In Plain Sight

by Fern Michaels

  Dennis was up and off his chair as he rinsed the coffeepot and turned it off. The rule was no one ever left Charles’s kitchen a mess. As in ever. He hung the dish towel over the oven door on the handle, looked around, and announced that they were good to go.

  “Should we leave a note?” Espinosa asked.

  Jack scribbled a note and stuck it on the fridge.

  “I just sent Sparrow a text, and he said he’ll meet us at the Squire’s Pub at twelve-thirty,” Ted announced.

  They all piled into the Post van. Dennis lagged behind, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of Rosalee, but the farmhouse remained quiet. No curtains moved, the dogs didn’t bark. It was like there was no one home. Maybe later, if they decided to come back to the farm after lunch, which didn’t seem likely since Ted was expounding on the afternoon schedule. He wished Rosalee had a phone so he could text her, but he knew his life would hang in the balance if he tried to sneak her one. He sighed mightily as he slid into his seat and buckled up. He did his best to shift his thoughts to the girls and what they were doing in the war room.

  What the girls were doing, as a matter of fact, was staring at each other as they tried to come to terms with a resolution to what they called the Lincoln Moss Debacle.

  The picture of Lady Justice on the big-screen plasma TV kept them on their toes as Charles and Fergus did whatever they were doing up on the dais. They could all hear the pings and whirring of the copy machine and fax as they tried to concentrate on the best outcome for Amalie Laurent and Rosalee Muno.

  “The way I see it,” Kathryn said, “we have two choices. Either we take him out at the Four Seasons on Saturday night, or we wait a few days and hit him where he lives. Secret Service will be crawling all over the Four Seasons, and we don’t even know for sure if Moss is going to attend. When it comes right down to it, we don’t know anything about the bastard other than that he went off on Maggie yesterday. That tells us he’s on edge, so he’s going to be superalert.”

  “I don’t think he would expect anything to go awry at the Four Seasons for the very reason you just articulated,” Isabelle said. “He knows now that Amalie is going to attend. Unless he thinks that was some kind of ploy to draw him out. But, having said that, he doesn’t know we’re after him.”

  “We could have it all down pat, get everyone in place, then he’s a no-show. All that wasted time and effort. Personally, I don’t think he’s going to show,” Yoko said.

  “We need to start thinking the way Lincoln Moss thinks,” Nikki said. “For starters, he thinks no one knows Amalie bailed out on him five years ago. He’s managed to cover that all up. Now, suddenly, things have changed. First was the picture and article in the tabloid. At that point, he had to start thinking that someone knew what had happened. Without a doubt, he has hired the biggest and the best investigative agencies around. Abner verified that from his checking account. He’s spent over a million dollars trying to find Amalie, all with nothing to show for it.

  “I’m thinking he won’t have the guts to show up Saturday night. But what I think he will do is be there in disguise, sitting in the lobby or hiding behind a palm tree or something. And if it isn’t him in the lobby or behind a palm tree, it will be someone he hires, someone who will let him know if his wife really is attending the gala. For that matter, he could sit in the parking lot and watch unobserved,” Nikki said.

  “Wrong!” Maggie said. “Secret Service will be swarming all over the place. The guests of the hotel will probably be assigned a separate entrance, so that means no one will be hanging out in the lobby. Ted and I have covered enough of these events to know that that is how it works. However, there is a possibility, if Moss has the juice he says he has, that he could have booked a room in advance and, therefore, be a guest. With his clout, he could probably still get a room at the last second. Scratch the parking lot. I heard on the radio on my way out here this morning that the District police will be in charge of the parking lot. They said they were canceling all leave and bringing in everyone to help. Moss has got to know all that.”

  “Or he could do the unexpected and show up as himself and try to pull it off. As himself, he doesn’t have to go through anything other than to show up. All it will take is one look to see if his wife is there or not. What he does from that point on will be a mystery to us, at least for now. My guess is he would leave ASAP once he saw his wife,” Nikki said.

  The women started to talk on top of one another, but in the end, they all agreed that Moss’s showing up was the best working scenario that they could count on.

