Lethal Justice

by Fern Michaels

  Patsy ignored his pleading and walked away, then turned around and retraced her steps into the kitchen. “Go to the authorities and tell them the truth about Sara Whittier. I know you had something to do with that young woman going to prison. You and that…that…slut you’ve been sleeping with. Do you think I’m stupid, Roland? After Sara went to prison you suddenly had bushels of money. You bought vacation homes, you bought that Porsche. The bank accounts quadrupled. I am so glad I never spent a penny of that money but you wouldn’t know that, would you? I’ve been living off my salary, I’ve been supporting the kids and paying the mortgage on this house. That money you worship is evil money. That’s all I have to say.”

  Roland sat down in the breakfast nook. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting when he looked up to see Betty, Patsy’s part-time housekeeper. She put a cup of coffee in front of him. A blank expression on his face, he stared up at the woman. Yesterday, if he’d been asked to describe Betty, he wouldn’t have been able to do so. She had a plain, honest face that was now registering disapproval.

  Roland gulped at the scalding coffee. He burned his tongue but he barely noticed. He looked over at Betty who was emptying the dishwasher. “This is a nice kitchen, isn’t it? I like the brick and the green plants. Patsy has a good eye for decorating.”

  “Yes, she does, Mr. Sullivan.”

  Roland looked at the refrigerator where all kinds of magnets, notes and schedules covered just about every inch of the doors. His family was a busy family that he was no longer a part of. He felt like crying.

  Carrying his cup of coffee, Roland made his way up the stairs to the second floor. He passed his wife who was on the way down, her purse over her shoulder. “Be sure you’re out of here before the children get home. Take everything you need now, because I don’t want you coming back here unless you’re invited. I plan to change the locks later this afternoon. Take everything, Roland.”

  Everything meant he’d have to make at least a dozen trips unless he rented a U-Haul. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. First things first. He showered, shaved and dressed in casual clothes before he hauled out his suitcases. He had no idea he had so many clothes. Clothes that Patsy or Betty laundered, suits that Patsy took to the cleaners.

  Roland lost track of all the trips he made out to his car. He’d have to get a hotel room until he found a suitable apartment.

  When his car was packed to the top, he called the Marriott to engage a suite for an indefinite period of time. He made four trips before he finally settled into the suite decorated in bright orange, yellow and brown. He’d only be here to sleep so he would have to tolerate the decor until a suitable apartment could be found. Roland opened the mini bar and popped a bottle of Becks beer. He gulped at it, finishing it in three long gulps. He opened a second bottle. Now, he had to sit here and think about what had just happened to him and what, if anything, he was going to do about it.

  While Roland Sullivan contemplated his future, his wife Patsy was being escorted down the hall by an intern to US District Attorney Jack Emery’s office.

  Jack got up from his desk to walk around and shake hands with Mrs. Patricia Sullivan. He wondered if he knew this pleasant-looking lady because her name sounded familiar. Right now she looked frazzled.

  “What can I do for you, Mrs. Sullivan?”

  The woman played with her wedding ring, sliding it up and down over her knuckle. “I’m not sure, Mr. Emery. Maybe I should have gone to an attorney but I thought he might send me here so I…I decided to come here on my own. A while back, four years or so, a young lady—this young lady,” Patsy said pulling Sara Whittier’s picture out of her bag and handed it over to Jack, “was sent to prison for something I am almost certain she didn’t do. I hate that I’m here saying these things but I have my children to think of.”

  Jack looked down at the picture he was holding. Alexis Thorn stared up at him. His stomach immediately crunched into a hard knot. Son of a bitch.

  Patsy Sullivan continued. “I think my husband and his partner framed Sara Whittier and I think they’re going to do something else that…that is…sort of like that,” she finished lamely.

  Jack licked at his bottom lip. He hoped his voice didn’t give him away. “Do you have any proof? What makes you think…?”

