Eyes Only (4 page)

“As her due date approached, Betty/ Gretchen struck a deal, and Alicia and Marlo agreed to adopt the baby she was carrying. The Domingos had the good sense to engage the services of a lawyer. It was all done legally. We got all this from interviews the Domingos gave when trying to fight the girl's parents. Then they ran.”

“Where is the birth mother now?” Ted asked.

“According to the news reports, she was in a horrific car accident and is paralyzed from the waist down. She lives in a wheelchair at her parents' home on Spyder Island. She is an only child, and the bloodline stops with her. That's why the parents are so eager to get their grandchildren.”

“Where's the biological father? Does he even know he's a father? Did he agree to the adoption, or didn't Betty/Gretchen tell him? Seems to me that whoever gets to him first might have a shot at getting the adoption overturned,” Jack said.

Myra looked down at her notes, then over at Annie. “I didn't see where the Domingos ever said anything about the biological father. Did you, Annie?”

“No. My guess would be Betty/Gretchen did not tell the Domingos. Who knows if she told the father? This all happened during her senior year at the University of South Florida. Graduation has come and gone. It's five years later, and whoever fathered those children is long gone. The only one who probably knows where he is now is the birth mother, and you can bet your last dollar she's not telling Mummy and Daddy,” Annie said.

“What did Avery Snowden say? Is he going to protect the Domingos, or is he going to do a snatch and grab?” Maggie asked.

“A snatch and grab, after he explains what we're prepared to do for them. For now, Avery is going to turn the family over to Pearl Barnes, who will put them in her underground railroad. When we go to Spyder Island, we're taking Avery and his crew with us.”

Nikki weighed in. “I thought you said you didn't get much information? This is a whole bucketful. Imagine what we're going to get when we turn Abner loose. So when is the snatch and grab going down?”

“As soon as Avery locates the family. He anticipates that will be no later than noon tomorrow. He understands that time is of the essence,” Annie said.

“When do we leave for Spyder Island?” Alexis asked.

“The minute we get all our ducks in a row,” Myra said smartly.

There was excitement in Maggie's voice when she asked, “What's our game plan?”

“I thought you would never ask!” Annie chortled. “Tell them, Myra.”

“Our initial thoughts were that Ted, Maggie, Joseph, and Dennis would check out Gretchen Spyder's college years. That might entail a trip to the university to talk to her professors and advisers. Checking the yearbooks for special friends, locating them, and getting them to talk. Someone out there knows who the biological father is besides Gretchen Spyder. We want to know everything there is to know about her four years of college.

“Abner will do his financial digging on the family and Gretchen to see if there are trust funds and all that goes with that. He will also do a financial workup on the Domingos.

“Jack, you and Harry are up for Spyder Island. I'm thinking that Mr. Sparrow will be able to help you. Bert, you are odd man out and are needed back in Vegas, with the understanding that if things get dicey, you can be here in four hours. Does all of this work for everyone?” Myra asked.

“Who goes to Spyder Island?” Dennis asked.

“Just us girls at first. The following day, Mr. Snowden and his team will arrive. The minute you all have the information you are assigned to procure, you will also join us. The primary thing right now is securing the Domingos so we don't have to worry about them. Any questions?” Annie asked.

No one had any questions.

“Okay, then read the information in the folders in front of you to make sure I didn't leave anything out. We'll have a question-and-answer session, and if we're good, we'll terminate this meeting and go forward.”

“When do you want us to head to Florida?” Maggie asked.

“ASAP. Try for a flight first thing in the morning. You have my permission to fly first class,” Annie said generously. “Follow and go wherever your leads take you. Just try for results quickly. Colleges and universities usually have five-year reunions. Find out if Gretchen's class had theirs or if it is up and coming. It might be this spring, next month to be precise.”

Ted looked up and said, “We have four seats on the six-thirty flight out of Reagan National in the morning. Time for us to hit the road and pack some bags. Unless you need us for something.”

“Go ahead,” Myra said. “Check in with us by the end of the day.”

One by one, the others gathered up their belongings, checked to make sure nothing was left behind. Then they followed the reporters back to the main part of the house.

