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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Cross Roads
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“You bet. Two rib eyes should do it for him, and a lettuce and green bean salad. He needs his greens.”

Kathryn was rewarded with a booming laugh before she signed off.

“I think we just got an addendum to Plan A, Murph.” The shepherd raised his head, gave a short bark, then went back to his cheese bone.

“Oh, yeah.” Kathryn laughed. Just for fun she blasted her air horn. A couple in a red Toyota waved as she cruised by.

“Nothing like the open road, Murph.”

K
athryn gave the air horn a long blast as she swung into Tom Turtle's Truck Stop, which professed to have the best goulash in the entire country. Someone had crossed out the word
country
on the sign and wrote in the word
world.
She'd eaten the goulash many times, and so had Murphy. It was that good. Too bad she was full from her early dinner with Bear.

The Sisters stepped out of a van parked next to a rig with a Wisconsin license plate. The van said it belonged to someone named Handyman Mike, whose logo was,
IF YOU WANT IT DONE RIGHT, CALL HANDYMAN MIKE
. It wasn't that the Sisters were traveling incognito; they weren't. Charles said it would look better with a labeled truck so no one would give them a second glance. They were, after all, famous or infamous depending on who was doing the talking. He'd gone on to say they were definitely recognizable, even more so in a group.

Truckers, Kathryn said, as a rule, minded their own business, which meant no one in the lot or inside the restaurant would pay attention to them. “I have some news—good news, girls. I personally recommend the goulash if you haven't already eaten. I'll have some coffee with you.”

“Is it better than Charles's goulash?” Myra asked.

Kathryn laughed. “Way better, but don't tell him I said that. Do you have any news? Are we on target? What's the latest? Stay, Murph. Watch the truck,” she called over her shoulder as she walked with the Sisters into Tom Turtle's.

Kathryn beamed with a pleasure that didn't go unnoticed by the others when four truckers eating at the counter welcomed her with open arms, hugs, then peppered her with questions, all of which she expertly dodged. The final parting shot was, “Glad to have you back on the road, Sis. You need us; you know what to do.” Kathryn waved, her eyes damp. Yoko reached up to wipe a lone tear ready to trickle down her cheek.

“They mean it, too,” Kathryn said as she took a seat at a large round table in the corner of the room.

“Of course they do, dear, they're your colleagues,” Myra said, remembering the one road trip she'd taken with Kathryn and the camaraderie she'd personally experienced among her friends.

“Don't even look at the menu, just order the goulash, and they serve fresh homemade bread with the yellowest butter you've ever seen in your life.”

The women gave their orders to a perky, pony-tailed youngster, Tom Turtle's daughter. The moment the girl was out of earshot, Kathryn said, “Talk to me. What's the plan? We have a plan, right? Because I have something to add to the plan. Let's just call it an addendum for now. But later on, if we want to call it Plan B, that's okay, too.”

“Jack and the boys are at the Seashell Motel in Fort Lauderdale. Counting Snowden's men, they number seventeen. Their cover is the bike rally, which starts tomorrow morning at ten. The plan is to go cruising early in the morning and hit the neighborhood where Jellicoe is holed up. You know, just a fun ride, up and down the different streets. We have to synchronize our times because we're coming in by water on the Jet Skis. We hit the beach, so to speak, at precisely 7:00
A.M
. We've been online the whole trip down here, and this rally is big stuff. It's on all the news stations, headlines in all the papers. It's legitimate, so good old Hank won't think too much about a bunch of motorcycles cruising a street that no one but him lives on. At least we hope not,” Nikki said. And, there's a private Jet Ski cove not far from John U. Lloyd Park, where we're going to launch the Jet Skis. I'm sure Jellicoe has scoped it all out on a regular basis. It is just what it seems. He can't control the waterway, so it's fair game. He can't control the county roads in the development where he lives, either, so that's fair game, too.

“And as sure as I am of that, I'm also just as sure that the man has the street booby-trapped. By that, I mean a warning system. The worst-case scenario is he holes up, and we can't get inside to get him. He will then call the police, and we're dead in the water. Charles said they might be able to jam all the frequencies to and from the house, but he wasn't sure. Therefore, we assume it can't be done and work from there,” Nikki said.

