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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Blindsided
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“I'm sorry, ladies, but whatever Maggie has to say will have to wait. You all know my rule.”
“Ah, yes, no business talk at the table. And the reason for that is so we can all appreciate your culinary endeavors. We get it, Charles.” Myra smiled.
“Then let's gobble this down quickly,” Annie said as she dived into her pancakes, which looked so light and fluffy she thought they might fly upward.
A devil perched itself on Charles's shoulder. “Chew each bite twenty-two times. As you all know, I do not stock antacids in this house. I refuse to accept that my cooking will give anyone indigestion. Chew, ladies. In addition, when one is excited while eating and conversing with excitement, one swallows air, which then leads to gas.”
“Stuff it, Charles. We've heard it all before. Look,” Annie said, pointing to her plate, “I'm done unless you want me to lick the syrup off the plate.”
“I'm finished, too,” Myra said, a glint in her eye.
Charles didn't bother to answer when he pointed to Maggie's plate, which was still piled high with his special fluffy pancakes. The mound of crisp bacon was still on the side of her plate and yet to be devoured.
Annie groaned and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She looked at Myra, who sighed in resignation and held out her cup for a refill.
It seemed like forever before Maggie finished her breakfast. Myra and Annie waited a few moments for Charles to whisk away the plates before they started to grill Maggie. “Talk!” they said in unison.
Maggie looked around the table. Suddenly, she felt like she was on display. She took a deep breath. “I don't know if you're going to be interested or not, but I know that when I read about it and saw the media coverage, I thought of you. Do you remember that judge in Pennsylvania a few years ago who was arrested for sending children to boot camps and getting kickbacks from the developers who built the camps? Kids as young as ten who later, it was found out, didn't need to go to such places. One youngster committed suicide. It was all over the news. They were hellholes of misery for those kids. He raked in millions of dollars. Do you remember it?”
“Yes, it was horrible,” Myra said. Annie and Charles both nodded that they, too, remembered what she was talking about.
“I saw that poor mother being interviewed. That miserable cretin of a judge showed no sign of remorse at the boy's death, and said the money he was paid was finder fees. The developer said it was a kickback. The judge got sentenced to twenty-eight years in prison.”
“If the judge is in prison, what do you think we can do? I don't understand,” Charles said.
“I guess I didn't make myself clear. The Pennsylvania judge and what he did was an example, just a starting point. The criminal justice system actually worked that time, and the system took care of him. He'll probably die in prison.
“But something along the same lines is happening in Baywater, Maryland, where I just came from, only there are two judges, and both of them are free as the breeze. They're twins. They preside over family court, juvenile court, and civil court. Eunice and Celeste Ciprani are their names. They come from a very political family that goes back like forever. From what I can gather, they are untouchable.”
“No one is untouchable,” Annie said vehemently.
“Then you don't know the Ciprani twins,” Maggie said. “Listen, I came into this whole thing a little late. Actually, I just started hearing about it the week before I came here. At first I thought it was just local politics, but then I overheard a few things, read a few things, and asked some questions. I got shut down real quick, so my antenna went up, and I came here. I think it's something that needs to be looked into. The local papers are on the side of the twins. There was one weekly paper with a young reporter who took a stab at it, and if I'm right, got shot down; and the weekly printed a retraction.”
“What did these twin judges do?” Myra asked, her interest piqued.
“I don't mean to sound vague, but I'm not sure. What I was able to glean from the little I heard and read was something along the lines of that judge in Pennsylvania but on a grander scale. Remember now, I was more or less out of it for ten months and wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me. It was only when I finally came out of the fog I was living in that my reporter instinct kicked in. It's all there. I can feel and smell the corruption. I know I'm right. I'd like to work on it with Ted and Espinosa, then have you ladies step in.”
“So what you're saying is the whole court system in Baywater is corrupt, is that right?” Charles asked.
“The twins control the courthouse. At least that's what I've been told. In addition, it appears that all the family money was gone. And judges don't make the kind of money to support the lifestyle those two judges enjoy. We would need to delve into that. Abner Tookus can help if he's still in the game. They have a big mansion on Chesapeake Bay. Those don't come cheap. If there's no old family money, where did they get the funds to pay for it? They drive high-dollar cars. And it doesn't hurt that they look like movie stars and dress and act like movie stars.”
