Weekend Warriors

by Fern Michaels

  “In writing,” Nikki said.

  Jack lowered his head. “Do you know Marie Lewellen or any member of her family?”

  “No.”

  “Were you ever introduced to her or to any member of her family? Did you ever see Marie Lewellen and her family?”

  “No and no.”

  “Did you, on the night of January twenty-first, take Marie Lewellen and her family somewhere in your truck?”

  “No.”

  “Did anyone other than yourself drive your truck on the night of January twenty-first?”

  “No.”

  “Why were you at Myra Rutledge’s estate on the night of January twenty-first?”

  “I delivered bathroom fixtures. The storm got worse as I was unloading and I was tired. I asked Mrs. Rutledge if it was okay to sleep in my truck on the property and she said yes. She said I could sleep in the house but I had the dog and I knew he wouldn’t be comfortable in a strange place.”

  “Were there other cars there when you arrived?”

  “I don’t know. It was already dark. I didn’t pay attention.”

  “When you left the next day were there other cars there?”

  “Yes.”

  “One last question. Do you know where Marie Lewellen and her family are? Did you, perhaps, overhear people discussing her disappearance or hear other people say where she might be?”

  “No to both your questions.”

  “Is that your sworn statement then?”

  “Yes, that’s my sworn statement.”

  Jack pressed the Print button and waited for the form to slide out of the printer. “Read through it, let your attorney see it and if everything is in order, sign your name at the bottom.”

  Kathryn read through her statement and handed it to Nikki, who read it thoroughly. “It’s okay to sign it, Kathryn.”

  “Can I go?”

  “That was some stunt you pulled out there on the interstate,” Jack said cooly, his eyes on Nikki.

  Kathryn remained silent.

  “What stunt?” Nikki asked.

  “Her trucker friends blocked the interstate. They sandwiched the two police officers into a square. Said they had engine trouble.”

  “Anything’s possible,” Nikki said. “How much longer, Jack?”

  Jack looked at his watch. “They should be finishing up right now. As soon as the sweep team calls and tells me everything is okay, you’re free to go. Until that call comes in, you stay right here.”

  The call came in five minutes later. Both women watched Jack as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. He hung up and threw his pencil across the room. “They said,” he enunciated each word carefully, “the truck was clean as a whistle.”

  “I always vacuum it out after a run. I just dropped off a load of pine straw in North Carolina. No one wants to have you haul a load of produce in a dirty truck. In addition to that, I’m a neat, tidy person. Make whatever you want out of that, Mr. Emery. Is this the end of it?”

  “It’s the end of it, isn’t it Jack?” Nikki said coldly.

  “For now,” Jack said.

  “Let’s get some lunch, Kathryn. I know a nice outdoor café where Murphy can sit with us. It’s nice out today, so eating outside will be a treat. I’ll drive you to the impound lot when we’re finished.”

  Neither woman said good-bye.

  At the café, seated under a red-and-white-striped umbrella, Nikki leaned forward. Her eyes sparkled when she said, “Tell me everything and don’t leave out a word.”

  Kathryn talked nonstop for fifteen minutes. “When it was over, we drove away.”

  “Was it worth it, Kathryn? Do you feel vindicated?”

  “Oh, yes, Nikki. I’m glad Yoko asked Sid Lee about the others. If she hadn’t, I think I would have always wondered. What they did to me, they did to a lot of women. They won’t do it ever again, though. I don’t suppose anyone heard anything, you know, on the news or in the papers?”

  “Not that I know of,” Nikki said. “I don’t think it’s the kind of thing that will make the news unless they go public. Although, you never know. I can’t swear to it but I’ll bet you a dollar Charles is tuned into the L.A. Times. By the way, you did good back there.”

  “You know, I really would have taken a polygraph test if they wanted to give it.”

  “Just the fact that you said you were willing was enough for Jack. Those tests cost money and he really couldn’t justify it to his boss. Drink up, Kathryn,” Nikki said, holding her wineglass aloft.

