4. The Jury Page 10

  Jack shook his head. “No, the last I heard was that Judge Easter was looking forward to stepping down. I always liked her. She’s never been appealed and that’s a plus in my book. Says a lot for the judge, too. Wonder why.”

  “No clue. That’s all Jenny said. She’s going to call the baby Barbara Caroline if it’s a girl and, if it’s a boy, Brad is going to name him Joshua Adam. Strong names. You up for a slice of that peach pie on the counter?”

  Jack laughed. “Only if it has two scoops of vanilla ice cream.” He wiggled his hand in the waitress’ direction. She walked over, poured more coffee and took their dessert order.

  The couple talked about Jenny, Allison Banks, and some of the court cases that were under way and in the newspapers throughout their dessert. When they were finished, Nikki looked Jack in the eye and said, “I don’t want to have to worry about you, Jack. Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I hope so. I can’t see those gold shields scaring off the newspaper. If anything, it will just whet their appetite. Am I going to get beat up again? My guess would be they’ll take a shot at it. I just have to be prepared. Have a little faith in me, OK?”

  “OK, Jack. I’m still going to worry. Be careful.”

  “I will. Guess you have to get back, huh?”

  “I should. I’d like to stay but I don’t want to arouse suspicion among the girls. Myra…I’m not sure Myra bought my story of going shopping. I bought a ton of stuff I don’t even need. Just so you know, Jack, I’m walking a tightrope.”

  Jack nodded as he peeled bills off his money clip. “I do know, and I worry about you as much as you worry about me. What’s wrong with this picture? Are we ever going to get married?”

  “God, I hope so. I still have my wedding dress. And I still have this,” Nikki said, pulling out her engagement ring from under her sweatshirt. “When this is all over — and it will be over at some point, Jack — then we can talk about it.”

  “OK, that’s good enough for me. Be careful, OK?”

  “You got it. Same goes for you.”

  They held hands as they walked out of the café.

  Jack kissed Nikki when they reached her car. It was a long, sweet kiss that spoke of many things. “I’ll call you in five minutes. I love you,” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted toward his car.

  “Me too. I mean, I love you, too,” Nikki said, laughing.

  Neither one of them saw the three men in the black Chevy Suburban.

  Eleven

  The women looked at one another across the kitchen table, their expressions blank. Nikki knew their thoughts were on her and what they considered her odd behavior. Well, they’d just have to get over it.

  Nikki got up and pushed her chair back under the table. Her eyes on the clock, her voice cool, she said, “Time to go!”

  Like robots, the others got up and followed her out of the room.

  Kathryn, directly behind Nikki, touched her arm lightly and said, “You sound like you’re in a hurry, Nikki.”

  Nikki didn’t break her stride. “I am in a hurry, Kathryn. I have something to tell all of you but I didn’t want to say anything in the kitchen.” Kathryn was rapidly becoming a real itch that needed to be scratched. Nikki didn’t like the feeling at all.

  Myra’s smile was huge and welcoming when the women took their assigned seats around the table in the war room. They sat back to wait for the meeting to be called to order. The moment the formalities were over, Myra said, “Is there anything that needs to be discussed before we get down to work?”

  Nikki reached in her pocket for her cell phone and held it up. She turned her head slightly and said, “Charles, you should step down here so you can hear this conversation.”

  Charles set aside what he was working on to descend the steps to the round table. Nikki clicked the Play Message button. Jack Emery’s voice circled round the room, crystal clear.

