Vanishing Act (22 page)

What puzzled him more than anything, though, was the fireplace. A fireplace on an island whose yearly temperature held steady at seventy-five degrees seemed bizarre. Maybe they’d fashioned the room from a picture in a magazine. Or, perhaps when storms came in off the ocean, the temperature dropped, and a fire could be built. He really needed to find out the answer because sooner or later one of the girls was going to ask him the question. He made a mental note to find out, then got down to work.

An hour later, Charles returned poolside and sat down just as one of the maids arrived with a frosty pitcher of tart lemonade and a plate of freshly baked something that looked like scones. The moment she returned to the house, Charles whistled sharply, and everyone got out of the pool. “I have an update.”

“I hope you’re going to tell us why this place has three fireplaces,” Kathryn said.

“Actually, Kathryn, I do know. The previous owner saw a picture in
Architectural Digest
and liked what he saw. He particularly liked the idea of having a mantel. I am assuming he had treasures he was going to place there at some point in time. And when storms come through in September and October, the temperature will drop to the fifty-degree mark. There are bundles of birch logs in the garage in case you get the crazy urge to light a fire.

“Moving right along here. I spoke to the office manager of Nikki’s old law firm and to Lizzie, who is on the first leg of her delayed honeymoon. The three memory sticks we passed on to the firm held the name and Social Security number of every person whose identity was stolen. Strangely enough, one of the sticks contained only the names of the kids in foster care, which apparently was a separate operation from the others. Restitution will be made as soon as possible. In some cases, like Harry’s, for instance, a substantial bonus will be paid for pain and suffering. The firm will be working directly with the three major credit reporting agencies to delete all the negatives and help the victims get their lives back on track.”

“And Bonnie and Clyde?” Alexis asked.

“You’ll never have to worry about them again. They’re in custody, and the
FBI
can truthfully say they captured them since Bert’s agents freed them from the bathroom, where they were tethered to the toilet.

“Furthermore, the memory sticks had a record of the names and addresses of all their accomplices: the people who used the credit cards to buy merchandise and those who picked up the illegally obtained items and put them up for sale on the black market. The
FBI
will be having a field day going after those slimeballs.”

“What about the banks that allowed all this to happen?” Kathryn asked.

“Well, Chase recognized that they were at significant risk of being taken to the cleaners by lawyers for the former foster-child victims whose identities were stolen by one of Chase’s own employees. They will be treating each of those cases as deserving of a large payment for pain and suffering, even if the child is still in foster care and has not yet suffered any known loss.”

Charles smiled. And then he laughed out loud. “Finally, I think you might really enjoy what I’m about to tell you. It seems the bank presidents recently held a minisummit of some sort, and, remarkably, they all agreed to hire a professional to handle their Internet banking security to make sure this doesn’t happen again. The professional’s name is Abner Tookus.”

Maggie’s fist shot in the air as the others whooped and hollered. “How much are they paying him?” she finally managed to ask.

“High seven figures,” Charles said with a straight face. “I’m told they had to coax him to come back from his honeymoon in Hawaii.”

The Sisters and their guests laughed so hard they didn’t hear Charles say, “Well done, girls, well done indeed.”

They were the vigilantes, and they were women.

Of course the job was well done.

C
harles stood in the middle of the compound and rang the bell; the sound was pure and clear as it ricocheted over Big Pine Mountain. The Sisters scurried from all directions into the main building.

All were breathless as they took their seats in the command center at the round table. Murphy and Grady were panting from their long run up and down the paths with Alexis and Kathryn, something they did every afternoon.

The simple explanation was that the bell meant there was business going on in the main building, and Charles was waiting to discuss it.

“I can’t believe tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” Kathryn said. “I’ve never seen three and a half months go by so fast since we returned from the island.”

The others agreed, their thoughts on the guests who would be arriving shortly to celebrate the holiday. Only Lizzie would be absent, as she was on the return leg of her honeymoon. But she’d called, and arrangements were set up to have a webcam visit after Thanksgiving dinner.

Nikki stared out the window at the last of the autumn leaves blowing in the late afternoon wind. Her thoughts were on Jack’s arrival. Her heart ached with loneliness. Three and a half months of not seeing the person you loved was three and a half months too long. She brought her thoughts back to the present when Charles called the meeting to order. Suddenly she was on her feet. “I have something to say!”

Startled, the others stared at her. Myra’s hands flew to the pearls at her neck. She was certain she’d never heard that tone in Nikki’s voice before. She risked a glance at Annie, who was suddenly alert.

“Can it wait until we get our business done with?” Charles asked.

“No! No, Charles, it can’t wait. I want to speak now. I need to speak now.”

“You have the floor, dear,” Myra said.

Nikki cleared her throat. “I’m sick of waiting for Martine Connor to grant our pardon. I think it’s time we did something about it. She promised to pardon us. We made sure she got into the White House, and she hasn’t taken one single step to keep her promise. To me, a person is only as good as her word. I want to make another point. It’s been three and a half months since I’ve seen Jack. Yes, he and the others are coming up the mountain in a few hours, and, yes, they will be here for a four-day weekend, but then they’ll be gone, and we’re back to being alone again. My clock is ticking. I want to get married, I would dearly love to have children if it’s in the cards for me. That is not going to happen unless Martine Connor gets off her duff and keeps her promise. I’m sick of the stalling, sick of the promises that don’t materialize.”

“Dear, Lizzie has been working on our case, you know that,” Myra said, her grip fierce on the pearls around her neck.

