8. Hide and Seek

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8. Hide and Seek Page 4

by Fern Michaels


  “And this all means…what?” Harry hissed as his plate of food was set in front of him.

  Jack picked up a knife that looked like a bowie knife and ripped through his steak. “How the hell did Lizzie Fox know where to find me? Yeah, yeah, she called my cell phone. I could be anywhere and pick up. It’s just too damn coincidental. I’ve been coming to this pub for ten or more years and I’ve never, ever seen a judge in here. This is working lawyers’ turf, where they come to cut loose, to vent, to gossip. It’s also a favorite hangout of reporters hoping for a morsel of something they can blow up into a page-1 byline.”

  “Speaking of reporters, I saw your old buddy Ted Robinson out front when we came in.”

  “And you’re just telling me this now! What the hell’s wrong with you, Harry?”

  “You told me never to mention his name to you. I’m not really up on all of this spy stuff like you are. You want me to waltz back in there and take him out for you?”

  “No, I do not want you to take him out for me. One of these days I’ll do it myself. He’s the main reason we’re in the shit we’re in right now. Was Spritzer with him? I think she’s the brains of that duo.”

  Harry looked at the chunk of steak on his fork. “I didn’t see her but I wasn’t looking for her. I just saw Ted out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think he saw us.”

  “Oh, he saw us all right. He doesn’t miss a trick. Do you think his being here is a coincidence?”

  Harry wiggled his fork around. “Jesus, Jack, I don’t have a clue. Is there a class or something I can take to get up to speed on all this crap? Or do I just hang out with you and hope for the best? You’re like a fucking magnet that draws this stuff to you. You should maybe think about changing your profession. Why aren’t Yoko and Nikki taking our calls?”

  Jack blinked at the change of conversation and tone. His mouth full, he simply shrugged. He looked down at the food on his plate and then pushed it away. He wished he had a dog so he could take his dinner home in a doggy bag. He looked over at Harry, who was mouthing words to him. He seemed to be saying, “Here she comes.” Who? Maggie Spritzer? He jerked upright when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

  “Mr. Emery, how nice to see you out for the evening. I always say you DAs work way too hard. You know Judge Stephens, don’t you?”

  Jack mumbled something as he struggled to slide out of the booth, then nodded and mumbled again. He shook hands with both judges and then jammed his hands in his pockets. He had never been more uncomfortable in his life.

  “This establishment is…quaint. I’ve never been here before. I’m told it is the only place in the whole District that allows smoking. Since Judge Stephens and I still indulge in that nasty habit we thought we would grab a bite before heading home. I found the food to be delicious. How about you?”

  “I agree, the food is very good.” He couldn’t help but notice the way Judge Easter was looking at his and Harry’s plates. “Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs,” he said.

  “You should have been here earlier. Lizzie Fox was here sitting across from us and cleaned her plate. And she has that smashing figure.”

  Jack shuffled from one foot to the other. Where the hell was this conversation going? Harry looked like he was in la-la land. Jack thought he was being brilliant when he said, “Sooner or later, every lawyer in town finds their way here. Very popular watering hole.”

  “Well, good night, Mr. Emery. I miss your entertaining ways in my courtroom.”

  Jack stood with his mouth open as he watched the two judges leave the back room to fight their way through the happy hour revelers.

  “This is probably a very dumb question, Jack, and I don’t even mind asking it of you, but was that judge talking to you in some kind of code? Is this how you people in the spy world communicate? Something is going on, isn’t it?”

  Jack sat back down in the booth and raised his hand to wave his empty beer bottle in the air. “That would be my guess, but I don’t have a clue as to what it could be. Maybe Ted and the judge being here on the same night is just what it seems, a coincidence. The call from Lizzie Fox tonight, and her eating here, another coincidence? No one knew we were coming here. This was a last-minute, spur-of-the-moment invitation on your part, right, Harry?”

  “Yep. Maybe we have a tail. A professional tail, the kind who blends into the scenery. Neither one of us is very observant these days.”

