"Tell me about Gretchen," Albright said with a catch in his voice.

"I can't tell you anything. But I can call the person who asked me to find you, and she can answer all your questions."

Albright rubbed his hands through his thick hair, his eyes alight with something Isabelle couldn't define. Love maybe.

Isabelle punched in the numbers for Maggie, and when Maggie came on the phone, Isabelle grinned at the exuberant greeting. "Whoa! Listen, I'm sitting in Mr. Albright's living room, as we speak. He has questions that I can't answer. I'm going to turn him over to you." Isabelle handed the phone to Albright, who walked away toward his kitchen. She could hear him talking, but not distinctly. She walked over to the window to stare out at the rain. It hadn't let up at all.

Isabelle felt twitchy, nervous. Maybe she should have eaten something. What was Maggie telling Albright? She knew enough background now to worry that things were going to escalate fast. If she had found this guy, someone else could find him just as easily, if all that Maggie had said was spot-on. She clenched her fists and unclenched them.

Isabelle felt his presence before he spoke. She whirled around and was stunned at the tortured look on the young man's face. He returned her cell phone to her. She waited.

Albright rubbed his hands across his face, then through his hair. "I don't know what to say. I feel like I've been kicked in the gut by a mule. I just recently learned that I'm a father, the father of twins. I had no idea, no clue. I hadn't even known Gretchen was pregnant until a friend, Zack back in the States, told me. I don't understand why she didn't tell me. It all makes sense now.

"I don't know what to do. The lady on the phone-she said her name was Maggie Spritzer-suggested I return to the States tomorrow with you. She said if you found me, then Gretchen's father's people will find me. She explained as much as she knew about what's going on. Jesus, all this time I've been sitting here like an idiot, waiting for Gretchen to come and knock on my door. Talk about being a fool!"

"I'm just the messenger, Mr. Albright. I know Maggie very well. If her advice is for you to return with me, it would be wise to do just that. From what I'm told about him, Mr. Spyder, Gretchen's father is . . . an unsavory character, to put it mildly. And that despite the fact, or maybe because, he is either the richest or at least one of the richest people in the world. He wants those children. And from what I understand, when that man wants something, he's going to get it, no matter what. Nothing will stand in his way. Your children are safe, with parents who love them. I get it that you didn't know until very recently, and that alone might give you grounds to fight for them on your own, but do you really want to disrupt those children's lives and rip them away from the only parents they've ever known?

"Gretchen herself is the one you need to speak with. I don't know how you can make that happen. I truly don't. If her father finds you, he will dangle you as bait for his daughter and use you for his own ends, getting possession of those children. And that is exactly what they would become, his possessions. You know her better than I do. What will she do?"

Albright shrugged. "I thought I knew her. I loved her. I still love her. I never understood why she didn't get in touch or join me, the way she promised. Now that you and Zack have told me about her accident, I don't feel quite as much a fool. She loved me. She did. She never talked much about her family. She did say one time that she wanted to get as far away from her father as she could. But then she went on to say there was no place on earth that he couldn't find her. I hate to admit this, but I thought she was being overly dramatic.

"She did tell me to buy this place under an assumed name, but things didn't work out with that plan. The Brits are a cautious lot. So I guess you are right in that respect. Buying it under my own name with Gretchen's money was a mistake. Since Zack called, I have been trying to adjust to the fact that I have two children, twins."

"You really don't, Mr. Albright. The children are no longer yours or Gretchen's. I suppose a case might be made for you since you did not know about them and did not agree to their being adopted, but I'm no lawyer. Right now, the children are all that matter. The Domingos have your children, and it was all done legally. The fact that their mother lied is going to be a problem, and you are now part of that problem. I'm sure, considering the circumstances, that if things can be worked out, the Domingos would let you be part of the twins' life. Gretchen, too, if she wants. Not so Gretchen's father. So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Sit here and think. That Maggie person gave me her number to call if I decide to head back to the States. She warned me that the airports are probably on alert, should my name pop up. She said that's how much clout Gretchen's father has. I don't know the first thing about how to go about getting a bogus identity. Do you?"

