In Plain Sight (25 page)

Epilogue

 

 

L
abor Day ushered in the end of summer, or, as Nikki put it, “I just knew when the pool would be finished, it would be by Labor Day. We can’t even take a dip, the water’s too cold, so the pool people installed a cover, and now we have to wait till next summer. The good news is that Jack and I are no longer living in a world of mud. I have grass!” She announced this like she’d just been handed the Holy Grail.

The gang, or as Charles referred to them, all his chicks, were on the terrace waiting for the holiday barbecue to get under way. Conversation was about everything and anything, none of it important in the scheme of things. Everyone was just glad to see one another and to unwind.

The gang had gone their separate ways after dumping Lincoln Moss in Nikki’s unfinished swimming pool. Kathryn had signed herself into the hospital and had the titanium bar removed from her leg. She’d been right all along, to the chagrin of the surgeons. She was allergic to the bar. She’d spent the entire six weeks, as she put it, working her tail off in therapy, and she was now good to go with nothing more than a slight limp. The good news was she was pain-free. And just as good was that Bert had finally managed to take some time off from Annie’s Las Vegas casino and was at Pinewood for the Labor Day holiday.

Isabelle had hunkered down with Abner and was still learning the tricks of his trade. Abner said she was a natural and was already almost as good as he was at the hacking game. They’d weathered their personal marital storm and were closer than ever.

Because of changes at the monastery that the monks wanted the parents to approve, two days after they walked away from Nikki’s pool, Yoko and Harry had gone to China for a rare visit. After their initial visit with Lily, which lasted only six hours, the two of them had toured China. They had just returned home ten days ago, sad yet happy.

Alexis and Espinosa had driven out West and gotten engaged all over again, but they were still shy about setting a wedding date. They were home now and raring to go, as Espinosa put it.

Nikki and Jack had taken care of business at her firm and spent long weekends touring the various countrysides, followed by a trip to the Big Apple just for fun. A totally uneventful six weeks, according to both of them.

Annie got a decorating bug, and she and Fergus took two classes on how to hang wallpaper. Annie’s house was now floral in design, which meant she had to buy all new furniture to go with the wallpaper. The bottom line was she was no longer sure if she liked the wallpaper, saying maybe she should have gone with stripes instead of flowers. Fergus said it didn’t matter as long as he wore sunglasses.

Myra went back to her knitting, determined to finish her “five-mile-long scarf,” which was now almost ten miles long. She trundled it around with her in a red wagon. “My knitting teacher, Claudeen, told me she thinks I should give it up and find another hobby. I’m not giving up, I’m going to make her proud of me yet.” No one said anything, even when she produced the red wagon with the monster scarf. She was satisfied with Charles’s comment that it was “impressive.” Like she didn’t already know it was impressive. Even Claudeen said she didn’t know anyone who had ever knitted a ten-mile-long scarf.

Jack Sparrow had finally signed the papers, and Nikki and Jack’s house in Georgetown was his. He’d even furnished it, with Amalie’s help. Amalie had moved into the spare room and paid Sparrow rent while she went house hunting after her return from visiting her family in France. She had finally found a house to her liking two streets over on P Street in Georgetown. They were an item, but only in a platonic sense. But that was rapidly changing, as was the relationship between Rosalee and Dennis West.

Rosalee would start her nursing classes in a week, thanks to a mysteriously financed scholarship that offered a full ride plus a stipend for living expenses. Everyone knew they were already “an item,” and everyone heartily approved.

Maggie and Ted, still reestablishing their relationship but hesitant about taking the final plunge, finished off the summer by simply working because, as the world knows, the news never rests. It was their job, a job they took seriously, to keep the public updated on world affairs. Neither was complaining.

It seemed like no one wanted to bring up the subject of Lincoln Moss, possibly because Amalie, the newest member of the family, was present. And yet it all hung out there like some unseen bad wind. Finally, Maggie said, “Okay, people, let’s talk about it, then we can move on.

“I’m not sure if any of you know this or not, but Avery Snowden had Mr. Moss sign over his power of attorney to Nikki. It was the only way he would agree to pull him out of the pool. When those critters we dumped in the pool brushed up against him, they, for want of better words, sparked and stung him. He thought he was being bitten and was going to die. Mr. Snowden said he never saw such fear in a man. Said he was so far gone, he could barely tell them his name when they finally yanked him out.

