Blindsided (8 page)

Annie rattled around in the kitchen cabinet, looking for glasses that matched. “You really need something a little nicer than these Mason jar glasses, Myra.” She whirled around and smacked at her forehead. “I have an idea!”

“Well, by all means share it with us,” Myra sniffed, as she plucked glasses from the cabinet.

“We stalk Pearl's stalkers and take them out,” Annie said.

“That's your idea!” Nellie hooted.

“And by taking them out, you mean literally
taking them out?
” Myra asked as she fingered the pearls around her neck.

“Okay, okay, we catch them, then Charles and Avery Snowden can relocate them to the far corners of the world. All of you, stop looking at me like that. It's not like we haven't done it before. Pearl deserves some peace of mind. I think we should vote on it.”

Annie whooped in pleasure when she saw all the hands at the table inch upward. “What this tells me, ladies, is that we all want Pearl to have an easier life, so she can continue to do what she does best, helping women and children and getting them to safety. Having said that, and the fact that we're getting ready to start a mission, I have another idea.”

Myra clutched her pearls like the lifeline they were. She managed to squeak out the words, “Tell us your idea, Annie.”

“Well, I think we will all agree that Pearl deserves one hundred percent of our help. But we can't really do that now because of the twin judges we're going after. Now, listen up, ladies. When Bert Navarro, and you all know Bert, took over the security at Babylon, he came to me and asked me how I felt about his hiring a certain man. He was an ex-con. The FBI Director, Mitch something or other, the one Nellie's husband replaced, framed him with the help of the current director, who was a top agent at the time, and an innocent man did the time. Bert followed the case and did everything he could for the guy, but it was an airtight frame was the way Bert explained it to me. Anyway, this guy is the best of the best, and I gave my okay. He did a stint with the SEALs and he's ex-FBI. We pay him an exorbitant salary, and every casino in Vegas has tried to steal him away, but he's loyal to Bert. I say we bring him here and let him get his pound of flesh for the years he was wrongly incarcerated. We can keep him on the Vegas payroll and pay him for whatever work he does for us, which is getting those people off Pearl's back once and for all.”

“Who is this person?” Pearl asked, excitement ringing in her voice.

“His name is Jack Sparrow. I only met him twice, and both times, he kissed my hand. Like I was royalty. He thanked me for having faith in him and believing in him.”

“Will Bert give him up even if it's for just a short while?” Marti asked.

“Marti, Marti, Marti! Does the Pope pray? I own the joint. I pay him. Bert works for me, as does Mr. Sparrow. Does that answer your question?”

“What question was that?” Maggie asked as she blew into the kitchen, her corkscrew curls standing on end from the blustery October wind.

“We're going to hire Jack Sparrow to take out the men ruining Pearl's life,” Annie said, glee ringing in her voice.

“
The
Jack Sparrow? The one who sued the FBI and won a pot of money? The one we wrote numerous articles about in the
Post
years ago and called him a one-man army? Oh, I am liking this! A lot.”

“That's the one,” Annie said gleefully. She smacked her hands together, then clapped Myra on the back. “Say something, dear, before I stuff those damn pearls in both your ears.”

“I think it's a marvelous idea. I can hardly wait to tell Charles,” Myra said, rising to the occasion but only because all eyes were on her.

One look at Pearl, who was kneading her hands with tears in her eyes, was all Annie needed to pick up her cell phone. With Bert Navarro on speed dial, she was talking to her head of security at Babylon within seconds. Quickly and concisely, in a voice none of the others had ever heard before, Annie spelled out what she wanted. Within seconds, she was ending the call over Bert's protests, which she was ignoring by saying, “I'll call and have my Gulfstream V burning fuel within the hour. And, Bert, I won't take no for an answer. I'll arrange to have Mr. Sparrow and whoever he needs to bring with him picked up at the airport and brought out here to Pinewood. Call me with his ETA on my cell.”

The women all clapped their hands, Myra the loudest, when Annie ended her call. “Doncha love it when a plan comes together, girls? Pearl, did I do okay?”

“You did. You did, Annie. I feel like I can almost breathe again.” Pearl jerked her head toward the kitchen door and the monitor overhead. “They're out there, you know.”

“Yes, but not for long.” Marti laughed.

“Ted and Espinosa can pick up your guests with the
Post
's van we use for undercover work when you get the ETA,” Maggie said.

The house intercom buzzed. “I do believe Charles is ready for us, ladies,” Myra said. “Leave the tea, we can clean up later. My dear husband doesn't like to be kept waiting. And I can hardly wait to tell him of this latest development. He may or may not go over the moon when he hears what we're up to.”

