Take Down (The Men of the Sisterhood) (7 page)

It was a tense ride to the home of Martha Gellis. While Jack and Maggie marveled at Dennis’s expert driving on the slippery road, they also knew he was at the mercy of other drivers, who weren’t as cautious as he was. And then there was Mother Nature, who didn’t seem to care who was driving what kind of vehicle. The wind whistled sharply, sending the swirling snowflakes into a sideways avalanche. The windshield wipers fought valiantly, but it was a losing battle, so all Dennis could do was keep his eyes on the tiny pinpoints of red taillights in front of him and hope that the driver knew where he was going.

“You’re doing good, kid, just take it easy. Take deep breaths. This truck is like a tank. We’re good here, so don’t panic. According to this blabbering GPS, we’re only a mile from our destination.”

Dennis clenched his jaw so tight he thought it would crack. Somehow, he managed to get the words through his clenched teeth. “Okay, Jack.”

“Maggie, what are the others saying?”

“Abner said they are two miles out. Their ETA at Otto’s home, he’s thinking, is about another hour. Very slow going, and Harry is like a wet cat on a hot griddle, according to him. But he did say he’s a good driver.

“Espinosa said they are a half mile from Philip’s home. He said it’s snowing heavily, but they managed to get a few cars behind a snowplow and are holding steady. That’s the good news. The bad news is, I don’t know if we’re going to be able to make it out to Pinewood after our snatch and grab. We might need an alternate location to . . . um . . . do our thing. And here is more bad news, in case anyone is interested. Snowden is not responding to my texts.”

Jack pondered all of this as his cell phone continued to vibrate in his pocket. All he could think about was Nikki calling around to hospitals and the police, not that the police would care about his disappearance with the storm going on. Crap! He shifted his thoughts to what Maggie was saying. An alternative. Where? His mind raced. The only place he could think of was Maggie’s Georgetown house, which was two doors away from his own. Crap again! The constant vibration of the phone in his pocket was making his thigh numb. Such a problem.

The robotic voice on the GPS continued to give directions.

“Her name is Gisella,” Dennis said.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“The voice on the GPS. I wouldn’t buy the car until they told me. They thought I was nuts. Hey, if someone is going to talk to me constantly, I want to know who it is. It’s a personal thing. You know what else, those voices get paid big bucks to do that. You have a problem with that, Jack?” he demanded. His voice stopped just short of being shrill, indicating he was stressed to the max.

“Not one little bit, kid. Gisella it is. She’s talking again; listen.”

“Turn right one hundred feet ahead,” Gisella instructed.

Jack lowered the window and was rewarded by a gust of stinging snow to his cheeks. “I think I can see a green sign; slow down, Dennis.”

“I’m crawling, Jack. If I go any slower, I’ll be at a full stop.”

“I see it! I see it! Quick, make a right. Easy now; can you see, Dennis?”

“A little.”

Gisella spoke again. “You are a quarter of a mile from your destination. Stay on this road; make no turns.” And then, finally, they could see houses and pinpoints of yellow light. There were lampposts and Christmas lights twinkling in the swirling snow. Gisella spoke again. “You have now successfully arrived at your destination. Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of helping you.”

Dennis slumped against the steering wheel. All he wanted to do was get a cup of hot cocoa and go to sleep, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. “You’re driving on the way back, Jack.”

The trio climbed out of the Humvee and didn’t bother to lock it. Up ahead, they could see a structure that looked just like every other house on the cul-de-sac. There was a light over the door that displayed a Christmas wreath bare of any ornaments other than a red bow that looked to be soaking wet. On close inspection, the wreath turned out to be artificial.

Shivering and stomping their feet, Maggie and Dennis huddled close together as Jack gave the door knocker a resounding thump. They waited, hardly daring to breathe, for someone to open the door. When it opened, they saw a plump, pink-cheeked woman wearing granny glasses wrapped in a bright red bathrobe. She immediately became aggressive, demanding to know who they were and why they were knocking on her door in the middle of a storm. “If you’re stuck, call AAA,” she snapped.

“FBI, Mrs. Gellis,” Jack snapped in return. “Stand aside so we can enter the premises. We have a warrant. I am Special Agent Anthony Lupine, the man to my right is Special Agent Donald Ryder, and the lady is Special Agent Lucinda Collins.” When the woman refused to move, Jack repeated, “I said, step aside, ma’am.” She finally backed up a step as she clutched the cherry-colored robe around her throat.

