Deja Vu

by Fern Michaels

  “This thing sure did grow legs at the speed of light. Jellicoe must be having a shit fit inside that house as he tries to figure out if this is a setup or not,” Jack said, his gaze going in all directions. “That bastard might try to go out the back if he gets spooked. That’s what’s worrying me right now.”

  “Relax, Jack. It ain’t gonna happen. This thing is too big, too organized for him to think we could pull this off in just a matter of days. You know how he is with strategy, details, and setting up parameters and flanks and all that shit. He’s staying put,” Ted insisted.

  Jack looked at his watch again, then over at the girls, who were wandering around like they had nothing on their minds, their floppy red hats shielding their faces, their flowing purple dresses sweeping the ground. Jack whistled sharply and held up two fingers. “Get in place!”

  The sound of a bullhorn, then the sharp blast of an air horn shattered the noisy Sunday afternoon. The high school band made some off-key noises, then swung into their own rendition of “Pretty Woman” as the Red Hatters fell in line and started marching to the beat of the music.

  It was a blinding sea of red and purple as the ladies smiled and waved as cameras clicked and video was shot, making it impossible to carry on a conversation. So Jack used hand signals to get everyone in place.

  “What if he tries to go out the front door?” Espinosa asked.

  Jack pointed to Harry, who was on his belly snaking his way along the side of the house. If the door opened, all he had to do was lunge for Jellicoe’s ankles and bring him to the ground.

  The Sisters crept forward, single file, Bert, Jack, Ted, and Espinosa off to the side. It was Bert who was to kick down the door so the others could rush inside. They’d rehearsed this move so many times back at Pinewood, Bert felt he could do it in his sleep.

  With the door being six small panes of glass on the top and less-than-sturdy wood on the bottom, he knew the weakest point and kicked with all of his 220 pounds. The door shattered, and the Sisters rushed in, Yoko in the lead. She was the air as she literally breezed through the house and nailed Jellicoe just as he was approaching the kicked-in front door. She whirled and kicked it shut a nanosecond after Harry barreled through.

  They were on him like a swarm of locusts, each of them taking out eighteen months of their hatred and vengeance on the man who, they believed, had ruined their lives. The boys could only watch in horror and thank God they weren’t the recipient of the Sisters’ vengeance. When they were done, Henry, call me Hank, Jellicoe was a bloody mess. To his credit, he hadn’t made a sound during the ugly beating. His teeth were scattered everywhere, one ear was hanging by a thin strip of skin. His face was a bloody pulp, his eyes swollen shut. Blood dripped from every part of his body.

  Jack kicked at the figure on the floor. “But you girls promised to leave something for us to work over. There’s nothing left.”

  “We lied, Jack,” Nikki said. “This was our fight. It’s over now. Alexis, where’s the duct tape?”

  “Right here,” Alexis responded, and she pulled several rolls from her bright red bag and tossed one after the other in Nikki’s direction.

  “Work it, Kathryn. Ankles, knees, and don’t forget his dick. If you have to, twist that sucker right off,” Nikki shouted. “Come on, come on, we need to move faster. Yoko, where’s the dress? Get it out and put it on him. Who has the hat? Someone start up that damn car out there! Move, people!”

  Jack and Harry moved closer to each other. Safety in numbers, as the loves of their lives did what no one else could do. Harry’s eyes shone with admiration. Jack had to admit he felt a thrill of excitement. He did love a forceful woman.

  Annie raced through the broken kitchen door and out to the carport, where she raised the doors that closed in the front of the carport, then hopped in the car. No keys! She raced back inside. “No keys!” The high school band swung into a blaring version that almost sounded like “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.” She supposed they’d earned the new band uniforms.

  “Bert, we don’t have time to look for them. Hot-wire it,” Jack bellowed.

  Bert raced out of the house.

  “Has he said anything?” Myra asked as she looked down at her bloody hands.

  “I think Kathryn might have smashed his windpipe when she swung her arm. No, Myra, he hasn’t said a single thing,” Yoko gurgled with happiness.