  “Nikki, it’s Jack. I’m calling to tell you something. I’m probably a little late in reporting it, and I’m sure you already know, but on the off chance you don’t, my friend Ted Robinson, who works for the Post, was beaten up by those goons of Charles Martin’s. You know the ones, the guys with those special gold shields. The same guys who beat the living shit out of me. Well, this time, they went too far. Ted just got out of surgery. The surgeons had to remove his spleen. You know what, Nik; Ted could have died on the operating table. That would have made you and all those women, Myra included — and let’s not forget Charles — accessories to murder. But you’re not sorry. None of you are sorry. Don’t give it another thought. The paper is behind Ted on this. Before it was just me. I packed it in but I turned it over to Ted. You know those newshound guys. Well, Ted leads the pack. He’s pissed now. He liked his spleen. He didn’t want to have to give it up. The paper agrees. Consider this a shot over the bow. But anyway, listen, I gave it up. You win. You win, OK? I’m going back to the DA’s office. But know this, Nik. When — and I say when, not if — Ted breaks your story, I’m the one you’ll be looking at in the courtroom. That’s all I have to say.”

  Nikki clicked the Save Message button before she turned off her cell phone. She didn’t say a word. She leaned back and waited. It was a sobering moment for them all.

  Isabelle was the first to speak. “People have their spleens removed all the time and live long lives. What did he mean, he could have died on the operating table? Was there something else wrong with him? I think we need more details before we push the panic button.”

  Myra looked from one to the other. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was shaken at what she’d just heard. “I think what Mr. Emery meant was that any operation has risks. I think what he meant was that Mr. Robinson could have had an adverse reaction to the anesthetic, his heart could have given out, that sort of thing.”

  Alexis’s voice was edgy, almost angry. “If that had happened, Jack’s right, we’d be accessories to murder even though we didn’t hold the scalpel. I don’t like the sound of this.”

  Yoko sat up straighter in her chair. Her small hands were flat on the table. “He said — Mr. Emery, I mean — he said he wasn’t going to bother us anymore, or words to that effect. He said we win. That means we outsmarted him. He isn’t going to bother us anymore. I thought he sounded angry but truthful. So why did those men have to hurt the reporter? We would have outwitted him, too. We would have, wouldn’t we?”

  “Will you get real, Yoko! Robinson is a reporter,” Kathryn said. “They live for the scoop, the byline, the story above the fold. The man probably has sources Jack Emery can only dream about. The reporter is more of a threat than Jack ever was. If Robinson’s paper is behind him on this, then that means they believe the story Jack managed to spin to the reporter. All he did was pass the torch to someone more powerful with the means to come after us. The man isn’t dead; he survived. Sticking your nose into other people’s business is always dangerous. Wait a minute. I do have one other thing to say. The Cold War is over. How is it, Charles, that you still, after all these years, carry so much weight in the circles you used to travel? Who could possibly be interested in your activities all these years later?”

  “I’m sorry, Kathryn, I am not at liberty to discuss my past or my present personal affairs. When we formed the Sisterhood, you were all told that there would be things you wouldn’t like, that things would be done that might interfere with your personal beliefs, and you all agreed. You wanted vengeance and vengeance comes at a price. You all said you were willing to pay that price. Are you telling me now that you’re changing your minds?”

  The women all shook their heads, even Nikki.

  “Then what is it you want me to do, ladies?”

  “Nothing,” Alexis muttered. “We need you and your resources. We just don’t like hearing this kind of thing. I know that sounds foolish considering what we’re doing. My bottom line is I don’t want to go back to prison, so whatever you have to do, you do. You won’t hear another word from me.”

  The others
nodded and mumbled words that echoed Alexis’s sentiments.

  Kathryn turned to Nikki and tapped her arm. “Do you believe Jack? Do you believe he caved in and is no longer a threat?”

  “Yes. Jack never says anything he doesn’t mean. He will prosecute us if we get caught. And he’ll love every minute of it.”

  “Then we’ll just have to make sure we don’t get caught,” Kathryn said coldly.

  Nikki looked across the table at Myra. They locked gazes and Nikki knew in that one breathless moment that Myra knew she’d sold out to Jack. She knew but was keeping her own counsel. Mothers did that. Nikki didn’t relax until a small smile tugged at the corners of Myra’s mouth. Her thoughts switched from Myra to Jack as she wondered what he was doing.

