Authors: Fern Michaels
“He also didn’t figure that you and Annie would incapacitate Fish and Stu as quickly as you did,” Myra said. “He was counting on them to keep him safe. What a silly, stupid man he is.”
“Ah, here come the boys,” Maggie said. “Do we need more coffee? Dessert?”
“I’ll have another piece of that banana pineapple upside-down cake,” Elias said.
“No, he won’t. He’ll have a sugar-free mint,” Nellie said.
To Annie’s dismay, the conversation returned to her date with Fergus Duffy. She turned a bright pink as everyone chimed in at once to offer additional advice. When she had had enough teasing, Annie held up both hands, a signal that all conversation should cease.
“Listen up, all of you. I think I can handle Fergus Duffy all by myself. If I need any of you, you’re just a phone call away. Are we all clear on this?”
“Yes, ma’am, we are clear on that,” Harry Wong said.
M
yra set the paper aside when she heard the sliding door to the terrace open. She looked up, her eyes full of questions. “You’re late today, Annie.”
Annie sat down, reached up to tilt the sun umbrella over the table, and smiled. “I’ve been on the phone all morning. I looked out the window earlier but didn’t see you. We need to talk, Myra. Where’s Charles?” she said, picking up a small tuna sandwich.
Myra shrugged. “In the war room, I guess. I spent the morning out in the barn with the vet. Dogs are all fine, and we managed to corral a lot of the barn cats and give them their shots. It was a busy morning. What do you want to talk about, Annie?”
Annie gulped at her glass of ice tea. “This and that, more that than this. What’s going on in the world?” she said, pointing to the paper.
“Well, it seems the president got a clean bill of health. She had the flu. The White House issued a statement saying she has returned to her full-time schedule. And she got a dog. A girl dog, and she named it Cleo. Also, dog gifts have been flooding into the White House. The dog is a German shepherd rescue, more or less, and she said she’s going to train it herself. The dog is trained, but she’s going to train it to live in the White House. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just repeating what I heard on the news.” Myra sniffed to show what she thought of that statement. “Other than that, the world is pretty much the same as it was yesterday when the paper arrived. What do you want to talk about, Annie?” she asked a second time.
Annie finished her glass of ice tea and poured another. She leaned across the table, and said, “I want to talk about my
date
tomorrow. If you believe for one minute Fergus whatever his last name is is interested in me, I have a couple of bridges I can sell you. Besides, he’s not my type, and I know I’m not his type. I played along the other day with the girls because it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
“By the way, Myra, did you happen to notice anything in today’s edition that said the president was hosting some kind of meeting with some of those loony-tune guys who head up all those alphabet agencies?”
Myra bit down on her lower lip. Her hand automatically went to the strand of pearls at her neck, a sign that she was under stress. “I guess I missed that, Annie. Did you read the paper online?”
“I did. Today at four o’clock. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner. A quick in and out, possibly a thirty-minute meeting to discuss … something.”
Myra gripped the pearls. “What do you think that something is? Do you know something, Annie?”
“For heaven’s sake, Myra, how could I
know
anything? After all, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is chock-f of secrets. When they put it in the paper, it is no longer secret. I did call Maggie, who put Ted and Joseph on it. She was just as suspicious as I was, more so with Fergus wanting to have dinner with me. She’s going to have Ted and Joseph show up where we have dinner and they’ll run the picture in the Life section of the paper. Something is going on, or else something is in the works. I feel it. Hell, Myra, I can
smell
it.”
“I wish you’d stop talking in riddles, Annie. What? Are you sure you just aren’t jittery about your dinner date? White House business is not our business. We’re done with all of that.”
“No, we are not done with that, Myra, and you damn well know it. We aren’t done with
that
until Hank Jellicoe is caught.”
“Well, dear, according to Charles, that is not going to happen. He said Hank is too smart. He said the only way Hank will get caught is if Hank wants to get caught. Period. End of Hank Jellicoe.”
Annie laughed, a strange sound that held no merriment. “And you
believe
that? From here on in, Myra, I’m going to pretend I don’t even know you.”
Myra had the good grace to look chagrined.
