Ginger snaps, p.30
Ginger Snaps, page 30
“of course,” she said easily. “off the record” had gone out with vinyl.
“If I’m right, next Wednesday you’ll be the only television reporter
in the courtroom to cover the biggest story to hit the news in a very
long time.”
Her eyes widened. “okay. I’ll bite. Why me? Why aren’t you going
to Katie or Diane? let’s be honest, I can’t be one of your favorites.”
“Because any hint that the big-time press knows what this is about,
and the story is blown. You’re high enough profile to excite Dub, but
not big enough to send up a warning signal to the people pulling his
strings.”
She didn’t like the answer, though she knew it was true.
“Don’t be offended, Cheryl. If you pull your part off, you’ll out-
score both 60 Minutes and World News Tonight, or whatever it’s called.”
I had her interest now.
“one last thing. Getting close to Dub can be extremely dangerous.”
“oh, come on, I’ve dealt with men far more dangerous than Dub
Blanchard.”
“Hear me out. Since we’re off the record, and since I think you
should know, someone kidnapped Micki, then me, and tried to kill us
both. I got lucky. Micki’s in bad shape, still recovering.”
Now Cheryl’s eyes practically bulged. She ordered her third
bourbon. “You want me to believe a U.S. attorney is behind all this?
Dub doesn’t have the balls. He’s a fucking weasel.”
“You’re right about that. No, this is way above Dub’s pay grade. I
think he was chosen to be the front man because he happens to be the
U.S. attorney for the district and he’s got skeletons in his closet. No,
he’s not calling the shots. I warn you because he does have a reputa-
tion when it comes to women. The more I think about this, it’s unfair
to ask you to get involved. I’m sorry. I promise to let you in on it when
it’s over.” I might as well have waved a red flag at a bull.
Cheryl grabbed my wrist, practically panting. “No, you don’t, Jack
Patterson. I’m a big girl. Tell me whatever you can. I’m not as dumb as
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I look, you know. I smell a story, a career-making story. Don’t tease me.”
She nursed her bourbon and listened as I told her how to play
the part. She had her own ideas, and we finished with a pretty good
game plan.
I asked. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”
“If you mean the bourbon, I know my limit. You’d be surprised how
many talk show hosts have more than water in those coffee cups.” She
smiled. “Tell me, Jack, how come you and I’ve never gotten together?”
“I was married, and you were married to my best friend—two very
good reasons.”
“Not for me,” she laughed.
“I know, but for me they were both game stoppers.”
“What about now? Angie, God rest her soul is gone, and I’m
divorced.”
“Not that any sane man wouldn’t be interested, but you’re still the
former wife of my best friend, who’s still in love with you—again, a
game stopper.”
“Jack Patterson, loyal to the core. You’ll never change, but I’ll tell
you one thing—you are missing out.”
“That I’m sure of, Cheryl. That I’m sure of.” I raised my glass in a toast
wondering who her guests were tonight. Boy, were they in for a hot time.
“I’ll call Dub tomorrow morning and we’ll go from there. I’ve got a
feeling I just joined a gang of thieves.”
In a sense, she could be right. I hoped so.
The skies were ominous, big thunderheads building up in virginia,
but Maggie was determined we should have dinner at the lebanese
Taverna in Bethesda, not far from my house—wonderful lebanese
food and great service. Clovis and Maggie were fascinated by my con-
versation with Cheryl, although Maggie wasn’t happy with how I had
roped her in. It was getting to be a bad habit, inviting others to put
themselves in danger.
We stayed away from business, other than discussing plans to go
back to little Rock via Memphis in a few days. Walter wouldn’t come
down until the Tuesday before the auction, bringing the letter of
credit with him.
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Declining dessert, Walter rose to help Maggie with her jacket. “Well,
Jack, we need a little luck, but you know what: I’m looking forward to
the fireworks.”
Clovis and I decided to indulge in a glass of port, not quite ready
to call it a night.
“Maggie is right about Cheryl. I do worry about involving her.”
“You should. You and Micki are lucky to be alive. Micki’s office was
bugged, and all our computers were hacked, including the Founda-
tion’s and Bridgeport’s. Your foundation is under audit, and Walter’s
companies are being investigated. To top it off, whoever is behind all
this sent an international assassin to Arkansas, just in case somebody
got wind of their plans. I wouldn’t say you’re overly cautious. Maybe
in over your head, but definitely not overly cautious.”
I chuckled. “In over my head is hardly an adequate description.”
