Free Hokus Pokus by Fern Michaels Page A

Maggie drank it by the gallon. Did she go to a hotel or to a friend’s house? Maybe she was bunking with her brunch partner, Lizzie Fox. The name alone left a bad taste in his mouth. It really rankled him that Maggie would rather have lunch with the glamorous attorney than with him. Especially since they usually spent Sundays together unless Maggie had plans. Lately, she always seemed to have plans, now that he thought about it.
    Where the hell was she? Ted sat down on one of the kitchen chairs as he tried to figure out where Maggie might have gone. For the most part, she guarded her personal privacy. He knew he had embarrassed her at Wintergreen’s, which didn’t say much for the kind of person he was. No, Maggie wouldn’t go to Lizzie, she’d be too humiliated. Maggie was thrifty, she wouldn’t want to spring for a hotel room unless she could put it on her expense account.
    Suddenly, Ted’s eyes narrowed. Expense account. The Post . The corporate apartment. Yeah, yeah, that’s the way she would have gone. Every reporter at the paper had a key. Hell, he even had one. Where was it? The kitchen drawer. He yanked at the drawer, found the key on a red string. Well, so what?
    If he went to the apartment Maggie would probably kill him or at the very least, cripple him. Assuming he was right and that’s where she’d gone. Well, there was only one way to find out.
    Ted was out the door in minutes and in a cab. “Dupont Circle. I’ll let you know where to let me out. Just drive.”
    He needed a plan. Jack Emery always said a guy needed a plan when it came to women. Like he was going to believe anything that asshole said. Everyone knew plans never worked.
    Fifteen minutes later, Ted tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Let me off at the corner.”
    Ted’s heart thumped in his chest as he tried to convince himself he just wanted to make sure Maggie was okay. And maybe to apologize. He walked along, barely noticing the warm spring evening. Not many people were out and about, probably because everyone was home getting ready for the workday tomorrow. Normally he and Maggie watched old movies on Sunday night just like an old married couple.
    He stopped in front of the building, hesitated for a bare moment, and then went indoors and rode the elevator to the sixth floor. He found the apartment, knocked loudly three times. When there was no response, he pulled the red string from his pocket and fit the key in the lock. He called Maggie’s name several times as he made his way around the small apartment. He saw her suitcases in the bedroom and her backpack in the kitchen. He told himself she probably just stepped out to get something to eat because she never, as in never, went anywhere without her backpack. Which begged the question, should he look inside it?
    Ted fought with himself as he weighed the consequences if he did just that. Well, he was a reporter, it was his job to investigate such things. Without a moment’s hesitation, he opened the backpack and pulled out the thick wad of papers. He whirled around to look for a printer. There it was on the kitchen counter. An old one that could have passed for a breadbox. He blinked when he saw the name on the stack of printouts. Tyler Hughes, Justice Barnes’s ex–son-in-law. So his instinct was right. He folded the papers and jammed them into the back of his pants under his windbreaker.
    Ted continued to paw through Maggie’s belongings. He pulled out a cell phone and looked at it. He had noticed a cell phone next to the laptop. Why the hell did she need two cell phones? Well damn, this was like no other cell phone he’d ever seen . . .
    The fine hairs on the back of Ted’s neck stirred. Instinct warned him to get out of the apartment. He dropped the mysterious-looking cell phone into the pocket of his Windbreaker before racing to the front door. He opened the door a crack to peer up and down the hallway,