“FBI? What do you want with me? I didn’t do anything. If you want to question me about my neighbors, I have nothing to say. I barely know them other than to wave when I see them. What do you want?”

“We want you to get dressed and come with us. Special Agent Collins will accompany you, but first we want you to turn over your cell phone to us. Is there anyone else in the house?”

“My husband is somewhere. Probably in the basement, working on one of his stupid birdhouses. Why? Did he do something?”

“We ask the questions, you answer them. Do you understand that?”

“No, I don’t understand that. You invade my home, so I have the right to ask why.”

“Right now you have no rights,” Jack said. Already he didn’t like this woman and knew he would never grow to like her. He jerked his head at Maggie, who took the woman’s arm and led her across the room.

“Special Agent Ryder, check the basement. You know what to do.”

The plump woman jerked free of Maggie’s grasp and spun around. “I
said
I want to know why you’re here. I refuse to be violated. Do you hear me, I
refuse.
”

Jack sighed. He waved the warrant in one hand and the small checkbook he’d taken from her office. Martha Gellis turned pale. “That’s . . . that’s the company checkbook! Where did you get that?”

Jack waved the warrant again. His eyebrows shot upward, daring her to ask another question. She was too furious to more than sputter. Maggie moved her jacket to the side to let her see the gun in her shoulder holster. Of course, Mrs. Gellis did not know it wasn’t loaded. Maggie motioned the nasty woman forward.

Jack meandered through the house as he waited for Maggie and Dennis to return. It looked to him just like any other house. The Christmas tree was nothing special; artificial, with ornaments that could be bought in any department store. There were no pictures of family members to be seen, but there were wall-to-wall bookshelves in almost every room. Every shelf was filled with romance novels. He thought he could smell fish. Maybe they’d had fish for dinner.

Dennis was the first to find him in the kitchen. He held Mr. Gellis’s phone in his hand.“I explained the situation to Mr. Gellis. His comment to me was, ‘What took you people so long?’ He does not care, I repeat, he does not care that we are ‘taking’ his wife, as he put it, ‘into custody.’ He also said we did not need to worry about his calling anyone because he doesn’t care and would be happy to see his brothers-in-law sent ‘up the river’ for the rest of their lives. Those were his exact words: ‘up the river.’

“He makes really nice birdhouses and wanted to give me one. I said that would constitute a bribe, and he laughed. He sells them on the Internet.”

Maggie appeared out of nowhere. “We’re ready, Agent Lupine.”

“Did you tell my husband you were arresting me?” Martha Gellis asked.

“I did. He said he didn’t care. Your husband makes very nice birdhouses.”

Martha had to be prodded toward the front door. “Where are you taking me? To FBI Headquarters? I know some powerful people. I want you to know that. When my brother Otto finds out you arrested me, heads will roll, I can tell you that.”

“Your brother Otto is at this moment in the same position you are, Mrs. Gellis, as is your brother Philip. Those powerful people you mentioned will not be able to help you,” Jack said. He crossed his fingers the way he had when he was a child and had hoped that he was telling the truth, at least for the moment.

They were back on the road, with Gisella leading them to the address Dennis, who was riding shotgun, had entered: Maggie’s house. With the aid of a small light under the dashboard, Dennis sent out text after text. He whooped in delight when he saw that Avery Snowden finally responded. He typed at the speed of light, explaining, then asking questions. The time was coming up on six-thirty.

“Everyone is on the road back. Little to no resistance, except Otto tried to go for the gun in his study. How stupid is that? Going up against the FBI like that.”

“My brother is not stupid,” Martha Gellis shrilled from the backseat.

“Yeah, he is. Otherwise, why would you be sitting here right now, Mrs. CFO, and why would your brother, Mr. CEO, be in the same position you’re in?” Dennis shot back.

Martha Gellis clamped her lips shut as she tried in vain to peer out the window at the snow-filled night. A feeling of panic was engulfing her. She wanted to lash out, to kick and scream, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She didn’t know what, if anything, she could do. What she felt in her bones was that her life was never going to be the same again. She wanted to cry. She tried then to remember the last time a tear had escaped her eye and couldn’t come up with a time, date, or place. Maybe she was one of those people who didn’t have tear ducts. Finally, she blurted out, “You’re kidnapping me. I don’t care if you are the FBI or not, you cannot go around kidnapping innocent people.”