The good-byes were affectionate and loud, with kisses and hugs, some backslapping, and then the big old farmhouse was quiet, with only the dogs snorting and yelping.

“Annie, I'll take the dogs out. You go down to the cellar and get that bourbon. I'm so ready to sample it, it's making me crazy.”

“I just love it when you come up with a plan, Myra.”

“Me, too, Annie. Especially when we both know this kind of plan means we're both going to have hangovers in the morning.”

“You had to say that, didn't you?”

Myra giggled as she led the dogs out into the star-filled night.

Chapter 3

M
yra looked at Annie and laughed out loud. “You look like a punk rocker with your hair standing on end like that. The kids today pay out big bucks to get a hairdo like that. I know, I know. I don't look any better.” She continued to laugh as she measured coffee into the wire basket.

“It's true, Annie. We are getting older. Look at that bourbon bottle. All we could drink was a quarter of it before we fell asleep. I don't feel all that bad now that I've brushed my teeth. How about you?”

Annie picked up the bourbon bottle and measured it with her fingers before she placed it in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. “We'll just save this for when we return from Spyder Island. I think we were so wired up yesterday with the kids being here, the party atmosphere,
our sighting,
and the plans we made that we were just too tired.”

Myra smoothed down her own unruly hair and stared across the table at her best friend in the whole world. “I'm thinking, Annie, that we should do a little PR for our upcoming trip to Spyder Island. Like some Associated Press gossip. What do you think?”

Annie grinned. “You mean like Countess Anna de Silva, the second richest woman in the world, is going to take up residency on Spyder Island to write her memoirs? She will be arriving with a party of . . . say, twenty in her private Gulfstream on such and such a date. When this reporter caught up with the reclusive countess, she would neither confirm nor deny. That kind of PR?”

“Well, there you have it. Maggie and Ted couldn't have written it better. It might need some tweaking, but I like it just fine. As long as you leave the date of your arrival up in the air. Send the kids a text and tell them to get on it ASAP.”

While Myra poured coffee, Annie's fingers flew over the keys. “Done!”

“Ooh, I forgot something. Make mention that you are the
only
woman to own property on that prestigious island. Tell them to play up that male-only angle. That should put the Spy-ders' knickers in a knot.”

Annie's fingers again flew over the keys. “I'm getting really good at this. Dennis showed me how to use my thumbs more than my fingers. I really love that kid. Okay, done! Now what?”

Myra shrugged. “Why do I have to come up with all the ideas? You own the place. You've been there. Tell me what you think. As young Dennis would say, ‘This is your gig, Annie. The rest of us are just along for the ride.' ”

Annie propped her elbows on the table and stared across it. “I blocked all of that out of my mind, Myra. I'm flying blind here. I know that Angus Spyder III is a son of a bitch. He rules the island with fear and an iron fist, just the way his father and his grandfather did before him. Dominic told me that when he bought into it all. He's all about being the richest and the most powerful person in the world. According to him. I don't even know if that's true or if he was just bragging. I think Abner will be able to tell us if it's true or not.”

“Want some toast?”

Annie shook her head.

“Where do you think your fortune ranks compared to his? Do you have any idea?”

Annie shook her head again.

“Well, can you find out? Can you call that guy you're always snapping and snarling at on the phone and ask him?”

“I can.” Annie squinted to see the clock on the Wolf range. “It's early. I'll call him and wake him up. I just love doing that.”

Myra popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and got butter and jam out of the refrigerator. She knew Annie would eat a slice if it was put in front of her. It was all she could do not to laugh out loud as she listened to Annie on the phone. Her eyeballs stood at attention when she heard Annie say, “Well, that better not be true, Conrad. I want you to head to the office right now and send me everything that will back up what you just told me. And. Do. Not. Fudge. The. Numbers.”

“What?” Myra demanded.

Annie banged her fist on the table. “Myra, how would you like to lend me some money?”

Myra threw her hands in the air. “Did I just hear you ask me to lend you some money?”

