Weekend Warriors (10 page)

“Are you going to file charges, Nik? Tell me now.”

“You really pissed me off back there in the judge’s office, Jack. But, to answer your question, no, probably not. I know a thing or two about gut instinct. I’m sorry to say I never suspected she would do this. You’re right about her having help. Are you going to check out her relatives?”

“We’re on it. I guess Myra is going to be upset losing all that money.”

“Yes, she’s very upset. She’s still grieving over Barbara. All she could see was that that man killed a mother’s child. We’re discussing the case, Jack.”

“It’s hard not to. Let’s talk about us.”

“There is no
us,
Jack. There’s just you and me. Separate people. We aren’t a couple any longer.”

“That’s your fault, Nik. You never should have taken the case. If you hadn’t been so damn bull-headed, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now at each other’s throats.”

“It’s not like the guy was innocent. He confessed and his DNA proved it. If it hadn’t been for your boss blowing it, the guy would have gotten the death penalty. I asked you to pass on it, Jack, and you said no. If you hadn’t been so power hungry to get your name in the papers and your face on the televison news, we wouldn’t be sitting here. You’re right about that.” She drained her beer bottle and plopped it on the table. “Thanks for the beer. See you around.”

Jack reached for her hand. “Listen, Nik. I’m hurting here. Can’t we make peace? We had a good thing going before this damn case came up. We were the golden couple around town. Now there are days when I can’t remember what you look like. Let’s just say the hell with everything for the moment and go over to my apartment.”

“Like a quick roll in the sack is going to change things. No thanks, Jack.” Her stomach rolled itself into a tight knot when she saw an ugly look transform his features.

Nikki reached over to retrieve her purse and briefcase. She was so close to Jack’s face she could see his five o’clock shadow. “You put a tail on me and I’ll have your ass swinging from the flagpole outside the courthouse, so don’t even think about it. I also reserve the right to file those charges we discussed earlier. Fuck up and you’ll be begging me to defend you. Of course I’ll say no. I don’t need another loser of a case in my career. You know Jack, we could have cut a deal. Ten years, five off with good behavior. Your way, it was life and she pays the price for the guy killing her daughter. That’s going to stick in my throat forever.

“By the way, the redhead was your sister. She dyed her hair last month. We met in the beauty shop.” She smiled. “See ya, sweet cheeks,” she said, tweaking his chin.

Jack waved his empty beer bottle at the waitress. While he waited, he whipped out his cell phone to call his assistant. “Listen to me, Harry, and don’t say anything. I want you to put a tail on Nikki Quinn. I want a bug in her car and one in her apartment. I have the key. I know it’s illegal, you asshole. Do it anyway. I want one in her office, too. As soon as possible. Don’t screw it up, Harry.”

 

 

Nikki walked into her law offices on G Street. She’d worked hard to build her firm and she was proud of it. She liked the idea of an all-woman law firm and she’d recruited the best of the best. They were winding down now for the day. Time to go home to their families, who would welcome them with open arms. All of them, she knew, would be taking home work.

The office manager paused and said, “Tough break, Nik. You couldn’t have known, so don’t go blaming yourself. If you need any of us, just call. By the way, the university called. I left the message and a bunch of others on your desk. The mail’s there, too, along with a letter that came earlier by special messenger.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

Nikki walked into her office and sat down and kicked off her shoes. She eyed the mini-bar under the counter and decided another beer was in order. She scooted her swivel chair over to the bar and uncapped a beer. She slid the chair backward and then propped her feet on top of the desk. She rifled through the mail. Nothing urgent, nothing even remotely important. She sifted through the pink message slips. Like the mail, there was nothing urgent, nothing even remotely important except possibly the message from the university where she taught first-year law three days a week. The message read,
Call me up till 8:30 here at the office or home later.
It was signed by the Dean. She swigged from the bottle as she opened the gray envelope that had been delivered by a messenger.

Nikki took another long pull from the beer bottle before she ripped at the envelope. She frowned as she read it, wondering who she had to thank for it.

Nik walked over to the copy machine and slid Marie’s letter underneath the cover. She carried the original and the copy back to her desk. She dialed Jack’s cell phone number from memory. She didn’t bother with niceties.

“I just received a letter from Marie Lewellen. It came by messenger earlier today. Come by
now
and pick it up. I’ll have a copy hand delivered in the morning to Judge Olsen. Now, Jack. I’m getting ready to go back to the farm.” She hung up before he had a chance to reply.

Her next call was to the Dean at the university. Her gut told her she wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. She identified herself and waited while he inquired about her well-being. “I’m sorry, Nicole, but the board feels you are too controversial right now. A leave of absence until possibly the next semester was the board’s suggestion. At that time we will evaluate—”

“You’re firing me, is that it?” she pressed.