 

 

Thousands of miles away, Bert Navarro looked at his cell phone, offered up a few cuss-words that weren't in anyone's dictionary, and sent off a curt text to Jack Sparrow. My office. ASAP.

Five minutes later, there was a loud knock on Bert's door at the same moment the door opened. A tall man who looked like a nerdy college professor, right down to his tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows and a pipe that was never smoked in his breast pocket, entered the room. He had a silver head of hair that was all his own, capped teeth that gleamed in the artificial light, and a weathered tan that said he spent a lot of time outdoors. He didn't, but he did use a tanning booth. He was tall, well over six feet, thin, and fit. But it was his piercing green eyes that drew one's attention. They said,
I see you and everything about you, so don't give me any crap.
“How's this for ASAP? I was coming down the hall to see you anyway. What can I do for you today, Mr. Navarro?”

He even sounds like a college professor,
Bert thought. But then that was Jack Sparrow's stock-in-trade.

“Not me, Jack. Our boss, Countess de Silva.”

“Okay, what can I do for the lovely lady that I owe so much to?”

“That very lovely lady wants you on her private Gulfstream along with several of your . . . ah . . . best friends within the hour. Said the Gulfstream will take you to Washington, D.C., where you will be met and taken to Pinewood, Virginia. That same very lovely lady has a
private job
for you. It's one of those jobs where you can name your own price. You can take as long as you need to . . . ah, do what she wants. You will, of course, remain on Babylon's payroll. She did ask me to give you a message, Jack.”

An amused expression crossed Sparrow's face. “Which is?”

“ ‘This is your chance to do some serious damage to the assholes who framed you and sent you to prison for crimes you didn't commit. ' ”

“Did she now? I love it when a lady like the Countess has my back. When do I leave?”

“Like now. Be selective on who you take with you. Just the best, Jack. Annie and the others won't settle for anything less.”

“I hear you, boss. I'm on my way. Should I report in from time to time?”

Bert laughed. “Only if you want to.”

“Well, then, guess I'll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, guess so. Listen, you be careful, you hear me, Jack?”

“Uh-huh.”

C
onversation at the huge, round table in the War Room was quiet, even a bit subdued after the earlier exuberance upstairs. The main reason the women were so quiet and subdued was that they didn't want to disturb Charles, who was frantically working on the dais.

Myra turned slightly when she thought she felt a light touch to her shoulder. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her spirit daughter was letting her know she was in attendance. Her right hand reached up to touch the warm spot on her shoulder. Her head still turned, she looked up at Charles and wasn't surprised to see his head rear back. And then, like her, his hand went to his shoulder. He looked down and saw Myra smiling at him as she nodded. A slight tilt of his head told her he acknowledged his spirit daughter's attendance just the way she had.

Myra turned back to the others at the table. A quick glance told her no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. She wished she could shout out to everyone, to tell them her spirit daughter was here in the room, but she knew she couldn't and wouldn't do that; nor would Charles. She looked up to see Charles descending from the dais, his arms full of files and thick binders and folders. He distributed four sets before he gathered up the remainder.

“Good Lord, Charles, what is all this?” Nellie asked.

“Don't be alarmed, ladies. The bulk of what you have in front of you are the case files on the offenders the Ciprani twins have sentenced in the last five years. To be honest, I ran out of paper. I wanted to go back ten years, and I will, but not until a new supply of paper is delivered. There's no need to go through those files at this sitting. I printed them out so you could read them at your leisure. There's enough there for you to see the pattern of how the judges operate their courtrooms.

“I've separated this mission into sections. I've combined my own research with that of Maggie's source, who works for us from time to time. I also want to say that what you have in front of you is not complete. That means our research is ongoing. Taking that one step further, I strongly oppose any of you going to Baywater until we have everything we need. Also, I have not completed your legends as yet. I know you all want a time frame here, and all I can tell you is we need a few more days, possibly a week, to ensure we have an airtight plan.

“Now, if you'll all open the blue folder and follow along with me, you'll see it is labeled ‘Baywater.' What we have here are photographs, aerial and otherwise, of the town itself. It lists population, mileage, a map of the actual streets, the elected officials with their bios, which include the mayor, the city attorneys, the city planners, in short, anyone who holds any kind of office. All town employees right down to the gardeners who work out of the sanitation department are also included. You have in front of you all the information I could gather up to this point on past elections and the outcomes. Some of the bios are extensive, going back to a date of birth, and some of this information was obtained from Facebook and various blogs and tweets. So you are asked to be careful in what you believe and disbelieve. Also, there is a photo of the condominium where the twin judges reside during the week, along with the address. As you can see, a very costly piece of property. It is a very secure building. The other photos are of the ancestral home on the Chesapeake Bay. Before-and-after pictures. As you can see, the renovations were extensive. There are only three houses on the street. One house is empty and the other is inhabited by an elderly couple with a live-in nurse. It's very secluded and has, as does the condo, state-of-the-art security.

