Game Over. Fern Michaels

stew recipe that was in the warming pot. Certainly there was enough for Maggie. She flung open the door, looked at the falling snow, and said, “You’re just in time for dinner. Homemade stew, warm rolls, soft butter, crisp salad, and sorbet for dessert.”

      “I’m not hungry, Lizzie.”

      “Are you sick? What’s wrong? What are you doing here, anyway, at this time of night? My, God, did something happen on the mountain? Is Ted okay? Talk to me, Maggie.”

      Maggie kicked off her boots and shed her down jacket. She trailed behind Lizzie to the kitchen. She eyed Lizzie’s bowl of food but didn’t bat an eye. Instead, she opened the refrigerator and picked up a bottle of water. “Go ahead and eat. We’ll talk when you’re finished. Everything is fine. Nothing is an emergency.”

      Lizzie started to eat but realized she’d suddenly lost her appetite. She stirred the food around and watched Maggie out of the corner of her eye.

      “So how do you like working at the most famous address in the world?” Maggie asked.

      “It’s a job, Maggie. New people came on board when I did, so in a sense we’re all getting to know each other. Tobias Daniels is a great guy, and he’s going to be a superb chief of staff. We’ve known each other for years. He genuinely likes the president, so that’s a definite plus. Lowra Dilic was a great pick for press secretary. I’ve known Lowra for a long time, and she’s a great team player. I’m just glad Marti took my advice. I heard through the grapevine, that’s the White House gossip chain, that the old chief of staff is going to be indicted along with Baron Bell. I didn’t hear any other details, but Marti got rid of him just in time.”

      “Have you met anyone important?”

      “Nope. The prime minister of Israel was there today. So was some Muslim leader. I see Marti’s schedule every morning, and she doesn’t have a spare moment. I have no idea when she gets a bathroom-and-lipstick break. It’s a killer schedule. This is absolutely not for publication, Maggie, but something has Marti’s knickers in a twist. She came into my office, admired my window view, said hello, then just stared at me for five whole minutes. After that display of something or other, she kind of nodded to herself and told me not to work too hard and that she was glad I liked my office. Oh, she brought me a poinsettia plant for my desk. I thought that was a little weird, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is going on. I asked Toby, and he said he didn’t have a clue. I think he would have told me if he did.”

      “So, you like it there, huh?”

      “Actually, Maggie, I don’t like it there. I only took the job to make sure POTUS keeps her promise to the vigilantes. I gave her six months. She knows what she has to do.”

      “What if she hasn’t kept her promise at the end of the six months?” Maggie asked.

      “Then the girls can go at it, and I’ll help in any way I can. Just like you will. Do you want to tell me why you’re here so I can quit messing with this food I’m not going to eat?”

      Maggie made a production of going through her bag, looking for money. She finally ended up with eighty-seven cents. She laid the coins out on the table. “I’m hiring you, and this is my retainer. Unless you take credit cards.”

      Lizzie bolted upright. “Are you in some kind of trouble, Maggie? Did something happen at the paper? It’s not Ted, is it?”

      “None of the above, Lizzie. I’m not sure if I should be here, but we all belong to the same…club, so to speak. Plus…women have to stick together, don’t you agree? By the way, no one knows I’m here, and I’d like to keep it that way. Also, I probably should have called the mountain, but I didn’t.”

      “I absolutely do agree that we should all stick together. Why don’t you just tell me what brought you out here on this miserable night so we can go at it and make it right?”

      Maggie started to shred one of the paper napkins on the table. “We’re good on the eighty-seven-cent retainer?”

      “We’re good on the retainer, Maggie.”

      Maggie sucked in air and let it out with a loud swoosh. “Okay, here goes. Buckle up and listen carefully.”

      Chapter 5

      Ted Robinson walked to the curb and whistled shrilly. Luckily, a cab pulled up almost immediately. Both he and Espinosa climbed in. Ted leaned over the seat to speak to the driver. “We want to go to Georgetown, but with a stop at Andolino’s on the way.”

      Ted leaned back and buckled up. “Espinosa, call Andolino’s and order takeout for five. Spaghetti, meatballs, and sausage, with three orders of garlic bread, salads all around, and two six-packs. I’ll call Bert, Jack, and Harry.”

      Harry was the only one of the three who kicked up a fuss, which prompted Ted to say, “Listen, you ninja terrorist, I don’t have time for this bullshit. Just be at Jack’s when we get there. Espinosa and I are bringing dinner, and, no, if you want that tofu shit, bring your own, we’re eating Eye-tal-yun. That is so rude, Harry, and God or Buddha is going to punish you for talking to me like that. Bye.”

      “He’s going to kill you, Ted. You know that, right?”

      “Jack will shoot him. I’m not worried.”

      Espinosa laughed so hard he choked, and Ted had to pound him on the back.

      When Espinosa finally got his breath back, he asked, “Do you want to be fried or planted?” Then he went off into another choking fit of laughter.

      Ted stared out at the falling snow and thought it was tapering off. His thoughts turned to Maggie. He wished he wasn’t so gutless. He turned to Espinosa, who was staring out his own window. “Straight up, Joe, would you have caved in to Maggie the way I did?”

      “Yeah. Maggie has the full electric charge. The best we can hope for is a sputtering spark, which doesn’t say a whole hell of a lot for us.”

      Ted almost strangled himself when he squirmed and wiggled to face Espinosa. “What’s your best guess? Did those guys call the mountain? Did they spill their guts? I need to know your thoughts so we don’t go confessing to something they did, too. You getting my drift here?”

      “I am. The short and long answer is yes. I’m also thinking my ass is going to go in a sling when Alexis finds out she’s the only one who didn’t get a call. Do you think I should call her, Ted?”

      “Hell, yes. Talk sweet. Tell her you were in a dead zone, and the phone keeps dropping calls. We’re here. Anything else you want besides what you ordered?”

      “Yeah, two bags or boxes of cannoli. Make sure they have chocolate on the top.”

      The cabdriver slid to the curb, and Ted hopped out. He was back ten minutes later, his hands gripping two very fragrant shopping bags full of food. Two six-packs were tucked under his arms. The cab was moving before he could buckle up.

      “What’d she say?”

      “Nothing. The call went to voice mail. I told her to call me and said it was very important, crucial actually, along with critical, and to get back to me as quick as she could.”

      “Okay, your ass is covered. Do you really think the others blabbed?”

      “Absolutely they blabbed. You can take it to the bank.” Espinosa wondered if what he was saying was true. “Look, you’re good at bluffing and lying when you have to. You’re a reporter, for God’s sake. Just act like you know they did it and go on from there. Harry is not going to kill you. He might hurt you a little, but he doesn’t want to go to jail. Relax.”

      “We need a new circle of friends, Joe. Haven’t you noticed how stressed we are of late?”

      “I thought you’d never mention it,” Espinosa grumbled. “By chance, do you mean someone like Charlie Farrell and his gardening wife, or do you mean Matt Oliver and his social-climbing spouse?”

      “Jesus,