Deja Vu (10 page)

“He’s already halfway out the door, according to the press. Frank is another of those nominations she had to make, according to her early advisors, virtually all of whom were more interested in protecting their own positions in the party than helping the first woman president to put together an administration that would successfully push her agenda. I’m sure that Connor can find some capable woman who can run that monstrosity of a department and be confirmed by the Senate. If that happens, we won’t have to wait till the Fourth of July for a fireworks display.”

“Then that has to mean she doesn’t give two hoots about Jellicoe getting caught. She wants all three out, so she can put people whom she trusts in.”

“Well, yes, in my opinion, but you’re wrong about her not caring about Jellicoe; she does care. Having said that, she gave the trio an impossible timetable for accomplishing the goal. I would almost bet the rent that she’s already in talks with Karen Star and Olivia Malone.”

“And at the end of the thirty days, when they can’t produce Hank Jellicoe, she just announces the resignations and has the new appointments ready to go?” Myra said, her mind racing.

“And … that is when she makes contact with the vigilantes,” Charles said. “Don’t you ladies get it? Connor is not dumb. She gave all of you full immunity; she’s got new people in place, people loyal to her, then you girls bring in Hank Jellicoe, and the next four years are guaranteed. Win-win for Martine Connor.”

“Oh, my God!” Annie said.

“Absolutely brilliant,” Myra said.

“I think so,” Charles drawled.

“The president must think very highly of the vigilantes’ capabilities,” Annie said thoughtfully. “We’re as much in the dark right now as those three men. I wonder why she thinks we can do what they can’t.”

“Maybe because we’re women, and we take no prisoners?” Myra smiled. “If you had to put your money on them or us, whom would you bet on?”

“Well, us, of course,” Annie said. “I just had another thought. I think we need to have Maggie get in touch with her friend Emma Doty again. She might remember something else she hasn’t told us. Charles, why didn’t Jellicoe ever get married?”

Charles blinked. “He was married once. It didn’t work out. Lord, it seems like a hundred years ago. His wife was very young at the time; they had a little girl, as I recall. She didn’t like his lifestyle. When I went to see him at his compound last year in Pennsylvania, I tried asking him about her, but he chopped me off at the knees. I did hear once, years and years ago, that she was put into the Witness Protection Program. It was a rumor. I don’t know how she could have arranged for something like that for herself and her daughter, because it wasn’t like Hank was involved in something illegal. It was a marital dispute, but she was afraid of him. I do know that from that point on, Hank never spoke about his wife or daughter; it’s like they never existed. He’s good at doing things like that. Hank didn’t like that she left him, and it got nasty. Other than being dumped by the Pentagon, that was the only time I know of that Hank Jellicoe came up on the short end of the stick.”

“That’s something we didn’t know before,” Annie said. “There might be something there we can sink our teeth into. Do you know her name? How old do you think the daughter would be today?”

“No, I can’t remember her name; he just referred to her as his wife. If I did know it, I’ve forgotten it. I’m thinking the daughter would be near forty, possibly a little older, maybe a little younger. Don’t even go there; that was way before Hank became so successful. They have nothing to do with his life, and why disrupt those lives even if you could find them?”

“But, Charles, what if suddenly, considering the circumstances he now finds himself in, Hank starts searching for them? What does he have to lose? He’ll use anyone he can to stay ahead of the game.”

“If he hasn’t found them after all these years, he isn’t going to suddenly find them now. This time, ladies, you are wrong. Let sleeping dogs lie. I think I’ll retire now. It’s been a very long day. Myra?”

“I’ll be along in a few minutes, Charles.”

The minute the kitchen door closed behind Charles, Annie leaned across the table. “Aha! Did you know that, Myra?”

“Actually, I did in a vague sort of way. Like Charles said, it was many, many years ago. To be honest, I don’t know if it was Charles who told me or Hank himself; but yes, I knew. I never attached any real importance to it; it was a marriage that didn’t work out because of his dedication and long hours in building his company. I think that’s what I thought at the time. Now that I know for certain, I’ll think about it and possibly remember something else.”

