when he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the uppermost black book. Curious, he pulled it out and read a signed statement giving him permission to use the records as he saw fit to help bring the johns to justice. After he returned the paper to its place in the top book, he closed the safe and moved the minibar back into position. Waving to Mickey, Cosmo turned off the lights, locked the door, and departed. He was still laughing when he climbed into his Porsche for the long ride out to the desert. He hummed an old Fleetwood Mac ditty as he tooled along, marveling at what a small world it was.
Chapter 2
It wasn’t your ordinary retirement party, with laughter and balloons and bubbly gushing out of a fountain. Judges for some reason thought their parties should be bland, boring, and sedate. Perhaps it had something to do with this judge’s age, which was seventy-seven. Maybe Big Foot, as Judge Paul Leland was affectionately called in the cloakrooms, didn’t know how to have fun. Although, given his current wife, who was thirty years his junior, one wouldn’t have thought so. On the other hand, maybe the poor old dear was just worn-out, thanks to his social-climbing young consort.
Lizzie hated these command performances. Soggy canapés, less than satisfactory wine, not even champagne, and no music to speak of. She refused to acknowledge the violin player who circled the room doing his best to annoy people. She glanced down at her watch and wondered if it was late enough to make her excuses and head for home. Three hours of torture was her limit. It was coming up to ten o’clock, time for this party to end, for her at least. She looked around to see if anyone else was getting ready to leave. Maybe she could start a trend. She really wanted to get home so she could talk to Cosmo. All day she had looked forward to her glass of wine and the phone call. After talking to him, she’d fall into bed with a smile on her face. God, how she loved the man with the funny name.
All eyes were on Lizzie as she made her way through the crowd to reach the judge, who was surrounded by a sea of white hair and bald heads, men and women as old as he. A little while ago she’d seen the young wife guzzling wine with a tall, buff lawyer who was married but cheated like crazy. All the younger lawyers clustered together at the far end of the room, the not-so-old judges at the other end of the room waiting to be excused or for a bomb to drop so they could leave. She was surprised no one had pulled the fire alarm to clear the room.
The sea of white moved in tandem as the geriatric crowd parted for Lizzie to move closer to Judge Leland. Every eye was on the black sheath she wore like a second skin, on the stiletto heels that allowed her to tower over the man she was congratulating. No one missed the outrageous five-carat diamond Cosmo had slipped on her finger three months ago and which sparkled on her left hand; nor did they miss the three-carat diamonds winking and glimmering in each ear under the bright fluorescent lights, another present from Cosmo. The untamed mane of silvery hair tumbling down her back and around her shoulders looked like spun silver.
And then she was in front of the judge, every ear tuned to the conversation. “I’m so sorry, Judge Leland, but I have to leave this enchanting party because I need to double-check a motion I want to file in the morning. I hope you have a wonderful retirement and don’t miss all of us too much.”
The judge’s voice was raspy and yet frail-sounding when he said, “Ah, Miss Fox, I will sorely miss listening to your outstanding oratory in the courtroom. My wife always quizzed me on your fashionable attire when I got home. Thank you so much for coming this evening to help me celebrate my retirement. I’ll look forward to reading about your courtroom dramas in the days to come, as opposed to witnessing them firsthand.”
Lizzie laughed, that tinkling sound she was famous for. She bent down and, to the amazement of just about everyone in the room, kissed the judge soundly on the cheek. She smiled, and the room grew brighter as she waited for the sea of white heads to part once again. Two minutes later she was out of the room and headed for the checkroom to retrieve her cashmere coat. But maybe she needed to visit the restroom first.
Inside the elegant restroom, she met three colleagues she knew quite well. They were whispering among themselves. “Okay, ladies, it’s safe to leave. I paved the way for all of us to call it a night,” Lizzie said.
“There is a God,” one of the lawyers said dramatically. “Lizzie, have you heard?”
“Heard what?” Lizzie asked curiously as she headed to the far stall.
The three women as one moved down the length of the vanity and all of them started talking at once.
Lizzie exited the stall and started to wash her hands. She had trouble keeping up with what she was hearing.
“Biggest scandal since…God, I don’t know when.” “Practically the whole damn cabinet…even some of the Secret Service…try the vice prez…jeez, what’s this all going to do to Martine Connor’s new administration?” “Congress and the Senate…more than you can shake a stick at.”
Lizzie was about to weigh in with a dozen questions when the door opened and a gaggle of women entered the room. All conversation among the lawyers screeched to a halt. Lizzie rolled her eyes as she held the door for the others.
Lizzie retrieved her long white cashmere coat, slipped into it, and almost ran to the exit. She handed the valet her ticket and waited for her brand-new Porsche to be brought to where she was standing. Her head buzzed with what she’d heard and what she hadn’t heard. Imagination was a powerful thing.
Her car roared to a stop. For some reason, Porsches driven by anyone other than their owners always seemed to roar. Lizzie slipped a ten-dollar bill into the valet’s hand and slid behind the wheel. The powerful car purred and growled to life as she raced down the circular road that would lead her to the main highway. Another scandal in Washington. What else was new? She didn’t want to think about scandals, she wanted to think about Cosmo Cricket and the coming weekend when she would fly out to see him.
Five hours later, Lizzie rolled over on her lavender-scented sheets as she struggled to figure out what had woken her. The phone, of course. She squinted at the clock on the nightstand. The large red numerals said it was 2:59. No one called her at this hour unless it was a dire emergency. Her first thought was Cosmo, but she discarded that thought immediately. He’d said he was going straight to bed when they hung up from their call, and she had done the same thing. One of the Sisters? Surely nothing was happening on the mountain that couldn’t wait till morning. The caller I.D. said PRIVATE CALLER. Did she even want to take the call? No. She rolled back over, sniffed her pillowcase, and settled down to go back to sleep when the phone rang again. Damn. She rolled back over and picked up the phone. “This better be really, really good because it’s three o’clock in the morning, and I was sound asleep.” Lizzie didn’t care who was listening to her tirade.
“Lizzie, it’s Martine Connor. I am sorry to wake you, truly I am, but I do not have a minute to myself these days. This is the only time I can call you. I need to talk to you, Lizzie.”
“Madam President,” Lizzie said, bolting upright and swinging her legs over the side of the bed at the same time. “Is this how we’re going to chat from time to time? Is something wrong?”
“First things first, cut out that ‘Madam President’ stuff. You only have to call me Madam President if the press is around. No, we are not going to chat in the middle of the night. No, I take that back, yes, that’s about the only time we can talk. I can’t sleep in this job. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I moved into this damn place. I used to sleep like a baby and, yes, something is wrong. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten wind of it all, even though they’re trying to put a lid on it. You know whenever they do that, an explosion always follows.”
Lizzie’s