  Patsy didn’t wait for him to finish. “First of all I want you to understand something, Mr. Emery. My husband and I are having serious marital problems. I insisted he move out of the house this morning. He’s been having an affair with his business partner. No, no, my coming here has nothing to do with their affair. I’ve accepted that and have tried to move on. Now, Roland and his partner are a hair away from securing the account of one of the richest women in the world. My husband was bragging this morning about how much money we would have. I can’t prove anything but I suspect the two of them are going to somehow scam this woman. I guess what I want to know is if there is a way your department can conduct some sort of investigation into…into whatever it is the two of them are doing. I would like to find Sara Whittier but I don’t know how to go about it. I thought you might have some advice for me. I know as sure as I am sitting here that the young lady did not do what she was accused of.

  “After Sara went to prison, my husband and his partner had money to burn. No one even questioned it. I did, though, for all the good it did me. Sara was…is a lovely person. She truly cared about her elderly clients. She was incredibly diligent. She would never cheat them the way my husband and his partner said she did.

  “Isn’t this matter something your office would investigate? Or, should I go to the police? I don’t know what to do, Mr. Emery.”

  Well, shit, he didn’t know what she should do either. “I can’t initiate an investigation unless I have more to go on than what you’re telling me. I need proof, Mrs. Sullivan.”

  Patsy stood up. She looked dejected. “I think I knew you were going to say that. I went to the police the last time and they didn’t do anything. None of them would believe me. Sara wouldn’t do what she was accused of. You have so many resources, Mr. Emery, can’t you find her for me? She might have proof. I suppose that’s an empty hope. If she had proof, she wouldn’t have gone to prison. I’m sorry I took up your time.”

  Jack literally leaped off his chair and raced toward the door where Patsy Sullivan was standing. “Look, I can’t promise anything. What I might, and I stress the word, might, be able to do is to make some inquiries on my own. Please, don’t get your hopes up. By the way, did you discuss this with your husband?”

  Patsy snorted. “I talked till I was breathless. He got extremely angry. Of course he denied every accusation I made. He said I didn’t know what I was talking about. This morning, after I told him to leave, I also told him to find Sara Whittier and make things right. Of course he ignored me.

  “Roland used to be a decent man. He was a good husband and a doting father. Then Arden Gillespie started to work at his firm. In very short order, Roland made her a partner. I don’t know if that was before or after the affair started. I blame her more than I blame him but he didn’t have to go down that road if he didn’t want to. By the way, do you know a good divorce lawyer?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Her name is Nicole Quinn. If you like, I can give her a call.”

  “I would appreciate it, Mr. Emery.”

  Jack watched as the woman’s eyes filled with tears. He patted her shoulder and again promised to do what he could on his own time. He asked for her home phone number. Patsy handed him a business card that said she was a special needs teacher. Her home phone, her cell phone, her email and fax numbers were listed on the card. Jack stuffed it in his pocket. It wasn’t until he got back to his desk that he realized Patsy Sullivan forgot to take the picture of Sara Whittier, a.k.a., Alexis Thorn with her.

  Jack looked at the clock on the wall. It was 10:50. He didn’t have to be in court till one o’clock. He could take an early lunch even though he wasn’t hungry. He needed to call Nikki to report what
had just happened and he didn’t want to call from the office.

  Outside in the bright spring sunshine, Jack whipped out his cell. Nikki picked up on the second ring. They made small talk but it was obvious to Jack that his lady love was still ticked off at him. He did his best to be light hearted and jovial even though he didn’t feel that way. “I called you for a reason, Nik. Tell me what, if anything you want me to do.” He repeated the conversation with Patsy Sullivan in precise detail. “She wants me to find Sara Whittier.”

  On the other end of the cell phone, Nikki Quinn’s mind raced. “What do you think, Jack? Do you think a meeting between Mrs. Sullivan and Alexis might help us?”

