Home Free - Fern Michaels [53]
“Maybe her hands are tied, and she doesn’t want anything bouncing back on her or the administration. Perhaps hints are all she can give us, and she has enough faith in us to trust we’ll figure it out,” Myra said.
“Well, that sucks,” Kathryn said. “Listen, I’m tired, so I’m going home. What time do you want us back here tomorrow, Yoko?”
“Nine o’clock will be good. But whatever works for you will work for me.”
The Sisters gathered up the leftover food and paper plates. Maggie folded the roll of felt and put it back where she’d found it.
“I might be a little late. I’m going to stop at the paper to get Ted up to speed and get this show on the road.”
When the nursery was empty, Yoko locked up and prepared to go to bed. Harry wouldn’t even notice that she didn’t return to the dojo. Jack and Bert would notice, but not Harry. She felt sad, but she understood her husband’s passion. She looked around at the fragrant wreaths, blankets, and the Christmas trees, and did a quick calculation as to what they would fetch. If she, with the help of the Sisters, tripled their output and sold everything, she just might clear enough money to pay the tribunal. Well, that wasn’t quite right. Harry had already paid for the first master, and while Jack and Bert had run off the second group demanding payment, Yoko knew they would have to pay it somehow, someway. She felt her insides start to crumble. Harry was so stubborn.
Yoko trudged back into her office, unrolled a sleep mat, spread a blanket. She curled into the fetal position and closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Maggie Spritzer hated walking into the Post on a Saturday. It was too quiet, almost ghostly. The skeleton crew merely nodded as she passed them on the way to her office. She knew there would be no coffee or donuts in the kitchen. Unless Ted or Espinosa picked up some donuts, she would have to settle for coffee, which she would have to make herself.
She marched down the hall to the kitchen and prepared the coffeepot. She childishly crossed her fingers that Ted would bring a delectable box of Krispy Kremes. If not, she’d send him right back out.
Back in her office, Maggie booted up her computer and waited for her e-mail to pop up. Ahhhh, an e-mail from Gus Sullivan. Maggie felt light-headed as she clicked the button that would let her read the message. She wanted to cry when she saw the one-word message: HI! She was beyond disappointed at the message. Without hesitation, she typed a two-word reply: Hi, yourself! She pressed SEND, then turned off her e-mail just as she heard the elevator ping, hopefully bringing Ted and Espinosa.
Maggie beelined for the kitchen when she saw both reporters, Ted holding up a large box of Krispy Kremes. “Jelly, chocolate frosted, butter cream frosting, eclairs and cream puffs, custard filling in both. Whooeee!” Ted said as he ripped open the box while Maggie poured the coffee.
“This is sooo good. Thanks, Ted. I really needed these donuts this morning. So, tell me, did you do anything on Jason Parker? And if you didn’t, it’s okay, what with Thanksgiving and everything, but I need you two to get on something else, too. I want everything you can get on Adam Daniels, Barney Gray, Henry Maris, and Matthew Logan, and I want it all as soon as possible. I don’t care how you get the information, who you have to bribe, or what you have to promise, just get it.
“My gut is telling me there is a common denominator here. Find it. It might be a thing, a situation, an event, a person. I want you to dig all the way to hell and back. Like I said, find it. If possible, I want a bona fide reason why the NSA wasn’t represented at Camp David over Thanksgiving. Work around the clock, get me what I want and need, and a very nice bonus will be in your next paychecks.”
“What’s going on, Maggie?” Ted asked.
“I wish I knew, but the fact