“Ooooh,” Annie said, clapping her hands in excitement. “I'm liking how this is sounding. How old are these twin judges? Do you know?”
“I'm not sure. I've only seen pictures. I'd say early fifties if you discount the Botox. From the pictures I've seen, they both look like they've been nipped and tucked, sliced and diced. Hey, I'm just a reporter. I report what I
see.

Annie and Myra laughed out loud.
“Any paramours in the picture?” Charles asked. He looked to the ladies like he wasn't quite getting it. The ladies continued to laugh.
“No clue, Charles. I'm sure you can find out, though. As I said, I came into this late. I think . . . I really do, that this is something that requires—”
“Our brand of justice,” Annie chirped as she finished Maggie's sentence.
“How long will it take you to do a background check, Charles?” Myra asked. “It goes without saying that Annie and I are very interested in knowing more. Nellie, Pearl, and Marti are due back in town this evening around seven. I think we should convene a meeting immediately.”
“I can call Abner and ask him to do what he does best. You all probably know what's going on with Abner these days since he married Isabelle. He is still in the game, right?” Maggie asked.
“I believe so. We haven't had an occasion to call him for his services lately. I think you should call him and put a rush on it.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Payment?”
“Whatever he asks for. He always comes through for us, and I see no point in haggling and causing stress to anyone,” Annie said.
“Okay, but Abner expects me to haggle. I think it's part of his game. As long as he thinks he's sticking it to me, it works for him. Now that he's an old married man, it's possible he changed the rules,” Maggie said.
“Do your best, dear,” Myra said.
“Then, ladies, if we're finished here, I'll get to work. Dinner will be whatever you can find in the fridge,” Charles announced.
“Then I will take Maggie home and get her settled in. I'm sure she has calls to make and things to do until this evening. While she's doing that, I may cook something and bring it over. Is six o'clock okay, or do you want it closer to seven o'clock?” Annie asked.
“Shoot for eight, Annie. As long as you don't plan on bringing hot dogs. Try to be more imaginative, dear. In my texts to the others, I said eight o'clock.” Myra smiled to take the sting out of her words.
“All right, ladies.
Dismissed,
” Charles announced, getting up from the table and heading to the huge bank of computers in the room the women called his lair.
Back in the kitchen, Maggie looked around for the backpack that she never traveled without. She said she carried her life on her back because she didn't trust safe-deposit boxes, dresser drawers, or hidey-holes in an attic or cellar to safeguard her life's precious records.
A short conversation ensued as Myra reached for her jacket so she could take the dogs for a run. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she heard Maggie ask Annie if she had her old job as a reporter back.
“Of course, dear. I have to be honest. I don't know what to do about Ted. He's done a magnificent job as the paper's editor-in-chief. It was hard for him to step into your shoes, but he did it, with a few mishaps along the way. I don't want any hard feelings.”
“Annie, look at me. Ted would be happier than a pig in a mudslide if you'd fire him and let him go back to being an investigative reporter. It will be the three of us again. Ted, Espinosa, and I were a team for more years than I care to remember.”
“I'll call Ted when we get home. I'll ask him to come by this afternoon, and we can make plans. I just don't know who I can replace Ted with,” Annie fretted as she stared out to the parking area at the back of Myra's house.
“Take my car, Annie. Ask Ted and Espinosa to pick up your car and drive it out to the farm when they come to see you.” Myra picked up a set of car keys and handed them to Annie.
“John Cassidy, Annie. He'll make a good EIC. Just tell him to stay out of Ted's, Espinosa's, and my hair.”
“I can do that, dear. You're sure about John, Maggie.”
“I am sure, Annie. He has printer's ink in his veins like his father and grandfather before him.”
“All right then, that's good enough for me.”
The golden retrievers raced ahead of the women. Myra shivered in the cold. “It feels like the temperature dropped ten degrees in the last hours.” She looked overhead at the scudding clouds. A strong gust of wind almost blew her over as she walked Annie and Maggie to her car. “I think it's going to rain later.”
“Feels damp,” Annie said, climbing behind the wheel. “Call me this afternoon and we'll compare notes.”
“Okay.” Myra leaned in the open car window. “I'm so glad you're back, Maggie. We all missed you. Call the girls; they'll love hearing from you.”
“I will as soon as I get settled. Thanks for being you, Myra. And for whatever it's worth, there are no words to tell you how much I missed you all,” Maggie said tearfully.