“Abner, with Isabelle’s help, donated his money to so many worthy causes I lost track, but it’s all documented. With Lizzie Fox’s help, we set up trusts for Rosalee, her family, Amalie’s family, and, of course, for Amalie, who said she didn’t want a penny of her husband’s money. Mr. Sparrow had a long talk with her, reminding her of all the modeling work she had done as the face of
La Natural,
work for which she had never been paid since her husband owned the company, and she finally agreed to a revocable trust that she herself would manage.

“We donated to all the usual, the Red Cross, the Heart Fund, various cancer research projects, animal causes, children’s causes, especially the one the First Lady is working on, and one for building homes for returning veterans. Weekend Warriors will never have to worry again; nor will St. Jude’s Hospital for children. Doctors Without Borders was a grateful recipient, and by the way, I do not know if this is true, but I heard from someone who should know that a nurse by the name of Jane Petrie is working with them. Oh, and last but not least, we helped ourselves to a very generous chunk of Moss’s fortune for future . . . um . . . missions.”

“Is it true, does anyone know for sure, if Moss was the one who outed all those politicians by informing Dominic Sludge?” Kathryn asked. “This whole town went crazy with all those resignations.”

“They’re saying it but can’t prove it. The hot gossip was about where did Lincoln Moss disappear to? Again, there was no answer. It’s all speculation. The good news is that President Knight is now his own man and is running the country the way it should be run and not the way Lincoln Moss wanted it run,” Myra said.

“That’s enough, folks. The past is prologue. We’re here to enjoy a family day, so let’s enjoy it. You all know what you need to do, so let’s get that grill fired up,” Charles said, like a commanding general, handing Bert a plate of chips.

Annie and Myra followed Charles and Fergus into the kitchen, where they took up their favorite spot by the kitchen window to observe their family. “Two new members to our family, Annie. How great is that?”

“Personally speaking, my dear friend, I don’t think it gets any better than that.” Annie smiled. “We did good, Myra. By that I mean we all did good. Look how happy Amalie is! And she’s going to be even happier when she ties the knot with Director Sparrow. It’s just a matter of time. And I guarantee that by the end of the year, young Dennis and Rosalee will be engaged.”

Myra laughed out loud. Always and forever the matchmaker. “Someday, I want you to tell me how you pulled off that nursing scholarship for Rosalee.”

“Whatever do you mean, Myra? Look,” she said, trying to divert Myra from her question. “Is it my imagination, or do Jack and Harry look . . . off their feed, anxious. Something is off. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I did notice that. I’ve never seen Harry agitated before. Never. He looks agitated to me. And Jack looks . . . I don’t know,
antsy
is the only word I can come up with. But does that answer your question?”

“Not really,” Annie said, a frown building on her forehead. She continued to watch Harry and Jack through the window, while Myra turned away to do something for Charles. A shiver ran down her spine. She wished she could hear what the two of them were saying. Something wasn’t right.

Annie was correct, she just didn’t know it.

Jack tapped Harry on the shoulder. “Hey, Harry, let’s go for a walk. I need to talk to you.” Harry suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t say anything but fell into step with his best friend in the whole world.

“Listen, Harry, I . . . this is going to sound really crazy, and I can’t help it, so will you hear me out?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I woke up this morning at 3:33. I never wake up at 3:33. I was wide-awake, like someone punched me in the gut. My head was buzzing with . . . thoughts. And then . . . and then . . .”

“You heard the name Cooper, is that what you were going to say?” Harry asked in a strangled-sounding voice.

“Yeah. Jesus, Harry, how did you know?” Jack asked, his voice sounding even more jittery than Harry’s.

“Because the same thing happened to me. Exactly the same thing. I was trying to get up the nerve to tell you all day. Spooked the hell out of me.”

“That dog is not . . . Cooper is . . . I don’t know what the hell Cooper is.”

“I have a text coming in,” Harry said, feeling his cell vibrating in his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to answer it? No one ever texts you except . . .”

“I know who it is,” Harry said in a choked voice.

Jack licked at his dry lips. “I know who it is, too.”

“Are we sure I should . . . ?”

“Yeah, Harry, I’m sure.”

For the first time the menfolk are stepping out of
the pages of #1
New York Times
bestselling
author Fern Michaels’s beloved Sisterhood
series and into the spotlight . . .