“It’s more information than we had ten minutes ago and more information than the CIA and the FBI have. I can’t wait to share this information with the girls in the morning,” Annie said as she got up to gather the plates and coffee tray.

Myra wrapped her arm around Annie’s shoulder. “We had a good day today, my friend.”

“Yes, we did, Myra, and tomorrow it’s going to be even better.”

Chapter 9

“T
his is so nice,” Nikki said as she looked around the quaint little restaurant in Georgetown. “We’re all together just like normal people having a girls’ luncheon. We’re all here but Myra and Annie, who are preparing for Annie’s
big date.
I think Myra is more excited than Annie is for some reason.”

The girls giggled as they flipped open the menus the waitress had handed them. Always the most verbal of the group, Kathryn closed her menu, and said, “Why do I have the feeling this is a little more than a girls’ midweek luncheon?”

“Because it is,” Isabelle quipped. “By the way, in case any of you are interested, I landed a
big
job yesterday. Annie is buying the Needleman farm down the road from Myra, and she wants me to redesign it with her needs in mind. It’s going to take me at least a year, but she said that was okay. Yeah, yeah, I didn’t go out pounding the pavement for this one, it just fell in my lap, but hey, I’ll take it, nepotism aside. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into a real honest-to-god project and all the nitty-gritty that goes with it.”

A chorus of congratulations rang through the little restaurant as the girls high-fived one another.

The girls played catch-up until their ice tea arrived, and they gave their orders. Then they got down to business, with Maggie taking center stage. “By any chance did any of you have time to read the paper this morning?” It seemed that no one had, so Maggie whipped a copy of the
Post
out of her backpack and proceeded to enlighten all of them on what she was very proud of. “I did it on Annie’s orders. She got me right before we were putting the paper to bed last night. Read it and cheer me on, ladies?”

The whoops of delight were muted but still exuberant. “The White House is going to be smarting this morning, and I bet Span and Yantzy, as well as that clod Frank, already have a bounty on your head. You scooped the other papers again. This town will be buzzing from one end to the other,” Alexis said.

“I like that ticking-clock logo you have on there. You gonna run with that every day as the hours count down?” Yoko asked.

“Oh, you bet I am. Ted dropped a hint to one of his colleagues at a rival paper at my suggestion, and he should be here shortly to somehow just manage to take a picture of this table or as we exit when we’re done. I’m putting myself front and center. I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea or not, but my gut tells me to run with it.”

“Shows them you’ve chosen up sides, and you’ll take the hit if there is one headed your way. Good going, Maggie,” Nikki said. The others agreed.

Kathryn broke off a chunk of crusty bread on her plate, buttered it, then popped it in her mouth. When she finished chewing, she had a dour look, and her tone was just as dour. “They’re going to say you’re one of
us
now. Even though there is no
us
any longer. Being free agents can still taint you, Maggie.”

“Yeah, there is that,” Maggie said. “I’m sort of thinking I fall into the category of
untouchable
right now. Who in their right mind is going to take on the
Post?
The only people we, or I should say
I,
have to be concerned about is the court of public opinion. Everyone is fed up with this damn Alphabet City and those cockamamie agencies that are supposed to be taking care of all of us and watching out for us. Ha! We can do better with our eyes closed, and as you all well know, the pen is mightier than the sword.”

The women laughed. “She does have a point,” Yoko observed.

“Myra called a meeting tomorrow evening out at the farm. Charles is going to barbecue, and he’s promised to have some reading material to go over,” Nikki said, barely able to contain her excitement. “And the icing on that particular cake will be we get to see Annie’s face when she tells us all about her date tonight. I for one can’t wait to hear how that goes. Ooops, wait a minute here. I thought Annie and Myra were taking the red-eye tonight after the big date. Did they postpone their trip? Obviously they did if they invited us to dinner tomorrow. What’s up with all of that?”

Panic in her eyes, Alexis leaned forward, and whispered, “Nikki, aside, does this mean we’re back in business? But I thought…”

“What it means is we’re consultants. Of a sort. That’s how we have to look at it. No one said we’re going to do anything. Reading whatever Charles wants us to read doesn’t mean we’re back in business. I do miss it, I have to admit. Be honest, the rest of you do, too,” Nikki said.

