Free Fall

by Fern Michaels

  A chill raced up Lyons’s back. He wished now he had listened to the others and not come here.

  “To kill you,” the old man said.

  Stunned, Lyons could only gape at the old couple. “You’re a crazy old man, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The old couple laughed in unison. Lyons thought it was the deadliest sound he’d ever heard in his life.

  “She talked to the other lady in English. We learned some English words, when you took our daughters away, in case they ever came back to us. The man at the store taught us the words. We wanted our daughters to be proud of us. Our granddaughter is more beautiful than her mother.” Quicker than a snake, the old woman snatched the photograph of her daughter from Lyons’s hands. A second later it was back under the cushions.

  Lyons was just backing out toward the door when she said, “She told the other lady you are a famous film star and she is going to kill you for what you did to her mother and to all the others. We wished her well.” The couple cackled again as they sucked on their pipes.

  Outside, Michael Lyons ran to the car where he fought to quell the panic rising in his chest. What did those crazy old people know? They were so stoked up on opium, they were lucky they knew night from day. Still, he had been the one who took the picture of Suki on her arrival in America. Maybe the old couple wasn’t as crazy as he would like to believe.

  Lyons literally fell into the car. “Drive and get me back to the hotel as quickly as possible. I have a plane to catch.” He had to get back home. Back to the States. Back to his life. He had to look upon this as a warning. Just hours ago he was trying to figure out a way to leave his vast holdings to his daughter, provided that he could find her. Now, if what the old couple said was true, his daughter was searching for him with the intention of killing him.

  The other lady. What other lady? In a million years he never would have believed the mummified couple would know even a smattering of English. What other woman? A cop? Someone in authority? Surely not one of Suki’s friends. They’d be old now, in their late 60s. Who? The kid was a baby when Suki died. How did she know to come here?

  Michael Lyons started to shake and couldn’t stop.

  He was still shaking when he got to the hotel and up to his room. Three double shots of scotch did nothing to calm his nerves. A fourth shot gave him a blinding headache.

  A blizzard of phone calls later, Lyons had a first-class seat booked on a flight that would leave in seven hours. He could be packed and ready to go in fifteen minutes. He then made a second series of phone calls and when he hung up an intensive statewide manhunt was set up to be under way for his daughter.

  By the time Michael Lyons boarded the jet that would take him back to Los Angeles he had consumed almost the entire bottle of scotch and his hands were still shaking.

  Annie de Silva grinned from ear to ear. “Mr. Lyons has agreed to lend his name to the foundation and to make a sizeable donation. Are we in luck or what?”

  Myra smiled. It was nice to see her old friend so alive these days. “It’s wonderful, Annie. I knew you could do it. I think we should reserve some rooms at the Beverly Hills Hotel in case Lyons wants to get in touch with us. We certainly don’t want to compromise anything the girls do. I also think we should fly out ahead of them to make it look even more legitimate. Perhaps we can leak your arrival to whatever publication movie stars read on a daily basis.”

  “That’s a good point, Myra. I’ll get right on it. Now you can tell Charles. The lesson is almost finished so I’ll join you when it’s over. We’re going to get him, Myra. We are going to make Yoko as whole as we can make her.”

  “How did she live all these years knowing all that, Annie? I think I would have gone insane.”

  Annie could only shake her head. “How did Kathryn live with what happened to her? How did you live with Barbara’s death? How did the others live with their tragedies? I think with the hope that someday, somehow, things would all be made right. Yoko looks fragile, frail and so delicate, and she is all those things, but she’s also resilient, tough, and she has nerves of steel. I would never want to meet up with her in a dark alley.”

  “Charles calls her ‘our little lotus flower.’”

  Annie patted Myra on the shoulder. “It’s going to be all right. It really is, Myra.”

  “I hope so, Annie.”

  Annie leaned over and looked into Myra’s eyes. Her voice was soft, gentle, almost musical. “How did we get to this place in time, my friend?”

