Crash And Burn

by Fern Michaels

  No one had a problem with that as they filed out of the dining room and headed to the secret staircase, which would take them all to the catacombs and the war room, which ran under the old farmhouse.

  Back in place with the three red folders in hand, Charles took the floor. He opened the folder that had Amy Jones Lambert’s name on the cover. “I don’t see anything new in here that Nikki hasn’t already told us about her client and newest associate. Maggie’s input is pretty much the same. The young lady doesn’t appear to have existed before she was eighteen years of age. All I see here is that she comes from New York, went to George Washington University, and worked her way through college with several small grants. She married Jeffrey Lambert and moved to California. She graduated, took two years off to work and save money so she could attend law school. During those years, her husband was struggling to start his company. Maggie’s research tells us she was madly in love with her husband, and he with her, which is a direct contradiction to what she told Nikki. Ms. Lambert told Nikki it was two friends who got married, just to belong to someone. In other words, there was no passion involved. A platonic marriage, for want of a better term.

  “No amount of digging or research has turned anything else up. So my suggestion, and the reason Avery is here, is this. Tomorrow morning, Nikki, I want you to show up on Ms. Lambert’s doorstep at the safe house we have her staying in and take her out to breakfast. Make sure she brings nothing with her but her purse. Avery and his people will do a little breaking and entering to see what it is she’s hiding. And she is hiding something, or her early years would be documented. I’m thinking she’d keep it on her person or perhaps in a lockbox of some kind. Possibly in a safe-deposit box or a storage rental company. Now comes the tricky part. Avery and I discussed this, and he feels his people can do it successfully. They will mug the two of you on your way out of the parking lot of wherever you go for breakfast. You’ll have to be a part of it, Nikki, and do your part, which means a full police report. Ms. Lambert will have to file one, too. I think this will work. We need to vote on this.”

  “That’s a great idea, Charles!” Dennis said enthusiastically. “You’re thinking there might be keys on her key chain that we can duplicate, right? Like for a safe-deposit box or storage unit. Did anyone ever see a birth certificate?”

  “Very astute, young man. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Charles smiled.

  “To answer your question, Dennis, no, we did not ask to see her birth certificate. We don’t ask for that when we interview. And, yes, Charles, I can be at the safe house bright and early. I assume this is a surprise visit and to not call ahead?” Nikki said.

  Charles nodded. “Where do you think you’ll take her to breakfast?”

  “There’s a pancake house not far from the safe house, right as you turn onto the boulevard.”

  Nikki directed her next question to Avery. “What time do you want to mug us?”

  “I think eight o’clock sounds good. I can have my people in place, and I’ll be close enough to the house that I can enter the moment you leave.” Avery looked up at Charles, and said, “I don’t need any instructions, Charles. The moment I’m finished, I’ll head right back here. Nikki, make sure she has your business card on her so we can return her purse to the firm, since the police will not be in possession of your purses. I think it will pass the sniff test. As it is, if she is hiding something, she isn’t going to want to have anything to do with the police. Pay attention to how she acts when she gives a statement to them.”

  “What if we’re wrong?” Ted asked.

  “Then no harm, no foul. Her handbag will be returned, and we move on to the other two names on the red folders. I’m going to leave now, since I have to call my people and get this all set up so it comes across as legitimate,” Avery responded.

  Charles looked around the room to see if anyone had any comments. Seeing no one who wanted to comment, he opened the folder that said Starry Knight on the cover. “The contents of this folder are thanks to Maggie. Avery did a quick background check, which pretty much duplicated Maggie’s research. I’m not sure how Starry Knight and her restaurant, the Daisy Wheel, enter the picture other than that the Chessmen claim they got food poisoning from her food, which was proven not to be the case by three different health inspectors.