“I can’t argue with you there,” Isabelle agreed. “Here comes our food.”

The luncheon talk consisted of listening to Isabelle’s plans for the renovation of Annie’s newest acquisition with input from the girls that she considered helpful but saying their input was not exactly what she had in mind.

The easy banter continued right up until the coffee and chocolate mousse arrived, along with a chubby reporter from the
News,
who looked like he’d just stopped in for some takeout.

Maggie, who professed to have eyes in the back of her head and hearing that was equaled only by Harry Wong’s, waited until she heard the tiniest of clicks before she hopped off her chair and confronted the startled reporter. She snatched the camera, dropped it on the floor, stomped on it, and said, “Oops!”

The reporter started to curse loudly and ripely.

“None of that! This is a family restaurant. My friends and I were having a nice, peaceful luncheon until you started taking our picture. We do not like having our picture taken. You are invading our privacy. We do not like having our privacy invaded. Here,” she said, rummaging in her backpack for a roll of bills. Maggie shoved them into the reporter’s shirt pocket along with a burn phone Yoko had used to take a picture of all of them at the table, then gathered up the bits and pieces of the camera. “I paid for it. I own it. Now get out of here before I call someone who will make you leave.” The chubby reporter scurried out the door, all eyes on him and his hasty retreat.

Maggie looked around at the wide-eyed diners and apologized for upsetting their lunch. She summed it up by saying, “I’m so sorry, but my friends and I are private people.”

“Well, damn,” Kathryn said. “I thought the object was to have our picture in his paper.”

“I think what I just did was for theatrics. I slipped the burn phone in his pocket. Now that scuzzy paper will print all kinds of stuff and get people to wonder even more about what is going on. It seemed like a good idea at the time. This mousse is really good, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, here, have mine.” Yoko laughed.

“Maggie gobbled it down, waved for the check, and said, “Lunch is on the
Post,
ladies. This was fun. Let’s do it again next week. Gotta go and see if there’s some more trouble I can get into.” She signed her name with a flourish, waved, and was out the door before the others could catch their breaths.

“Well, that was exciting,” Nikki said as she gathered up her purse and umbrella. “See you guys tomorrow night out at the farm.”

The manager of the restaurant looked at his assistant and whispered, “Are those women who just left here who I think they are?”

“Uh-huh.”

A second later the manager of the restaurant was on the phone with his wife, who was the chairwoman of the District’s Democratic party.

Alphabet City, also known as the nation’s capital, started to buzz the moment the restaurant manager ended the phone call to his wife, which just went to prove Maggie’s theory that the most powerful method of spreading gossip was by word of mouth.

Myra looked up just as she threw a stick for Lady and her pups to retrieve. The dogs bounded away as Annie walked out to the yard.

“Annie! I thought you’d be taking a bubble bath and getting ready for your big date. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you out here. Is something wrong? You don’t look real happy right this minute.”

Lady returned the stick, her pups yelping behind her. Myra threw it again, and the dogs raced off. “Let’s go up on the terrace. We can have some ice tea. I was bored so that’s why I’m down here with the dogs, but I think they’re getting tired, which was my object when I came out here. I so wish I had half of their energy,” Myra babbled as she climbed the steps to the terrace and poured tea into glasses. “Talk to me, Annie.”

“I’ve been reading up on Scotland Yard. I tried to come up with a bio on this guy Fergus, and I’m not getting a feel for him. I need a feel for him, Myra; otherwise, this whole thing is going to be a big bust. He’s got the edge. I’m an open book; he can Google me and know everything about me in minutes. I am notable, as you so often remind me.”

“What exactly is it that you want to know about this man? His work ethic? His successes at the Yard? His personal life?”

“The whole ball of wax, Myra. How am I supposed to keep up a conversation if I don’t know anything about him, and, for the umpteenth time, I do not think for one minute that Fergus Duffy is interested in me as a person. Socially, that is.”