Blindsided (21 page)

“You're such a fool, Cee. After what we did to him, do you really think he'd show either one of us one ounce of mercy? You need to get real here. We're done. Finished. We either need to go to the Caymans or Switzerland right now, or better yet, split up—you take Switzerland, and I'll take the Caymans—and we can meet in Argentina the way we planned. Or did you change your mind on that, too, and didn't bother to tell me?”

“I'm trying to think, Nessie,” Celeste said as she roared out of the garage. “I'd appreciate it if you'd just sit there and smoke your funny cigarette until you fry your brain. I said I need to think.”

“Oh, wouldn't that be just the right answer. Then you can take all my money and you'll be the last man—in this case, woman—standing,” Nessie snarled as she puffed on her funny cigarette.

“Shut up, Nessie. If I hear one more word out of you, I will stop this car and dump you out on the side of the road. I told you, I need to
think.
”

“You said we'd never get caught. You said Peter would never come back. You swore to me, Cee. And now look at what's happening. How could you have been so wrong?”

“I don't know, Nessie. It all started with that boy reporter with that weekly paper no one reads. In his case, it seems everyone read it. Then things snowballed. We are going to leave. I'm just not sure when that time will be. We don't want it to seem like we're taking flight. We can't unring any bells. We'll split up like you said, possibly as early as this weekend. That will give us a two-day head start on the workweek. I'm not sure yet. We'll live just the way we've been living here, only better, in Argentina. Now, aren't you glad that I talked you into buying that gorgeous estate in Buenos Aires? The only difference will be we will not be working judges. We'll have every day to ourselves. We'll be welcomed into society and have whole new lives. We'll finally be able to make friends, to socialize. We won't be pariahs. We have enough money to last us several lifetimes. Now, does that make you feel better?”

“Yes, and no. You make it sound too easy. When something is easy, that's when it all goes to hell. We both know that.”

Celeste did know that. “Nessie, we have new identities. Tomorrow, when we get back, one of us will go to the safe-deposit box and get them. Remember how you pooh-poohed me when I told you we needed to do that? They are beyond a doubt the best forgeries I have ever seen, and I've seen as many as you have over the years. They might have cost a fortune at the time, but they were worth every penny. And it's nice to know the forger is in a federal prison and can't interfere with us. No one would ever tie us to him. Are you relaxing now, Nessie?”

Instead of answering her sister, Nessie asked what time it was.

“After six. Why?”

“I just like to know the time. Are we staying the night or driving back? I hate going and coming from Waterton in the dark. I don't know why that is; it just is,” Nessie whined.

“We're driving back tonight. We have court tomorrow. We have to act normal so as not to give off any vibes. We got away with today because we were robbed. We canceled court yesterday after that episode with your eyebrows. That certainly sent up a red flag. Relax, we're ten minutes from the house. We'll be back on the road in thirty minutes.”

True to her words, Celeste pulled into the shale driveway ten minutes later, just as her cell phone rang. Frowning, she clicked it on. She listened as Nessie walked up to the door and opened it. Even from where she was standing in the yellow glow of the sensor light, Celeste could see the panic on her sister's face. And that could only mean one thing. She identified herself and listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. She felt her shoulders slump and her knees sag. She almost blacked out, but she held on by sheer willpower.

I
t was close to ten o'clock when Maggie rapped on the door of what she called the presidential suite. Annie opened the door, a sheaf of papers in her hand. “What's up? Avery's people just delivered a huge urn of coffee. Do you and the boys want some? We also have some pastries and fresh fruit.”

“If it has my name on it, I'm ready.”

“Did someone mention coffee?” Ted asked, elbowing his way into the suite, followed by Espinosa and Dennis West.

Everyone started talking at once. Myra wanted updates on Abner Tookus, to which Maggie said she had not heard anything, and Abner had not called at eleven o'clock last night as he had promised he would. “His flight could have been delayed; he might not have made contact with the banker he was to see. It could be anything, really. He'll call; I just don't know when.

“Oh, this is good. The jelly pastry, I mean. The coffee's good, too. It's almost like an early-morning picnic. What are you all going to be doing while we go to Eberly's office?”

“You're looking at it,” Pearl said, pointing to the boxes and files. “This is going to take all of us the entire day. And we might not get through it all. You four plan on coming back here to help, right?” Her voice sounded hopeful.

“Absolutely, we'll be back. Having said that, we should be on our way. Anyone want to give us some advice?”

“Kick ass and take names later,” Nellie said.

“We can certainly do that, Your Honor.” Dennis West chuckled. “It's what we reporters do. Right, guys? Ah, and girl.”

Maggie gave Dennis a shove that sent him flying toward the door. “Move!” she shouted to Ted and Espinosa. “Bye, ladies.”

“I so hope that young lady is not disappointed when she gets to Mr. Eberly's office and Mr. Ciprani isn't there,” Marti said.

The women laughed.

“You don't know Maggie very well then. If she says her gut is telling her Mr. Ciprani will be there, he
will
be there. The big question is what will she do once she lays eyes on him? Maggie never takes prisoners. Nor does Ted. Joseph is their backup, and the young reporter is a wild card,” Annie said, her tone gleeful.