Myra nodded and stepped back as Annie backed up the car and headed for the gate.
Myra felt tears prick her eyelids.
“Don't cry, Mom. Everything is okay now.”
Myra whirled around and clutched at her pearls. “Darling girl, is it really you?”
“It's me, Mummy. Maggie needs you all. Shower her with love the way you used to shower me with love. She needs it, Mom.”
“I will. Of course I will,” Myra gasped. “I wish I could see you. I wish I could take you in my arms, darling girl.”
“I have to go, Mom. I want to watch over Maggie. I love you, Mom. The dogs need you right now.”
“And I love you, darling girl.” Myra wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. She barely noticed the dogs sitting at her feet, their heads cocked upward as though they were listening to her spirit daughter. One of the dogs nudged Myra's leg. She looked down and rubbed the dog's sweet spot between her eyes before she turned to walk back to the house. The normally rambunctious dogs trotted along behind her protectively.
“It's all right, girls. That was my daughter. Shhhh. We're good now.”
Chapter 4
F
ive miles down the road from Myra's farmhouse, Annie swooped into her own driveway and screeched to a stop. Maggie gasped. “I think that short ride was just like flying in a plane, Annie. You do have a heavy foot. You know that, right?”
Annie sighed. “Everyone is a critic. I have things on my mind. What do you think I should prepare for dinner, dear?”
Her eyes still wild at the crazy trip, Maggie said, “Spaghetti and meatballs.”
Annie's heart fluttered in her chest. “Spaghetti and meatballs! I think I can do that. But I'll have to scoot into town to the market for the ingredients. You know where my office is. Go on in and do what you have to do. The key is under the mat.”
“Lots of garlic, Annie,” Maggie called over her shoulder as she skipped her way up the short flight of steps to the deck leading into Annie's kitchen. She eyed the pumpkins, which were decoratively arranged along with a scarecrow and some bales of hay. She correctly assumed that Annie decorated for Harry Wong's little daughter, Lotus Lily. She winced at the sound of Annie's burning rubber in her haste to get to the market.
Like she was really going to the market. Spaghetti! Meatballs! In a million years, she could never make spaghetti, much less meatballs, that would be edible. Even with a cookbook.
Twelve minutes later, Annie pulled into a parking spot at the Roma Italian Eatery. She bounced into the deserted restaurant and bellowed for Pasquale, who came on the run.
Seeing Annie, he put his hands on his hips, and said, “Company, eh? How much?”
“Enough for seven people. Lots of garlic. And two dozen of your garlic twists.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Miss Annie? Just fry some garlic in olive oil and it will permeate the whole house and make it seem like you cooked for
hours
.”
“Yes, yes, okay. I got it. Just get it ready, Pasquale, and I will be forever in your debt.”
Pasquale, a short, chubby, happy little man, shouted a string of Italian. The only thing Annie understood was her name and the word
loco.
At least that's what it sounded like to her.
“You will, of course, return my containers at some point?”
Annie paced the confines of the small foyer. “Don't I always? You better throw in some garlic while you're at it. I don't think I have any at home.”
“Of course. Many times I have offered to show you how to cook the sauce. I ask again.”
“One of these days, Pasquale. This is just easier. Onions along with the garlic, right?”
“Wouldn't hurt, Countess,” Pasquale said, tongue-in-cheek.
Ten minutes later, Annie settled two large shopping bags in the trunk of Myra's car. She cringed at the pungent aromatic garlic wafting from the bags. Oh, crap! Now she was going to stink up Myra's car, and the jig would be up.
Pasquale came up behind her as she was about to close the trunk. He was holding out a large box of baking soda. He shrugged. Annie started to laugh and couldn't stop. She hugged the little Italian and handed over a wad of bills, not knowing if it was too much or too little. If she was short, she'd settle up when she returned Pasquale's containers.
Annie waved as she roared out of the driveway and headed home. She let out a sigh so loud, she swore the birds overhead started to squawk. She ran into the house and called out Maggie's name. When there was no response, she walked up to the second floor to see what was going on. Maggie waved, her cell phone to her ear as she tapped on her laptop. Annie mouthed the words, “I'll bring up coffee later.” Maggie nodded.