  “If what you’re saying is he’s going to be in and out, there’s nothing we can do in a room full of people,” Annie said.

  “Not so fast, Countess,” Myra said. “We could surround him and you, my dear friend, can gush all over him. He’ll be hard-pressed to dis you. But then what will we do? Remember, there will be well over a thousand people there if what Maggie said turns out to be true.”

  The women went back to jabbering and pointing fingers and at one point yelling at each other. Kathryn put her fingers to her lips and let loose with a bloodcurdling whistle. “Enough already! Obviously, it will be too dangerous to do anything at the Four Seasons, and by that I mean dangerous for us. I think we all realize that now. So now we have to make a plan to take him out at his home. I’m thinking we may need Amalie to guarantee that for us.”

  Yoko raised her hand. “I think it’s a given that Moss is going to have some private-eye types casing the Four Seasons to see if Amalie does show up. He’ll have her tailed at the end of the evening. It won’t matter that she’s with Jack Sparrow. What are we going to do about that? Where is he going to take her at the end of the night?”

  “Off the top of my head, I’d say this is a job for Abner and Avery Snowden. Once Abner gives us the names of the detective agencies Moss used, Avery and his people can start tracking them. It will be a case of operatives trailing operatives. I’m almost sure that Director Sparrow will have some of his special agents on duty Saturday night also. I’m not worried about Amalie. Director Sparrow will get her to safety, I guarantee it,” Annie said.

  “Did we decide if Amalie is going as Amalie, the way she used to look before her surgery, with Alexis’s help, or the way she looks now?” Nikki asked. “Maybe we should take a vote.”

  “Maybe we should ask Amalie what she wants?” Kathryn snapped irritably because her leg was starting to ache, which meant that rain was on the horizon. She apologized immediately for her sharp words.

  “Right now, Amalie has no say in the matter. We make all the decisions. She’s too vulnerable and fearful at the moment to know what is best for her. She’ll do whatever we tell her to do because she just wants to put all this behind her and get her life back,” Myra said quietly.

  Maggie let out a whoop of sound. “Ooooh, wait till you hear this! Lisa from the paper, our girl Friday, just sent me a text saying the biggest flower arrangement in the world just arrived for me. She said there are six dozen champagne-colored roses in a decorative bushel basket sitting on my desk. And they are . . . drumroll, la-di-da, from Lincoln Moss! The note said he apologizes for his ridiculous threats yesterday and blamed it on a killer migraine. Well, will wonders never cease. Guess I can stop worrying about being on Homeland Security’s terrorist list and sigh with relief that the IRS isn’t going to come after me. I’m texting Lisa to divvy up the arrangement into separate bouquets and have one of the copy boys take them over to a hospice two blocks from the paper. I don’t want any flowers from Lincoln Moss. I don’t want anything from Lincoln Moss,” Maggie said through clenched teeth, her eyes sparking dangerously.

  “Good for you. I would have done the same thing. Just out of curiosity, Maggie, did you believe Moss’s threats?” Isabelle asked.

  “I did believe that he would try to do what he threatened to do. Because that’s the kind of mean, spiteful person he is. I’m not above being scared out of my wits when someone threatens me. But did I think he would succe
ed? No, not really. Still . . .

  “Six dozen roses. That’s seventy-two roses. Yep, guess he would need a bushel basket for that many.” Maggie laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. “What’s my next move, girls?”

  “I guess calling him to thank him. I think I’d call him on his landline at home if I were you, though. Then throw him a bone and tell him he’s inching up to the number one slot for your Man of the Year contest,” Alexis said.

  “Okay, I’ll do that later. I don’t want to appear eager or anything.”

  “Back to our game plan,” Yoko said. “What is it?”

  “We need to know first and foremost how serious Moss’s security is at his home. How many guards there are for one thing? And is the security 24/7 or just at night? Why does the guy need security anyway? And dogs, we need to know if there are dogs on the premises. Is his help live-in or do they go home at night? Amalie might know, but then again, things might have changed after she left,” Nikki said.

