Life was good, Lizzie thought as she settled into her nest of colorful cushions.
Across town, Maggie flipped open her Rolodex and then looked at the clock. Four o’clock. She punched in the numbers and waited for Abner Tookus to pick up. He did on the fourth ring. “I thought you said you were taking my name out of your Rolodex” was all the computer hacker said by way of a greeting.
“I lied. Just the way you lied to me about working for Big Blue, and even then you lied some more, saying you were going on a honeymoon. You snookered me, Abby. I want my pound of flesh.”
“Call someone who’s fat and can afford to lose a pound or two. I don’t have any to spare. I’m working. That means I have no time to do anything for you.”
“You better find the time, and this one is for free. F-r-e-e! That job you have, the one that is paying you in eight figures? That’s all compliments of me. I can take it away just like…that,” Maggie said, snapping her fingers.
“Go ahead, take it away,” Tookus blustered. “I hate nine to five. I hate wearing a suit and tie. You want to fall back and regroup and call me again like in twenty years?”
“Nah! I’m going to come over to those plushy digs where you work and rip the skin right off your face. What I can’t decide is should I do it before or after I sic the Vigilantes on you. Now, if you’re really nice to me I’m going to forget you challenged me. Truce?”
“Truce. What do you want?”
Maggie’s voice turned syrupy sweet. “Not all that much. I want everything there is to get on one Baron Bell. I want it from the moment he came into being in his mother’s womb until this very minute, and then I want hourly updates.”
“You gotta be kidding me, Maggie. Mr. Squeaky Clean himself! Mr. Man of the Year! Mr. Personal Buddy of every power broker in Washington! That guy is the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus all rolled into one. He is beloved and cherished beyond belief. What’d the son of a bitch do to put him on your radar screen?”
“Just never you mind, Abner. At the moment Baron Bell is under my radar but rising to the top. That’s all you need to know. I want this by nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I do not care if you sleep or eat, is that clear? If you’re one minute late, you will find yourself skinless. Nice talking to you, sweetie.”
Maggie let loose with a deep sigh. She had no doubts at all that Abner would come through for her. But would he have anything worthwhile her friends on the mountain could use? Well, she was the master of spin, if she did say so herself.
Time to get ready to close up shop and head for the mountain with the others. She could hardly wait to sit down to a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings prepared by Charles. She smacked her lips in anticipation.
At least she wouldn’t be going empty-handed. Abby’s file would be her gift to the host. She laughed as she envisioned Charles’s expression when she handed it over.
Chapter 2
It was Thanksgiving eve, and the compound on Big Pine Mountain was quiet. The reason for the quietness 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 they got down to the mission at hand. He 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 was 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. He thought about his son he’d never gotten a chance to know as he puffed on his pipe. He knew 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, more 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. To never hear the sounds of laughter, never hear the wind rustling in the trees, never hear the birds chirping early in the morning. That was a bearable 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. Who 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 me 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 held 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 last, and to think you can only get them at this particular time of year. Amazing.”
Myra linked arms with Charles. “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 hoped it would be. Good friends breaking bread together and giving thanks together. Chef Charles accepted th
e accolades heaped on him with a gracious smile. 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 by 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 was served in the living room in front of a blazing fire that Elias and Bert maintained. Outside the snow continued to fall. Soft 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 to the mountain by Nellie from Myra’s farmhouse. 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 and 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. “Shh, 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 wrapped her arms around Charles and Myra without spilling a drop of champagne.
“She was here, wasn’t she?” Myra whispered.
“Oh, yeah, she was here.” Nikki smiled. “She approves.”
“I felt her right beside me,” Charles murmured.
“She was between us, wasn’t she, Nikki?”
“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 to “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 me. 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 occasions that you thought that guy in the Vegas casino was pretty hot. 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 for 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?”
“24/7. 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 righ
t, 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 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.
15. Vanishing Act Page 20