Trading Places

by Fern Michaels

  “Did I wake you, Sadie?”

  “Oh, no, Erwin, me and my cat were just sitting here waiting for you to call. Why are you bothering me at home? I don’t bother you at home, do I?”

  “No, you don’t. Look, I’m sorry. Take tomorrow off, sleep in.”

  “Why should I do that? Is that your way of telling me you’re interviewing someone to take my place?”

  “For God’s sake, Sadie, no. I was trying to be nice. I need to ask you something.”

  “Talk louder, Chief?”

  “I’m already screaming. Turn up your hearing aid and turn down the damn television. That cat of yours is going to go deaf. What was in the fax you wanted me to see and where is it?”

  “It’s somewhere on that pigsty of a desk of yours.”

  Shay clenched his teeth. “Just tell me what it said, Sadie.”

  “Anthony Papadopolus, Las Vegas’s notorious gambler, arrived in Atlanta today with assorted friends. More friends are expected. That’s what it said.”

  “The guy is here! Why? Where did it come from? Who sent it?”

  “I’m not the police chief, Erwin, you are. I’m just an old lady you want to fire. Figure it out yourself. He certainly is brazen to come here on your turf. Your fine officers managed to follow him, and you’ll never guess where he went, Chief. Then they lost him. That means he’s loose, and there’s a big game going on somewhere right under your nose. Can I hang up now?”

  “No, you cannot hang up now. Where did he go, Sadie?

  “You aren’t going to like this, Chief. He went to Aggie Jade’s house. In a big black limousine.”

  Son of a bitch! Sweat broke out on the chief’s forehead. “Sadie, are you sure about that?”

  “Of course I’m sure. That’s all the department was talking about all day long. I thought someone told you, and you were just ignoring it the way you sometimes ignore things,” Sadie sniped. “Can I hang up now?”

  “Yes, you can hang up now.”

  Erwin pawed through the stacks of paper on his desk until he found what he was looking for. He scratched around until he found his reading glasses. He perched them on his nose and started to read. When he finished, he mopped at his bald head. He wished he was a kid again so he could cry. His stomach churning, he stomped his way to the door and bellowed, “Mooney, get in here! You, too, Carpenter!

  “See this!” he said, wagging the fax under both detectives’ noses. “Your sloppy fellow officers lost this guy and his guests this afternoon. I want you to find him. Don’t come back until you know where he is. Move!”

  The chief stomped his way to the door a second time. “Finley, Gerrity, in my office! I want Aggie Jade’s house staked out, twenty-four/seven.” He looked down at the oversize watch on his beefy wrist—10:15. “Starting immediately.”

  Finley smirked. Gerrity grinned. “Pleasure, Chief.”

  Alice threw back her head and howled. Lizzie raced to the door but not before she parted the sheer curtains on the front window. Her sigh was loud, even to her ears. The girls were home. She watched as they tripped out of the car, laughing and motioning with their hands for the benefit of any neighbors who might be watching. They barreled through the door the moment it opened and collapsed on the foyer floor. All three started to hyperventilate to Alice’s distress. It was ten minutes past ten.

  Lizzie dropped to her knees in light-headed relief. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re fine. You did it. You’re back safe and sound. Sit up and take deep breaths. Did anyone follow you? Did you see anything suspicious?”

  All three women shook their heads as they struggled to sit up. Noreen spoke first. “If this is what life is like in the suburbs, I’ll take Vegas. Lizzie, you need to give some thought to your car being all torn up at that guy’s house. We did our best to wipe off our fingerprints. I sure hope we got them all. You said you told that cop your car was in the garage. How are you going to explain that when it shows up in Artie Bennigan’s garage?”

  How indeed. “I’ll think of something,” Lizzie mumbled.

  “Have you heard from Nathan?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe they sent him out of town,” Noreen said. “Or maybe the charge on his cell phone wore off. Don’t panic, Lizzie.”

