sitting duck.”
“They didn’t see us, Mark. Shit, we were so close. Ten more minutes, that’s all it would have taken!”
“Think about this, you asshole. Let’s just say that button did open on to a mysterious…what, Jack? A secret room? Stairs that lead to a secret tunnel? Then what? Just supposing you were right and we entered whatever is behind the fireplace and the limo and the dogs arrived. What the hell would we have done? Picture this: the three of us carted off to jail. No money for bail. Our pictures on the front page. Are you listening to me, Jack?”
Jack shrugged. “Do you know if Conway took the tape from the answering machine? Take a look at the picture you snapped. Is the button visible?”
Mark looked down at the picture he was holding. “Yeah, you can see a button. For all the good it’s going to do us. Where the hell are you going? This isn’t the way to our apartment, and I have no idea if Conway took the tape or not. For all our sakes, I hope not.”
“We’re going to Georgetown to Nikki’s town house. Then we’re going to have breakfast, or I can make us breakfast at her house. I know where everything is.”
“You’re insane! Do you have a secret death wish?” Mark snarled.
“I’m not insane. I’m right. I knew — know — those women are out there breaking the law. I just proved it to you. Sometimes I am so smart I can’t stand myself. And, no, I do not have a death wish. I also know we just blew our one and only opportunity to get inside that house. From here on in, good old Myra will probably hire a SWAT team to guard the place. More proof that something unlawful is going on. Bet you ten bucks that was the architect in the limo. Damn, why weren’t we smart enough to put a bug in the phone?”
Mark clamped his lips shut. There was no sense wasting his breath talking to Jack. Jack had tunnel vision and a one-track mind when it came to the women of Pinewood.
They rode in silence until Jack finally said, “It’s snowing! What are we doing for Thanksgiving, Mark?”
Mark gritted his teeth. It was indeed snowing. “What would you like to do for Thanksgiving, Jack?” he asked, but Jack didn’t pick up on the heavy sarcasm. He was always amazed at how Jack could turn “it” off and go in another direction and then turn “it” back on and never miss a beat.
“Well, I don’t think either one of us can cook up a full-scale dinner, so let’s order from one of those places that do the whole thing. All you have to do is unwrap everything and set the table. We have to get some flowers for the table and some candles that smell. You’re supposed to use a tablecloth on holidays with real napkins, not paper ones. Do you have a tablecloth and napkins, Mark?”
“Shut the hell up, Jack. Flowers, candles, tablecloths, what difference does it make, for God’s sake?”
“The difference it makes is that it means we — me in particular — are not consumed by what’s going on in our professional life. It means we can keep our private life separate, for example, on Thanksgiving, our private life, is separate from the women of Pinewood, our professional life. Call Conway again and give him Nik’s address. Tell him to park wherever he can find a space. We’re going to need that gizmo to disarm her security system.”
“Do you know anything about Georgetown cops, Jack? They’re mean as snakes.”
“Kind of like you fibbies, huh?”
“Ex-fibbie, Jack. Yeah, like us. They kick ass first and take names later.”
“Mark, Mark, Mark, first they have to find our asses before they can kick them. Nik is always someplace. That means we have a clear shot at her town house. No one is going to call and complain. You need to relax or you’re going to get high blood pressure.”
Mark clamped his lips shut, his eyes straight ahead. He marveled at Jack’s good fortune in finding a parking spot on the crowded street. He watched as Conway parked three spaces down. If he was doing
“They didn’t see us, Mark. Shit, we were so close. Ten more minutes, that’s all it would have taken!”
“Think about this, you asshole. Let’s just say that button did open on to a mysterious…what, Jack? A secret room? Stairs that lead to a secret tunnel? Then what? Just supposing you were right and we entered whatever is behind the fireplace and the limo and the dogs arrived. What the hell would we have done? Picture this: the three of us carted off to jail. No money for bail. Our pictures on the front page. Are you listening to me, Jack?”
Jack shrugged. “Do you know if Conway took the tape from the answering machine? Take a look at the picture you snapped. Is the button visible?”
Mark looked down at the picture he was holding. “Yeah, you can see a button. For all the good it’s going to do us. Where the hell are you going? This isn’t the way to our apartment, and I have no idea if Conway took the tape or not. For all our sakes, I hope not.”
“We’re going to Georgetown to Nikki’s town house. Then we’re going to have breakfast, or I can make us breakfast at her house. I know where everything is.”
“You’re insane! Do you have a secret death wish?” Mark snarled.
“I’m not insane. I’m right. I knew — know — those women are out there breaking the law. I just proved it to you. Sometimes I am so smart I can’t stand myself. And, no, I do not have a death wish. I also know we just blew our one and only opportunity to get inside that house. From here on in, good old Myra will probably hire a SWAT team to guard the place. More proof that something unlawful is going on. Bet you ten bucks that was the architect in the limo. Damn, why weren’t we smart enough to put a bug in the phone?”
Mark clamped his lips shut. There was no sense wasting his breath talking to Jack. Jack had tunnel vision and a one-track mind when it came to the women of Pinewood.
They rode in silence until Jack finally said, “It’s snowing! What are we doing for Thanksgiving, Mark?”
Mark gritted his teeth. It was indeed snowing. “What would you like to do for Thanksgiving, Jack?” he asked, but Jack didn’t pick up on the heavy sarcasm. He was always amazed at how Jack could turn “it” off and go in another direction and then turn “it” back on and never miss a beat.
“Well, I don’t think either one of us can cook up a full-scale dinner, so let’s order from one of those places that do the whole thing. All you have to do is unwrap everything and set the table. We have to get some flowers for the table and some candles that smell. You’re supposed to use a tablecloth on holidays with real napkins, not paper ones. Do you have a tablecloth and napkins, Mark?”
“Shut the hell up, Jack. Flowers, candles, tablecloths, what difference does it make, for God’s sake?”
“The difference it makes is that it means we — me in particular — are not consumed by what’s going on in our professional life. It means we can keep our private life separate, for example, on Thanksgiving, our private life, is separate from the women of Pinewood, our professional life. Call Conway again and give him Nik’s address. Tell him to park wherever he can find a space. We’re going to need that gizmo to disarm her security system.”
“Do you know anything about Georgetown cops, Jack? They’re mean as snakes.”
“Kind of like you fibbies, huh?”
“Ex-fibbie, Jack. Yeah, like us. They kick ass first and take names later.”
“Mark, Mark, Mark, first they have to find our asses before they can kick them. Nik is always someplace. That means we have a clear shot at her town house. No one is going to call and complain. You need to relax or you’re going to get high blood pressure.”
Mark clamped his lips shut, his eyes straight ahead. He marveled at Jack’s good fortune in finding a parking spot on the crowded street. He watched as Conway parked three spaces down. If he was doing
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