  “Not to change the subject, but do any of you read the financial page in the morning?” No one raised her hand. “Well, I do,” Annie said. “Several days ago, there was an article about La Natural and how Moss’s crown jewel of his holdings is tanking. The company lost its billion-dollar status and is now only a million-dollar company. Regardless, the company made him mega billions since he bought it. The bastard still has enough money to live a life of luxury over a thousand lifetimes.”

  “No! No! No, Annie! He only has the use of the money until my husband hits the one key that takes it all away.” Isabelle chortled.

  “There is that, you’re absolutely right,” Annie agreed, laughing. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes it’s all gone.”

  “Okay, girls, time to get to the good stuff. What is his punishment going to be?” Myra demanded.

  Up on the dais, Charles and Fergus shivered at the evil laughter wafting their way.

  The brainstorming went on for several hours but in low tones, so that neither Charles nor Fergus was privy to any of the actual decisions. From time to time, they would flinch when they heard the women whoop and cackle with delight. They did whisper to each other that the bloke had no idea what was coming his way. Both men almost jumped out of their skin when they heard Annie say, “That’s it, then. We have a few days till we head his way, so I’ll set the wheels in motion. Girls, I’m proud of us. I knew we could come up with something unique and deserving for that disgrace to manhood.” The girls all clapped and whistled. Fergus peeked around the corner in time to see the women high-fiving each other. And to think his companion was the ringleader. He had the urge to step down and high-five her himself, but he knew that Charles wouldn’t approve.

  The women all shouted a loud good-bye as they trooped out of the war room. When the door closed behind them, Charles flopped down in his swivel chair. Fergus joined him in an adjoining chair. Both men looked at each other. “Whatever it is, it certainly pleased them to no end. I think that’s the part they like the most, doling out the punishment they know the courts would never allow. I can’t say I disagree with them, either. If Moss was taken into custody for spousal abuse, what’s the worst thing the courts would do to him considering his position and the thousand-dollar-an-hour battery of lawyers he would have defending him? Not to mention the judges he plays golf with. Maybe probation. But more than likely, he’d get off scot-free, and Amalie would be the one who gets the short end of the stick. That happens to the victims a lot. Not with our girls, though. This time, Amalie will be the victor, and Moss will get whatever they think he deserves. How can we argue with that, Fergus?”

  “We can’t, Charles. We both did it back in the day when we had to. It’s just, I don’t know, strange I guess is the word I’m looking for, that women can do this.”

  Charles laughed out loud and slapped at his knees with his open palms. “Those women were born to do this. It took me a while, but I finally realized how very capable they are. Not to mention wily, crafty, downright devious, and in plain English, they don’t give a good rat’s ass who gets in their way if they are on a mission. Actually, I applaud them all.”

  Fergus felt his chest puff out. And Annie was the ringleader, his amour. He knew Charles felt the same way, and he also thought of Myra as the backbone of the Vigilante group. No doubt about it, the ladies had it going on.

  “Well, Fergus, unless we plan on eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for our meal, we need to get moving here and see about dinner. Your tapioca banana pudding should be ready to go into the oven about now.”

  Fergus heaved himself up and looked around. “What about our guest in the cell down at the end of the hall, Charles?”

  “What about her?” Charles asked.

  “Should we check on her?”

  “Why?” Charles asked.

  “Okay, I get it, not our purview. I am getting hungry, so let’s head for the kitchen.”

  “I’m right behind you, pardner,” Charles cackled.

  Chapter 18

  “The day is still young. I think we should do something constructive,” Annie said.

  “What do you have in mind, Annie?” Nikki asked.

  Annie shrugged. “Something has been bothering me about all of this, and no one else picked up on it so I thought . . . think maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Talk to us,” Myra said.

  “Amalie and Rosalee both told us that when Lincoln Moss’s beatings went over the top and he cracked and broke ribs and bones, he’d call a doctor to come to the house. Aren’t doctors supposed to report abuse to the authorities, or is that just for people like teachers, where children are concerned? I’m sorry I’m so ignorant on the subject. And where did Moss get a doctor who if he didn’t suspect what was going on, would keep his mouth shut? I think it’s important.

