Deadly Deals

by Fern Michaels

  The Sisters watched, bug-eyed, as Baron Bell slid across the polished wood floor, Adel Newsom right behind him. Both cursed loudly and ripely at the indignity they were undergoing. Avery Snowden, Charles's man in charge, gave Bell a swift kick. Bell slid farther across the floor. Newsom curled into a ball and whimpered as the two surrogates clutched fiercely at one another, their eyes full of fear.

  "They're all yours, ladies!" Snowden announced.

  Myra followed the two men to the door and whispered to Avery, "Has there been any word from Charles?"

  Snowden shook his head as he squeezed her arm. "No, I'm sorry. I can't even raise my people. We're all flying blind here, sad to say. I have my people scattered, so to that extent, everyone is where they're supposed to be. It's the getting from point A to point B that is our immediate problem. I want to commend you on making it here at all. I can't ever remember being on a mission with weather conditions the way they are right now."

  "Where are you going now, Avery? How is it you managed to capture those two?"

  "Dumb luck on our part. I had a man on Newsom. He told us where Bell usually holes up when he spends the night in town. We got there just as he arrived. We snatched him before he could blink. Right now we're going to do our best to get to the Post, and from there we'll head to Georgetown. I have two of my people trying to scrounge up some snowmobiles. If they're successful, we'll do what we can for the crew bringing in the babies. For all we know, they might be safe and sound in Ms. Spritzer's house. Since we don't know what the situation is, we have to forge ahead and do what we can. Be careful, Myra, and don't take any unnecessary chances. Charles will draw and quarter me if anything happens to you and the other ladies."

  Myra did her best to smile, but it was a lame attempt. Snowden squeezed her arm again and left the apartment. Myra felt like crying, but she stifled the feeling as she made her way back to the dining room, where she dropped to her haunches and brought her face to within an inch of Baron Bell's ruddy face.

  "Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Bell, and you others, listen, too. Because of your nefarious activities, a great many people have been put in harm's way this evening. It's short of a miracle that all of us are safe for the moment. Outside, fighting the elements, there are dozens of people who are trying to make things right because of all the wrongs you four committed. We know there are more of you, and we will find them, maybe not today or tomorrow, but we will find them. If I were you, I'd start praying right now that the babies, all two dozen of them, are safe and ready to be returned to the parents who helped bring them into the world, their rightful, real, adoptive parents."

  "I want a lawyer," Baron Bell bellowed.

  The Sisters burst out laughing before Kathryn stomped her foot on Bell's neck. "You aren't getting it, are you, Mr. Slimeball? You don't get a lawyer. What you are getting is seven judges who make up a seven-panel jury who will decide your fate. Are you getting it now?" She raised her foot slightly, just enough to allow Bell to speak.

  Bell, faster than a snake, grabbed Kathryn's ankle and was about to topple her when Yoko reached down to send him airborne. Bell landed with a thud against the far wall. A picture with a glass frame crashed to the floor, shards of glass flying in all directions.

  "Oh, my God! You killed him. You people are insane!" Adel Newsom screeched. A second later she was lying on top of Baron Bell.

  Yoko smiled.

  The Sisters scooted over and peered down at the dazed couple.

  "You were saying...?" Kathryn said.

  "What do you want?" Newsom whined.

  "Shut up, Adel," Bell snapped. "In case you don't know it, these women are the vigilantes. You should know what they're capable of. They've been splashed over the papers for years. You even told me once you admired them. Do you admire them now, you stupid bitch?"

  One of the surrogates took that moment to come alive. "The vigilantes!" she screeched.

  "We're all going to take your...discomfort, your tart mouth as a compliment," Kathryn said as she eyed Newsom. "From you, we want nothing. We went to your house in Rehoboth and took all your files from the freezer. That was so...Stupid doesn't even cover it. Even low-level drug dealers know about hiding stuff in freezers. It's what Mr. Bell has that we want. We opened his safes--that's plural--earlier this evening, and there was nothing of value in either one. However, someone other than ourselves also opened them, because there were puddles of melted snow in front of the safes. And, Mr. Bell, yes, we knew about the safe in the floor under your desk. You can say something now."