  What Jack was doing would have surprised Nikki Quinn. With a handful of quarters and two prepaid phone cards, he was at the hospital’s one pay phone that actually took change and the prepaid cards in place of the automated credit gibberish he hated. No sense in giving the gold shields an edge if they were monitoring his cell-phone calls or his credit card usage.

  Jack knew he was safe from the shields here on the sixth floor, which was reserved for family members. Somehow, he’d managed to convince the nurses he was Ted’s half-brother. In the scheme of things, it was a small lie and one he could live with.

  The hospital was like any other: antiseptic-smelling, mind-numbing white walls and shiny tiled floors that showed your reflection. Right now it was hushed and quiet with most of the patients either sleeping or getting ready to sleep. The perfect time for his allotted five-minute visit on the hour. If Ted was sleeping, he’d leave and make his phone calls. He opened the door and poked his head in. The small fixture over the bed cast Ted in an artificial light. Jack stumbled as he remembered a scene just like this not too long ago at his mother’s bedside. He’d been so angry that night, angry with the doctors, angry with God and everyone in the universe for taking his mother from him. Tonight, he was just plain old angry.

  “Hey, buddy, you awake?” Jack whispered.

  “No, I’m sound asleep. Jesus, can’t I get away from you even here in this hospital?”

  “No. No, you can’t. I’m going to get those bastards and you get first crack at them. But only if there’s anything left after I get done with them. You in pain?”

  “Hell yes, I’m in pain. This is a morphine drip in my arm. Go home, Jack. Let me die in misery.”

  “You aren’t going to die. You have to be old and sick to die, like my mother. And you’re meaner than cat shit, Ted, so God doesn’t want someone like you. Think about grassy meadows and wildflowers and that woman you’ve been seeing who you think no one knows about. By the way, where is she?”

  “Shut up, Jack. I want to hate you for this pain. Stop being nice to me. The first thing I’m gonna do when I recover is to kick your ass all the way to the Canadian border.”

  “That’ll be the day. Listen, I only have a few more minutes. That old dragon out there watches the clock. So, do you want to hear my plan or not? By the way, I fed your cats and cleaned out the litter box. I will continue to do that until you get out of here.”

  “No, Jack, I do not want to hear your plan. What is it? You really cleaned out the litter box and fed my cats?”

  “Before I tell you, you have to agree to let me use you as bait. Yeah, yeah, I did that. It was the least I could do. They hiss and snarl a lot.”

  Ted made a funny sound. Alarmed, Jack stood up and shouted, “What? What’s wrong?” Then he realized Ted was laughing, or rather trying not to laugh. “Stop! Lie still, you’ll do damage to your stitches.”

  Ted made the sound again. “Crazy glue and clamps. You’re a dipshit, Emery.”

  “Guess that means you don’t want to be the bait, huh?”

  The dragon nurse opened the door. “Out!” she said adamantly. Her finger pointed to the door and Jack scurried through it.

  “OK,” he said. “I’ll be the bait!”

  Jack looked at his watch as he made his way to the telephone in the waiting room. He fished around in his pocket for his stash of quarters and prepaid phone cards. He was still up, so that meant everyone else should still be up answering their phones.

  Voices on the other end of the phone variously threatened to kill him, maim him, strangle him and slit his throat when they answered.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s eight minutes past midnight. Now, let me tell you why I’m calling.”

  Ninety minutes later, Jack hung up the phone, his pile of coins seriously depleted, his phone cards minus half their minutes.

  At one forty-five in the morning, Jack Emery exited the hospital lobby and sprinted down the walkway to the parking lot. He unlocked his car, climbed in and started the engine. Even though the night was cool and damp, he drove with the window down. He was two blocks away when he knew he had a tail. He leaned his arm on the open door as his middle finger shot upward. He drove that way all the way to Nikki’s house.

  Jack parked his car on the quiet street, five spaces up from the house. He looked around to see if a car followed him down the dark street. It would be just like those cowardly shields to ambush him.

