17. Game Over

by Fern Michaels

  The use of his given name convinced Cosmo that Lizzie meant business. He hung his big head and nodded. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “Everything. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, juice, coffee, the works. Today we celebrate. Tomorrow I will start to eat healthy. Try not to use every pot and pan in the house, okay?”

  Cosmo’s laugh shook the house as he lumbered from the refrigerator to the stove and back to the table. “Are you going to have that test that will tell us if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “We have to discuss it, Cricket. That’s not a decision I want to make on my own. We have six months to decide.” Lizzie giggled then. “It’s not like we can give him or her back.”

  Cosmo was smiling like a lunatic as he rattled his pots and pans. The heady aroma of frying bacon spitting on the grill almost made Lizzie swoon. She was sooo hungry.

  “Anything else new in the nation’s capital?” Cosmo asked.

  “Hank Jellicoe is having an affair with the president. But something went awry this morning. Maggie and Ted are getting engaged. I’m saving the best for last. I’ll tell you all about it when we watch the sun come up. I love sitting out on the deck, all bundled up, with you. I think about it all the time, Cricket. I don’t know what I like most, watching the sun come up or watching the sun set. For some reason, watching the sun come up or set in Washington does nothing for me.”

  One eye on the grill and one eye on his wife, Cosmo said, “Who told you? I thought I could trust those guys. I needed input, Elizabeth. I wanted to do the right thing by you.”

  “The boys didn’t tell me. Somehow Maggie wormed it out of Ted, and she told me. Swore me to secrecy, of course. It really isn’t important, Cricket. You all did what you did for the right reasons.”

  “What about the house? Are you upset over that?”

  “What house?”

  “Crap! I just assumed they would have told you about that. I bought a house in Old Town in Alexandria. I had it gutted and redone. I didn’t decorate it, though,” he added hastily, a look of pure panic on his face. “We can sell it if you don’t like it. I need more space, more room to move around, Elizabeth. I don’t expect you to sell your little house. I know how much you love it. I want to always keep this one, too. I thought I would surprise you. The guys loved the house, but they all warned me not even to think about decorating. It has a fenced-in yard, Elizabeth. Beautifully landscaped. A really nice place, to my way of thinking, for raising a family. We could even get a dog or a cat. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “Well, it worked, honey. I am surprised. I like Old Town. Do you have any pictures you can show me?”

  “I have before and after. The contractor was good about that. It’s like a brand-new house in an old neighborhood. You know, the kind where there are big trees, green grass yards, and in the fall you rake the leaves and jump in them. We’ll have neighbors to be friendly with. We’ll be parents soon—God, how easy those words just rolled off my lips—so we’ll meet other parents.”

  “Do you think we’ll make good parents, Cricket?” Lizzie asked anxiously.

  “I know we will.”

  “So what do you think about Hank and the president?”

  “Is it serious? I got a memo yesterday that Hank will be in town the day after tomorrow. The casino owners have a proposition to present to him and asked me to sit in. I haven’t seen him in a while. Are you going to ask me to fish around for details on his romance?”

  “Cricket!” Lizzie said indignantly. “Of course.” She grinned.

  Cosmo laughed. “So Maggie and Ted are going to take the plunge. I’m happy for them.”

  “Well, I’m not sure about the plunge, but Ted did get a ring. No wedding date has been set. Maggie says she’s in no hurry. At first she said she was going to get artificial nails, because she’s a nail biter. You know, to show off the ring. Then she said she’s going to let her nails grow, and when they do grow and she gets her first manicure is when she’s going to okay that walk down the aisle. She hasn’t explained all of that yet to Ted. You aren’t getting it, are you, honey?”

  Cosmo stared at his wife as he tried to comprehend what she was saying. Finally, he said, “All you wanted was a pair of rhinestone cowgirl boots for someone else and a plain gold wedding band. Whatever.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’d rather talk about Hank.”

  Lizzie just laughed.

