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  “Nice to see you, too, Your Honor,” the technician said airily. “Twice in two days you get to go on the tube. Some people would kill for the exposure. It’s just a three-minute segment. Relax.”

  “Does this mean the authorities found the people who broke into our home yesterday?” Eunice asked.

  The technician stopped what he was doing and stared at Eunice. “I have no idea, Your Honor. I’m just getting the light right. Allan Scanlon will be doing the interview, so you can ask him.”

  “Where is he?”

  “In the van getting his makeup on and fixing his comb-over. It’s windy out here today,” the technician, whose name tag read BOBBY, said.

  “Well, it’s twelve o’clock. What’s the delay?” Celeste demanded.

  The door behind the judges opened. The twins heard, “Hey, check this out! Listen to what they’re saying.” The twins swiveled around to stare at the television set hanging in the lobby in time to hear an excited voice saying, “And not only is Peter Ciprani, brother to Judges Celeste and Eunice Ciprani who had him declared dead, now back from the dead, but he’s arm in arm with our illustrious past president, Martine Connor. And we were told just seconds ago that he will be her escort at the retirement party for Judge Henry Rhodes tomorrow night. And now we’re going live to the courthouse to hear the reaction to this wonderful news.”

  To say the twins were like two deer caught in the headlights was to put it mildly.

  The reporter with the rosy cheeks and bad comb-over smiled, showing enormous, blinding, white-capped teeth. “Your comment, Your Honors.”

  “I never thought I’d live to see a miracle like this,” Celeste said in a strangled-sounding voice as she tried valiantly to paste a smile on her face.

  “I agree with my sister; this is indeed a miracle,” Eunice said in a voice so shrill, she saw the reporter flinch. She struggled for a smile that looked as sickly as the one Celeste was flaunting.

  Somehow, the twins managed to find their way back to Eunice’s office. She closed and locked the door, then slipped to the floor as tears rolled down her cheeks. “God, Cee, why didn’t you listen to me? We could have been in Argentina by now or at least in the air. I told you I saw Peter. Why didn’t you believe me?”

  “I don’t know why, Nessie. I guess because I never thought Peter would come back. Good God, it’s way over twenty years. Okay, okay, I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry won’t cut it, Cee.”

  “I have an idea, Nessie. How about if we leave now, drive up to Waterton, take the work truck the gardener keeps in the garage, and drive to New York? We can be there in seven hours. We can get lost in New York. With our new passports and a disguise, we can leave from Kennedy or LaGuardia. How does that sound?”

  “Stupid. It sounds stupid, Cee. The press is going to be hounding us, following us. Didn’t you hear those Post reporters screaming at us outside? They never give up. They’ll wait outside for us until the moon comes out. I really hate those spots on your face.”

  “Ask me if I care. Do you have a better idea?” Celeste said, swiping at her eyes. “It can’t end like this, Nessie, it just can’t.”

  “Did you get the text from Bob Szmansky this morning? Nessie asked. “I think he copied you.”

  “No. What did it say?”

  “Are you lying, Cee? It said he copied you.”

  “Well, I didn’t get it. Can’t you ever just respond in the proper manner?”

  “It said the governor has arranged for a jamboree at Camp One. The youngsters are going to be bused in tomorrow night, the kickoff will be at dawn on Saturday, and our presence is requested. It seems some countess in Virginia is springing for the tab. The reporters from the Post will be there, along with President Connor. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Peter shows up. The governor said it’s time to renegotiate the fees the government is paying. That has to mean they want a reduction, and if we don’t comply, they’ll send the kids somewhere else.”

  Celeste rubbed at her temples. Hot tears burned her eyes.

  Eunice started to sob as she clutched at her sister. “There’s no way out, is there, Cee?”

  “I just don’t know, Nessie. I just don’t know.”

