Truth and Justice - Fern Michaels Page 0,34
pose as possible clients in the hope he gives up something? Why he would give up anything at all to two strangers is anyone’s guess. So, I say we play it straight and hope for the best. You have your Post credentials, so that will help. You okay with that, Maggie?” Nikki said, as she parked the Post van in one of the six designated parking spots in the small parking lot. The only other vehicle in sight was a high-dollar shiny new silver Range Rover parked in the number one spot. Both women assumed the Range Rover belonged to Steven Conover.
Maggie led the way up a paved walkway surrounded by colorful, late-fall chrysanthemums. She looked around at the manicured grounds. Steven Conover had a good eye for color, style, and uniformity. It was all very pleasing to the eye. “It’s nice here, but off the beaten track so to speak. You’d really have to know this place is here to get here. Too far from town for me. I’m a convenience kind of gal myself.”
“Me too.” Nikki giggled. “You do realize, don’t you, Maggie, that’s just an excuse we use for being lazy?”
Maggie didn’t agree or disagree, but she did laugh out loud.
A bell tinkled over the door when Nikki opened it. Soft music, golden oldies, could be heard coming from the back of the building.
Nikki looked at Maggie. Both women shrugged at the same time. “Do we whistle, do we yell, hey you! What?”
The air moved and swirled all at the same time as a whirling swarm of Yorkshire terriers descended on the floor of the showroom. They came from all directions, yapping, barking, and yelping, stubby tails swinging furiously back and forth.
“They’re my welcoming committee,” a tall man with a bushy beard said, laughing at the expressions on Nikki’s and Maggie’s faces. “They’re all from the same litter. When it was time to find them a home, I just couldn’t part with them. By way of introduction,” he said, pointing to each dog. “Meet Jam, Jelly, Flash, Rosie, Maxine, Charlie, Gus, and Harvey. They were the litter. The mom is Lily, and the dad is Lenny. Yep, ten dogs. Love each and every one of them. But you didn’t drive all the way out here to hear about my dogs. What can I do for you? And the next question I always ask anyone who walks through that door behind you is, how did you hear about me?”
“For starters, we aren’t customers. I’m not adverse to buying something if it screams my name. My name is Maggie Spritzer. I’m a reporter for the Washington Post. My friend is Nikki Quinn. She’s an attorney with the Quinn Law Firm in Georgetown. We’re here to ask for your help. The only thing I can offer you in return for said help is some free advertising in the paper and an interview or article if you prefer. In answer to your second question, I searched you out.”
“Since this appears to be more social than business, let’s go upstairs to my apartment and have a cup of coffee. I was about to do that when you arrived. I pretty much live by a schedule, and I tend to get a little cranky when I get behind.”
“I’m kind of like that myself,” Maggie said, as she tiptoed around a cluster of little dogs who were bent on sniffing her feet. “I think they smell my cat on my shoes,” she said, and giggled.
Steven laughed. “For sure, those little rascals can smell a cat or a squirrel a mile away. So what’s it gonna be, ladies, coffee, tea, soft drinks, or something stronger?” Steven asked, as he prepared the coffeepot. “By the way, this is Kona coffee, straight from Hawaii. Nothing better in my opinion if that will help you make a decision.”
“We’ll take it!” Nikki said. Maggie nodded.
“This is very nice,” Maggie said, looking around the lived-in beautiful kitchen. It was full of antique Alabama red brick, a monster fieldstone fireplace big enough to roast an ox, green plants hanging from the beams and over the windows. What looked like handcrafted chairs and a table were covered in bright red tartan plaid cushions, while matching place mats decorated the rough-hewn table.
“I inherited all of this,” Steven said, waving his arms about, “from my parents when they passed away. Both my parents were world-renowned sculptors, so they pretty much paved the way for me to take over their business once they were gone.