5. Sweet Revenge Read online

  Seventeen

  Myra called the meeting to order. The women fell quiet.

  “We need an update, girls. Nikki, let’s start with you.”

  Nikki smiled. And then she laughed out loud. “Can you imagine Rosemary Hershey walking into my law firm and saying she can’t schedule another appointment until she consults the stars? That’s exactly what she did. Aside from the fact that Bobby Harcourt filed for divorce and filed to dissolve his partnership with Miss Hershey, that’s about all I can report. She wanted to know if she could get alimony. She refuses to buy him out at the price he wants. That’s another way of saying she wants it all. She has no intention of allowing him to buy her out. It’s stalemate. We’re going through the motions, filing the appropriate papers when we get around to it. We’re just stalling her. She calls the office every ten minutes for progress reports. That tells us she’s a control freak. She looks like she’s under a great deal of stress. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair looks like the bad end of a mop. Her nails are chipped and cracked, her clothes mussed and rumpled.

  “The attorney we assigned to handle her case summed it up this way. Rosemary sees herself losing control and she doesn’t like it. Nor does she take suggestions well. She’s used to jerking everyone’s strings, not the other way around. She’s actually worried about appearances, how her little community of architects will view her once they find out Bobby filed for divorce and wants to dissolve the company. During her last phone call she said she was going into the spin mode. Knowing the woman’s background the way we do, it could mean anything.” Nikki laughed again. “The only thing she didn’t have a problem with was writing out the retainer check for twenty-five grand. Oh, one more thing Opal, the attorney handling Rosemary’s case, said that the lady — and she used the word lightly — was original sin in a pair of slut shoes.”

  Kathryn laughed out loud, the others joining in. “So the lady jumped him, humped him and then he dumped her! How fitting!” she guffawed.

  Isabelle’s cheeks flamed. She hated hearing anything negative that pertained to Bobby Harcourt. “She’s on the edge, that’s for sure. No one was more surprised than I was when she showed up at the office. Of course she blames me. And Bobby. She’s way off base in that regard. She’s never been frightened before but she’s frightened now. She was shaking all over. I loved seeing her like that because I lived that way for years. I’m glad she’s experiencing a little of what I went through — and all because of her greed.”

  “What goes around, eventually comes around,” Alexis said.

  “Yoko, do you have anything to add to what the others just said?”

  “In my opinion, Miss Hershey is a walking time bomb. Her eyes glitter with greed. The animosity between the couple was obvious; I felt uncomfortable. Mr. Harcourt was very professional. A gentleman. It is hard to imagine the two of them together.”

  Kathryn’s face registered disgust. “It’s a business arrangement. Dollar signs are the bottom line.”

  Isabelle said, “That might be the way it is now, but that’s not the way it was in the beginning. Bobby was so hot for her he couldn’t see straight.”

  “Guess he got a wake-up call along the way, eh?” Kathryn said. “Furthermore, the man hasn’t been born that you can trust. He strayed, he played, and now he has to pay. Not that we’re going after him. He’s all grown up and can clean up his own mess. Alan used to say you never know what you have until you lose it. Bobby Harcourt is experiencing that now. You were the best thing that ever happened to him, Isabelle, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  Isabelle locked her gaze with Kathryn’s. “Don’t worry, I had my day in the sun with Bobby. You can’t go home again, I know that. If there’s a white knight in my life somewhere, he’ll find me on his own. So, where do we stand?”

  Myra took center stage. “My dinner party at the Silver Swan is right on schedule. We’ll announce the winning entry right after dinner. Isabelle, did you bring your designs?”

  Isabelle leaned over and picked up two long cylinders. She slid them across the table toward Myra, who nodded as she turned around to hand both cylinders to Charles.

  “Yoko, are you ready to go into phase one of Rosemary Hershey’s punishment? If you make one mistake, none of the rest of it will work. Can you do it?” Myra asked.