Annie galloped back down the stairs and out to the car. She raced back into the kitchen and, within minutes, had everything in the containers transferred to a huge spaghetti pot Fergus had insisted she buy last year. Within seconds, she had garlic and onions smelling up the whole house. She dumped it all into the larger pot and then washed out the fry pan and put it back on the rack.
Her eyes on the clock, Annie bundled everything up into the shopping bags and ran out to the barn with them. Hot dogs would have been so much simpler. She was breathless when she returned to the kitchen to make the coffee she had promised Maggie.
While she waited for the coffee to drip into the pot, Annie took long, deep breaths and exhaled. “I'm too old for these shenanigans,” she mumbled to herself. “Next time it's hot dogs, for sure, and Myra will eat them or I'll stuff them down her throat.”
“Wow! Annie, you sure do work fast! It smells so good in here. I could smell the garlic all the way upstairs. Oooh, oooh, I can't wait for dinner. I guess you really did pay attention to those cooking lessons Fergus gave you,” Maggie said from the doorway.
Annie waved her hands airily. “Half the battle is being organized. I'm organized.”
Liar liar, pants on fire.
“Coffee, dear?”
“I'd love some coffee. I don't know how you do it, Annie. Ted is on his way with your car. I explained everything, and he's over the moon. He doesn't think it's his place to talk to John Cassidy, so that's something you'll have to do. Do you think you want Ted to stay on to show John the ropes for a few days or just let him plunge in? If you want my opinion, I think John can sit in that chair and not miss a beat. Ted's raring to go. I don't know who's more excited—me or Ted. Oh, Annie, I feel like the weight of the entire world is off my shoulders. Thank you so much for taking me back. And thank you for understanding.” Maggie babbled nonstop.
Annie smiled. It was so good to see Maggie smiling and happy. She knew she would have setbacks from time to time, but she knew that in short order, the young woman would move forward and leave the past behind her.
“I called my tenant, and he agreed to move out next week. I agreed to pay his first month's rent on his new place. Nice guy, and he said he understood, so I will be out of your hair by this time next week. Is that okay, Annie?”
“Of course, child. I told you that you could stay as long as you like. I just rattle around here by myself since Fergus left. My housekeeper will be back next week. I gave her the time off because her granddaughter just had a new baby, and I was going to Vegas.”
Maggie leaned across the table. “Do you miss him, Annie? Was he the one for you?”
“I do miss him. Was he the one? There were times I thought so and other times I thought,
No, he's not the one.
It doesn't matter now. He's gone, and he won't be back. At the end of the day, dear, family is what's important, and I'm happy that Fergus is back with his children. It doesn't matter what the reasons are. Life is too short for unhappiness and to yearn for something you can't have. That's how I have to look at it, and I'm okay with it. I don't want you worrying about me, Maggie.”
Maggie smiled. “I love you, Annie. You always make it right for me. I hope someday I can do something for you to really thank you.”
“Dear girl, you don't have to wait for someday. Today, I'm happy if you're happy. Now, how much did you tell Ted about your case?”
Maggie laughed, a joyous sound. “Just enough to get him all riled up and raring to go. I have a good feeling about all of this, Annie.”
Annie got up to pour the coffee. “I do, too, child. I do, too.”
It was a comfortable silence as the spaghetti sauce bubbled on the stove, the heavenly smell of garlic, onions, and cheese permeating the air, to Maggie's drooling delight.
From time to time, they spoke of everything and nothing as they watched the muted small-screen TV perched on Annie's kitchen counter.
“Maggie, did you call Mr. Tookus?” Annie asked, breaking their comfortable silence.
“I did, Annie, but my call went to voice mail, which I thought was strange. In all the years that I've known Abner, he has always answered his phone. Actually, I think his phone is glued to his ear. I have never had to leave a message. I did leave one, but he hasn't called me back. I'm sure he will at some point.”
Annie shrugged. “Mr. Tookus is married now. Perhaps he went on location with Isabelle, who is designing a new shopping mall in upstate New York.”
Maggie laughed. “Are you saying his phone won't ring in upstate New York?”
“No, not at all. He might be busy. I think in his other life, he could have been an architect himself. You saw where he lived. We all did. He did that all himself, and it was so good they featured his loft in
Architectural Digest.

“I know all that. It doesn't matter what is going on in his life; he answers the phone. It's who he is. Maybe it's me he doesn't want to talk to. Things got rather contentious between us way back when. You should try calling him, Annie, to see if he picks up when
you
call.”
