Crash And Burn

by Fern Michaels

  “Yes, it does, and I plan to try a little of everything. Maggie doesn’t know about the nurse yet. I expect she’ll kick up a fuss at first. I hope she doesn’t, because I hate wielding my authority.”

  Myra hooted. “Since when? You love issuing orders! You were probably a Prussian general in one of your previous lives, admit it!”

  “They’re one mile out!” Jack shouted to be heard over the TV that someone had turned on in the kitchen. “Dennis just sent me a text. Everyone, in the family room! The minute Maggie comes through the door, we whoop it up.”

  “I hope she isn’t upset with this little welcoming party,” Isabelle fretted.

  Annie shot Isabelle a look that clearly said, She’d damn well better not be upset. Isabelle blinked and followed Yoko into the family room.

  “Reminds me of a sweet-sixteen surprise party.” Lizzie giggled.

  “They’re about to turn the corner,” Jack said, looking down at the incoming text from Dennis. “For some reason, I don’t think this confetti is a good idea, but Ted insisted. Okay, I heard a door slam. Get ready!”

  “Then Ted can clean it up, since it was his idea,” Espinosa said.

  “Doorknob is turning,” Jack hissed.

  “SURPRISE!” the gang shouted as confetti flew in all directions. “WELCOME HOME, MAGGIE!”

  “Oh! Oh! Oh, you guys are too much!” Maggie cried out. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she clung tighter to Ted. They all watched as he settled her carefully on the sofa with a mound of pillows.

  “He’s handling her like she’s a national treasure, and in some ways, I guess she is,” Abner whispered to Isabelle. “At least where he’s concerned.”

  “There’s only one Maggie, just like there’s only one Abner,” Isabelle said, hugging her husband.

  “Party time!” Nikki said as she headed toward the magnificent buffet, which had been set up by the caterer.

  “I am so hungry,” Maggie said.

  Ted almost killed himself rushing to the dining-room table to fill a plate for his beloved.

  They ate, drank, talked, and laughed. All was right with their immediate world as Myra said, tipping her glass of apple cider upward.

  “For now!” Annie said.

  The camaraderie and laughter continued until it was time to start the cleanup process. Dennis West was the one who whistled sharply to get everyone’s attention. “Ted, quick, turn on the big TV. The Speaker of the House is due to have a press conference with the Chessmen! Hurry up!”

  Nikki looked over at Lizzie, who met her steady gaze. She shrugged.

  “This can’t be good,” Nikki hissed as Ted turned up the volume on the TV.

  “I think you’re right,” Lizzie whispered. “I didn’t expect a reaction this soon.”

  “Those guys are not dummies. This is a preemptive strike.”

  “I don’t like this. Look how they’re lined up. I bet we’re looking at a hundred grand in apparel alone. Suits, shoes, Hermès ties, monogrammed shirts, Rolex watches! The big guns. They don’t look like they’ve been sick,” Annie said.

  “That’s because they’re wearing makeup,” Alexis observed.

  “They wear makeup for a press conference!” Myra said in awe.

  “Welcome to the world of the Chessmen, Myra. Those guys were probably up all night rehearsing this little ten-minute interview. They’re experts at this. It’s all about the show they’re putting on,” Lizzie said.

  “Shhhh, here comes the Speaker. Looks rather dashing, if I do say so myself,” Maggie commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this good, and I’ve interviewed him dozens of times. Ted has, too. He’s really put together, like someone dressed him from some chic, high-dollar haberdashery.”

  “That’s exactly what they did, Maggie. He’s going to give a flawless performance,” Lizzie said, and her eyes narrowed in speculation.

  “They look like they’re at a funeral,” Dennis said.

  “And that is to give you the impression that this is indeed the end of something that we are about to hear about. See how solemn they all look. It’s a game. A chess game to these guys,” Lizzie said.

  “Where is this taking place?” Yoko asked.

  “The Chessmen’s offices. Outside the front door, actually,” Nikki responded. “Shhh, he’s talking, and we do not want to miss a word of this.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. I have something I want to share with you all, and I did not want gossip and speculation out there when I can stand here and give you the straight story.