“Yes, you did. It appears, Myra, I say ‘appears, ' that Angus Spyder has more money than I do. Of course, Conrad could be wrong, and I did wake him up. But on the off chance he's right, I cannot go to Spyder Island unless I'm richer than he is. I know that sounds petty, but we're playing in the big leagues here. Let's just say it's a woman thing. You understand that, right, Myra?”

“Oh, yes, indeedy, I do. How much?”

“Half a billion,” Annie said, without batting an eyelash.

“Okay,” Myra said, also without batting an eyelash.

“We'll let Conrad and your guy Henry handle the details, but you will have to call Henry. I think your positions in that oil company and Google will do the job. You okay with that? I'll pay you a handsome rate of interest. Short term. Ooh, Angus is not going to like this one little bit.”

“What rate of interest?” Myra asked craftily.

“Well, with the economy the way it is and the low interest rates . . .”

“Get off it, Annie. How much?”

“I was thinking 5 percent.”

“Wrong. Ten, or it's no deal.”

“Myra, you drive a hard bargain. Ten, it is. Shall we shake on it?”

“Nah, my arthritis in my right hand is kicking up this morning. Your word is good enough for me. Send a text to Henry and pretend to be me. My password is ‘Annie,' if he asks.”

“Oh, Myra, that's so sweet of you to use my name as your password. Okay, I'm doing it,” Annie said happily.

“I'm going to take a shower now. When you're done with Henry, call Abner and see what, if anything, he's come up with. He works through the night.”

Annie hummed under her breath as she tapped at the keys. She could feel an adrenaline rush coming on. Life on the wild side. She hated to admit it, but she lived for moments like this.
This
was why she got up in the mornings.

Knowing she would have to wait a few minutes for incoming texts, Annie looked at the near-empty coffeepot. Ah, caffeine and an adrenaline rush all at the same time. Life could not get any better.

She rinsed the pot, threw away the grounds, and prepared a new pot. By the time it finished dripping, Myra would be back, and there should be a blizzard of incoming texts. She rubbed her hands in glee as she walked over to the kitchen window to look out at the knoll. There was nothing to be seen except green grass and the last little bit of the early morning fog drifting away. It was fog, wasn't it? She leaned closer to the window to be sure. Just fog. Her disappointment was so keen, she didn't notice Myra come up behind her. She did feel her comforting hand on her shoulder, however. She whirled around. “I was hoping . . . It was just the last of the low-lying fog.”

“I know, Annie. I know. We had yesterday, so we have to be grateful for that. Now,” Myra said, leading Annie back to the table, “what do you have?”

Annie's eyes scanned the texts. “We are good to go. And you're making yourself a nice piece of change. Officially, I am now, as of”—she looked at the clock—“this moment, richer than Angus Spyder. Thanks to you, my dear friend.”

“Should you forward that information to Dennis to relay to the Associated Press?” Myra asked as she tried not to giggle at the expression on Annie's face.

“I just did. I am getting sooo good at this, Myra. Reminds me of my safecracking days. I didn't think I'd ever master that, but I did, didn't I? Now if I lose my thumbs, I am out of luck.”

The two old friends cackled in glee at what they'd just accomplished.

Annie headed for the second floor, leaving Myra alone with her thoughts, her cell phone, and her cup of coffee. Annie was back in thirty minutes, smelling of warm sunshine and fragrant flowers.

“Now what?”

“It's like the Army, Annie. Hurry up and wait. Sooner or later, the kids will get back to us. I'm all for stirring up some trouble, but I can't come up with anything. You got any ideas?”

No sooner were the words out of Myra's mouth than Annie's cell chirped to life. She clicked it on, identified herself, then waited for the person on the other end to speak. She wiggled her eyebrows at Myra, a wicked grin stretching across her face. “Well, what can I do for you this early in the morning, Mr. Carlisle of the Associated Press?”

Myra clapped her hand to her mouth so she wouldn't laugh. Young Dennis worked fast. Still and all, any news on Countess de Silva
was
important.

“You want me to confirm my upcoming trip to Spyder Island. My goodness, however did you come by that information? I do so try to keep a low profile.

