Kiss and Tell (25 page)

“Are you saying you won't call the police?” Ava shrieked.
Stainless-steel toilet without a seat.

Lady's four pups didn't like the sounds coming from Ava's mouth. They started to howl as they circled her chair, their fangs bared. Ava tried to shrink into herself as Myra calmed the dogs.

“Gee, you're smart tonight, little sister. That is precisely what I am saying.” Ava could hear her brother laughing, and it incensed her even more.
No shower curtain.

“You . . . you . . . you
pimp!
”

Determined to have the last word, Adam replied, “Well, you would know, wouldn't you. Your father has been pimping you out to investors for years, and you allowed it. Good-bye, Ava, and don't bother to call me again.”

Ava's legs lashed out as she kicked at the table legs. She turned a venomous look on her father. “I guess you heard all that.”

“The boy is sick. He's delusional. He's trying to turn you against me. Can't you see that?”

Ava slumped in her chair as she sobbed. “Showtime!” Annie said. “The early bird gets the worm! Who wants to go first?” Her hand shot out to press the PLAY button on the recorder.

“L
ast chance!” Myra said.

Emanuel Macklin looked at the two women. He'd always been a shrewd judge of character, but these two women were from some other planet. They had no rules, that was obvious. No concocted story would fly with either of them. It was all or nothing. He wished his head weren't so fuzzy. It was hard to think with the fierce pain in his groin and the dog eyeballing him. He wondered if it was part wolf and lived for the taste of blood. His. He could feel something wet trickling down his leg. How much could he safely say to satisfy these two crazy weirdos and still walk away from this? If only he could think straight. If only a lot of things. He looked over at Ava, who looked like she'd zoned out. These women were also crazy smart. He had to accept that and the fact that they meant business. They knew how to get to Ava just the way her brother knew how—through her vanity. Which just went to show that women were inferior to men. Stupid, actually.

If he managed to walk away from this hellhole, he'd head straight for Olympic Ridge, grab his golf bag, and beat feet. He felt a twinge when he thought about leaving his daughter behind to face the courts and the court of public opinion. He hoped she had enough money left to buy a really good wig.

“Time is money, Mr. Macklin!” Myra said.

“Get this dog off me first. Let me use the bathroom and give me some medical supplies. Show me the transportation you will provide, and we can have a serious discussion about what you want to know so badly.”

“Well, that's not going to happen anytime soon, Mr. Macklin. You talk first, then we'll let you know if the information you provide works for us,” Annie said. “Talk fast because I'm getting really tired of having to refill those pots on the stove.”

Macklin sighed. He thought that would be the women's response, but it was still worth a try. He looked at his daughter, who appeared to be asleep. Or else she was in shock. He shrugged. Bluff. He'd always been good at that. A sweet charmer. In his gut, however, he knew there was nothing in the world that could charm these two harridans. They'd spot a lie in a nanosecond. Plus, he had no clue how much Adam had really divulged. Adam and the women could both be lying.

For the first time in his life as Emanuel Macklin, he did not know what to do. He wondered if his daughter was faking sleep? He wouldn't put it past her.

Myra risked a glance at Annie, who was starting to look concerned. It looked to her like the slick old geezer wasn't going to talk. The longer they waited, the less credibility they would have in his eyes. He'd start to think they were bluffing. Annie rolled her eyes, which meant it was time to make a decision.

“All right, Mr. Macklin, your time is up. We gave you every opportunity to help us out here.”

And then it was like a lightbulb suddenly went off in Myra's head. “You know, we were actually going to give you . . . a bonus for fessing up. We were going to tell you about Marie and Sally. By the way, they're the ladies that hired us to . . . make you come to your senses. Now, I guess you'll never get to meet them. At least, not in this lifetime.”

At the mention of Marie and Sally, Ava reared up. “Who?”

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty has awakened. Marie and Sally were childhood friends of your father.”

Macklin was so stunned, he thought he was going to black out. “You know where Marie and Sally are?”

“We do. I told you, they hired us to go after you. They did not like the person you turned into. They told us how you all left the orphanage and how you taught them how to panhandle and steal. They said you took care of them.” Myra rattled on and on, saying everything she could remember of what Sara and Tressie had told them. She finished by explaining about the fire at the rooming house and the telephone booth on the corner being demolished. “Now what do you have to say, Mr. Macklin?”

