Payback by Fern Michaels

thought of the police taking Jack off in handcuffs. Jack saw the lights at the same time and prepared to run, but Murphy had other ideas.
    “Stop where you are and put your hands in the air,” came the command. Nikki’s hands shot in the air in the blink of an eye. Jack wasn’t quite as fast but his hands did go up.
    “You witch! You miserable, lying witch! You called the cops and tricked me! Jesus, what the hell are you women doing in that house? This is a new low even for you, Nik.”
    Nikki didn’t respond, she was too choked up. She started off in the direction of the house. She knew if she looked back, she’d crumble into a million pieces. She started to run but Murphy beat her by a nose. She collapsed in Myra’s arms.
    “Are you all right, dear?”
    Not “What happened, is he going to turn us in?” No, that wasn’t Myra. Myra loved her and her first concern was her welfare. Whatever Jack did or said, she would deal with.
    “I’m OK, Myra. They took him off in handcuffs. I didn’t stick around to watch but I did hear the clink of the cuffs. He was madder than a wet rooster, I can tell you that. There was a little name-calling but nothing I can’t handle. Myra, he isn’t going to give up. We have to make some decisions.”
    Myra wrapped Nikki in her arms. “I’ve taken care of everything, dear. I called the governor. Word will filter down to the right people within the hour. Mr. Emery will not be bothering us any longer.”
    Nikki gasped. “You called the governor of Virginia because…because…”
    “Because ADA Emery is becoming a thorn in our side. As you know, Tyson Jackson is a personal friend. He’s been here to dinner more times than I can remember and I am the godmother of his first grandchild. One always calls upon one’s friends when one is in trouble, although I didn’t say I was in trouble. Tyson said he would take care of the matter, so we don’t have to worry about Mr. Emery any longer. I took care of everything, dear, so don’t worry.”
    Nikki slapped at her forehead. “Oh, God, Myra, that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t know Jack. Having the governor intervening on your behalf will just convince him that we’re up to something. I want you to believe me when I tell you Jack will quit his job and make this personal. He’s like that, a dog with a bone. He never gives up until he gets a conviction. What we did tonight was piss him off to the nth degree. Now, he’ll be out for blood. This is all my fault, Myra. I shouldn’t have had you call the cops. I wish you had told me you were going to call the governor.”
    “Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this spy game,” Myra said as she led Nikki and Murphy into the house. “It’s starting to rain, dear. We should roll up the awning on the terrace. Never mind, let it get wet, who cares?”
    “Jack didn’t believe me when I told him it was going to rain,” Nikki said.
    Myra whirled around. “Is that important, Nicole?”
    In spite of herself, Nikki burst out laughing. “No, Myra, it isn’t important. The damn awning isn’t important either. Neither is Jack getting arrested.”
    “Would you like some hot cocoa, dear?”
    “God, no, Myra. I’m going to bed.”
    “Good night, dear. Sleep tight,” Myra said as she pecked Nikki on the cheek.
    “You, too, Myra.”

     

    A hollow-eyed, unshaven Jack Emery marched into his office. No one looked at him. Maybe he smelled. He was angrier than he’d ever been in his life. One night in jail could do that to a person. He’d been released on his own recognizance and told to report to his superior, Chad Bartlett, stat, which meant immediately in D.A. speak. So, here he was. And there was District Attorney Chad Bartlett, clean-shaven, dewy-eyed and smelling like the prairie.
    “Don’t say a word, Emery, not one goddamn word. I got a call from the police commissioner last night. He actually woke me up. He said he got a call from the mayor. It seems the mayor got a call from the