Game Over (2 page)

“And admit I was wrong! Is that what you're saying?”

“Well, yes, Annie, that's what I'm saying.”

“I was never a quitter,” Annie sniffed. “I'll do the recital on my own, with or without an audience. If I embarrass myself, it will teach me a lesson when I get another harebrained idea. Can you really work the pole, Myra?”

“I think so. I took that tutorial you gave me and put it inside a book I was reading. Charles didn't have a clue what I was reading. I memorized it, and every chance I got, I tried it on a tree in the backyard of that house we were staying in. I realize a tree is different from a stripper pole, but I have the…moves down pretty pat. I might be making a fool of myself, too, but you did say we should cut loose and try all these new things. You better not be telling me you were wrong, Annie.”

“You want another brownie, Myra?” Annie said as she shoved a whole square into her own mouth.

“Why not?” Myra said as she reached for the sugary treat. When she finished the brownie, she looked up at Annie and asked, “You want to try the pole this evening or wait for tomorrow?”

“Oh, God, Myra, I don't have it in me to go at it tonight. Tomorrow will work just fine. Don't you want to join your new husband?”

“Why? He's sound asleep in a real bed. Did I ever tell you he sleeps sideways? He does. I have to go to bed first in order to claim my space. I'm probably going to sleep on the couch.”

“No, you never told me that, and again, what's with all this sharing you're doing all of a sudden?” Annie grumbled. “I don't have anything to share, if that's what you're hoping.”

“Oh, go to bed, Annie. I'll finish cleaning up. I want to sit here and think a bit. Something is niggling at me, and I want to try and figure out what it is. It's good to be home, my friend.”

“Glad to have you back, Myra. Good night. Give Barbara my regards.”

Myra smiled.

I
t was twenty minutes past the lunch hour when the bailiff informed Assistant District Attorney Jack Emery that the presiding judge was canceling the afternoon court session. Jack waited a full minute to see if a reason would be given for the cancellation, but none was forthcoming. “What about court tomorrow?” he asked.

“Your office will be notified first thing in the morning.”

Jack shrugged and started to pack up his briefcase, just as the defense attorney from the Prizzi law firm was doing.

“I heard at lunch that the judge's denture broke, and he hightailed it to the dentist. Don't count on tomorrow, either,” the other attorney said gleefully.

Jack shrugged again, and since the courtroom was now empty except for him and opposing counsel, Jack turned his cell phone on. It rang almost immediately. He listened to Harry Wong's excited voice. “You making this up, Harry?” He held the phone away from his ear and said, “Okay, I'm on the way. What? How hard is it snowing? Oh. How many times do I have to tell you there are no windows in the courtrooms here in the courthouse? I'll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

Outside, it was snowing lightly, the wind gusty as it blew Jack along to the courthouse parking lot, where he spent ten minutes clearing off his windshield and back window. He'd be glad when spring rolled around. He hated cold and snow with a deep passion. Inside the car, with the heater working at peak capacity, he reached over to the backseat for his duffel bag. He yanked at the bag and pulled out his battered sneakers. He tossed his Brooks Brothers loafers onto the backseat, slipped his feet into his Nikes, put the car in gear, and peeled out to the road. Forty minutes later Jack carefully maneuvered his car into the narrow driveway in back of Harry's dojo.

“Don't you ever get anything right, Jack? You said twenty minutes. It's been forty minutes. My ass is frozen. And…I suspect Cosmo Cricket is not the kind of man one keeps waiting. This is your fault.”

Jack snorted. “Who told you to stand outside? Certainly not me. If your ass is frozen, the blame is all yours. One can sit on a pointy stick and twirl when one issues mandates. The weather is not cooperating, and what the hell does he want to see all of us for, anyway? Just get in the damn car, Harry.”

“It was an invitation, Jack, not a mandate. He didn't elaborate. Just said it was important.”

“How do you know Cricket invited Ted, Espinosa, and Bert?”

“You are stupid, you know that, Jack? They all called me because your phone was off since you were in court. You remind me on a daily basis that you don't answer when you are in court. So they called me to get in touch with you. I hate talking to you when you go all snarly on me. So, just shut up and drive. Wake me when we get to Old Town.”

“Damn it, Harry, don't you dare go to sleep on me now,” Jack said as he carefully inched over to the right lane to avoid getting stuck behind a sanitation truck. “What did the guys say about the invitation?”

“Nothing. Cricket didn't tell them anything more than he told me. Just that he would appreciate it if we'd meet with him. Oh, yeah, he said not to mention the meeting to Lizzie, but he called her Elizabeth. I said okay. I wasn't comfortable with saying okay, but I did it because he caught me off guard. The others said the same thing. Now I feel disloyal to Lizzie.”

