Vendetta (18 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Chick-Lit, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Contemporary

BOOK: Vendetta
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“Oh, Barbara, is that you? Oh, thank you for…for coming to talk to me. I think about you every minute of the day. What is it you want me to tell Charles, dear?”

“You have to tell him about Jack and Nikki. Don’t pretend you didn’t hear what they were saying down there. Charles needs to know. By the way, you did good down there, Mom.”

More tears rolled down Myra’s cheeks. “Then why don’t I feel better? We skinned that horrible man. Because he…he took you and your unborn child away from us. I’ll be a murderer if he dies.”

“He’s not going to die, Mom. People like him live to ripe old ages. You were right about something, though. He’s never going to be the same. His life as he knew it will never be what it was. His best hope is that he has some good memories to make his new life bearable. You need to go down to the tunnels and talk to Charles. We have to watch out for Nikki and the others. Jack Emery can ruin everything you’re doing and planning on doing in the future. Are you listening to me, Mom?”

“Of course I’m listening, Barbara. Nikki still loves Jack.”

“Yes, she does, but she’s no fool, Mom. Our Nik is a bright girl. She’ll try to do what’s right. Trying might not be good enough, Mom. Don’t waste time; go to Charles. I’m going to my old room to wait for Nik. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, darling girl. More than you can ever know. I’ll do what you ask and talk to Charles.”

Murphy nudged Myra’s neck with his snout. Myra continued to stroke his big head as she ran the conversation with her dead daughter over in her mind. Did she dream it? Was it all the brandy she’d had in the kitchen? Or was it wishful thinking on her part? Maybe all of the above.

Holding on to the stair railing, Myra got to her feet, feeling a hundred years old, ancient, as she made her way down the long hallway that led to the spiral staircase in the middle of the house. She quietly made her way down the steps, Murphy at her side. She stopped at the bottom to listen. She could hear voices in the kitchen but she couldn’t distinguish the words. She then made her way to the secret door, Murphy still with her, nudging her along.

Myra came to a stop when she reached the opening in the tunnel that led to John Chai’s cell. All traces of what had gone on a short while ago were gone. Even the platter of food was nowhere to be seen. The bamboo cane and the CD player were also gone. Charles was leaning against the wall, staring into the cell where John Chai lay wrapped in a pristine white blanket soaked with a soothing antibacterial salve. His face and head glistened with the same antibacterial ointment. Myra thought he looked dead.

Murphy walked over to Charles and poked his leg with his snout. Charles continued to stare into the cell. “What is it, Myra?”

She told him all about Jack Emery.

“Ah, another problem. Well, I have all night to think about it. I want to stay here in case Mr. Chai tries to unwrap himself.”

Myra’s voice was bitter. “And if he does?”

“He could get an infection and die on us. That will make us murderers. We don’t want that, Myra. We may be many things, my dear, but we are not murderers. Tomorrow evening he will be taken to a private hospital.”

“That’s it?” Myra asked in disbelief. For a moment she looked outraged.

“There’s a little more to it,” Charles said carefully. “My people will take over from there. At some point, Mr. Chai will be transported to England and from England back to his own country.”

“And this never happened?” Myra said softly.

“And this never happened,” Charles said just as softly.

“Was it just, Charles? Did we avenge our little girl? Are we going to be able to live with ourselves?”

Charles took so long to answer that Myra pressed his arm for a response. “Yes, Myra, it was just. Extreme, but just. We both have to accept the fact that nothing can truly avenge our little girl. She’s still gone. Will we be able to live with ourselves? We might have a few bad moments from time to time, but yes, I think we will be able to. It’s late, Myra. Go to bed and I’ll sit here and think about our newest problem.”

“All right, dear. I’ll go to bed, but I know I won’t be able to sleep. Goodnight.” Myra leaned over to kiss Charles’s cheek. Murphy woofed softly as he led the way out of the tunnel.

In the kitchen the girls were still talking. Myra headed for the main staircase. Suddenly she was so tired she could barely stand. She sat down on the fourth step from the bottom. Barbara and Nikki had slid down this staircase hundreds of times. She’d placed pillows at the bottom so they wouldn’t hurt themselves. She herself had slid down the bannister on her fiftieth birthday, or was it her sixtieth? For the life of her she couldn’t remember. But in the scheme of things, it wasn’t important.

