tossed her head back and laughed. “Stop playing.”
“I’m very serious. There are about thirty women who are part of the Cartel—in the New York chapter. For those outside of the circle they believe we are no more than a group of women who sell skin-care and body products. No one ever suspects us, that’s why we’re so successful at what we do.”
Maybe her mother was getting senile, Savannah thought as she drove and listened to the absurd story. She’d seen her mother’s case of bath and beauty products hundreds of times. Now she expected her to think it was all part of some elite organization?
“Do you really expect me to believe this? Is this some gimmick to recruit me to sell something?”
“I promise you it’s not. I presented your credentials to the board and they want to meet you.”
“Credentials?”
“The fact that you work for a law firm and are familiar with the law, attorneys and the court system, we believe you could be a major asset to the organization.”
Her head was spinning. This was nonsense, but she figured the least she could do was humor her mother. “Mom, I’m sure you really believe all this and if it will make you feel better I’ll meet your friends.” She patted her mother’s thigh.
Claudia pushed her daughter’s hand away. “Don’t patronize me! I’m not some blithering idiot. And you should know better.” She folded her arms in a huff. “If I’d thought for a minute that you would react this way I would have never opened my mouth.”
Savannah stole a glance at her mother and could tell by the hard set of her mouth and the deep furrow between her brows that she was dead serious.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, Mom, but you have to admit this all sounds crazy.”
“I know, I thought the same thing. But it’s real, very real. So are you interested?”
“Intrigued, for sure.”
“Good.” Her expression brightened. “I’ll set everything up.”
And she did. Savannah met with Dina and Leslie and was grilled as if she were applying for a job with the CIA. Then they did a background check and when everything came back clear she began her training which lasted for six months.
TLC was a secret society of highly skilled women who were hired to perform covert operations at the behest of scorned wives, jealous husbands, business executives, government agencies and families in dispute over inheritances. It came into being more than a decade earlier, having started in Langley, VirgiMia—home to secrets and lies. What began as a small investigative firm headed by Jean Wallington, slowly mushroomed into TLC with branches all across the country.
Savannah was ready for her very first assignment and she hoped that tonight would be the night.
“I want to begin by congratulating Tina and Marilyn for the excellent job they did with the redlining that was happening on Long Island,” Leslie said. “As a result of their hard work, the real-estate agency that was discriminating against single women home owners and black families has been closed and the owners are facing jail time.”
A cheer followed by applause filled the room.
“Brenda Levin has been promoted to level two for her hard work in recruiting the most new members in the past year.”
More applause.
“Tonight I want you all to give a warm welcome to three new recruits. When I call your names will you please stand? Margaret Jacobs, Mi Lin Chan and Denise Walker.”
The ladies stood, smiled and waved at their fellow Cartel members to shouts of “Welcome aboard.”
Leslie waited until the room quieted. She scanned the room. “As you know from the monthly newsletter that comes with your supplies, we have several cases that need our attention. The board has reviewed the experience, skills and personal backgrounds of each of you and we’ve made our selections.” Leslie cleared her throat and tucked several strands of her blond hair behind her ear. She opened a leather folder and pulled out a piece of paper. The room hushed.
“Serena Hamilton, Justine Parker and Savannah Fields.”
The collected held breath was released. Savannah clutched her mother’s hand, animation sparkling in her eyes.
“Each of you ladies will receive your instructions before you leave tonight. Of course, after reading what is required of you, you have the option to decline the assignment. Should you decide to take the assignment you will be provided with whatever support the Cartel can provide. Congratulations, ladies, and with that this portion of the meeting is adjourned. Feel free to enjoy the food and drinks and would Serena, Justine and Savannah stop in the office before you leave.” Leslie stepped away from the podium and chatter filled the room.
“Congratulations, Savannah,” Melonie, one of the early members of the Cartel said. “This is your first assignment, right?”
“Yes, it is.” Savannah was giddy with excitement. Her mind was running in a million directions at once trying to imagine what her assignment would be.
Melonie touched Savannah’s shoulder. “Well, if you need anything let me know, but you have a pro in the family,” she added, looking with admiration at Claudia. “So I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Savannah drew in a long breath. “That I do.”
They chatted for a few minutes more and Savannah continued to get words of encouragement and support from her sister members.
Claudia yawned. “Sorry,” she said. “Long day.”
Savannah looked at her watch and gasped in alarm. It was nine forty-five. She’d promised Blake she would meet him at the restaurant at ten and she still had to meet with Leslie to get her assignment.
“I really have to go. I have a dinner date with my husband.”
“Go, girl, go,” Melonie said.
“Let me check in with Leslie. Mom, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, said her goodbyes and hurried to the main office which was down the hallway from the ballroom.
When she got to the office, Justine was just coming out. “Good luck,” she murmured as she passed Savannah.
“Thanks, you, too.”
Savannah stepped up to the closed door and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” came the voice on the other side of the door.
Savannah turned the knob and stepped inside. For an instant her step faltered. It wasn’t Leslie as she’d expected but the head honcho in charge.
“Savannah.” Jean Wallington beamed as if she’d run into a long-lost friend. “Come in. Have a seat.”
Jean Wallington rarely made an appearance. She was so high up the chain of command that you needed oxygen to hang out with her. Word had it that she was a former CIA operative who’d specialized in covert opts. Having had her fill with the old boys’ club she,
