Mark was bug-eyed as he broke the connection on his cell phone. Jack was going to spin out of orbit! He hit SPEED DIAL and within seconds Jack Emery was on the line. “I got news, big guy. Where the hell are you? Wherever it is, Riley’s agents are on the way to pick you up. Get out of your Dodge, buddy, and head for high ground.”
“I’m safe, Mark. Wassup?”
“I just got a call from Linda Parker, one of the best agents at the Bureau. Riley sent agents out to pick up Judge Easter, Lizzie Fox, Spritzer, Robinson, you and Harry Wong. Is there any way you can warn them?”
“We’re all in the same location, with the exception of Spritzer and Robinson, and I owe them squat. If you recall,” Jack said, trying to give Mark a hint as to where he was, “you and I spent some time here when we had the flu. Let Riley have a go at those reporters. It’s all bullshit, Mark. All that bastard’s so-called evidence is manufactured. J. Edgar had nothing on this guy. He has reams of files that are now in our hands. You got anything else?”
“Well, hell, yes, Jack, I have more. Don’t I always save the best for last? Seems there was a ton of manure dumped in Riley’s driveway and he fell smack-dab into the middle of it, and it was raining. Do you have a visual on this one?”
In spite of himself, Jack burst out laughing. “Yep, that one is definitely going to be a keeper in my memory bank. You gearing up for Carpenter’s funeral?”
“I’m going to pay my respects today. Josh Carpenter was one of the good guys. Hey, there’s a rumor going around that someone named Elias Cummings is going to be taking over the Bureau and Riley is going to be out in the cold. I’ll do a Google search on Cummings when I get off the phone. If the rumor is true, that might explain Riley’s haste to bring in all you guys, make his case that all of you aided and abetted the vigilantes. Think about it, Jack.”
“I have thought about it. Why else do you think I’m sitting where I’m sitting right now? We were one heartbeat ahead of him.”
“Do you need any help, Jack?”
“See what you can find out about Spritzer and Robinson. Maggie’s on the case big time. I have no clue what Ted is doing. Get back to me. Thanks, Mark. I owe you.”
“You owe me your life, you crud,” Mark said as he put a checkmark on his desk calendar under Jack’s name. “By the way, I might be getting married. I’m going to be expecting one hell of a kick-ass present.”
“No shit! Who would be dumb enough to marry you, Mark?”
“They’re standing in line, big guy. When you taught me everything you knew, I paid attention, and now women drop at my feet. Her name is April Free and she looks like an angel.”
All Jack could think of to say was to repeat his previous comment, “No shit!” before he closed his cell phone.
“Gather round, ladies, I have something to tell you,” Jack said to the little group watching him.
Mitch Riley stood in his office, his eyes glazed as he tried to comprehend how seven stupid women could do what had just been done to him. As of this minute, he was the fucking acting director of the FBI. The fine print that said the position was only temporary didn’t register with him at all. He knew in his gut he could still save this somehow. He had to save it or he was going to be flushed down a sewer. He didn’t believe for a moment that it could happen. Not to him. He’d given his life to the FBI. He’d ruined his marriage for the Bureau.
Riley marched around his office, cow dung dripping from his clothing. How the hell did the damn vigilantes get into his house and where the fuck was that crazy wife of his? He walked over to look at the Medeco lock on the door. Not a scratch to be seen. How the hell did those damn vigilantes get a key? Even Alice didn’t have a key. Was it possible Alice found the duplicate key? No way, the key was in the office, locked away in one of his desk drawers.
Riley knew his blood pressure had to be sky-high, so he sat down…and immediately regretted it. Now his chair would stink like cow shit. He hopped off but the damage was done. He needed to think. Think. A soothing shower almost always worked for him, enabling him to think, to plan, without intrusions. Maybe it would work today.