  A few days before the scheduled liberation of the pardons was to take place, Hank Jellicoe pulled his SUV to the curb in front of the Hoover Building just as Bert Navarro exited the Federal Bureau of Investigation and walked to the waiting SUV. He climbed in, and the truck shot away from the curb almost before the door was closed and the director could buckle up.

  “You want to share what this cloak-and-dagger is all about, Hank?”

  “Do you think you can wait for my pearls of wisdom until we have a big, juicy steak in front of us?”

  “I guess that’s your way of telling me you aren’t talking until you eat. How’s business?”

  “Ah, now, that’s something I can talk about. In a word, booming.”

  “Too many bad guys out there, eh?” Bert chuckled.

  “Being in the same business, guess you know they never slow down. You lock them up, and a new crop pops up without missing a beat. I wasn’t sure you’d agree to meet with me, since I just snagged three of your best agents.”

  “We both know money talks and bullshit walks. The Bureau can’t match the kind of money you pay your people. I understand the cost of college is going up. The economy sucks. Who can blame a guy, no matter how good he is, if he’s struggling to take care of his family and wants to make more money? It’s called taking care of business, Hank.”

  “So, no hard feelings, kid?”

  Kid? Compared to Jellicoe, maybe he was a kid. “No, Hank, no hard feelings. Where are we going?”

  “Benito’s. I got a voice mail last night from Benny himself, who said he got a shipment of Kobe beef, and a dozen steaks have my name on them. I’m a sharing kind of guy, so I thought to myself, who better to share them with than the director of the FBI?”

  Even the skimpiest of Kobe steaks at Benito’s started out at a thousand bucks, or so Bert had heard. Benito’s was definitely out of his league. “You are so full of shit, Hank, your eyes are turning brown.” Bert laughed.

  “Tell me that again after you sink your teeth into one of those steaks. Ah, we’re here! Loosen your belt so you don’t embarrass me when you start chowing down on that melt-in-your-mouth beef.”

  Bert climbed out of the SUV and looked around. There was absolutely nothing about Benito’s that might lead anyone to think he was going someplace special. There were no neon signs. The parking lot was run of the mill. Regulation. The front door was just a heavy-duty front door, with credit-card stickers, which alerted diners Benny took every credit card known to man.

  Inside, Bert looked around again. Again, nothing to make him think he was anywhere special. It was clean, though. And it had tablecloths, and they probably used cloth napkins. The tables and chairs were wood. The bar was small, with only eight stools. The mirrors sparkled. Polished wood floor. Windows that looked out over a courtyard barren of trees and shrubbery. He supposed the place could be called intimate, with only twelve tables, none occupied at the moment.

  A man appeared out of nowhere. Bert assumed it was Benny himself by the way he hugged Jellicoe and quickly ushered them to a table. Within seconds a bottle of Japanese beer was set in front of Hank. Benny was introduced, and the men shook hands. Bert winced at the man’s grip.

  “What’ll it be, Mr. Director?” Benny asked.

  “Tonic water,” said Bert.

  “That’s the only thing you get to order, Bert. You come here for steak, you get steak. Benny doesn’t mess around with medium rare, well done, or fried. He does it one way, and it’s his way. He’s been known to throw people out of here just for asking for something. You get a salad that no
one eats and a five-times baked potato. That’s all there is.”

  All Bert could think of to say was, “Uh-huh.”

  Hank cut right to the chase the moment Bert’s tonic water was set in front of him. “Listen, kid, I asked you here for two reasons, the first being to share the steak with you and to offer you a job. In case you don’t know this, things are coming to a boil. The vigilantes will have their presidential pardons in a matter of days.

  “I’m aware of your relationship with Kathryn Lucas. Once the women are cut loose, it isn’t going to be the picnic everyone thinks it is going to be. The moment the media picks up the scent of your relationship, you’re dead meat. That goes for Jack Emery, too. Someone is going to put two and two together and come up with four. I’m looking to retire, and I want to have you step in. I don’t expect you to give me your answer over this lunch, but I do want an answer by the end of the day. That means six o’clock. You’ll have to have your resignation ready to go if you accept my offer. When this lunch is over, I’m heading to Emery’s office to present an offer to him. Say something, kid.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Did I make sense? Did you understand what I said? More to the point, do you see the pitfalls that await you if you stay at the Bureau?”

