Payback (14 page)

“Thanks, Mark. I’ll see you at three-thirty. You did real good tonight. I owe you for this.”

“Don’t think I’m going to forget it either,” Mark snapped as he let himself out of the apartment.

All the way back to his apartment he could only think about Dr. Julia Webster. He hoped she would be all right. Then he started to worry. Did the security monitors pick up his license plate when he was turning the car around? He wasn’t sure but he thought he backed up far enough so that he was outside the ray of light over the keypad before he swung the Pathfinder down the drive and then out to the highway.

Maybe he wasn’t going to sleep after all. Maybe he needed to call Ambrose Coxney instead of E-mailing him. No point in leaving a paper trail. He could always take a nap later on.

Mark let himself into his apartment. From long years of training, he stood in the open doorway and looked around trying to see if anyone had entered his apartment while he was gone. The peanut shell was still where he’d left it by the front door. The pencil was still lying across his keyboard, the eraser pointed toward the Backspace key. He nodded in satisfaction as he headed for his bedroom and his shower. When he returned to his spare bedroom turned office, he was wearing pajamas and slippers. His receding hair was slicked back and his wire rimmed glasses were polished. He reached for an apple and a box of crackers to fortify himself as he logged on to his computer. He needed a picture of Charles Martin to forward to Ambrose. He remembered seeing one on the Rutledge Candy Company Web site. It was taken when Charles Martin signed on as new chief of security at the factory years and years ago. With luck, Ambrose could match it up from his side of the pond to Martin’s dossier when he was with MI6.

As his mouse clicked and clicked, Mark realized Jack was on to something serious.

Myra was about to turn off the kitchen light and follow Charles upstairs. The others had retired earlier, leaving them alone to share a late night cup of tea. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see movement on the monitor by the security gates. “Charles, someone is coming
through
the gate. Who is it, dear?” She ran to the door to peer out in the rain. “It’s Julia! Quickly, Charles, something’s wrong.” Before Charles could get up from the table, Myra was running outside and across the lawn to where Julia was staggering toward her. Myra caught her in her arms just as Charles arrived.

Charles reached out and scooped Julia up in his arms. She moaned in pain. Like Mark Lane, he was stunned at how little she weighed.

Inside, Myra ran to the laundry room for towels and blankets. She returned in time to hear Julia say, “He was so livid, he lifted me off the ground and started punching me. Then he put me down and kicked me in the ribs. Your operative arrived just in time and got me out of there. He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I told him to bring me here. Just tape me up, Charles. I took some Advil but I need some more. I don’t want to mix my meds with painkillers. Even if I went to the hospital, all they would do is take an x-ray and I’d have to lie through my teeth. Mitch thinks I went to the hospital. I told him I would say I fell. At that point I would have said or done anything to get out of there. I think I’d like some brandy, Charles.”

Myra moved out of Julia’s eye range, her hand fluttering, panic written all over her face. She needed both hands to grasp the brandy bottle. In the end, she got more of the plum brandy on the counter than she did in the glass.

Charles worked quickly, taping her ribs, then sliding a soft T-shirt over her head. He held Julia in his arms as she sipped at the fiery liquid. Her eyes watered at the onslaught on her throat. Exhausted, she leaned back. “It feels so much better with the tape. It doesn’t hurt to breathe. Stop worrying, Charles, I’m a doctor. I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t be so fine if your man hadn’t showed up when he did. Mitch was…he was so…so violent. He saw the eleven o’clock news and that’s when he turned on me.”

Charles released his hold on Julia and walked deeper into the kitchen so Myra could dress Julia in warm clothing. He was as close to panic as he’d ever been in his life. What in the name of God was Julia talking about? What operative of his had intervened?

He galloped up the back stairway and ran down the hall to Nikki’s room. He knocked and then entered. She was sound asleep. He shook her gently. “Shhh, it’s me, Charles. I need to talk with you.”

Nikki reared back and sat up, her eyes frightened. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me something happened to Myra. Please, Charles, don’t tell me that.”

“No, no, it’s not Myra. It’s Julia.” He quickly recounted what had just happened. “I don’t know, Nikki. Maybe it was Jack. I don’t think she’s ever met him so how could she know? She’s so fragile and she’s in a lot of pain. I don’t want to frighten her so I thought you and Myra could sit with her and get the whole story out of her. She’s going to be devastated when she realizes the man who saved her isn’t one of our people. The best we can hope for right now is she didn’t give up anything. Hurry, Nikki, before she drops off to sleep. I need to know what we’re up against.”