The storm broke with a flash of lightening and a torrent of rain just
before we climbed into the rented Suburban. Waiting until we had
shaken the water off, our driver said calmly. “You guys have company.
Those two followed you into the restaurant and now have followed
you out. Want me to lose them?” He pointed to two other guys hastily
climbing into an old Subaru.
Clovis answered. “No, just get us home. Better have somebody
watch the house.”
He turned to me. “I’ll be glad to get back to Arkansas. I can spot a
stranger there, but I’m useless in DC.”
“Hardly useless, but otherwise you’re right. I never thought I’d
look forward to returning to little Rock, but I do. I’m ready to play
our hand, see if we can pull this thing off. I’m not optimistic—they
haven’t made many mistakes, and we’re up against overwhelming
resources. But we do have surprise on our side. That’s got to count
for something.”
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FRIdAy MoRNING
May 2, 2014
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The alarm clock read four o’clock when I woke from a nightmare
about Moira wielding a branding iron. I wanted nothing more than
to fall back to sleep, but the prospect of another bad dream got me
out of bed and into the shower. I relaxed for an extra-long time, let-
ting the warm water loosen the knots from wounds old and new. I also
began to rehearse my role in the upcoming auction.
I thought about how little evidence I’d been able to pin down. The
rest of the week had been wasted on “sorry, I can’t help you” and what
seemed to be an avalanche of regulators descending on the founda-
tion. So, I had to gamble on flushing my quarry rather than having
the goods beforehand. I dressed for a day of travel, walked downstairs
quietly, and made coffee.
I wasn’t much of a cook, but I knew how to make a good breakfast.
I pulled my grandmother’s cast-iron skillet out from a bottom drawer
and put the sausage on to fry. I found some frozen biscuits made by
a little country store outside of Middleburg, virginia and popped
them in the oven. As soon as the sausage was cooked, I added milk,
flour, and seasonings to the drippings, stirring constantly until my
gravy was the perfect consistency. My grandmother used to tell me
you had to listen to the scraping sound of the wooden spoon against
the pan—that’s how you knew the gravy was done. Wasn’t long before
Clovis came down. He drank his coffee in companionable silence,
watching as I turned my attention to the eggs and to setting the table
for our feast.
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“What’s the occasion?” he asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You know, I left little Rock a long time ago, didn’t think I’d ever
come back. Now I’ve been there twice in as many years. And twice
someone has tried to kill me. But thanks to you, I’m still alive. If his-
tory repeats itself, I figure this breakfast may be my last. So since I
couldn’t sleep, I decided to make us a good one.”
We didn’t talk much over breakfast. Clovis offered to clear and
clean while I packed. I’d be gone for at least a week and would need
court clothes. Angie had always checked my bag when we traveled.
The right tie, the right shoes—now I felt good if I my socks matched.
We reached National without a hitch, found Maggie, and were in
the air quickly. liz was meeting us for lunch at the Peabody.
“Sleep well last night, Maggie?” I asked.
“Not really. When Walter’s worried he tosses and turns. When
Walter worries, we all should.”
“Anything I don’t already know?”
“I think more than anything, he’s worried about Moira. He thinks
the money is a good investment, but he doesn’t think Moira will walk
away from unfinished business. He said, ‘Jack’s got a big sign on his
back telling the world Moira failed. If she wants to stay in her game,
she’s coming back.’”
Clovis had been listening. “For sure.”
“Well, as you know I’ve had similar thoughts, but either she’s
coming or she isn’t. I can’t cancel her contract, and, well, it doesn’t
do any good to think about it.”
one of liz’s bodyguards met us at the airport and drove us to the
Peabody. She was waiting for us in the lobby Bar and insisted breezily
that we all have a drink. This time I held my ground and led her to our
table where a waiter handed her a tall iced tea. I’d had about enough
of her split personality. I told her what we’d found out regarding the
letter and what little we knew about the government’s reaction.
“Doug wondered why he never got a response from anyone, but
decided not to push the issue. He figured the longer the government
was willing to let him work in peace, the more he could accomplish.
“I thought as much. Actually, the summary he prepared caused
some real excitement, but not in the way Doug hoped.
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“So what happens on Wednesday?” she asked, looking glumly at
her iced tea.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “We’re so close—I can almost feel it.
But I don’t have any hard evidence yet. I hope the auction process
will smoke out the bad guys, providing us with exactly that evidence
we need.”