“Yes, after all these years, I am considering taking up residency there. At least for a little while.” Annie listened again and responded to whatever it was that she heard. “I do seem to recall hearing that no females owned homes on the island. Whoever it was who said that obviously didn't check the records, since I've owned the property for over twenty years, and I can assure you that at no point during that time have I been of the male persuasion. No, of course it doesn't bother me to live in a man's world. I plan to change all that with my trip to the island. We women do have our place in the world now, don't we? An island makes no difference. An island, no matter how prestigious, is still part of the world.

“No, I don't have a definite arrival date as yet. A woman in my position has many affairs to be taken care of before she can . . . let's say, even make a trip to the hairdresser. Oh, yes, I travel with a full staff. I think it's safe to say there will be more than twenty of us and, of course, my personal security detail.”

Annie went silent as she rolled her eyes, which meant another question was in the offing. “Mr. Carlisle, I never discuss my personal finances, especially on the phone. I personally do not know anything about Angus Spyder. We . . . ah . . . do not travel in the same social circles. I know nothing of his holdings.”

Annie winked at Myra and said in a lilting voice, “Oh, I absolutely do think my net worth exceeds that of Mr. Spyder. That's as much as I'm willing to say. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Carlisle, I have a meeting that I must attend. It was nice speaking with you.”

Annie broke the connection, then banged her fist on the old, scarred oak table. “How'd I do, Myra?”

“That was just perfect. You did good. I think that will hit the financial networks at the speed of light, which tells me that Mr. Angus Spyder is probably right now checking whatever he can where you are concerned. You need to give young Dennis another raise. Oh, I forgot. It's not like he needs one. Did he ever accept the last one?”

Annie shook her head. “Now what do we do?”

“Play on the computer, make plans for when we get to Spyder Island. Unless you want to go over to Nellie's to see how she's doing. We can take the golf cart. Or we could go into town and have a nice lunch. All the wheels are in motion, so we just have to wait it out.”

“I just took a shower, so gardening is out. I'm not hungry, so that leaves Nellie. Let's do it. I'm driving.”

 

 

Maggie swiped at her forehead. “I didn't expect it to be so hot here in Miami at this time of year. Nice campus. Bet it's great going to school here in the winter, with all the sunshine and these gorgeous palm trees.”

Ted parked the rental car in visitor parking, and the foursome got out.

“This is where we separate,” Maggie said. “Dennis, you head for administration. Get what you can on Gretchen Spyder. Ted, you and Espinosa ferret out her guidance counselors and a few of her professors, and I'll take on some of the professors myself. It's eleven o'clock. Let's meet back here at the car at two thirty and compare notes. We might hit it lucky first shot out of the gate and be able to take a late flight back to Washington tonight. If not, we'll have to find a hotel and go at it again tomorrow. Any questions, advice, whatever? No! Okay, see ya later. Oh, Espinosa, take pictures of everything and everyone.”

“Yes, Mother,” Espinosa drawled.

Dennis sauntered off with no game plan in mind. He let his mind go back to his days in college. It seemed like a hundred years ago. He looked around, stopped a student in shorts and flip-flops with a backpack, and asked for directions. He listened intently and set off. The kid had given precise instructions. Maggie was right. It was hot as hell, and he was wearing long pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

Inside the building, Dennis looked at the different signs and followed the directions to the place he wanted. To his surprise, no one was standing in line to be waited on, and there were two students behind the counter, one tapping on a computer and the other one copying a pile of papers. The girl doing the copying stopped and walked up to the counter.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

Dennis went into the spiel that he'd come up with on the fly from the moment the backpacking student had given him directions until he walked through the doors. He lowered his voice and said, “Gee, I sure hope you can help me. My cousin attended college here five years ago, and she . . . she disappeared. My aunt and uncle asked me to come here to see if the university could help us in any way. I know five years is a long time, but they've exhausted every other avenue. You're our last resort. Her name is Gretchen Spyder. She was an honor student.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and said, “We think white slavers snatched her.”

“Oh, my goodness. I'd like to help, but you know the privacy laws and all. I can't. Did you try the dean?”