  “When Abner went through Moss’s personal checking account, there were numerous checks made out to a Dr. Symon Mattison. I Googled him, and he’s an internist with an excellent reputation. He has a private practice and admitting privileges at Georgetown University Medical Center. That means he has to be at their beck and call if a case needing his expertise shows up.

  “He has a very big practice. A staff of six plus two associates. And he makes house calls!” Annie said, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline at this unbelievable revelation. “I don’t know a single doctor in this area who makes house calls. That’s not to say there aren’t any, but I think it would be newsworthy if there were. This is, after all, the nation’s capital.”

  “And this means what to us?” Myra asked.

  “What can we do with the information?” Nikki asked.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to have all of Amalie’s records so that when we take down Moss, we can shove them under his nose? And they might help Amalie get a quick divorce when there is no Moss around to consent to one after we make him disappear. Not to mention that Amalie might want to ask the good doctor why he didn’t help her by reporting her various injuries.”

  “But she and Rosalee both said they lied to the doctor and said all those beatings were accidents, that she was accident-prone, blah blah blah,” Myra said.

  “The man’s a doctor, Myra. He’s trained to spot things like that. He chose, for whatever his reasons, not to say anything. Abner made a note saying Mattison has played golf a time or two with Moss and the President. That means they are at least quasi-friends. It also probably means the good doctor and his wife were probably invited to the White House. In this town, that would give the wife a certain amount of prestige among the other medical wives. By the way, the current wife is number four, just in case you’re counting.”

  “Believe it or not, there are those among us who can look away when a prize is offered. Moss could hand out the prizes,” Annie said.

  “Let me guess. You want us to pay a visit to the doctor, right?” Nikki asked.

  “The thought did cross my mind. It’s only two-thirty. We have the rest of the afternoon in front of us. Everyo
ne else is doing something. Alexis is going through all those treasure boxes that arrived. Isabelle is helping Abner, and she’s becoming quite the hacker. Kathryn had to leave for therapy. Yoko said she had to be at the nursery because some shipment of something or other was due to arrive, and she had to be there to sign off on it. Maggie is back at the paper with the boys, working on her call to Moss and the Man of the Year contest. Harry has classes, and Jack is helping. That leaves the three of us, and I absolutely do not want to go home and look at those mountains of mud around the house,” Nikki said.

  “Let’s do it,” Myra said. She looked at Nikki and Annie to see if she thought they would pass muster for a trip to a prestigious internist’s office. Satisfied with what she was seeing, she gave the pearls around her neck a jerk, and asked, “Who’s driving?”

  “Me!” Nikki said before Annie could get her tongue to work. “I want to get there in one piece. No offense, Annie.”

  Annie laughed. “None taken, dear. So, how do we play this. Do we go in, flash our gold shields, and play badass agents? Or what?”

  “That sounds about right,” Myra said. “I’m itching to take someone on right now.”

  “Whoa, Myra,” Nikki said as she gunned her BMW and raced down the long road that would take her to the highway. “I need an address, ladies.”

  Annie flashed her phone. “I have the address right here. I’ll program it into your GPS, and it will take us right to the door. The doctor owns the building. Eighteen thousand square feet. He even does minor procedures there. According to what I’m seeing here, we should be at the door in thirty-three minutes.”

  “That’s if you were driving, Annie. Since Nikki is driving, add fifteen more minutes.” Myra laughed. “Have you given any thought to the doctor’s not being there? Then what do we do?”

  Annie held up her hand. “Not to worry, he has office hours till four. I checked.”

  “I’m excited,” Myra said as she fingered her pearls.

  “You might want to ditch those pearls, Myra. I don’t think special agents of the government wear pearls even if they are considered badasses when they do an insertion. That’s what we’re doing, you know.” Myra dutifully tucked her heirloom pearls under the collar of the button-down shirt she was wearing.