Crash And Burn

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by Fern Michaels


  Chapter 21

  Myra Rutledge frantically paced up and down the courtyard at Pinewood as the others looked on. “I don’t understand, at least one of us should have remembered that tomorrow is Halloween. How did this happen?”

  Everyone started to talk at once to defend their memories. The responses ranged from “We were rather busy, Myra” to “I was never big on Halloween” and then “It’s not like we were planning on having a costume party tomorrow night.”

  Charles saved the day and lightened Myra’s mood when he said, “We’ll be back here no later than midnight. I’ll spend the entire day tomorrow making pumpkin pies, carving pumpkins, and cooking a delicious dinner for all of you. Just to be clear on all of this, look over there under the sycamore tree. Do you not see eight very large pumpkins? Young Dennis dropped them off yesterday. Now, can we do one more run-through here to make sure we’re all on the same page?”

  “We have all our paperwork right here,” Abner said, waving a thick, bright blue accordion-pleated envelope, which looked like it must weigh at least fifty pounds. “In here, I have all four hundred twelve divorce files from the Chessmen’s firm. We were unable to locate nine of the wives, but we are not giving up. We will find them or their children. The checks to the women are already made out. The moment we get to the track, I will sweep the money out of the husbands’ accounts and into the account the checks are drawn on. No point in giving the gentlemen even a tiny edge. We are good in that respect.

  “I also have in this envelope checks from the Chessmen’s accounts. I took the liberty of ordering them and picked them up yesterday. I was amazed at how easy that was. And they have no clue. We agreed at last night’s meeting to give each wife and her family five million dollars. We also agreed to give each of them another five million dollars from the Chessmen.

  “Once we get the Chessmen to tell us what the verbal passwords to their accounts are, we do the checks, move the funds, and are in control of all that glorious money to do whatever we want with it. Husbands and lawyers will be reduced to paupers. That’s my end of things.”

  Jack spoke up next. “The nine buses carrying the wives just hit the highway. To make it easier on everyone, I had them all meet at a central location. It was a little tight scheduling so many people, but the wives were so excited, they made it work. If we leave in the next ten minutes, we’ll get there at least an hour before they do.”

  Avery Snowden spoke. “My people are already at the track. By now, they have incapacitated the six rent-a-cops who take care of the track when nothing is going on. They will have all five race cars lined up at the starting point, gassed up and ready to go. The trophy car, Rook’s prized possession, Mario Andretti’s winning vehicle, is front and center.

  “If the Chessmen run true to form, they should arrive at the track thirty minutes from now. They always travel in one car. As far as I know, Josh King will not be there. We’re still searching for him. He’s gone to ground, which leads me to think the man knew this day would come at some point and planned for it. His house is empty, and none of his neighbors know anything. He probably left under the veil of darkness. Bradford Holiday will also be attending and will drive himself there. I’m leaving now. If you need me, or if anything changes, call me on my cell.”

  “Starry is traveling with Maggie, Ted, and Espinosa. The guys are going in Dennis’s van. We girls are taking the Post van. All cell phones and the landlines are jammed. That means no calls in or out of the track compound. Ours will still work. The customers who were scheduled for this week were all notified that the weekend was canceled. Myra and Annie sent out refund checks, along with a small bonus to make up for their canceled weekend. They said there was no blowback, so we’re good there. We will, of course, reimburse both Annie and Myra, since they paid for the refunds out of their own money. Did I leave anything out?” Nikki asked.

  “I don’t think so, dear. We should leave now, unless there are questions.” When no one spoke, Myra made a motion to the waiting vehicles. “We’ll see you in two hours.”

  The Post van was the last to leave Pinewood, with Kathryn, who had returned to join the group two days ago, driving.

  “I have to say that I am enjoying this adrenaline rush,” Annie said. “I can’t wait to see the expression on those weasels’ faces.”

  “The best part will be that they are being taken down by a bunch of women,” Myra said, then giggled almost uncontrollably. The others turned to look at her and the expression on her face. Myra threw her hands in the air and laughed out loud. “I just love it when we come out on top. When do we get to dress up?”