“A leave of absence with pay is not firing you, Nicole. We do hope that Mrs. Rutledge’s . . . the board feels . . .”

Nikki felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anger. “You’ll have my resignation first thing in the morning, Dean. I think it’s safe to say Mrs. Rutledge’s endowments will cease first thing in the morning. Have a nice evening, Dean. Like Myra said, everything comes with a price.” She hung up and looked around the room.

“Hey, Barb! I’m calling your name! Can you hear me? I could use a friend right now.”

“Yeah, and it’s splattering in all directions. Can you . . . what I mean is, do you know what’s going on, or do I have to tell you?”

“Jack is on his way over. We had a parting of the ways and I feel . . . awful. You never liked him, did you, Barb?”

“I already figured that out, Barb. I wouldn’t put it past him to bug my office and my apartment. Shit, I didn’t ask for my key back.”

“Yeah okay.”
Am I nuts! Am I really talking to dead people? I’m breaking the laws I swore to uphold by the dozen. Yeah, I’m nuts.

Jack Emery strode into her office and looked around. “Really nice digs, Nik. I know I say that every time I come here. Your rent must be half of what I earn in a year.”

No matter what he said, she wasn’t going to let him get to her. “Here, this is your copy. I keep the original. Check it over before you leave. This is the envelope it was delivered in. DBY Messenger Service on K Street. I don’t know when they got it or how they got it. Now, I’d like my key back.”

“Your key?” Jack hedged.

“Yeah, you know, the key to my apartment. I want it back and I want it back
now.”

“I don’t think I have it with me. Can I drop it off or mail it?”

“I don’t think so, Jack. Let me see your key ring.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“If I give you back the key that means it’s over. I don’t want it to be over. Give me a break here.”

“I want my key. If you don’t give it to me, I’m going home and calling a locksmith. I know one that’s open 24/7.”

Jack licked at his lips. “Okay, okay.” He fished in his pants for the keys and removed her key. He tossed it on the desk.

“Do you want a copy of both envelopes?”

“Yes.”

“No problem.”

“How about a beer?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way out. Perhaps another time. Thanks for coming by to pick this up. I knew you’d want to see it right away. I don’t want you to accuse me later on of obstructing justice. By the way, the university fired me today.”

To his credit, he looked shocked. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Nik. I really mean that.”

Nikki bent down to put on her shoes. “I’ll walk down with you.” She was careful to lock the door.

Outside in the cool evening air, they parted company. Nikki walked one way and Jack walked the other way.

Two days after Nikki’s late night, tearful return to McLean, Myra Rutledge woke from a sound sleep and knew immediately something was wrong. Her motherly instinct was kicking in. She lay quietly a moment, listening. Moonlight filtered through the crack in the drawn draperies. That meant the weather was okay. She couldn’t smell smoke. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped into her robe.

She looked down at the overlarge digital numbers on the bedside clock: 4:20. The house was quiet. Charles, night owl that he was, was probably in what they were now calling the War Room. She tiptoed down the back staircase to see Nikki sitting at the table, her head in her hands, a coffee cup in front of her. And she was smoking, something she rarely if ever did these days.

“Nikki, what’s wrong?” she whispered as she padded into the kitchen.

“Everything and nothing. Want a cigarette?”

The last thing Myra wanted was a cigarette. She reached for it, stuck it in her mouth and puffed as Nikki held the lighter to the tip. She coughed and sputtered but kept on puffing. “Talk to me, baby, tell me what’s wrong. Just start anywhere,” she said, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.

Nikki laughed. Myra was game for anything. “Let me get you some coffee. Maybe I’d better make some more. I’ve been sitting here since two o’clock just thinking.”

Her eyes watering from the cigarette smoke, Myra transferred the cigarette to the opposite side of her mouth. Smoke spiraled upward. “I’m a good listener, dear. Are you having second thoughts about what we’re doing?”

Nikki hitched the belt of her bathrobe higher and then yanked it tight. “In a way, but it’s not what you think. It bothers me that Jack came out here and saw the truck and all the cars. That’s for starters. At the moment he doesn’t have a clue, an inkling of any kind as to what we’re doing. He’s sharp, though. He’s a thinker. No grass grows under his feet. We had this . . . discussion. It wasn’t a fight. I wish it had been a fight. I made him give me back the key to my apartment. I had this crazy feeling he might try to bug it. Don’t ask me where that thought came from, Myra. I had the locks changed in case he had a duplicate key made.” She plucked at a yellowing leaf on the African violet sitting on the windowsill. Her index finger worked the soil to see if it was dry. It was. She held it under the faucet, wiped off the bottom and set it back on the windowsill.

