“Did it look like some sort of altercation?” Maggie prodded.
“I don’t think so. She seemed to know them.”
“Did she smile at them?”
“I couldn’t see her face.”
“Did they touch her in any way? Grab her? Shove her?” The hair on the back of Maggie’s neck was standing at attention now.
“No. Just a few words, and she got in willingly. I’m sorry I don’t have any other information for you.” The flower lady was trying to be as helpful as possible. “But there was one thing that struck me as odd.”
“What was that?” Maggie listened intently.
The flower lady continued, “The men were dressed in exactly the same clothing.”
“Like suits?” Maggie prodded.
“No. They were wearing big shirts. The kind men wear for yoga or meditation, but they were black. Like a tunic but with toggle-like frogs. You know, instead of buttons. The pants were white. They looked a little out of place for this part of town.”
“Can you describe the men?”
“Just average Caucasian, with very short light brown hair,” the woman said.
“Anything else you can think of?” Maggie pushed harder. “Did the shirts say anything? Did they have a logo?”
“Now that you mention it, there was some kind of symbol on the left.”
“Did you recognize it?” Maggie was writing feverishly.
“Sorry, no. They moved too fast for me to see. Oh, and they looked pretty buff. Like they work out a lot,” the flower lady added.
“You didn’t happen to get the license plate of the SUV?”
“No. Most cars in Florida don’t have state plates on the front, and I didn’t think to look when they turned around.”
Maggie was about to start biting her nails, a habit she had tried to break for years. At one point, she had regular manicures to cure her from the nibbling, but it had been weeks since her last visit to the salon. Her cuticles were ripe for the chewing. “Okay. Thank you very much. This has been very helpful. Can you please take down my number in case you remember anything else?”
“Of course, dear.”
Maggie rattled off the toll-free number and her cell to the woman. As soon she got off the phone, she buzzed her boss, Anna (Annie) Ryland de Silva. Countess de Silva, one of the richest women in the world, who also happened to own the newspaper where Maggie worked. Annie was also part of a select group of women, known to many as the Sisterhood, founded by Myra Rutledge. Annie’s life partner, Fergus, formerly of Scotland Yard, was an adjunct member of the group and a friend of Charles Martin, Myra’s husband.
The Sisterhood began when Myra’s daughter Barbara was struck down and killed several years before. The driver was never prosecuted owing to his diplomatic immunity. To make the situation more horrendous, Barbara was pregnant at the time.
That horrible situation threw Myra into a state of ultimate despair. The man who was now her husband was a former MI6 agent who had unceremoniously left the UK, leading him to look for work in the States. He interviewed for a position as head of security at Myra’s candy company, where they began a lifetime, loving relationship.
In spite of all of his doting, Myra remained in a fog of hopelessness until one day she saw a news clip about a woman whom the legal system had failed. Staring at the TV, Myra had an epiphany. No one else would be a victim of an injustice even if it meant taking matters into her own hands. In a very short time, the group grew, with each woman bringing her own special talents to their cause.
Lizzie Fox Cricket was a crackerjack lawyer, considered one of the sharpest in the world. Nikki Quinn, Myra’s adopted daughter, was also a lawyer. Kathryn Lucas, a graduate of MIT with a degree in nuclear engineering, had been brutally raped, while her husband, suffering from MS, was forced to watch. When her husband died, Kathryn took on his vocation as a big-rig, long-distance truck driver. She preferred the freedom of the open road over a desk job or a position in a laboratory.
Alexis Thorn, a beautiful African American woman, was wrongly imprisoned while the real criminals spent the profits from their stock scam. After her release, she went to law school and became a member of Nikki’s law firm. She also happened to be a master of disguise. Yoko Akia owned and ran a plant nursery when she wasn’t honing her exceptional martial-arts skills; and Isabelle Flanders owned her own architectural firm and was becoming a master computer hacker under the tutelage of her husband, Abner Tookus.
Maggie’s first thought was to bring in the sisters, but not before she did a little research on her own. In the meantime, she would talk to Annie and get her advice.
Chapter Four
2008
South Florida
When their final semester was ending, Noah and Liam received a disturbing phone call from their family attorney. Their father had been arrested for running a Ponzi scheme that rivaled the one for which Bernie Madoff would eventually be arrested. Sidney’s behavior during the holidays was beginning to make sense. He must have sensed that the FBI was onto him, but before he could make a move, they seized all his assets, indicted him, and stuck him in jail without bail until he could be tried. They were not taking any chances of his making bail and skipping the country.
It also answered the mystery of Mother’s earlier departure for England. She had to have known something. Whether she had full knowledge of Sidney’s financial shenanigans, and if so for how long, was her little secret, a secret she wasn’t about to share. She had transferred a goodly sum of money into an offshore account prior to her departure, then transferred it to London upon her arrival in the UK. Her New Year’s Eve gala was intended to create the illusion of normalcy.
Liam and Noah had been thrown to the wolves.
Noah was in a state of panic and rage. But Liam began to think about a plan. If he could make enough money to share an apartment with Noah, he could work on his master’s degree in psychology. Liam decided to apply for a position as a graduate assistant and to get several side jobs tutoring. It wouldn’t be a lot, and he would be living month-to-month, but he would be able to share the bills with Noah. At least the overhead. Noah was interested in leading a much ritzier lifestyle and thought he could afford it, for a while.
When Noah heard the news about the loss of his family’s wealth, he was too furious to think about continuing his education. What for? No. He would figure out a way to make money. Lots of money. He dug through his contacts list and found Daniel Ruffing’s number. Connecting with the billionaire would certainly be a good move. Even if it meant working for him. How bad could selling yachts be? Noah dialed his private cell number.
“DJ here.” Daniel Ruffing’s voice came through loud and clear.
“Hey, it’s Noah. Noah Westlake. How are you, sir?” Noah’s voice was a little shaky. He had never had to grovel before. Ever.
“Noah. Good to hear from you, but please drop the ‘sir.’ Makes me sound old,” Ruffing said with a guffaw. “Call me DJ.”
Noah was even more nervous. He hadn’t expected the conversation to be so casual. What he was expecting were questions about his father, or that Ruffing would simply hang up on him because of his father. Noah had no idea as to the real relationship the two men had. But based on the tone of his voice, Ruffing was quite blase. “What can I do for you, Noah?”