Chapter 13
The sound of the shrill landline’s ringing in the quiet kitchen at Pinewood startled both Charles and Myra. It was rare that the house phone rang, and when it did, it was mostly the feed store or someone confirming an inspection for something or other. Husband and wife looked at each other. Myra threw her hands in the air as Charles swiveled around in his chair to reach for the phone. Myra did a double take when she heard Charles say, “Avery, why are you calling on this phone? Oh. No, it isn’t a problem. You usually call on my cell phone, but, yes, I understand the weather is playing havoc with all things electrical, so I guess that is true of cyberspace as well. Myra and I are just trying to decide what to have for lunch. We’re waiting for Annie and Fergus. The good news is that the rain finally stopped last night.”
Myra threw her hands in the air again, her expression clearly saying, Get to the point of the call already, Charles.
Charles listened to the old spy for ten solid minutes. Finally he said, “I must say that surprises me, but yet it doesn’t. If that makes any kind of sense. The girls will go over the moon when I tell them. Keep up the good work, mate. I love solid intel like this.”
“What! What!” Myra shouted. “What did he say that will put us ‘over the moon’?”
Charles was about to expound on the phone call when Annie and Fergus whipped into the courtyard, sending Lady and her pups into a frenzy of barking.
“Why don’t we wait for Annie and Fergus, so I don’t have to repeat myself. Two minutes, Myra! Can you wait that long?”
Myra opened the door wide for the dogs to barrel through; then she stepped back as Annie and Fergus did the obligatory ear scratch and belly rub. Everyone hugged, even though they had seen each other less than twelve hours earlier. As Annie put it: “We’re huggers.” And that was the end of that.
“Hurry, hurry, you two! Charles has news. Avery just called, and Charles wouldn’t tell me anything when he saw you drive through the gates, because he simply does not want to repeat whatever it is twice,” Myra said as she handed out treats to the clamoring dogs.
“Well, we’re here now, Charles, so spit it out. By the way, the water on the roads is gone, just so you know. That means we can go out and about. Well, Charles, what is it?” Annie demanded, her tone as impatient as Myra’s.
Charles grinned. “I was just waiting for you to stop talking long enough so I could tell you.” He then proceeded to repeat, virtually verbatim, everything Avery had told him about Arthur Forrester’s phone calls to Henry Ballard at the firm.
“And Henry Ballard, pillar of the community that he is, agreed to find two people willing to perjure themselves,” Fergus said, his voice full of shock. “What kind of lawyer would do something like that?”
“Why not? He did it once before, so why should this time be any different?” Annie snapped back.
“It’s not the same thing, Annie. You read all the filings. Ballard, the firm, didn’t hire Mr. Spicer to perjure himself. He came to them. They steered him, guided, if you prefer that word, to their way of thinking. In a way, it’s really apples and oranges,” Charles said. “What Arthur Forrester is telling them to do, mind you, telling, not asking, is to go out and find people who will outright perjure themselves for money. Standing in their shoes, they see their life’s work going down the drain. They probably think Garland Lee has more money than God and won’t miss those escrow monies. They get Forrester out of their lives, and the firm remains intact.
“If they do not agree to do what Forrester wants, too many people get hurt and have their lives ruined. They’re between a rock and a hard place, and I would not like to be one of them. To see your life’s work destroyed by one evil, angry, blackhearted man is, I’m sure, more than they can bear. I’m sure they weighed it all very carefully and decided to go along with him as the lesser of two evils.
“I find it very telling that Arthur is accusing the partners of being responsible for the newspapers’ headlines this morning concerning Garland. And the partners are blaming Arthur for planting the listening device in the conference room. We need to thank the powers-that-be that Arthur did not discover the bugs in his own condo.”
Annie looked at Myra.
Myra looked at Annie.
Myra reached for her handbag on the clothes tree by the back door as she followed Annie out the door.
“Love, where are you going?” Charles called out.
“To take care of business,” Annie shot back before Myra could respond.
“That was a really stupid question to ask, mate,” Fergus said. “What’s for lunch?”
“Whatever you make. I’m allowed a stupid question from time to time, Ferg,” Charles said defensively.