Jack didn't like Harry's fretful tone. When Harry was fretful, things happened, things that he invariably got caught up in. “Cricket is Lizzie's husband, Harry. Maybe he's planning some kind of surprise for her. As guys, we have to stick together. Just look at you, Harry. Where would you be if I didn't step in to help with your decorating?”

“Eat shit, Jack.”

“Stop being so damn testy, Harry. It's not becoming to a man of your dubious status and physical capabilities. Pay attention to the GPS so I know where the hell I'm going. Did Cricket indicate what our destination is to be?”

“No. Just the address, and it's about two miles down the road. You're making good time, considering the weather.” Just then his cell rang. Harry mouthed the word “Ted” and listened. He grunted something and hung up. “Ted said Cricket made him promise not to tell Maggie about this little outing. He's worried about making that promise.”

“What the hell is going on, Harry? We only met that guy…what…three times, and suddenly he's enlisting our aid for something that concerns his wife. I'm just not getting it.”

“That's because you're stupid, Jack. Men call other men when there is a crisis in their relationship. Even I know that. Either Cricket wants us to be part of something he's planning or he wants our advice, which I doubt. I feel duty bound to tell you I am going to tell him not to pay any attention to any advice you might offer.”

Jack ignored Harry, as he usually did. “I bet it has something to do with Lizzie's new position at the White House. I wonder how he
really
likes that. You know, is he jealous? Are people calling him for favors? That kind of thing. You know what, Harry? Suddenly I am not feeling good about this meeting.”

“Yeah, me, too. Okay, hang a right at the next corner, go all the way to the end of the street, and make a left, then another left, and that should put us on Morning Glory Lane. The number on the building—maybe it's a house—is seven-one-one. Talk about your old lucky gambling numbers,” Harry said.

“This looks like a pretty high-end neighborhood,” Jack said as he let his gaze go to the houses on large lots, separated from one another by spacious lawns. “What, two acres each? No immediate neighbors to gossip with over the fence. I wager these babies go for four or five million. I bet Ted will know.”

“That's it!” Harry said, pointing to a string of cars parked in an immense driveway. “Guess we're the last to get here. This is your fault, you schmuck. I hate being last. All the good stuff happens when you're first. When you're last, no one wants to rehash everything that went down in your absence.”

“Will you just shut the hell up, Harry? I hate it when you go off on a tangent. So what if we're last? I'd rather get where I'm going safe and sound than be dead on arrival.”

Jack got out of the car and made his way up the long driveway. He looked to his left and saw that Cosmo Cricket was standing in the open doorway, waiting for them. Cosmo shouted against the wind, “Thanks for coming out in this weather, gentlemen.”

Jack knew Harry was muttering something obscene, even though he couldn't hear it. Harry's lips were moving, which was never a good thing. Actually, it was pretty much of a bad thing.

Hands were shaken; then they were inside a monstrous empty house that seemed to Jack like a gigantic cave. It was warm, which was, he supposed, a good thing. He eyed Cosmo Cricket as Lizzie's husband lumbered his way to the back of the house. “A moving stairway would be nice,” Jack muttered as Cosmo's massive body preceded him and Harry. Jack later swore that the house trembled.

Again, hands were extended as all the men shook, their expressions curious at this particular summons.

“How big is this house?” Espinosa asked.

“Sixty-five hundred square feet. I bought it back in September of last year and had it gutted. Elizabeth doesn't know I bought it. It's supposed to be a surprise,” said Cosmo.

Harry stiffened. “Women do not like this kind of surprise. Just ask old Jack here.”

“I've heard that. That's why I asked all of you to come here. You've all been to Elizabeth's house. I can barely move around in there. I thought…So, are you saying I shouldn't have done this?”

Cosmo looked so worried that Bert took pity on him. He started to talk, and the others weighed in, offering advice.

“It's a stunning house, and I think Lizzie is going to love it. But leave the decorating up to her,” Bert said.

“She might not like driving this far, and I can't see Lizzie taking the Metro. That might be a problem. Of course, you could get her a chauffeur,” Espinosa said. “You know, as part of the surprise.”

Cosmo was looking more worried by the moment.

“There are surprises, and then there are
surprises.
Maggie likes to be part of all decision making. I don't know, Cricket. This might be a hornet's nest,” Ted said.

When Cosmo looked at him, Jack decided to take the high road. “Knowing Lizzie the way I do, I think she's going to love this house. The fact that you bought it for her with the best intentions will go a long way. Lizzie is the kindest person in this whole wide world.” He waved his arm about. “We can attest to that. So, if for some reason she doesn't like it, you sell it. It's that simple. But I wouldn't tell her to sell her little house. She loves that place, too. She makes us dinner, and we eat in the kitchen. Lizzie likes cozy and intimate.” Jack realized he was babbling and held back whatever he was going to say next.