Myra sighed. “I don't think we have to worry about the youngsters. We need to get a handle on all of this.” She waved her arms around at the sea of white paper. “No more talk. It's time to get to work.”

The women fell to it, grimacing and grumbling as they bent their heads to the task at hand.

 

 

Less than a mile away, at the Baywater Courthouse, Eunice Ciprani opened the safe in her office and deposited the accordion-pleated folder containing bogus passports, fake international driver's licenses, and bogus credit cards, along with a bundle of cash inside. Cee was wrong when she'd said she thought there was $10,000 in the safe-deposit box. There was actually $47,000. Enough to pay cash for plane tickets and get them settled somewhere. For the first time in her life, Eunice actually felt like a criminal. “That's because I am one,” she muttered under her breath as she twirled the knob on the safe back to the zero setting.

Within minutes, Eunice was on her feet and slipping into her robe. She was like a runaway stallion as she hustled to her courtroom, where she apologized profusely to the lawyers and their clients. “Root canal.” She massaged her cheek to drive home her excuse.

“Court is now in session. The Honorable Eunice Ciprani presiding.”

Four doors down the hall, Judge Celeste Ciprani, sporting dark circles under her eyes, wearing no makeup, and with the collar of her blouse askew at the neck of her robe, rapped her gavel as she finished upholding a defense objection.

Good God, how many more hours can I sit here and do this?
Every nerve in her body was screaming at her. She looked down at her cell to see the text her sister had just sent. While cell phones were prohibited in the courtroom, Celeste and her sister ignored the rule. Rules were for other people. The single word she saw on the text didn't make her feel one bit better. Done.

Celeste only half listened as the lawyers for both sides prattled on and on about a case that should never have made it to her courtroom, her mind on what she'd experienced when she'd entered the courthouse earlier. No one looked at her. No one said a word, not even the security guards. Didn't they care that her home had been invaded, didn't they care that she'd been robbed? How could people be so callous? On her way to the courthouse, she'd rehearsed a little speech she'd give to everyone who inquired. Such a waste of time. Who cared what those dimwits thought anyway? Certainly not her.

“Sustained. Can we get on with it, Counselor; you're starting to sound like a broken record.” The attorney who was the object of the judge's rebuke glared at her. Celeste glared back, a look that said,
Do not try my patience today.

Celeste's mind wandered. Tomorrow was Halloween. Now, where did that thought come from? Halloween meant absolutely nothing to her other than in a week or two she'd see dozens of teenagers standing in front of her for some kind of vandalism. On the other hand, she didn't expect to be here, so why was she even thinking about rulings and handing out punishments? Maybe it was a good thing. She let her mind travel four courtrooms away to Eunice and wondered how she was faring. Sometimes Nessie could be such a wimpy, whiny child. Other times she was a devil on wheels.

“Your Honor, I object. Mr. Hatfield is deliberately impugning my client's integrity.”

“Get over it, Counselor. Objection overruled.”

Celeste looked at the bottom of her computer to check the time. She almost groaned out loud. Two more hours till the lunch break. Maybe she could throw a quick twenty-minute recess into the mix. She sent a text to Nessie. Twenty-minute recess. NOW.

“Gentlemen and ladies of the court. I'm going to take a twenty-minute recess so the two of you can get your stories straight. Get your ducks in a row, or I will do it for you, and dismiss this case, which never should have been brought to trial in the first place. There will be no more squabbling and verbal slurs below the belt in this courtroom. Tell me you both understand what I just said.” Both attorneys nodded sheepishly.

“All rise!”

Celeste almost flew out of the courtroom. She didn't bother to remove her robe. She ran down the hall to her sister's office. One of the clerks giggled to another clerk that Judge Celeste looked like Batman from the rear the way her robe billowed out behind her like a cloak.

Eunice looked like she was going to cry when she trudged into her office. She flopped down on her ergonomic chair and closed her eyes. “Everything is in the safe, Cee. You were wrong, though, about the money. It was a little more. I counted quickly but I think there's close to forty-seven thousand dollars, possibly a little more or a little less. Certainly enough for us to charter a plane one way. Listen, Cee, I don't know if I can get through the rest of the day.”

“You have to get through it, Nessie, just the way I do. Do you think it's any easier on me? Well, it isn't. I thought I would start screaming if I didn't call a recess. We can call an early lunch. Instead of the usual ninety minutes, let's go for two hours, saying we need to look up some case law. Instead of shutting down at four, we can shut down at three. If we do that, we can both hold on. Do you know tomorrow is Halloween?”

“I thought it was today. Is it important, Cee?”

“No.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“I don't know, Nessie. If it's tomorrow, then it's Judge Rhodes's party. Strange to have a party like that on Halloween. Don't pay attention to me, I'm just babbling. Of late, things just pop into my head. Out of nowhere. Tell me you're going to be okay.”

“I'm going to be okay, Cee. You look terrible.”