  They smiled at each other, each busy with her own thoughts.

  “Nikki, do you know if Julia…”

  “She did it yesterday. She sent them Federal Express from New York. Alexis fixed her up and she drove up there, mailed them and then drove back. She sent them for a ten o’clock delivery. It’s two o’clock here on the East Coast and eleven on the West Coast.. I think they’re probably gazing at their jewels as we speak and wondering how it all went wrong.”

  Kathryn smiled and held her glass upward. “To the Sisterhood! Long may they reign!”

  On a balmy spring day just as the first spring flowers bloomed, the Sisterhood met for the second time at Myra Rutledge’s McLean estate.

  This time, however, the sisters were more vocal with one another, asking about each other’s lives and talking about the weather, social events and recipes. The mood was relaxed, not frightening like the first time. Nor was it exhilarating like they thought it would be. It was comfortable, each woman at ease and content in her own skin, knowing now their capabilities and using them to the fullest.

  Myra banged her gavel on the round table. “The second meeting of the Sisterhood will now come to order. Are all present and accounted for?”

  “Aye,” came the reply.

  “Then let’s get down to business. In the matter of Kathryn Lucas, was the project successful? Do we have any unfinished business in regard to the project?”

  “I think Jack Emery goes under the heading of unfinished business. At the present, I think it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie. If the dog should wake and bark, then we can decide what we want to do. I do have one thought where he is concerned. At some point, he’s going to remember the tunnels are under the house. Or, if he doesn’t remember on his own, someone might tell him about them. He knows Barbara and I used to play in them when we were children. He knows that because I told him several years ago. I apologize.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, dear. Six months ago, Charles had the part of the tunnel under the house closed off. Now it looks like the only entrance is from the barn. We used distressed wood and blew cobwebs all over the place. It doesn’t look like anyone has been down there for years and years. That particular branch of the tunnel leads to the Danberry farm. There are no blueprints other than those that belong to this family. I know the Danberry’s have a set of prints but they’re just for their branch of the tunnels. If Mr. Emery’s nose starts to twitch, we’ll deal with it then.”

  Myra looked around the table at the faces she now knew and adored. “I repeat, was the Kathryn Lucas project successful? How say you all?”

  “Aye,” came the reply.

  “Kathryn, do you feel avenged?”

  “Yes, I do. Thanks to all of you.”

  Myra banged the gavel a second time.

  “The Kathryn Lucas project is now closed and sealed. We will never speak of it again. Do we all agree?”

  “Aye,” came the reply.

  Myra banged her gavel a third time. “It’s time to choose our next case. Yoko, do the honors, please.”

  Yoko leaned over the table and reached into the shoebox. She withdrew a folded slip of paper and handed it to Myra.

  “Sisters, our next case is Alexis Thorne!”

  Epilogue

  Three days later

  “There’s something about an early morning breakfast on a terrace that is so special it defies words,” Julia Webster said. “Look and listen to all the birds. Se
e how pretty all the flowers are in the yard and here on the terrace. I just love beautiful things. I don’t mean material things, I mean nature things. Did I tell you all, I ordered a Night Train? My hus…the man I’m married to, said it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I corrected that statement and told him no, the stupidest thing I ever did was to marry him.”

  “Atta girl, Julia,” Kathryn said. Julia beamed.

  “What’s for breakfast?” Alexis queried.

  “Fresh melon, freshly squeezed orange juice and beignets A new shop opened in town and the baker is from New Orleans. Charles went to fetch us some. Oh, I hear his car now. We must remember to thank him, sisters. He does love doing things for us.” Myra sighed happily and smiled as Charles opened the small iron gate leading to the terrace.

  “Everyone close their eyes! I have a surprise for all of you!” Charles walked over to the table and placed the box of beignets in the center of the table. He then placed a copy of The Tattler in front of each woman, keeping one for himself. “You can open your eyes now!”

  “Oh myyyy Goddd!” the women said as one.