“I think I was blind where he was concerned. He’s not who I thought he was, who I wanted him to be. He’s power hungry, Myra. He loves being on the tube and in the papers. He is so pissed that Marie split. And rightly so. He won’t give up where she’s concerned. He’s convinced I had something to do with it. Knowing him like I do, I know he has a tail on me. I know he’s going to bug my office, my apartment and probably my car. I know this, Myra, because he used to tell me about all the times he’s done it before. Just because we slept together and were planning on getting engaged won’t make one bit of difference. Can you just see the headlines? D.A. arrests lover and he has tears dripping down his cheeks. Yeah, he’d do that.” She reached for a cup in the cabinet. The minute the coffee stopped perking, she poured a cup for Myra.

“By the way, then the dean fired me. He didn’t say, ‘you’re fired’ but that’s what it meant. He wanted me to resign so I obliged him and the board.”

“Well, I fixed his wagon. I called him and told him the endowment was now null and void. Let him scurry around somewhere else for his money. He shouldn’t have done that to you. I won’t tolerate anyone taking advantage of my girl.”

Myra puffed furiously on the cigarette, clouds of smoke circling the kitchen. “What
do
you get out of these things?” she demanded

“All kinds of health problems. Look, I’m throwing them away,” Nikki said, tossing the cigarettes in the trash container under the sink.

Nikki sat down at the table, her hands cupping the mug full of fresh coffee. “I have to tell you something. You know me better than anyone else in the world. You’re the mother I never had. You took me in when I was a little girl and raised me like your own daughter. Do you see a flaw in me? You know, did you ever . . . think maybe I had a screw loose?”

“Good heavens, no. Why are you asking me such a thing?”

“Because . . . because . . . do you believe in spirits, dead people coming back and . . . helping, talking to you.”

“Oh, I see, this farm is finally getting to you, is that it? Dear, there are all kinds of spirits in this old place. They’re floating all around. I’ve learned to pay them no mind. They’re just restless and they did live here. If anything, they’ve given me a sense of security because I know they’re watching out for me. But to answer your other question, no they do not talk to me and no I haven’t really seen them. I feel their presence sometimes. It’s not a bad thing, dear.”

Nikki bit down on her lip. She’d almost confided in Myra about her little talks with Barbara. She was glad now she’d kept quiet. She sipped from the cup she was holding. She nodded. “Is everything on schedule, Myra?”

“As Charles says, we are on target. Kathryn and Yoko will be ready to leave for San Francisco as soon as Charles gets his cycle confirmations. Julia is . . . where she needs to be. She’ll be doing surgery on her two patients at seven o’clock. She’ll stay there for three days and then fly back here where they will do what needs to be done at which point she will then fly back to check on her patients, remove the sutures and then fly on to Los Angeles. Isabelle is now working out of the old summer pantry. She’s ready to leave on vacation the minute we give her the go-ahead. Alexis is in town replenishing her . . . supplies. She’ll fly out of Washington the minute everything is settled.”

“Shouldn’t I be doing something? I’m pretty much at loose ends, Myra. I turned my caseload over to my partners a few weeks ago. I’m not teaching now. I need something to do.”

“Charles would dearly love it if you would help him. He’s dying to show off all he’s done to someone who can appreciate his expertise. I would never admit this to Charles or anyone else, but that War Room absolutely terrifies me. All those computers, all that knowledge stored on those little squares. The different programs, the lights, the bells and whistles.” She shook her head, her arms flapping every which way.

“Does everyone have a laptop?”

Myra nodded. “Top of the line, according to Charles. He managed somehow to get what he calls a secure line. It’s a line that no one can bug. That means listen in on, dear. I believe they have them in all the big government buildings. It’s in case the girls have to call in. From a pay phone, of course. Although Charles did give them some kind of new cell phones. He held a class yesterday for two hours teaching them how to use it. It was all Greek to me.”

“After I shower, I’ll volunteer my services. Are you wishing your case was first, Myra?”

“I have to be realistic, dear. The man’s embassy returned him to China. There are billions of people in China. We could never touch him over there.”

“That’s what you think. Myra, the man comes from an influential family. If Charles hasn’t already done it, he can get on the information highway and pull him up, in I’d say no less than thirty minutes. I always wanted to see China,” Nikki smiled.

“Are you saying we won’t have to wait for him to return here at some point in time?”

“That’s what I’m saying, Myra.”

“They never let you out of those Chinese prisons,” Myra said.

“First you have to be caught and be in a prison,” Nikki said smugly. “That won’t happen. Yoko speaks Chinese. Fluently. Kathryn speaks Chinese and seven other languages. She told me she and her husband used to listen to the Berlitz tapes while on the road. She could brush up and be as fluent as Yoko when your time comes. She’s also a brown belt. So is Yoko. Alexis can make us all look oriental. The possibilities are endless. Now, you have something to think about and plan while we’re on the road or involved in a case.” She gave her a quick hug. “I’m going to take my shower now.”