  All eyes turned to Yoko. She met the sisters’ gaze with unflinching intensity. “I can do it. I might need to…” she sought for the word she wanted, “tweak, yes, tweak my part just a little. Do not worry.”

  “That’s good enough for me, kiddo,” Kathryn said, slapping Yoko on the back. Yoko grinned from ear to ear. Praise of any kind from Kathryn was well worth waiting for.

  Myra looked down at her notes. “Kathryn and Alexis, are you both ready to do your part?”

  Kathryn made gnashing sounds with her teeth. “I am so ready, you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Me too,” Alexis agreed.

  Myra turned around to Charles. “Have you done your part, Charles?”

  “Not yet, Myra. For something of this…ah…magnitude, one must wait till the proper moment. If I jump the gun, it won’t bode well for our girls. I don’t anticipate any problems, though. Trust me, things will fall into place at the proper moment.”

  “I like to hear that, Charles. I always feel confident when you’re at the helm,” Kathryn quipped.

  Myra looked up at the three television monitors that sat side by side. Lady Justice in all her majesty towered over the table. “Nikki and I will not be actively participating in this punishment. It’s obvious that Miss Hershey will recognize me. We can’t be sure that she doesn’t know Nikki, even though she’s dealing with another attorney in her firm. Just let me say I have every confidence in all of you. In the meantime, we will continue with our mail campaign since it seems to be working.”

  Nikki eyed the women. She wished she knew more about psychology. Driving someone over the edge was something she wasn’t exactly comfortable with. Still, the plan seemed almost foolproof. All she could do was wait in case she was needed.

  “If there is no other business, I suggest we adjourn and meet up again on Friday,” Myra said.

  It was almost twilight, that mysterious time of day that surrounded the city in a grayish-purple light and would eventually lead to a black night. It was a time to be indoors where it was safe and cozy.

  Maggie Spritzer ran up the steps to Ted’s apartment building. She had a bad moment as she fumbled with the key, struggling to fit it into the lock, when she thought she heard someone call her name. No one in this neighborhood knew her. She’d just spoken to Ted, who said it would be another hour before he’d head home. Her heartbeat raced as the key finally made contact and she was inside. She turned around to look outside, but she couldn’t see anyone. The wind, she decided. Still, the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades twitched like mad.

  Never a coward, Maggie ran like hell, taking the stairs two at a time until she reached Ted’s floor. At the top, winded, she wondered why she hadn’t taken the creaking elevator. Because she didn’t want to be in such a confined area, that’s why. Sometimes, she admitted, she was a coward.

  Outside, she’d been freezing. Now she was dripping from her sprint up the stairs carrying her fully loaded backpack. When she dropped it to the floor, Mickey and Minnie got busy sniffing and trying to paw at the stiff canvas.

  Maggie dropped to her knees, not from exhaustion but from fear. She hated it that she was shaking. She picked up Mickey, or maybe it was Minnie, and tried to cuddle the fat, bushy-tailed cat, but it strenuously objected and sprang out of her arms. The other cat took that moment to leap into Maggie’s lap and immediately started to purr her pleasure.

  When Ted finally walked in the door, Maggie was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, cuddling with the cat in her lap. Tears streaked her cheeks.

  Ted dropped the shopping bag and ran to her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me, Maggie.”

  “It’s
just me, nerves of steel. I spooked myself. I thought I heard someone call my name when I got here. I’m sure it was the wind.”

  Ted sat back on his haunches. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen today? Are you sure you’re OK?”

  Maggie looked over at the man who was staring so intently at her. She realized right then how much she liked him. Maybe liked was too tame a word. For all her breeziness, her sharp tongue, her blasé attitude, she truly, truly cared about the reporter. She didn’t mean to say anything but somehow the words just tumbled out of her mouth. “I’m in love with you.”

  Minnie hissed and snarled as her owner’s jaw dropped.