  Jack upended the new Heineken bottle that had just arrived. “Coincidence, my ass.”

  “Come on, Jack, let’s get out of here. Suddenly, I don’t trust this place.”

  “You know what, I think you might be right.” Jack shrugged into his jacket and picked up his briefcase. He waited until Harry dropped some bills on the table before he followed the martial arts expert out of the pub.

  Together, Harry and Jack weaved through the happy hour customers. His eyes narrowed to slits, Jack eyeballed the room for any sign of the reporter but found none. He offered up a shrug and followed Harry from the pub, his mind swirling, his heart heavy.

  Chapter 6

  Jack Emery awakened from his dream, then groaned aloud as he smashed down on the snooze button of his alarm. Damn, it felt like he’d just hit the pillow, but it was 5:45 AM. Time to get up and head for the gym for his hour workout. It was the only thing that was keeping him sane these days.

  Normally, he was a morning kind of guy—get up, shower, shave, eat a robust breakfast and slog his way to work—but since returning from Spain via Montana, his life had taken a 90-degree turn. And not for the better.

  It was 5:55 when he locked the door of Nikki’s house. It would always be Nikki’s house to him. He looked up and down the street. It was still dark, the sodium vapor lights glowing eerily on both sides of the street. At this time of day he was always alert, always watching to see who might step out of the shadows. Seeing nothing to alarm him, he jogged for a block to where he’d parked his car the night before on the skinny, overcrowded cobbled street.

  At 6:10 he slammed through the doors of the gym, his garment and duffel bags in tow. He went straight to the locker room, jammed his belongings into his locker and headed to the workout room. He didn’t bother to look around. He knew everyone, if not by name, then by what they were doing on their workout. He waved airily as he headed for the treadmill and got started. He was sweating profusely, his speed at 7.0 on an incline when he saw her. He almost lost his balance when Lizzie Fox waved to him and sauntered over.

  She looked good. Better than good. Actually, she looked good enough to eat. The sheen of perspiration on her high cheekbones made her face look like satin. He could see the strength in the muscles of her upper arms. The middle of her tank top was soaked with sweat. Lizzie Fox took exercising seriously. He wondered why he didn’t feel attracted to her. Actually, he knew the answer: he was a one-woman man and there was no one but Nikki for him.

  “You hung up on me last night,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Jack said, not missing a step on the treadmill.

  “That wasn’t very nice, Jack. I need to talk to you.”

  “Get off it, Lizzie. You and I have nothing to talk about. I have no clue where your clients are, but I think you know. I don’t even want to be seen talking to you. You’re bad for my reputation.”

  Lizzie’s incredible blue eyes sparked angrily. She looked like she was about to say something when a tall, handsome man appeared out of nowhere.

  Without the government-issued sunglasses, gold shield and power suit, Agent Bert Navarro could have been a power broker or just another health nut. Jack’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. Harry was right, something definitely was going on.

  “Jack, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Agent Navarro asked.

  “She’s not my friend. Lizzie Fox, this is Bert Navarro. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m not here to socialize. It’s too damn early in the morning to get pissed off. You’re both pissing me off.” Jack hopped off the treadmill and w
alked across the room to a rowing machine, mopping the sweat from his neck and face.

  Lizzie followed him. “Jack, I really need to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, Jack, she really needs to talk to you,” Navarro said coolly. “You should always listen to a lady when she says she really needs you.”

  Maybe it was Navarro’s tone, maybe it was the jittery way Lizzie sounded or maybe it was his own curiosity, but he turned around and asked, “What do I have to do to get rid of you? All right, all right, spit it out.”

  “Someone is trying to kill me, Jack.”

  Whatever he expected to hear, this wasn’t it. Jack’s gaze flashed to Navarro, who was eyeing him carefully. “So call a cop. Report it. Where do you get off thinking I’m your personal 911 outlet?”

  “Maybe you should listen, Jack,” Navarro said.

  “Aren’t you way off your beat, Bert? I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Go ruin someone else’s day, okay?”