  Chapter 23

  Myra rubbed at her throbbing temples. “I can’t do this anymore,” she said, waving her hands at the disarray in the suite. Stacks and stacks of loose papers, files, and legal pads glared at her from every corner of the suite like malevolent eyes.

  “I’m with you,” Marti said, brushing the hair back from her forehead. “I think what we have is more than sufficient. Let someone else sift through this stuff and make the final decisions. We have enough now to take matters into our own hands. Pearl, you said earlier you can put all this on a spreadsheet and print it out, right?”

  Pearl waved a yellow legal pad in the air. She looked as tired as the others. And she was hungry. Her left foot was starting to tingle, a warning that her gout was going to flare up shortly. She did her best to ignore the tingly sensation.

  “Tell us what you have, Pearl,” Annie said.

  Pearl perched her reading glasses on the end of her nose and started to read from her notes.

  “The Maryland government leases the four boot camps from four different corporations. We tried tracking them at first, but there are so many holding companies and dummy corporations along with the trust that I had to give up because I couldn’t keep them straight. A forensic accountant is called for here. What we do know is the four properties where the camps are at one time belonged to Peter Ciprani and were legally transferred to the twin judges when they had him declared dead. Each camp is a separate entity. Following the paperwork is just too mind-bending. Suffice it to say, we know that the twins are in control of the entire shebang because we are looking at files we confiscated from their homes. No one else would have all of these files. Having said that, the government pays forty thousand dollars a month to lease each camp. That’s one hundred and sixty thousand dollars a month. So, the rental per year comes to $1.92 million. As far as these records go, it looks like the twins have been in business for over nineteen years, so that brings our total to roughly $36.5 million, give or take.

  “From every indication in these files, the camps are always at full enrollment, which is one hundred and sixty youngsters to each camp, or six hundred and forty kids. The government pays two thousand dollars a month for each child’s care or $1.28 million a month. I have no idea on what basis anyone came up with the number two thousand. To my way of thinking, two grand per child per month is excessive, but when it comes to government, they probably think they’re getting off cheap. For twelve months it equals out to $15.36 million. Over nineteen years that would bring it in around $291.84 million, give or take a little on either side. That is an awful lot of money no matter how you look at it.

  “The outlay for utilities, food, upkeep, salaries, uniforms, laundry, vehicles, insurance, maintenance, et cetera, barely eats into it. From what I can tell, the commandant who oversees each facility is only paid sixty-five thousand dollars a year with a large yearly bonus. The counselors are paid at twelve dollars an hour. They also get robust yearly bonuses. Of course, room and board are included, as well as driving privileges on company cars, which are leased through separate corporations. It’s a dizzying trail to follow.

  “It gets especially interesting when you come to the food part. Restaurants and farmers in the outlying areas donate tons of food seasonally. The key word here is donate. And yet the food bills remain pretty much the same. I guess you could call it kickbacks or something of that nature. Two sets of books. One for public viewing and one for what we have right here in front of us. We’re talking a boatload of money, ladies.”

  “I had no idea,” Annie gasped.

  Myra fingered her pearls, her eyes glassy. “And they got away with it all these years. Amazing.”

  “Who paid for the construction of the buildings? That had to be expensive,” Nellie asked.
r />   “The twins. A lot of it could be written off. And it was all done with Peter Ciprani’s money on Peter Ciprani’s land once they had him declared dead,” Pearl said. “So, their return on investment is infinite since not a red cent of their own money ever had to be put at risk.”

  “And they got away with it all these years,” Annie said, repeating Myra’s words. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “And if it weren’t for Dennis West, they’d still be getting away with it. No, I am not discounting Maggie’s gut feelings, but it’s doubtful we would have come this far without that young man. Oh, I am seeing a very bright future for young Dennis.”

  Myra’s cell chose that moment to chirp to life. She answered it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she heard Maggie’s voice. “We were just talking about you, dear. Do you have news?” Myra listened. First she frowned, then she grimaced, then she smiled. The others relaxed when their fearless leader let go of her pearls.