“Who are Marie and Sally? What orphanage? What are they talking about, Daddy?” Macklin ignored his daughter as he stared at the two women towering over him. They had to be telling him the truth; there was no other way in this whole wide world that they could know about the orphanage, Marie, and Sally.

Macklin cleared his throat. “Bring them here, and I'll tell you everything you want to know. But you have to agree to let the three of us walk away from here. Agree to that, and you have a deal.”

“What about me?” Ava shrieked.

“What a guy!” Annie said.

“Well, that's not going to work either. Marie and Sally don't want to see you. Why else do you think they hired us? They want you brought to justice. Get the water, Annie. Start with this sterling fellow.”

Ava was still shrieking, saying that if her father walked out of here, she was going, too. Myra gave her a light swat and told her to quiet down.

Annie opened the cabinet and withdrew a four-quart Pyrex measuring cup. She dipped it into the pot of boiling water, filled it, and walked over to the table. “Last chance!” Macklin squeezed his eyes shut. Myra snapped her fingers and Lady backed away to stand at her side.

Annie poured. Steam wafted upward as Macklin roared in pain.

“Don't stop now, Annie. Hit the daughter!”

Two things happened at that moment. Annie poured the boiling water over Ava's head and the kitchen door blew open to reveal Ted, Espinosa, Maggie, and Dennis, who took in the scene, their faces full of shock.

Maggie recovered first. “Looks like you've been busy. Need any help?”

“Actually, no, dear. I think we have it all under control. They were quite . . . reticent, so we had to act. We did bend over backward for them, but they couldn't see their way to cooperating. Now we'll have to get an extraction team in here to tidy up. What's the weather?”

“Bad,” Maggie said, peering at Ava's bald red head. “Ooh, this is going to bubble up. Bet she's going to be scarred. Hope she has a good wig. What's up with that skank?” she said, jerking her head in Macklin's direction.

“He didn't want to cooperate. We had no other choice. He doesn't look very pretty right now,” Myra said.

Espinosa clicked and clicked his camera. Dennis grabbed hold of a chair and held on for dear life. He was as white as the snow outside. “Something wrong, Son?” Annie asked.

“Absolutely not.” Oh God, everything they said about the Vigilantes was true. He needed to hold it together and think Pulitzer. He wondered if Maggie and Ted would include him on the byline. He could handle this. He wasn't a wuss.

“We need to get these two down in the dungeon. At least until we can get Avery out here,” Myra said. “I just don't know how we're going to do that.”

Dennis walked across the kitchen to the laundry room and looked around. He found what he was looking for behind the pantry door. He carried out a professional-looking ironing board. “Just slide them one at a time on it and we can slide it down the steps.”

“Son, that is a positively brilliant solution. And one that will work. Well, boys and girls, let's get to it so we can get Myra's kitchen back to normal,” Annie said. “Once we get them in the cells, we can put the antibiotic ointment on their heads. The rest will be up to Avery and his people. Not to worry, they aren't going to die.” This last was said for Dennis's benefit. “The Vigilantes do not allow their targets to die,” Annie added. The young reporter almost swooned at her words.

The transition from the main house to the underground dungeon did not go smoothly. Twice, Espinosa lost control of his end of the ironing board, and it resulted in Ted's slamming the board against the stone wall. They finally got the big man to his cell and dumped him on a cot loaded with blankets. He moaned and groaned. Maggie told him to pipe down or she'd gag him.

The second trip down the steep stairs went no better than the first. Ava looked like a rag doll. An ugly rag doll. When Espinosa felt the board slide out of his grip, Ted jumped to the side and the board bounced every step of the way down to the bottom. Ted shrugged as he picked up his end and, between the two of them, got Ava situated in her own cell. He eyed the toilet and sink between the two cells that Charles had installed several years ago when they had a few long-term guests. It wasn't the Ritz, but it would do.

It was left up to Maggie to smear the antibacterial ointment, using sterile gauze pads, all over father's and daughter's heads. She washed her hands, took a last look around, and headed back through the dungeon, following the sounds of the tinkling bells that Myra had installed for her young daughter years and years ago when she used to play down here with her friends.

The kitchen was back to normal, everyone sitting around the table. Coffee was dripping into the pot. Dennis was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for everyone.

“Did you call Avery?”

“We did. He'll be here as soon as he can. Early morning was his best guess. I gave him the addresses of every apartment Macklin has leased, Ava's apartment in New York, and the house at Olympic Ridge. With this weather, we might luck out, allowing them to clean everything out before the Feds take over.”