In the shower, cursing under his breath, Riley poured shampoo over his hair and body. He used a back scrubber and ran it over every inch of his body until his skin tingled. He rinsed off and did it again and then again. Satisfied that he’d washed the stink off himself, he climbed out of the shower and briskly towel-dried himself. He was about to brush his teeth when the house phone rang in the bathroom. “This better be good news,” he muttered under his breath.
Fully expecting his wife to be on the other end of the phone, he snarled, “Alice, I need to talk to you.”
Riley heard someone clearing his throat. “Sorry, boss, it’s Tomaso. I wasn’t able to pick up Jack Emery or Harry Wong. I went to both their homes, to Wong’s dojo and no one has seen either one of them since the day before yesterday. What do you want me to do, boss?”
Riley clenched his teeth. “I want you to find their fucking asses and bring them to the Hoover Building. I don’t want to see your face unless you have them on a leash. Do you hear me, Tomaso?”
“Yes, boss.”
Riley was hopping around on one foot while he yanked at his jockey shorts when the phone rang again. This time it was Massey explaining that Judge Easter and her four cats were AWOL. He went on to explain that her bodyguard said she hadn’t left the premises since he dropped her off on Friday evening after work. “He’s right, boss, the keypad hasn’t been activated, but I searched the house from top to bottom. The judge is gone.”
Riley was still hopping around, trying to put one leg in his trousers while he juggled the phone on his shoulder. “Let me clue you in on something, Massey. If she’s gone, then so are you. She’s a fucking little old lady. She’s probably hiding in the attic or the cellar. Goddamn it, find her. She didn’t fly out of there. I want to see you and the judge in my office within the hour. Tell me you heard what I just said, Massey.”
Massey sighed. “I heard you, boss.”
Riley finished dressing. He marveled at how tingly he felt after his shower. Nothing like a good, hot shower after falling in a pile of cow dung. He proceeded to tie his tie. A Windsor knot. He loved Windsor knots. The phone rang again. He knew it was Dennis. Son of a fucking bitch! “Yeah!”
“It’s Dennis, sir. Miss Fox isn’t home. I called around to some of her hangouts and she hasn’t been seen. The inside of the house is neat and tidy. Food in the fridge, bed made, no dirty laundry. No sign of her leaving in a hurry. She just isn’t home. Her car is in the garage. It looks to me like she just went out, maybe with a friend, and is coming back. Do you want me to wait it out?”
“What the hell does that tell you, Dennis? For Christ’s sake, you’re a federal agent. If the car is in the garage, someone picked her up or else she walked away under her own power. She isn’t coming back. If you were her and knew what was going on, would you go back? Do I have to think for you, too?”
“I just said that, sir. Except the part about her not coming back.”
“Find her, Dennis. Your job is on the line. Bear that in mind.”
Still tingling and admiring his Windsor knot, Riley slipped into his suit jacket. He peered into the long mirror hanging on the bedroom door. He thought he looked every inch the way the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation should look.
Forgetting his immediate troubles for the moment, he looked around the room he’d once shared with his wife. It still looked the same—satin and lace and froufrous all over the place. When was the last time he’d had sex with his wife? At least four years, maybe longer. Since he really didn’t care, he tossed the thought away. He picked up his keys and his cell phone that he was never without and jammed them into his pockets.
“Where the hell are you, Alice? When I find you, and I will find you, you are going to pay for this. I know you’re behind this. For all I know you’re now one of those damn vigilantes.”
Riley was halfway down the
stairs when his cell phone chirped in his pocket. He snapped off a greeting. It was Frank Peeps, who said he had spotted Maggie Spritzer in a taxi and was about to pick her up and take her to the Hoover Building. “Lupinski has Ted Robinson.”
“You know what to do, Peeps. Don’t let those two reporters talk to one another. I should be back in the office in forty minutes.”
Riley looked out the window before he opened the door. It was still raining heavily. He reached for an umbrella in the stand by the front door. No sense in ruining two suits in one day. He eyed the huge pile of manure and decided to walk across the front lawn instead of trying to skirt the pile of dung. The worst thing that would happen was that his new wingtips would get wet.