Nikki bolted from the bed and raced downstairs, her heart pumping in fear.

“Julia, Julia, I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Nikki asked, dropping to her knees beside the sofa where Julia was lying. Myra sat cross-legged on the floor, holding Julia’s hand.

“I’m OK, Nikki. I’m going to be stiff and sore for a few days but I will make it tomorrow night. I just won’t be going with Mitch.” Her eyes drooped and then closed.

Nikki watched as Myra threw a light blanket over Julia. “What did she say?” Nikki whispered.

Myra motioned Nikki to follow her out to the kitchen where Charles was waiting for them. His eyes were full of questions. Both women shrugged. “She’s sleeping, Charles. I didn’t have the heart to question her. Morning will be soon enough.”

“No, Myra, morning won’t be soon enough. We have to get on top of this right now. Otherwise, we have to postpone tomorrow night’s activities.”

“It’s the middle of the night, dear. What can we possibly do other than wake up Julia?”

“Julia is bound to stir eventually. I want you both to sit with her. The moment she opens her eyes, question her. I’ll be in the command center. What bothers me is that she never met Jack Emery. It could have been Jack who rescued her. Julia did say the man said he was from the FBI and very nice. She said the letters, FBI were on the back of his windbreaker.”

Nikki turned off the stove and filled three cups with water and tea bags. Something tugged at her, something she should be remembering. She twirled the tea bag in her cup, frowning. FBI. Who did she know in the FBI. No one. Who did Jack know in the FBI? “Oh, my God! Mark Lane!” The agent had stopped by their table once when she and Jack were at McGuire’s.

At Charles and Myra’s startled looks, she explained. “Jack has a friend who’s an agent at the FBI. I met him once. Nice guy. Kind of sad, though. He had a heart attack shortly after he joined the FBI. He was a field agent, a good one, too, according to Jack. After his recovery he became a computer programmer. Maybe Jack…I’m reaching here, Charles, but maybe Jack enlisted his help. I can tell Julia what he looks like. If it was Mark, we’re in trouble.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with on Agent Lane. I might be able to get a picture. Do you know where he went to college or where his hometown is?” Charles asked.

“I don’t know where he’s from but he went to Duke University with Jack. It was a long time ago, Charles. I just have a foggy memory of it. I more or less homed in on the fact that a young guy like him had a heart attack. I’m sorry, Charles.”

“No, no, that’s perfectly understandable. The fact that you remembered at all is a tremendous help. Come to the command center if Julia wakes and tell me what she says.”

Myra sipped at the herbal tea and eyed Nikki over the rim of her cup. “How…how serious is all this, Nikki?”

Nikki wished there was something she could say to drive the worry from Myra’s eyes but there wasn’t. “About as serious as it gets. I guess it’s time to do something about Jack before he involves someone else. I don’t know if we have any other choice, Myra.”

“I am so sorry, dear. I wish…oh, Lord, I wish so many things. If you want to…”

“Stop right there, Myra. I’m not going to back out of the Sisterhood because of Jack Emery. We just have to find a way to deal with him that will work to our advantage.”

“Can he be bought? A bribe?”

“Don’t even go there, Myra. The short answer is, no. Jack has an ego and that ego has been bruised by a bunch of women. It’s not that he’s against women or anything like that, but he goes by the book, it’s black or white. There are no gray areas where Jack is concerned. He lives for the law. At least he did. In a million years he would never be able to deal with what we’re doing. He wants us locked up and the key thrown away. And, don’t forget, he’s been called on the carpet, courtesy of the governor’s call to the police commissioner on your behalf. Last but not least, he’s bent out of shape because he thinks I chose you over him.” Nikki threw her hands in the air to show what she thought of that particular statement.

Nikki eyed her adopted mother who looked exhausted. “Myra, go to bed. You haven’t had any sleep yet. It’s going to be a busy day and night. You need some rest. I’ve had a few hours sleep so I’ll sit with Julia. I need to do some deep thinking. It’s all doable, Myra, so don’t be worried. If I need you, I’ll call you.”