  Myra sighed. “We walked a lot of miles, Annie. One day we were children and then we were all grown up. I so loved our childhood. There were no worries other than which hair ribbon to wear, should we wear our lockets, mind our manners. It was the grown-up part I didn’t handle too well.”

  “You fell in love, Myra. You don’t have to make any excuses for that.”

  “Yes, I did, and what a glorious love it was, and still is. My only regret is that we never told our daughter the truth. I can live with the shame my parents said I brought on them. I can live with the fact that I married a man I didn’t love to give my baby a name. I was a good wife to my husband. When he died, I mourned him the way I was supposed to but my heart has always belonged to Charles, just the way your heart belongs to Armand.”

  “We were too pampered. We weren’t tough like our girls. What’s that expression the young people use today? They have it going on. How I envy them. At their age, I wouldn’t have had the guts to do what they’re doing. We lived in the dark ages, Myra.”

  “In some respects, I think you’re right. But we’re in the light now. We’re doing something…illegal…but at the same time, we’re righting old wrongs. I have no intention of quitting. As Kathryn would say, are you in this for the long haul, Annie?”

  “Damn straight! I am living! I still cry at night. I think that’s okay, don’t you, Myra? I mean, I lost my whole family. That sense of loss is never going to go away.”

  Myra reached for Annie’s hand. “Of course it’s all right to cry. I do, too. And, you’re right, the sense of loss is never going to go away. Annie…have you ever thought…I don’t know how to say this…But you, me, Nellie, we all lost our children. A parent is not supposed to bury a child. No one can explain this to me. All three of us, best friends for over fifty years and we all lost our children. Will we ever understand, will we ever be able to accept it?”

  “No.”

  The two friends clung together and cried. It was a long time before either of them stirred and dried their eyes.

  “Would you look at all that snow,” Myra said. “More and more I think we should all move to a warmer climate. It’s on my list of things to do. How about you, Annie?”

  “Your roots are here, Myra. You aren’t going anywhere. It’s nice to dream, though. Spring is just weeks away. But to answer your question, no, I have no desire to go to a warmer climate. Take heart, old friend.”

  “On that thought, I think it’s time for me to see Charles. I need to tell him again how much I love him.” Myra waved as she headed for the living room and the secret door that would take her to Charles and the war room.

  Chapter 13

  Maggie Spritzer knew she’d dallied a few hours too long in the hope of getting some kind of information from Alan Nolan. She looked down at her Nike sneakers, knowing if she even tried to slog her way home, she’d freeze to death. The snow, according to the weatherman on the small TV on the counter, had been falling at the rate of two inches an hour.

  “And,” he said ominously, “it will continue to fall at that rate throughout the night and into tomorrow.” Then he gave a dissertation on the Alberta clipper out of Canada that started the whole mess.

  Maggie sat glumly at the counter. She was on her fourth latte and couldn’t swallow another drop. She was stuck here with all the nameless people sitting at the terminals. Nolan was certainly no bundle of fun as he whipped up burgers and fries in the café section. The man was just too serious for his o
wn good. Did he ever smile, did he ever laugh, did he ever tell a joke? She doubted it. She was tired from trying to draw him out. Better to think of ways to kill Ted when and if she ever got back to the apartment.

  A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich on it slid across the counter. Maggie raised her eyes. “Oh, thanks, Alan.” She reached for a pickle spear and crunched down on it. “Looks like we’re all here for the night. I hope the power doesn’t go out.”

  Nolan walked around the counter and sat down next to her. “I have a generator out back. There’s a little apartment with a full bath, too. We’ll be okay. We were stranded a few years ago when a nor’easter ripped through here. The place was full then, too, just like tonight.”

  “What’s your boss like, Alan? Doesn’t he mind that you give the customers free food and let them use the terminals for free?”

  Nolan drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I’m the boss. This is my café. I can do whatever I want.”

