Game Over (11 page)

“I don't know. That's why I'm calling you. People in very high places, actually the highest in the land, might be responsible for letting it leak. My…uh…friends are trying to sort through it.”

“To what end, dear?” Pearl asked.

“Perhaps to cover up for a promise that isn't going to be kept. It was a well-planned leak that was meant to find its way to me. I'm concerned. My friends are more than a little concerned.”

“I see.”

“I'm going to throw out something to you, and I want you to tell me your knee-jerk reaction when I voice it, okay?”

“Shoot!”

“Is it even remotely possible that Mrs. Leonard could have a secret gambling problem?”

Her answer came back bullet fast. “Without a doubt. I told you, she's a numbers person. If you mean, does she hang out at gambling casinos, I'd have to say no. It wouldn't surprise me to know she does it online. You can do that, you know? Did you check the financials?”

“Not personally, but I heard their brokerage account is very anemic, where it was once very robust.”

Lizzie waited out the silence on the other end of the phone. “Let me be sure I understand where this is all going. Possibly Florence has a gambling problem and may have depleted their savings. And possibly someone is blackmailing Douglas and wants him off the bench, and that's why they're blackmailing him. Is that right?”

“More or less,” Lizzie said.

“Then you do not know Douglas Leonard. He has so insulated himself from the real world, it wouldn't bother him one bit. He'd consider it Florence's problem, not his. And do not forget for one minute that he has life tenure. Even if Florence turned out to be an ax murderer, he would still keep his job. I always wondered how the man found his way home at night. If you knew Douglas Leonard, you would never believe any of these what-ifs as even a possibility. Anything else, dear?”

“Then why would he agree to such a thing?”

“If you want my opinion, and it's just my opinion, dear, someone is using him, and he hasn't figured it out yet. Of course, if
he
dies, that's a whole other ball game. Now, if Florence died, it wouldn't cause even a ripple in his life, sad to say.”

Lizzie digested all the information, thanked Pearl, and hung up.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Lizzie mumbled to herself as she drained the last of her coffee. “I feel sorry for you, Madam President. No, that's a lie. I don't feel one bit sorry for you. Whatever they decide to do, you deserve it.”

 

Ted's eyes snapped open at five o'clock on the dot. He hadn't slept a wink, even though his eyes had been closed. He'd lived nightmare scenarios all night, one after the other. He was doomed. He brightened for a nanosecond when he thought Espinosa might have the answer to his
doomness.
Not.

“Shake it, Joe. It's five o'clock. We have to tidy up and get going.”

Espinosa struggled with the mound of quilts he was wrapped in. He slid to the floor and started to complain that he was stiff all over. “No shower and shave for me in this dump. I'll take care of the quilts and fire, and you warm up the truck. How'd you sleep?”

“Like shit, that's how. I'm doomed, Joe. Listen, I don't want to get married. I mean I do, but not right now. Maggie is going to kill me. First, she'll fire me, and then she'll stalk me and kill me. Then she'll take Mickey and Minnie.”

“Yeah,” Espinosa said cheerfully. “Get moving. I'm not getting in that truck unless it's warm.”

“You don't really give a shit about my life, do you?”

“Nope.”

Ted slammed his way through the house and out to the SUV. He cursed long and ripely when he saw the three inches of new snow that had fallen through the night. He slammed his way back into the house, yelling at the top of his lungs. “It snowed. We have to shovel. Did you see a shovel anywhere?”

“Yeah. On the back porch. The truck is your deal. I'm doing the fire and quilts.”

Thirty minutes later Ted had the SUV backed up and was heading down the lane and out to the main road. “I'm never coming back to Vermont,” he said.

“Uh-oh, here's a text from Maggie. Did you turn off your phone last night?”

“Well, yeah. If you were me, wouldn't you have turned yours off? What…what does she want?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, I would have turned it off, but she's pissed now. She wants to know where you are and what you're doing and what went wrong. What do you want me to tell her? Oh, she changed our flight. We're not going to Washington. We're going to North Carolina. She reserved a rental for us on arrival. We're to head up to Big Pine Mountain. Everyone is there. She isn't saying who ‘everyone' is. So, what should I say?”

“Say the roads are precarious, and I'm driving. She wants to announce to everyone that we're getting married. She sure works quick.” Ted groaned.

“Do you think it will be a festive time?” Espinosa grinned. “Balloons, confetti, streamers?”

