I expect we’ll know more later. Having said that, someone had better come up with a menu that three strapping men will like.”
“What’s going on? Are we going to be planning a mission? Does someone need our help?” Alexis asked, her dark eyes shining with excitement.
“Yes and yes. And it came through Mr. Cricket in Las Vegas, who more or less turned it over to Lizzie, who then got in touch with Maggie and Jack early this morning, at which point Jack brought Harry and Bert into it. I don’t have too many details but Maggie said we are absolutely going to LOVE this mission.”
“That’s it? That’s all she said? Come on, Annie, I know Maggie told you more than that,” Nikki said.
Satisfied that she had everyone’s attention, Annie leaned toward the table. “Well, she did say a wee bit more.”
Suddenly Myra was on her feet and standing behind Annie’s chair. “And that wee bit more would be what?” she asked, wrapping her hands around Annie’s throat.
“The new president wants our help because her brand-new administration is full of guys who like to hire hookers. Something about the Happy Day Camp outside Vegas, which is a brothel!” Annie gasped.
“Oh, good Lord,” Myra said, making her way to her chair where she sat down with a loud thump.
“Madams and johns?” Kathryn asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“Right down to camp counselors, and I will leave it to your imagination as to who those beautiful, long-legged ‘counselors’ were. The camp boys are members of the administration, congressmen, senators, a couple of ambassadors. Name it, and they all went to camp. Not once, but twice!” Annie said happily as she looked around at the shocked faces of her Sisters.
“How long have you known about this?” Myra asked ominously.
“Just never you mind, Myra Rutledge. You were so busy feeling sorry for yourself, you didn’t deserve to know. Now that you’re back among the living, it’s okay for you to get the whole scoop,” Annie said imperiously. “We need to start making a plan.”
“What did you mean when you said the prez wants our help?” Nikki asked.
“Lizzie turned her down. Reminded her that she was running a debit where we’re concerned. I’m not absolutely sure about this, but I think the president wanted us to help the Happy Campers. The men!” Annie said, her disgust apparent in her voice.
“When pigs fly,” Kathryn snapped. “I vote no on that, but I’m willing to go after them. I guess the president’s plan as it now stands would be to pin it on the madam and let the campers off the hook. Not!”
Nikki nervously tapped her fingers on the table, her brow furrowed. “If we don’t help the president, what will that do to the pardon she promised?” she asked.
Annie shook her head. “I don’t know. For her even to ask is something I’m having trouble comprehending. From what Maggie said, Lizzie set her straight.”
“I remember reading about the D.C. Madam last year,” Yoko said. “She died not too long ago. There seemed to be a good deal of speculation that she might not have committed suicide, which was the story they put out there. I do not recall reading anything after that about her…uh…clients.”
Kathryn scoffed. “Those creeps always walk away. The worst thing they have to deal with is their spouses. They don’t care what their families have to go through. So they get divorces and move on to the next set of bimbos. What’s wrong with this picture?”
“Does that mean the madam is going to be our client?” Myra asked.
“Noooo, Myra, I don’t think so. I think this is a freebie on our part. I’m all for it if that’s the way it turns out. We have more than enough of a balance in our trust account for a freebie,” Annie said.
“Then who is the client?” Isabelle asked.
“No client. We’re just going to avenge the madam and make the men pay. If the madam turns out to be Lizzie’s client, she’s in good hands. Why should the madam swing in the wind while those damn guys walk away with no jail time? The madam is the one who will get sentenced. Look, I’m not saying I approve of prostitution because I don’t, even if it’s legal in Nevada and is the oldest profession in the world. I think when we see the list, and I do believe there is a list of the madam’s clients, we’ll make the decision to do whatever we decide based on all the families that are involved, possibly ruined, by men who couldn’t keep their pants zipped. Let’s see a show of hands if you agree with me or not.”
Every hand shot in the air.
“That makes it unanimous,” Annie said happily.
“That’s it! You don’t know anything else?” asked Myra.
“No, I don’t. I’m sure by tomorrow we’ll know all we need to know. We can’t do anything anyway until we have the list. For now, we need to clean up from dinner, then we have to shovel snow from the cable car to the door, so let’s get the menu thing wrapped up. There will be no more stuff dumped in one pot and called ‘hash.’ We have a fully stocked freezer and larder. I want to see menus. Like now!”
The Sisters fell to it as they squabbled about what vegetable went with what meat and which wine was the one Charles would have served. It took an hour before everyone agreed to a week’s worth of menus that passed with Annie’s and Myra’s approval.
“What’s for dinner tomorrow with our guests?” Kathryn asked.
Nikki looked down at all the scribbling on her legal pad. “Leg of lamb, mint jelly, little potatoes, gravy, pearl onions with the last of our snap peas, butter biscuits, salad, and a peach cobbler. We have two wines, a red and a white, that will work. Before anyone can ask, I’m cooking tomorrow, and I am not cleaning up.”
“I’ll clean up,” Kathryn said.
The others said they would pitch in.
The Sisters were unified once again. Annie realized that it felt good.
Annie nodded in Myra’s direction. She was happy to see that Myra’s eyes were clear and focused. Her expression clearly said that the two of them were back on track. Annie nodded to show she understood and accepted Myra’s silent apology.
“Close the door, guys,” Maggie said to her star reporter and lover, Ted Robinson, and her star photographer, Joe Espinosa.
As a rule Maggie did business with her door wide-open. Everyone on the floor knew that when the door was closed it was worth their lives even to speculate as to what was going on behind it.
“This must be important since it’s quitting time,” Ted said as he tried to gauge Maggie’s mood.
“About as important as it gets. We have a live one this time. I can tell you what I know, but I can’t give you names. Yet. Listen up.”
Maggie was like a runaway horse until she wound down and looked at her two primo employees. “I know this is a second Pulitzer. I can feel it. I can smell it. Hell, I own it! So, make me a promise, guys.”
Both men looked at Maggie, and