  “Who has the diary?”

  “It’s in my bag,” Alexis said.

  “Hey, he’s good to go then!” Nikki said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  They moved like clockwork, the way they always did when they were on a mission.

  “No fingerprints to tie us here!” Annie shouted.

  The girls as one held up their latex-glove-covered hands.

  “You know what to do. We’ll meet you there. The road is clear. We did good, girls!” Myra said.

  Their destination: the headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington, D.C.

  The entire crew arrived, to no fanfare, on a Sunday afternoon. Once again, they worked in sync, the Sisters calling out instructions, the boys doing their bidding. It was Bert who called in to headquarters and asked for Director Yantzy. When he came on the phone, Bert said, “Director, someone delivered a package to me and asked me to deliver it to you. It’s waiting for you out front. Come and get it. You can thank me later.”

  The Sisters stood on the periphery and watched as Jack and Bert duct-taped Henry, call me Hank, Jellicoe to the plate-glass door of the FBI building. Louise Jellicoe’s diary was taped to his chest. “Just so you know, you son of a bitch, this is your wife’s diary. She kept a copy. Yeah, the vigilantes found her, and she’s got a great life. Suck on that one, you bastard!”

  Jack reached up to adjust the red-feathered hat to a rakish angle. “That purple dress drapes beautifully,” Myra said.

  “You got it, Espinosa?”

  “I do, and it’s on its way. The only thing missing is a sign that says he’s Hank Jellicoe.”

  Harry let loose with what Jack called his smoke bombs, and the group disappeared just as the door to the FBI building opened.

  “What the hell … well, well, well, if it isn’t Henry Jellicoe. It is you, isn’t it, Hank? You are Hank Jellicoe, right? Well, lookie here, you’re all dressed up with nowhere to go. I like that hat. Boys, do you like Mr. Jellicoe’s hat? Tsk-tsk-tsk. That dress would probably bring out the color of your eyes if you could open them,” Yantzy said as he stared off across the pavilion through the waning smoke.

  Director Yantzy offered up a crisp salute. “Ladies, I do admire your style,” Yantzy muttered under his breath as he motioned for his agents to peel Jellicoe off the door. “No need to be gentle, but we should call a doctor. Well, when we get him upstairs, we can call a doctor. Or not.”

  Yantzy’s lead agent turned to look at his boss. “Do we know who … delivered him to us?”

  “I do believe the clue is in his attire. Those Red Hat ladies are having a day of it today. Don’t you read the papers?” Yantzy shrugged. “Hey, you wanted an answer, and it’s the best one I can think of. At the moment. It’s a damn good thing those schmucks from the Post aren’t here. Jesus, can you imagine what that paper would do with a picture of this asshole duct-taped to the front door of the FBI building?”

  The agent shuddered at the thought. “What’s that book taped to his chest?”

  “I don’t know, but I suspect that it’s the answer to all my prayers.” Under his breath, he murmured, “Ladies, I am forever in your debt.”

  “And they say Monday mornings are dull,” Annie said as she opened the paper Maggie had hand delivered. Everyone had a copy. The Sisters’ comments were ripe, lusty, and bawdy as they pored over the luscious picture of Hank Jellicoe duct-taped to the door of the Hoover Building.

  “Director Yantzy is giving all the credit to the Red Hat ladies for apprehending the notorious terrorist or mercenary or whatever you want to call Jellicoe.
He said the FBI is going to give a special commendation to their corporate headquarters. I just love, love, love it!”

  “Girls, do you feel vindicated now? Do you think you can put those eighteen months behind you and get on with your lives at last?” Myra asked.

  The Sisters looked at one another and smiled. “We can,” they said as one.

  Harry swooned. Jack went limp, and Bert froze in place. Ted looked at Maggie and winked. She did not return the wink. Espinosa hopped from one foot to the other as he waited for Alexis to look at him. When she smiled, he grinned from ear to ear.

  The world was suddenly right side up for everyone.

