Cross Roads (6 page)

On the ride up the escalator, Maggie did her best to act nonchalant as she looked around as if she didn't have a thing on her mind except shopping. The minute she stepped off the escalator, she headed straight for what she called the Designer Duds Department, where she went through the racks at the speed of light until a matronly woman came up to her with several dresses on her arm.

“I was just about to put these out. They just came in. This one,” she said, holding up a slithery black number that Maggie knew had her name on it. Ted would go wild if he ever saw her in anything like that, she thought. She murmured something as the woman led her to a dressing room, where Maggie fiddled and diddled around just long enough for it to appear that she'd tried on the dress and admired herself in it.

Back outside at the cashier's station, the woman made a production of asking if she wanted a garment bag or a shopping bag. Maggie opted for the shopping bag since the dress was so soft and crushable. “Just wrap it in tissue paper.” She whipped out her credit card, watched it being scanned, and gulped at the amount the dress cost.

Five minutes later, she was tripping her way back toward the escalator, carrying her gaily colored shopping bag, which seemed suspiciously heavy. She wondered if anyone would notice. She fixed a happy-go-lucky smile on her face as she swung the bag back and forth like she didn't have a care in the world. She just knew she had outfoxed all those unseen eyes that were watching her.

Thirty-five minutes later, Maggie was back at the
dojo
and sitting at the picnic table with the others. “What we have here, ladies and gentleman, are burn phones. We each get one. I guess Ted knows someone who got these, had them programmed, and they are untraceable. So he says. Now, let's test them out by calling Bert, Kathryn, Nikki, and Jack and see what, if anything, comes out of the calls. While you all do that, I am going to call Lizzie on mine and ask her to find a reason to go to the White House. I want the skinny on that damn engagement. Who better to worm it out of the president than Lizzie?”

“Good thinking, dear. I think once we know what that particular situation is, we might be able to figure things out, or at least get a lead on which direction we should go,” Myra said. Maggie did not fail to see the glint in Myra's eyes. Myra was her old self, and Annie…Annie was about to go up in smoke any moment with all the excitement going on around her.

Life was suddenly taking a turn upward. Yessireee.

“I
don't know about you, Myra, but I think this table looks particularly festive,” Annie said as she placed gardenia-scented candles around the table. “But you know what I think is best?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “Little Lady and her pups getting underfoot and wanting us to play with them. It's like this old farmhouse has come alive again. A family, Myra. I can't wait for the gang to get here. I did so hope Lizzie would be able to make it, but she said Little Jack has an upper respiratory infection. Baby comes first, so we will just have to settle for the video conference after dinner.”

Myra's eyes started to mist as she bent down to pick up one of the pups, which was clawing at her shoe. “There is nothing sweeter in this whole wide world than a new baby and a new pup. Absolutely nothing.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Annie said as she, too, picked up a pup to cuddle. “We're going to have to name these little guys pretty soon. We can't keep calling them One, Two, Three, and Four. Don't say A, B, C, and D.”

Myra laughed. “Maybe our guests will have some ideas for names. I'm so excited that they're all coming for dinner. It's almost like old times, isn't it, Annie?”

“Almost. It's been three days since we came back from town. There is still no word from the others. Joseph called to say that Alexis was on her way home with Grady last night, so she'll be here for dinner. Did you notice I set the extra place?”

“Annie, I was there. I heard the conversation on the speakerphone. It's all so wonderful. I hope Little Lady and Grady get along together.”

“I'm sure they will, and I do think I hear a car. In fact, I think Little Lady hears it, too. The hair on the scruff of her neck is on end. I'm so glad you got this dog, Myra. I just love this hustle and bustle and the fact that we're all going to be together again. Well, five of our crew are missing, six if you count Stu Franklin, seven if we count Fish, which I am not inclined to do, but for the most part, we're all here. I'm excited, aren't you, Myra?”

“I am, more than you will ever know.”

Within minutes it was like old times as all of Charles's chicks bounded into the kitchen. On cue, they ooohed and aaahed over the delicious aromas wafting about. They hugged Charles, smooched him on the cheek, then they all settled down to watch the interaction between Grady, Little Lady, and the four pups wobbling about the kitchen on their rubbery legs.

“This is so good for Grady. Even though he flew with me first-class, thanks to Annie, he's been cooped up way too long. He can run here to his heart's content. He missed Murphy so much back in the beginning. He wouldn't eat and he got sick, and we were in a foreign country. It was just awful. When I told him we were
going home,
he was a new dog. They like each other,” she said, pointing to the two dogs, who were nuzzling each other. “And now he has four additional playmates. Win! Win! Oh, God, Myra, I am so very happy to be here again. I am never, ever going to leave these shores again. Write that down, everybody, because I mean it.”