  “Yes to all three questions. Why me? Why Emery? How…how certain are you that the president is going to pardon the girls?”

  “You’re good. I’ve followed your career. Elias Cummings, your predecessor, and I were great friends. Still are. He said I couldn’t do better than you. Emery for the same reason. Plus you’re all tied to the vigilantes. As to how certain I am that the president is going to pardon the vigilantes…I saw the pardons with my own eyes. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  Bert’s head was reeling. Jellicoe made sense. It all sounded right. He wished he knew what Jack was going to say. He wanted to call Kathryn so bad, he had to clench his fists so he wouldn’t pull his cell phone out of his pocket. “Where would I be based?”

  Hank finished his beer, held out the bottle. A fresh bottle was placed in his hand. Bert had yet to sample his tonic water.

  “Wherever you want to be based. The one place you don’t want to be is here in the District.”

  Bert’s mouth was so dry, he couldn’t swallow. He finally took a slug of the tonic water. “Salary?”

  “I know you know everything there is to know about my company. Tell me what you think you’re worth.”

  Bert squared his shoulders. “Five hundred thousand. Stock options. Unlimited expense account. Not to be abused. Thirty days’ sick leave, six weeks’ vacation. Moving fees.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Shit! I sold myself short, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, kid, you did, but to show you my heart’s in the right place, I’m not going to hold that against you. I was prepared to offer a cool million a year. It’s yours. You also get to use our chalet in Vail. We have a rather nice estate in Maui, which is yours to use anytime you can get away. We issue you a company car, and we pay all tax and insurance. And after a complete physical and drug test, we insure you for ten million dollars. You need to know there is going to be some extensive travel involved, but you and Emery, if he comes on board, can divvy that up to make it work for you both. And one last thing. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, can know about this. If Jack comes on board, then you and he can talk about it to your heart’s content. Are you with me on this?”

  Bert nodded once. He felt so light-headed, he thought he was going to pass out. He knew he should be saying something, but he didn’t know what to say.

  Huge platters, the kind wives served Thanksgiving turkeys on, arrived. Hank laughed at the expression on Bert’s face. “Think of this as a one-of-a-kind meal, just like the one-of-a-kind job I just offered.”

  Bert picked up the steak knife, which was as big as a butcher knife, and sliced into the steak in front of him. He sampled the succulent Kobe beef, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “I don’t have to wait till six o’clock. I accept your offer, Hank.” He laid down his fork. His right hand shot forward. Hank grasped it, and they shook heartily.

  “You made the right decision, kid. Welcome to Global Securities.”

  Chapter 19

  Hank Jellicoe kept one eye on his SUV, parked smack in front of the courthouse, and the other eye on the door from which he knew Jack Emery would emerge. He pulled the hood of his Windbreaker a little more snugly around his head to avoid getting wetter than he already was. If it wasn’t snowing, it was raining. Damn weatherman never got it right. Just that morning he’d predicted milder than normal temperatures, with no mention of rain.

  Jellicoe watched as yet another beat cop stopped at the SUV, looked at the impressive decal on the windshield. He looked around to see if he could pick out the owner as people rushed by. He shrugged and moved off. Jellicoe grunted something that could have been obscene and turned back to watching the door.

  Jack Emery finally emerged from the courthouse ten minutes later and after still another police inspection of the SUV.

  Jellicoe stepped forward and said, “Mr. Emery, Hank Jellicoe. I wonder if I might have a word with you. My vehicle is there at the curb. We can sit inside to get out of this pissy rain.”

  Jack blinked. He’d seen pictures of the man standing in front of him, heard about him via the girls and Charles. He nodded, followed Jellicoe to the SUV, and climbed inside. “You mind telling me what this is all about?”