  “As you all know, I am a public figure and have been in politics my whole adult life. Because of that, there are those of you who like to write about matters like what I am about to tell you and put your own spin on things.

  “My wife and I have decided to go our separate ways. Yes, that means we are divorcing after many, many years of married life. I’m standing here now feeling lower than I have ever felt in my whole life. Because this divorce is my fault. I let my job consume me because I was bent on doing what is right for my country and my fellow man. Along the way, I forgot about my wife, who was sitting at home raising our son. I regret that now, but I cannot unring the bell. My wife is an exceptional woman. She never complained, she kept our home fires going and saw that our son had a good life. I was, at best, an absentee husband and father. I take full responsibility for shirking my duty to my family.

  “My wife wants a life outside of the political arena. She wants to live an artist’s life, to paint, to read, to write in surroundings of her choice. She wants to be available to babysit grandchildren, if they come along. She’s tired of luncheons, dinners, photo ops, and seeing me plastered all over the television and newspapers. I understand that. Now. At first, I didn’t, because I’m a man, and sometimes can’t see the forest for the trees, as my wife put it.

  “There is nothing dark or shady in our decision to divorce. There were no extramarital affairs. There will be no ladies coming out of the darkness, no boy toys to titillate the media. Livinia and I are simply two people who decided that it was time to move on and enjoy what’s left of the rest of our lives. I will be vacating the marital home and moving into a condo in Crystal City. I don’t think I can handle staying in our home without my wife there. The memories would just consume me, and I wouldn’t be any good to anyone. What I am trying to do here is tell you my situation, so you all don’t go digging and dragging up anything you can think of just for the sake of gossip. I’m being as honest and forthright as I can be right now, even though it is beyond painful. Even more so for myself since I am the one at fault here.

  “This is the only interview I will be giving on this matter. I imagine, but I do not know this for sure, my wife might decide to speak out. I seriously doubt it, since she is such a private person. I’m asking all of you to please let us get through this painful, emotional time the best way we can. Please give us some privacy to make our way to the next stage in whatever life holds in store for us both. Thank you for coming and, no, I will not be taking questions. Oh, one last thing, yes, it is my intention to run for the presidency. Thank you, again.”

  The last camera shot of the five men was of the Speaker swiping at his eyes as he followed his attorneys into the building outside of which the press conference was held.

  “That was sickening,” Nikki said.

  “I did like the eye swiping,” Lizzie said. “I told you they choreographed this whole thing, right down to the teary eyes. He’s stepping up to the plate, admitting he did wrong and taking all the blame. People love hearing stuff like that. The Chessmen never miss a trick.”

  “What is this going to do to your client, dear?” Myra asked.

  “Right now, Myra, I don’t know. Lizzie, what do you think?”

  “I’m going to reserve my opinion for the moment. I want to think about this. For now, though, I think you should call Livinia and tell her to turn on her television. Just in case she is tempted to blow her
cover and do an interview, tell her not to. Before we make a move, we need to see what she has to say and what her reaction is to her husband’s statement.”

  “I think we all need to leave now so Maggie can get some rest. Her nurse will be here shortly,” Annie said, looking down at the oversized Mickey Mouse watch on her wrist. The doorbell took that moment to ring. Annie smiled from ear to ear as Maggie sat up straighter in her nest of pillows.

  “What nurse? No one said anything about a nurse. I don’t want a nurse. I can take care of myself. Ted said he would help out. No, no, no!”

  “Look at me, dear! That wasn’t a question, nor was it a request for permission. It was a statement of fact. I have a busy schedule for Ted and Joseph, so they won’t be any help to you.”

  “But, Annie . . .”

  “This is not up for discussion, Maggie. The nurse stays until your doctor says she is no longer needed. Please tell me you understand.”

  Maggie looked toward the door, where her nurse was standing, suitcase in hand. If she was intimidated by the large group of people and her patient, she gave no outward sign. She smiled, and said, “Hello, everyone. My name is Ming Su.”

