Jack went on. "Okay, Abner, this is my advice. Take it or leave it. When we leave here, we'll be heading out to the farm, and Isabelle will be there, so gird yourself for a meeting. It will be whatever you make it. Invite her out to dinner, and talk like two civilized people who love each other. Forgiveness is a virtue, Abner. In other words, don't cut off your nose to spite your face and chalk it up to your making a statement."

"Yeah, don't do or say anything you'll regret," Dennis said. "You can't take back ugly words once they're said out loud. Women, I'm told, and I can't verify this, have memories like elephants and never forget." Dennis beamed when he saw Harry give him a nod of approval.

Abner looked around at his friends. "Duly noted. Now, do you all want to hear what I've found?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't that why we're here? Let's hear it, Mr. Computer Man," Jack said.

Chapter 9.

Abner flexed his fingers, took a deep breath, and stared at his guests, who were looking at him in awe, absolutely convinced that he had something very big to report. Of course, the maniacal look in his eye totally confirmed what they were all thinking.

Abner pinwheeled his arms and smacked his hands together in glee. "This guy is so damn rich, I got dizzy just looking at the numbers. He's got some sharp people taking care of business, too. I can't wait to give it all away. The short version is this guy is a billionaire, like, a thousand times over. That might be a slight exaggeration, but he could whittle down our national debt in the blink of an eye. We might want to think about that when it comes time to settle up. Or maybe bail out Texas!"

"We knew Spyder was rich. Is that all you got?" Ted demanded.

"Patience, patience, my friend. As you can see by the way I look, I have been on the computer for over thirty-six hours, with no sleep and very little nourishment. When I saw what I saw, I just kept at it, and this is what I found. Gather close, boys."

"Jesus, Abner, will you just spit it out? We're flying blind here," Jack said.

Abner took one look at Harry's unhappy face and started talking. Being the subject of an attack by the world's leading martial arts master held no appeal to him.

"Okay, okay, I was able to find out the ownership of all the properties on Spyder Island. Except one. Annie was right when she said the richest people on earth own those properties. At first, I thought it was an empty house. But then I started checking the utility and tax bills. They're paid in cash. That means green money. There is no name on the utility or tax bills. Just the address. The bills are paid January second each year and are paid for a full year. For the last seven or eight years. What do you think of that?"

"And that means what?" Harry demanded, his tone surly.

"Think about it, Harry. How long ago did Hank Jellicoe slip out of the net? Same time frame, if I'm not mistaken. Jellicoe's company, Global something or other . . . The exact name eludes me at the moment, but he and his company did the security for Spyder Island. Back in the day, that is. Fast-forward or go backward to that time, and that's when the security changed to a company called Spyder Island Security. I don't think you need to be a rocket scientist to figure all that out. Right, guys?"

Jack stroked his chin, deep in thought. "Let's run this up the flagpole here. Do we handle this ourselves, or do we tell Jack Sparrow at the FBI? What a coup that would be for Sparrow if he could bring him in. What jurisdiction is Spyder Island in? Is it part of the United States or not? And if it isn't, does that mean the CIA would be the U.S. agency to involve if we don't take care of it ourselves?

"That would make me very unhappy, since the spooks over there hate us. And they hate the FBI even more. Is that who we're going to have to go up against? If it's the FBI's jurisdiction, it would solidify Sparrow's position as the new director like nothing else. The CIA, as I said, is a whole other can of worms."

Abner shrugged his shoulders. "That, Jack, is not my field of expertise."

"The girls are not going to like that scenario no matter how you slice it. Jellicoe has always been a sore point with them. They had him fair and square, and Snowden dropped the ball. Snowden's pants will be on fire where Jellicoe is concerned, but he's smart enough not to make waves or challenge Annie, since she's the one who pays his bills. More or less. Less meaning we pay him out of the mission funds," Ted said.

"No, they're not going to like it one little bit," Jack said.

Cyrus reared up and let loose with a loud bark to second Jack's declaration.

"You got anything else?" Harry asked.

"I do. Spyder Island has its own airport. There are three Sikorsky helicopters and a Gulfstream and a Learjet parked at the hangar this very moment. From time to time, when one of the owners shows up, room is made available for his private plane. It appears to be unusual for all the houses, palaces, estates, or whatever you want to call them, to be inhabited. I'm going by the utility bills. Especially the electricity and the usage. What it looks like to me is that only two of the houses are used on a full-time basis. Spyder's and the supposedly empty one. I take that to mean that the old saying 'The man is an island unto himself' is probably true.