“Yes, but that was a really stupid question. You should know the minute those two women hear something like what you just told them, they have to share it with the others. I hope you also realize that they did not invite us to go along with them—nor did they leave us with any instructions. Having explained all that just now, I ask you, what’s for lunch?”
“Of course I realize that, Ferg. We’re chopped liver. They’re probably hatching a plan as we speak. By the time they get into the District, they’ll have it down pat. Do not be surprised if we don’t see them for a few days.”
Fergus poked his head into the refrigerator and quickly withdrew it when he didn’t see anything to his liking. “What do you think the plan will be?”
“They’re going to move up their timetable and go to Riverville and do the snatch right away.”
A look of horror crossed Fergus’s craggy features. “Without Avery in the background? Don’t tell me that. That’s . . . That’s . . .”
“Dangerous is the word you’re looking for,” Charles muttered.
“Then we need to call Avery right now.”
Charles looked at Fergus. “Think about what you just said. I wouldn’t want to be you when Avery tells Annie you called him to step in.”
“Ah, yes, I do see your point, Sir Charles. Some things I’m thinking are better left alone. Which brings me back to this. What’s for lunch?”
“And my answer is the same as before—whatever you decide to make.”
Fergus paced the vast kitchen, his face a mask of worry. He mumbled something that sounded like he did not, he absolutely did not, want peanut butter and jelly for lunch. Then he mumbled again about the best-laid plans of mice and men.
“Be serious here, Charles, what do you think they’re going to do?”
“God only knows, Ferg, but whatever it is, it won’t bode well for Arthur Forrester. That’s a given. Stop fretting, those women can take on an army and come out winners.”
“Uh-huh. Is that why you look so worried?”
“I was born to worry, Ferg. How about a ham-and-cheese omelet for lunch? Will that satisfy you?”
Fergus turned wily. “That depends on what you plan for dinner.”
“I thought we’d go into town and have dinner. We haven’t been anywhere in a few days, and I’m starting to get cabin fever. So an omelet or not?”
Fergus opened the refrigerator and reached for a bowl of brown eggs and handed it over to Charles. “I’ll grate the cheese and chop the ham.”
Charles nodded, his thoughts on his wife and Annie and what they were planning on their trip into the District. He told himself, over and over, till he was almost convinced, that perhaps it was better that he didn’t know.
* * *
As Charles cracked eggs into a bowl, Myra and Annie were rattling on ten miles to the minute. Myra was so engrossed in their conversation, she didn’t bother to chastise Annie for her hair-raising driving.
“I called Yoko, and she’s calling the others to meet up at the nursery. At first, I thought about calling the meeting at Nikki’s law office or the Post, but negated that almost immediately. We don’t want anyone to pay attention to us as a group. The nursery is the perfect place. Do you agree, Annie?”
“Absolutely. This is the part I like the best, Myra, when we all get together, forge the deal, and make our move.
“I keep thinking about the name partners at Forrester’s old firm, and what he’s forcing them to do so he can get all those escrow monies. I’m trying to put myself in their place and wonder what I’d do if I was up against it. It has to be a nightmare for them. I’m willing to cut them some slack with that case of Tram v Oden. Mr. Spicer went to them, and they, in turn, merely made it work to their advantage. I think it’s even possible that no actual perjury was committed if Spicer believed what he testified to. So I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing in that case.
“This, though, is a horse of a different color. This is deliberate subornation of perjury—I think that’s the fancy lawyer’s jargon I once heard Nikki use—on Forrester’s part and the partners’ as well. Plain and simple, he’s blackmailing his former partners. What would you do, Annie, if you were them?”
Annie eased up on the gas pedal, turned on her signal light, and moved cautiously around a moving van that wasn’t driving fast enough to suit her. Back in the right lane and cruising at a speed of seventy-five miles an hour, she said, “I’d like to believe I’d own it and step up to the plate. I’m not sure I would, though, if there was a threat to, say, you, the girls, and Fergus. I’d want to protect you at all costs. And myself as well. I don’t know what I’d do, Myra, to be absolutely honest with you.”