Annie relented. “It’s okay, Myra. Sometimes you just can’t fix stupid. I’m not saying you’re stupid, but I am saying you need to be more alert, more with it, as the girls say. We don’t want them coming down on us for being old with antiquated thinking, now, do we?”
“God forgive me, and God forgive me for being stupid,” Myra said with a bite to her voice. She stared across the meadow of green grass as Lady and her pups, who were on the verge of leaving puppyhood behind, romped and played.
“As long as one of us has her wits about her, we’ll be okay. By the way, after dinner with Fergus tomorrow, I am taking the red-eye.”
“You’re leaving me here alone!” There was such outrage in Myra’s voice, Annie blinked, then blinked again.
“Whoa, there, Myra. I don’t live here, I’m your guest. It’s time for me to leave. I have to start thinking about putting down roots someplace. Since I turned my plantation over to Joseph and his family, I’m more or less rootless. Oh, yes, I have that penthouse in Vegas, but it doesn’t feel like home. I want someplace where I can make a mess, putter around, get some dogs and cats of my own. Maybe someplace in the desert. You could come with me, you know. That’s if Charles will let you come. I do have to plan Kathryn’s party and could use some help. I could get one of those party planners, but then it becomes impersonal, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean, but what did you mean when you said if Charles will
let
me go with you?”
Annie smiled, and said sweetly, “Just what I said. You are married, Myra. You always check with Charles before you do anything. I’m just saying …”
“Well, you can stop saying whatever it is you aren’t saying. I can do whatever I want, and Charles would never stop me. Shame on you, Annie, for even thinking I don’t have a mind of my own. I will be happy to accompany you to Las Vegas. And, no, I do not have to
ask
Charles, but I will
tell
him I’m going. It’s the right thing to do. Now,” she said briskly, “tell me what we’re really going to be doing besides arranging Kathryn’s fortieth birthday party.”
Well, that worked rather nicely. Annie smiled.
Myra stared across the table at her old friend. “You tricked me. Dammit, am I that gullible?”
“You said it, I didn’t.” Annie laughed. “I’m so glad you decided to go with me to Vegas.”
Myra snorted. “Why do you keep looking at your watch?”
“Because …” Annie said dramatically, “Nellie called me a little while ago and said she’s coming over. She sounded in a snit over something. Maybe something went awry with Elias. I have to say she sounded upset. Nellie rarely gets upset, and right now she seems to be late.”
“No, I’m not late, your watch is fast. I let myself in, ladies. Some watchdog you have there, Myra. The five of them didn’t even pick up my scent,” retired federal judge Nellie Easter said as she plopped down on one of the deck chairs. She winced, then squirmed till she got comfortable. “My hips are telling me it’s going to rain before the end of the day.”
Myra and Annie looked upward at the clear blue sky. According to Nellie, her new hips were never wrong.
“So, what brings you over here in the middle of the day?” Myra asked as she poured ice tea into a frosty glass she pulled out of the minicooler at her feet. “The sandwiches are tuna or salmon. Help yourself.”
“Elias. Elias is what brought me over here.”
Myra risked a glance at Annie, who rolled her eyes and looked smug.
“He’s been acting very secretive the past few days. And this morning he said he had to go into town. We all know Elias does not go into town unless it is to go to someone’s funeral, and there are no funerals going on. I checked. He even took that crazy phone he uses into the bathroom when he took a shower. But I outfoxed him. I turned the hot water up and steamed up the bathroom and sneaked in. I checked his phone, and he’s been getting calls from blocked numbers. Quite a few of them, and one of them came from the White House. He’s done with all that. Or he said he was. Now I’m not so sure. I think we should have someone follow him when he leaves the farm. Do you think Maggie could arrange … a … tail?”
Annie’s expression clearly said it all as far as Myra could see. “Funny you should mention that, Nellie. Annie and I were just talking about how strange we think things are at the moment. Annie’s got herself convinced her date tomorrow evening with Fergus … for some reason neither of us can remember his last name, is about more than dinner.”
“Duffy. His last name is Duffy,” Nellie volunteered. “You can’t go out to dinner with someone whose last name you don’t know. It just isn’t done, Annie. Remember now, his name is Duffy. I also think Myra is right, Annie, and I mean no offense. Why were you singled out, and what is he doing here in the States anyway? He’s from Scotland Yard.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself, Nellie,” Annie grumbled.