Riley was about to get in his sedan when his neighbor, the guy he had often referred to as a half-blind, cranky curmudgeon, approached him with his golden retriever on a leash. “Good afternoon, Mr. Riley, or should I be calling you Director Riley?” he asked with a wide smile.
“Mr. Riley will do just fine,” Riley said in what he hoped was a civil tone. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever spoken to this guy or not. Maybe Alice had told him he was a cranky curmudgeon. Alice was the one who talked to the neighbors in the interest of promoting goodwill. He didn’t give a good rat’s ass about neighborly goodwill.
“Lots of activity at your house this morning, Mr. Riley, but then I guess you already know that. I wanted to call your office but Margaret said we shouldn’t stick our noses into your business. I can’t help but say we were both worried about your wife. She seemed…in such a rush when she got home. Then she left in a bigger rush with your daughter. We thought maybe something happened. Are they all right?”
“They’re just fine. Thank you for your concern.”
“Then there was this big fight out in the middle of the road. One of the biggest men I’ve ever seen was trying to intimidate a taxi driver and a young lady. The young lady ran after your wife as she was driving away in a strange car. A really big vehicle. Then the truck came with the manure. They just backed up and dumped it. Then it started to rain. One of your people arrived, at least Margaret said it was one of your people. She sees better than I do. Margaret said she’s seen him on other occasions.”
Riley digested all the information. A big man. A taxi driver and a young woman. He thanked his neighbor, smiled at the dog, who started to bark, and climbed in his car where he called his secretary. “Tell Morgan to find out which taxi company had a car in my neighborhood this morning. Bring in the driver. I want to know who his fare was. I should be in the office in forty minutes, maybe sooner, depending on this damn rain.”
Riley broke every driving law in the book in his haste to reach the Hoover Building.
He was still marveling at the way his body was tingling from his invigorating shower. He took a moment to wonder why his armpits were itching. The deodorant must be old, he decided.
Chapter 26
Nikki looked into the rearview mirror to see Harry and Yoko holding hands. She wished Jack was here with her. Would they ever truly be together? Was a family in their future? The house with the white picket fence, the three kids, the dog and two cats? For a moment tears blurred her vision because she knew that particular dream wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Maybe never. She swiped at her wet eyes with the back of her hand.
“Turn here, park and let’s talk this out before we make a move,” Harry said. “I want to go on record as saying I think this is one dumb move.”
Nikki pulled the SUV into the lot by the Vietnam Memorial. She stretched her neck to look at The Wall. Chills ran up and down her spine. The same thing had happened when she came here the first time with Jack. Both of them had walked away with tears streaming down their cheeks.
Nikki parked the car and turned off the engine. She was relieved that Harry had screwed on a new license plate to the SUV. By now someone, somewhere, had run the plates that were on it while it was parked in Riley’s driveway. She squirmed around to look at Yoko and Harry. They were still holding hands.
Harry met her gaze. “What? We just go up and snatch her? Right in public? Don’t you think someone might notice? I don’t like this.”
“You already said that, Harry. Our orders are to pick her up. You’re our backup. Yoko and I will do whatever we have to do. I need to make sure you understand that.”
Harry mumbled something neither woman could understand. He was probably cursing in his own language, Nikki thought. He did that a lot.
“I don’t think a snatch per se is what’s going to happen. We’re simply going to invite Maggie to join us in this fine vehicle. To give her our story. Knowing what I know about her, she’ll come willingly. With reporters, it’s all about the scoop, the byline, getting your story above the fold. Maggie Spritzer lives for that. So does Ted but in a different way. Ted is pretty much by the book, while Maggie flies by the seat of her pants, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
“When Isabelle called Spritzer to set up this meet, Maggie told her she’s traveling in a taxi, a green and white one, so she’ll be easy to spot. I think I see the taxi now, in row four. I’m going to move this rig, which will put me as close to the taxi as I’m comfortable with. Yoko goes with me. Harry, you stay in the truck, and keep us in your sights. The rain is in our favor so keep a sharp eye on all of us.”