  “Jesus, Nikki, I don’t know. I thought you guys had a lock on this thing. Why risk rocking the boat with a meeting that isn’t going to solve anything? At least at the moment. My advice would be to leave it alone. I don’t see anything wrong with telling Alexis she has one person on the outside who believes in her. I think she might like to hear that.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Mrs. Sullivan asked me if I knew a good divorce lawyer. I recommended you. When it comes right down to it, she might not go through with it. The man is her children’s father. She did seem pretty determined, though.”

  “Thanks for the endorsement. I’ll let you know if she calls. I think you’re right and I will tell Alexis. You aren’t going to believe this but Kathryn said Virginia State Trust okayed that mega loan. Do you believe that?”

  “Hell no! I for one will never use that bank. By the way, how are your guests?”

  “My guests are fine. Charles gets home tonight. He’ll take over. For all I know, he might give them their walking papers. I did what I had to do, Jack.”

  “I know. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Love you, Jack. I mean it.”

  Jack’s voice turned flirty. “Bet you say that to all the guys who call you on your cell phone.”

  “Nah, only the ones whose names are Jack.”

  Jack laughed as he snapped his cell phone shut. Now, he was in the mood for some Dirty Dogs. He made a bet with himself that he could eat five of the fully loaded dogs and only burp once.

  Chapter 22

  The limousine glided to a smooth stop outside the guard house. Arthur, working the midnight shift, snapped to attention. “Mr. Martin, Mrs. de Silva said I was to open the gates for you no matter what the hour. You’re free to go up to the house.”

  Charles closed the back window. Anna de Silva laughed aloud. “I am so enjoying this cloak and dagger experience. However will we tell the man that I am the real Mrs. de Silva?”

  “Just say you had a face lift,” Charles quipped.

  “I’ve been thinking of getting one of those. Face lifts, I mean.”

  “Whatever for? You’re beautiful as you are. Never tamper with perfection, my dear.”

  Annie laughed again. “That’s something my husband would have said. Oh, Charles, I can’t believe I’m home again. It seems like a hundred years since I’ve been here. Do you think Myra will be up and waiting for us?”

  “I can personally guarantee it, Annie. I’m sure the others will be awake also. They can’t wait to meet you.”

  “But it’s three o’clock in the morning.”

  “So it is. Look, your house is lit from top to bottom. I think that answers your question. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find a lovely buffet all set up. The prodigal returns. That kind of thing.”

  Annie rolled down the window. She sighed happily. “It smells like home. It really does. Spring here is so different from Spain.” She sighed again. “I should have come back a long time ago.”

  Charles placed a hand on Annie’s arm. “You weren’t ready before. You’re the living proof that you can go home again. Ah, I just saw the back light go on. I can promise you on the count of five all my ladies will be waiting outside for you.”

  Before the limousine came to a full stop, Annie was out of the car and running to the back entrance. Myra, also running, met her half way. They hugged, laughed and cried and then it was Charles’s turn. “Oh, my darling, I missed you so,” Myra said kissing him soundly. “Come, come, it’s chilly out here.” Myra linked her arm with Charles’ as she made introductions all around.

  In the large kitchen with a fireplace big enough to roast a pig, Annie danced and twirled around, looking at everything, touching this and that, remembering when she lived here as a child. “I’m not going to sleep. I’m going to sit right here and wait for the sun to come up. Then I’m going to explore every inch of this place to test my memory. Oh, food, good! Myra, how can I ever thank you for shaking me loose from that Spartan existence I was living?”

  Myra, still holding Charles’s hand. smiled. “No thanks are necessary, Annie. That’s what friends are for. We should be thanking you for going along with this charade. Because of you, we’re actually going to make it work. Our pigeons are in the coop so to speak. Now, let’s sit down and eat this wonderful food the girls prepared for your arrival. I’ll bring you up to date as we munch along. But first, I need to speak with Charles so if you’ll excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Charles felt a prickle of alarm as his lady love led him into the dining room and closed the door behind her. “Charles, when I said our pigeons are in the coop, I wasn’t exactly truthful. Actually,” she said wringing her hands, “We have two extra pigeons. They…ah…just more or less flew into the coop. Nikki did what she had to do. She did tell me more or less after the fact, but I agreed. So did the others. I suppose we could have called you but what could you have done from Spain? Nikki had to act quickly.”