“You aren’t innocent,” Dennis said, loud enough to be heard in the backseat as he continued to text furiously.

“We’re making better time; the plows are out. They’ve sanded the road since we came through. What’s our ETA?” Jack asked.

“Gisella says it’s ninety minutes to the address I punched in. Give or take thirty, and everyone should be arriving on schedule.”

“Good to know. Snowden?”

“In place. Just waiting for our call.”

The more or less ninety minutes turned into an hour and fifty minutes before Jack parked Dennis’s Humvee in front of Maggie Spritzer’s house in Georgetown. He hopped out and struggled to see through the snow if Harry or Ted had arrived. As far as he could tell, there was no sign of Avery Snowden, but then again, he had no idea what kind of getaway vehicle he would be driving this time.

He turned to Dennis and said, “Listen, kid, they might tow this set of wheels. As you can see, there’s no parking. You okay with them towing the Humvee?”

“Yeah. I can get it out of the impound lot. Let’s just do what we have to do and get inside to wait for the others.”

Maggie already had the door open and was yanking Martha Gellis by the arm. To Maggie’s displeasure, the woman was resisting. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, ma’am,” she said, going for her unloaded gun. Gellis moved.

It took a good seven minutes to plow through the snow and up the snow-covered steps to the front door, where Maggie had to fumble in the dark for the key to open the door. Then there was a wild scramble for all four of them to get inside. Jack was the last as he turned his head to see if there were any lights on in his house, two doors away. He winced at the amount of light spilling out into the snowy night. Nik must have turned on every light in the house. It was all Jack could do not to run through the snow to the house. He gritted his teeth and followed Dennis into Maggie’s foyer.

Safe.

Hero, Maggie’s new roommate, launched himself at her. At first, he was spitting and snarling, but the moment Maggie whispered to him, he calmed down and started to purr so loud, Jack started laughing.

“My God, a cat! I’m allergic to cats,” Martha Gellis exploded.

“Tell that to someone who cares. Move your ass, Mrs. Gellis, and don’t open that mouth of yours again or I’ll shove a wad of cat fur between your molars,” Maggie threatened as she tried to struggle out of her coat and still hold Hero, who was purring even louder.

Jack turned up the heat and immediately went into the kitchen to make some coffee, while Dennis raced to the family room, where he built a roaring fire. Jack wondered if he would ever feel warm again.

Forty minutes later, the front door of Maggie’s house opened and a black streak raced through the rooms to slam up against Jack, who was leaning against the kitchen counter. “You missed me that much, huh?” Jack said, tussling with the big dog, then dropping to the floor to roll around, to Cyrus’s delight. Hero took all this in before he leaped out of Maggie’s arms and joined the fun. Cyrus eyed the intruder, growled, then barked. Hero hissed and snarled, then leaped back into Maggie’s arms.

“Oh my God! A dog. I’m allergic to dogs,” Gellis exploded.

“I thought you said you were allergic to cats,” Maggie barked. “Make up your damn mind.”

“I’m allergic to all animals that have fur or hair.”

“Oh. Well, we don’t care. Do we, guys?” Maggie said as she looked up at Ted and winked.

Espinosa shoved Philip Andover into the kitchen and told him to sit. He sat. He looked, Jack thought, like a college professor. Right behind Espinosa were Harry and Abner, dragging Otto Andover, who was doing his best to hang back.

Jack laughed out loud when he heard Harry say, “I’ve had enough of your crap.” He gave the resisting Otto a chop to the neck, then moved, so Otto could drop to the floor. Abner stepped over him. “The guy has been a pain in my ass since we picked him up. Boil some water; I need a cup of tea.”

Jack hustled to fill Maggie’s teakettle and set it on the gas burner. “How’d it all go, Harry?”