Ted winced. “Probably all of the above.”

“I'm starved,” Espinosa said, hoping to drive the hopeless look from his friend's face. “Those canned string beans and dry cornflakes didn't do it for me last night. I want a robust everything breakfast.”

“How the hell can you think about food when I'm suffering like this?”

“My stomach doesn't care about your misery. Look, there's a diner up ahead. If you don't want to eat, I'll eat yours for you.”

“Did Maggie respond to your text?”

“No, she did not.” Glee rang in Espinosa's voice.

“Already she's pissed,” Ted said as he steered the SUV into the nearly deserted parking lot.

“Yeah, I think she was pissed.” Espinosa guffawed as he climbed out of the truck.

Ted offered up a single-digit salute as he followed his buddy into the diner.

I
t was midafternoon when Ted Robinson and Joe Espinosa stepped from the cable car. There was no one waiting to greet them or show them the way to the main building. Even the dogs were absent.

“I'm taking this as a personal affront, Ted. They could have sent the dogs out to greet us and escort us to the building. Doncha think?”

“What? And spoil the surprise! Remember the balloons, the confetti, and let's not forget the bells and whistles and all that backslapping and hugging that's coming. I can see all those women now, just waiting for another lamb to be led to the slaughter. That lamb would be me.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. You have about one minute to paste a smile on that puss of yours. Remember now, throw your hands in the air, do a little dance, and look like you're happy. If you don't, Maggie will kill you. In other words, perform, Ted, or your ass is grass.”

The duo slogged across the slushy compound in wet snow and ice that was up to their ankles. It was hard, but Ted worked up a smile, had his arms half in the air when they galloped up the steps to the porch and opened the door. His smile disappeared when he didn't hear joyous shouts of “Surprise!” He waited for the bells and whistles to sound and the confetti to fall, but it didn't happen. Maggie didn't rush to him with outstretched arms. Murphy gave a halfhearted bark of welcome, but that was it. Even Espinosa was nonplussed at these strange goings-on.

“What took you so long?” Jack shouted from the recliner, where he was leafing through a magazine.

“Eat me! Vermont is not exactly around the corner from this place. Besides, we had to walk the last fifty miles, then climb this godforsaken mountain, while you're sitting on your ass, reading a magazine,” Ted snarled as he peeled off his sodden shoes and socks. “Fetch, Emery! I need something warm, or I'm going to croak.”

“Yeah,” Espinosa said as he, too, peeled off his wet, ice-cold socks and shoes.

A voice erupted from behind Jack's chair. “Who is that uncouth person speaking? Ah, the Hardy Boys. You're late, so that means you don't get to know anything.” Harry Wong rolled over and extracted himself from his pretzel position.

“Eat me!” Ted snarled again.

“Not in your condition. I can smell you all the way over here,” Harry said.

“I'm going to give you that one, you terrorist, but if you'd been where we were, you'd smell, too. Anybody have any extra clothes we can borrow while we wash ours?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, brown bag, second bedroom. Did you guys get anything?” Jack said.

“Oh, yeah. But you ain't gettin' it till we brush our teeth, shave, and shower. By the way, where's Maggie?” Ted inquired.

“In the dining room. They're cooking,” Jack said.

On the way down the hall, Espinosa hissed. “That's where they're going to do it. Jack and Harry being here is a red herring to throw you off. C'mon, buddy, we have to hustle.”

“Why?” asked Ted.

“Because the girls are planning something. That means if we're late, it's either going to get cold or melt. And, the best reason in the world is that Maggie has no patience.”

Resigned to whatever was coming his way, Ted stripped down and hit the shower, while Espinosa brushed and flossed, then brushed and flossed a second time. Then he shaved. Twice. He stepped into the shower just as Ted stepped out.

“I'm feeling sick to my stomach,” Ted said as the foursome bundled up for the trek across the compound to the dining hall.

“Must be that heavy breakfast you ate,” Espinosa volunteered.

“Don't you mean the heavy breakfast that
you
ate, Joe? I just had coffee,” Ted replied.

“Guess it's prewedding jitters, then.” Espinosa guffawed. “You got it together, Ted? I'm going to open the door now. Remember, sparkle, sparkle. Be happy. This is your crowning moment!”