“The yellow folder details the lives of the twin judges' family, going back as far as we could. Again, read at your leisure.

“The red folder deals with Judges Celeste Ciprani and Eunice Ciprani. It details their lives with what is in print. There are no personal face-to-face interviews of any kind because there hasn't been time. I'm of two minds in regard to personal interviews. If I send Avery and his people to interview people, we're sending up some red flags. If we wait and let Maggie, Ted, and Joseph do it, we're on the spot to follow through should things go awry. This is something you will decide among yourselves.

“The beige folder will be your legends once they are created. Again, I need a few more days to make sure they're airtight. I want you to talk among yourselves and decide who you will be comfortable being because you will be living that legend, and you have to believe in it so that it's like a second skin. There is also the possibility that we won't even need the legends, and you can go as who you are. In other words, it is yet to be decided.

“The black folder is a financial folder. It contains all the financials we were able to dig up. There are bank and brokerage accounts that Maggie's source came up with that are not out of the ordinary. The accounts are healthy and robust and can be explained away by astute investing and being a bit of a gambler in the stock market. What isn't available is the dollar and cents amounts in the offshore accounts. The main account is in the Cayman Islands. Mr. Tookus believes there are others, and he is still working on that end of it. At one point, going back years and years, there was an account in Switzerland, but that's long gone, along with Switzerland's old banking laws. Mr. Tookus thinks the account was closed, transferred, then transferred back to Switzerland. There are funds in Liechtenstein, there are funds in the Antilles, and, of course, the Caymans. The Bank of Mont Verde to be precise. We do not know the amounts. Our research in this matter is ongoing. What that means is sometimes a bribe will work, but if discovered, it is a career ender for the person we bribe. So the payoff would have to be extremely high. Only time will tell.

“We were able to secure years of travel arrangements for the twins. Eunice appears to like warm weather, the ocean, and sand. She likes to water-ski. She heads to the Cayman Islands at least twice a year, usually during the Easter and Christmas breaks. Celeste likes to ski on snow and heads to Europe. Usually, they meet several days before the end of their vacations. One year, they meet in Europe, and the next in the Caymans. While in Europe, one would assume that Celeste travels by rail to the various banks and countries she wants to check so that there is no paper trail of her travels.”

“What about siblings? Wasn't there something about a brother?” Myra asked.

“Ongoing, dear. I'll have more later in the week. Right now, for all intents and purposes, there is no record of his even being born, much less dying. If there was indeed a brother, we'll find him. I, for one, have no idea how something like that could be expunged.

“The last orange folder deals with Daniel West, the reporter for the
Baywater Weekly.
I have to admit that gave me a devil of a time, the reason being the young man's name is Dennis West, not Daniel. He goes by Dennis or Denny to his friends. He's twenty-five and lives with a friend in a garden apartment. He's an intern, so to speak, and he grew up in Chevy Chase. Another reason I couldn't locate him using the utilities as a reference. The only thing I could find in regard to his credit rating is he is saddled with a lot of student loans. He drives a battered old Ford that is obviously paid for and is registered in what I assume is his father's name, and the home address is the parents' address in Chevy Chase. That search is also ongoing.”

“Charles, in all your research, what have you come up with in regard to how these judges became so powerful?”

“Fear and intimidation and evoking the family name is the only thing I can come up with. I now have a question for you ladies. Marti, what about your Secret Service detail? Pearl, how are you going to evade the FBI agents who have been tailing you? I need to factor all of that in when I create your legends for your own safety.”

Marti laughed, the others joining in. “It's all been taken care of, Charles. I am Martine Connor, private citizen. The detail is gone, thanks to Lizzie Fox.”

Annie weighed in on Pearl's problem. She explained about Jack Sparrow and his people, who would be arriving in another—she looked at her watch, and said—“thirty minutes.”

Charles nodded his approval as he gathered up his own copies and returned to his workstation.

The women at the round table let loose with a long, audible sigh.

“Well, this is not making me happy,” Maggie said sourly. “I was hoping to get on the road in the next day or so, and I know I speak for Ted and Espinosa. Having said that, I understand where Charles is coming from. I guess I'm just anxious to get going on all of this.”