“Just like you’d expect. He protested. I clipped him a couple of times, and he tried to take me on. Such a silly man. He’s here, so can we move things along? I want to get home to my family.” He moved closer to Jack so the others couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“Is Otto afraid of you, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his face. “If he was or is, it was hard to tell. The guy is real mouthy, though. He made all kinds of threats. I had to threaten to pull his tongue out through his nose to get him to turn over his checkbook. Abner has his desk computer, his laptop, and every other device we found. The wife was watching some rerun on TV and didn’t ask any questions, even when we told her we were taking Otto with us. All she said was, ‘Good-bye, dear.’ For some reason, I don’t think they have a happy marriage. Now, will she call anyone tomorrow morning when he doesn’t show up? That’s anyone’s guess. My guess would be no.”

Ted bent down and grabbed Otto by the collar of his jacket and propped him up against the pantry door. “I think you need to wake him up, Harry, so we can get this show on the road.”

Harry laughed, the evil laugh that made everyone in the room look somewhere else. “I think you’re right, Ted.” He bent over and, using his index finger and thumb, opened Otto’s eyes. He leaned closer, but no one could see what he was doing. Within a second, Otto was blustering and spewing hateful words. Harry wagged a finger warningly, then put it against his lips to indicate he wanted total silence. Otto stopped in midsentence and leaned back against the pantry door.

Jack took the floor. He held up both his hands for silence just as his cell vibrated in his pocket. He did his best to ignore it and concentrate on what had to be done. “Is his head clear, Harry? Is he going to understand what I’m saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry drawled.

“All right then, people. Here’s the deal: We want your money. Not just a little bit but
all
of it. When you give it to us, we’re going to give it away.”

Martha reared up and almost fell out of her chair. “You aren’t FBI agents at all. You really did kidnap us! Otto, Philip, do something, for God’s sake.”

“What was your first clue?” Maggie asked curiously.

Before Martha could respond, her brother Otto warned his sister to shut up and told her that she always talked too much. Philip remained quiet. Otto’s eyes were narrowed to mere slits in his face as he watched and listened.

“I have some papers here I want you all to sign. You will be agreeing to the terms of the Quinn class-action suit. You will sign a letter that we’ve prepared, then you will sign a check from this nifty little flowered checkbook of Martha’s. Then you will graciously allow us to strip all your monies from all of your accounts. When you do that, you will all leave for . . . a vacation. How does that sound? You may speak now.”

“I will never sign off on that class-action suit,” Otto said coldly.

“Yes, you will, Mr. Andover. The question is, how quickly you will do it. Torture is a terrible thing. I’m thinking your threshold for pain is very low given the privileged life you’ve led,” Jack said.

“I told you to settle the minute that firm filed the papers. I warned you, Otto, that it would turn into a nightmare, and I was absolutely right. Martha agreed with me, but oh, no, you said nothing would come of it. Well, look where we are right now. Furthermore, you arrogant ass, those families deserve the money. I have not had a good night’s sleep since those papers were filed. And the reason for that is because I have a conscience, even if you don’t. I’m not sure about Martha anymore,” Philip said in an even, unemotional voice.

“We did pay some of those people. Then they got greedy, knowing the company has deep pockets. They wanted more and still more; then they brought more people into it. It was never-ending. We would have gone down the drain,” Martha blubbered.

“What part of
their children died
don’t you get? They deserve to own your company for that faulty drug,” Jack said. “It’s off the market now, thanks to those people. And we will not allow you to go with that new arthritis miracle that you’re about to unveil after the New Year. We are going to cause such an uproar over that, you might as well forget you ever developed and patented that drug.”

“You can torture me all you want, but I am not signing anything,” Otto said.

“Wanna bet?” Maggie said as she moved closer to where Otto was still lounging against the pantry door. She kicked him in the groin just to have something to do. She really wanted a hot shower and to slide beneath the special sheets that
slithered
against her body, and this ass was preventing that from happening. She gave him another kick for good measure. He howled in pain.

Jack looked over at Martha. “Are you ready to sign? These papers require three signatures.”

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Martha tried to push herself as deep into the kitchen chair as she could. “I can’t unless Otto tells me to sign. That’s the rule at the company.”

“Bullshit!” Philip bellowed. “Give it to me. I’ll sign it. Then maybe I’ll be able to sleep again.” Before anyone knew what was happening, Philip Andover wrote his name in legible script. He then dated it, with the time. He walked back over to the chair he’d been sitting on, sat down, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.

One down and two to go.

“Will you shut up, Martha? You’re giving me a headache. You always were a whiny little brat,” Otto said tersely.