  “Easier said then done. Let’s order a couple of pizzas.”

  “Sounds good to us. I want to take a shower and change my clothes. Here’s the stuff,” Noreen said, pointing to the box of latex gloves and the trash bags. “How are you going to get rid of it?”

  “I’m going to cut it up in little pieces and feed it into the garbage disposal. God, I don’t know how to thank you all. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  As one, they hugged her. “That’s what friends are for, baby,” Noreen whispered. “Hey, a fire might be good. It’s pretty raw and damp out there. Can you burn plastic?”

  “I don’t know. I never tried. Maybe a little bit. Go on, I’ll order the pizza.”

  Lizzie ordered two pizzas with the works and two six-packs of Bud Lite. While she waited for the delivery, she went into the laundry room, where there were no windows, and proceeded to cut up the latex gloves, the box they were packed in, and the trash bags. She had a neat pile when she was finished. Outside on the small back porch, she raided the last of the wood from the woodbox. Within minutes, she had a nice blaze going. She hoped she would remember to open the trapdoor on the floor of the fireplace in the morning to dispose of the ashes. She fed the fire, a little at a time. She watched as the latex and the strips from the trash bags curled into a hot mass. She jabbed at it with the poker.

  When the girls came down the steps, she pointed to the pile of plastic. “Feed it a little at a time in the disposal. Cut up some of the celery or maybe some potatoes to help it go down faster. If it doesn’t work, bring the rest in here and we’ll burn it. I hear a car. Keep poking at it. I gotta pay the pizza guy.”

  The delivery boy was the same one who had delivered to her before. He was wearing a wide grin when she opened the door. “Two pies, two six-packs. Fifty-five bucks. Lady, in case you don’t know it, there are two guys, two houses down, who are watching your house. I can smell a cop a mile away. I saw one of them walking away from your house when I turned the corner. He got in the car. I circled the block pretending I was lost.”

  Lizzie’s stomach started to churn. She struggled for nonchalance. “No kidding. Well, they’ll be bored watching me.” She paid him and tipped him twenty bucks. “Thanks for the info.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Hey girls, the cops are staking out the house. You made it back just in time. You didn’t see a parked car out there when you got home, did you?”

  “Nope. No cars were parked on the street.”

  “That’s the last of it. It all went down the drain, Lizzie. How are you doing?” Noreen called from the kitchen.

  “I’m done, too. I just want to wash my hands.”

  “Why are they staking you out, Lizzie?”

  “I think they might be getting ready to arrest me on some trumped-up charge. Cops have to be really careful when they arrest another cop. They stake you out for a few days, sometimes weeks, getting their ducks in a row, and then bam! If they don’t already have a warrant, they’re asking for one as we speak. With a warrant, they can bust in here anytime they feel like it. That’s when they read you your rights and you get to call a lawyer. Come on, let’s eat these pies before they get cold. By the way, I forgot to tell you, my day off is tomorrow. How lucky can one person be?”

  When the girls trooped up the steps after midnight, Lizzie opened the back door to let Alice out one last time. Alice looked at the swirling fog in the yard and refused to budge. Lizzie shrugged as she closed and locked the door. “Guess it’s papers by the back door for you tonight.”

  Lizzie knew she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, so she turned the television low and curled up in Aggie’s oversize chair, Alice half on and half off her lap.

  If she had one wish
right this moment, it would be to turn the clock back in time. Things were different now. Back in Vegas, she didn’t have a care in the world. She lived high, partied hard, performed her job, and banked her money. And, it was all legal.

  Everything she’d done since coming here was illegal. She didn’t need a lawyer to tell her they could arrest her. There would be no bail for her because she’d pose a flight risk. She’d be old and gray when she got out of jail. Aggie, too. Add the fact that she’d fallen in love to the mix, and she was down for the count.