Isabelle laughed. She couldn't remember when she had last laughed. "As a matter of fact, I do. Let me make a phone call."

Albright stared at Isabelle like she'd sprouted horns, then shook his head and shrugged.

Isabelle walked over to the window and made her call to Avery Snowden. She talked quickly, explaining the situation, then motioned that she needed a pen and paper. Albright tripped over his own feet in his haste to get them to her. Isabelle scribbled furiously. "And the amount?" She listened and nodded before she broke the connection.

"Do you have a car, Mr. Albright? If you do, is it in your name?"

"I do, and it's parked in back of the house. Yes, it's in my name. The garage is full of stuff."

"Go to this address in London, and the people there will do what needs to be done. It's going to take roughly two days, give or take. You'll need to make some alterations to your physical features, and they will help you with that. All this will be paid for by our people, as well as your airline ticket. Once you arrive at that location, you are not to leave until your new identity is totally in place. If you have a bank account, close it out and take the money in cash. Do not use a credit card. Sell your car and take that money in cash also. You will leave all that money with the people who are helping you. When you arrive Stateside, the money will be given back to you in dollars as opposed to pounds. You will lose a bit in the exchange, but that's the cost of doing business."

"This is so . . . so . . . cloak and daggerish. I feel like I'm in a spy movie or something."

Isabelle quirked an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"It's mostly Gretchen's money. I didn't spend any of it except for the house. What will happen to it?"

"I don't know. Right now, that is not important. Do you have a job?"

"I do medical billing for a group of doctors in London. It's all done here. On weekends I do gardening for some elderly people."

"No loose ends. Notify everyone that you have a family emergency and need to leave for . . . wherever. I don't think I would say the good old USA. Maybe France or Belgium. Depending, of course, on whatever you may have said to them in the past concerning your background. Okay, we're done here, then, right? If so, I'll leave you to take care of your personal business.

"One more thing. I think that if I were you, I would wipe this place down and not leave any telltale signs that you were ever here. Take all your personal belongings. I can't stress enough the importance of your doing as I say."

"Is my life in danger, Miss Flanders?"

"I don't know the answer to that question, Mr. Albright. If you want me to guess, then I would say yes."

"From Gretchen's father?" Albright's eyes were round as saucers. "You make him sound like a devil."

"Sound? My mistake. He is the devil. Whatever you do, don't forget that. If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

Albright rubbed his hands together as he walked Isabelle to the door. "Will I ever see you again? Do you have any idea how I can get word to Gretchen?"

"I think you can count on seeing me again at some point. Let's both hope it is under more favorable circumstances. As to Gretchen, I'm sorry, but I don't have a clue. Perhaps when you return Stateside, our people can help you with that. Nice meeting you, Mr. Albright."

"Whom do you mean when you say 'Our people'?"

"I think it's better that you don't know right now. Good luck, Mr. Albright." With that said, Isabelle pulled the hood up on her rain slicker and ran for her car. She suddenly felt so alive, she thought about singing. Instead, she turned over the engine and cranked up the radio.

Homeward bound.

Chapter 8.

Isabelle Flanders staggered under the weight of her heavy shoulder bag as she walked through the concourse at Dulles Airport. She was beyond tired, beyond exhausted. She hadn't slept a wink the night before the flight, and she'd been unable to sleep during the flight across the Atlantic. Her mind buzzed and whirled with what would happen when her feet touched down on American soil. She wished now she'd put together a game plan, but game plans were for people who had missions and a course to follow. All she was doing was putting one foot in front of the other. If she had a plan, it was to pick up all her luggage, go through customs, find a cab, and head to the nearest hotel. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow she'd make a plan.

Forty minutes later, with a porter behind her and her five bags loaded on a dolly, Isabelle headed for the taxi line, only to be stopped by people calling her name. She whirled around to see her Sisters running toward her, their faces wreathed in smiles. Maggie was the first to reach her and grabbed her in a viselike bear hug. The others crowded around, to the amusement of other travelers. They were all laughing and crying, rubbing her back, and mouthing words she would only later remember.

"We'll take it from here," Nikki said, tipping the porter and wheeling the dolly with Isabelle's luggage around. "Maggie has the Post van parked in the garage. C'mon, everyone. Shake it. We have some celebrating to do."