  "Like I'm going to tell you anything! Ha! Wait till my friends at the White House hear you kidnapped me," Bell blustered. "They'll be all over you like fleas on a dog. I'm part of the current administration."

  Isabelle dropped to her knees and tweaked Bell's nose. "That's not what we heard. You're about to be banned from the White House on orders from President Connor. You can thank Ms. Fox, the new chief White House counsel. Get used to the idea that no one, and I mean no one, is going to come looking for you."

  "Oh, Isabelle, that's not true!" Alexis singsonged. "The FBI and the local police are hot on his trail. The Post is set to run an expose of him and Newsom and those two college girls over there. They're going to be famous household names!"

  "More famous than us?" Yoko pretended to pout.

  "Never!" Annie said dramatically.

  Nikki tilted her head to the left to indicate that the Sisters should relocate to the kitchen. She turned and called over her shoulder, "Move, and we'll kill you!"

  Newsom started to sob; the surrogates continued to cling to one another as they sniveled and mewed like sick kittens. The Sisters turned a deaf ear to all of them as they entered the kitchen.

  "What now?" Nikki asked. "It's almost ten o'clock. We need to make some plans. We can't just sit here with those scuzzy people and do nothing. Maybe we should try and make our way to Georgetown. If the snowplow truck is really out front, we could take it and take those creeps with us. It's better than sitting here doing nothing." Nikki turned to Kathryn. "Since you drove an eighteen-wheeler, do you think you could drive that kind of truck?"

  "Absolutely," Kathryn said.

  "We need to vote," Yoko said.

  "No one wants to leave here more than I do," Myra said. "If we leave, no one will be able to reach us. At least if the phones come back on, they know they can reach us here. This is where we're supposed to be."

  "Myra has a point," Annie remarked.

  "We could split up," Isabelle said. "Three in the truck, four stay behind."

  "Then the four who stay behind have no means of transportation from this location," Alexis said.

  "Another good point," Annie said, "which means as much as we don't like it, we have to stay put. At least for now."

  "Well, then, let's make good use of our time by grilling our guests," Nikki said.

  Myra chewed on her lower lip. "Annie, I have the strangest feeling that Charles is trying to get in touch with me. I don't mean on the cell phone. I mean," she said, whispering in Annie's ear, "the way Barbara gets in touch with me."

  "Good Lord, Myra, don't say something like that!" Annie cried. "Getting in touch...that way would mean Charles is dead."

  "No, no, Annie, he's not dead!" Myra assured her. "No, he's doing that thought transference thing. I know how...silly that sounds, but I feel it. I really do. It's a good feeling, Annie."

  "Oh, well, in that case, home in on him and maybe he'll get a message to you. I'm going to take the clothes out of the dryer. I wonder if the Christmas party is still on tomorrow," Annie mumbled.

  Myra wasn't wrong in what she was feeling. Charles Martin, less than a mile away, was saying over and over, "I'm coming, Myra. I'm coming." He stopped his litany just long enough to stare at the building he was approaching. At first he thought he was seeing things, possibly becoming delusional, but within seconds he knew Lady Luck was riding on his shoulder. The Post building!

  Charles steered the Hummer as close a
s he could get to the curb, which was piled high with snow. He turned off the engine and got out, then climbed and waded his way over the mountain of snow to the sidewalk, where the snow was thigh deep, then to the door, the dogs alongside him. He pushed and shoved and finally got it open. He literally fell through the revolving door onto the marble floor, the dogs jumping over his prone body. He got up and ran as fast as he could to the elevator, which, magically, was working. He pressed the button for Maggie's floor and sucked in his breath. The moment the elevator door opened, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Maggie!"

  Hearing her name ricocheting around the empty newsroom, Maggie blinked, then blinked again. "Charles! Oh, my God! Charles, is it really you? How did you get here? What's going on? Are the dogs all right? Is everyone okay? I can't believe you're here! Come with me. I just made some coffee. No one is here but me. I sent everyone home so they could be with their families. Oh, Charles, I haven't heard from anyone," she said breathlessly. She gave each of the dogs a stale doughnut and watched as they gobbled them down. She then filled a bowl with water and set it on the floor. Both animals drank greedily.