“I feel the same way. We can do something about that, Annie. We can do it right now, from this car, before we get to Yoko’s nursery. We have the power to put the three partners out of their misery, and you know this thing is eating away at them. Their lives will be ruined, the firm will be in a shambles, and all sixty of the associates and partners of the firm will be tainted forever. The big question right this very minute is, do we do it on our own—without consulting the others—or do we wait and do it later? What do you think?”
“I think we should wait and put it to a vote. I know I’d get downright cranky if one or two of the girls did something without consulting us. I think you’d feel the same way. What we have going for us works because we work as a team.”
“You’re right, Annie. As usual. I guess I’m just anxious, and I so hate injustice. Not only is Arthur Forrester a sack of putrescence, but he’s an evil little weasel in the bargain. I want to pull the skin right off his face and pour vinegar over him.”
Annie laughed. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel about him. That’s a joke, Myra. Do you think we’ll be leaving for Riverville today or tomorrow?”
Myra nibbled on her thumbnail as she stared out the passenger-side window at the scenery that was passing in a blur. Today for some reason, Annie’s heavy foot on the gas pedal wasn’t bothering her in the least.
“Tomorrow makes more sense to me. But the girls might think traveling at night would be better. We’d have to find lodging if we leave tonight, or else we stay awake all night or take turns sleeping in the van. What’s your preference?”
“As you well know, I prefer doing something as opposed to talking about doing something. I’m not sure traveling up to Riverville in the daylight is such a good idea. I know there are hundreds of white vans on the road, but why take the chance of someone’s spotting us or remembering us?”
“Good point. Well, we’ll put it to a vote when we get there. It’s the next turnoff, Annie. You need to slow down, like now. Oh, my God! You took that curve on two wheels, and don’t say you didn’t! I have whiplash! Do you have some kind of death wish, Countess de Silva?”
“All you do is complain, Myra. Look, we’re here! Safe and sound! Did you forget when I took those defensive driving courses you said were a waste of time? You are more of a danger on the road at the speed you drive than I could ever be. Plus, this vehicle is built for speed. I’m just trying to prove the engineers right! Otherwise, I’ll take the car back for false advertising.
“You can get out now, Myra. The car is at a full stop, and the engine is already off. You also have to take your hands off those damn pearls, so you can open the door.”
“I hate you!” Myra grated as she exited the low-slung sports car.
“Well, I love you, so get your ass in gear, the girls are waiting for us. Look alive, Myra!”
“I really do hate you!”
“Uh-huh,” Annie said as she hugged Kathryn, who had run to her. The others followed until all the hugging and laughing was done.
Annie moved closer to Myra. “Do you still hate me?” She sounded like she cared.
“I should have pushed you off that cliff in Spain when I had the chance.”
“But you didn’t. And here we are.”
Myra laughed. “Yes, here we are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, linking arms with Annie.
“Me too.” Annie grinned. “Okay, girls, let’s get to it!”
“When you called earlier, I had the boys finish emptying out greenhouse three. We can conduct the meeting in there, and no one will bother us,” Yoko said. “We can sit on the benches. The potting tables are cleaned off. Just follow me.”
“It smells like gardenias in here,” Isabelle said.
Yoko giggled. “That’s because this is the gardenia greenhouse. We just moved them all out to put under the overhang. By the end of the day, they’ll all be gone. So why are we meeting like this? What’s up?”
Annie and Myra took turns explaining about Avery Snowden’s earlier phone call to Charles. “What should we do, girls?” Myra concluded. “Do you want to leave tonight or tomorrow?”
“Night versus day,” Annie said.
A long, detailed discussion followed as each sister listed the pros and cons of day versus night travel, with Maggie having the last word. “I have to have the van checked out, and I’m going to have to find a Maryland magnetic decal for both sides, not to mention a Maryland license plate. The decals won’t be too much of a problem, but the Maryland license plates will be. We might need to contact Avery Snowden for those.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed to slits. In a cold voice that could have thawed a rib roast, she said, “No, we will not be contacting Avery. He left us flat. You all need to remember that. We’re on our own. Getting the Maryland license plates won’t pose a problem. I’ll just call Jackson Sparrow and have him deliver a set to the Post. He has contacts. I feel confident that he can have them to us by late this afternoon. If you can get the magnetic decals by then, we can go this evening.”