  Ted grappled with the words he’d just heard. Well, this certainly changed things. This was where he was supposed to acknowledge the words and return them. That’s what Jack Emery would have done. Then he remembered that he hated Jack’s guts and that applied to his advice as well. He decided to go for something romantic. “So, do you want to get married?”

  Maggie wrinkled her nose. “You’re supposed to tell me you love me, too, then you get on your knees and propose. That’s the way you’re supposed to do it, Ted.” More tears dripped down her freckled cheeks.

  Ted looked befuddled. “I told you I loved you last week and you said I should keep my emotions to myself. You tell me one thing and then expect something else. I can’t read your mind. Is that a yes or a no?”

  “I don’t see you on your knees, Ted. How can I take you seriously if you don’t get on your knees? How much do you make a year?”

  Ted blinked as he dropped to his knees. Jack Emery would never get on his knees, even for Cindy Crawford. I hate you, Jack. Ted reached for Maggie’s hand because he thought that was what he was supposed to do. “Will you marry me?”

  Maggie tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, but not right now. Let’s eat. You didn’t tell me how much you make. We need to get that straight. I pay rent, you pay rent. We need to buy a house and a family car. I’ll manage the checkbook. No more eating out every night. One or the other of us will cook. We’ll take turns cleaning the house, too.”

  Ted wondered where the romance was going to come in. Stud Muffin Emery would never agree to these terms. I hate you, Jack!

  “So, do we have a deal?” Maggie asked as she started taking their dinner out of the bags.

  Ted reached for the silverware. “Is that how you think of it, Maggie? A deal? I thought marriage was something special. You know, romance, flirting, caring about one another, helping one another, cuddling, putting up the Christmas tree together, buying toys for the animals, lots of kissing, lots and lots of sex.”

  Maggie held the carving knife over the chicken. She looked up at Ted, her expression unreadable. She laid the knife down on the table. “I don’t understand you, Ted. The scenario I presented to you is what I thought you could handle. You blow hot and cold. It’s like you have to consult someone or something before you can even make a decision. Now, you spring yours on me — which, by the way, is the way a marriage is supposed to be. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with you. It won’t be hard to fall out of love, either. We need to come to some kind of decision before I cut up this chicken.”

  “Maggie, I want whatever you want. Let’s put this all on the shelf and talk about it when we aren’t both so stressed out. Can we agree for now that it’s enough to know you love me and I love you and we’ll work on the rest of it?”

  Maggie smiled. “I’ll agree to everything just as soon as you tell me how much you make.”

  “Fifteen grand a year more than you do. I’ve been there longer, Maggie.”

  “No problem. I just needed a mental picture of how much we could afford when it comes to a house. White or dark meat?”

  Ted blinked. “Both,” he said smartly.

  Both reporters ate the way they did everything: with gusto. From time to time, one of them would wave a fork around while trying to make a particular point.

  “Now that we’ve made a commitment to one another, I guess I can tell you something no one else in this town knows but me.”

  Ted was suddenly all ears and eyes as he waited for what he knew was going to be earth shattering. The fact that his lady love was about to share something momentous left him almost teary-eyed. Suddenly he felt like he could take on the world. “What?” he whispered.

  “There’s an organization in this town that boasts eight hundred members. Nothing goes on inside or outside the Beltway that these members don’t know about. Eight hundred members, Ted. Most of the members are active, meaning they pay their yearly dues. They meet once a month, always at a different location and usually at some church hall.”

  “Who? What? Why? How do they manage to keep it a secret? And how did you find out? Is one of the members your snitch?”

  Maggie was busy picking slivers of chicken off a wing and slipping it to the cats. “I want your word that what I tell you stays with you. The journalist’s oath, Ted.”

  “You got it. Come on, tell me.”

  “The organization is called the Beltway Divas, made up mostly of housekeepers, daily and weekly domestics, and nannies. They know everything that goes on in this town, Ted. Everything.”

  Ted tried to look impressed. “Uh-huh.”