“There is no need to write it down, darling girl. We will not allow any of you to separate from us again. We had our fill of being alone, and none of us liked it. Family is family, and we're sticking close this time around,” Myra said happily.

Yoko smiled through her tears as she cuddled one of the pups close to her chest. No one missed the concern in Harry's eyes.

Small talk continued as Charles poured wine. The toast was simple. “To family and togetherness.”

The gathering trooped into the dining room as the dogs headed to Little Lady's lair and the pen where the pups slept.

“Voilà!” Charles said, throwing open the door to the dining room.

“It's like Thanksgiving!” Ted said. “I want a drumstick!”

“Everything, just like Thanksgiving,” Yoko said. “We do have so much to be thankful for today.”

“I wish the others were here,” Maggie said.

“They are, dear, in spirit. See, Charles set places for them. Joseph is going to take some pictures and send them on to Bert and Jack,” Annie said. “We're hoping when they see us all here at the farmhouse, they will put it together and get in touch somehow. That is, if the pictures make it through cyberspace.”

Espinosa stood up behind his chair as Charles poured yet a second toast. He captured forever on film the sparkling glasses being held aloft, the smiles, the beautiful table setting, the succulent turkey, and the pups—who, fortuitously, had just escaped their pen.

Myra said she thought that on this day, and during this particular dinner, she was the happiest she'd been since being granted her pardon. Her declaration was received with whoops of agreement from all those at the table. Underneath, the pups whined, demanding to be picked up. Little Lady and Grady picked them up, one by one, by the scruffs of the necks and returned them to their pen.

The “Thanksgiving” meal progressed until the men loosened their belts and the women sighed with contentment, all professing they couldn't eat another bite. Well, they finally conceded an hour later that maybe they could eat the pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream. Hazelnut coffee was served, and the meal was truly over.

“I hope we can all be alert and not fall asleep when we do the video conference with Lizzie,” Maggie said.

The dining room and kitchen were a beehive of activity as everyone fell into their old routine—
I cook, you all clean up.
One of many rules Charles had initiated early on.

“You have no idea how I missed all of this,” Yoko said, motioning to everyone scurrying about. “We worked so well together. It was as if we could read each other's minds.”

“Don't you dare start boo-hooing, Yoko,” Alexis said fiercely, a catch in her voice.

Yoko sucked in her breath and smiled. “Is it time yet?”

“It is now,” Charles said as he turned the dial on the dishwasher. “Follow me.”

Their steps were light, their murmurings hushed as they followed Charles to the secret war room they'd utilized beneath the old farmhouse in the early days when they had all come together for the first time.

“It seems like forever since we've been here,” Alexis said as she took her old seat at the huge, round table. “This,” she said, pointing to the chair on her left, “used to be Julia's chair. It's Annie's chair now. Nikki sat there, Isabelle over there. Myra was the head chair, and Yoko is sitting where she always sat,” she said for the benefit of the others, even though they were all aware of the previous seating arrangements. She was babbling, and she knew it but was unable to stop herself. “It's like we've come full circle somehow. And yet…I don't know how to explain it. It's a feeling not unlike what I felt the first time I stepped into this room. Back then, I knew that my life as I knew it was going to change and never be the same again. I feel that way right now. This might sound trite to all of you, but I feel like I, personally, am at a crossroads this very moment. Do…do any of you feel like that?”

Every hand in the room shot in the air. Alexis sighed in relief.

“Has
anyone
heard from Isabelle?” Maggie asked. Every head wagged back and forth.

Myra stood up and cleared her throat. Her hands were steady on the table and not at the pearls at her throat. That fact alone told the others something serious was about to be discussed, and this meeting was not just about a video conference with Lizzie.

“Charles, I want you to sit at the table with all of us. We have some things we need to share with you before we do the video conference. I suppose it's possible you already know of our concerns and have not voiced them to us, and it is also possible we're going to tell you things you don't know, things that have just come to light that concern…our little family that really isn't all that little anymore. I'm going to turn the floor over to Maggie now.”

Maggie stood up the moment Myra sat down and started to talk. Only Charles appeared shocked, or as Annie later put it, stunned. Maggie wound down her report and motioned to the others at the table. “They've all tendered their resignations to Global, Charles. We're having no luck reaching Bert, Jack, or Isabelle. If you know anything you haven't shared, this might be a good time to speak up.”

Charles's arms flapped in the air. He looked genuinely shocked. “I think I would have…no, correct that to, I would have
known
something was going on if you're right in your thinking. Snowden has always been on top of things, along with all my other people.”