Isabelle laughed and cried, her exhaustion gone. She was home. Her Sisters had forgiven her, and she was back in the fold. "Where are we going?" she managed to ask.

"For the moment, to Maggie's house," Kathryn said. "Damn, girl, it's so good to see you."

Alexis dabbed at her eyes. "We're all together again. This is so perfect. We all missed you. Are you okay? You are staying this time, right? You aren't going back? Does Abner know you're here?"

Isabelle beamed happily. "I've never been better, now that you're all here. I am staying. I will never, as in never, go back there. I . . . um . . . didn't tell Abner. I need to . . . work on that. I can use all the advice you guys care to give me. I love this sunshine. I couldn't wait to get back here. Girls, we need to talk."

"Until we can't talk anymore. We have all day. We'll order in and have a regular gabfest, like we used to. We have a new mission, and we were all worried that we were going to have to go in one short. Now that you're here, it's working out perfectly," Yoko said as she stroked Isabelle's back. "We missed you."

"I feel like we're whole again," Kathryn said jubilantly.

"You can stay with me, Isabelle, for as long as you want. Or if you want to go to the farm, that's okay, too. This is just temporary, until you and Abner . . . you know . . . patch it all up. No sense looking for a house or an apartment and making an unnecessary move. You okay with that?" Maggie said.

"I am."

"What about Ted?" Nikki asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Ted . . . ah . . . has visiting privileges. He doesn't live with me," Maggie said defensively. The girls hooted as Maggie's face turned pink.

Forty minutes later, Maggie pulled the van to the curb directly in front of her house. "By the way, I have a roommate. I found this cat shivering on my doorstep one day some months ago. I took him in, and he's my new best friend. I call him Hero. I think he saved my sanity the day he found me. Like I always say, everything happens for a reason."

The girls piled out of the van and shared in carrying Isabelle's luggage up the four steps that led to Maggie's front door.

"Just leave it all in the foyer until Isabelle decides what she wants to do. Ah, look, here's my little love," Maggie said, bending over to pick up the now-plump cat, who purred her happy song as she looked inquisitively at all the strange faces that were oohing and aahing over her.

"Coffee?" Nikki asked.

"Round table with coffee sounds like a plan," Kathryn said.

While Maggie washed her hands, Alexis made coffee, and Yoko put water on to boil for her special blend of tea, which Maggie kept stocked. Kathryn got out cups, while Nikki rummaged in the refrigerator for the cream. As always, when the girls were together, everything was a team effort.

Coffee cups in hand, they all looked at one another. "Talk to us, Isabelle," Kathryn said.

Isabelle did. For fifteen minutes. "End of story. The new age city is down the tubes. Someone else has taken it over. I'm home, I need a job, and if I'm lucky, I just might get my husband to forgive me. There's nothing more to tell. My dream of building a new age city is crumbling to ashes as we speak. I can't dwell on that now. That part of my life is over. Your turn. I want to hear everything, so start from the moment I left. By the way, has anyone heard anything from Charles, or is he still among the missing?"

"Nada on Charles," Yoko said. "I think we should let Maggie tell you what's going on. It is Annie's mission. She's the one who got us motivated to take it on. So, Maggie, speak up."

Stroking the snoozing cat in her lap, Maggie ran through the past week's activities. If she left something out, one of the other girls filled in the blanks, and Maggie moved on. She finished up with, "Right now, we're waiting to hear from Avery Snowden on this Albright guy, and Abner . . . ah . . . Abner is trying to hack into the hospital where Gretchen Spyder was taken after her accident to see what he can garner. We've already learned who the doctor was and decided that it's a dead end. To save us another trip to Florida. I seriously doubt that any other doctors or nurses will give up anything, even with a subpoena. We kicked around the idea of having Jack Sparrow get us some federal subpoenas but are in a holding pattern right now in that regard."

"When is the trip to Spyder Island?" Isabelle asked. "What are you going to do with Greg Albright once he gets here?"

