quit playing. Cosmo smiled indulgently as Lizzie steered him to the lounge, where, despite the early hour, she insisted a drink was in order to celebrate her win. While they waited for their drinks, Lizzie called Maggie and Ted on Nantucket.
On Nantucket Island, Maggie sighed with happiness as Ted rubbed her back with sunblock. She looked down at the vibrating cell phone and groaned when she saw that the call was from Lizzie. It had to be business. Maggie tripped right past the greeting, and said, “I just want you to know I’m lying on a glorious beach, the temperature is a wonderful seventy-eight degrees, the sun is shining, and Ted is rubbing my back with some sweet-smelling sunblock. I am drinking one of those frothy drinks with a little umbrella. I am relaxing. Are you calling to tell me you’re pregnant? If you are, I’ll put it on the front page. When I get back.”
“No, no, no, I’m not pregnant! I’m sorry to intrude on your short vacation, Maggie, but I thought you would want to know that Charles is back on the mountain. I don’t know any details. I’ll be back Sunday night. Let’s do breakfast Monday morning. By the way I just won $44,” Lizzie said happily.
Maggie rolled over as she closed her cell phone. She looked up at Ted and smiled. “Charles is back on the mountain. That was Lizzie on the phone. I wonder what it means, if anything. His being gone changed a lot of things, and I wonder how many of them, if any, will ever change back. I’m getting a feeling, Ted.”
Ted groaned as he sat up straighter. He’d learned the hard way never, ever, to ignore Maggie when she said she was “getting a feeling.” He immediately sent off a text message to Joe Espinosa in Baltimore, apprising him of the news and alerting him to the fact that Maggie was getting one of her feelings. Reporter-speak for get your ass back to D.C. as soon as you’re done in Baltimore.
Maggie rolled back over, irritated now that she had sand on her oiled back. “Ted, call Nellie and Elias while I call Jack.”
In Virginia, just as her cell phone rang, Nellie handed off the two-month-old baby, who’d left a wet spot on her dress the size of a dinner plate, to her jittery husband. Elias handed the squealing infant to his father, who in turn delivered him to his weary mother.
Dismayed at the giant wet spot on her silk dress, Nellie walked to the back of the church, then outside, where she took the call from Ted Robinson. “This better be good, Ted. I’m at Elias’s grandson’s christening, and the kid just peed all over me.”
“Charles is back on the mountain. The girls texted Lizzie, who called Maggie. We’re here on Nantucket and headed home tomorrow. Maggie just asked me to call you. When are you going home, Judge?”
“I think that might be a wonderful thing for the girls, especially Myra. At least I hope it will be, but she and Charles may have to start all over again. I know that she felt deserted, even though he told her that he had to stay behind in England. We’re leaving as soon as I can drag Elias out to the car. We drove,” she said inanely.
“Well, drive safely. We’ll catch up on everyone’s return,” Ted said.
Ted stretched out and rolled close to Maggie. He listened to her conversation, trying to get a bead on what Charles Martin’s return to the mountain would mean to all of them.
“That’s all I know, Jack. No details. Lizzie called, and she was more excited about winning $44 than Charles returning to the mountain. I wonder how happy Myra is with his return. We’re heading home Sunday morning. So, you’ll tell Harry, okay? I want to get back to soaking up this warm, delicious sun. It’s wonderful here, Jack. I hope you and Nikki get to come to Nantucket someday. Listen, Jack, Lizzie didn’t say anything about notifying Pearl Barnes, but I’m thinking she should be kept in the loop. Do it for me, big guy, and I will owe you. See you on Monday.”
Ted leaned over and whispered in Maggie’s ear the moment she ended her call to Jack. He waited to see what her response would be. When she said, “I’ve never had sex in the water. Okay, let’s go for it,” Ted was the first one in the water. The cold water. The really cold water. He looked at Maggie, who was shivering and watching him expectantly.
Maggie started to laugh when he shook his head. “We could fill the bathtub with warm water.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Maggie said, scampering out of the water, Ted hot on her heels.
Back in Washington, Jack jammed the cell phone into his pocket and started to jog his way back to the office. He hated running or jogging in leather shoes, but his sneakers were at Harry’s dojo. He was dripping wet with sweat when he blasted through the lobby and jogged in place for a moment before he made his way to the elevator.
In his office, he ripped off his jacket and tie and sat down. Slightly winded, he let loose with a mighty sigh as he unpacked his briefcase, his thoughts on Nikki, the mountain, Charles, and wondering where the hell Harry was. He’d been text messaging and calling him every chance he got, all day, with no response. He knew Harry had a midmorning training class at Quantico, and they were to meet up at the Drop Zone for lunch. But Harry hadn’t shown for lunch. Jack was getting really concerned because Harry always answered his phone. Always. And the fine hairs on the back of Jack’s neck had started to prickle. Somewhere, something was wrong.
Jack sorted, sifted, and collated the papers in his briefcase before he bellowed for his secretary and the two assistant DAs. “Court’s dark tomorrow. I’ll see you when I see you. Be sure to get those papers to Judge Avalone before five-thirty. Chop-chop, guys. You, too, Melinda.” He got snorts of disgust and grimaces that he ignored. “It’s all about delegating, guys. That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” A roll of rubber bands in the shape of a ball hit him squarely in the back of the head.
Jack laughed as he made his way back to the elevator, his jacket slung over his shoulder, his tie trailing out of a side pocket.
In the parking lot, he popped the trunk and tossed in both his jacket and briefcase.
The inside of his car was like a sauna. He turned on the AC to HIGH and then slipped in a favorite Harry Connick, Jr. CD. Sweat dripped down Jack’s face. He swiped at it with the sleeve of his shirt. He tooled along, his eyes on the road, hoping to see Harry on his Ducati, but it didn’t happen.
Traffic was surprisingly light for a Friday afternoon, when usually a lot of people headed out of the city to cooler pastures, so Jack made decent time to Harry’s dojo just as the AC kicked in, and he started to shiver.
Jack turned the corner and slowed, his eyes almost bugging out of his head at the sight of the yellow CAUTION tape stretched across the dojo’s front door. What made him slam on his brakes was the sight of Harry sitting on the curb in his Armani suit, barefooted. His shoes were next to him there alongside the Ducati. He didn’t even look up at the sound of Jack’s squealing brakes. Jack slammed out of the car the moment he swerved the curb. He looked around for a sign of smoke that would mean the CAUTION tape was up because of a fire. No smoke. Christ, maybe Harry finally killed someone. Nah, he’d be in jail if he’d done that, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting on the curb in his Armani suit.
“Harry! What the hell is going on? Harry, look at me! Goddamn it, what the hell is going on? Why are you sitting here all duded up in that fancy suit? Are you going to answer me, or do I have to knock you on your ass?” Jack yelled, his heart beating trip-hammer fast. When there was no smart-ass response, Jack dropped to his haunches and poked at Harry’s chest. “At least you’re not dead. You had me worried there for a minute. Talk to me, Harry. It’s me, Jack. Come on, buddy, let’s hear it.”
Harry finally looked at Jack, his