  The moment Myra ended the call, she said, “The good news is Abner was finally successful with his Swiss banker. He said the man took it right down to the wire and didn’t give Abner his answer until two minutes before the bank closed. The bad news is his fee is triple what the man in the Caymans asked for,” Myra said, her eyes on Annie, who simply waved off her words as of no importance.

  “Then we are good to go here, right?” Marti asked. She got up, unkinked her neck, and did a few stretching exercises. “Let’s pack up this stuff and get it out of here. I am so sick of looking at it, I can’t stand it.”

  The women fell to the task. An hour later, all the boxes and files were stacked neatly in the foyer with just a narrow pathway to get to the door. Avery Snowden’s men would pick them all up at some point and make sure it all got to the right people. Again, at some point.

  “I’m tired. If no one is going to use the shower, I’m going to go first. And then I’m going to bed. Tomorrow and the day after promise to be . . . challenging,” Myra said.

  The others agreed. As they waited to take their turns, they passed the time talking about Judge Rhodes’s retirement party, the proposed mass exodus of the youngsters at the boot camps, the punishment and removal of the twin judges, and last, but not least, Peter Ciprani.

  They all slept dreamlessly. Except for Marti, and the less said about her dreams, the better.

  Chapter 24

  Maggie Spitzer fought her way out of a deep sleep as she automatically pawed the nightstand to find her cell phone, which was ringing so loudly she thought for a moment she was in church hearing the bells toll. She cracked an eyelid and saw bright end-of-October sun shining through the slats on the window blinds. She was going to kill Ted. The last thing she’d said to him before they parted company at her door last night was not to call her early in the morning and he’d agreed. “What did I tell you?” she snarled into the phone.

  “I don’t know. What did you tell me?” Abner Tookus asked.

  Maggie’s eyelids flew up as she struggled to sit up. “Sorry, Abby, I thought you were Ted. What’s up?”

  “I need you fully awake, Maggie, so you can understand what I’m going to tell you. Are you fully awake?”

  “I am now,” Maggie said, as her stomach muscles crunched themselves into a tight knot. “Fire away.”

  “The money here in Switzerland is gone. It was wired out last night, your time. My banker friend called to tell me. That’s the bad news. The good news is he wired the advance money I paid him back into Annie’s account. I have a call in to the guy in the Caymans, but he was in a meeting, and there is the time difference between here and there, so he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. If this account is gone, I’m pretty sure the one in the Caymans will be gone, too. Those women are not stupid. The only way to track it now is if they themselves give you the routing numbers. I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  Maggie struggled to find words, but none came. She finally managed something that sounded like, “It’s not your fault, Abby.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Maggie. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to see if I could figure out where the money was wired, but I’ve come up dry. Talk to your people and tell me what you want me to do. If there’s nothing more for me to do here, I’d like to head on home. You okay, Maggie?”

  “I’m okay. Abby, don’t take this personally. Sometimes things just can’t be helped, and like you said, the banker paid back the money. I didn’t think those two women were that smart. Guess I was wrong. Thanks for calling. I’m giving you permission to leave. I know the others will agree. As soon as you know about the Caymans, let me know.”

  “This is just my opinion, Maggie, but I think your principals are about to take it on the lam. They’re clearing the decks for a getaway. Keep that in mind.”

  Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as her mind raced. The breaking and entering Myra and Annie had done must have terrified the judges. She knew in her gut that Abner was right, the twins were getting ready to head to unknown parts. The question was how soon?

  Maggie took the quickest shower of her life, ran a toothbrush across her pearly whites, dressed, ran down the hall to the presidential suite, and rapped on the door. It was opened almost immediately by Pearl. The others were up but still in their nightclothes. They were drinking coffee. Annie quickly poured a cup for Maggie.

  Between sips of coffee, Maggie relayed Abner’s news. “I agree with him, they’re ready to hit the road. What’s our next move?”

