Cross Roads - Sisterhood book 18

by Fern Michaels

  “Voilà!” Charles said, throwing open the door to the dining room.

  “It’s like Thanksgiving!” Ted said. “I want a drumstick!”

  “Everything, just like Thanksgiving,” Yoko said. “We do have so much to be thankful for today.”

  “I wish the others were here,” Maggie said.

  “They are, dear, in spirit. See, Charles set places for them. Joseph is going to take some pictures and send them on to Bert and Jack,” Annie said. “We’re hoping when they see us all here at the farmhouse, they will put it together and get in touch somehow. That is, if the pictures make it through cyberspace.”

  Espinosa stood up behind his chair as Charles poured yet a second toast. He captured forever on film the sparkling glasses being held aloft, the smiles, the beautiful table setting, the succulent turkey, and the pups—who, fortuitously, had just escaped their pen.

  Myra said she thought that on this day, and during this particular dinner, she was the happiest she’d been since being granted her pardon. Her declaration was received with whoops of agreement from all those at the table. Underneath, the pups whined, demanding to be picked up. Little Lady and Grady picked them up, one by one, by the scruffs of the necks and returned them to their pen.

  The “Thanksgiving” meal progressed until the men loosened their belts and the women sighed with contentment, all professing they couldn’t eat another bite. Well, they finally conceded an hour later that maybe they could eat the pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream. Hazelnut coffee was served, and the meal was truly over.

  “I hope we can all be alert and not fall asleep when we do the video conference with Lizzie,” Maggie said.

  The dining room and kitchen were a beehive of activity as everyone fell into their old routine—I cook, you all clean up. One of many rules Charles had initiated early on.

  “You have no idea how I missed all of this,” Yoko said, motioning to everyone scurrying about. “We worked so well together. It was as if we could read each other’s minds.”

  “Don’t you dare start boo-hooing, Yoko,” Alexis said fiercely, a catch in her voice.

  Yoko sucked in her breath and smiled. “Is it time yet?”

  “It is now,” Charles said as he turned the dial on the dishwasher. “Follow me.”

  Their steps were light, their murmurings hushed as they followed Charles to the secret war room they’d utilized beneath the old farmhouse in the early days when they had all come together for the first time.

  “It seems like forever since we’ve been here,” Alexis said as she took her old seat at the huge, round table. “This,” she said, pointing to the chair on her left, “used to be Julia’s chair. It’s Annie’s chair now. Nikki sat there, Isabelle over there. Myra was the head chair, and Yoko is sitting where she always sat,” she said for the benefit of the others, even though they were all aware of the previous seating arrangements. She was babbling, and she knew it but was unable to stop herself. “It’s like we’ve come full circle somehow. And yet…I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a feeling not unlike what I felt the first time I stepped into this room. Back then, I knew that my life as I knew it was going to change and never be the same again. I feel that way right now. This might sound trite to all of you, but I feel like I, personally, am at a crossroads this very moment. Do…do any of you feel like that?”

  Every hand in the room shot in the air. Alexis sighed in relief.

  “Has anyone heard from Isabelle?” Maggie asked. Every head wagged back and forth.

  Myra stood up and cleared her throat. Her hands were steady on the table and not at the pearls at her throat. That fact alone told the others something serious was about to be discussed, and this meeting was not just about a video conference with Lizzie.

  “Charles, I want you to sit at the table with all of us. We have some things we need to share with you before we do the video conference. I suppose it’s possible you already know of our concerns and have not voiced them to us, and it is also possible we’re going to tell you things you don’t know, things that have just come to light that concern…our little family that really isn’t all that little anymore. I’m going to turn the floor over to Maggie now.”

  Maggie stood up the moment Myra sat down and started to talk. Only Charles appeared shocked, or as Annie later put it, stunned. Maggie wound down her report and motioned to the others at the table. “They’ve all tendered their resignations to Global, Charles. We’re having no luck reaching Bert, Jack, or Isabelle. If you know anything you haven’t shared, this might be a good time to speak up.”