  Surprise, surprise, Maggie thought. “That’s nice,” was all she could think of to say. She was just too damn tired of trying to keep the conversation going. She went back to plotting Ted’s death in her mind.

  “I own the bakery around the corner, too,” Nolan volunteered.

  “Really. Guess you’ll never starve then, huh?”

  “Good investments. Listen, if you want to use the phone, go ahead. Don’t you need to call someone to tell them you’re okay?”

  “I just moved here, remember? There’s no one to call. Unless you want me to call that creep who’s harassing me back in New York.” Maggie bit into the sandwich. It was surprisingly good, with strips of bacon and a slice of tomato in the center. She finished it, licked her fingers and went back to plotting against Ted for putting her in this position. She really felt lousy and knew by tomorrow she’d have a full-blown winter cold.

  “I have some cold tablets in the medicine cabinet in the back if you want to take them,” Nolan volunteered when Maggie sneezed three times.

  Maggie sneezed again. “That might not be such a bad idea. Thanks, Alan.”

  Nolan rushed off and returned with a bottle of cold tablets. He plunked it down and fetched a glass of water. “Are you warm enough?”

  Maggie swiveled around on her stool. He sounded like he really cared. “Yes.” She swallowed the pills and pushed her plate away. “It’s going to be a long night. You usually close around eight, don’t you?”

  “Or nine. Rarely later. It really depends on how busy it is.”

  “Then what do you do? Go home and watch the boob tube?”

  Nolan grimaced. “Hardly. I work. Sometimes all night till it’s time to go to the bakery. For some reason I don’t require much sleep.”

  “Well, I need lots of sleep. I can’t function if I don’t sleep. My body wears down and then I get a cold like now. Do you just, you know, fiddle around, or do you work at something? Like for money.”

  “Definitely for money.”

  “If I came to you and said, ‘Listen, I’m up to my eyeballs in debt,’ can you hack into the different credit card companies and erase my accounts, could you do that?”

  “Sure. Piece of cake.”

  “No kidding. Wow, I’m impressed. Bet you’re in demand.”

  “Actually, I am in demand but not for small stuff like that. I name my own price. I specialize in security, encryption, I can install barriers to prevent anyone from cracking into someone else’s computer system. I can install back doors, trapdoors, firewalls, worms, viruses, that kind of thing. I’ve done a lot of work here in Alphabet City that no one will admit to.”

  “What’s Alphabet City?”

  “You know, the FBI, CIA, NSA, DOJ, DC.

  Aha. Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “Let me get this straight. Are you saying you can hack into the United States government any old time you feel like it and read up on all the secret stuff going on?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Since I’m one of the few people around who can do this, I installed wormholes. It’s complicated. Of course I would never do anything like that. I have ethics. But I could if I wanted to.”

  Maggie was starting to get excited. “Yeah, yeah, I’d never do anything like that, either. These people who work in those places that use initials can make you disappear if they want to.” She thought about Ted’s run-ins with the gold shields. She had to take this slow and easy now that Nolan was in a talkative mood.

  “When you think of the government you think they have it under control. Let me tell you, they are vulnerable to people like me. If I wanted to, I could work for them and make a hundred grand a year. I make twice that much between the bakery and this café. Fifty times that much from my private clients. I don’t advertise my talents and only take referrals. It’s all pretty much secret so don’t go blabbing this to anyone.”

  Maggie managed to look indignant. “Get real here. Who would I tell and who would be interested? This sure is a strange city. Everything is a secret. Do you know any real secrets?”

  “More than you can imagine. In my line of business you’re only as good as your reputation and I never talk about my government work. If I even hint at anything to you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “Well, for God’s sake, don’t tell me, then. I want to live to a ripe old age.” That sounded good, she thought. Careful now, she warned herself, he’s loosening up. Careful, careful, careful.

  Nolan smiled. Maggie was struck at how nice he looked when he smiled. Nerdy but nice. Rich, nerdy and nice.

