Lethal Justice. Fern Michaels
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a phone number?”
Yoko turned pink. “No, but he wanted mine. I didn’t give it up.” She eyed Kathryn and said, “I’m not easy. But …” Her eyes grew round. “The clerk called me when I got home and told me the man asked for my address. She gave me his name. She said he was an important man. She gave it up because she said it was time for me to … you know …”
“Hop in the sack,” Isabelle said, finishing Yoko’s sentence for a second time. The women burst out laughing, even Myra and Yoko herself.
“So, who is he?” Nikki asked.
“He’s not … pretty.”
“You mean handsome. Men are handsome, women are pretty,” Kathryn said.
“Okay, hand-some. His name is Harry Wong. He teaches martial arts to police officers.”
Nikki was glad there was nothing in her hands because she would have dropped it. Harry Wong was Jack’s friend. Unless there were two Harry Wongs who taught martial arts to police officers.
Kathryn leaned forward. “And this clerk at the Asian market just gave you all this info … because …”
“I grilled her,” Yoko said smartly. “I could probably teach him a thing or two. He has a dojo downtown.”
“This is so exciting,” Myra said. “Let me guess. You are going to go to the dojo and pretend you want to take lessons. It will be a chance encounter, that kind of thing. I think that’s what I would do.”
Kathryn burst out laughing. “You little devil, Myra.” Myra accepted the statement as a compliment.
“Is that what you’re going to do?” Alexis demanded.
“Yes. I scheduled an appointment. It will be very difficult to play stupid. I do not know how to do that.”
“Dumb, not stupid. There’s a difference. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you. Well, this certainly has been an interesting discussion. When is your first lesson?” Kathryn asked.
“Tomorrow, but I plan to cancel it. I want him to get wet.”
The women went off into peals of laughter. “You mean sweat.”
“Yes, sweat. I will reschedule. I may never go. I will schedule and reschedule.”
Charles appeared in the doorway leading to the terrace. “What’s so funny?”
“You don’t want to know, dear. Are you ready for us?”
Charles backed up a step. He blinked. Many thoughts flew through his mind. They were so united. So in tune with one another. So together. He wondered how he would fare if they ever turned on him. He shuddered. He took a second to look across at his lady love. Somewhere along the way, Myra had definitely become a Sister. He had no other choice but to believe it was a good thing.
Charles led the procession to a solid wall of bookshelves. The women waited while he counted down the various carvings on the intricate molding that ran the length of the bookshelves. The moment his fingers touched the lowest carving, the wall moved slowly and silently to reveal a set of stairs and a large room with wall-to-wall computers that blinked and flashed, as well as a mind-boggling, eye-level closed-circuit television screen that showed the outside security gates. Each wall seemed to be made up of television screens, their sound muted. MSNBC was playing on the south wall, CNN on the north wall, FOX on the east wall. Overhead, fans whirred softly, the only sound in the room, and there were no windows to be seen.
This underground room was the Sisterhood’s command center. Charles was the one responsible for installing the cutting-edge, solar-powered electrical system. Stored power could last a full month, Charles was proud to announce.
All the women knew the story of the tunnels underneath Pinewood. Myra had told them at their first meeting that in the old days her ancestors helped the slaves reach safety via the tunnels. Now, a modern day ventilation system had been installed but Myra was the one responsible for hanging bells at each entrance. She was fond of saying, “Just in case.”
While Charles referred to this special place as the command center, the women called it the war room. They took their seats at a round table just as Charles pressed a button. The plasma TV screens momentarily darkened to be replaced with Lady Justice towering above them. It was always a sobering moment for the women, a reminder of why they were all sitting in a top-secret room no one knew about.
There was no chitchat now, no laughter, not even a smile. Taking the law into one’s hands was a sobering experience.
Myra called the meeting to order. “Before we get down to the business of today, is there any old business that needs to be discussed?”
“Anything on the Barringtons?” Nikki asked.
Charles stepped forward. “No, Nikki, nothing. I have not given up but there are just so many hours in the day. Finding the Barringtons is still a top priority. We’ll have to leave it at that for the moment.”
Nikki leaned back in her chair, her thoughts turning toward Jack and what Yoko had said out on the terrace. Should she tell Jack about Harry Wong? Should she keep Yoko’s news to herself? She decided on the latter, having no wish to betray a sister. She didn’t have to confide everything to Jack. A woman needed to keep some things secret. She wondered how many secrets Jack kept from her. She couldn’t help but wonder if trust would ever be total. She rather doubted it.
“If there’s no other news then I suggest we move on,” Myra said. “If you’ll open your folders you can all read Alexis’s history. Our sister was a very successful securities broker at one point in her life. As they say in the business, she was up and coming. Then she took a month-long vacation, her first in six years. When she returned, she was arrested for a securities fraud she did not commit. Her employers, a man and a woman, framed Alexis and she served a year in prison. She’s a convicted felon. She lost everything, much the way Isabelle lost everything when Rosemary Hershey snatched it all away from her. Unfortunately, Alexis had to serve a year in prison. She can never get that year of her life back. As we all know, prison is not a nice place.
“In addition to Alexis’s incarceration, more tragedy followed. An elderly couple who were bilked by her employers committed suicide when they were stripped of their life savings. That monstrous pair targeted the elderly, many of whom were reduced to the poverty level. Alexis was made out to be an ogre who hated old people and showed no compassion when swindling them.
“When Alexis got out of prison, she went to see Nikki to ask if anything could be done, as Nikki’s firm does a lot of pro bono work. The best Nikki could do was get Alexis a new identity and a job outside her field. That pretty much brings us up to date. Now, it’s time for Alexis to tell us what she wants us to do by way of punishment for her previous employers.”
Alexis cleared her throat. “The first thing I want to say is, I had very poor legal representation. While I was in prison, and Myra is right, it is not a nice place, I plotted their deaths every single night. It was the only way I could go to sleep. I imagined slitting their throats, carving out their hearts, watching them drown, setting them on fire. Nothing would satisfy me. I don’t know why I thought killing them would make me feel better. I’m not a murderer but like I said, thinking like that got me through that year. Even now, the best thing I can come up with is that I want them in prison; behind bars. I want them to hear the door clang shut and know they can’t get out. I want them to suffer the way I suffered.”
Myra turned to Charles. “Tell us what you’ve come up with in regard to Alexis’s previous employers.”
Charles turned on one of the television monitors. “This,” he said, using his pointer, “is Arden Gillespie.” A picture of a beautiful woman dressed in designer wear and an elegant hairdo was smiling up at a tall, handsome, distinguished gentleman. “The man at her side is her partner, Roland Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan is married and has a son in college and a daughter who will graduate from high school in the spring. Mrs. Sullivan is a schoolteacher with a sterling reputation.