In Plain Sight

by Fern Michaels

  “He has to know. This town has been buzzing for weeks now about a mass resignation. I don’t think Knight had any other choice but to do what he did if he did indeed do it. Remember, this is all Capitol Hill gossip,” Maggie said.

  “You know what they say, where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Espinosa said, just as platters of omelets and bacon were set down on the table.

  For the most part, the little group ate in silence, with only a few comments about yet another day of rain and what it was going to do to Nikki’s and Jack’s efforts to install a swimming pool. “They’re living in a world of mud, that thick gray kind that grabs you like a million leeches that won’t let go once you step into it. Nikki said she’s glad Nellie isn’t around to see what’s going on.

  “So where does this all leave us?” Ted asked.

  “Right where we were when we came in here for breakfast. The way I see it is that there is nothing for any of us to do until Saturday evening. Other than the fittings we have to have for our party duds tomorrow.”

  “We go back to the paper?” Dennis asked, hoping the answer was no, and that they were going out to Pinewood, where he could see Rosalee. His hopes were dashed when Maggie said yeah, they did have jobs and had things to do. He took it all with good grace and paid the breakfast bill since it was his turn.

  Myra and Annie left the Beautiful Nails Salon, admiring their new glossy manicures. “Lunch?” Myra asked.

  “Only if it’s a hot dog,” Annie said.

  “Okay by me,” Myra said, opening her umbrella. They walked along, huddling close under the umbrella until they got to a newly opened hot-dog joint, where Annie started smacking her lips in anticipation. “The works on two dogs,” she told the pert waitress, “and two double Orange Juliuses.”

  “We are living dangerously, aren’t we?” Myra giggled.

  “Sometimes you just gotta do it, Myra. Otherwise, what’s the point in getting up in the morning?”

  “Guess that’s as good as any excuse I could come up with,” Myra said, gulping at her Orange Julius.

  Annie held up her Orange Julius, and said, “Here’s to Lincoln Moss’s downfall! At our hands!”

  “Hear! Hear!” Myra said, taking another big gulp from her tall drink.

  Lincoln Moss was sitting in front of his computer, the word downfall on his lips. How in the hell did this happen? How had he gone from being the number two man in Washington and the Knight administration to . . . this? How?

  When he first got wind of the rumors about the mass resignations on the horizon, he’d actually laughed. Not for one nanosecond did he take them seriously. And here he was, two weeks later, at the threshold of oblivion. In his mind, it was all because of his wife and her sudden reappearance. If it was even true and not some trumped-up trick.

  Moss bent down and opened his bottom drawer and pulled out his little black book. He thumbed through the pages, smirking at what he was reading, thanks to Universal Privacy and the Pinkerton Agency. Right now, all he had to do was start making phone calls to every name in the book and watch what happened. Or better yet, he could call one of those reporters, anonymously, and spiel off the contents and sit back to watch the fireworks. But did he really want to open that can of worms?

  Moss leaned back and closed his eyes after he replaced the book in the bottom drawer. Hell, he even had the goods on his best friend, Gabriel Knight, President of these here United States. He smirked as he wondered, and not for the first time, what Gabe would say if he knew that Moss had kept a record of his short stint as a cat burglar, stealing priceless paintings and jewelry, then fencing them. He conveniently ignored his own role in the heists as being inconsequential. How else were they to get the money to dive into the stock market? Working a nine-to-five job simply wasn’t in the cards for either one of them. They both wanted success ASAP, not years down the road. And it had worked because of his own cleverness.

  All water under the bridge as they say, he thought. It was over, and he knew it. The way he saw it, he could go quietly, fade away into the night, or he could go out with a bang and take everyone out with him.

  Moss looked over at the door and the bag that had sat there for years. His GO bag as he called it. It contained cash, some files, memory sticks, and four different cell phones, which were activated but had never been used except to charge them from time to time. Plus three different sets of documents attesting to the fact that he was someone other than Lincoln Moss. Each packet contained a new name, a driver’s license, a passport, two credit cards, and a voter registration card, along with a library card and several other pieces of ID that would help him blend in and start a new life anywhere in the world.