  “Uh-huh? That’s all you can say? I think I’m the only one who knows. Violet, my twice-a-week cleaning lady, told me all about it. The reason she told me is she got sick and I took care of her. She wanted to do something for me. So she told me her secret. Now she’s my spy. She pretty much works under the table and has no health insurance. I took her to the doctor, let her stay in my spare room, made her soup, made sure she took her medicine. She’s a very nice person. She told me stories that would curl your hair. That’s what they do at their meetings, tell stories about all the politicians and the power brokers they work for. They tape all the meetings and want to write a book. The only problem is that when they hired them, their employers insisted the live-in housekeepers and nannies sign documents saying they would never divulge anything they saw or heard while in their employ. I figure I could act as their agent, proofread the text, hire them a ghostwriter. I could probably make enough to get a big chunk of money to put down on a deposit for a house. I’ll get serious about it when I talk to a lawyer. I’d need a chunk of free time, which I don’t have right now. It’s definitely on my agenda, though. For now, it’s almost like having money in the bank.

  “I also have a quasi list of people that Rosemary Hershey slept with. I don’t even know if we need to speak to any of those men, but I have the list, thanks to Hershey’s cleaning lady, who she treats like dirt. The woman couldn’t wait to give it up to Violet. Say something, Ted.”

  “I don’t know what to say other than that I see lawsuits all over the place. I thought you had a…bombshell.”

  Maggie looked crushed. “How’s this for a bombshell? Rosemary Hershey’s weekly cleaning lady quit on her this week. It seems Rosemary called her to come in an extra day to clean up a mess of sorts. When she got there and saw what it was that she was supposed to clean, she quit on the spot. It seems everything in one of the bathrooms was blocked up — the sink, the tub, the shower, the toilet. The whole bathroom looked charred and something rather large had been burned in the tub. Rosemary’s explanation to the cleaning lady was that her husband did it to spite her before he moved out.”

  Ted nibbled on the remains of a chicken leg as he tried to digest the information Maggie had just shared. “Sounds like Miss Hershey needs a plumber. So what does this mean to us?”

  “I don’t know, Ted. I told you everything that happened today. Those ladies of Pinewood have Hershey on the run, that’s for sure. When I was at Flanders’s office, Rosemary kept referring to articles she was getting in the mail. They must be sending her stuff from the old trial. It’s spooking her. She’s acting out of character. Did you find out anything from the husband?”

  Ted finished off the chicken leg and picked up the other one. “Not much. He really is a stand-
up guy. His personal life is none of my business, so I couldn’t dwell on it. He was busy but he gave me ten minutes. He’s concentrating on the designs he’s going to submit for the McLean horse farm. The guy is into it. He casually mentioned that he was in the process of dissolving his partnership with his wife and that he’d filed for divorce. Bobby Harcourt wouldn’t say one bad word about Isabelle Flanders. In fact, he told me he personally delivered a fica tree to her offices. I told him I heard the smart money says it was a tie between the two of them. His comment was, ‘Then I’m in good company.’ End of interview. Where does that leave us?”

  “Right where we were this morning. I’ll stay on Rosemary and you concentrate on the ladies of Pinewood. Which of us is covering the dinner at the Silver Swan?”

  “Probably you. Are you sure there was nothing in Hershey’s files?”

  “I’m sure. I went through everything, page by page. There was nothing there that can help us. My gut tells me that whatever is going to happen is going to happen right after that dinner.”

  Ted tossed the picked-clean chicken leg on to his plate. “I think you’re right…honey.”

  Eighteen

  Alexis brought her Mini Cooper to a stop. She took a moment to look around at the neat, tidy nursery that Yoko owned. The windows of the long line of greenhouses sparkled in the late-morning sun. Knowing Yoko as she did, she expected no less than perfection. She climbed out of the car and headed for the flower shop.

  A bell tinkled overhead when Alexis opened the door. Yoko looked up from the flowers she was arranging, alarm spreading across her face when she saw Alexis.