“This is where I come in,” Kathryn said quietly. “Lean closer, girls, and tell me what you think of what I'm about to tell you. Now, bear in mind, Charles said Snowden reported in that Hank has fortified 123 Dolphin Drive with steel doors and God knows what else. I'm assuming he thinks no one can gain entry to his fortress. With whatever warning system he has in place, he can have local law enforcement out there in the blink of an eye. Home invasion, that kind of thing. You get hung up in that, and you never see the light of day again.”

“And your point is…?” Isabelle said.

“My friends have offered to help me with no questions asked. The only thing I had to promise was to pay for any damage done to their trucks. I promised,” Kathryn said, looking at Annie for support.

“Whatever it takes, dear.” Kathryn sighed with relief.

“So, what's the plan?” Yoko asked.

“This will have to be your decision. Either I go with you on the Jet Skis, or I drive the truck, the truck that will go right through that steel door of Mr. Jellicoe's. The four rigs behind me will successfully block off the street cutting off any plans he might have for using a vehicle to hoof it somewhere. That leaves the water as his only means of escape. I don't remember who said it, Maggie maybe or Ted, but there's a cigarette boat tied to the dock. Those babies are built for speed, so when you girls pull into the dock, you're going to have to find a way to disable it somehow. Or, how about this—the guys ditch the Harleys and go in the water by Minnow Lane? It's two streets down from Dolphin Drive. Hank can't control that. There are four extra Jet Skis in the rig. I won't be needing mine if I drive the truck. That means five guys can come up behind you girls and guard the waterway and disable the boat. I'm sure one of them knows something about boats.”

“Is this where we get to say, ‘Gotcha, you son of a bitch'?” Annie asked, just as the waitress appeared with steaming bowls of goulash that smelled heavenly. Annie held up her hand, and announced, “We need to vote if Kathryn drives the rig or a Jet Ski?”

All were in favor of Kathryn driving her rig through Hank Jellicoe's front door.

“Yep, ladies, that's the moment,” Kathryn said, holding up her coffee cup for a refill.

“Damn, we're good!” Myra said, surprising everyone with the glee in her tone.

“You girls go ahead and eat while I text the boys and Maggie. Guess I better bring Charles up to date, too,” Kathryn said.

Forty minutes later, the waitress cleared the table and offered red velvet cake for dessert, which they all declined.

“I don't think I'll ever be able to eat Charles's goulash again without thinking about this place,” Myra said happily. “Whoever changed the sign out front was right on the money.” The girls all agreed.

“Now what?” Alexis asked.

“Now we head down to Fort Lauderdale and John U. Lloyd Park to meet up with the guys. We are free until the early hours of tomorrow morning. I have to unload these Jet Skis and their trailers. I sure can't do it alone, so we need the guys for that. Charles said he used every sort of pressure he could exert to get us rooms at the Whale Harbor Inn, which is less than a mile from the launching site. He said, and I don't know how he knows this, but he said there are biker parties, tail-gate parties, everywhere. This bike rally is really a big thing. They hope to raise a million dollars. Did you know most of the entries in the rally are doctors, nurses, lawyers, and dentists? Anyone can enter, but they are the majority, and if you can believe this, for the weekend, the state of Florida is turning over the two-fifty toll on Alligator Alley to the JDF.

“Here's something else I didn't know. They're having a rally on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, one on the strip in Vegas that you sponsored, Annie, and didn't even know about. Your buddy Fish okayed it back in March. They're having them all over the country, with the ultimate goal of raising a total of ten million dollars. There's even talk about doing another rally in the spring for Breast Cancer Awareness. I plan to ride in that one,” Kathryn said.

The others agreed that they, too, would ride with Kathryn in the spring if they weren't in jail.

“Don't even go there, girls,” Annie said, her eyes sparking dangerously. “We
will
ride in that rally.”

Out in the parking lot, the girls said good-bye—Kathryn to head to the warehouse where she was to pick up the Jet Skis, the girls to John U. Lloyd State Park.

An hour later the girls had registered at the Whale Harbor Inn, where no one paid the least bit of attention to them. Satisfied that they were as anonymous as they were going to get, the group headed poolside, ordered fruity drinks, and started to text. Myra and Annie glared at one another. “Too bad we don't have anyone to text,” Annie grumbled. “I suppose I could text Fish, but I've never done that before, and he might get suspicious.”