Cosmo sat down on the window seat in the breakfast nook, a look of pure panic on his face.

“Don't listen to Jack. He has no decorating experience at all. Were you going to call in a professional decorator?” Harry asked.

“I didn't get that far in my thinking, Harry. I got the certificate of occupancy yesterday. As you can see, the house is ready to be moved into. The minute I had that paper in my hand, I realized that maybe I had overstepped my bounds a bit.” Cosmo looked around the kitchen and muttered, “This is not cozy and intimate.”

“But it could be,” Ted said. “Maggie says a kitchen should reflect the owner. She likes green plants, lots and lots of green plants. Bright colors, the right furniture, and copper pots are where it's at. Lizzie has a good decorating eye. I like her little house and have always felt comfortable when I'm there. You know, you can take your shoes off and feel at home. Then again, maybe it's Lizzie herself who makes you feel at home. Shit, I don't know,” he finished lamely.

The others pondered this startling bit of information and nodded sagely.

“Yeah, well, that isn't all you need. You need coordinated place mats and napkins, and the candles have to match. Then when they get stubby looking, you have to replace them. It's all about scent and ambience.” Suddenly Jack saw something in Cosmo Cricket's expression that he couldn't define. “This isn't about the house at all, is it, Cricket?”

Cosmo lumbered to his feet. He turned around to look out the bay window at the falling snow. “You're pretty astute, Emery. You're right. It isn't about the house. Well, it is, but it isn't. You know what I mean.”

Suddenly he had everyone's attention, their antennas fully extended. They waited for the Vegas attorney to enlighten them.

Cosmo cleared his throat. “No one knows what I'm about to tell you yet. It won't make the news till tomorrow, maybe the day after. Then again, they might hold back on it until later. People sometimes have a tendency to boast that they have friends in high places, and for the most part, it's probably true. I have a few myself, as I'm sure you all do, too. This one friend…is very high in the pecking order. She called me late last night and shared what she knew with me.”

“How high is high?” Ted asked, the reporter in him on high alert.

“The top. There's no place else to go from that particular slot,” said Cosmo.

This is like pulling teeth,
Jack thought. A chill ran down his spine. “And does Lizzie know about that call?”

“No, Jack, she doesn't. She was sound asleep when the call came in. I was scheduled to go back to Vegas today but changed my plans. Elizabeth thinks I'm on my way back. I didn't exactly lie to her. I am leaving, weather permitting, this evening.”

Bert's eyes narrowed. “Are you telling us someone so high up on the totem pole called you, I'm assuming in the middle of the night, and the FBI doesn't know about it? Who is that person?”

Cosmo held up hands that were as big as catchers' mitts and shook his head. “Actually, Bert, there were two calls last night. I guess I should have said that in the beginning. The first call involves the person and a personal decision he decided to make. He wanted me to know before anyone else.”

“And…?” Jack said, prodding.

Cosmo took a deep breath. To the others, it seemed like all the oxygen in the room was suddenly sucked out. “Justice Douglas Leonard called and said he's resigning in June, when the Supreme Court session ends. His wife, Florence, has a terminal illness, and he wants to spend his time with her. But the more I think about that call, the more I think…it just didn't ring true somehow. He said he was going to call President Connor at five o'clock this morning to tell her. President Connor called me at five thirty and told me she already had a short list ready should a vacancy crop up. Elizabeth is at the top of the short list. Elizabeth knows nothing about this. The president called to give me a heads-up, and I guess to see if I would give her any opposition, which I didn't, because I was in a state of shock.”

Cosmo sat back down, his shoulders quaking.

“Holy shit!” was all Jack could think of to say.

“Lizzie Fox Cricket a Supreme Court justice! Man, it doesn't get any better than that!” Ted said.

“Do you think Lizzie will want the position?” Jack asked carefully as he watched for Cosmo's reaction.

“I don't know. I know I'd certainly give it some serious thought if I were under consideration. I'm afraid for Elizabeth. My position in the gambling mecca of Las Vegas may not help her. She would make a top-notch justice. There was something about that call, though, that is bothering me. Maybe I'm too jaded, but the thought that maybe it was a setup of some kind did cross my mind.”

“Jesus, I can see the headlines now,” Bert said.

Ted whirled around, a snarl in his voice. “I hope you aren't referring to the
Post,
Bert. Maggie will be front and center, and you have to admit, she has a way with words. The
Post
will be on Lizzie's side, and woe to those who oppose her.”