Myra beamed, her eyes sparkling. “Nikki, Jack is so unworthy of you.”

“Tell that to my heart, Myra. From lovers to adversaries.” She shrugged.

“You always tell me everything happens for a reason, Nikki.”

Nikki carried her cup to the sink. “Myra, is there any way, any way at all, that Jack Emery can find Marie Lewellen and her family?”

“Absolutely none, dear. He will have to get his notoriety from some other case.”

“And they are going to earn a living . . . how?”

“Marie is going to make quilts. She does lovely work. Handmade quilts are outrageously expensive, as you know. Mr. Lewellen is going to make Shaker furniture and sell it on the Internet. He is so detail-oriented. He does magnificent work.”

Nikki burst out laughing. “And you’re going to buy it all up, is that it?”

“Only in the beginning until they get established. I’ll donate them all to the church bazaar at Christmastime,” Myra smiled.

“I love you, Myra Rutledge,” Nikki called over her shoulder as she made her way upstairs.

“And I love you, too, dear,” Myra called after her.

 

 

Ten days later, the eighteen-wheeler gobbled up the miles on the interstate as Kathryn Lucas and Yoko Akia sat in companionable silence, the Belgian Malinois nestled between them. They spoke from time to time about the highway, the miles to a gallon the rig got, the scenery and the different loads of merchandise she had transported over the years.

They’d been on the road for two days and still hadn’t discussed what had transpired back in Virginia or what would transpire once they got to California.

“We’re going to stop at the next road stop, Yoko. Fish some money out of that shoebox. I’ll need to fill up and it’s time to eat. Remember now, don’t do anything to call attention to yourself. This is a straight, legitimate run but we still don’t want to give anyone anything to remember.”

“I understand, Kathryn. Three hundred dollars should be sufficient,” she said, reaching for the Ferragamo shoebox. She snapped the rubber band back into place and set the box back on the floor. She settled her baseball cap, a gift from Kathryn, more firmly on her head. She looked like a child of thirteen when in fact she was thirty-six.

“Are you going to keep driving, Kathryn? It must be very lonely for you with no one to talk to. I understand you talk to Murphy but he does not answer you back.”

“It is lonely. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things but I’m so in debt I have to keep doing this. If I live to be a hundred, I’m not sure I can ever get caught up. Alan’s medical bills were in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. If I don’t drive, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t see myself sitting in some engineering office working on something I probably wouldn’t like. I’ve been on the road and in the open too long. They’d probably fire me after the first week, if I lasted that long.”

Yoko stared out the window. “What state are we in again?”

“Kansas. We’ll be bypassing Oakley soon. There’s a decent stop ahead and the food is pretty good. They don’t have rice, though, Yoko, and they aren’t big on fresh vegetables.”

“It is all right, Kathryn. When in Rome . . .” she giggled.

“You were so worried about being away the other day. How did you manage the time with the nursery? Who’s going to take care of it?”

“A family friend. My husband is in California. I hope I do not run into him. He is a cinematographer. A very good one. I, too, am fond of the camera but the nursery pays the bills. I like working with the earth, with flowers and vegetables. I told my husband a fib. No, it was an outright lie. I said I had family matters to take care of and he would see me when I finished my business. When I thought about it, I realized it was not a lie. One day it will be my turn to avenge my mother but in order to do that I must be patient and help those who go before me. My husband is very modern in his thinking. He wants me to have my life, my space. We talked about this very much. Many times. It is I who worry. I will not let you down.”

“We got off to a rocky start that first day. I’m sorry.” Kathryn reached across to pat Yoko’s arm.

“I understand. We were all jittery, not knowing what to expect.”

“What we did, what we more or less expected, did it turn out the way you wanted? I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” Kathryn said.

“I think so. I think each of us wanted our case to be first. I am content to wait my turn. I see now how things will work. Charles appears to have all the right connections. He must have been a very powerful man when he was in service to the Queen. I’m happy that you were chosen first, Kathryn. You have carried too many things too long on your shoulders.”

“But you don’t approve of the punishment.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“I’ve had time to think about it and sleep on it. I now agree. However, I think the others are wrong about the men only going after you because the circumstances just happened to be right that night. I think those men have done this many times before. I think they feel confident enough, macho enough, to believe they won’t get caught. And they haven’t been caught. Until now. I think I will be proved right.”

Kathryn concentrated on the overhead signs on the interstate. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Yoko. Nothing will make me feel better until those bastards get what they deserve.”

“It will happen. We must stay calm, centered. You know that from your martial arts teachings. I like this truck,” she said suddenly.

“I can teach you to drive it when this is all over if you like,” Kathryn smiled.

“My legs are far too short. I am content to ride . . . lookout.”

“Shotgun,” Kathryn laughed. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Yoko scratching Murphy behind his ears. The big dog was in seventh heaven with all the attention he was receiving.