  “Ms. Knight owns the Daisy Wheel. It’s one of the hot spots to dine in, in the District. The Daisy Wheel is considered a five-star establishment. Ms. Knight does all the cooking herself. She’s a bit of an outdated flower child and likes to dress accordingly. Neither Maggie nor Avery was able to pin down much on her background. There are no college records or even school records to be found. She never gives interviews to food magazines or to food critics. She also refuses to have her picture taken. It’s rumored that she screens the people who call for reservations. The waiting list is forever long. The Daisy Wheel only serves dinner. She charges outrageous prices, but people are willing to pay what she charges. She owns the building outright. Nine years ago, she paid cash when she purchased the building. By cash, I mean green money. Not a check of any kind. Avery’s people talked to the previous owner, who sold her the building. The owner’s name is Nathaniel Wannamaker. He currently resides in an assisted-living facility in Arlington, Virginia. His wife passed away last year. Mr. Wannamaker has good days and bad days. Avery’s investigator got him on one of his good days, and he remembered the woman who bought his building very well. Said she looked like a nymph, a spirit of some kind, and she had bundles of money in two shopping bags. He said he ate at the Daisy Wheel one time, and it was the best food he’d ever eaten in his whole life. And that’s all we have on Ms. Starry Knight.”

  “Do we know if Starry Knight plays chess?” Dennis asked. “I’m thinking about this because her last name is Knight. And do we know if the Speaker plays chess?” Dennis asked. “The four lawyers have names of the chess pieces. If you play chess, you know there are six names: Knight, King, Queen, Rook, Bishop, and Pawn. The only name we don’t have involved here is Pawn.”

  The others looked at Dennis like he’d suddenly sprouted a second head.

  “That is so clever of you, Dennis, to come up with that. I never would have put the names together. Very good thinking,” Alexis said approvingly.

  “We know that’s why the four attorneys are called the Chessmen. Because of their names. Starry Knight was never in the picture, and I think it’s just a coincidence that her last name is Knight. The word Pawn as a name has never come up anywhere that I am aware of,” Nikki said. “In fact, the morning after Jack got back from Philadelphia, Cyrus and I had a discussion about this very possibility, that all we were missing was someone named Pawn. But nothing I have seen since supports the idea.” The others agreed.

  “Just because the name never came up does not take it out of the realm of possibility,” Myra said at Dennis’s deflated expression. “Personally, I think Dennis is onto something here, whatever Cyrus thought about the idea, and we should not ignore it. And I do know something else. At least I think I do. Starry Knight does not play chess. Off the ladies’ room, there is a little private alcove with a chessboard all set up. Starry told Annie and me that the chess set is for the staff and a few favorite customers. Starry said she never had any interest in learning the game.”

  “What kind of name is Starry Knight?” Kathryn asked. “It sounds like a hooker’s name or, at the very least, the name of someone in the theater. Maybe she was a showgirl in her other life before she took up cooking. I don’t think that’s her real name. I just think she chose it to go with that getup she wears. A gimmick. And it worked for her. And why do we even care?”

  “I don’t know if we should care or not,” Annie said. “Myra and I are friends with her. Not true friends, the way we all are. We used to dine there a lot. Starry always saved a table for us. Sometimes she would sit at the table with us over dessert, and we got to know each other. One time she was lamenting that she had a problem, something with the zo
ning board, and Myra talked to some people she knew, and the problem went away. After that, we more or less went on a first-name basis. She’s a very pleasant lady, but if you look into her eyes, they are the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. They remain sad even when she smiles.”

  “So what does all that mean?” Nikki asked.

  “It means Starry Knight knows how to play chess and has sad eyes. It also means we leave no stone unturned, and we have Avery and Maggie dig up anything they can on Starry Knight, because I think young Dennis is onto something here. I just don’t know what that something is,” Annie said. “And I am not sure it has anything much to do with the game of chess. But I might be wrong about that, too. And if Mr. or Ms. Pawn shows up, then I will know that I am wrong.”

  Ted was already texting Maggie to get on it, and Fergus was texting Avery for the same reason, when Charles closed the red folder.

  “Anyone want to hear about Jeffrey Lambert? Nothing here, really, other than he is a stand-up guy. Devoted to his mother. Crazy in love with his wife, according to his fraternity brothers. That’s it in a nutshell. I say we adjourn for the evening and pick back up tomorrow after Nikki’s mugging,” Charles said as he stacked all the folders into a neat pile.