  The way he looked at it, he was standing in front of a speed bump at the end of the road.

  What to do?

  Chapter 21

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, listen up!” Alexis bellowed to be heard above the kitchen chatter. “It’s three o’clock, and that means it’s time for everyone to get made up for tonight’s gala.” She looked pointedly at the boys, and said, “Right now, you are definitely not needed. That means you can go out on the terrace, dry off the furniture since it stopped raining, and moan and groan to your hearts’ content. A suggestion if you are interested. Eat! Unless you want to chow down on the kids’ menu at the gala. Your duds are in the spare room at the top of the stairs. Everyone is to be down here ready to go at five-fifteen, when our limousines arrive. If any of you have questions, ask someone else because I’m too busy to answer them. Now GO!” She winked at Espinosa, who burst out laughing.

  “At least it stopped raining,” Myra said. “We should be thankful for small favors. I for one hate going to a black-tie affair in the rain. So, who is going first?” The women squabbled good-naturedly for a few minutes before Yoko stepped forward. No one objected.

  The dining-room table was full of pots, jars, flats of makeup that resembled an artist’s palette, bottles, and brushes by the dozen. The women could only stare in amazement at what they were seeing and how Alexis moved from one brush, pot, bottle, or jar to another at the speed of light. And then there were the spray bottles and cans that spewed out glitter and flakes of something that shimmered and twinkled under the lights of the chandelier. Next to the dining-room table was a serving cart that held Myra’s and Annie’s jewelry, which Tiffany’s would have envied. Noticeably absent was Annie’s multimillion-dollar tiara. The girls were told to pick what they wanted but to make sure whatever they chose would go with their evening gowns, to which Kathryn replied, “You’re joking, right? Diamonds go with everything.”

  “Where’s Amalie?” Nikki asked.

  “Upstairs. Alexis wanted her separate and sitting quietly so all that adhesive and stuff she mixed up dried properly. She’ll be down shortly,” Isabelle said, looking at her watch. “I saw her, and let me tell you, she looks exactly like she did before her surgery. Even if her husband went nose to nose with Amalie, he wouldn’t be able to see the difference. Alexis is a miracle worker, there’s no doubt about it. Wait till you see her. Better yet, wait till Jack Sparrow sees her.”

  Annie was busy checking her cell phone. “I thought Mr. Snowden would have reported in by now.” She clucked her tongue to show she was not happy with not knowing what was going on. “He’s got round-the-clock surveillance on Lincoln Moss. His last text at noon said Moss hadn’t left the house.” Everyone just shrugged as they went back to choosing their jewelry for the evening.

  “I talked to Amalie earlier, and she was telling me how many people worked for her husband while she lived there. A very large staff, but Abner said that according to his checking-account records, Moss only has a housekeeper, at least he assumes it’s a housekeeper, and one other on his actual household staff. Two women. He pays them weekly out of a separate account. The same account he used when he had a full in-house staff. He has three people for the grounds, who maintain everything outdoors, a quasi-chauffeur who he calls on from time to time and, of course, four
security guards who work rotating shifts. That means to me he has two people on security at all times. I guess you could say he downsized once Amalie left,” Kathryn said.

  “That means if we hit him at home, we only have to worry about two guards, right?” Nikki asked.

  “That would be my assumption. Amalie said the housekeeper and the cook go home at night, as do the maids and the gardeners. The quasi-chauffeur lives in a cottage on the premises, as does his personal trainer. No one is inside the house after six o’clock except Moss. Unless he entertains. Amalie said that was rare. She said Moss was a fanatic about everyone’s leaving the house on the stroke of six. Rosalee was the only one permitted to remain since she was Amalie’s live-in personal maid,” Kathryn said. “Also, I suppose he realized that someone needed to take care of his wife after he got through beating on her. I cannot wait to get my hands on that bastard.”

  “I know this is a shot in the dark, dear, but did Amalie by any chance say if she knew the code to the electronic gate?” Myra asked.