  "I know. That's why I'm here. I have a vehicle. How far is it to the apartment where the girls are?"

  "Six blocks. Here, drink this hot coffee, and we can leave. I was afraid to chance it, or I would have gone myself. Where did you get a car?"

  "I had one of Avery Snowden's men doing some work on the mountain. He stayed behind, and I used his Hummer. I got lucky and managed to get behind a snowplow and followed it on the interstate. I thought I would never get here," Charles said wearily. "I'm ready. Can we go now?"

  "Just as soon as I put my boots on. I'm so glad you're here, Charles. This is all going to work out, isn't it?"

  "I hope so, Maggie. If it doesn't, it won't be for lack of trying."

  Maggie shivered as she thought about Murphy's Law.

  Chapter 13

  Jack Emery threw an extra log on the fire and watched the flames shoot upward. "Stand by the fire, Harry. You'll warm up in a minute. I cranked the heat up to ninety. God, I have never been so cold in my entire life. I'm going to heat up some chicken soup. We'll both be good as new in a few minutes. First, though, I'm going to warm up some socks in the dryer. My mom always used to say 'If your feet are warm, you're good as gold.' Maggie says that, too, so it must be true." He was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Moreover, he didn't care.

  Harry had his backside to the fire, a look of pure ecstasy on his face. "You talk too damn much, Jack. Just do it before we die of hypothermia."

  Like Harry even knew what hypothermia was. Jack hustled. He tossed two pairs of socks in the dryer and within minutes had two cups of chicken soup heating up in the microwave oven. He carried the socks and soup into the living room and handed Harry's over to him. "Once our insides are warm, we'll be okay. I think," he said.

  Harry sat down on the raised hearth and pulled on the warm socks. His eyes rolled upward in sheer delight at the delicious warmth. "The damn weatherman said to expect snow flurries. What's going on out there is not snow flurries."

  "I know, Harry. I know," Jack said soothingly. "Sometimes they don't get it right."

  "They never get it right," Harry snarled. "What are we supposed to do now? Do you have any food?"

  Sensing a Harry meltdown, Jack said, "I do, Harry. You just sit here, and I'll pop some dinners in the microwave. While I'm doing that, see if you can get in touch with anyone on the landline." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doorbell rang. "Shit! Who could that be?"

  "Try opening the door, and you'll figure it out," Harry said as he plucked at the numbers on the phone in his hand.

  Jack threw open the door to see Ted and Espinosa covered in snow. "Why are you standing there? Get in here, and take off your boots and socks. I know just what to do. Go on in. Harry's by the fire."

  From that moment on, Jack was busier than a posse of squirrels storing their food for the winter. When he returned to the living room with warm socks, heated blankets, and a tea cart loaded down with food, he said, "Your goddamn paper said we were going to have snow flurries. There has to be ten inches of snow out there. Maybe more."

  Ted bellowed in outrage, his teeth chattering, "So, you're blaming me for all this snow! Is that what you're saying?"

  Jack sniffed. "Well, it is your paper!"

  "No one is answering, Jack. Annie and Myra obviously didn't listen to you and left Bell's offices. Maggie is the only one who answered, and she hasn't heard from anyone." Harry narrowed his eyes and stared across at Jack. "That means we do not have a plan. We need a plan."

  Jack opted to take the high road. "Then come up with a plan, Harry. I'm all ears. And, it goes without saying, I am at your disposal. I think I speak for Ted and Espinosa as well. So, Harry, let's hear it."

  "I'm working on it, Jack. I sure as hell can't do worse than you did with those stupid pumpkins in Utah."

  "Well, Harry, those pumpkins, stupid or not, worked, now didn't they?" Hoping to divert Harry and erase the murderous look on his face, Jack looked over at Ted and Espinosa. "Did you guys decide about your Christmas gifts for the girls?"