  “Dear girl, will you please just spit it out.”

  Myra did just that. “Now, we don’t know what to do. How long can we keep those two reporters incommunicado?”

  To Myra’s relief, Charles smiled. “Nikki did that, eh? Good for her. I’m glad she stepped up to the plate and acted as quickly as she did. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll grab a sandwich and some coffee and head out to the farm. I slept on the plane so I’m rested.” He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “But I’ll be back later.”

  “In that case, you may go,” Myra twinkled. “I missed you, Charles.”

  “Not half as much as I missed you, old girl.”

  Myra did a little eyebrow wiggling of her own. “Listen to them, Charles. Isn’t it wonderful to hear Annie laughing like that. I just know Kathryn is regaling her with all kinds of stories. It’s a good thing, isn’t it, Charles?”

  “Yes, it is a good thing. Annie has a reason to get up in the morning now. She told me on the flight over that she’s going to buy a whole bunch of dogs, cats and even a parrot.”

  In the kitchen, Myra made a sandwich and filled a thermos for Charles. Five minutes later, he was gone.

  Myra sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and a sandwich of her own. She looked around at the women who now filled her life. “Did you bring Annie up to date?”

  “Oh, Myra, they only got to the tip of the iceberg. They told me they had enough stories to last a week. Kathryn was just telling me about your road trip. She promised to take me on her next job. I can’t wait.”

  “Business first, Annie. Right now, we need you in the Sisterhood. Afterward, you can ride shotgun with Murphy. Now…”

  Nikki bolted upright, her eyes frantic. She listened to the quiet that surrounded her. What had woken her? She slipped out of bed and walked over to the window. The sky was clear, the moon almost full. Her gaze went to the garage. It was dark and quiet. That had to mean her guests were asleep. She turned around to see the rocker moving back and forth. “Barb?” she whispered.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did you wake me? Is something wrong?”

  “No. Charles is home. His car just arrived. See the headlights arching on the window. Relax, Nik.”

  “Easy for you to say. I just know he’s going to chew my head off. I have to go downstairs.”

  “Go ahead. It’s four in the morn
ing, you know.”

  “I know what time it is. Are you going to be here for a while?”

  “I’ll wait for you. Calm down, okay?”

  Nikki slipped into her robe and slippers. She raced down the stairs to the kitchen in time to see Charles rearming the security system. She allowed herself to be hugged and kissed on the cheek.

  Her voice was shaky, fearful, when she said, “Charles, I did something…”

  “I know all about it, dear. Myra told me when I dropped Annie off in Manassas. I would have done exactly the same thing. Thank you for stepping up to the plate the way you did. If you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did, we could be facing a disaster.”

  Nikki was so relieved she grew light headed. “What are we going to do with them, Charles? We can’t keep them over there forever.”

  “I’ll decide before it gets light out. It might be a good idea to invite myself for breakfast.” His eyes twinkled as he patted Nikki on the shoulder. “Right now, I’m going to take a shower and get out of this suit. Coffee would be nice when I come back down.”

  “I can do that, Charles. As Myra says, run along.”

  The moment Charles disappeared up the back staircase, Nikki took great gulping breaths before she started to make fresh coffee.

  “Told you it would be all right.”

  “You really get around, don’t you?”

  A tinkling laugh. “I’m everywhere. You’re on the edge, Nik. Relax. It’s all going to work out. As far as I know, Charles has never failed to make things come out right. Just trust him.”

  “I do but you have to admit, kidnapping two reporters is a bit over the top.”

  That same tinkling laugh again. “Not when you compare it to the alternative. I’m going to drop in on Mom and Annie. It will be nice to see her again.”

  “Barb, can you…ah…what I mean is, can you…see…feel…Annie’s family? How does all that work? Why don’t they speak to Annie?”