"That's pretty much it, other than I hacked into the records of that Florida hospital and didn't find out much. I copied Gretchen Spyder's medical records. Medical legalese. All bills were paid in cash. She was airlifted via a medical transport plane against the doctor's wishes. Someone signed off on the airlift, but the signature is not legible. There was a handwritten note in the margin, by the doctor, which said that Gretchen did not want to leave and had to be heavily medicated. And underneath that little blurb, two nurses added their names. I think it's called CYA."

"Meaning 'covering their asses,' " Dennis chirped.

"Correct." Abner grinned.

"Well, then, if there's nothing else, let's head out to the farm. You printed all this out, right, Abner?" Jack asked.

"It's all there in the box. Take it with you. I need to take a shower and get a few hours' sleep. I'll meet you all out there later, if that's okay," Abner said anxiously.

"That'll work," Harry said, picking up the box and settling it on his shoulders. "You guys go in the van. I'll leave the box for you to load into it. I'll follow on my Ducati. I need to stop by the dojo first."

Jack and Cyrus were the last to leave. Jack turned to Abner and said, "You did good, Abner. Thanks. Uh . . . hey, listen, I know you're shook up about Isabelle. Don't be. I know this is going to sound strange coming from me, but follow your heart. If it feels right, go for it. If not, no harm, no foul. See ya!"

Cyrus let loose with a series of short barks, then ran over to Abner and put his paws on his shoulders to show his approval.

Abner burst out laughing. "This dog is something else, Jack."

"Yeah, and he can make his bed, fold the towels, and answer the phone, too. Well, what he does is knock the receiver off the cradle and bark. See ya."

Abner was still laughing when he headed for the shower. Go with your heart. Sounds good, he said to himself. Sounds really good.

There were cookies, all manner of snacks, and ice-cold tea and lemonade on the deck when the boys arrived. As always, there was the backslapping, the hugs, and the smiles. And, of course, laughter. Isabelle tried not to look past the sea of human flesh to see if her husband was with the group. Her shoulders sagged, until Espinosa whispered in her ear that Abner had been working 24/7 for the past two days and would be out later, after he got a few hours' sleep and cleaned up. Isabelle smiled up into Espinosa's eyes and patted his back. Nothing more needed to be said.

The group, the gals versus the guys, shared their information.

"So now what?" Jack asked.

All eyes turned to Annie. "Like I'm the sole authority here?" she snapped. "Let's hear some ideas. I'll start it off. I think we girls should head out first and take Mr. Albright, or Mr. Wolansky, as he is now known, with us the day after tomorrow. Two days later, you boys will follow. We'll go in my Gulfstream, and Dennis can have you all ferried in on the Welmed Gulfstream that came with his inheritance. That's for starters.

"There is no housekeeping staff at the island house, so we'll all have to do the work ourselves. It's been closed up for over twenty years, but it has been maintained by my business manager. He told me earlier that the pool is being drained, cleaned, and refilled. Actually, he's there now with his people, seeing to everything. When I say 'His people,' I think those people actually work for Avery Snowden. Once they leave, which is tomorrow, we are on our own. They will make just enough of a fuss so that we're taken seriously when we arrive."

"We have to finish your interviews, Annie. With a picture of you in your tiara." Ted grinned. "Dennis is going to write the article today, and it will run in the morning edition. The AP will pick it up, and Mr. Angus Spyder will see it no matter what paper he reads online. And, hopefully, Mr. Henry 'Call Me Hank' Jellicoe will also see it."

"That all worries me," Nikki said as she nibbled on a nail.

"We're tipping our hand," Kathryn grumbled as she massaged the calf of her leg.

"It's the only way," Myra said. "Hank Jellicoe fell into our laps. We can't change our plans at this stage. Let's all think of him as a bonus. Short of driving around the island with a bullhorn, announcing our arrival, this works best. Will the man dive for cover? I think not. He'll try to take us down. The vigilantes have been a sore point with him from the day we caught him. He wants us as bad as we want him. Don't forget that superior male force he's got by working for Spyder. All those mercenaries. I think it's safe to say there is a price on our heads even now, and we haven't even gotten there yet."

Dennis's eyes popped wide. "You mean like a bounty on our heads? Do we need guns or something? A rocket launcher? How are we going to go up against an army of mercenaries?"

Harry fixed his gaze on Dennis and cleared his throat.