"Soon, I think. Myra and Annie think just us girls should go, and then a few days later we'll have the boys arrive. As to Greg Albright, my thoughts would be to take him with us to Spyder Island. You know that old saying 'Hide in plain sight.' Well, I think that will work for us where he is concerned. The planning is all still a work in progress," Nikki said.

Kathryn leaned into the table and said, "I have a thought. Shouldn't we know before we go in who owns all those resort homes on the island, and won't it be to our advantage to know how many of those homes are occupied or are just being used as vacation getaways?"

"Good point! And we have to make some decisions where Hank Jellicoe is concerned. Thinking and guessing he's there isn't good enough. We need proof that he's there," Yoko said.

"And you're right," Maggie said. "That's another job for Abner. I think we're snowing him under, but I also know he works best under pressure. Who wants to call him?"

All eyes turned to Isabelle, whose face drained of all color. She shook her head. "I'm not ready to.... I have to make my case in my own mind. Maggie, I think you're our best shot when it comes to Abner. By the way, how are you so free now, when you're the Post's EIC?"

"I have a stand-in, a guy who would kill for my job. His name is Liam Eisling, and Annie okayed it. I'm back to being an investigative reporter. Okay, I'll call him. Oops, Avery is sending me a text." Maggie's eyes raked over the words. "Aha, our Mr. Greg Albright is good to go and will be on the first flight out of London the day after tomorrow. Sooner, if at all possible. Avery is sending me a picture of what he looks like now. Oh, and his new identity says his name is Stephen Wolansky. He is listed as a rookie agent of the FBI. Snowden said his creds are A1. That means even with close scrutiny someone won't pick up anything amiss, so I would imagine Jack Sparrow helped out there quite a bit. Okay, here comes the picture. Isabelle, what do you think, since you met him? Does he look anything like Greg Albright?"

"Good Lord, no! If I were face-to-face with him, I would swear that I had never seen him before. Greg Albright was . . . is a very good-looking young guy. Buff. Clothes fit him well. Really a nice guy. Sad, though. He truly loved Gretchen Spyder. Still does. This guy, Stephen Wolansky, looks kind of nerdy and yet sharp somehow. They, whoever they are, did a remarkable job."

"Snowden is going to pick him up at the airport when he arrives and take him out to the farm," Maggie said as she read off a second text that came through.

"Well, then, that's one loose end tied up tight with a nice big bow," Nikki said happily. "What's next on our agenda?"

"I think we should all head out to the farm and let Isabelle give Myra and Annie a big surprise." Alexis giggled.

"Let's do it, then," Kathryn said as she got up stiffly and worked her leg until she felt comfortable enough to put her full weight on it. "It's such a beautiful day, so who in their right mind would want to stay inside?"

"Not me, that's for sure," Isabelle said. "I've dreamed about a day like this for weeks. I can't remember the last time I saw the sun."

"Okay, then, let me fill Hero's bowl and get him settled. Then we can head out. Isabelle, do you think you might want to spend a day or so at the farm? If so, take what you need from your luggage."

Ten minutes later, the Post van was on the road and headed toward Pinewood.

Jack Emery was working on his "honey-do list," which Nikki had left for him, when his cell phone rang. "Hey, Abner. How's it going?" He listened, then laughed as he laid his paintbrush across the can of paint and leaned back against the back-porch pillar. "You should be on top of the world with Isabelle back." The silence on the other end of the phone made Jack stand bolt upright. "Oh, crap. You didn't know? Is that what you're not saying? The girls went to the airport to pick her up. It's a long story. I don't know why I just assumed you knew. Actually, I thought that was why you were calling me.

"Well, as I understand it, Maggie called Isabelle in England and asked her to see if there was any way she could track down Gretchen Spyder's baby daddy, and it worked out that she knew a Realtor, one with whom she'd dealt during the construction of the new age city, and she enlisted his help. Not that many Americans buy cottages in the English countryside. Long story short, she not only found the guy, but Nikki just texted me that he's due to arrive here the day after tomorrow, and Snowden is picking him up at the airport and taking him to the farm. Snowden got him a new identity."