  Yoko started to laugh and couldn’t stop. Isabelle had to pound her on the back. “The minute everything is in place. And you were worried about Halloween, Myra,” Alexis chastised. The girls broke into laughter as they settled back for the two-hour ride to the racetrack. During the ride, they talked of everything and nothing to relieve the tension, and then the conversation turned to Livinia and Amy.

  “I so wish that young woman was with us. She was the catalyst, the reason we’re here right now having this conversation,” Annie said.

  “Avery’s people will find her. If not today, then soon. As for Livinia, the next time I see her, I’m going to give her a good piece of my mind,” Myra said.

  “I think we should just shoot her and be done with it,” Annie said.

  “I know that in your other life, you were either Annie Oakley or a gunslinger. You want to shoot her and spend the rest of your life in prison, go for it,” Myra snapped as she fingered the pearls on her neck.

  “Like I would really go to prison! Seriously, Myra.”

  “Ladies, ladies, ladies, enough already. There will be no shooting, and no one is going to prison, but if that should happen, not to worry. We’ll spring you, Annie, right, girls!” Nikki laughed.

  “In a New York minute,” Alexis said.

  “We’re coming up to the mile marker. We’ll be there in another fifteen minutes. If you guys stretch your necks, you’ll be able to see a line of yellow buses behind us. Stay alert, everyone,” Kathryn said.

  While everyone was craning their necks to see the line of buses, the Chessmen and the Speaker were getting out of their car. Directly behind the Chessmen was Bradford Holiday, driving a Maybach and looking like a thundercloud. There were a hundred different places he’d rather be right now, but the ominous tone of his lawyers warned him to do as they asked. He hated the desolation. He also hated car racing, chess, and the survival camps that his lawyers doted on. He only had one true love, and it was money. He climbed out of the Maybach, straightened the jacket of his ten-thousand-dollar suit, jerked at his tie, and walked over to the four men waiting for him.

  “This had better be good, gentlemen. Every minute I’m here, I’m losing money. What’s going on?”

  “I was just going to ask you the same question. What are you doing here? You aren’t on the reservation list for this weekend,” Maxwell Queen said sourly as he looked around for his security staff, which always welcomed guests and carried their bags to the clubhouse.

  “What do you mean, what am I doing here? You invited me. Actually, the message demanded I be here, so here I am. One more time, what’s going on?”

  “I didn’t invite you,” Queen said. He looked at the others, all of whom shook their heads. “Then I guess it was Josh who must have taken matters into his own hands. Well, you’re here now, so let’s go inside.”

  “Where are the security guys?” Rook asked. Queen shrugged, and an uneasy feeling began to settle between his shoulders.

  “Hey, check out the track! Who moved my cars? What the hell!” Rook took off at a dead run toward the track and his prize possessions, which no one ever touched but him.

  He bit down on his lip before he turned around to stare at his colleagues. Then he noticed the silence and the absence of the staff. He felt the first prickle of fear on the back of his neck. “Someone . . . call the guards!” he bellowed.

>   “Seriously, Eli, this is your track. The staff members are your employees. You call them,” Leo Bishop snorted.

  “My phone’s not working. See if yours is working, Maxwell. Leo, is yours working?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “Holiday, check yours.”

  “No, no bars. Don’t you have a landline inside?”

  Rook was already sprinting toward the lodge. He fumbled with the key, opened the door, and ran to the office; the others were right behind him. He saw them all at once, a group of men standing in his office, watching him and the others.

  “We thought you’d never get here, boys. Welcome! Sorry we didn’t have time to get balloons and all those welcome signs you always see at parties. Well, we’re a hospitable group, and we’re your hosts for the day,” Jack said. “Sit! Oh, sorry about that—no chairs. That leaves the floor. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

  “Who the hell are you? What do you want? Are you planning on stealing my cars, is that it?” Rook roared. “This is my lodge, so don’t tell me to sit down!”