“I hope it works, but it would be a lot more fun if Doug were here,”
she plunked her glass down irritably. “Maggie, how can you drink this
stuff? Somebody get me a margarita!” The entire room turned to stare.
I tried to contain my rising irritation—with liz, with Doug, with the
whole mess. Antitrust lawyers seldom have to deal with overwrought
and devious wives. I took a deep breath.
“look, liz, if Doug were here, everything would be different. But
he’s not here, and I can’t change that fact. Right now I have no idea
when or if any of us will see him again. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but
the fact is that we, and that means you, have got to move forward with
that realization.”
Now she had tears in her eyes. I felt like a lousy bastard, but kept
going.
“I’m sure Dub and Bullock have taken the position that Doug’s
patent applications are part of the property to be auctioned. If
someone can obtain his patents legally, he’ll never be able to open
source his research—even when he does get out of prison. And they
intend for him to be there a very long time.”
“Bastards,” liz murmured into her drink.
“liz, wake up, it’s time to get serious. I want you to come to little
Rock on Tuesday afternoon. You can stay with us at Micki’s ranch. I’ll
feel better when we’re all together.”
“I am quite awake and quite serious. I get the picture. You don’t
need to shove it down my throat.” She took a healthy swallow of the
margarita that had quickly arrived, chasing it with a deep sigh.
“okay, liz. Are you ready to hear the plan? In a way it’s a crapshoot,
but I want you to know everything.”
“No! I don’t want to know a thing!”
Maggie was incredulous. “Why on earth not?”
“Because I can honestly say I don’t know—that it’s all in your hands.
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It’s safer that way. If the bastards think I know your plans, they could
go after my father. People have been coming out of the woodwork to
see Dad and renew my acquaintance. I can’t tell you how many old
boyfriends have shown up in the last week. It was flattering at first, but
I figured out pretty quickly that most of them were trying to pump
me for information. You should see their faces when I say in my best
Scarlett o’Hara, ‘I don’t know a thing. Doug’s lawyers are keeping me
completely in the dark.’
“I want to see it unfold on Wednesday; knowing the plan in advance
would be a mistake. Doug and I trust you. You say it’s a crapshoot—
well, so did Doug when he decided to take this course a long time
ago. everybody says they want a cure for cancer, but they want it on
their terms. Jack, do your best, be safe, and I don’t give a shit if we lose
everything. Just get Doug back.”
liz dressed like a floozy, acted and talked like she didn’t have a
clue, and was completely irritating most of the time. Whenever I was
ready to wash my hands of her for good, out came the real liz.
We were ready to leave, but liz said she wanted to stay for a while
and watch the famous ducks. Why people get such a kick out of
watching trained waterfowl march in and out of a pond is beyond me.
Clovis grumbled. Without missing a beat, she morphed back into the
old liz.
“Clovis, you sure you don’t want to stay in Memphis for a couple of
days?”
Clovis rushed through the revolving doors, ignoring liz completely.
She was still laughing when Maggie and I left.
As we drove to the airport, Maggie mused. “liz baffles me, and she
certainly has Clovis’s number. one minute she’s a total tramp and the
next minute, she’s a lovely, loyal woman. I wonder what makes her
tick.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s Doug. The rest is for show and to
shock, a form of self-protection, I think. Her love for him is the con-
stant. He’s a lucky man. But if I ever do get to speak with him again,
I’d like to know why he puts up with her shenanigans.”
Clovis gave himself a little shake. “Just keep her away from me.”
I tried to keep a straight face.
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I used the short flight to little Rock to go over the notes I’d made
earlier. After an uneventful and smooth landing, we drove directly
to Micki’s ranch. Nestled on more than two hundred acres of pas-
ture bisected by a slow, lazy creek, it’s hard to believe her home is
only fifteen minutes outside of little Rock proper. It had been exten-
sively remodeled by the previous owner, and now the 70’s style ranch
consisted of open spaces, a big stone fireplace, and a large country
kitchen, surrounded by enough bedrooms for all of us. Micki had just
bought it when we were here last year. Now she’d given it her own
character, using pottery and art by local artists to enhance her casual,
comfortable furniture. Debbie, Paul, and Micki were there to greet us.
I kissed Micki gently on the cheek.
She whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.” My jaw dropped and
she laughed. “Just kidding, eric will be here tonight. He insists. I can’t
imagine why.”
She was clearly on the road to recovery.
After we unloaded the car and settled our luggage, we gathered in
her welcoming living room. She was curled up in an oversized chair,
wrapped in an enormous quilt, looking uncomfortable. I said exactly