  Kathryn laughed. “She was never allowed to leave on her own, so no, it was never given to her, but Rosalee said she saw it out of the corner of her eye as one of the guards punched in the numbers, and it was four zeros. Moss might have changed it since then. We won’t know until we try it I guess.”

  “Maybe what we need is an electrician or someone who can turn off the power to Moss’s house or maybe a few houses to make it look like there’s a malfunction somewhere,” Yoko said. “The alternative is I could scale the gate, slide down, and open the gate for you from the inside.”

  “Now that sounds like a plan,” Annie said.

  Maggie spoke up for the first time. “Mr. Moss never did respond to my voice mail. How rude to blow me off like that.” The others laughingly agreed that it was indeed rude on Moss’s part to blow off and tick off Maggie at the same time. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Moss would pay for that big-time.

  The remaining hours and minutes ticked by until the clock on the dining-room buffet indicated that it was already four-thirty.

  “Time’s up. I want each of you to check yourself in that mirror in the corner, the lighting is just perfect. Tell me if you approve or if you want anything extra done,” Alexis said, her hands on her hips as she surveyed her handiwork. She grinned at the ooohs and aaahs.

  “We look like models!” Annie laughed in delight. “I love it that you were able to fill in all my wrinkles and cover up those ugly brown spots. Just love, love, love it.”

  Myra seconded Annie’s glowing testimonial. “We certainly do,” Myra said, patting at an errant curl by her ear.

  “Hollywood, eat your heart out,” Nikki said, peering at herself in the mirror, where nary a blemish could be seen. She quickly put on a pair of diamond-teardrop earrings that could have fed a third-world country for a year. When she was done admiring herself, she clasped a diamond choker around her neck and swooned. “This stuff is insured, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely it is,” Myra said.

  There was a mad scramble as the girls dove into the pile of jewelry.

  “Time to get dressed, girls. I still have to make myself up and check on Amalie. Someone tell the boys to get dressed. We’ll all meet up in the kitchen. Hurry, girls!” Alexis chortled happily. She did love it when things worked out so perfectly.

  “We look like a bunch of penguins,” Ted announced as he walked around checking everyone out. “Pretty spiffy if I do say so myself. Just out of curiosity, when was the last time any of you guys looked like this?”

  Harry barked, “NEVER. And you won’t see it again anytime soon.”

  When Harry spoke, the others realized that their own comments or opinions didn’t matter. The room went silent until they heard Annie shout from the hallway, “Everyone stand back, here we come.”

  And in they came sparkling, glittering, and shimmering, with enough jewels, beads, and glitter to light up a room. One by one, the girls sashayed around the massive kitchen, showing a generous amount of leg, skin, and cleavage. And they smelled as good as they looked. To say the men were dumbstruck would be putting it mildly.

  When they finally got it together, Jack let loose with a shrill whistle that said it all. The women all giggled while the guys just gawked. In stupefied amazement. Or as Yoko said later, their expressions were the ultimate compliment, and who could ask for anything more.

  “Okay, everyone, partner up and let’s get this show on the road,” Annie said, reaching for Fergus’s arm. Myra followed suit by taking Charles’s arm and heading out to the waiting limousines. The others followed.

  The three long stretch limousines were their own parade into the District and to the Four Seasons, which was lit up like the Fourth of July. The media and security were everywhere.

  Invitations clutched in hand, the girls and boys of Pinewood exited the limousines as the hawkers who always appeared at functions like this whistled and shouted their approval of the women’s attire.

  Inside, after going through three different security checkpoints, the group made it to the ballroom and were told to go to their assigned table, which they did. Fortunately, Dennis’s Welmed table was right next to Annie’s table on the left, and the Post’s table on the right.

  “I do believe we have it covered, people,” Annie said.

  “The acoustics in here are terrible,” Myra said as she strained to hear whatever it was that Nikki was saying. Finally, she gave up and shrugged.