  “I did ask him nicely. Harry?”

  “You men should do what he says, or Harry will pull your brains out through your noses,” Dennis trilled.

  “What the hell!”

  “You already said that,” Harry said, marching over to the five men. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Actually, I do know who you are,” Leo Bishop said quietly. “Sit down, Eli. The rest of you do what he says. This guy is the number one martial arts expert in the world.” He sat down.

  “Well, I’m the biggest hedge-fund manager in the world,” Holiday blustered.

  “I really don’t care,” Harry said as he tweaked Eli Rook under the nose and eased him to the floor. “You want to be next, Mr. Hedge Fund guy?”

  “I’m not without influence . . . you . . . kickboxing lunatic. I’ll see that you lose your title.”

  Harry threw his hands in the air, then turned to Jack. “Tell me this dude isn’t serious.”

  “What can I tell you, Harry? Some guys . . . they just don’t get it. Take him out!”

  The others watched as Harry did a dazzling spiral, his foot lashing out and striking the hedge-fund guru in the neck. Bradford Holiday crumpled to the floor.

  “I think we have their attention now, Jack. Mr. Hedge Fund can get caught up when he wakes up. Or not,” Harry said in a singsong voice.

  Charles moved to the center of the crowded room. “I think it’s time we told you why we’re here and what we expect of you. We’re here to ruin you the way you ruined the lives of four hundred twelve women. We brought you here to make it right. And, of course, to punish you for what you did to them. That’s the first offense we are judging you on.

  “The second offense is the rape of a young girl some twenty-seven years ago. Her name, which you probably never even knew, was Layla Pyne. Young Layla bore a child from that rape. The child was adopted by Bradford and Pamela Holiday and given the name Emily Holiday. Mrs. Holiday died the year her adopted daughter entered college. She died from an overdose of alcohol and pills. Young Emily was left to fend for herself—thanks to all of you because your client said she was adopted, and he was done with her. Well, she isn’t done with him. When he wakes up, I expect you will tell him so. By the way, Emily Holiday changed her name to Amy and is now married to your son, Mr. Speaker. No, she is not now, nor was she ever, a gold digger. Any questions so far? Oh, my, when has a group of lawyers ever been rendered speechless?” Charles smiled.

  The door opened, and Avery poked his head in. “Your guests are here and are in the bleachers, waiting for the show to begin.”

  “Who is that man? What show? What do you think you’re pulling here?” Maxwell Queen roared.

  Harry advanced a step and waved his index finger. “If this finger goes up your nose, your brain will be in your lap.”

  “I told you! I told you!” Dennis shouted as he danced from one foot to the other.

  “All right, all right! What do you want?”

  “What I want is the verbal code so I can liberate your money. My colleague sitting at the desk with the computer is ready to dial the number right now. There is no upside for any of you not to tell me. So let’s get on with it, boys,” Harry said.

  “When pigs fly,” Queen snarled, spittle flying in all directions.

  Maggie inched her way over to the door and opened it. She motioned with her hand, and Starry Knight walked into the room. She was wearing her long-haired hippie wig, the crown of flowers, and her long-flowing white robe. She walked over and stood in front of the four men who had raped her so many long years ago. “All of them,” she said quietly. “The one I begged to help me is not here.”

  “That’s a goddamn lie,” Maxwell Queen roared, and the others seconded his response.

  Starry smiled. “Educated men like yourselves should know about DNA. These nice, kind, wonderful people will be taking a sample shortly. I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you for buying my property. The money got me to this point in time where I can stand in front of you and accuse you all of raping me. I still remember what you four were hooting and hollering about. Chess moves. I remember each and every one of them. It’s my turn now.”

  “The statute of limitations has passed. Even with DNA, it won’t matter,” Leo Bishop blustered. His partners backed him up.

  “You’re right. It doesn’t matter. Your life, as you know it, is now over. My daughter and I will live out our days spending and giving away all your money. I hope you all rot in hell for what you did to me.” With that, she turned on her heel and went back through the doorway.