Ah, the weak link
, Jack thought. He looked over at Maggie, turning control over to her. She almost laughed out loud. These boys were such
wusses.
She walked over to Martha Gellis and bent down. “If you don’t sign these papers, you will not like the outcome. I’ll ask just once. Will you sign them?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Martha shook her head, her eyes on her brother.

“Okay. I was nice, wasn’t I, guys?” The guys all nodded. “Wait right here; I’ll be right back.” Jack felt his insides start to shake. Maggie could be . . . he gave up when he couldn’t come up with just the right word. He risked a glance at Harry, who just looked dreamy, like he’d transported himself someplace far away. Harry could do that, then come back to the moment refreshed. Dennis looked like he was about to explode, while Ted and Espinosa whispered to each other as though they knew what Maggie’s next move was going to be. Abner played with his laptop, his eyes full of dollar signs. Abner loved giving away other people’s money. Loved it, loved it, loved it!

Upstairs in her bedroom, Maggie looked longingly at her king-size bed. She walked over to it, turned on the bed warmer, then headed for the bathroom and the tools she would need to convince Martha Andover to sign the class-action papers.

Downstairs, she held up what looked like two large curling irons. She plugged both into the wall socket over the kitchen counter. “Mrs. Gellis, this curling iron is a new prototype that my hairdresser gave me to try out. This one that’s all crazy curly will give pretty much permanent curls like those you see in my hair. They’re called corkscrew curls. This second curling iron will remove the curls. I just love them. The longer you leave them on, the more lasting the curls. The only drawback is, they get so hot you have to be careful not to get burned. It takes a lot of expertise to master the use of them. It took me weeks.”

All eyes were on Martha Gellis, whose eyes were on Maggie, her mouth hanging open.

“I told you I wasn’t going to ask you again. So here is what I’m going to do: First, I’m going to curl your ears, then I’m going to curl your lips. Close your eyes and envision the outcome. Aside from the blisters, of course. Are you getting a visual here, Mrs. Gellis?”

Ted and Espinosa moved closer to the chair. At a nod from Maggie, they both reached out and pinned Martha to the chair.

“Silly me. I forgot the most important part. After I finish up with your lips, I’m going to shove the curly one right up your tight ass. Visualize
that
!”

“Do. Not. Sign. That. Document. Martha!” Otto bellowed. Martha slumped in her chair.

Quicker than lightning, Maggie whirled and clamped the curling iron onto one of Otto’s ears. The smell of burned flesh invaded the room. It took Harry, Jack, and Dennis, using all their strength, to hold Otto down. Martha fell off the chair. Cyrus growled, and Hero hissed at these goings-on. Philip Andover cracked one eye, smiled, and went right back to resting.

Espinosa gathered his wits about him. It always amazed him at how bloodthirsty women could be. His own mother was a gentle soul, as were his sisters. He had to admit, though, he got a thrill out of it. He filled a cup with cold water from the sink and dumped it on Martha Gellis’s face. She sputtered and cursed. Cyrus licked at the water. Espinosa lifted her up and put her back on the chair. “This might be a good time to sign your name to those papers,” he whispered in her ear.

Martha Gellis made a decision at that precise moment. She’d never been a pretty woman, and she knew it. Curled-up lips and crinkly ears were not something she wanted the world to see. She thought about her ass for a split second, then blinked. She wrote her name as clearly as she could with her shaking hands.

Two down and one to go.

“Oooh. I bet that hurts,” Dennis said as he peered at Otto’s blood-red ear, which had already blistered.

“Strip him down, boys,” Maggie said.

Philip stirred himself long enough to clap his hands. “Finally, we all get to see you screwed up the ass the way you’ve screwed people your whole life. I applaud you people, whoever the hell you are. Bravo!” He clapped his hands again before he closed his eyes and went back to being half-asleep.

Otto Andover’s naked body was not a pleasing sight. He was no Adonis. Nor was he even close to Hulk Hogan. He was fish-belly white, flabby, hairy Otto Andover. Maggie grimaced at the sight. “Before you bend him over, how about I give his dick a quick twist with the curly iron? I’m thinking we should vote here. I hate making decisions on my own.”

“You have my vote!” Philip shouted.

Cyrus barked.

Hero snarled.

“Three’s good enough for me. Hold him steady, boys, and spread those legs. Jeez, where’d it go? C’mon, Otto, let me see it!”