  “A drink would be nice,” Jack said. Almost immediately, a juice box was placed in his hand by a hovering waiter. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he grumbled. Harry laughed out loud.

  “There’s no bar. They want everyone seated, so nothing can go wrong,” Nikki said. “Canapes should be coming soon.” When a silver platter was set down in the middle of the table next to an artful arrangement of orchids, the group all laughed, Harry the loudest. Staring up at them was an assortment of small pretzels, gummy bears, Hershey’s Kisses, and marshmallows.

  Annie poked Myra in the arm and tilted her head to the side so she could look at the Director of the FBI and his date for the evening. Sparrow looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Amalie looked like she was frozen to her seat. Her eyes were on the entrance to the ballroom, and even if her partner for the evening said anything, she wouldn’t have heard a word he said.

  At six-thirty, the First Lady entered the room. Everyone stood, and she motioned to everyone to sit down. She walked over to a temporary podium and adjusted the microphone. She thanked everyone for coming, then went into a short speech about how desperately the children of the world needed help. Twice her voice cracked when she spoke of certain children and what they had to endure until help was forthcoming. The last thing she said before stepping down was to plead for all the guests to be generous at the end of the evening. “All of us here tonight are fortunate that when we leave here, we’ll be going to our homes, to sleep in nice beds with pretty linens and air-conditioning. Before you close your eyes, think about some child going to sleep in a ditch because there is nowhere else to sleep. Be generous. I’m begging you. Please, make me proud of all of you here tonight.” There was a standing ovation for the First Lady that went on for a full five minutes.

  Then came the usual speeches, all of them short and poignant by heads of different organizations that helped children. The last speaker was the President. “Don’t get up, please. I just want to second the First Lady and thank you all for coming and to say I do not think there is anything more important in this world than our children. Having said that, I know you are all counting the seconds till your food arrives. Enjoy, everyone.”

  The five-second speech called for another standing ovation as the waiters and waitresses started serving dinner.

  “I think half of Hollywood is here. A pity we don’t know any of those people. I would have thought since this is an older crowd, they would have called on someone like Barry Manilow or Tony Bennett,” Annie sniffed.


  Nikki leaned across the table. “There’s a reason for the young entertainers, Annie. They’re the ones who get the message out there. Think social media. The young are born to it. The world follows their every move. I think the First Lady is trying to sign them up to work on her behalf. Pretty good thinking on her part if you ask me. The President’s being here to shake hands and do photo ops with them certainly can do wonders. With young Hollywood, it’s who you’re seen with. This is a really big coup for those who are here. Tomorrow, their pictures will flash around the world at the speed of light and call attention to this event.”

  “Forget tomorrow. Try five minutes after they leave the stage,” Maggie said.

  Myra looked at Annie, and said, “Do not say we are old and don’t know who Bouncy is or that skinny one who got beat up by her boyfriend. We know. Thank you, Nikki, for clarifying all of that because it does make sense. I hope they donate as well.”

  “Oh, trust me, that’s part of the gig. They’ll all make huge donations. I’m liking these SpaghettiOs.” Nikki giggled as she popped a tiny meatball into her mouth. “You used to serve these to Barbara and me for lunch on rainy days, do you remember, Myra?”

  “I do remember, dear. You were both also partial to those gummy bears, too.”

  Nikki laughed. “This is like a trip down Memory Lane.”

  “Lincoln Moss is not here,” Isabelle said as she craned her neck to look over at the table he had purchased.

  “I know. All you have to do is keep watching Amalie, who has not taken her eyes off the entrance door since she sat down. People keep staring at her. Someone needs to tell her to lighten up and pretend she is interested in the Director. Without even trying, she’s going to blow this whole deal.”

  Kathryn leaned over and spoke to Dennis, who in turn alerted Rosalee, who then whispered to Amalie, who looked shell-shocked. She glanced over at the Welmed table, where Annie and Myra were sitting. Both women gave a curt, no-nonsense nod and narrowed their eyes at the stunning young woman, who immediately pasted a smile on her face and said something to Jack Sparrow, who blushed ten shades of red.