  “Mercy, Annie, she looks like she’s twelve years old, and she can’t weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet. Wherever did you find her?” Myra whispered.

  Annie laughed gleefully. “From Harry. That little slip of a girl has a black belt and could toss Charles and Fergus across the room and never break a sweat. She won’t take any sass from Maggie, either. Trust me when I tell you we are leaving our intrepid reporter in excellent hands.”

  “Well, then, in that case, I say we leave the two of them to get acquainted. Time to go, people!”

  There was a mad scramble as everyone searched for their briefcases, purses, and backpacks before they stood in line to hug and kiss the patient, who was fuming like a dragon bent on breathing fire.

  “We’ll check in, from time to time, to see how you’re doing,” Yoko said.

  “Twice a day, no more,” Ming Su said in a musical voice.

  “Now, see here, that’s not going to work for me,” Maggie started to sputter.

  “But it works for me, and I’m the one in charge,” Ming Su said softly.

  Nikki bent over to kiss Maggie’s cheek as she was the last in line. “Give it up, Maggie, she’s here to stay, and always remember, Harry trained her, and she has a black belt. And you are slightly incapacitated. Enjoy the attention and get on that computer and do what you do best. Find us something that will be beneficial. See ya. Call if you need anything.”

  “Yeah, see ya,” Maggie said as she settled down to accept the inevitable.

  Chapter 12

  Annie de Silva blew into Myra’s country kitchen like the hounds of hell were on her heels. Her hair was standing straight up in the air, thanks to the ferocious October wind, and her cheeks were cherry red, thanks to her wild dash across the courtyard to the kitchen door. Bright orange leaves were on the shoulders of her jacket. She shook them off and looked down at the floor, then at Myra. “Where’s the broom?”

  “Where it’s always been for the past forty years, in the laundry room. How cold is it out there?”

  “The thermometer in my car said it was fifty-two degrees. It’s going to rain later. I feel it in my knees. Actually, it’s rather misty out right now, and the leaves feel wet. Do you have any news, Myra? It’s been three whole days since Maggie’s welcome-home party. I thought we were going to have a meeting. What’s going on?”

  “You missed one,” Myra said, pointing to a yellowish leaf lying next to the stove. Annie made a face as she bent down to pick up the offending leaf. “Nothing is going on, that’s the problem. Charles and Fergus are down in the war room, where they’ve been for the past three days. I have no clue as to what they are doing. Didn’t you miss Fergus? I think he’s been sleeping here in your room.”

  “Of course I missed him. He’s Scotch, you know, and tight-lipped. The reason I came over here was to see if he was still alive. Is he, Myra?” Annie asked with a tinge of anxiety in her voice.

  Myra was in a devilish mood. “Do you think we should go down to the war room and check? Now that you mention it, I really haven’t seen Charles, either. Nothing has been going on in the kitchen. No one has cooked anything. Sniff the air, Annie. Do you smell the remnants of anything?”

  The sudden look of alarm on Annie’s face made Myra laugh out loud. “Got you that time!”

  “What are they doing down there?”

  “We could go down and see for ourselves. That’s if we really want to know. I’ve seen Avery’s car coming and going, so whatever is going on must involve him and his operatives. At our last meeting, the reports were still coming in on those lawyers they call the Chessmen. Nikki hasn’t called. Lizzie is still here. She’s staying with Nikki and Jack. That, I am very much afraid, is the sum total of what I know.”

  “Maybe we should go out to lunch instead of going down to the war room. Charles hates it when we pop in uninvited. It’s almost Halloween. We could stop at Yoko’s nursery and pick up some pumpkins. Or we could just sit here, drinking coffee. Or you could continue to knit on that three-mile-long scarf you’ve been working on for God alone knows how long.”

  “You know what, Annie. That’s a good idea. Let’s go to the Daisy Wheel.”

  “They don’t do lunch, just dinner.”

  “I know that. It’s just two thirty now. They open at four. By the time we get there, it will be after four. I’m game if you are.”