  Chairs were pushed back as the group prepared to leave the war room. Talking was at a minimum, with Dennis asking who was going to do the cleanup in the dining room.

  Harry turned, fixed his steely gaze on Dennis, and said, “Guess.”

  Dennis laughed. “I knew you were going to say that, Harry. Hey, I don’t mind, really I don’t. Because that means I get to take all the leftover pie home with me.”

  “Wiseass,” Ted said as his mouth started to water just from thinking of the pie he’d consumed earlier. “Listen, kid, if you want some brownie points with Maggie, cut her a wedge and I’ll take it to her.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Ted. I clean up, I get the pie.”

  “You know what, kid, you drive a hard bargain, but seeing a smile on Maggie’s face is going to be worth stacking the dishwasher. Don’t be chintzy when you cut that pie, either. Night, everyone,” Ted called out to the others as they stampeded through the kitchen door.

  * * *

  Nikki looked at the kitchen clock, then at the watch on her wrist, after which her gaze swiveled to Lizzie and to her husband. “As much as I would like to stay here and talk, I have a mugging to get to and possibly a pancake breakfast. Lizzie, thanks for coming. Let me know how the meeting with the Chessmen goes. Fly safe, my friend. And, Jack, make something good for dinner tonight. Cyrus is getting tired of the same old, same old.” She kissed and hugged both of them and was out the door within seconds.

  “That girl can move!” Lizzie said in awe.

  “Yes, she can. Listen, thanks for coming. You’re lookin’ good this morning, Lizzie. You are going to blow those guys’ socks off when you show up at their offices. I gotta ask, though, what is that sparkly stuff in your hair and eyebrows?”

  Lizzie laughed. “It’s a girly thing. I left some for Nikki. A girl has to pull out all the stops when she goes on the hunt. You know that, Jack.”

  Jack took a step back to admire his friend and colleague. As always, he was dumbfounded at Lizzie’s sheer beauty. If she was wearing makeup, it was hard to tell, not that he was a beauty expert, but he could recognize beauty. “You look like one of those models in the glossy magazines Nikki subscribes to.”

  Just for a moment, Jack let his mind travel back in time to a wet, snowy night when he found Lizzie at her fiancé’s grave, with a bunch of frozen violets in her hand. At that moment in time, he knew that the friend he loved and adored had gone to that place to die. He didn’t think twice; he scooped her up and took her home with him. And then he’d made her whole again. Secretly, he liked to think that he was responsible for all that she had become. Happily married, with a husband she idolized and a son she adored. He hoped she didn’t look back to those dark days.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Jack. I can always tell. Let’s not go there—the past is the past. I owe you my life, it’s that simple.”

  “Nah. I had nothing to do that night and was just wandering around.”

  “In a cemetery! In the snow, with almost freezing temperatures!” It was always the same comment and a way to get past the moment.

  Jack took one last look at what he and Nikki both called perfection when it came to describing Lizzie Fox. She was tall, an even six feet, with a mane of pure silver hair, which now glistened like diamonds in the snow. It curled to her shoulder, causing men as well as women to turn around for a second look. She was long-legged and still wore spike-heeled shoes, which brought her to an imposing six feet three inches in height. She carried herself regally. Today she wore a winter white suit that made her seem all of a piece, from her glorious hair to the tip of her custom-crafted shoes and one-of-a-kind handbag, which shrieked dollar signs. And she smelled so damn good, like the summer sun, an ocean breeze, and all things Lizzie Fox. Jack grinned. “Knock ’em dead, Lizzie.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot. Any advice, Jack?”

  “That was a trick question, right?” Jack laughed.

  “Actually, Jack, I’m serious. I’ve been in Vegas awhile now, so I am not up on the day-today legal goings-on here in town.”

  “Those guys never change, that’s pretty much a given. I’m thinking all you will have to do is stand there and smile. I’ve found out the hard way that sometimes the less you say, the better off you are.”

