Payback (11 page)

Like old buddies, they clapped each other on the back before they bellied up to the mahogany bar for their Buds and waited for a table to clear in the back of the bar. While they waited they dissected every female within eye range, a temporary distraction to pass the time. When a table cleared they beelined to it and yelled their order to a cute waitress who grinned at them. Her skimpy shorts, long legs and tight spandex top did not go unnoticed.

Jack blurted out his story as he played with the long-neck in his hands. When he finally wound down he said, “I need you to tell me if I’m nuts or if I’ve got something going on here.”

Mark removed his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose and then settled the wire rims more firmly before he spoke. “Man, you got something going on here. You took a fucking month off just to work on this! What if you can’t nail it by the end of the month?”

Jack eyed the pudgy man sitting across from him. His dark brown eyes behind his wire rimmed glasses were starting to steam up with his excitement. It looked to Jack like Mark was losing his hair, too. Better not to mention something so personal. Damn, it had been a while since they’d seen each other. “I don’t know, Mark. I just know I gotta do it. What’s your spin on this?”

“Off the top of my head, and it’s a wild guess on my part, I think you’re looking at a bunch of female vigilantes. What’s with that Charles character?”

Jack shrugged.

“Maybe he’s the brains of the outfit. Excuse me but I think you’re giving Nikki too much credit here and, besides, you want it to be her so you can get even with her. How’m I doing so far?”

“To what end? Who? What? Where?”

“How the hell do I know? You just told me the damn story. The only player I know is Nikki. Maybe that Llewellyn babe was their first shot. Hey, it worked, smart ass. She’s gone and it was on your watch. Maybe they’re gearing up for something else. The only thing of interest going on in this town right now is Senator Webster being picked to be Crawford’s running mate. Both parties are sniping at each other. Nothing new there. No big time stuff out of the ordinary is going on at the Bureau. The world is a crazy place these days, Jack.”

Their double burgers and sides of fries arrived along with two more long-necks. The friends wolfed down the burgers and ordered seconds. While they waited, Jack said, “What would you do if you were me?”

“Go home and get under the covers and don’t come out till the end of the month. How the hell should I know what you should do? You’re not going to leave it alone, are you?”

Jack shook his head.

“That’s what I thought.” Mark sighed. “OK, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re pretty much a nine-to-five guy. Help me out at night. See what you can come up with on Charles Martin and Senator Webster. In the morning I’ll drop off the files I’ve accumulated unless you want to go home with me and get them tonight. By the way, how’s your love life?”

“In the dumps like yours. Don’t go there, Jack. You’re gonna owe me for this.”

“Yeah, I know. Good burgers, eh?” Jack said, chomping down on his.

Between mouthfuls of food, Mark asked, “Just how rich is Myra Rutledge?”

“Fortune 500 company. Did I say she’s personal friends of the governor? She called him last night to get me off the property. Don’t you think that’s a stretch?”

Mark belched, then apologized. “Depends on what she’s involved in and what she’s trying to hide. Everyone needs a big gun to call on when their ass is about to be nailed to the wall. It doesn’t get any better than being on a first name basis with the governor of this fine state.”

Jack leaned back in his chair. “You’re my big gun, Mark.”

“God help us both, Jack, if I’m the best you can do.”

“Are you ready, girls?” Myra all but squealed, her face alight with excitement.

“We’re ready, we’re ready. Show us! Myra, stop torturing us,” Isabelle shouted to be heard over the din of the others.

“All right, all right! Our outfits arrived just minutes ago. I couldn’t wait to show them to you and Charles is slightly miffed that I pulled you all out of the command center. Fashions first! Who wants to go first?”

“Me! Please let it be me,” Yoko said.

Myra smiled as she rummaged among the tissue paper in the huge white box that had arrived by courier. She withdrew an electric blue gown with a stand up collar and a generous slit that was thigh high. The gown was so severe it shrieked dollar signs. Yoko rolled her eyes in ecstasy. “I’ve never had anything so grand. Thank you, Myra.”

“Kiddo, you are going to look like the empress of China. Was she beautiful?”

Yoko giggled. “No, but that is all right. I will accept the compliment.”