  “As you can see, this sleazy tabloid only mentions the men as Gentleman One, Two and Three. For privacy reasons, of course. The doctor all three men consulted had an assistant who spilled the story to The Tattler for fifty thousand dollars. She no longer works for the doctor, saying fifty big ones was a lot better than seven bucks an hour. That’s a direct quote, by the way.

  “She said, and this is another direct quote, One, Two and Three brought their…ah…bags with them and wanted to know if there was a way to…ah…reattach them. The contents, not the bags,” Charles guffawed. “They were told modern medicine hadn’t made any inroads in that department. The assistant also said the men were prominent businessmen, cycle enthusiasts, and two of them were married and one divorced.

  “The men told the physician that it happened on a motorcycle run for a charity benefit. All three of the men think some women on their way to a Harley-Davidson show drugged their drinks and did the dirty deed while they were knocked out. One of them recalls hearing a dog bark all night long. As the paper was going to press, no police reports had been filed.

  “By the way, the assistant moved to New York the day she received and cashed her check. She is now represented by the William Morris Agency.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Myra said.

  “Hot damn!” Alexis said.

  “No one said anything about my stitches. I do the best stitches in the business,” Julia grumbled. “And you were all worried they might bleed to death. When I sew ’em up, they’re sewed up.”

  “This is so exciting,” Yoko babbled. We did that!” she said, pointing to the paper in front of her.

  “Yes, we did,” Nikki smiled.

  Both of Kathryn’s fists shot in the air. “This is the first time I’m actually glad that modern medicine is lagging behind.”

  Isabelle burst out laughing and couldn’t stop. Charles thumped her on the back. “I’m sorry,” she continued to laugh. “I can just picture them walking into that doctor’s office with their nuts in those jars.”

  “No, no, Isabelle, I sent them in Ziploc bags in padded envelopes,” Julia said.

  “Like when you get goldfish at a pet store! Kathryn, you are truly vindicated,” Isabelle said, going off into peals of laughter again.

  Charles opened the box on the table. “Beignets, anyone?”

  Here is an excerpt from

  another Sisterhood book,

  VENDETTA,

  which is Myra’s story,

  now available from Zebra Books.

  Myra walked over to the kitchen door to peer outside. She eyed the temperature gauge and gasped. “Charles, it’s twenty-seven degrees! Good heavens! Do we have enough wood for all the fireplaces? We did have an oil delivery, didn’t we? We’re going to freeze down in the war room.”

  “Darling, relax. We have two full cords of wood. I carried several loads in earlier this afternoon. Oil was delivered three days ago. We are not going to freeze. Don’t you remember, dear, we had special heaters installed in the war room in early September?”

  “You’re right, I forgot. I am just so overwhelmed that I am finally…Never mind, it’s all I’ve been talking about today. Your ears must be sore by now. The girls are late, aren’t they?”

  “No, Myra, the girls are not late. We said seven and it’s only six-thirty. Please try and relax. Do you think they will like my dinner? I thought about doing something fancy and elegant but decided that, with the weather, the girls might like some comfort food. And I know how you like my pot roast.”

  “It smells wonderful, Charles. The potato pancakes are my favorite. We have both sour cream and apple sauce, right?”

  Charles wagged his wooden spoon in the air. “I have it all under control, right down to the wine, salad and dessert — and no, I did not forget Murphy.”

  “Oh, Charles, whatever would I do without you? Never mind, I don’t even want to think about that. They’re almost late.”

  “Almost doesn’t count, my dear.” Charles pointed to the security monitor positioned over the back door. “I think they’re here now. I see Kathryn’s rig in the lead. I think they wait at the end of the road so they can all arrive at the same time.”

  “I think so, too. One car is missing, Charles. The girls will want to know all about Julia.” Myra started to fret again. “It’s not going to be the same without her. The empty chair is going to…Oh, Charles, I feel like crying.”

  “There’s no time to cry, Myra. I hear Murphy barking. I think that means he’s glad to be back. Open the door, welcome our guests. We’ll talk about Julia later.”

