Cross Roads. Fern Michaels

which was either on or off.

      Maggie sighed as the cab slid to the curb. She paid the driver and barreled out. As she stuffed her wallet back into her bag, she also managed to scan the area where the cab had stopped. There were cars everywhere. There were people everywhere. She tried to focus and remember exactly what she was seeing before she headed inside to the escalator that would take her up to Neiman Marcus.

      On the ride up the escalator, Maggie did her best to act nonchalant as she looked around as if she didn’t have a thing on her mind except shopping. The minute she stepped off the escalator, she headed straight for what she called the Designer Duds Department, where she went through the racks at the speed of light until a matronly woman came up to her with several dresses on her arm.

      “I was just about to put these out. They just came in. This one,” she said, holding up a slithery black number that Maggie knew had her name on it. Ted would go wild if he ever saw her in anything like that, she thought. She murmured something as the woman led her to a dressing room, where Maggie fiddled and diddled around just long enough for it to appear that she’d tried on the dress and admired herself in it.

      Back outside at the cashier’s station, the woman made a production of asking if she wanted a garment bag or a shopping bag. Maggie opted for the shopping bag since the dress was so soft and crushable. “Just wrap it in tissue paper.” She whipped out her credit card, watched it being scanned, and gulped at the amount the dress cost.

      Five minutes later, she was tripping her way back toward the escalator, carrying her gaily colored shopping bag, which seemed suspiciously heavy. She wondered if anyone would notice. She fixed a happy-go-lucky smile on her face as she swung the bag back and forth like she didn’t have a care in the world. She just knew she had outfoxed all those unseen eyes that were watching her.

      Thirty-five minutes later, Maggie was back at the dojo and sitting at the picnic table with the others. “What we have here, ladies and gentleman, are burn phones. We each get one. I guess Ted knows someone who got these, had them programmed, and they are untraceable. So he says. Now, let’s test them out by calling Bert, Kathryn, Nikki, and Jack and see what, if anything, comes out of the calls. While you all do that, I am going to call Lizzie on mine and ask her to find a reason to go to the White House. I want the skinny on that damn engagement. Who better to worm it out of the president than Lizzie?”

      “Good thinking, dear. I think once we know what that particular situation is, we might be able to figure things out, or at least get a lead on which direction we should go,” Myra said. Maggie did not fail to see the glint in Myra’s eyes. Myra was her old self, and Annie…Annie was about to go up in smoke any moment with all the excitement going on around her.

      Life was suddenly taking a turn upward. Yessireee.

      Chapter 6

      “I don’t know about you, Myra, but I think this table looks particularly festive,” Annie said as she placed gardenia-scented candles around the table. “But you know what I think is best?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “Little Lady and her pups getting underfoot and wanting us to play with them. It’s like this old farmhouse has come alive again. A family, Myra. I can’t wait for the gang to get here. I did so hope Lizzie would be able to make it, but she said Little Jack has an upper respiratory infection. Baby comes first, so we will just have to settle for the video conference after dinner.”

      Myra’s eyes started to mist as she bent down to pick up one of the pups, which was clawing at her shoe. “There is nothing sweeter in this whole wide world than a new baby and a new pup. Absolutely nothing.”

      “I couldn’t agree more,” Annie said as she, too, picked up a pup to cuddle. “We’re going to have to name these little guys pretty soon. We can’t keep calling them One, Two, Three, and Four. Don’t say A, B, C, and D.”

      Myra laughed. “Maybe our guests will have some ideas for names. I’m so excited that they’re all coming for dinner. It’s almost like old times, isn’t it, Annie?”

      “Almost. It’s been three days since we came back from town. There is still no word from the others. Joseph called to say that Alexis was on her way home with Grady last night, so she’ll be here for dinner. Did you notice I set the extra place?”

      “Annie, I was there. I heard the conversation on the speakerphone. It’s all so wonderful. I hope Little Lady and Grady get along together.”

      “I’m sure they will, and I do think I hear a car. In fact, I think Little Lady hears it, too. The hair on the scruff of her neck is on end. I’m so glad you got this dog, Myra. I just love this hustle and bustle and the fact that we’re all going to be together again. Well, five of our crew are missing, six if you count Stu Franklin, seven if we count Fish, which I am not inclined to do, but for the most part, we’re all here. I’m excited, aren’t you, Myra?”

      “I am, more than you will ever know.”

      Within minutes it was like old times as all of Charles’s chicks bounded into the kitchen. On cue, they ooohed and aaahed over the delicious aromas wafting about. They hugged Charles, smooched him on the cheek, then they all settled down to watch the interaction between Grady, Little Lady, and the four pups wobbling about the kitchen on their rubbery legs.

      “This is so good for Grady. Even though he flew with me first-class, thanks to Annie, he’s been cooped up way too long. He can run here to his heart’s content. He missed Murphy so much back in the beginning. He wouldn’t eat and he got sick, and we were in a foreign country. It was just awful. When I told him we were going home, he was a new dog. They like each other,” she said, pointing to the two dogs, who were nuzzling each other. “And now he has four additional playmates. Win! Win! Oh, God, Myra, I am so very happy to be here again. I am never, ever going to leave these shores again. Write that down, everybody, because I mean it.”

      “There is no need to write it down, darling girl. We will not allow any of you to separate from us again. We had our fill of being alone, and none of us liked it. Family is family, and we’re sticking close this time around,” Myra said happily.

      Yoko smiled through her tears as she cuddled one of the pups close to her chest. No one missed the concern in Harry’s eyes.

      Small talk continued as Charles poured wine. The toast was simple. “To family and togetherness.”

      The gathering trooped into the dining room as the dogs headed to Little Lady’s lair and the pen where the pups slept.

      “Voilà!” Charles said, throwing open the door to the dining room.

      “It’s like Thanksgiving!” Ted said. “I want a drumstick!”

      “Everything, just like Thanksgiving,” Yoko said. “We do have so much to be thankful for today.”

      “I wish the others were here,” Maggie said.

      “They are, dear, in spirit. See, Charles set places for them. Joseph is going to take some pictures and send them on to Bert and Jack,” Annie said. “We’re hoping when they see us all here at the farmhouse, they will put it together and get in touch somehow. That is, if the pictures make it through cyberspace.”

      Espinosa stood up behind his chair as Charles poured yet a second toast. He captured forever on film the sparkling glasses being held aloft, the smiles, the beautiful table setting, the succulent turkey, and the pups—who, fortuitously, had just escaped their pen.

      Myra said she thought that on this day, and during this particular dinner, she was the happiest she’d been since being granted her pardon. Her declaration was received with whoops of agreement from all those at the table. Underneath, the pups whined, demanding to be picked up. Little Lady and Grady picked them up, one by one, by the scruffs of the necks and returned them to their pen.

      The “Thanksgiving” meal progressed until the men loosened their belts and the women sighed with contentment, all professing they couldn’t eat another bite. Well, they finally conceded an hour later that maybe they could eat the pumpkin pie with homemade