“The president was sick, the flu or something like the flu, according to the paper, and I am thinking she had about ten days to sit up there in the presidential quarters. I bet she did a lot of thinking while she was recuperating. And time to think about Hank Jellicoe and that crazy engagement she had going on back when she granted our pardons. I think Annie is right; something is going on or will be soon. Now that you tell us Elias as former director of the FBI is getting calls from the White House, I think Annie’s instincts are right. Something is about to happen,” Myra said.
“But the big question is … is it any of our business? Does it involve us? We aren’t the vigilantes anymore,” Annie said. “We’ve been reduced to planning birthday parties for entertainment.”
“We will always be the vigilantes. If not physically, at least in spirit,” Myra said, her tone haughty and defiant.
Annie sighed happily. “I love it when you talk like that, Myra. It gives me hope. Of what, I have no clue. So where does all of that leave us?”
“Right where we were before Nellie arrived, except you have to call Maggie to put a tail on Elias.”
Myra turned to Nellie, and asked, “How alert is Elias these days?”
“I don’t think he thinks I know anything. He’s been retired from the FBI for quite a while now. I don’t think he’s on high alert, if that’s what you mean. I don’t think it will occur to him that someone might be following him. I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary to make him suspicious. I always go riding around this time of day if I’m up to it. I can tell you this, though, I know Elias, and he was
not
happy with whatever it is he’s going to be doing at four o’clock. What really made him unhappy is that he has to wear a suit and tie. I saw his outfit hanging on the bedroom door, his best suit. He also polished his wing tips. And he washed his car this morning. That alone tells me he’s going to the White House. You know, spit and polish. Look your best, that kind of thing.”
“So, what you’re saying is, this is something new. Elias doesn’t get called on for consultations or anything like that?” Annie asked.
“Not since we’ve been married. At least that I know of. Elias shares most things, and the fact that he didn’t share what this is about really does concern me. I don’t want the administration dragging him into something he doesn’t want any part of. And trust me, he was like a wet hornet when all this went down. He does not want to be part of it.”
“I’ll call Maggie and alert her now. I left my phone in the house. Now, don’t you two talk about me while I’m gone,” Annie called over her shoulder.
“I hate to tell you this, but you aren’t that interesting, dear,” Myra said.
“Oh, yeah, well, chew on this one. Who is it that has a dinner date with Fergus Duffy? Aha! Beat it to death, Myra.”
“She does have a point, Myra,” Nellie said. “By the way, I hate ice tea. Don’t you have anything stronger, like maybe bourbon?”
“I do, but you’re driving and the sun is hot and, no, I’m not going to be responsible for your falling off your horse on the way home. Drink the ice tea and pretend it’s bourbon,” Myra shot back.
Nellie sighed and leaned back in her deck chair. “I heard yesterday that the Needleman estate is putting the farm up for sale. I hope we like the new owners, whoever they may turn out to be. We certainly wouldn’t want strangers knowing our business, Myra. Maybe you should make an offer, or perhaps Annie would be interested. That way, we’d have a lock on the two-thousand-plus acres and all the privacy we could ever want.”
Myra’s mind raced. The perfect solution for Annie. “Do you know the asking price?”
“Actually I do know. They lowered it from thirty-seven million to thirty-six million. I didn’t even know it was for sale until Elias came home from the barbershop and told me. In this economy, according to Elias’s barber, thirty-five million should do it. The estate is eager to sell.”
“Annieeeee!” Myra bellowed, excitement ringing in her voice. Annie came on the run.
“What? My God, Myra, that scream would wake the dead! What’s wrong?”
Myra told her. She wound down with, “You said you wanted roots. Well, the soil on that farm is about as rich as you can get to put down some good, strong, healthy roots. The house itself is a real hot mess and will need a lot of work, but that’s a job for Isabelle. It’s been sitting empty for about seven years now, so that should tell you something. We’ll be neighbors. The three of us. It doesn’t get any better than that. Buy it, Annie. Please.”