Annie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, scrolled down for Abner's number, and clicked. She listened to Abner's ominous voice telling the caller to leave a name and number, which she did. She rolled her eyes and shrugged as she slid the phone back into the pocket of her slacks. “I guess we just wait to see if he calls one of us back. I'm sure there's a reason why he isn't answering. It could be as simple as being out of the area of a cell tower. It could be anything, dear, so don't take it personally.”
Maggie chewed at her nails, a disgusting, hateful habit she owned up to and wasn't able to break. “I can't wait to get started on this. It's been a long time, Annie. I just hope I haven't lost my edge.” Her tone was so worried, so fretful sounding, Annie hastened to assure her that the moment she put on her investigative reporter cap, things would fall into place. “It's like riding a bike—you never forget how to do it.”
“Two judges, Annie. Twins. You really can't tell them apart, at least in the pictures I've seen. I bet anything that they've stood in for each other on the bench and no one knew the difference. That's a scary thought in my opinion. Not to mention illegal. Think about it, Annie. The plaintiffs, the defendants, the lawyers couldn't tell the difference. If it's true. By the way, I also placed a call to the young reporter on the
Baywater Weekly,
the guy who brought all this to my attention. I called the paper first, and they said he was on a leave of absence, and, oddly enough, they gave me his cell phone number. I left my number and my e-mail address. He hasn't returned my call either. My gut tells me he's hiding out.”
“And you think that means what?”
“Why do people take a leave of absence? Why would he hide out? Think about it. Intimidation would be my guess. He's a young guy, so I doubt he's sick. It's obvious to me that he took this leave after his paper printed that watered-down article. I heard something about a retraction, but I don't think that happened. Someone put a clamp on things. He must have talked to the wrong people, asked the wrong questions. I'm just talking out loud. It might be something as simple as taking a late-in-the-year vacation. One way or another, we'll track him down. The
Post
can always use another good reporter, right, Annie? You know, in case we have to dangle a carrot for him when we do find him.”
“Absolutely. You do whatever you need to do, Maggie. You think, then, that this young man was or is onto something?”
“I do, Annie. Reporter's instinct. Maybe no one else saw what I saw between the lines. And it is a local weekly paper. People don't devour weeklies like they do the dailies, and the dailies not so much anymore now that people can read their favorite newspapers online.”
Annie turned her attention to the back door of her state-of-the-art kitchen. “I hear a car. Must be Ted bringing my car back.” She got up and looked out the diamond-shaped panes in the door. “It's Ted and Joseph. Ah, I'm pleased to say that there are no visible signs of dents or bumpers falling off, at least that I can see.”
Maggie laughed out loud. “Ted isn't the cowboy driver you think he is. If anything, he drives below the speed limit. Espinosa is worse. He creeps along on the highway, and other drivers blow their horns at him. In my opinion, they are both hazards on the road. You have to keep up with the speed limit. Both of them used to make me crazy because it would take us twice as long to get somewhere as opposed to when I was driving.”
Annie smiled. “I guess that's good to know.” She opened the door and hugged her two employees. Coffee was offered and accepted. Both men sniffed, and Ted lifted the lid off the spaghetti pot.
“Ah, my favorite food on earth. I could smell it all the way outside.” Espinosa seconded Ted's endorsement.
Annie felt out of place as Ted and Espinosa sat down at the table and proceeded to share thoughts and ideas on Maggie's news. Ideas were bounced around at the speed of light as plans and suggestions flew just as fast. The trio were in their element as they relived old times and mapped out an itinerary. At one point, Ted turned to Annie, and said, “I moved all my stuff out of the office, with Espinosa's help. I even watered your plants, Maggie.”
“Really! I thought for sure you'd let them die.” At Ted's stunned look, she added lamely, “You aren't exactly the watering-plant type, if you know what I mean. Are they lush and healthy?”
Miffed at Maggie's words, Ted nodded and moved on to what he was saying. Like he was really going to tell her he lived in mortal fear of the plants dying and Maggie somehow finding out. He'd nurtured them daily, sometimes hourly, with plant food, new soil, and spraying the leaves so they'd be shiny and healthy-looking.
“You really should call John now, Annie, and tell him about his promotion. I set everything up for him. All he has to do is turn on the computer, plant his rear end in the chair, and he's good to go.”
BOOK: Blindsided
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