“All right, dear. You’re right about me needing some sleep. I’m sorry but I do worry. I feel so terrible about you and Jack. I wish…never mind, good night, dear. Be sure to call me if you need me.”

“I promise. I’ll check in on Charles in a bit.” Nikki allowed herself to be hugged before she waved good night.

Nikki made fresh tea and carried it into the den where Julia was still sleeping on the sofa. She stared down at her friend and wondered how she herself would handle what Julia was going through if the situation was reversed. I’d probably be a raving lunatic, she thought. She sat down, mumbling a prayer for Julia that somehow, some way, a miracle would happen for her.

Nikki’s mind raced as she sipped at her tea and struggled to come up with a solution to what was going on in her life. Eventually, because she was tired, she dozed off to be awakened hours later when she heard Julia whisper her name. “I need to use the bathroom, Nikki. Can you help me get up?”

Both women were back on the sofa minutes later. The clock on the mantel said it was four o’clock in the morning. “I’m all right, Nikki. I’m sore but that’s to be expected. Can you get my cell phone out of my bag? I want to see if Mitch called.”

Nikki rummaged in Julia’s bag until she found the phone. She watched as Julia pressed a series of numbers to pick up her messages. A look of pure fury replaced the pain in her face as she suddenly threw the small phone across the room. “Typical, Mitch, threaten and intimidate when he doesn’t get his way. He
demands
that I come home. Like that’s really going to happen.”

“Tell me what happened, Julia. Don’t leave anything out. We need to get a handle on all of this before tonight.” Nikki leaned back in her chair, her legs tucked beneath her. The scene could have passed for a girls’ sleepover where telling secrets was the order of the day.

“The eleven o’clock news came on and this woman, Connie McBride, who was number three on Mitch’s slut list, appeared. She denied having an affair with the distinguished senator from Pennsylvania but she was flattered nonetheless. Do you believe that? Maybe late twenties, married to a first term congressman. Long legs, artificial boobs, blonde. Beautiful. Any man would be attracted to her. Compared to her, I look like a down and out bag lady without even a cardboard box to sleep in.

“Mitch and I had words. Before I knew it, he grabbed me under the arms and lifted me off the floor. He’s really strong. We were screaming at one another. I told him to put me down, and he just…he just dropped me. I literally saw stars. Then he kicked me. It would have been worse but I moved when I realized his intent. The pain really rocked me.

“I couldn’t believe it when there was a knock on the kitchen door and the man said, open up, FBI, or something like that. I knew instantly that it wasn’t the FBI but one of Charles’s people. Mitch didn’t know that, though. He asked for ID, and this guy Tom showed him his badge or whatever agents carry around. I was in so much pain I wasn’t paying too much attention.

“Agent Warwick picked me up and I told him to take me to the hospital — that was just for Mitch’s benefit. Just seconds before I whispered for him to bring me here and he said OK. He was so nice, Nikki. So concerned. I had the feeling it was all he could do not to punch Mitch out. He really did want to take me to the hospital.”

Nikki’s heart fluttered in her chest. “I want you to think very carefully, Julia. What exactly did the agent say and what did you say to him? Exactly, Julia.”

A flicker of fear showed in Julia’s eyes. She clutched the light blanket with both hands. “I did most of the talking. Agent Warwick…that’s what he said his name was, was concentrating on his driving. The weather was terrible. I was babbling. I was so upset, Nikki. We talked about Charles. I kept saying I was so grateful Charles had sent him and he arrived at just the right moment. We talked about Charles being in Her Majesty’s service. I said I didn’t even know what his British name was. He said Charles was a legend in his own time but it was before his time. That kind of thing.”

“Did you mention tonight’s activities?” Nikki asked carefully.

“Yes. I talked about the mission, he seemed to understand and didn’t ask any questions. Why, Nikki? You’re starting to scare me.”

“Tell me what he looked like. Did you have to give him directions out here?”

“No, he knew the way. He was plain-looking, sandy hair, receding a little. Young — and by young I mean maybe mid thirties. He was wearing an FBI windbreaker. The letters were big and yellow on the back. He wasn’t fat but he was a little overweight for his height, which was about five-eleven or so. He was extremely competent and I felt safe with him. He seemed more concerned with my well-being than anything I said. I don’t know, Nikki, I was in a lot of pain and gulping Advil. Say it, say I screwed up.”