“I would
call
Charles, but I'm sure he's busy,” Myra said.

“Myra, you do realize, don't you, that we would not be here if all this wasn't about to go down? Ironic, isn't it? Seeing that article in the paper, getting to the farm and your agreeing to take part in the rally with me. We might have been bored if we were just participants. You know what they say, everything happens for a reason. Listen, I could call Fish and blast him for something. You know, ask him where he is, that kind of thing. No, better to leave sleeping dogs lie,” Annie said, deciding against her own suggestion.

Myra agreed. “The only thing that is bothering me…well, actually several things are bothering me. One, Charles probably can't jam the airwaves or whatever so Hank gets a chance to call the police, and one getaway boat. I'm not boo-hooing, Annie, but I think I'd like to know more about the safeguards he has in place. You know Murphy's Law, what can go wrong, will go wrong.”

“What bothers me, Myra, is we don't know why we're doing this. I mean why…oh, hell, you know what I mean,” Annie fretted.

Myra played with her pearls. “Well, I'm sure once we're inside, we'll manage to get the details out of him. Do you think he's going to put up much of a fight?”

“Oh, yeah,” Annie drawled. “So will Fish and Stu Franklin. Three baddies is how we have to look at it.”

“You're dealing with this very well, Annie. I hope you feel the same way when Fish is no longer on your radar screen.”

Annie started to laugh. “There are more fish in the stream, Myra, no pun intended.” Myra burst out laughing. “That whole relationship thing…that didn't work for me. I totally understand Kathryn's refusing to get married to Bert even though she says she loves him. Alan was her one true love, her true soul mate. That's how I feel about my husband. That doesn't mean you can't love someone else, or care about him a great deal. You can. For me it would be betrayal, disloyal to marry again. I didn't make a promise because I didn't have time. Kathryn made a promise to her husband and, to her credit, she's honoring her promise. I applaud the dear girl for that. That's something you would do, Myra.”

Myra thought about it for a moment, then said, “Yes, Annie, that is something I would do. I think that would be classified as old-school or something like that. I applaud you, too, Annie. I love that you have honor, and yet you're a free spirit. I know that some days you hurt inside so badly with the memories, but you never let it get you down. I wish I was more like you.”

“Oh, Myra, no, you don't. I don't ever want you to change. If you ever lost those damn pearls, I'd cry a river for you.”

The girls turned around when Annie and Myra went into peals of laughter.”

“They're up to something,” Nikki whispered to Yoko.

“I know. Isn't it great? Our little team would be nothing without those two. Oh, Nikki, this is what I missed so much. All of you are the family I never had. As much as I love Harry, he can't be all of you.”

Nikki squeezed Yoko's hand. “I know—boy, do I know.”

It was eleven o'clock when Kathryn appeared. She looked tired but exhilarated. “Jet Skis are docked. My truckers are parked a mile down the road. I hitched a ride here. The Whale Harbor Inn does not allow eighteen-wheelers in their parking lot. You'll have to drop me off in the morning. I'm going to hit the sack. When's our wake-up call?”

“Five o'clock,” Alexis said. “I'm with you. One more of these silly umbrella drinks, and I'm going to fall over. Just for the record, I checked the wet suits—all our gear is set to go, so all we have to do is roll out of bed and hit the road. I sure hope we have good weather.”

Myra yawned. “Weren't you paying attention when the weather came on, dear?” She pointed to a wide-screen TV perched over the tiki bar. “Typical August weather, sweltering hot, high humidity, and eighty-degree waters. I think we're good to go.”

“Then let's all say good night. It's automatic checkout, so we don't have to worry about that,” Nikki said, stifling a yawn. “I just checked with Jack, and they're turning in, too. He said two of Snowden's men did a walk through the neighborhood with a stray dog they found. And yes, they're keeping the dog. He said there are lights on in the house, and it's buttoned up tight.

“Sweet dreams, everyone.”

Annie and Myra continued to sit by the pool. There were no other guests to be seen, and the tiki bar had just lowered its shutters and called it a night.

“I'm not the least bit sleepy, Myra. I hate hotel rooms. I think I'll sit out here for a while, but if you want to go to bed, don't worry about me.”

“I'm not tired, either. I'll keep you company. We can talk.”

BOOK: Cross Roads
8.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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