  Well, by God, that isn’t going to happen. Not if I can help it. She wiped at her wet eyes just as the doorbell rang. Alice sat up, her ears straighter than arrows. Lizzie put her finger to her lips to motion for silence on the shepherd’s part. She slipped off the chair and went to the door where she slid the little door aside over the peephole. She fully expected to see one of the cops staking out the house. “Nathan!” She opened the door.

  When she looked up at him she felt the same heart-stopping emotion she’d felt when Billy Summers gave her her first kiss behind the bleachers at the stadium at the age of sixteen. She was about to throw her arms around him until she looked in his eyes. She backed up a step, motioning him to enter the room. “Isn’t it a little late for a visit?” was all she could think of to say. “Where were you all day, Nathan? I tried calling you at least twenty times.”

  “I work, Lizzie. I was on assignment. I did try calling you, but no one answers the phone in this house. I didn’t want to call you at the station. Then the battery on my cell phone went out. Aren’t you going to ask me what my assignment was? By the way, there are a couple of guys parked outside. They look like cops to me.”

  Lizzie blinked. Why was his voice so cold, so controlled? Why was he looking at her like she was a criminal? “It’s kind of late for guessing games, Nathan. I assume you came here for a reason. Let’s hear it.”

  “My assignment was going to the airport to meet Mr. Anthony Papadopolus of Las Vegas, Nevada. The paper wanted an interview. Mr. Papadopolus didn’t want to give me an interview, so I had to dog him all day. He checked into the Ritz-Carlton in Buckhead with his entourage. Then guess where he went. Right here to this house, Lizzie, where he sat on the porch with your friends. Then you came home, he hugged you, and you went inside. I didn’t get the interview. Is there anything you want to tell me, Lizzie?”

  “Actually, Nathan, there are a few things I want to tell you. I’d like you to go home and bring back all the files we worked on. I’ve decided to turn it all over to the chief in the morning. In addition, I spoke to Aggie, and she said we screwed up. She said we should rip the seats apart in Tom’s car, and hers as well, which we did. We found close to two hundred, yes, Nathan, two hundred, two-pound bags of either heroin or cocaine. We deposited it in the Salvation Army bin at the supermarket parking lot. Someone will turn it in to the police in the morning. At least I hope they will. You might want to think about getting those cars out of your friend’s garage somehow. Like immediately.”

  Nathan looked like he’d been hit hard on the side of the head as he struggled to absorb everything Lizzie said to him. “What did he want, Lizzie? Why did he need to take over the whole eighteenth floor of the Ritz?”

  “Get real, Nathan, how could I possibly know that? You must have a profile on him. He owns the Barb Wire chain of restaurants. I think there are twenty-two of them, with two here in Atlanta. I would assume he’s checking on them. He does that from time to time. He stopped by to say hello. I work for him, Nathan. He gives me health benefits and a 401k. I have a contract that says it’s all legal and aboveboard.”

  “In Nevada. Not here.”

  “So? Stop beating around the bush, Nathan. If you have something to say, say it. I need those files tonight.”

  “Lizzie, listen to me. We have it on good authority that your pal, your employer, runs gambling dens everywhere he has those restaurants. My ass, the guy is checking on his steak houses. They’re a front for his other activities. The feds are on to him. You set up a game with this guy, and you go down with him. It’s just what they’re waiting for. They’re just waiting to pounce on him. If they pounce on him, they’ll pounce on you. Why do you think those guys are staking out this house? Do you know what racketeering is, Lizzie?”

  “Of course I know what it is. I live in Vegas, remember.” They were closing in on her, and she knew it. Her heart started to race. “Did you drive here in the Beemer, Nathan?”

  Nathan looked at her with such disgust, Lizzie cringed. “I dropped it off and picked up my own car earlier today. Tell me what you’re going to do, Lizzie.”

  She didn’t mean to snipe at him, but she did it anyway. “Are you worried about your Pulitzer?”

  Nathan ignored the gibe. “I’m worried about you. Us.” She wanted to tell him there was no us. Instead she bit down on her tongue.