After years of standing by their womenfolk, the Sisterhood’s significant others have also become loyal friends. And now Jack Emery, Nikki’s husband, has enlisted Ted, Joe, Jay, Bert, Dennis, and Abner to form a top-secret organization known as BOLO Consultants.

 

Jack has two missions in mind. The first: offering some behind-the-scenes help to Nikki’s law firm as they take on the all-powerful Andover Pharmaceuticals. Andover’s anti-leukemia drug causes terrible side effects in young patients, but a class-action suit seems doomed to fail. BOLO Consultants have a prescription to cure that. Meanwhile, Virginia’s lieutenant governor has a sideline as a slum landlord, and his impoverished tenants are suffering. Tyler Sandford believes his status puts him above the law. But when the Sisterhood and their allies decide to get involved, no one is beyond the reach of true justice . . .

 

J
ack Emery propped his chin on his cupped hands and looked out the window of the Bagel Emporium at the blustery weather outside. His thoughts traveled back in time to a year ago, to the last day that Emanuel Macklin was seen. A lot had happened in the past year. Much of his life, and the lives of his friends, had been turned upside down. And sometimes he had a hard time coming to terms with the way all of it had happened at what seemed to be the speed of light.

He was a free agent these days. Right after the first of the year, he’d left his wife’s, Nikki’s, law firm, with her reluctant approval, supposedly to write a book. It was something that never happened. He’d done some consulting work for a few months, but that hadn’t worked either. He’d then stepped into his old shoes at the district attorney’s office, prosecuted two cases, and walked away. He’d won both cases but they were both on appeal. Some smart-ass defense attorney would come up with some frigging loophole, and the bad guys would be right back out on the street. So, disillusioned, he’d thrown in the towel and walked away, frustrated and angry at a criminal justice system that seemed to coddle the criminals and leave the good guys, the victims, to fend for themselves.

Jack’s eyes were glued to the red brick building across the street from where he was sitting. His building. Well, not totally his. He, along with Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, Harry Wong, Bert Navarro, and Jay Sparrow, owned the building. They’d invested the bonus money they’d gotten years ago when they worked for Hank Jellicoe, money that none of them had ever touched until a few months ago, when he convinced his little band of avengers that this was what they needed to do.
This
meaning buying the six-thousand-square-foot brick building, refurbishing it, and going into business together. Into a business that was completely off the grid. And today was move-in day.

In a shopping bag at his feet, he had a bottle of champagne, crystal wine flutes, and a jug of tea for Harry so they could christen their new business in—he looked down at his watch—ten more minutes. Next to the shopping bag was Cyrus, a huge, sleek, 140-pound black German shepherd, who was his new best friend forever. Cyrus was two years old and, as far as Jack was concerned, half human and half dog. Cyrus was so in tune with Jack, he knew what Jack was going to do before Jack knew it himself.

Four months ago, he had stopped in for his morning bagel while Cyrus waited outside. While he waited in line for his coffee and bagel, the door opened, and a man bellowed, “Everyone on the floor!” As he was dropping to the floor to obey the robber’s orders, Jack saw a black streak clear the door with inches to spare. In the blink of an eye, all 140 pounds of ferocious dog propelled the robber to the floor, then sat on him. Jack, in a lightning move, scooped up the gun the man had been brandishing while Domingo Lopez, known to his patrons as Ding, called the police. Cyrus was the hero of the day, and, as Ding said, “I don’t care what the Health Department’s rules are, Cyrus can come in here anytime.” His patrons agreed, and everyone else looked the other way. Jack reached down to pat the magnificent dog on the head. Cyrus nuzzled his hand.

Jack returned to his thoughts as he stared out the window. The weatherman had predicted a possibility of snow flurries later in the day. It was, after all, December, so snow flurries were to be expected. Just like last year, when the same prediction led to three weeks of arctic air and so much snow that the District had to shut down because there was nowhere else to move the white stuff.

So much had happened during that short period of time. Charles Martin had flown the coop, Jack and Nikki had hit a rough patch, and he’d resigned, to her initial chagrin. But in the end, she agreed because she just wanted him to be happy with his life. During the past year, her twelve-member all-female law firm had taken on six new associates and seven new paralegals. The expansion was needed to deal with three class-action lawsuits that would make the firm
kazillions
of dollars. If the workload didn’t kill everyone first. All they had to do was work twenty hours a day to make it happen. Sometimes, he didn’t see or talk to his wife for days at a time. What the hell kind of life was that? Things were still sticky between the two of them, but they were both trying to work it all through. Alexis Thorn, Joe Espinosa’s significant other, had given Espinosa the boot shortly before Valentine’s Day, saying she preferred her job to a relationship, and she hoped that he understood that she couldn’t do both. Espinosa did not understand, any more than Jack did. They’d cried into their beers way too many times over the last ten months.