Myra rummaged again among the tissue paper. “This is for you, Julia,” she said, handing over a slim, gold leaf dress with a high neck and long sleeves.

“Oh, this is too gorgeous for words,” Julia said. “I love the way the dress flares at the ankle. Matching shoes. I hope I don’t have to do much walking.”

“Not to worry, dear. We’ll take your rubber soled shoes in the limousine when we have to…ah…burn rubber.” She held out a scarlet dress to Kathryn who blinked.

“I’m going to feel naked, Myra. I never wore a strapless gown in my life. Are you sure it will stay up?”

Alexis giggled. “I’ll make sure it stays up. It’s gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.”

Nikki’s gown was black shot through with silver threads. Isabelle ooohed and aaahed over her white crepe gown with spaghetti straps and a flare at the knees. Alexis reached for her gown that was the color of sienna. It too was strapless.

“Show us yours, Myra. What color did you choose?” the women asked all at the same time.

“I chose dusty rose and my gown has a hip length sheer coat. Silver shoes and bag. I’m so glad you all like your dresses. It was so hard to choose.”

“Who is the designer?” Kathryn asked, peering at the label.

“No one famous. Yet. I expect she will be after Saturday night, though. Be sure to tell the press your outfits were designed by Callie. That’s the name she goes by. Her real name is Calista Cole. She’s a client of Nikki’s. I think we should be getting back to Charles. We certainly don’t want him upset today of all days.”

“No, we certainly don’t want to do that because then he’ll serve us wieners for dinner. I hate wieners. Isn’t today the day…?”

“The day Charles drops the first bombshell to the tabloids on Mitch. Yep,” Julia said happily as she led the way down the steps and across the hall to the living room where Myra opened the secret door to what she called Charles’s Lair.

The women filed into the war room and took their seats. Their thoughts, however, were back in Myra’s bedroom with the Callie fashions they would all be wearing in a little over thirty-six hours. They came back to reality when Charles homed in on Julia. He didn’t say anything but waited for her to speak, his eyes full of questions.

“I haven’t actually spoken to Mitch, Charles. He’s called numerous times and left messages. The last message he left said he is the definite choice although he and the governor are the only ones who know that. The official announcement and his acceptance will be made on Saturday evening. They always pretend no one knows but everyone inside the Beltway knows before it even happens. Some of his messages weren’t too nice but then Mitch isn’t very nice these days. I did leave one message saying I would be home this evening. I really don’t want to go until tomorrow. The less time I have to spend with him, the better.”

“Tomorrow will be fine, Julia. I don’t want you to put any undue stress on yourself. Our first little tidbit will hit the airwaves around noon today. I already sent an anonymous E-mail to one of the tabloids. It goes without saying that the senator will be unavailable for comment. He’ll call the charge scurrilous and say it was put out by the other side. A dirty tricks campaign. By next week it will be a free-for-all. Now, have you all come up with a plan of action?”

“We have, Charles, but we need to know the location before we can put it into play.”

Charles pressed a button on his remote. A blueprint sprang into view. Charles clicked the remote again to enlarge the print on the screen. “This is the floor plan of the Monarch house in Manassas. I considered several choices but in the end this one won out. Because, just in case anyone sees the truck or the limo entering the estate, it will be OK. Everyone got invited back to the Monarch home for drinks after the party. There’s nothing unusual about that at all.

“I’ve taken the liberty of arranging vacations for the help. All six of them, a housekeeper, cook, chauffeur, gardener and two maids will board Myra’s Gulfstream for a fully paid three week vacation in the Caribbean. The Monarchs have always been more than generous with their servants so this will not raise any eyebrows. They will board the plane right after the Monarchs leave for the party, having been told by the new chauffeur that their employers are going to Europe for a month.

“I’ve engaged the services of several operatives whom I trust implicitly. They will open the house, clear the alarm system, deactivate the security gates outside and then put us in a lock-down mode until our mission is completed. Are there any questions?”

There was only one question, posed by Yoko. “What about Jack Emery?”