  “Funny you should say that. Cosmo says it all the time. Guess it’s gotta be true if my two favorite adult men in my life think the same way. Okay, I have to get moving. Thanks for your hospitality. See ya next time.”

  Cyrus, sensing this was Lizzie’s exit line, stirred and walked up to her and held out his paw. This, after all, was the mother of the son who now owned his offspring. He let loose with a soft woof.

  “I’ll pass it on to Cyrus Junior, big guy. He’s in good hands.” Another soft woof.

  And then she was gone.

  Jack looked around the empty, silent kitchen. It seemed like all the air, all the energy, all the electricity, went out of the room, along with Lizzie. “It’s okay, she’s coming back, I just don’t know when. Why don’t you go look at that picture she brought you of Cyrus Junior, while I figure out what to make for dinner? Nikki said you are tired of the same old, same old, so this is what I think. We pick up a rotisserie chicken and some salads on our way home from the BOLO Building. And a cake of some kind. We’ll put the chicken in the oven right before Nikki gets home, and she’ll think I roasted it. Works for me. How about you, Cyrus?”

  The huge shepherd turned and barked four times in rapid succession. Translation: Puh-leez! Do you really think she’s going to fall for that?

  “Yeah, guess you’re right. We did that last week, and she got wise to it right away. Okay, then we are having lamb chops. You get the bones!”

  Cyrus barked as he headed to his lair, where he kept all his treasures, especially the new one, his picture of his son, Cyrus Junior.

  Jack moved then, doing everything he had to do so he could spend the better part of the day at the BOLO Building. As he worked, his thoughts traveled to Nikki and the mugging that was probably taking place at that precise moment.

  Chapter 15

  Nikki Quinn walked up the flagstone path leading to the front door of the safe house, where Amy Jones Lambert was temporarily living. She was walking against the blustery wind, trying to shake off the bright golden and orange leaves that were swirling about the property because of the many trees that, compliments of the autumn wind, were shedding their leaves. She wondered now if perhaps she should have called ahead, but Lizzie had said no, it was better to take Amy by surprise. And that’s what Nikki was doing.

  The question now was, would Amy open the door, since she wouldn’t be expecting visitors? In the end, if she didn’t open the door, then a phone call would be in order. The doorbell was loud, jarri
ng, a tinny rendition of “When the Saints Come Marching In.” A grin stretched itself across Nikki’s face. She was marching in, but she was no saint. She waited. And waited. Then she jabbed at the bell twice more as she tapped out her new associate’s cell number.

  The door opened. Amy Jones Lambert stared at Nikki, a shocked expression on her face as she struggled for something to say. Nikki beat her to the punch, saying, “Get your jacket, I’m taking you to breakfast. I always take my new associates to breakfast before they start to work. This is your day. C’mon, snap to it, Amy. Time waits for no one, and I am starving. I’m taking you to the pancake house out on the boulevard.”

  “But . . . I just had . . . I’m not really . . . Coffee and juice, plus a vitamin, is . . .”

  “Not today. Today we are dining on pancakes. Hurry, or it will get too crowded, and then we’ll have to wait in line. I hate waiting in line for food.” Nikki’s eyes narrowed when she said, “Unless you are flat out refusing to have breakfast with me, which is not a good thing to do to your new boss. So, are you coming or not?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Just let me get my backpack and a jacket.”

  “No, no, no! No backpacks. Just your purse. This is a social event, not work-related. I shouldn’t even let you bring your cell phone. Absolutely no business of any kind is going to be transacted over breakfast.” This last was said with an edge of steel to Nikki’s tone.

  “It’s just that I never leave . . . I always carry . . . Okay, I get it. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Nikki counted off the seconds as Amy disappeared down a short hallway that Nikki knew led to the master bedroom. She’s suspicious. And wary. Not good. Nikki waited, her thoughts taking her to Lizzie and her soon-to-occur visit to the Chessmen, then back again to the mugging that would take place shortly.