  Some of the houses had their stoop lights on. Across the street there was a dim yellow light in the front part of the house. Somewhere off to his left, he heard a trash can bounce on the sidewalk. Probably a stray cat looking for food. There were no night sounds tonight, probably because it was too blustery. The birds were socked away in the trees, knowing it would rain before morning.

  Jack loped up the steps that led to the front door. He fumbled with the key and finally made contact. The voice, when he heard it, sounded like it was at the foot of the brick steps.

  “Good night, Mr. Emery.”

  Jack whirled around but didn’t see anyone in the blackness. He made a mental note to leave the stoop light on, day and night, and to buy a whole bag full of light bulbs.

  “The same to you, you son of a bitch!” Jack slammed the door, bolted it and then shot home the two vertical locks, top and bottom. But he was realistic enough to know no amount of bolts could keep the shields out if they wanted in.

  Twelve

  It started out as one of those dreary, lazy days when the sisters met in the kitchen for breakfast. Then the rain came in torrents. From that point on, the day turned into what the women later referred to as the day from hell.

  Charles stepped aside as the women carried their breakfast plates to the dishwasher. He was so quiet, they all knew something was on his mind. When he spoke, they stopped what they were doing to stare at him, their expressions tense and tight.

  “I have some…bad news. It seems the Barringtons, as we know them, disappeared sometime yesterday. When I say disappeared, I mean just that. They walked out of their apartment at the Watergate with the clothes on their backs. At some point during the night, the horses that remained at the farm were taken away. The house is burning to the ground as we speak. I just saw it on our local news station. We’re upwind, so to speak, so didn’t hear the sirens. The smoke is traveling in another direction because of the storm we’re presently experiencing.”

  No one said anything. Yoko leaned over to place her plate in the dishwasher. It clinked against another plate, the only sound to be heard in the kitchen.

  Charles looked pointedly at Nikki, waiting for her to say something.

  “Is that your way of telling me my mission is off for the moment? What about Allison and the judge? If we can get to them, they might lead us to the Barringtons. Isn’t it worth a shot?”

  Charles shrugged. He’d worked so many long hours setting up the plan to deal with the Barringtons. He didn’t like to work piecemeal projects. When you deviated from a given plan, something always went awry. He said so.

  Nikki’s voice was cold and bitter. “So does that mean I go on hold for the moment and we pick someone else? Is that what it means, Charles?”

  Charles didn’t respond to the question. “We’ll reconvene
in the war room in forty-five minutes. We can discuss matters and vote at that time.” Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. Again, no one said anything as they returned to what they had been doing.

  When the phone rang again, no one made a move to answer it. Finally, on the eighth ring, Myra picked up the portable phone and said, “Hello.” The others continued to tidy up the kitchen.

  The sound they all heard was somewhere between a whimper and a moan as Myra dropped the phone and slid to the floor. Alarmed, the women rushed forward.

  “Go get Charles!” Nikki barked as she cradled Myra in her arms.

  No one thought to pick up the phone until strange noises could be heard coming from across the room where it had slid. Isabelle picked it up and spoke softly. She listened, her eyes growing wide. Somehow she managed to say, “Thank you,” before she clicked the off button.

  “That was…that was a man named Brad Kelly. He said…what he said…was that Jennifer and…and the baby are gone.”

  “What does that mean? Gone where?” Alexis shrilled, not liking the look she was seeing on Isabelle’s face.

  Isabelle swallowed hard just as Kathryn and Charles raced into the room. The women scattered to make room for them.

  Isabelle struggled to clear her throat. “It means Jennifer and the baby are dead. This man Brad said he was taking Jennifer to the hospital when he skidded on an oil slick in the rain. One of those big delivery trucks hit him head-on. He’s in the hospital himself but said he was all right.”

  Nikki rocked back on her heels, her face as white as the refrigerator she stood next to. Jenny and her baby were gone. Just like Barbara and her baby. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. But it was, and she knew it. Dazed with what she’d just heard and at what she was feeling, Nikki walked to the door, opened it, and walked outside into the rain that was sluicing against the house. Kathryn followed her.