Nikki was about to reassure her when Charles quietly responded to the question. “ADA Emery has taken a thirty day leave of absence. He is under surveillance and will remain under surveillance for the next thirty days. If he goes anywhere near any of you, we’ll know in an instant and in that instant we will be forced to make a decision. Do you all understand what I just said?”

Nikki looked everywhere but at Charles.

“Would you care to divulge your plans for the senator and the Monarchs?” Charles asked as though he was inquiring about the weather.

“Actually, Charles, we’re winging this one. We want you and Myra to come back here after the party. That means you’ll have to engage two limousines for Saturday night. I’ll dismiss the driver who takes Mitch and myself by saying we’re going with friends for drinks. No details.”

“That’s not a problem. You’ll all have your secure cell phones and we will be available should you need us.”

“Charles, would you mind bringing up that blueprint again and printing it out for us. There’s a home theater in the house, isn’t there?”

“Complete with popcorn machine. And a bowling alley and an indoor pool.”

“What about computer equipment?” Nikki asked.

“They have it all, Nikki.”

“A safe?” Alexis queried.

Charles smiled. “Several, as a matter of fact. One vault. I marked them with big red Xs on the original copy. If your next question is where do they keep their business records, the answer is in the floor safe in the laundry room. The Monarchs cart those records with them everywhere they go.”

The women eyed Charles with baffled expressions.

“How do you know this?” Yoko squeaked.

Charles smiled. “Let’s just say I know, and leave it at that.”

“Which safe holds their personal bank records? I’m assuming you know that, too, right?” Isabelle asked.

Charles chuckled. “Of course I know the answer. The box spring in the guest bedroom on the second floor, the second room going down the hall, has been hollowed out in the center. The records are right there just waiting for you. The Monarchs seldom have guests while they’re in Manassas so the maids aren’t overly zealous in their cleaning duties.”

Kathryn’s eyes widened in awe. “And you know this…how? Never mind. I’m sorry I asked.”

Charles smiled. He loved it when he could surprise the sisters. He reached across to the printer for the copies of the Monarchs’ floor plans and passed them around the table. He was back at his computer station in a second. He turned the volume up on one of the television monitors.

The women looked upward and gasped.

“Can this be true?” someone named Jared on the FOX network asked a visiting guest.

The guest, a retired something-or-other, the way most of FOX’s guests were, grimaced as he shrugged his shoulders. “I think this is Washington political spin. If you’re asking me if Senator Webster is a philanderer, my answer is I have no way of knowing. You could ask him for a comment.”

Charles risked a glance at Julia who was biting down on her lower lip, her hands clenched into fists on the table.

“The senator hasn’t been available for comment. His aide said it was hogwash and just spin because his boss is on the short list.”

A second retired something-or-other spoke up. “Where there’s smoke there’s fire. I would be interested in the women’s comments. I understand one name is already public and up on Matt Drudge’s Web site. Hey, we’re talking about the veep nomination. The ghouls are out there. Both sides do the same thing. They have specialists who dig up dirt; we all know that.”

Jared looked from one to the other of his retired guests. “What do you think something like this will do to his nomination?”

The first retiree spoke up, “Depends whether Webster comes out and makes a comment. It’s usually best to be front and center and bite the bullet. If he waffles and the press comes up with proof, he’s dead in the water.”

The second retiree smirked. “All the senator needs to do is admit to a little dalliance, with his wife on his arm saying she knew and forgave him a long time ago.”

Jared looked into the camera and said, “Thank you, gentlemen, I’m sorry to cut you short but we’re heading into a hard break.”

Charles turned down the volume on the television. “Any comments?”

Julia looked sick at what she’d just seen. “Mitch won’t make a comment. He’s too arrogant. He’ll call it bullshit smut being dug up by the other side to embarrass him. Or, he might accuse me of leaking it all for my own personal reasons. One thing I know for certain, he will be absolutely livid. Ah, my phone is vibrating.” Julia reached to her belt where her cell phone was clipped. “Yes, it’s Mitchell. Obviously, I am not going to answer the phone.”

“Having said that, I suggest we get down to work, girls,” Alexis said. “Charles, are we going to the party under our own names or are we using aliases? Do we have invitations? Do we need to alter our appearance?”