Anyone watching would see a mother and a little girl climb out of the SUV. Ignoring Nikki’s orders, Harry got out of the truck and trailed behind them, a father bringing up the rear, to those watching.
Inside the taxi, whose meter was still ticking, Maggie watched closely, then slid out of the cab when she saw the trio approach the green and white taxi. She pulled the hood of her windbreaker over her head and advanced a few steps. She narrowed her gaze. It was all she could do to quell the gasp of shock she was feeling. Mrs. Riley and her daughter. Then she squinted to see through the rain. Harry Wong. Her adrenaline shot up to an all-time high, the closer she got to them. So high, she felt lightheaded. Mrs. Riley, my ass. She stopped in her tracks when Nikki said, “If you want your story, you have to come with me, Maggie.”
“I knew it! I knew it! You were at the Riley house. You fooled them all. I’ll be damned. How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t,” Nikki said. “It’s your choice. We’ve been standing here too long already. Make up your mind, Maggie. If you need an incentive, one of us is talking to Ted right now, this very minute. You know what they say, the first one there gets the scoop.”
“Okay, okay. Let me get my backpack.”
As Nikki turned to walk away, she saw a man appear from between two parked cars. She heard a voice address Maggie.
“Ms. Spritzer, Frank Peeps, FBI. I need to talk to you.” A badge flashed.
Maggie was stunned. A show of bravado was definitely called for. “So talk,” she said as she grappled with her backpack while she rummaged for money to pay the driver. Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. She whirled around to see the trio; they were just about out of sight, safe for the moment.
“Who were you talking to, Ms. Spritzer?”
“You writing a book or something?” Her heart was beating so fast Maggie thought it was going to pop right up her throat and out her mouth.
“I asked you a question, Ms. Spritzer. You don’t want to mess with the FBI. What are you doing here and who were those people?”
Maggie weighed her options, which were no options at all. She shifted the backpack on her shoulders for a more comfortable fit. “Look, you tadpole, I’m here to do a story on the Memorial and how people come out to see it rain, snow or shine. How the hell do I know who those people are? They asked for directions to the Lincoln Memorial. In other words, tadpole, they’re tourists. Go ask them yourself. Do I look like an information operator?”
“Director Riley wants to talk to you. I’m to take you in.” It was hard not to miss the sarcasm in the agent’s voice. “If you cause a disturbance, I’ll have to cuff you and make a scen
e. What’s it going to be?”
Maggie risked a glance at the SUV that was backing out of its parking spot. This was where the rubber met the road. She made an instant decision. The vigilantes would know she’d tried to cooperate. If she kept her mouth shut, they might give her another chance. She turned her back and with her right hand behind her, made fluttering motions to indicate to the trio that they should move out NOW. “Sure, why not? It beats standing out here in the rain.”
As Nikki swerved out onto the boulevard, Harry leaned forward. “What the hell happened back there?”
“As unbelievable as it sounds, I think Maggie Spritzer just saved our asses,” Nikki said through clenched teeth. “Yoko, call the house and alert the others. I have to pay attention to the road and the traffic. Tell them we should be home in about thirty minutes.”
Harry continued to mumble and mutter in the backseat. Yoko told him to shut up in no uncertain terms. In English. While she punched in the numbers, she turned to look at her love and said, “This is why we do what we do and you do what you do. I still love you so do not worry about it.” Harry continued to mutter and mumble.
The steady, hard-driving rain continued as Nikki maneuvered the SUV through the heavy Washington traffic.
When Yoko ended the call, she leaned forward. “There is other news. Jack’s friend Mark called him and said Mr. Riley also sent out agents to pick up the judge, Lizzie, Ted, Jack and Harry. They came up dry except for Maggie. I told them what just happened. Myra said she didn’t know if Ted Robinson was picked up or not. Jack was going to call him to give him a heads-up. That is all I know.”
Hide and Seek (The Sisterhood: Rules of the Game, Book 1) Page 17