“Well, Myra, Lizzie isn’t here, now, is she? She’s been working on our case for so long my hair grew three inches. What that means is Connor is bullshitting her, and excuse my language. I thought Lizzie was smarter than that, I’m sorry to say. Connor has been in office almost two years. She said she needed time, we gave her time. Then she said the time wasn’t quite right, so we waited again. Then there was that business with the vice president. We pulled her out of that one, and she still didn’t honor her promise. I for one am sick and tired of waiting, and I also think we need to take a vote here as to what our next project is.” Nikki, her face red from frustration, flopped down on her chair and glared at Charles.

“Are you finished?” Charles asked calmly.

“I said what I had to say,” Nikki snarled. She looked around at the other Sisters, who appeared stunned at her outburst.

“She speaks for me, too,” Kathryn said coolly.

One by one, the others all agreed.

“I think this means you have the floor, Charles.” From the pocket of her Windbreaker, Myra withdrew a strand of the clanking metal circles. She was about to loop them around her neck when Charles held up his hand, panic in his eyes.

“I was going to address this particular problem at the end of our discussion, but since you are all in such a wicked mood at the moment, I will address it now.

“Lizzie informed me a week ago that she is going to be taking the job as chief White House counsel on January 2. There were many details to iron out before she would commit, and she wanted Cosmo’s assurances that he was all right with what she was planning. Mr. Cricket okayed her taking the job.

“Now, the reason Lizzie is taking the job is because of all of you. She put so many restrictions on the table, she knew that if Connor agreed to them, she had the inside…‘skinny,’ as she put it, to expedite your pardon. She said she felt she could make it happen within six months. What we’re talking about here is another six months of waiting for it to happen. Six months is not a lifetime. Seven months, if you insist on counting December, but in December we will have guests for two full weeks. So, essentially six months, ladies.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Alexis demanded.

“Because Lizzie wanted her new husband’s approval first. She’s putting her new married life on hold for all of you. That says to me she thinks she can make it happen. For all she’s done for you, don’t you think you owe her that vote of confidence?”

Myra moved the metal necklace from one hand to the other. The clanking noise was the only sound in the room.

“Let’s table that vote until we’re finished with our other business,” Annie said.

Nikki was so relieved at the reprieve that she felt light-headed. She looked at the others, who were smiling at her the way sisters smiled. She had their vote, she could see it in their eyes.

“All right,” Nikki said.

“There’s not much.” Charles picked up a square box that looked heavy. “Inside this box is a record of the resolution of all Bonnie and Clyde’s identity theft victims’ cases. The last checks were mailed to the recipients five days ago, just in time for Thanksgiving. They were substantial and should make for a very merry Christmas. The other banks involved, recognizing their liability for their own employees’ misconduct, did essentially what Chase did for the foster-kid victims. You ladies made thousands of people very thankful this year. Your firm, Nikki, worked around-the-clock to make this happen. There is a surplus of money, mostly interest the monies earned while it was offshore. Where do you want those monies to go? Anonymously, of course.”

“We talked about it earlier, Charles. We want half of it to go to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, and the other half to the center that helps find missing children,” Annie said.

“Commendable, ladies. Consider it done. Now, what name did you all come up with for the island?”

Yoko stood up. “We unanimously agreed to call that slice of paradise Flower Island.”

“Flower Island it is. One last thing. I have a request for your help. The time frame will be so tight if you agree to take it on that I don’t know if you want to step in or not.”

“Tell us what it is, and we’ll let you know,” Kathryn said.

Charles squared his shoulders. “It’s bleak, and it’s terribly sad. A client showed up about ten days ago at Nikki’s old law firm. She and her husband, with the aid of a lawyer, hired a surrogate to give them a child. They paid $50,000 to the surrogate plus legal fees. They also paid all medical expenses for the surrogate. The couple borrowed the money from relatives and friends. They had a beautiful baby daughter whom they loved dearly. Nine months later the surrogate decided she wanted her baby back. She sued. The couple lost the baby because they didn’t have the funds to fight the lawsuit.

“The young mother was devastated. The father got angry and decided to do what he could to make things right, which pretty much turned out to be nothing. He went on the Net and threw things out there, hoping something would stick. Basically what he was asking was if anyone out there had gone through the same thing, or knew of someone else who had gone through it, to get in touch with him. He came up with three other couples whose babies had been reclaimed by the surrogates. The couples all used the same lawyer but different surrogates. All the couples are in the same financial situation as the first couple.

“What they want to know is this: is there a way for you to get their babies back before Christmas? I called Pearl Barnes, and she’s got her people working on it as we speak. The decision, of course, is entirely up to you, but your firm would like an answer as soon as possible. The sooner you give me your answer, the sooner I can get to work.”

Annie looked around the table. “How could we not take this on? Just raise your hands, and let’s get on with it.”

Everyone in the room, including Charles, raised a hand.

Myra slipped the noisy necklace back into her pocket.

“Are we adjourned?”

The Sisters all looked at Nikki.

“We’re adjourned,” Nikki said quietly.

“We didn’t vote on Martine Connor,” Kathryn whispered as they walked through the door.

Nikki looked up at Kathryn and smiled. “I know.”

A
SPECIAL
INTERVIEW
WITH
FERN
MICHAELS

QUESTION
: With so many novels of yours published—many of which are
New York Times
bestsellers—did you ever imagine you would have such a prolific and successful career as a writer? How did you first get started? What put you on the path to becoming an author?

FERN
MICHAELS
: Never in a million years did I imagine I would be where I am today. I think I knew someway, somehow, that I was going to write
something
someday in the fourth grade when I wrote a story about a tadpole and the teacher gave me a big red A. What put me on the path to writing years and years later was when my youngest son went off to kindergarten and my husband told me I had to get a job. Being a wife and mother did not qualify me to go into the outside workforce. Plus, and most important, I didn’t have a car to get to and from work. So I thought I would try my hand at writing a book. It was that simple. What was even more amazing was that the storytelling came easy to me. Please note, I did not say the
writing
came easy—it was the storytelling part that worked for me.