“Which then raises the question, do we get a hotel room for the night? What will we do all day tomorrow while we wait?” Nikki asked.
“I need some time to gather stuff for my red bag. I have a client coming in at three, but I know him well enough to cancel without his being offended. That’s if we’re still going with the plan we talked about out at the farm,” Alexis said. “Are we going with that plan?”
The girls all nodded. “Okay, then, make the decision, tonight or tomorrow?”
The sisters kicked it around for a few more minutes, and the final decision was to leave around midnight. Nikki made reservations at the Riverville Inn for a one-night stay and booked four rooms. She went on to explain that a block away from the inn was a twenty-four-hour supermarket, where they could park the van and walk to the inn. “No sense giving anyone room to speculate why a bunch of women would arrive in the wee hours of the morning in a van. People notice things like that and remember them later.”
“Good point,” Maggie said.
“Who is going to get in touch with Avery’s operative to secure the key to Forrester’s condo? Maybe the question should be, will she give it up to us on our say-so? Or does she have to check with Avery Snowden?” Kathryn asked.
“I can send her a text, if you think it’s okay,” Isabelle said.
Annie bristled again at the mention of Snowden and his operative in the same sentence. “No, dear, I think I should be the one to contact Mr. Snowden’s operative. I think her name is Sasha. Not to worry, she’ll give it up.”
“Avery is going to pitch a fit,” Myra said. “He’ll view this as going over his head.”
“Really!” Annie drawled. “And who pays Mr. Snowden? I rest my case. And remember this, girls, he left us to run down to the boys in Delaware. That is so not cool in my book. You start a mission, you stick with it to the end. I think Mr. Avery Snowden, no matter how good he thinks he is, we’re better. Agreed?”
No one disagreed. “Good. Myra, you call Jackson Sparrow while I send off a text to Sasha Quantrell. The rest of you finalize our plans, then there is one more item on our agenda before we part company.”
Nikki looked across at Kathryn and winked. Annie was on a roll. This meant that life was about to get really, really interesting.
Business taken care of, the girls waited patiently for Myra and Annie to tell them the last bit of news. Myra took the lead and explained the situation with the partners at Arthur Forrester’s old firm.
“It’s my opinion that we can’t let the partners go down that road when we plan to take out Mr. Forrester. We can’t let them go ahead and ruin their lives and the lives of everyone who works at their firm. It’s not right. They are not evil people. Forrester has them backed into a corner, and they don’t see any way out. Myra and I talked about this on the way in this morning, and neither one of us could say for certain that we would not do the same thing if our feet were put to the fire. What we can do is call them and explain, or maybe even go to the firm and talk it out. I’m thinking they’ll be so grateful they won’t give us a bit of trouble.
“Don’t let what you know about their case, Tram v Oden, color your thoughts. Yes, at first blush, we all went a little schizzy, but they did not recruit Mr. Spicer to commit perjury. He came to them. And if I am right, he probably believed what he said on the witness stand, so he did not even perjure himself, and they did not suborn perjury.
“They did what they did, but later made it right, or as right as they could. I say that’s in the past, and this is now. We need to take a vote on what to do. But first, before you make your decision, ask yourselves, and be honest, how far would you be willing to go to protect all that you hold near and dear?”
“I think we should tell the firm,” Maggie said. “I don’t want it on my conscience that we could have stopped something this serious and didn’t. I’m sure there is a serious cliché that I could trot out to support what I just said, but I can’t think of one right now. There are just too many lives at stake here.”
The others agreed. Annie and Myra both sighed in relief.
Another discussion followed to decide who the lucky person to make the call would be. In the end, the vote went to Kathryn. It was also agreed that the others would leave to do what they had to do, to make sure they got off by midnight. Yoko volunteered her office for the call to be made to Ballard, Ballard and Quinlan.
“You aren’t nervous, are you, dear?” Myra asked.
“No. Don’t jinx me, Myra. Make some quick notes so I get my facts straight. I think I have it, you all explained the situation very well, but you never know. I don’t want to screw this up for us.”
While Annie and Myra conferred and scribbled notes, Yoko made tea and offered her famous sticky rice cakes on a huge platter, which Kathryn immediately started to scarf down. Then she left the threesome to oversee what was going on with the greenhouse gardenias.