  “I don’t think the Daisy Wheel is a good choice. Let’s just order in and start our own investigation. I’m tired of waiting around for things to happen. We need to jump in with both feet and stir the waters.”

  “Ya think?” Myra drawled. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “Good Lord! You forgot already. You said start at the beginning. Isn’t that what you said? So we start at the beginning. That means Nikki’s divorce client and her new associate, Amy Jones Lambert. I just had a better thought. Let’s pack up and head for Georgetown. I think it’s time to visit Maggie. She knows how to do all that social-media stuff. We can sit there and watch her do it. What do you say?”

  “I say let’s do it. We can stop for takeout and have an early dinner with her. She’s probably going out of her mind, being stuck in the house with that nurse. Just give me ten minutes to change, take the dogs out, and put down some food for them.”

  “Make it snappy, Myra. I know how you dawdle. I don’t want to get caught up in rush-hour traffic.”

  “Ten minutes, Annie. Not a minute longer.”

  Myra was as good as her word. She was downstairs, purse in hand in exactly ten minutes. “You driving, or am I?”

  “Is that some kind of trick question, Myra? I said we want to get there before rush hour. If you drive, we’ll be lucky to get there by eight tonight. I. Am. Driving!”

  It was a little past four thirty, with two stops for takeout, when Annie rang the doorbell at Maggie’s Georgetown house. They were greeted by Ming Su and Maggie’s cat, Hero, who brushed against Myra’s leg so forcefully that her purring sounded like the opening bars of a Rossini overture.

  “Company! Thank God!” Maggie squealed. “And I can smell the food. Oh, lead me to it, you dear ladies!” Then, sotto voce, she said, “Please, you need to get rid of her. I’m starving. She makes me eat like Harry eats, sprouts and weeds, and she’s driving me crazy.”

  “Just a few more days, dear,” Myra said as she headed to the kitchen to get the food ready.

  Annie looked around the neat, tidy family room. She nodded to Ming Su, and said, “Myra and I will be here for a while. Go into town and do some shopping, have tea or dinner. I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order, and Ming Su recognized it as such. She nodded, smiled, and bowed. Five minutes later, she was out the door.

  “Quick, Myra, hit the dead bolt so she can’t get back in. Please. Look at me
, I’m half crazy. If it wasn’t for my laptop, I would be all the way crazy. Oh, this food looks so good. I want some of everything. A lot of some of everything. Hide the leftovers.”

  Annie and Myra picked and stirred at their food as Maggie gobbled hers and went back for seconds. Everyone knew all there was to know about Maggie’s whacked-out metabolism.

  “We need your help, dear,” Annie said.

  “Sure, what do you want me to do?”

  “We want to get the skinny on Amy Jones Lambert.”

  “Really!” Maggie said, fork poised in midair. “When you were here for my welcome-home party, I did hear you, Myra, when you told Nikki to start at the beginning. I already did that. It’s what I’ve been working on these past three days. Ted and Espinosa, too. I had to do something, or I would have gone out of my mind. Do you know that person actually trimmed my toenails! She did.”

  Myra and Annie both leaned forward. “What have you found out?” they asked in unison.

  Maggie’s expression turned crafty. She laid her fork down, and asked, “What’s it worth to you?”

  “You are on my payroll, Maggie!” Annie sputtered.

  “No, I am not. I am officially on disability. So, ladies, what’s it worth to you?”

  “Is what you have any good?” Myra asked. “Won’t Charles and Avery be able to find out the same thing?”

  “Yep. Nope.” Maggie speared her sixth mini meatball and popped it into her mouth. She reached out for an egg roll and took a good look at it before she bit down. She smiled at Myra and Annie and was as certain as she could be that Ming Su was as good as gone.

  “All right! All right! Ming Su was for your own good, Maggie,” Annie said. She looked like she’d just bitten into a sour lemon.

  “Say it! I want to hear the words,” Maggie said as she crunched down on the shrimp egg roll.

  “Ming Su goes.”

  Maggie clapped her hands in glee. “Call her to come back and pick up her gear. You might want to give her . . . you know, a bonus of some kind for putting up with me.”