“I can't believe those two wouldn't give it up,” Ted said. “I would have sung like a canary. They've got to be in a world of pain. No amount of money is worth going through what those two just went through. No amount,” Ted repeated.

Myra's cell phone took that moment to ring. The others watched her as she listened to the caller on the other end of the phone. When she finally hung up, they looked at her expectantly.

“Good news. That was Avery. He's got people already inside Ava Macklin's penthouse apartment. His people are using an ambulance, and he said he lucked out here also. He said he was closer to Olympic Ridge than here at Pinewood, so he's using ambulances out there at Olympic Ridge. He said the weather right now works for them. He said he would be inside the Ridge house in about an hour. If there's anything in there, he will find it. He couldn't give me a definite time when he would make it out here to pick up . . . ah . . . his patients.”

“Who is Avery?” Dennis asked.

“Someone you don't want to know,” Espinosa snapped.

Maggie's cell phone buzzed. She looked at the caller ID and grinned. “It's Abner.” As with Myra, they all watched her as she listened to Abner. When she broke the connection, she smiled. “He's faxing a boatload of stuff. Said it's just what we need. It should come through shortly.”

Myra clapped her hands. “Wonderful!” Dennis paced the kitchen. “Will the patients be okay?”

“Yes, Son, the patients will be okay,” Myra said. “Didn't you see me give them a shot of painkiller? They'll sleep through the night. I'm sure Avery will be here by morning, and he will make sure the . . . patients will receive expert medical aid. Trust me, they are not going to die. That's not to say they might not long for death. All you have to concern yourself with is that we have saved many, many people's retirement funds, erased many sleepless nights for others, and, hopefully, his secret funds will be returned to the innocent people who trusted Emanuel Macklin by believing in his lies.”

“Myra, I think you should call Mary and her son and bring them up to date,” Annie said. “I . . . ah . . . wouldn't go into too much detail. Just hit the high spots.” Myra nodded and headed off to the laundry room to make her call.

When Myra returned to the kitchen, she said, “They both thanked us profusely. There was no joy or jubilation. Just a calm acceptance that justice is served where Emanuel and Ava Macklin are concerned.”

“Where is that person Avery going to take the patients?” Dennis asked.

“We never know, Dennis,” Myra answered.

“And we never ask. When a mission is over, it's over. Period. We move on and put it behind us. I think that Marie and Sally, aka Sara and Tressie, can now rest in peace. That's what this was all about, Dennis. We did what they wanted, and we were successful, we did not fail. If you have any problems with any of this, now is the time to voice them.”

Dennis felt his head bob up and down with no conscious thought that he himself was nodding. “I'm good.”

“Then let's check the weather and go to bed. We're going to need to get up early in case Avery finds a way to get out here sooner rather than later.”

And that was what they did.

At the top of the steps, Myra looked at Annie and raised her eyebrows. “Case closed, right, Annie?”

“Case closed, Myra. Now we can make plans to go to Vegas.”

“Not so quick. We need to get it all together so we can present it to the FBI in one neat package. And we want to do that at the same moment the kids get their Pulitzer.”

Annie wrapped her arm around Myra's shoulders. “The end justifies the means, right?”

“Yes, Annie, the end in this case justifies the means.”

 

 

Three days before Christmas a huge box wrapped in silver paper and tied with a bright red velvet ribbon was delivered to the Federal Bureau of Investigation at the Hoover Building. The package was simply addressed to the Director of the FBI. It was delivered at 5:50.

The following morning the early edition of the
Post
carried a warlike black headline on its front page. The byline carried the names of Maggie Spitzer, Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, and Dennis West.

The twenty-four-hour news channels went crazy.

Wall Street shut down.

The Hoover Building doubled its lobby security.

In Las Vegas, where it was three hours earlier, Myra and Annie were seated at side-by-side slot machines.

“Here goes nothing! It's my last dollar!” Myra watched as three golden bars danced across the screen. “Oh look, Annie, I won thirty-three dollars. Enough to take you to breakfast!”

Just then it sounded like every bell and whistle in the casino went off. Even at that hour, the crowd of people started to scream and holler that someone had won a million dollars. Myra stood up to see where the machine was and looked across the room, straight at her husband, Charles, and Fergus. People rushed by. Myra blinked, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see were people rushing to the winning slot machine.