Myra leaned against the newel post and closed her eyes. She was asleep in an instant. Murphy tilted his head to the right and then to the left. When he was satisfied Myra was asleep, he stretched his body out on the third step, his big head on his paws. He didn’t close his eyes though.

A long time later, when Myra’s hold on the newel post grew lax and slipped, Murphy reared up and raced to the kitchen, where he tugged on Kathryn’s pant leg, his signal that she was to follow him. She got up and ran after her dog, the others following.

Together the girls managed to get Myra upstairs to her bedroom. She mumbled and muttered but didn’t wake up. Nikki covered her with a flowered quilt, turned on the night light and left the door ajar.

“Stay, Murphy,” Kathryn ordered.

Murphy hopped on to the bed and scratched around for a few minutes before he settled himself at the foot. This time, he closed his eyes.

Outside in the hallway, Nikki turned to the others. “We’ll meet in the kitchen at five thirty. Goodnight, everyone.”

They each made their way to their respective rooms. No one said a word.

Seventeen

For hours Nikki watched the red numerals on the digital clock turn over. It was almost five o’clock. Time to get up, shower and meet the girls in the kitchen. All night long she’d let her mind go in all directions. She was no closer to knowing what to do about Jack Emery than she was when she went to bed hours ago. All she knew was that she was going to meet him at Mulligan’s Café for doughnuts and coffee.

She’d never been a good liar. When she was a child, Myra had drummed into both her and Barbara that “The truth will set you free.” Not this time, Myra. Not this time. The truth will land us all in jail with Jack Emery standing on the other side taunting us the way we taunted John Chai.

During the long hours of the night she’d toyed with the idea of asking Jack and his partner to join the Sisterhood. If she did that, it would be an admission of guilt. She still loved Jack, but she didn’t trust him. Just the way he didn’t trust her. How sad this all was.

Nikki swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the shower. She looked back once to see if the rocker was moving or if Willie, Barbara’s worn teddy bear, was where she’d left it. Everything in her bedroom looked normal. She felt sick to her stomach when she brushed her teeth.

Nikki was in and out of the shower within minutes. As she dressed for the day, she craned her neck to see what the weather was like outside. Darkness. Suddenly she wanted to cry the way she’d cried as a child when her problems seemed insurmountable. One last look in the mirror showed dark circles under her eyes. She shrugged. At least they would match her navy wool sweater and matching slacks. She wore no makeup. What was the point? She was almost to the door when she walked back to the small dressing table to spray perfume on her wrists and the lobes of her ears.

The room still looked normal. The rocker was still and Willie was right where she’d left him. Nikki closed her eyes for a second, hoping she’d hear Barbara’s voice when she reopened them. It didn’t happen. She was on her own. Shoulders slumped, she made her way down the hall and down to the kitchen.

Nikki blinked when her foot hit the last step. The girls were seated at the kitchen table, even Myra. Charles was serving breakfast. How had she not noticed the fragrant aromas?

“How…how’s our…guest?” was all Nikki could think to ask.

Charles took a moment to look up from the grapefruit he was scoring. “Mr. Chai is resting as comfortably as can be expected. He’s heavily sedated but his vital signs are stable. He isn’t going to perish, if that’s your next question.”

Nikki reached up for the grapefruit. She wondered if she would be able to eat it. She tried, but in the end she slid it to the middle of the table before she reached for her coffee cup.

“Are you girls ready to hear our plan?” Myra asked as she gazed at Nikki. “The girls told me you were going to go to meet Jack Emery and then play it by ear. I’m afraid we need more of a plan. Charles thinks he might have a solution.”

“I’m certainly all ears,” Alexis said.

“We all are,” Isabelle agreed.

“For starters,” Charles said, “the roads are clear so driving is no problem. They are predicting several more inches of snow later this evening, but that won’t interfere with our plans.”

Nikki stared out of the kitchen window. The new day was just beginning. In another few minutes it would be blinding white outdoors. She gritted her teeth. “What are our plans, Charles?”