  Charles had the last word. “You did good, ladies and gentlemen. I’m proud of you.”

  “Then let’s drink to that!” Annie said.

  Epilogue

  “I have to say, Kathryn, driving cross-country was an experience I will never forget,” Bert announced as he gathered his things to hop down from the cab in the truck. “I can’t wait to get cleaned up and take you to dinner to celebrate your birthday. Are you excited?”

  “About turning forty? I don’t think so. I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you if we could do it tomorrow. I’m beat, Bert. I just want a nice hot shower, some warm delicious food, and a soft bed. With you in that bed. If you want to give me the perfect birthday present, that’s what I want. Please!”

  Murphy let loose with a loud bark as much as to say he wanted the same thing as his mistress. Bert hopped down, and Murphy leapt to the ground.

  They were in the underground garage, where staff were approaching to unload the slot machines from the back of the eighteen-wheeler.

  Bert panicked. His instructions were crystal clear. No matter what, he was to deliver Kathryn to the party room on the fourth floor. They were to use the service elevator, so Kathryn would not see that the casino was empty even though the bells and whistles could be heard periodically. His panic dissipated when a member of the staff approached Kathryn and said that Miss de Silva wanted to see her on the fourth floor as soon as she arrived.

  Kathryn sighed. “Can it possibly wait till morning?” One look at the petrified expression on the staff member’s face told her it could not wait. Murphy barked again as Kathryn signed off on the manifest. “Okay, okay, I am going to the fourth floor. I don’t know what could be so damn important I can’t take a shower first,” she mumbled as she led Murphy to the elevator.

  “You know Annie when she gets a bee in her bonnet. She wants it an hour ago. We are two hours late, Kathryn. I think she just wants to make sure you’re okay. In other words, she’s being motherly.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kathryn said, leaning back against the wall of the elevator. She closed her eyes. “So, did you really enjoy the trip, or are you just saying that to make me feel good because it’s my birthday?”

  “I wouldn’t do that, Kathryn. I did enjoy the trip. I don’t think I could do it every day or even every week, but I do have a new appreciation of why you like what you do. I’m apologizing here. I won’t say another word about your driving your rig. If that’s what you want to do, I’m okay with it.”

  Kathryn’s eyes snapped open at the same moment the elevator door slid open. “Really, Bert?”

  Bert grinned. “Really, Kathryn.”

  Murphy raced down the hall to the banquet room. “Hmm, wonder how he knew which room it was. Guess he picked up Annie’s scent. Come on, Bert, let’s get this over with, so I can hit the shower.”

  Bert opened the door.

  “SURPRISE.!”

  Kathryn sagged against Bert as tears flooded her eyes. She swiped at them with the back of her hand. Annie slapped a flute of champagne into her hand. “Happy birthday, darling girl!”

  And then they were all crushing against her, hugging her, slapping her on the back. The laughter and the happiness were so real, Kathryn felt light-headed. These people were her family, each and every person in this banquet room. It was a moment in time she would never forget. Ever.

  “So, we managed to surprise you?” Myra said.

  “You certainly did. I think I’m shocked beyond belief. However did you manage all of this?” Kathryn said, waving her arms about.

  Myra looked at Annie, and said, “This woman is relentless. She worked tirelessly to pull this off. We were so worried something would delay you, the truck would break down, whatever, and Bert just kept sending texts giving us the timetable. We’ve been waiting for hours. We aren’t complaining, so don’t think we are. Annie just wanted to make it as perfect for you as she could. She actually closed the casino for today and tonight.”

  “Oh, my God! You did all that for me?” More tears flowed as Kathryn wrapped her arms around Annie in a fierce bear hug. “It’s beautiful. I just love balloons!”

  “We had a lot left over from the Red Hat parade.” Annie laughed.

  “I love the ice sculpture! That’s a pretty big forty. And a Cristal champagne fountain! It looks like all my favorite foods. Oh, Annie, Myra, everyone, this is so wonderful! And the best part is, suddenly I’m not tired. I feel like dancing. Who knew turning forty could be so wonderful?”