  “That’s why I’m here. How about we head to the nearest watering hole, grab a beer or some hot coffee, and I’ll tell you all about it? You have to be anywhere in particular? I can drop you off.”

  “Just home, for another fun evening of watching television by my lonesome.” Then he remembered that Harry, Bert, Ted, and Espinosa were supposed to come over to watch a game on TV. Or was it poker night? He couldn’t remember. But that wasn’t until later. “Unless you want to give me a lift home. I was running late this morning, so I took a cab. I have both coffee and beer. I live—”

  “I know where you live. Georgetown it is.”

  They drove in silence, Jack marveling at the man’s driving expertise. Finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he said, “Are you just a man of few words, or are you contemplating something sinister here? What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t talk a lot unless the person I’m talking to is stupid. You don’t look stupid to me, Mr. Emery. Mind if I call you Jack?”

  “Hell, no. Call me whatever you want. I’d just like to know why I’m here in this spiffy set of wheels, which sort of, kind of reminds me of those Chevy Suburbans the president tools around in.”

  Jellicoe made a sound that could have been laughter. “Actually, this set of wheels has things in it those Suburbans don’t. And, to answer the second part of your question, life is sinister. It’s how you deal with it that takes the bad out of good.”

  “Is that supposed to be profound?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They drove for another ten minutes of silence before Jellicoe parked directly in front of Jack and Nikki’s house. “Out,” was all he said.

  “Hey, you can’t park here. They’ll tow you away in five minutes,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, I can park here. No one is going to tow me away. I can leave this baby here for ten days, and the guy parked across from me will be stuck for those ten days. You sure do talk a lot, Emery.”

  “Suit yourself, but when you leave my house, your wheels will be in the impound lot. This is Georgetown, Mr. Jellicoe. We don’t do shit like that here.”

  “You worry too much, Mr. Emery. Can we just get the hell in the house so I can dry out?”

  Jack shrugged, marched up the four steps to the front door, which had been replaced since that memorable night when Harry had kicked it in, opened it, and turned off the alarm. He turned the heat up and started a fire. “Coffee, beer, or me?” he quipped.

  “Coffee with a big slug of brandy. This is nice
,” Jellicoe said, looking around.

  “Yeah, it is, but it isn’t mine. Belongs to Nikki Quinn. She’s letting me stay here to keep it maintained. But I assume you already know that.”

  “I do. Let’s have our coffee here in front of the fire. I like cozy.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Jack said as he measured out coffee. He opened one cabinet after the other until he found the brandy bottle. “You look like a half-and-half kind of guy to me?” It was a question.

  Jellicoe nodded.

  “You want me to throw your clothes in the dryer? There’s a robe in the laundry room. Are your feet wet?”

  “Sounds like your mother knew my mother. If your feet are cold and wet, you’re gonna get sick. She had another little ditty,” Jellicoe called over his shoulder on the way to the laundry room. “Always wear your good underwear, in case you’re in an accident.”

  Jack guffawed as he watched the coffee drip into the pot. Suddenly he was liking this guy.

  Settled in front of the fire, Jellicoe got right to the point. “I’m here to offer you a job.” He leaned forward and gave Jack the same spiel he’d given Bert, adding only the information about the deal he had made with Bert.

  The only difference between Jack and Bert was that Jack’s eyes didn’t glaze over. He eyeballed Jellicoe and said, “How much?”

  Jellicoe laughed. “What do you think you’re worth? More than Navarro?”

  “A million should do it. Same perks you’re giving Bert, and he doesn’t get top billing. We’re equals, or it’s no deal.”

  “Done. You have to hand in your resignation by tomorrow morning at nine. Now, what should we talk about?”

  Jack started to laugh and couldn’t stop. He slid off his chair and rolled across the floor, choking and sputtering.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Jellicoe demanded.

  “I’m just realizing how professional you look in that silly-looking orange and brown bathrobe. And I can see your wee-wee.”

  “It’s your robe, you dumb cluck.”