“So do you,” Celeste snapped. “On that lovely note, I'm going to head back to my courtroom. Are you clear on lunch and early out today?”

“I am clear, Cee. Since we're taking a long lunch, do you want to go home, where we can talk freely?”

“What makes you think it's safe to talk in our home?”

“Oh, God, I never thought of that. Well, if that's the case, we can just ride around and pick up some food and eat in the car. We didn't eat yesterday or this morning.”

“I don't think I could eat anything, Nessie, I really don't.”

“Okay, we'll just ride around and talk.” Eunice looked around, but her sister was already gone. She got up on shaky legs, straightened her robe, and made her way back to the courtroom. She fought the urge to cry all over again. Cee looked so . . . beaten. Just the way she felt. She forced her mind to think of other things as she settled in to what she called her judge's chair. How was she going to get all twenty-three of her Chanel handbags to Buenos Aires? Cee had said they wouldn't be taking anything with them, just carry-on bags. Maybe she could ship them somehow. Well, at least now she had something else to worry about.

 

 

While the twin judges were holding court, Maggie and her fellow reporters walked into Jon Eberly's office. She smiled when she saw a strange man get up from what was probably the receptionist's chair. He held out his hand. “Peter Ciprani. I must say you are tenacious. Look, this is not what you think it is. At least I don't think it is.”

Maggie introduced the others, then they all headed to what Eberly referred to as his kitchen, which had a table and chairs as well as a fold-out camping cot. Everything was tidy and neat as a pin. He offered coffee but had no takers.

Peter Ciprani was a tall man. He looked to Maggie like he'd been ill but was on the mend. It was easy to see that he'd once been rugged and deeply tanned. His hair was white, curling slightly around his ears, and he had the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen. She waited for the twinkle she knew was coming, and it did. And then he smiled, and the whole room lit up. His voice was kind and gentle.

“I guess you want me to go first. Is that it?” He smiled.

“It would be nice,” Maggie said.

“I'm sort of a missionary. I don't have any paperwork that says that. I'm affiliated with several missions and have been for twenty-five years. I'm more a volunteer and go where I am needed at my own expense. I was in Peru until a few months ago, when I picked up a very wicked parasite that no one there knew how to treat. I was sent back here to Georgetown University Medical Center, where I was until two weeks ago. Under quarantine, I might add. I'm cured now, so don't worry about catching anything contagious from me.

“As you might guess, spending all that time in a hospital with nothing much to do except watch television, I turned to the Internet and checked on things. That's when I found out my sisters had had me declared dead. I called on Jon, and he filled me in on life here in Baywater and brought me up to date on all my sisters' activities.

“I had no idea I was supposed to be dead. Of course I checked that out and found out my sisters had me declared dead years and years ago. I have to admit I found it very disconcerting. More so when I read my own obituary. I also found out my sisters helped themselves to my holdings. I wish you could have seen Jon's face when I showed up on his doorstep, and he realized I wasn't dead and buried.

“To a certain extent, I can understand my sisters' hatred of me. And it is hatred, make no mistake about that. Our mother died giving birth to Eunice and Celeste. My father . . . I guess the term today is
shut down
. He didn't want anything to do with two babies, girls at that. He doted on me until I was about twelve, then he realized I wasn't going to be a jock, a star athlete, or anything close. I was into the arts and the church. Something he couldn't understand. Refused to understand is probably more like it.

“We had nannies. Dad did look after me. We played chess, he liked opera, and so did I, so we did have a few things in common. I was a good student; he was proud of that. The twins were hellions. That he did not like. They were left to run wild, which they did. I tried to do the brotherly thing, but they hated me, so I quit trying. Flash forward. I went to an all-boys academy when I turned fourteen and from there to college. My father was land rich. He sent me a letter the last year of high school and said he was selling off some land and putting money in a trust for me. I said thanks. At that point I couldn't have cared less. I was into other things, and finance was not one of them. And then he fell on hard times. I have to say he was a smart man or else he knew the real-estate market. I went back into the records and saw how he made some astronomical deals money-wise. He set aside money for the twins to go to college, and after college, they were on their own. He died of natural causes shortly after he made all those land deals.

“After he died, I never went back to Waterton. Nor did I ever touch the monies in the trust. I had other personal funds I lived on during those years. I just recently found out how much was in the trust before I was declared dead. And my father left the ancestral home in Waterton to me, too. Was that fair? No, it wasn't. I was off doing my thing with the missions. It just wasn't important to me. Working with the missions is my love and will always be my love. I was always sure to leave information with the offices of whatever mission I was working for in case anyone needed to contact me. No one ever did. Ever. I also sent certified letters to the twins telling them that's how they could contact me if they needed to. I still have the return receipts provided by the post office, with each of their signatures saying they did indeed receive the letters. I'll be happy to provide them to you if you need them. I never heard from either one of them. The missions, knowing we work in volatile areas sometimes, are more than careful to keep records if loved ones inquire about us. We are always notified as quickly as possible. To my knowledge, no one ever inquired about me or asked after my well-being.