  Charles’s arms flapped in the air. He looked genuinely shocked. “I think I would have…no, correct that to, I would have known something was going on if you’re right in your thinking. Snowden has always been on top of things, along with all my other people.”

  “With all due respect, Charles,” Ted said, “Jellicoe is so far up the food chain, your people are novices compared to him. That guy and his people seem to have a lock on the covert-security world. I’m talking worldwide, not just here in Alphabet City. Look at us! We’re the proof. And you didn’t know we quit until now. Admit it, and let’s move on here.” There was such a bite to Ted’s tone that, to everyone’s dismay, Charles flinched.

  Myra reached over and patted Charles’s hand. “It’s all right, dear. We just found out ourselves thanks to Annie’s return and Maggie’s keen instincts. We have to figure out what is going on, and more important, why it’s going on.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Espinosa, who usually observed rather than being vocal, spoke up. “Like Ted said, with all due respect, Charles, do you mind telling us what you’ve been doing for the past year and a half that you aren’t up on what’s going on? Or should we just assume that once the girls’ pardons came through, the world stopped on a dime.”

  Alexis scooted her chair a little closer to Espinosa’s. The move told the others that she was on his side and she, too, wanted an answer.

  “It’s a fair question, Joseph. And to a certain extent, you’re right. I did let the world stop in a way once the pardons came through. My personal life, which had been pretty much on hold, suddenly became active. I’ve been attempting to write my memoirs and taking care of…of my late son’s affairs. And, of course, seeing to the daily affairs here at the farm. I suppose that’s no excuse, but it’s the best I can offer at the moment. If any of you think that’s inadequate as an explanation, tell me.”

  “I see no reason to place blame anywhere. None of us became aware of this situation, and, in all honesty, we really didn’t even know for certain we had a situation, until a few days ago. It is entirely possible we’re all overreacting. Unlikely as it seems, I am trying to be the voice of reason here,” Annie said.

  Harry leaned forward. Like Espinosa, Harry was a man of few words, and when he did decide to speak, everyone paid attention. “If I’m not mistaken, aren’t you a personal friend of Hank Jellicoe’s?” Not waiting for a response, he said, “Can you get in touch with him? That would certainly take the edge off things.”

  “There are friends, Harry, then there are friends. I do know Hank, have known him for years and years. I know him well enough to visit unannounced, which I did a while back. Since that visit, I have not heard from him, but that in itself does not mean anything. Years go by sometimes, and we are not in touch with the exception of the proverbial Christmas card. The Hank Jellicoe I know and respect would never do anything wrong. The man is all about God and country and family. He reveres all three. He’s that rare man you want at your side in a crisis. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Call him, Charles,” Yoko said.

  Charles excused himself from the table and walked up the two steps to his workstation. He returned with his sat phone. All eyes were on him as he punched in Hank Jellicoe’s number. Those same eyes watched as he nibbled on his lower lip, and as one they knew he had reached Jellicoe’s voice mail. “Charlie, Hank. I need you to call me as soon as you get this
message.”

  Charles frowned. “That doesn’t have to mean anything. He could be indisposed. He could be out of range, although I think that’s unlikely. He could be on a plane and the phone is off. It could be anything. In the past he has always, and I want to stress always, returned my call within hours. I can call the farmhouse and see what his people tell me.”

  “I think you should do that, dear,” Myra said. Charles nodded, went back to his workstation, and returned with a number on a pad. He punched in the number and waited. “Charles Martin here, Mr. Wylie. I’m trying to locate Hank. I’ve left a message on his phone, but this is a bit of an emergency. I was wondering if you could reach him and have him return my call if that’s possible.”

  The call ended. “Mr. Wylie, Hank’s foreman and head of security at his farm, said that when he heard from Jellicoe, he would relay my message. That’s it. There is no one or anywhere else to call unless we try Avery Snowden to see what, if anything, he comes up with. I understand how all of you are feeling right now, but since you are all so edgy, I don’t see that we have anything to lose and possibly something to gain. A show of hands would be nice.” Every hand in the room shot upward. “Consider it done.”