Jack listened, then said, "How the hell should I know? The guy's a spook. He's got all kinds of sources. Anyway, the guy will arrive here, and the way Nik tells me via a text is that the guy will go on the first plane to Spyder Island with the girls. Hiding in plain sight, so to speak."

Cyrus nudged Jack's leg and dropped the ball he had in his mouth in front of Jack. Jack dutifully picked it up and threw it, and Cyrus raced off. "So why did you call? What's up? Tell me you need me to come to wherever you are, because I don't want to paint this damn porch railing." Jack listened, waiting for the invitation to visit Abner's loft. "Okay, I'm on my way."

Jack slammed the lid on the paint can, stomped it down with his foot. He dropped the brush in a coffee can that held turpentine. He whistled for Cyrus, who stopped chasing the ball and came on the run. Man and dog barreled through the house as though they were being chased by a team of man-eating lions. While Jack washed his hands and changed into a pair of old, worn, clean jeans, Cyrus gathered up his toys to take with him.

"One toy, Cyrus! And you didn't make your bed. Nikki is going to have a fit when she sees how sloppy you're getting."

The big shepherd, his head down, headed for his plush bed. He tugged at the blanket until the bed was covered.

"I see some wrinkles there, buddy."

Cyrus yipped, which meant "Take it or leave it."

Jack laughed. "Okay, let's go. Hey, you really want to take that duck? Go with the elephant. If you forget it, I'm not going back for it, and I don't care how much you whine because you can't sleep without it. Make up your mind."

The shepherd did his dance around his bed before he dropped his beloved duck with half a beak and only one ear on his bed. He picked up a stuffed elephant by its trunk, his second favorite toy, and raced out of the room.

"Okay, let's go!"

In the car, Jack hit his speed dial to call Ted. "Where are you guys? I'm headed to Abner's loft. Meet me there. I think he has something." He hit a second button, and Harry's surly voice came through as he announced his own name. "I know it's you, Harry, and you know it's me by the caller ID. I'm headed to Abner's loft. Can you meet me there? Ted, Espinosa, and Dennis are on the way. I think Abner has something. By the way, in case you don't know it, Isabelle is back, and she's with the girls, heading out to the farm."

He listened to Harry expound on business, the state of the economy, the weather, and the price of gasoline before he wound down, saying he would make it but would be a little late as he had twenty more minutes to run on his current class of ladies from the mayor's office, who loved to torture him. Jack was stunned at how fast Harry, always a man of few words, was talking. He grinned to himself at the vision of Harry with the mayor's office ladies who were trying to learn martial arts.

Forty-five minutes later, the guys were gathered around Abner's dining-room table. At the moment, instead of looking pleased with himself, Abner looked meaner than a junkyard dog, and he let it show. He looked at his friends and snarled, "Okay, let's hear it and get it out of the way. I hate advice, but I know we aren't going to get anywhere until you tell me what I should and shouldn't do in regard to the return of my wife. Spit it out, boys."

"I don't think I'm in any position to offer marital advice, but you need to think about the other ladies offering your wife advice. It's you against them. I don't think I would have the nerve or the guts to go up against those women. I've . . . uh . . . heard some pretty wild stories. So I'm going to pass on offering advice," Dennis said in a squeaky voice. He sat up straighter and squared his shoulders when he saw Harry glaring at him.

"The kid is right. You're doomed, Abner. It's all about Isabelle. Either you accept that she's back, kiss and make up, or you go ahead and file for divorce," Ted said. "Didn't you learn anything from me and Maggie and Joe here and Alexis?"

"Who said anything about a divorce?" Abner yelled.

"That's what happens when two people go their separate ways, even if it's just a relationship and not marriage. You cut your losses and move on," Espinosa said.

All eyes turned to Jack. Cyrus reared up and yipped, just to remind people he was in the room. "I know you all think I'm an authority on women-"

Ted interrupted Jack. "We think that only because you jammed that nugget of information down our throats. Either you are or you aren't. Which is it?"

Ted's voice was so testy, Jack frowned. "Well, Mr. Investigative Reporter, I see your knickers are in a knot, and would it be because Isabelle, Mrs. Isabelle Tookus, is going to be staying at Maggie's house, which means you won't be staying there? Ah, I see I hit it right."