  The rest of his workout was a lost cause so Jack headed for the locker room and the shower, Lizzie and Bert dogging his every step. When he reached the locker room and it looked like both Lizzie and Bert were going to follow him, he stopped in his tracks. “Enough already! What? I’ll listen to you for two minutes so talk fast.”

  “Someone’s trying to kill me,” Lizzie said.

  “You already said that. Do you mean someone besides me?” Jack asked flippantly. Then the words really dawned on him. “Okay, okay, let me shower and dress and I’ll meet you in the coffee shop downstairs. I have to be in court at eight so it will have to be quick. If that doesn’t work for you, I can spare some time around five o’clock. Well?”

  “I’ll see you in the coffee shop in fifteen minutes,” Lizzie said.

  As the door swung shut behind him, Jack took a second to realize he’d never before heard Lizzie sound anything less than calm and forceful. Maybe someone really was after her hide. Probably a jilted lover. Courthouse gossip was that she changed boyfriends like other people changed their underwear, which really was none of his business, anyway.

  The special cell phone in the pocket of his sweatpants started to vibrate. Jack’s heart soared. Nikki. Jack clicked it on and sighed so loud he lost his breath.

  “Jack. It’s me.”

  “I’m at the gym. Why haven’t you taken my calls lately?” he blurted angrily.

  “There’s a reason for everything. Things are…well, things are…Listen, I’ll call you later today. Will you be around?”

  “Well, hell, yes. I will be in court till four and then I have a couple of hours of paperwork. Is something wrong?”

  “Something is very wrong, Jack. I’ll call you later.”

  “Listen, I have something to tell you, too. I think it might be important. Nik? Nik, are you there? Ah, shit!” Jack shoved the cell phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants. He had to call Harry to see if he’d gotten a call, too. Just as soon as he showered and shaved. Lizzie Fox could wait.

  Twelve minutes later Jack was knotting his tie and trying to talk on his cell phone to Harry. “Nik just said something was wrong and she would call me later. Sorry you haven’t heard from Yoko, pal. Listen, come by the office around five. Right now Lizzie Fox and that Gold Shield Navarro are waiting for me in the coffee shop downstairs. Do me a favor and call Mark Lane and tell him to run a check on Lizzie Fox. She seems to think someone is trying to kill her.” Jack listened for a minute and grinned. “Yeah, I pretty much thought the same thing. Better yet, let’s meet at the Dirty Dog at six o’clock. That will give me a chance to play catch-up with some paperwork.”

  “Six it is,” Harry said.

  Jack looked around to make sure he had all his gear before he slung his empty garment bag over his shoulder. He took the elevator to the lobby where he fought his way through the crowds of health nuts trying to race to the gym to get in a few laps before going to jobs where they sat around all day.

  The coffee shop was a joke. It served everything but coffee. Oh, they served something that looked like coffee but tasted like burned popcorn. Juice, tofu, sprouts and carrot juice were the heavy hitters. Bran muffins that ripped your stomach apart were piled up on the counter. In another hour they would be all gone. Navarro and Lizzie were each picking at one of those muffins and had a glass of something that was a shitty green in color.

  Jack sat down and said, “Well? By the way, Navarro, what the hell are you doing here, or does this concern you in some way?”

  “It’s too early in the morning to be so testy, Jack. I just happened by this morning and you introduced me to this lovely lady. She invited me to have coffee with her. I’ll not cramp your style.” He got up, waved airily and was gone.

  Jack studied the young lawyer. She was dressed for the day in a formfitting navy blue suit with a white blouse. Her blond hair was piled high on her head, every hair in place, adding another inch to her already six-foot stature. She was perfectly made up or else she had flawless skin and didn’t need makeup. Either way, she was beautiful. And she’d accomplished it all in under fifteen minutes. Her legs were crossed, the short, tight skirt hiking up to midthigh. Jack looked but wasn’t enticed. “I’m waiting, Lizzie,” he said irritably.