  "I did!" Espinosa said. "I e-mailed the ladies, and they're going to gift wrap the earrings in a white satin box and send them by overnight mail. I'm done, and twenty tons have been taken off my shoulders. Gold wrapping paper with a green satin bow. I gave my credit-card number, and bing, bing, bing, it was done. Patsy e-mailed me and said it was a pleasure doing business with me."

  "Me too," Ted said. "Jill said I get silver paper and red velvet ribbon. Maggie is going to love it. I'm done. How about you, Harry? What did you decide? What about you, Jack?"

  Jack decided it was time to play host. He stacked the TV dinner trays on the tea cart, along with the empty cups. "I haven't decided," he mumbled.

  "You know why the son of a bitch hasn't decided? Because he's probably going to get a discount on his gift for sending the ladies new customers. Ain't that so, Jack?" Harry said through clenched teeth.

  "No, that ain't so," Jack sniped. "For your information, I am buying Nikki ten one-pound boxes of See's Candies. She loves their milk-chocolate orange creams. Ten boxes, gentlemen!"

  Ted let loose with a loud guffaw. "Candy! Tell me you aren't serious? Even I know candy won't cut it. Women want something of substance, something they can pawn if things go awry. I know this because Maggie explained it to me. She also told me something else. If you value your life, do not ever, as in ever, give your girlfriend something with a plug on the end. Presents with plugs on the end are the kiss of death to a relationship. I thought you knew everything there was to know about women! Ha!"

  Harry looked like he was in agony as he turned first to Ted and then to Jack and Espinosa as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

  Jack was saved from making a comment when the phone on the end table rang. All four men looked at each other, and yet no one made a move to answer it.

  "I think you should answer that, Jack," Espinosa said. "It might be Charles--you remember Charles--who just might have a plan we can implement."

  Jack picked up the phone. "Yes, sir, I can hear you just fine. Yes, sir." He mouthed the words my boss for the others' benefit. "I don't know what I can do, sir. I had to leave my car in town and walked home. Georgetown hasn't been plowed. I don't have snowshoes, sir. I understand every police officer, every reserve officer, every retired officer has been called in to help. Even the FBI? I didn't know that, sir. CIA, too. That leaves the Secret Service, and you know how those guys hate us locals. I don't understand why the Secret Service boys would think a terrorist attack might be in the offing with this weather. Well, yes, sir, there is paranoid, and then there is paranoid. The Christmas party at the White House is still on, and they have to deal with Santa Claus. Yes, I understand Santa Claus and the kiddies are a top priority. What do you want me to do, sir?"

  Jack's eyes went from wild to glazed as he listened to his b
oss. "I have three friends here, sir. I suppose...Yes, sir, I am an officer of the court and will do exactly as you say. I will deputize all three of my friends. I'm happy to be of help, and I'm sure they...my friends will be just as happy." Jack wondered how his boss would know they would understand, because Harry was going to kill him, and Ted and Espinosa would bury him in the snow, and his body wouldn't be found till the spring thaw.

  Jack looked at his friends, who were staring at him with deep hatred. He sucked in his breath and held it for a moment. "Sir, there are no vehicles to commandeer, and if there were vehicles to commandeer, they wouldn't be able to move in this snow." He listened again, his face turning white. "That does sound rather like a plan, sir, but how will you get them here? I'm not sure my friends know how to ride horses."

  Harry, his own eyes glazed over, balled his hand into a fist and drove it into one of the logs sitting on the hearth. Splinters of wood shot in every direction. Jack tried not to look at Ted and Espinosa, who were dancing in all directions, waving their hands and shaking their heads. He took their antics to mean they were not going to ride horses no matter what he said.

  "Yes, sir, I'll wait for your call as to the delivery of the...the animals." Jack broke the connection and said, "Boy, it's hot in here, isn't it?" And then he was on the floor, being pummeled and pounded to within an inch of his life. "Damn it, hold on. You're choking me. Let me catch my breath. After that, you can beat the shit out of me for all I care. It wasn't my order. It was the DA's order. Look at me, all of you! You are officially deputized as of this minute. Now, go ahead and kill me. They'll execute you for killing me. You know that, right?"

  "What? You think we're stupid? You have to read us something official. Then you have to give us a badge or something," Ted said.