“It’s fairly simple. I think it will work and give us a little time to whisk Mr. Chai away from these premises and Julia back to Switzerland. You will meet Jack, at which point you will comment that he looks like he’s coming down with a bug of some sort. The power of suggestion. I’m going to give you a pill to drop in his coffee. How you will do that is entirely up to you.” At Nikki’s look of concern Charles hastened to add, “All it will do, Nikki, is to make him sweat, give him chills and a terrible, terrible headache. He’ll think he’s coming down with the flu. He’ll want to sleep within ten minutes. You will be solicitous and offer to drive him home. Jack will have no other recourse but to accept your offer. However, you won’t take him home, you’ll take him to Marie Lewellen’s house. Isabelle and Alexis, wearing minimal disguise, will go to Jack’s apartment where, once inside, they will render his roommate, Mark Lane, useless and then bring him to Marie Lewellen’s house to join Jack. Any questions so far?”

Nikki looked around the table. The others were nodding their heads in approval.

“Kathryn, also in disguise, will play the part of a nurse and will stay with the two of them until it is safe for her to return to Pinewood. They will be so groggy and disoriented they won’t have any clear memories of what transpired when they recover. No harm will come to either man. After Kathryn leaves, they will recover with nothing worse than a hangover for their ordeal.”

Nikki groaned. She looked doubtful and voiced her concern. “Charles, how do you think I’m going to drop something in Jack’s coffee without him seeing me do it? I know him. He’ll be expecting something like that. I want you all to stop thinking he’s a fool. He isn’t. Right now he’s angry. There are no rules when Jack gets angry. I just want you to know that.”

“Jack will get a call from Mark. Of course it won’t be Mark. He will have to walk toward the phone. That’s when his back will be to you. That’s when you drop the pill in his coffee. There will be static on the phone when he picks it up. He’ll blame it on the storm. A lot of wires are down all over the area. It’s the easiest and safest scenario I could come up with. I think it will work.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Nikki said.

“Plan B, dear. You don’t want to know,” Myra said cheerfully. “If I were you, I’d think about going back upstairs to put on some makeup.”

“You would, huh? OK, Myra, I can take a hint.”

The table cleared instantly as Alexis led the other girls to her room to work her magic. Nikki bounded up the back stairway and headed for her room.

Mark Lane looked at Jack as he shrugged into his down jacket. “You look like shit, Jack. Are you feeling all right?”

“I feel like shit, too. I think I’m coming down with a cold. My head is all stuffed up and I didn’t sleep at all last night. That coffee I drank didn’t help much either. Did you see my wool hat?”

“Yeah, Jack, I did see it. It’s hanging out of your pocket. Are you sure it isn’t just a case of the jitters at being up close and personal with Nikki again?”

“Yeah, that too. A double whammy. Look, I’ll see you when I see you. If you come up with anything on that computer of yours in regard to that little sojourn to China, call me at Mulligan’s. I need all the ammunition I can get to show Nik I’m not just fooling around.”

“Good luck, Jack.”

Jack offered up a sickly grin. “Where you been, Mark? Luck’s my middle name.”

A blast of arctic air slammed against Jack when he opened the lobby door of his apartment building. He did a double take when he saw his car stuck behind a snow bank. “Well, shit!” He stomped his way back upstairs and opened the apartment door. “We never shoveled out our cars, Mark! I’ll have to call a cab.”

“Oh, yeah, we were going to do that, weren’t we? Sorry, buddy. You need taxi fare?”

Jack showed him his middle finger as he dialed the cab company. He marched back to the lobby again to wait for the cab. He realized then he felt worse than shit. He felt half-dead. He touched his forehead the way his mother used to do when he was a little boy to see if he had a fever. His brow felt cool to his touch. He barreled out the door when he saw the blue and white taxi glide to the curb. He had to stomp through the piled-up snow to get into the cab. Snow immediately oozed down into his shoes. Shit! Cold wet feet meant he was
really
going to get sick.

Jack leaned back against the cracked leather seat and closed his eyes. He remembered two years ago when he’d gotten sick and Nikki had played nurse. She’d made him hot buttered rum drinks and chicken soup and nursed him around the clock. In the whole of his life he’d never felt so loved, so cared for. Somehow she’d convinced a doctor to make a house call, something unheard of in the District. She’d gone to the drugstore, picked up his prescriptions, set the timer on the stove to remind her to give him his medicine at precisely the right time. She’d even brought him fresh flowers to put on his nightstand. He wondered now if he would have died without her care.

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