  “Look, Jack, I know your history with Nikki. I’m sorry things went to hell for you both. Don’t take it out on me. I was doing my job and you were doing yours. Let’s have a little mutual respect here, okay?”

  “You’re a good lawyer, Lizzie, I’ll give you that. Who is trying to kill you?”

  Lizzie squirmed in her seat, her skirt hiking farther up her legs. “I might have…uh…exaggerated a little in that regard. Although I know someone is following me. Hell, maybe stalking me. It’s not my imagination.”

  “And you’re telling me this…why? Go to the police, file a report. Hire a private detective or get yourself a bodyguard. Why come to me?”

  Lizzie stared off into the distance. “Because you’re one of them, Jack. Don’t bother to deny it. I’m not stupid and neither are you.”

  Jack was glad he hadn’t had breakfast because he would have lost it at that moment. He wondered if he could bluff his way through the rest of this meeting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just pissed that your clients bailed on you. Not good for the Silver Fox image. Lawyers are supposed to control their clients. You failed to do that and the Sisterhood escaped, leaving you to deal with it. Rumors are you aided and abetted it all. Like I said, Lizzie, not good for your image. Hell, you could even lose money on the deal, right? No one wants a lawyer they can’t trust.” He hoped he sounded properly outraged. Because you’re one of them. His stomach did a hop, skip and a jump. He had to get out of here right now before he gave it all away.

  “Spare me the sermon, Jack, and listen to what I’m saying. I know you’re one of them. I want to…I want to…join up. I’ve been doing my homework. I might have opened some cans of worms that would have been better off left unopened. I also suspect, and I can’t quite prove it yet, that Judge Easter belongs to your select little group. Now we both know I’m especially smart and intuitive, but there are people who are dogging me. I’m one hundred percent sure that I am being followed. I’ve had a couple of things happen that could be simple accidents or someone trying to…do me harm. I deliberately didn’t go to the police because I want to…protect my clients. They’re still my clients, Jack. Don’t insult me now by trying to con me. I want to help. I want you to trust me. I took a big chance coming here today to talk to you, just so you know.”

  Jack reached for his bags, his head swimming with what he was hearing. He dug deep to come up with a response that would get him out of there. “Counselor, when you get your book deal and the money’s in the bank, call me. That’s what this is all about, right? Screw you, Lizzie.” Judge Easter was one of them. Where in the damn hell was she coming up with this stuff?

  “Jack! Wait, Jack!”

  Jack literally ran out of the coffee shop and out the door to the stre
et. He jogged to his office and didn’t take a deep breath until he was sitting in his office chair. He had twenty minutes to get himself together before he had to head for court.

  “Son of a fucking bitch!”

  Chapter 7

  Thunder rolled across the mountain in sonic blasts as torrents of rain sluiced down over the ancient monastery. Age-old trees swayed in the vicious wind as bolt after bolt of ugly lightning ripped across the dark sky. The members of the Sisterhood cowered in the kitchen, their eyes glued to the water dripping into the twelve-cup coffeepot. A jug of fifty-year-old homemade brandy, compliments of the padre at the foot of the mountain, was just waiting to be poured into the exquisite china cups.

  Myra paced the confines of the kitchen; the clicking of her heels on the old brick floor sounded ominous. “The first night we all met, the weather was like this. Charles and I were so sure none of you would be able to make the journey out to the farm and then there you were, Kathryn plowing down the gates with her big truck. Then the power went out. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night.” The others nodded as they clustered close together.

  “That was the beginning of something for all of us. Now, here we are facing the same sort of obstacles again. Only this time they are much more serious. Do any of you think this is an omen of some kind?” None of the women responded. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Myra said.

  Isabelle reached for the coffeepot as Alexis poured brandy into the waiting cups.

  “Where’s Charles?” Nikki’s voice dripped ice.

  “Where he always is at this time of the day, in the command center,” Yoko said, her voice as icy as Nikki’s.

  It was obvious to everyone in the room that neither woman had forgiven Charles for sending Jack and Harry back to the States. This frigid state of affairs had been going on for some time now, unnerving all the women.

 

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