Dennis eyeballed him for a nanosecond as he recalled the brutal punishment his body had endured under Harry's tutelage to earn his colored belt. "We're up to it because each of us is our own army, right, Harry?"

Harry smiled the special evil smile that drove fear into the hearts of those seeing it.

"Who needs an army when you have a Harry Wong on your side?" Jack said.

The others all agreed. Harry bowed low at the praise. Yoko clapped the loudest and winked at her husband. Everyone in the room was well aware that Yoko could wipe up the floor with Harry. And Harry was no exception.

Dennis leaned back and closed his eyes as he tried to plot out a scenario where he was his own army and was going after all the Spyder Island badasses and winning.

"I think we should adjourn to the war room, where we can view maps of the island and all this paperwork you brought with you. By the time we get off the plane, I want all of us to know the island like the backs of our hands. Know it well enough that we won't get lost in the dark or, worse yet, blindsided. Do you all understand what I'm saying?" Annie said.

The others nodded their understanding.

Nikki led the way to the living room and the bookcase that would, with the press of a button, lead them to the catacombs beneath the old farmhouse.

"Abner isn't here yet," Dennis said.

"No, but Cyrus is. He knows how to push the right button. So does Lady. Not to worry. Abner will find us," Jack said.

Jack rummaged in Myra's tiny kitchen office for the papers she'd sent him upstairs to fetch. He looked up when he saw the dogs streak past him to the door. Ah, Abner had arrived. He unlocked the door, slid the security bolt, and opened the door wide. He waited while Abner tussled with all the dogs for a few minutes before he commented on his friend's appearance.

"You didn't sleep, did you? You spent your time picking just the right outfit to impress Isabelle and standing in front of a mirror, rehearsing what you plan to say when you're eyeball to eyeball. Right?"

Abner shifted from one foot to the other. "Damn, Ted was right. You do know everything, don't you? What did I do to give it away?"

"You look like shit, that's why. Any other time, you would have arrived here in your worn-out jeans with the holes in the knees, that ratty Duke University T-shirt, and boat shoes. Look at you. Pressed khakis, white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled just so, fresh from the dry cleaners, no less, and your Brooks Brothers loafers. How'm I doing so far, Abner? Oh, and you smell good, too."

"Eat shit, Jack. So what?" Abner said, going into a defensive mode.

"That's Harry's line, Abner. He says that to me all the time. Listen to me. This is what you're going to do when we get back downstairs. You are going to walk right by Isabelle, and I'll tell you where she's seated so you can get a good frontal view. You strut in there like you're king of the road and say to her, 'Lookin' good, Izz,' and keep right on going to take Charles's place on the dais. I gotta tell you, she does look good, thinner and a little tired looking, but still good.

"Now, that's my advice. You gotta know the girls are giving Isabelle advice, too, so bear that in mind. If she winks at you, just grin. If she smiles, nod. Don't give an inch until you feel comfortable with the situation. I know you want to grab her and kiss her till her teeth rattle or chew her clothes off, but you cannot do that. You didn't do anything wrong. Isabelle abandoned you in favor of her career. You are not chopped liver, Abner. You getting all this now, or are you going to screw it up?"

Cyrus nipped at Abner's leg, a warning that he had better not screw it up. Lady dribbled on the Brooks Brothers loafers to show she was also in agreement.

"I am not going to screw it up, Jack. If I do, you can shoot me."

Jack snorted. "Don't think I won't. Okay, take deep breaths and let's move. Remember, you're king of the road. You and you alone. No one else. Focus. Keep taking deep breaths."

"I got it, Jack!" Abner said through clenched teeth. He knew he was lying, and he knew that Jack knew he was lying. Shit!

Five minutes later, Jack yelled, "Coming through. And Abner is here!" He saw it all in a nanosecond: Isabelle sat up straighter, and the girls all focused on her as Alexis nudged her slightly, probably as a reminder to do whatever they had told her to do. If he saw it all, then dumb-ass Abner should have seen it, too.

Jack sucked in a deep breath just as Abner said, "Lookin' good, Izz," as his long legs carried him across the room and up the two steps to the dais like he belonged. Jack wanted to hug him. Especially when he saw the stunned looks of surprise on all the women's faces. Evidently, Abner saw the same looks, because he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Score one for the Gipper," Jack muttered under his breath. He turned to see his wife glaring at him. Ooh, this wasn't over. Somehow, someway, those women were going to make him pay for this one up for the man that he'd just pulled off.