  The two older women watched as Kathryn and Bert took to the dance floor. Kathryn’s uniform of well-worn flannel shirt, no matter what the weather, equally worn jeans, and her Timberland boots did not look out of place.

  What seemed like a long time later, the dance band trooped out of the banquet room, and the bell rang for dinner. Bert led Kathryn, as the guest of honor, to the gorgeous buffet table. The ice sculpture gleamed in the candlelight. The array of food was overwhelming, but Kathryn did her best to heap her plate with a little of everything.

  The guests were seated. Annie and Myra, the evening’s hostesses, stood up and proposed a toast to the birthday girl. The chefs, the waiters, waitresses, and stewards discreetly withdrew, virtually sealing off the room. And then just as they wound down from the birthday song, the last seat at the long table was filled.

  A hush came over the room as Kathryn looked down the table at the last guest to arrive. She felt a lump in her throat as she gripped the edges of the table.

  The uninvited, poorly dressed guest stood and looked down the long table. “I desperately find myself in need of your help, ladies and gentlemen.” The poorly dressed guest reached up and yanked at her raggedy wig.

  Shocked speechless, the guests could only stare at the uninvited guest. “No one knows I’m here except the Secret Service I traveled with. I’ll be back at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue before the sun comes up, and my PDB arrives at my door. I just have time for a yes or no, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Either the group didn’t hear the words or they were still shocked speechless, because every hand in the room shot in the air. President Connor smiled. “Thank you. It looks like a lovely party; I wish I could stay, but I can’t.” She fixed her gaze on Lizzie Fox and said, “Call me for the details.”

  President Connor walked down the length of the table, held out her arms, and hugged Kathryn. “Happy birthday, Kathryn. How wonderful it must be to have so many friends to do something this magnificent for you.”

  And then she was gone, the crazy-looking wig riding high on her head as her security surrounded her to lead her from the room.

  Kathryn took a huge gulp of air. “Well, guys, that was one hell of a present!”

  “Party time!” Annie bellowed.

  “We can talk about … our visitor in the morning,” Myra said.

  “Happy birthday!” greetings rocked the banquet room.

  “And you wanted to take a shower and go to bed,” Bert hissed in Kathryn’s ear.

  “Yeah”—she giggled—“can you believe that?”

  “You gonna marry me, Kathryn?”

  Kathryn thought about the question. “Ya know what, Bert? I just might.”

  If you enjoyed Déjà Vu, don’t miss the

  next exciting novel in

  Fern Michaels’s Sisterhood series!

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  Prologue

  Martine Connor hung up the phone. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She slid off her chair onto her knees and hugged the dog, which was looking at her expectantly. She had come to love this dog more than anything in the whole world, more than her absentee brother and sister, more than her job as president. And the dog loved her, she was sure of it. She was at her side twenty-four/seven, even in security meetings. She slept at the foot of her bed. Cleo was the first thing she saw in the morning when she opened her eyes and the last thing she saw at night when she closed them.

  The tears she’d been trying to hold in check trickled down her cheeks and fell onto the big dog’s shoulder as the president cupped Cleo’s head in her two hands. She wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come.

  The big dog suddenly stiffened. She looked around, turning her head this way and that, then ran to the door. The president sighed and got to her feet and walked over to the door. She opened it, and Cleo moved like lightning, shrill happy barks filling the halls of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The president swiped at her tears a second time. She waited as she remembered all she knew about Master Sergeant Gus Sullivan. A remarkable man in all ways according to what she’d read. A career soldier. He’d called himself a foot soldier. When she met him, he’d already put in twenty-six years, which made him forty-six years of age, and now, a year later, he was looking at retirement, something that hadn’t been in his plans. What was it he’d said? “My life is the military, it’s the only home I’ve ever known.” How was a wounded soldier, possibly handicapped for life, going to make it when he was suddenly thrust into a world he hadn’t lived in for twenty-seven years? The president shook her head to clear her thoughts.