  The conversation was curt and terse. “It might take a while, possibly a few hours. So, unless there is nothing else on our agenda, I think we should move on with our video conference with Lizzie.”

  “I think we should try Jack and Bert again. I’ve been texting Isabelle with no results. I don’t think any of us know how to reach Stu Franklin.” Maggie turned to Annie, and said, “What about Fish? Do you think he knows anything?”

  Annie’s voice was grim when she said, “If he does, he didn’t share it with me. Actually, I haven’t heard from him since I got here.” Her voice turned defensive when she said, “We don’t as a rule live in each other’s pockets—he has his life, and I have mine. We don’t…explain ourselves to each other.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, Annie,” Myra said comfortingly. “It’s how you remain an individual.” The others agreed.

  “So where is this all leading, or where does it leave us?” Alexis asked.

  “Right where we were when we entered this room,” Yoko said.

  Harry reared up and bellowed at the top of his lungs. Everyone froze. “I want to know where Jack and Bert are, and I goddamn well want to know NOW!”

  “Yeah, well, as much as you want to know where they are, that’s how much I want to know where Isabelle is!” Maggie bellowed in return.

  “Shouting and getting angry isn’t going to help us. We need cool heads right now, and we need a plan, a strategy, a map to help us out. Charles has taken the first step by calling Mr. Snowden. I’m confident nothing is going to come of Charles’s calls to Mr. Jellicoe’s home and to his private phone number. I believe it is safe to assume the man is not going to return Charles’s call, I think we are all in agreement on that. We’re on our own. And if it was Mr. Jellicoe’s intention back in the beginning to separate us, it didn’t work, now, did it? Four of us are here along with Maggie and the boys, and we all know something is wrong. Now, let’s try and figure out what it is. But let’s do the video conference with Lizzie first. We need her input, and we need her to get in touch with the president. After that, I think we’ll have a clearer picture of what we’re up against,” Myra said in her take-charge voice.

  “I’ll set things up,” Charles said.

  The room went silent while they waited for the huge screen in the room to come alive. All it took was eight minutes, and Lizzie’s beautiful face appeared on the screen. Five minutes of small talk ensued before Myra once again took charge. Lizzie listened attentively, and said, “I can make the call to the president’s private number. That doesn’t mean she will take the call. When she wants to talk to me, she calls in the middle of the night East Coast time. Even though we’re close personal friends, that is no guarantee she’s going to share details of her love life with me. I’ll do my best, but I cannot guarantee a return call.”

  “Have you heard from Jack, Bert, or Isabelle?” Maggie asked.

  “No. I’ve tried. I wanted to send pictures of Little Jack to Jack, but everything bounced back. When I call Bert, it goes to voice mail, and Isabelle is the same. I finally just gave up. Now that I think about it, it’s been since Thanksgiving last year. Are you telling me none of you have heard from them, either?”

  “None of us have heard a thing. As you can see, Ted, Espinosa, and Alexis are here. They resigned and are back at the paper. Yoko and Harry came back last week. Harry resigned, too. The boys need you to help them with their contracts and to make arrangements to return their sign-on bonuses, prorated of course,” Maggie said.

  “Where is Hank?” Lizzie asked.

  “That’s what we’d all like to know. As far as we can figure out, when he walked out of his offices the day the boys signed their contracts, he disappeared. That’s as much as we know, Lizzie,” Annie said.

  “You can call us anytime, dear. We’re all at the farm. How is Little Jack?” Myra asked.

  “Kind of fussy, he had an upper respiratory infection, but it’s almost cleared up. Now he just has gas.”

  The talk turned to babies and formulas until Charles held up his hand to indicate the conference was over. Good-byes rang loud and clear.