Sensing the tension in the room, Myra took control of the meeting, which hadn't really been a meeting thus far, but a gabfest. "Time to get back to work here, boys and girls. Let's review your assignments and get this show on the road. When we step onto that plane for Spyder Island, I want us all on the same page. Who wants to go first?"

Dennis raised his hand. "I should. I think. If Annie's last interview will be the lead story in tomorrow's paper, then we need to get it started right now. Espinosa is going to be taking pictures." He looked at Annie and demanded, "Where's your tiara?"

"At home, in my jewelry box. I suppose you're going to tell me we need to go there so I can gussy up."

Dennis nodded as Espinosa gathered up his gear.

"Okay, that's working for everyone. Next!" Myra said.

Alexis raised her hand. "I'm trying to get my red bag of tricks filled. Charles . . . um . . . used to do that. It's going to take me the rest of the day to get up to snuff. There's no way I'm going to Spyder Island without my bag." To make her point, she whipped out a list that was as long as her arm. "I don't even know if I'm going to be able to get everything I need by overnight delivery. And before any of you ask, no, you can't help me. This is something I have to do myself."

"Duly noted, dear," Myra said generously as she recalled how many times Alexis had saved the day with her red bag of tricks.

Nikki raised her hand. "I'm on Jellicoe. Jack is with me on this. I have a few avenues I want to explore, and Jack can help because he was there at the end."

Maggie went next. "I, along with Ted, am on Gretchen Spyder. Something has been nagging at me, but I can't put my finger on it. We're going to try to get a fix on her from the day she dropped out of the womb. There has to be someone, somewhere, who can help us out here. When it comes right down to it, we really don't know anything about her except for her college years."

"All right, dear. That works. Kathryn?"

"I'm on the wife and mother with Yoko. She wasn't hatched from an egg. Somewhere there is a record of where she came from. We need Abner to point us in the right direction."

Myra nodded.

All eyes turned to Isabelle. In a firm but steady voice, Isabelle said loud enough for Abner to hear, "I thought maybe I could help Abner, if he wants some extra help."

"Sure," Abner bellowed from the dais, where he was busy clicking away at one of the computers.

"And they lived happily ever after," Jack muttered under his breath.

"Guess I'm odd man out," Harry said.

"Oh, no, dear. I am assigning you to Avery Snowden. If he gives you any trouble, you have my permission to . . . um . . . take him out," Myra said.

Harry grinned his special evil grin. He loved to torment Avery Snowden, and here he was, actually being given permission to take his sorry ass out. He could do that blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back. Oh, life was looking better and better.

"What are you going to do, Myra?" Nikki asked.

"I am going to get in touch with Mr. Sparrow. Then I am going to call Mr. Snowden to arrange a phone call with the Domingos. My intuition is telling me that the wife knows something about Gretchen Spyder. I'm not saying she deliberately withheld anything, but I think she might know something and not even realize she knows it, because she didn't think it was important at the time. One woman to another, one mother to another mother, might bring us some bit of news. It's just a thought but worth playing out at the moment.

"Do any of you have any questions? No. All right, then, let's get to work. We have less than forty-eight hours till we leave for Spyder Island. And don't forget, Stephen Wolansky, the baby daddy, will be arriving shortly. Let's get to it, boys and girls."

Chapter 10.

The young woman in the wheelchair turned her head when she heard her name being called. She knew she should smile or at least make the effort to smile, but that was precisely the problem. It took effort-a great deal of effort. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone? She'd come out here to the garden to be by herself so she could read the book in her lap. She'd been reading the same book for over a year now, and if pressed, she couldn't give the name of the book or the author's name if her life depended on it. Once upon a time she had loved to read, had always had her nose in a book. Because . . . by reading she could escape into a make-believe world. Anything, anything at all, was better than the real world in which she lived, then as well as now.

"Good morning, Mother," Gretchen Spyder mumbled. "Do you want something?" How cold that sounded. Like she cared.

"Yes, I do want something, Gretchen. I want my daughter."

"You sure have a funny way of showing up and asking for strange things. Unless you are blind, I am right in front of your eyes. Did he send you out here? Of course he did. Such a stupid question. You never have a thought, an action of your own, just his. You're like a puppet on a string that he jerks when it suits him. I wish you'd stop pretending, Mother. I wouldn't put it past you to be wired for sound. Or maybe the bushes and flowers are wired so he can hear our conversation. Meaning, of course, that you are merely doing what he told you to do. After all, you never do anything else."