't help. It's all right, Annie. You tried, and I appreciate it. I guess it just isn't meant to be."
"Shut up, Isabelle. It's in the bag. In a few hours you will be talking to Mr. Franklin. It's what I promised to get the information for you."
"Oh, Annie, what did you promise? Are you saying you can't deliver on your promise?"
Annie told her. Isabelle blinked. Then she blinked again before she doubled over laughing. When she finally stopped laughing, she managed to gasp. "I think we can come up with a suitable list of rewards. We might even be able to come up with instructions. You do realize what the problem is, right?"
"Oh, God, what could be worse?" Annie groaned.
Isabelle started to giggle and couldn't stop. "Following through," she finally managed to gasp.
Annie sat down with a thump. "What s
hould I wear?"
"You aren't getting it, Annie. Zip."
"But..."
"A promise is a promise, Annie."
Annie rose to the occasion. "My dear, if you can make contact with Mr. Franklin, I can certainly honor my promise." YIPPEEEEE!
Four hours later eastern standard time, Annie's cell phone rang. She bolted upright from where she'd been dozing on the sofa. She gave Isabelle a shout to wake up where she, too, was dozing by the fire. "My phone is ringing. I think this call might be for you, honey."
Isabelle reached for the phone and said, "Hello, this is Isabelle."
"Well, Isabelle, this is Stu Franklin. There's this guy standing here with a gun to my head, and he's telling me to talk pretty to you. Not that anyone needs to tell me something like that. I'd appreciate it if you'd tell him he can leave me now so we can have a private conversation. I'm going to put him on the phone right now, before he blows my head off."
Isabelle managed to squeak out, "Thank you for your help, sir. I appreciate your doing this for me on Thanksgiving. I hope I didn't take you away from your dinner."
The voice on the other end of the phone mumbled something that sounded like he was glad he didn't have to kill anyone on Thanksgiving. Isabelle was so light-headed, she had to sit down.
Stu Franklin's voice was soft, cultured, intimate sounding. "Somehow or other, Isabelle, I thought you would have gotten in touch with me in a more conventional way. But, I admire your aggressiveness. I'm glad you called. Are you having a nice Thanksgiving?"
"I did...I am...I was until...oh, never mind. I didn't spoil yours, did I?"
"No. I just had a hot dog with all the trimmings on the beach. Did you have the whole enchilada, meaning a turkey with all the trimmings?"
"I did. I love hot dogs with all the trimmings, too."
"I saw that picture you did of me. Pretty good. Are you an artist?"
"No, I'm an architect. I feel...I feel kind of foolish and pushy right now. Maybe someday I can explain what made me...what I mean is..."
Deadly Deals Page 3