  “How’d you get so smart?” Maggie batted her eyelashes. “Guess that was a stupid question. Either you’re smart or you’re not. I am not book smart but I have street smarts. I think street smarts are important.”

  “You’re right about that, Julie Jett. That’s a nice name, by the way. I like the way it sounds. But to answer your question, when I was little I was sickly, rheumatic fever. My mother was overprotective. I read. I think I read every book in our library. When computers came on the market, my parents bought me one. I know this is a cliché but I took to that machine like a duck to water. As they say, the rest is history.”

  “Fascinating. You parlayed that into what you do now. You must be rich.”

  Nolan beamed. “I could retire right now and live the life of luxury if I wanted to. If I did that, though, I wouldn’t be able to help you this weekend, now, would I?”

  “No, I guess not.” Maggie wondered if it was the close quarters that made him so suddenly talkative or if he just enjoyed her company. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked bluntly.

  Nolan turned pink. “No. I dated a girl for a while but she kept trying to get me to play tennis, golf, and she was into going to the gym. She didn’t even know how to turn a computer on. She thought e-mail was obscene. We didn’t last very long. I date sometimes. I don’t have time for a social life.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m sitting here thinking about everything on my plate that I have yet to get to. I don’t know how I would manage a relationship at this stage in my life. You know something, Alan, without sounding like a traitor to my gender, you’re better off without that girl. You need someone who has the same interests you have.”

  “Sometimes I get lonely,” Nolan blurted.

  Maggie was about to respond when several customers meandered over and ordered sandwiches and coffee. More chatter followed as they made their way to the door to stare out at the storm. The decibel level of the chatter increased as they speculated about how far each of them had to go to get home. Cell phones were whipped out and the conversation escalated to an even higher pitch as other customers came over to the café side.

  Maggie marched around to join Alan behind the counter. “Let me help. It’s the least I can do.” As people called out orders, Maggie worked industriously.

  An hour later the customers were back at the computer terminals and Maggie and Alan were left with the cleanup. They talked about the weather, Washington, New York—nothing importan
t.

  “What was the hardest or the most interesting job you ever did? Did you ever strike out?”

  Nolan wiped down the counter. He appeared deep in thought. “No, I’ve never failed. None of it is that hard. For me, that is. What I do is time consuming and frustrating for sure. Probably the most interesting was a job I just did recently. Now, that one kicked my butt. For a movie star you’d think he was into something sponsored by the government or the Chinese. That guy had so much deep encrypted crap on his computer I learned a whole new language. He was hiding something, that’s for sure. I cracked it and turned over the information to the man who hired me, took his money, banked it and that’s the end of that story.”

  “You know movie stars! Who? I love the movies! I rent DVDs all the time. I’m a real movie buff. Do you know him or her?” Maggie gushed.

  “Now you know I can’t tell you his name. But, he’s up for an Academy Award.”

  Maggie managed to look disgusted. “So is half of Hollywood. Jeez, I thought you were going to make my day. He’s probably cheating on his wife, right? Thinks his career will be ruined if anyone finds out. Does he even have a wife? Who hired you to get the goods on him? Another disgruntled actor? Smear your competition. That’s how they do things in Hollywood. That figures.” She risked a glance at Nolan, who looked like he was at war with himself.

  “He’s already won three Oscars. The news says he’s a shoo-in. He’s not young. But he looks good for his age.”

  “Is he up for Best Actor?”

  Nolan nodded.

  Maggie closed her eyes and ran the list through her mind. “Michael Lyons?”

  Alan Nolan smiled. Maggie laughed and then reached for his hand and patted it. “So, do we want him to win or not? What do you think he’s hiding?”

  “I have no idea what he’s hiding, if anything. I was paid to crack his computers, which I did. Like I said, I have ethics. Whatever he’s into is none of my business. What I will tell you is the government hired me, not an actor. At least I think it was the government. My contact has some pretty high clearance. He didn’t balk at my fee, either.”