Free Vanishing Act by Fern Michaels Page B

e-mails were all downloaded. He was good to go. He looked down on the right side of his computer terminal to see the thick report that had come in from Maggie Spritzer early yesterday. Whoever her source was, he or she was good, just as good as his own hacker. He felt the nerves in his stomach jump. Maybe the girls were right, with contacts like Maggie had, did they really need him?
    A blue folder with a gold star in the middle set his teeth on edge. Annie had gone ahead and purchased the Babylon casino with Lizzie Fox’s help. A done deal, and he’d had no input. Lizzie had made sure everything was buried
deep.
He had to be honest: it was possible Lizzie had outshone his own people. And now she was married to Cosmo Cricket, and he hadn’t even been in the country for them.
    His eyes started to burn. Would Lizzie take the job Martine Connor offered as chief White House counsel? He should know the answer to that question, but he didn’t. He didn’t know the answer because until three days ago he had been out of the loop, an outsider. There was so much he didn’t know about the Sisters anymore, and there had been no time to be fully briefed, to read all the reports and notes the girls had kept in his absence. He needed more hours in the day, less sleep. What bothered him the most was where his old pal Avery Snowden had deviated from the plan and taken Myra and Annie somewhere at the end of the last mission. In the report he’d read it simply said, “ NTK .” Need to know. It was obvious even the girls didn’t know where Annie and Myra had gone on their detour. Snowden, when questioned, had simply refused to answer the question. And that had been the end of that.
    With years of long practice, Charles sifted through the faxes and printed e-mails. Those that were crucial went into one pile, those that needed attention but not immediately went into another pile. Those with tidbits of information went into a third stack.
    Fifteen minutes later, Charles thought he had the initial elements of a plan. He made call after call, cryptic messages were left and recorded. He pressed a button, and the plasma screens sprang to life. He wished, as he always did, that Lady Justice would remove her blindfold, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
    Charles reached for a stack of bright yellow folders and proceeded to fill them with stapled reports. Stepping down from his dais, he was meticulous as he placed the folders in front of each chair at the round table. His job for the moment was done.
    His eyes were drawn to Maggie Spritzer’s blue folder. Annie had been so right when she appointed Maggie editor-in-chief of the
Post
. He allowed a small smile to tug at his lips when he recalled how he’d almost gone ballistic when he found out Annie wanted to buy the newspaper. A smart move. More than smart; brilliant. He’d had misgivings about Spritzer, Ted Robinson, and Joe Espinosa, but those had turned out to be unfounded. All three had performed beyond his expectations. No regrets there. And he had no regrets where Bert Navarro was concerned. He still wasn’t sure about the liaisons the girls had formed with the newest members. It seemed everyone had someone to lighten and brighten their lives. Nikki and Jack. Yoko and Harry, Kathryn and Bert, Alexis and Joe Espinosa, Maggie and Ted, Annie and Little Fish. Isabelle was the odd woman out, but he was sure that would change sometime soon. At the moment Isabelle had the company of Myra. Myra, dear Myra. He couldn’t think about Myra just then and what the future held for the two of them or—more to the point—whether they even had a future together.
    Charles looked at his watch. Five more minutes before the girls would appear to take their seats. Five minutes until they looked up at him expecting a miracle that would turn Harry Wong’s life right-side up. For the first time in his life, he wondered if he could make the desired result happen.
    Charles’s gaze went to the wall of