  There were squeals of delight, backslapping, high-fives and hugs galore as the five women and Murphy raced into the kitchen. The jabbering was so high-pitched that Murphy went into the huge family room to lie by the fireplace.

  “Oh, I missed you all,” Isabelle said happily.

  Alexis dumped her red bag by the door and ran to Myra. She hugged her so hard, Myra squealed for mercy. Yoko, always subdued, clapped everyone on the back and then hugged them all. Kathryn ran around the counter to the kitchen window to see if Julia’s plant was still there. It was.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God, it has two new leaves! Hey, everyone, Julia’s plant has two new leaves! We have to move it, Myra. It’s too cold on the windowsill. See how the leaves are limp. Where can I put it? Yoko, you’re the plant expert, what should we do?”

  The women crowded around to stare at the plant Julia had left behind when she went to Switzerland, hoping to find a cure for her deadly disease. Myra looked stricken, as though she had somehow personally failed their missing sister.

  Yoko picked up the plant, stuck her finger in the soil and then touched the leaves. “Some light, a little warmer area and it will be fine,” she said.

  It was finally decided to place the little plant on a small folding table directly under the kitchen skylight. Everyone sighed with relief.

  “Any news about Julia?” Nikki asked as she filched a strip of bacon that was to go into the arugula salad. Charles pretended to swat her with his wooden spoon.

  “Julia is doing well,” Charles said. “She’s gained eight pounds in the last four months. She’s tolerating her meds and she misses us all terribly. She’s coming home for Thanksgiving, and again for Christmas, but then will go back for another six months. What that means is that she’s holding her own and she has not regressed or gotten worse. She’s happy. She reads, takes walks, rides her bicycle. Her stamina is better than it’s ever been. I spoke to her yesterday. She misses you all and she sends her love. She wants you to give Murphy a big hug for her. The first thing she asked about was the plant. To say she was overjoyed at the two new leaves would be putting it mildly.” This last comment was addressed to Kathryn, who was busily wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

  “Everything smells wonderful,” Nikki said as she carried candles and napkins into
the dining room. “Anything new these past few weeks?” she asked Myra.

  “Nothing, dear. Charles and I have just been rattling around out here all by ourselves. No one has called or stopped by. Is there any news on Jack?”

  “No. That’s why I thought…I assumed he would…. Damn, I don’t know what I thought or assumed. I check his and Mark’s new website daily. I have no clue what the two of them are doing. That could be good or it could be bad.”

  “I can’t believe Jack gave up his job as assistant district attorney, and I can’t believe his friend would give up his job as a federal agent just like that,” Isabelle said.

  “Well, he did.” Nikki clicked a lighter to light the scented candles. Within seconds the room smelled like blueberries.

  “Are we celebrating something special tonight?” Yoko asked.

  “Yes. The good news on Julia, your arrival and anything else we want to celebrate,” Myra said. “Goodness, how I’ve missed you all. But before I forget, Charles and I want to invite you all for Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s. Please say you will come.”

  “You bet,” Kathryn said.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alexis said.

  “I will be glad to attend,” Yoko said. “My husband will spend the day sleeping so he will not miss me.”

  Isabelle and Nikki smiled and nodded.

  “We go out to the woods and chop the tree down,” Myra said. “If it snows, we pull the tree on a sled, but if there’s no snow we pull it on a wagon. We cut all the evergreens the same day so they’ll be fresh. We haven’t really celebrated Christmas here at Pinewood for some years now. I think it’s time to get back to our traditions.”

  “Christmas here at Pinewood is a marvel. The house smells heavenly with all the balsam,” Nikki said. “The vaulted ceiling allows us to have a twenty-foot tree and balsam twined around the bannister going all the way to the second floor. Lots of red velvet bows and our own mistletoe. Myra always made it like a fairyland for Barbara and me. One year, Lu Chow, Myra’s gardener, played Santa. She thought we wouldn’t notice a Chinese Santa. We pretended not to for her sake.”