  “I’ll call Charles,” Myra said.

  “I’m calling Avery to tell him to put surveillance on them immediately,” Annie said.

  “I’m calling Peter!” Marti said. Everyone turned to her, their eyes full of surprise and questions. “Think about it for a minute. Who but Peter can ensure they stay here? By now, the word is out all over town that he’s returned from the dead, thanks to all those interviews. The twins can’t afford to ignore him. There hasn’t even been a face-to-face meeting yet. We need him to do that as soon as possible to see what he can get from the conversation.”

  “Do it then,” Pearl said. The others nodded.

  The phone calls completed, Annie poured more coffee for everyone. A plate of pastries sat in the middle of the table, thanks to Avery Snowden. Maggie helped herself. “I really hate to eat and run, but I want to get the guys together so we can all descend on the courthouse demanding interviews with the judges. One of us will alert the local TV station to have someone there for the big reconciliation with Peter. If we put the twins on the spot, they can’t make a move without our knowing about it. See ya!”

  “I’d pay to see that,” Marti said wistfully. “I’m getting cabin fever.”

  “I think you just want to see Peter again,” Nellie teased.

  Marti blushed. “That, too.”

  “Then do it, Marti. Take as many of your bogus Secret Service people with you as you want. No one is going to challenge you. If anything, it will be more in your face for those two . . . awful women. I say, do it!”

  Myra’s fist shot in the air. “Absolutely you should do it. Hurry, Marti. Get dressed, and wear something fetching. Dress presidential.”

  “You could lend her your pearls, Myra,” Annie said slyly.

  Knowing the saga of Myra’s pearls, Marti was quick to respond. “That won’t be necessary. I have my own pearls. I bought them at JCPenney a hundred years ago with my first-ever paycheck. I think I was sixteen at the time.”

  “Every woman should have a string of pearls,” Myra said huffily.

  More phone calls were outgoing and just as many were incoming before the women scattered to shower and dress. The only one singing in the shower, however, was Martine Connor.

  During the morning recess, both court clerks informed their bosses that Channel Three had reporters in the lobby along with the Post reporters, who were in attendance to cover the Peter Ciprani reunion with his twin sisters. “Judge Jones insists you be on time,” one of the clerks said.

  “Calvin has no right to issue an order like t
hat,” Eunice said. “I am not giving any personal interviews. Celeste and I never give personal interviews, and we are not going to start now, Peter or no Peter. That’s private and personal.”

  “My sister is right, but we will gladly comply with Judge Jones’s suggestion that we attend, but that’s all we’re willing to do. At which point I hope the doddering old fool keels over,” Celeste said coolly. “I guess that’s too much to ask for, now isn’t it?”

  The two court clerks remained stone-faced and silent. They knew better than to argue with their bosses.

  “Judge Jones also told us to remind you that court is going dark at two o’clock this afternoon so everyone can get ready for Judge Rhodes’s retirement party. He realizes you won’t be attending, but everyone else will be, and he has to accommodate the majority,” Celeste’s clerk said timidly.

  “Fine! Fine! Does the old tyrant have any other orders?” Celeste snarled.

  “No, that’s it, Your Honor. You have two minutes to get back to court.”

  Celeste saw the look of panic on her sister’s face. She smiled, but there was a warning in her eyes that clearly said, Keep it together. Eunice gave a slight nod as she turned to head to her courtroom.

  Celeste looked at the two clerks, and said, “I don’t understand why this meeting couldn’t take place in chambers. It is, after all, a private family matter.”

  The two clerks shrugged, their expressions blank before they walked off.

  Celeste moved quickly, her black robe billowing out behind her own breeze as she swooped into her courtroom.

  “All rise! Court is in session, the Honorable Judge Celeste Ciprani presiding.”

  The first person Celeste noticed when she sat down and peered out into the courtroom was her brother, Peter, and standing next to him was the former president of the United States, flanked by a dozen Secret Service agents.