Kathryn scanned the scribbled notes carefully. She mumbled and muttered under her breath as she rehearsed what she planned on saying. Finally she looked over at Myra and Annie, and said, “I think I have it. Keep your pens and papers handy in case I make a goof and tell me what to say to correct it. Call the number!”
Annie punched in the numbers, but not before she blocked the call so the number would not show up on the firm’s end.
Kathryn closed her eyes as she waited to be connected. She nodded to Myra and Annie to show the connection had gone through.
Kathryn’s skin prickled at the cheerful-sounding voice. “Ballard, Ballard and Quinlan. How may I direct your call?”
Kathryn said, “I’d like to speak to Henry Ballard, please. Tell him it’s urgent and it concerns Arthur Forrester.”
“Who shall I say is calling?”
“My name isn’t important. Mr. Ballard will understand that when you tell him this call concerns Arthur Forrester. I’ll hold.” Kathryn rolled her eyes at Myra and Annie, who just shrugged.
Kathryn sat up a little straighter when she heard the rich baritone that was Henry Ballard’s voice. “How can I help you, Miss . . .”
“Mr. Ballard, my name is of no importance, but what I have to tell you, and share with you, is. I know what Arthur Forrester has asked you to do. I know you agreed because you and your partners thought you had no other choice. I am calling you to tell you that you do have a choice, and that choice is for you to do nothing. My . . . um . . . colleagues and I will take care of Mr. Arthur Forrester.
“I know you found the listening device we planted in your conference room. What you do not know is that we also planted listening devices in Mr. Forrester’s condo, so we could monitor the situation, which has now gotten out of control. We, my colleagues and I, have no desire to see you do something you will regret for the rest of your life. Now, having said that, I want you to call Mr. Forrester back and tell him that everything is under control. Tell him you have the two people who are willing to perjure themselves, but that it will take at least two days to get them comfortable with what you are asking them to do. If he says that’s not good enough, hold your ground and say it is the best you can do and to take it or leave it. Trust me, he won’t put up too much of an argument.”
“Who . . . who are you? Why are you, whoever you are, involved in this? When the dust settles, are you going to blackmail me, too? This whole debacle is wildly insane,” Henry Ballard blustered.
“I think you should consider me a very good friend right now, along with my colleagues. We mean you no harm. We simply want to help you so you do not make a mistake that will haunt you and many others for the rest of your lives. Let’s leave it that my colleagues and I don’t believe that the courts always get it right. When they screw up, we try to make things right.”
“Oh, my God, are you . . . you are.... ?”
“The answer to your question is yes. Do you trust us?”
“If you are who I think you are, then yes, with my life, is my answer.”
“All right, from here on in, the only thing you have to do is make the phone call and be sure to be convincing. You are ‘off the hook,’ as the saying goes. You’ll know what to do legally to end this mess once . . . Mr. Forrester sees the light. Oh, one last thing, Mr. Ballard. This call never happened.”
“What call?” Ballard said, but he was talking to dead air.
Ballard put his head down on his desk and prayed to everyone and anything he could think of. He prayed for thirty full minutes before he raised his head, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“There is a God,” he whispered to the empty room. “I always knew there was, but this proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
In the whole of his life, Henry Ballard never felt such peace as he felt at that precise moment in time.
* * *
Kathryn reached for the last sticky rice cake and popped it in her mouth. “We’re good, ladies. He bought it. Poor thing, I felt sorry for him. Should we call Garland Lee?”
“I don’t think so, not just yet,” Myra said.
“Then if you don’t mind my skipping out, I want to check on Murphy. Jackson Sparrow said he’d take care of him while I took care of business. He loves animals and watches out for Maggie’s cat, Hero. Don’t look at me like that!”
“Are you happy, Kathryn?” Myra and Annie asked at the same time.
Kathryn turned serious. “I never . . . I never thought I could ever be truly happy again after Alan died. I believed it for so long that I . . . Yes, yes, yes, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
The women hugged. All three had tears in their eyes. They continued to hug each other, crooning words only women knew to soothe the soul, the mind, the heart, and the body.