  “You did good in there,” Maggie whispered to Starry, who was removing the wig and gown. “Are you okay?”

  “I am. I feel like I can suddenly breathe, like a thousand pounds has gone from my shoulders. I know they’re getting off, and that’s not okay, but I can live with it. I’ll be okay. I’m going to go out to the bleachers and talk to all those women. I want to tell them all my story.”

  “I’ll see you later, Starry,” Maggie said as she opened the door and walked back into the room.

  “Any progress?” she whispered to Ted. Ted shook his head.

  “Listen up, everyone, the temperature is dropping outside, and our guests are going to get cold. The girls want to see you all. They said all but Abner and me are to go out to the bleachers.”

  The exodus was silent. The minute the door closed, four men were on their feet. Bradford Holiday was struggling to come fully awake. They eyed Maggie and Abner warily as they headed for the door, but it opened before they reached it. Maggie clapped her hands over her mouth, so she wouldn’t laugh out loud. Abner did the same thing as seven black-clad figures entered the room. The only things to be seen were the whites of their eyes.

  “Ninjas!” Maggie squealed at the top of her lungs. The group of seven offered up sweeping bows. The men backed up one step, then another, as they stared in horror at the black-clad figures advancing on them.

  “I think they’re the Vigilantes!” Abner shouted. “They’re women! Look how they move, all graceful and . . . and . . .”

  “Lethal,” Maggie said.

  “Do something, Maxwell!” Leo Bishop shouted. “If they are the Vigilantes, then our hours are numbered. That woman is right—those women are lethal.”

  “What the hell do you want me to do? There is no chess move for a situation like this.”

  “Boo hoo, too bad, too sad,” Isabelle said behind her mask.

  Kathryn strode forward to stand directly in front of the five men. “Listen up, you degenerates. This is the way it’s going to go down. You saw Mr. Rook’s racing cars out there on the track, right? Well, we’re going to chain you to the back and race you down the track at a hundred miles an hour. Stark naked. Your skin will flay off the minute I step on the gas. Three minutes later, your racetrack will be full of bloody bits of flesh, and your brains will be flying all over. Six minutes later, it will be a boneyard out
there. Now, that was a promise. If you don’t want that to happen, give up the verbal codes. We’ll do it one by one. We ask only once. The minute you refuse, you will be stripped down and led out to the track to an audience of four hundred three women who are taking bets as to how long you last. Now close your eyes and visualize what I just told you.”

  “You’re not going to get away with this! You’re lunatics. I know important people! I’ll have you crucified. You’ll spend the rest of your life in a federal prison,” Holiday sneered.

  Kathryn laughed. “I know important people, too, and they’re all right here in this room. The part you are not getting is that you will never return to your lives, as you knew them. You will never again see your wives. The fact of the matter is, you will never leave this property on your own.

  “Oops, that’s not quite true, shame on me. If we drag your sorry asses down that track, and there’s nothing left of your persons, the morticians will have to scoop up your remains in a bucket. That’s the only way you leave here.”

  Nikki stepped forward. “We, the Vigilantes, pride ourselves on righting all wrongs that come to our attention. Now, having said that, in the interests of full disclosure, we need to inform you that we will be stealing, confiscating, appropriating all your money, then giving it away. We are going to make restitution to those you wronged.

  “Unfortunately, there is no way we can make restitution for the rape all of you, but one, are guilty of. Nor can we make up for what Mr. Holiday did when he cut off his adopted daughter, the daughter one of you perverts foisted on the young girl you raped.

  “What we can do, and will do, is spare your lives, but you will live the most miserable existence you can imagine for the rest of your days. You will wear rags, be barefoot, fight for morsels of food, and, in the end, probably kill each other. That’s the bad news. The good news is you’ll be alive, even though you will probably wish you were dead.

  “You, Rook, you’re first. March yourself up to my colleague, he’s the one with the computer, and tell him what he wants to know. If you’re fool enough that you can’t see your way to doing that, head for the door, and you will be taken out to the track.

 

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