  “Please, Nathan, trust me. Just go home and bring back the files. There’s enough there for the chief to figure out the rest. I have to make copies. One set for you, one for the commissioner, one for me, and a set for my attorney. It’s late, so I would appreciate it if you’d go get those files now. By tomorrow, it will be too late. Then you have to get those cars out of your friend’s garage, and I can’t help you. Wear gloves, okay?”

  “Can we talk when I get back? Really talk.”

  “We’ll see, Nathan. Please hurry.”

  “It’s going to take me a while, Lizzie. The fog is pretty bad. It’s like soup out there. At least an hour and a half. I can make the copies if you want.” Lizzie nodded.

  He looked like he wanted to kiss her. She wanted him to, but instead, he turned around and left, the door closing softly behind him. Lizzie ran to the window and looked out. He was right, it was like soup out there.

  Lizzie debated all of five seconds before she changed from her slippers to her running shoes. “Stay, Alice.”

  Lizzie let herself out the back door, crossed the yard, and climbed the slippery fence. Climbing was easier than messing with the locked gate. She peered into the gloom as she tried to get her bearings. She was less than a mile, possibly a half mile from the Ritz-Carlton, which was on Peachtree Road N.E. Her eyes to the ground, she was able to tell where she was going. She huffed her way up the incline twenty minutes later to the drive. A doorman held the door for her. Inside, she waited till her breathing returned to normal before she headed for the elevator. She pressed 16 before she leaned back against the brass railing. When the elevator came to a stop, she got out to head for the EXIT sign and walked up two flights to the eighteenth floor.

  Lizzie stepped out into the hallway and was immediately surrounded by four men. They recognized her. “I need to see Mr. P. right away. Tell him it’s urgent.” One of the men sprinted to the end of the hall. He let himself into the suite. The door opened, and he motioned with his hand for the men to escort her back to the room.

  Inside, Lizzie took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you in private, Mr. P.” She felt pleased to see the alarm on the gambler’s face. That meant he would take whatever she said seriously. She wondered what her own face looked like. Papadopolus led her to the bedroom, where she started to talk. Her words ran together in her anxiety but the man standing across from her had no trouble understanding everything she said. “Will you do it, Mr. P.?”

  “For you, sweet cheeks, anything you ask. I appreciate your coming here. I’ll make the calls now. I have a coded mobile, so don’t look so worried. I can take it from here. You got enough money, kid?” Lizzie nodded. “What about your sister?” Lizzie nodded again. “Okay. You ever need anything, you know who to call.”

  Lizzie bit down on her lip as she nodded.

  “Look at me, kid. When it comes to you, I’m all talk. I never would have…if I ever had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like you. Go on, get out of here. You’re wasting time.”

  Lizzie turned at the door and ran back to give the gambler a hug. “Thanks, Mr. P. Take care.”

 
; Forty-five minutes later, Lizzie was back in the house with no one the wiser. She spent the next half hour changing her clothes, packing her backpack, and writing notes to the girls. Her eyes kept going to her watch and then to the clock over the refrigerator. Every few seconds she swiped at the tears forming in her eyes. “Come on, Nathan, come on,” she muttered over and over.

  At five minutes to three, she hauled out her cell phone and dialed her sister’s number. Aggie picked up on the third ring, her voice sleepy. “Now, Aggie. I’ll call you in an hour. Take Gus with you.”

  Lizzie popped a bottle of Diet Pepsi. When she looked up, Nathan was standing in the doorway. “Everything’s in the living room. I kept my copy. This one is for you. Since I’m such a neat freak, I bundled it all up for you. All you have to do is write a note and tape the box shut. I’m going to get rid of the cars, then I’m going home, Lizzie. I need some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning, and you and I are going to talk. I want to leave you with something to think about. I’m going to want your answer when I get back. Will you marry me, Lizzie? I’m not going to kiss you, because if I do, I’ll never leave.”