Smile in place, arms raised, Ted walked through the open door that Espinosa was holding for him. He blinked. No confetti, no streamers, no bells, no whistles, and no shouts of “Surprise!” This time Grady was the one who offered up a halfhearted bark. Delicious aromas were everywhere. The girls, busy, shouted out a greeting and went back to what they were doing. Ted didn't know if he should laugh or cry. He risked a glance at his partner, who was grinning like an idiot.

Maggie appeared out of nowhere. “You guys get good stuff?”

“You know it,” Ted said through clenched teeth.

Espinosa was still grinning as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the sideboard.

“Ted, can I talk to you a minute? In private, if you don't mind. Like out on the porch,” Maggie asked.

Oh, shit. Here it comes,
Ted thought as he pulled on his jacket and followed Maggie out to the front porch. He waited, his insides shaking like a tub of half-set Jell-O.

“Listen, Ted, the last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings. I love you. You know that. I'm just…what I mean is…I said yes when I meant to say no. Well, that's not true. I did mean yes, wanted to mean yes, but not now. I'm not ready for the house in the sticks, the van with sliding doors, and cooked meals every night. What we have is working for us right now. You know what they say. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. You and I, we don't need that piece of paper. I am yours forever and ever. I hope you feel the same way. Did all of that make sense?” Maggie asked fretfully.

Sweet Jesus, he was off the hook! Somehow or other he managed to let his face crumple into a look of pure misery. “Yeah, I guess so. I was so…I couldn't sleep all night. I couldn't wait to get here.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire
. “So your yes is now no.”

“Yeah, for now it's no. That can change at any time, though.”

Please, God, not anytime soon
. Play the game would be Jack Emery's advice. Still looking miserable, he said, “I guess I'll have to cancel the ring and wait until you're ready to say yes. I was going to pick it up on Monday.”

“No! I'll take the ring.”

Ted forgot about being miserable and thought about his bank account and how high his credit-card bill was. “You still want the ring?” he all but screamed.

Mistaking Ted's outburst for excitement, Maggie replied, “I said, ‘Yes, I'll take the ring.' What I really said was, ‘No! I'll take the ring,' but ‘no' meant ‘yes.' Oh, I can hardly wait. I know it must be beautiful, because you have such good taste. I'm going to stop chewing my nails so the ring will look even more beautiful on my hand. Oh, I am so excited! Tonight I am going to screw your brains out, so be prepared.”

A moment later Ted was left standing alone on the front porch. The guys joined him just as he said, “Fuck! I'm now engaged.”

“Oooh, oooh, what happened?” Espinosa asked. “Why aren't you looking happy, Ted? You're among friends here, buddy. I told the guys about your dilemma. They understand. Talk to us, buddy. It will make you feel better.”

“She said yes but said yes meant no, and she doesn't want to get married now but maybe soon, like in someday, and she loves me,” Ted revealed. “I should have left it there, but I wanted to make it look good, so I said I would have to cancel the ring or pick it up on Monday, or something like that, and she said no, but no meant yes and she'll take the ring. I do not have a fucking ring! She is expecting a fucking ring on Monday. Then she said she is going to screw my brains out tonight.”

Jack whistled. “That's heavy!”

“What's that translate to in the way of condoms?” Harry asked curiously.

Espinosa laughed, the sound bouncing off the mountain.

“I have the answer for you, Ted. Call our saviors, Miss Jill and Miss Patsy at Dorchester Jewelers,” Jack said. “Don't go too heavy on the explanations. Ask them to send you an emerald-cut diamond, platinum, size six, and to put it in a snazzy velvet box and overnight it to you at my address. You come by on Monday and pick it up, and your problem is solved, and Maggie will probably screw your brains out that night, too. I wouldn't tell that to the ladies, though. Their number is on my speed dial. You want me to call them for you?”

“How much is it going to cost?” Ted asked.

Jack huffed and puffed. “How would I know something like that? Everyone, even a fool, knows you can't put a price on love. Maybe you should be asking yourself what your life is worth if you don't follow through. If you have to ask the price, then you can't afford to get engaged. Just do it, asshole.”

Ted did it. “Miss Jill promised delivery for midmorning on Monday. Miss Patsy said she would personally pick out the diamond and knows I won't be disappointed. I promised to send a picture of my betrothed wiggling her finger for the camera.”

Jack reached for his phone. “See how easy that was!”

“Man, I'm glad I'm not you,” Harry said.