“With all due respect, Charles,” Ted said, “Jellicoe is so far up the food chain,
your people
are novices compared to him. That guy and
his people
seem to have a lock on the covert-security world. I'm talking worldwide, not just here in Alphabet City. Look at us! We're the proof. And you didn't know we quit until now. Admit it, and let's move on here.” There was such a bite to Ted's tone that, to everyone's dismay, Charles flinched.

Myra reached over and patted Charles's hand. “It's all right, dear. We just found out ourselves thanks to Annie's return and Maggie's keen instincts. We have to figure out what is going on, and more important, why it's going on.”

To everyone's surprise, Espinosa, who usually observed rather than being vocal, spoke up. “Like Ted said, with all due respect, Charles, do you mind telling us what you've been doing for the past year and a half that you aren't up on what's going on? Or should we just assume that once the girls' pardons came through, the world stopped on a dime.”

Alexis scooted her chair a little closer to Espinosa's. The move told the others that she was on his side and she, too, wanted an answer.

“It's a fair question, Joseph. And to a certain extent, you're right. I did let the world stop in a way once the pardons came through. My personal life, which had been pretty much on hold, suddenly became active. I've been attempting to write my memoirs and taking care of…of my late son's affairs. And, of course, seeing to the daily affairs here at the farm. I suppose that's no excuse, but it's the best I can offer at the moment. If any of you think that's inadequate as an explanation, tell me.”

“I see no reason to place blame anywhere. None of us became aware of this situation, and, in all honesty, we really didn't even know for certain we had a situation, until a few days ago. It is entirely possible we're all overreacting. Unlikely as it seems, I am trying to be the voice of reason here,” Annie said.

Harry leaned forward. Like Espinosa, Harry was a man of few words, and when he did decide to speak, everyone paid attention. “If I'm not mistaken, aren't you a personal friend of Hank Jellicoe's?” Not waiting for a response, he said, “Can you get in touch with him? That would certainly take the edge off things.”

“There are friends, Harry, then there are friends. I do know Hank, have known him for years and years. I know him well enough to visit unannounced, which I did a while back. Since that visit, I have not heard from him, but that in itself does not mean anything. Years go by sometimes, and we are not in touch with the exception of the proverbial Christmas card. The Hank Jellicoe I know and respect would never do anything wrong. The man is all about God and country and family. He reveres all three. He's that rare man you want at your side in a crisis. I don't know what else to say.”

“Call him, Charles,” Yoko said.

Charles excused himself from the table and walked up the two steps to his workstation. He returned with his sat phone. All eyes were on him as he punched in Hank Jellicoe's number. Those same eyes watched as he nibbled on his lower lip, and as one they knew he had reached Jellicoe's voice mail. “Charlie, Hank. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message.”

Charles frowned. “That doesn't have to mean anything. He could be indisposed. He could be out of range, although I think that's unlikely. He could be on a plane and the phone is off. It could be anything. In the past he has always, and I want to stress
always,
returned my call within hours. I can call the farmhouse and see what his people tell me.”

“I think you should do that, dear,” Myra said. Charles nodded, went back to his workstation, and returned with a number on a pad. He punched in the number and waited. “Charles Martin here, Mr. Wylie. I'm trying to locate Hank. I've left a message on his phone, but this is a bit of an emergency. I was wondering if you could reach him and have him return my call if that's possible.”

The call ended. “Mr. Wylie, Hank's foreman and head of security at his farm, said that when he heard from Jellicoe, he would relay my message. That's it. There is no one or anywhere else to call unless we try Avery Snowden to see what, if anything, he comes up with. I understand how all of you are feeling right now, but since you are all so edgy, I don't see that we have anything to lose and possibly something to gain. A show of hands would be nice.” Every hand in the room shot upward. “Consider it done.”

The conversation was curt and terse. “It might take a while, possibly a few hours. So, unless there is nothing else on our agenda, I think we should move on with our video conference with Lizzie.”

“I think we should try Jack and Bert again. I've been texting Isabelle with no results. I don't think any of us know how to reach Stu Franklin.” Maggie turned to Annie, and said, “What about Fish? Do you think he knows anything?”

Annie's voice was grim when she said, “If he does, he didn't share it with me. Actually, I haven't heard from him since I got here.” Her voice turned defensive when she said, “We don't as a rule live in each other's pockets—he has his life, and I have mine. We don't…explain ourselves to each other.”

“That's not a bad thing, Annie,” Myra said comfortingly. “It's how you remain an individual.” The others agreed.