“Patience, dear, is hard to come by and something we've all had to learn the hard way. In the meantime, I don't see any reason why you, Ted, and Espinosa can't call or e-mail or somehow get in touch with some of the parents of these children,” Myra said, tapping the stack of case histories. “On second thought, don't e-mail. You don't want to leave a paper trail that can be traced back to you. While I myself am not into the social media that are part of the lifestyle for some people, we need to factor that into our game plan once we actually come up with one. I bet that some of these people, perhaps siblings, have posted on Facebook, and you can get a feel for one or more of them. I'm sure that will keep the three of you busy for days on end. Remember, the more knowledge we have, the more power we have.”

“Well said, Myra,” Nellie enthused, clapping her hands.

“That sounds like a plan,” Maggie said.

“Annie, where is Mr. Sparrow being taken when Ted and Espinosa pick him up at the airport? You aren't bringing him here to the farm, are you?” Marti asked.

“Actually, yes; Ted is bringing him here this evening to meet all of you. Then Ted will take him to a hotel that we arranged for. After our initial meeting, there will be no physical or face-to-face contact. All contact will be by phone. When the situation is resolved, Mr. Sparrow will return to Las Vegas, and we'll move forward with our mission. Since this has to happen, it is the perfect time, what with our being in a holding pattern.”

Myra looked at her watch. “We need to go upstairs, ladies. We've eaten into the thirty minutes. Ted should be arriving with our guests momentarily. I guess we should convene in the dining room. Does that meet with everyone's approval?”

The women nodded, mumbling and muttering as they gathered up their individual piles of folders. Maggie led the way.

In the formal dining room, Martine Connor looked around, remembering the last time she'd held court here in this very room. At that meeting, she had been the president of the United States and she'd handed out the special gold shields that, to this day, had not been put to use. She felt a small thrill of excitement rush through her as she looked around at the other women. She couldn't be sure, but she thought they were thinking the same thing she was.

“Refreshments?” Annie asked.

“I think later, Annie.” Myra looked at her watch. “Our guests should be within a mile of here if the flight was on time. I have to assume it was or we would have heard from Ted by now. Tell me, what do you think now that we've heard from Charles and have our reading material in front of us?”

“I think we're all going to hell in a handbasket,” Nellie said. “Unless we send those two judges there first. I hate crooked judges. I find this whole thing extremely intriguing, and I can't wait to get started if my opinion counts.”

“Well, I'm raring to go myself. I just want those agents off my back so I can do what I want. It's going to be tricky is what I'm thinking. I hope, Annie, that you have Mr. Sparrow's pulse down correctly. My people are counting on me to get them to safety. That's my main priority.”

“And we'll make it happen, Pearl. Trust me on that,” Maggie said.

Annie ruffled through the stack of folders in front of her. “This is a lot of reading to plow through,” she grumbled. “Maybe it's a good thing if we all stop to think about it. While reading all of this and getting up to speed, Mr. Sparrow can put Pearl's problem to bed, and when that's all cleared up, we can start fresh. Charles is right. If it comes to that, we have to know our new legends inside out, so we can blend in and make it all work for us. Maggie, dear, do you have any ideas?”

Maggie looked up from a folder she was reading. “A ton of them, Annie. And when I go home tonight, I'm going to lay it all out. I'm taking Ted and Espinosa with me, and we will be burning the midnight oil. We can get a bead on quite a bit behind the scenes. We'll be checking in often during the day to apprise all of you what we are doing and learning.”

The dogs, who had been sleeping under the table, got up as one and raced to the kitchen, letting out the high and shrill barks they reserved for strangers entering the compound.

“I do believe our guests have arrived, ladies,” Myra said, getting up to follow the dogs to the kitchen to greet her new guest.

Introductions were made quickly by Ted. Myra didn't know if she was impressed or disappointed at the appearance of their new guest. Until Ted winked at her, which she took to mean everything was A-okay. She led the way into the formal dining room, where introductions were made again. She could tell that the others were having the same reaction she'd had initially.

Pearl's spirits sank at the sight of the man who was to be her savior.

Marti sighed. Nerd. She did her best not to look at Pearl, who looked ready to cry.

Nellie frowned.
I weigh more than he does,
she thought.

Maggie stared the longest.
Perfect. Just perfect,
she thought.

Annie grinned from ear to ear, like she knew exactly what everyone was thinking. They were all going to be so disappointed when Jack Sparrow delivered. She risked a glance at Myra, who was actually beaming. And she was
not
fingering her pearls.
Whoa!