Home Free - Fern Michaels [7]
“And Plan B would be what?” Jack thundered. “Plan Bs for some reason don’t work all that well for us, or haven’t you noticed?”
“The vigilantes!” Bert exploded.
Yoko’s teacup shattered on the floor.
“Well, hot damn! Why didn’t I think of that?” Jack said, excitement ringing in his voice. “I do think, Mr. Navarro, you just might be onto something here. Yoko, what do you think?”
“I . . . I can’t be part of . . . I just can’t, Jack,” Yoko said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You won’t have a choice. You are one of them. You have to follow the oath you all swore. This is for Harry, for his lifelong dream. We can make it happen for him but only if we have help. Harry will understand. At least I hope Harry will understand,” Jack mumbled.
“Let’s call it a night now and attack this first thing in the morning,” Bert said. “We’ll call the girls when we get home. Then we’ll try and talk to Harry about it in the morning.”
Her eyes wet with tears, Yoko led the way downstairs and through the dojo. She allowed herself to be hugged and her tears to be wiped away by Jack.
“It’s all going to work out, Yoko. Trust us, okay?”
Yoko’s head bobbed up and down, but fresh tears trailed down her cheeks.
Chapter 2
Jack Emery leaned back and sighed. “I’m stuffed. We should have just gone with the Chinese instead of doubling up on the Italian. I guess the good thing is, you’re going to be eating all of this food for the rest of the week, unless Kathryn cooks when she comes over.”
“Kathryn does not cook. She’s on the road and won’t be back till the weekend. You’re right, though. One or the other would have been enough. C’mon, we’ve danced around this long enough. What are we going to do about Harry?”
At that very moment, the doorbell decided to ring. Bert’s eyebrows shot upward as he walked through the living room to the foyer and front door. “It’s Maggie!” he shouted to Jack. “Bet she couldn’t get through the streets of Georgetown, either. That takes care of what to do with all this food. Set another place, Jack!”
Bert opened the door with a flourish and bowed low. “Welcome to my abode, my soaking wet friend.”
“Eat me,” Maggie snapped as she sloshed her way into Bert’s house. “I need some dry clothes and I am not fussy. Oh, food. Warm some up for me.”
“Hello to you, too, Miss Cranky Curmudgeon,” Jack said.
“Can you turn up the heat, Jack? I’m freezing,” Maggie said as she followed Bert to the bathroom and waited while he brought her a pile of clothes.
“Absolutely I can turn up the heat. I’m here to serve you, Miss EIC of the Post.” Not for the world would Jack ever admit he was glad to see Maggie. Three heads, or even four if one counted Yoko, were better than one.
Jack slammed the door of the microwave oven and pressed the buttons that would warm up all the leftover food. He knew it would all be gone by the end of the evening and Bert would be back to eating out for the rest of the week.
Maggie walked into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of Bert’s sweats, which were only a dozen sizes too big and made her look like something out of a traveling circus. The arms and legs were rolled up six or seven times, and they still hung like a sack on her slim frame. “Ah, Chinese and Italian, my two favorites.” She crunched down on a garlic stick and sighed happily. “Everything is flooded. Can I sleep on your couch? Did you put my clothes in the dryer? Paper plates, plastic silverware. How gross,” Maggie said as she dived into the food Jack had put in front of her.
“Can you eat and listen while we talk?” Bert asked.
Maggie nodded.
Both men rattled on, one or the other jostling the other’s memory with something forgotten or left unsaid.
“You getting all of this?” Jack asked.
Maggie nodded again as she stuffed the last of a shrimp roll into her mouth.
“Yoko isn’t going to be any help,” Bert said. “You got any ideas?”
Maggie swallowed hard and reached for her tea. “With Harry? You have to be kidding. You