Free Hokus Pokus by Fern Michaels Page B

he closed and locked the door, and ran to the EXIT sign to take the stairs to the lobby. When he reached the door that led to the lobby he opted to take the stairs to the basement level. All thoughts of apologizing to Maggie for his behavior in Wintergreen’s were forgotten. Now all he wanted was to get back to his own apartment to go over what he’d just stolen.
    â€œNow, Jack, that’s a plan,” Ted chortled as he made his way down the street, his head down, a grim smile on his face.

Chapter 7
    J ack Emery clicked the remote control to change television channels. He’d already gone through all the cable shows and there was nothing of interest, so now all he had left were the three prime networks. Another reason to hate Sundays. Maybe he should have another beer and pack it in for the day. He looked down at the coffee table in front of him where the special phone rested—when it was out of his pocket, it was never out of sight. When it rang, which wasn’t all that often, it was usually Nikki. She hadn’t called yet today, so maybe he shouldn’t go to bed just yet. The beer, though, was definitely needed. He got up, gave his pajama bottoms a hitch as he trotted out to the kitchen.
    It was times like this, when he was alone with his thoughts, that the enormity of his situation and his commitment to Nikki and the others hit him like a sledgehammer. He was a district attorney for Christ’s sake, sworn to uphold the law, and he had tossed all that aside and went at it full bore. What was that saying, fools go where angels fear to tread? Well, he was no fool and he sure as hell was no angel, so what the hell was he? A stupid, dumb schmuck seemed an appropriate title.
    Jack was twisting the cap off a long-neck when the front doorbell shrilled to life. He looked over at the clock on the stove. Nine o’clock. No one came here on a Sunday night at nine o’clock. Harry was the only one, aside from Mark Lane, who ever visited him at Nikki’s house, and he knew for a fact that Mark was in New York. He’d spoken to Harry a half hour ago and he said he was going home to bed. For sure Ted Robinson wouldn’t be visiting. Then who? Go to the door, stupid, and see who it is.
    Jack looked through the peephole just as the bell shrilled again. He blinked. Maggie Spritzer! And she was dancing from one foot to the other. She probably had to go to the bathroom. He opened the door and stared at her. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”
    â€œHuh? What? Why should I care where your bathroom is?” Maggie brushed past him. Even from where he was standing he could tell the reporter was twitching from head to toe.
    â€œThe way you were jiggling around out there I thought you had to use the facility. What the hell are you doing here, Maggie? Reporters visiting district attorneys is not a good thing. I hope you’re here to tell me your boyfriend got hit by a Post delivery truck and has amnesia. Tell me that’s why you’re here. Want a beer?”
    â€œNo. Yeah, yeah, give me a beer. No such luck on Ted getting hit by a Post truck and getting amnesia. If I thought that would work, I’d give it a shot myself.”
    Jack handed over a long-neck and waited until Maggie took a healthy swig before he asked again why she was visiting.
    Maggie squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I moved into the Post condo that they keep for VIP interviews. While I was out to get some dinner someone broke in and took all my printouts on Tyler Hughes. And . . . And they stole the encrypted phone. I almost had a heart attack. I didn’t know where else to go. I thought about going to Lizzie but figured you were the best person. I’m sorry, Jack.”
    â€œSon of a bitch! Who knew you were staying there?”
    â€œNo one. Well, my boss, he gave me the key. The lock wasn’t tampered with so it had to be someone who had a key. I was only gone about two