Espinosa stared off into space as he envisioned the day he might be in Ted's place, planning his own engagement to Alexis.

Ted sat down on the top step, not caring if his ass got wet from the melted snow, and cried.

 

The tantalizing aromas once again greeted the guys as they trooped into the dining room.

Nikki was pouring fresh coffee from the urn on the sideboard. “What's wrong with Ted?” she whispered in Jack's ear. “His eyes are all bloodshot.”

“He's catching a cold. Isn't that what you said, Ted?” said Jack.

“Yeah. Got my feet wet too many times. My mother always said when your feet get wet and cold, you get sick.” Ted reached for his cup of coffee and downed it in two quick gulps.

“Yeah, my mother always said that, too,” Jack said cheerfully.

Maggie looked horrified. “Teddy, you're getting sick! Why didn't you say something? I'll make you a hot toddy. Go over by the fire and wait for me. I don't want you getting sick on me now that we just got engaged.”

Ted managed to offer up a tortured groan as he did what his beloved ordered. Jack grinned, and Espinosa eyed Alexis, his mind racing. Harry, a strange look on his face that could best be described as sappy, cringed as Yoko tweaked his ear, then whispered something to him. Later, Jack described Harry's look to Nikki as one of alarm.

Then they were all seated at the table, looking at one another, with the exception of Charles, who was working in the command center. The questions came fast and furious.

It was Myra who held up her hand for silence. “One at a time, boys and girls.”

“I have an idea,” Annie said, jumping up, her eyes sparking. No one missed the jittery tone. “I saw it online yesterday, when I was reading the morning paper, and I've been thinking about it ever since. Listen to this, and tell me what all of you think. The White House, and I assume this was Martine Connor's idea, is planning a patriotic affair in three weeks. Lincoln, Washington, all the presidents. All the guests are to come as famous figures from past administrations. Even the ladies. Dolley Madison, Betsy Ross, Bess Truman. It's our own personal invitation to the affair, without the invitation. Are you all following me here?”

“I certainly am, dear,” Myra said. “We simply arrive in whatever attire Alexis dresses us in, stroll up to the White House with no invitation in hand, then march to the Oval Office, confiscate our pardons, and leave, presumably by the back door. Is that what you're saying, Annie?”

Annie nodded. “Exactly. You are so astute, Myra. And you are not clutching your pearls for dear life, and that alone tells me you think this will work.”

“It could work,” Nikki said thoughtfully.

“The invitations can be copied, right down to the grade of paper,” Isabelle said. “I can do them myself.”

“The costumes will be no problem. Three weeks is plenty of time for me to research it all,” Alexis said.

“I can play it up really well and give it a lot of press,” Maggie said.

“Harry's people can be security once we come up with something that will work,” Yoko said.

“What else did the article say, Annie?” Kathryn asked.

“Three hundred guests. A buffet dinner. Music. The article was skimpy on the details,” said Annie.

“That means security out the wazoo. The White House takes priority, so that means the District will have very poor security that night. I wonder if that guy Hank Jellicoe will be called in. If so, Harry's people can suddenly become
his
people. No questions asked,” Jack said.

“Forewarned is forearmed,” Bert said as he mentally tried to figure out how many of his people would be called in to assist the Secret Service. “A lot will depend on the checkpoints that lead to the Oval Office and who is manning them. The FBI hates these pissant affairs they throw at the White House.”

“I almost forgot. The article said some anonymous donor was paying for the shindig, so taxpayers shouldn't get upset,” Annie said.

“I wonder who that anonymous donor could be?” Myra asked.

“When and if you find out, dear, let us all know,” Annie said sweetly.

“Well, that's one problem solved. We just have to arrange the details,” Nikki said.

“Which then brings us to Lizzie and what, if anything, we should do about that.”

“I want to know whose side Hank Jellicoe is really on,” Kathryn said. “How do we know we can trust him?”

The door to the dining hall opened, and Charles appeared in time to hear Kathryn's last comment. His comment before taking his place at the table was, “It smells wonderful in here. I can't wait to sit down to dinner, one that I didn't prepare. But to answer Kathryn's question, he can be trusted. That's all I'm going to say. Right now we have another problem. I just got off the phone with Pearl Barnes. She said Lizzie called her last night to ask her some questions but said she couldn't tell her why she was asking. Pearl said she told Lizzie what she could, but she thought about the call all night and into today and decided she better call us just to be on the safe side.”