  “I have an idea,” Maggie said. “Let’s call the architectural board to see if Isabelle renewed her license and if they have a new address on file for her. Maybe we could get some snail mail to her since she doesn’t answer her phone. I wish I understood how they can jam all the phones like that. You’d think by now Bert and Jack would have realized what’s going on. The fact that none of us have heard from them is starting to worry me big-time.”

  “I’ve been worried for a long time,” Harry said so quietly, the others had to strain to hear his words. “Jack’s like my brother; Bert, too. Some way, somehow, they would have found a way to get in touch with me if something was wrong.”

  “What if that something is wrong on their end?” Annie said ominously.

  “Chamomile tea, dear,” Annie and Myra said at the same time. “Works every time.”

  Chapter 7

  Half a world away, Jack Emery, a murderous look on his face, walked into his designer office and kicked the chair from behind the desk. He felt mentally sore and bruised from fight number 986 with Nikki. He sat down and bellowed for his secretary to fetch him some coffee. When there was no response, he got up and walked out to her office. The door was closed and locked, which meant she hadn’t arrived yet, which in itself was a puzzle. Possibly even a cause for concern. Sari had never been late, never missed a day since he’d taken over the office. He checked the phone to be sure there was no message, but Sari had not called in. The back of his neck started to itch as he made his way to the designer kitchen that matched his office. Well, he knew how to make coffee, not that he’d done it in a while. There were a lot of things he hadn’t done in a while.

  While he waited for the coffee to drip, Jack made his way to the main computer room, where faxes and computers lined one whole wall. Here in this foreign land, Global Securities did not rely on the postal system. Everything was electronic, 24/7. Normally, Sari had everything precisely aligned on his desk by the time he got in in the morning.

  Jack looked down at his watch. Sari was thirty minutes late. The part-time help wasn’t due for another hour. With nothing else to do but wait for the coffee and think about his latest go-round with Nikki, he picked up the faxes and turned on the computer to check the e-mails. He scanned the e-mails briefly and printed them out, then added them to the stack of faxes. He carried them back to his desk, then made his way back to the kitchen for his coffee. He grew even more annoyed that there were no donuts or muffins. He’d been in such a huff when he left the house earlier, he hadn’t even thought to take along a piece of fruit. Christ, how he hated this place and everything in it.

  Jack stomped his way back to his office, spilling h
alf the coffee on the way. He looked down at the small puddles and muttered, “Like I give a good rat’s ass!”

  And thus began what Jack later described as his day of personal divine intervention, the day the good Lord saw fit to waken him to reality.

  As he sipped his less-than-perfect coffee, he scanned the faxes in front of him. At first he thought he was hallucinating. He rubbed his eyes, sucked in his breath, and looked down at what he was seeing. The words exploded out of his mouth like gunshots. “Son of a fucking bitch!”

  Jack spread the three sheets of paper across his desk. Resignations tendered by Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, and Harry Wong. He looked at the dates. Harry’s was more than a week old, which meant good old Harry was probably back in the States already. Ted’s and Espinosa’s were four days old, which meant they, too, were probably back in the States.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed to slits as he let his mind race. He wondered if he would ever have seen the resignations if Sari hadn’t been late that morning. Would she have filed them and not bothered to tell him? Probably, since the no-fraternization rules within Global Securities were strictly enforced. Early on in one of many briefings, he’d been told that no one ever left Global, because it was the perfect job. As one veteran put it, “You hired on, you signed your life away, you got paid five times what you were worth, and you died in the job.” When he’d told all of that to Nikki, she’d gone ballistic. She’d looked him square in the eye and said, “Jack, this is just temporary. If it’s long-term for you, I’m leaving now!” He’d been quick to agree to short-term. That was when all the trouble started. Newly married and starting out with that kind of baggage was pretty hard to handle. For both of them.

  Nikki’s parting words that morning before he’d slammed out of the opulent house were, “I can’t take this anymore. I want out of here!” He wanted to scream the same words back to her, but he couldn’t for some reason. He was committed to this goddamn job for another three and a half years.