Maggie Spritzer was back at the
Post
as the EIC after John Cassidy resigned because he didn’t have enough time to go fly-fishing. It had taken a lot of sweet-talking on Annie de Silva’s part to get Maggie back in harness, but, finally, all the perks Annie dangled in front of Maggie won her over, and she was once again calling the shots at the
Post.
Not a bad thing, Jack had decided at the time. Or as Ted put it, “She’s out of our hair for now.”

Jack’s little “guy group,” as he called it, had three new exclusive members and one long-distance member. The other members referred to it as “an off-the-grid spy group,” whatever the hell that meant. The name conjured up all kinds of weird images and possible scenarios. Bert Navarro was the long-distance member. Dennis West, cub reporter and Ted Robinson, hero worshipper, as well as a new billionaire, Abner Tookus, hacker extraordinaire, and Jack Sparrow, who out of necessity was called Jay for a little while, were the latest recruits to the off-the-grid avengers club.

Jack let his thoughts wander to Myra and Annie, who had settled in for the long winter ahead. The last time he’d checked with Myra, she was knitting.
Knitting.
She’d said she was making a scarf that was two miles long, and she needed a wagon to carry it in. Or, as Annie put it, one long line of colored yarn filled with sloppy stitches. Annie said she was taking cooking lessons and brushing up on her pole dancing. She had mumbled something about feathers on shoes, or maybe it was her white cowboy boots that she always wore, but he hadn’t understood a word of what she was saying. What he did understand was that, unlike the others, who were running themselves ragged, she and Myra were bored out of their minds.

Women! He would never understand them. Never!

Isabelle Flanders Tookus was still in England, designing a new-age city, and had no downtime available for Abner, which pretty much left him at loose ends and ready to dive into the guy group. Yoko, it appeared, at least according to Harry, was happier than a pig in a mud slide with her plant nursery and raising Lily, which left precious little time for Harry, who these days was meaner than a wet cat on a treadmill.

Kathryn Lucas, fiancee of Bert Navarro, thrived on driving the open roads in her eighteen-wheeler, making two stops a month in Las Vegas for, as Bert put it, booty calls. He also said theirs would be the longest engagement in history because Kathryn had no intention of ever marrying again. Bert said he was okay with the engagement because he had no other options, and he loved Kathryn heart and soul.

Cyrus raised his head, then reared up. He’d heard the sound of Harry’s Ducati before Jack had. “Okay, big guy, do your thing while I pay the bill.” Doing his thing meant going from table to table to offer up his paw and, with luck, get a little treat from his friends at the other tables. When he finished his rounds, he barked, and Ding came out from behind the counter and handed the big dog a monster dog treat. Cyrus barked, offered up his paw, and waited for Jack to open the door. Ham that he was, Cyrus turned and bowed. The patrons loved it and always clapped. Jack said, “You are the biggest ham I’ve ever seen, Cyrus. Hero worship is a sin. Do you know that?” Cyrus barked, waited for a break in traffic, and raced across the road to greet Harry, who obligingly ruffled his ears.

“Hi, Harry!”

“Hi, Jack!”

“Let’s walk around back so we can all go in together. I want us all to oooh and aaah at the same time. Ted just turned the corner, and I think I saw Sparrow come in from the other direction. Haven’t seen Abner yet, though. Oops, there he goes. How’s it going, Harry?”

“It’s going, Jack. You?”

“It’s going, Harry. You up for this gig?”

Never long on words, Harry said, “I’m here.”

“Let’s do it!” Jack said as he picked up his feet and raced to the back alley behind the newly remodeled property, where the guys were waiting for them. Cyrus barked a greeting, then offered his paw. It was a ritual that had to be observed, or Cyrus would bark relentlessly until the others made it happen. Satisfied that he had all the attention he needed, the big dog stood back while Jack allowed the retina scanner to check his eyeball, then listened for the hydraulic hiss of the door opening at their new, off-the-grid digs.