Georgetown, Washington D. C.
Early in the month of June
Chapter One
Jackie Porter hoped she didn't embarrass herself by falling
to her knees before her idol and kissing her hem. It was a
distinct possibility, one she faced with a mixture of dread
and amusement, but what was she to do? General Jennifer
Napier was what Jackie wanted to be in twenty years - a
woman successful in her own right.
For Jackie would succeed in her own right, also. As she
inched forward in the line that wound through the trendy
Georgetown bookstore, she clutched her well-read copy of
the general's autobiography and a copy of the new release,
a book which clearly delineated and explained the
principles by which General Napier had become a success.
All the while, Jackie cherished the bright spark of hope
General Jennifer Napier had created in her.
General Napier had lost her parents in horrible
circumstances - just like Jackie. She had been raised in a
series of foster homes - just like Jackie. She had made
mistakes in her youth, mistakes so dreadful she didn't
believe she could ever recover from the disgrace and the
shame - just like Jackie. Yet she had turned her life
around, gone to West Point, joined the military, and was
now the highest ranking female general in the U. S. Army.
Jackie looked up at the huge photo hanging over the table
where General Napier was signing books.
General Jennifer Napier was fifty-five, an attractive woman
with piercing blue eyes and dark, graying hair swept up and
under her military hat. She exercised every morning,
sternly regimenting her body to the peak of health. She was
an acknowledged sharpshooter. She lived by the tenets of
discipline which she outlined in her book.
Now Jackie lived by them, too. She exercised every day. She
practiced shooting and self-defense. She kept her eyes
fixed to her goal and let nothing - not friendship, fun or
romance - get in her way.
General Napier had never married, dedicating her life to
her career, and although Jackie had chosen a different
career - horticulture - she dedicated her life to building
a successful landscaping business in the Washington D.C.
area. She was doing well for a poor, orphan girl from
Texas. And if sometimes at night she ached with loneliness,
and remembered her one, dreadful mistake with a little too
much fondness โฆ well, in the daylight she had the life she
had made for herself, and that was enough.
Now Jackie waited in line to thank General Napier for her
guidance. Craning her neck to see past the other women in
line, she caught her first live glimpse of her hero.
The general looked older and more worn than she did in her
photo, and Jackie thought, "Airbrush."
Then she chided herself for being cynical. After all, the
general had been on an extensive book tour. She'd been
interviewed on television and on radio. She was probably
exhausted. And she was, in every other way, absolutely as
Jackie imagined her. The line inched forward and Jackie's
heart thumped as she came closer.
Jackie had carefully dressed for this moment, wearing a
dark blue skirt and white blouse neatly belted at her waist
and designed to make the most of her five foot seven inch
height and to minimize her lavish bosom. Her sandals were
dark blue and white, flat and conservative. As the general
advised, Jackie's jewelry was traditional, yet expensive:
gold earrings, a gold chain and a plain watch with a black
leather band.
Each woman as she stood before General Napier babbled about
how much she admired the general, saying almost the same
words that Jackie had planned, but when Jackie stepped up
to the table, all of her prepared speech flew right out of
her head. Her fingers trembled as she handed the general
the books.
General Jennifer Napier fixed her in her gaze. "What's your
name?"
"Pep โฆ" She caught herself. "Jackie. Jackie Porter." She
must be really rattled - she'd almost given the general her
real name.
"How do you spell that, Jackie?"
"J-a-c-k-i-e P-o-r-t-e-r."
"Do you want me to say anything special? Happy birthday? Or
โฆ?"
"No. No, I just wanted to say -" Oh, dear, she was going to
fall on her knees and kiss the general's hem.
General Napier opened the new book and started
signing. "Yes?"
"I just โฆ just โฆ" - come on, Jackie, spit it out - "I
wanted to tell you how much you inspired me. I'm โฆ I was
from โฆ I'm from Texas, and I was raised in foster homes
just like you. I just โฆ I messed up a lot, and when I read
your autobiography I felt as if we were soul sisters."
The general was nodding, listening as she signed her name
with a flourish, then went on to the autobiography and
signed her name again. "I'm glad I could help. That's why I
wrote the books. I felt I had something to say." Once again
she fixed her gaze on Jackie, and folded her hands on the
table before her. "It's important that no matter what the
obstacles before you, that you never give up."
"I know!" Speech was becoming easier. "When you said in
your book, 'I've disappointed people who believed in me,
and I've disappointed myself, and I owe it to them and most
of all to myself to become a success,' that struck a chord
in me."
"Really!" General Napier's gaze warmed as she listened to
Jackie. "I'm so flattered that you've memorized my words."
"I've memorized all of your tenets for living. You see, my
father was a minister, and I was eight when the police came
and said he and my mother had been killed after embezzling
funds from their church. The authorities separated me from
my sisters and my foster brother, and my sister helped
them. I was so angry I wanted to make the rest of the world
pay for my grief." The people in the line behind Jackie
were getting restive, and the lady who was handing the
general the books looked as if she were about to interrupt,
so Jackie talked faster. "I threw tantrums, I got tattoos,
I ran away from the foster homes, I shoplifted -"
"I never got a tattoo," the general said reflectively, "but
otherwise it does sound familiar."
"I had one foster mother who tried to straighten me out,
but I was too far gone."
The general nodded. "You had to straighten yourself out."
"Exactly! And I did, and I have, but one day when I got
lonely and discouraged, I found your book and it was as if
you were speaking to me."
General Napier's bodyguard stood on her left - Jackie
recognized him from his picture in the book, he'd been with
the general for five years, his name was Otto Bjerke - and
he looked grim, as if he'd heard too many tales like hers
and believed none of them.
Jackie didn't care. The general was interested, her eyes
sparkling as she listened. "I have to thank you for more
than simply support and inspiration. You said you couldn't
have done it without the help of God, and I โฆ since my
parents died and I lost my family, I refused to go to
church. Because of you, I got my faith back, and for that I
can't thank you enough."
General Napier offered her hand, and when Jackie took it,
the general pressed it between both of hers. Tears sparkled
on her lashes as she said, "It's stories like yours that
make all the difficulty of writing worthwhile. Thank you
for telling me. I really appreciate it."
Tears sparkled in Jackie's eyes, too. "No, thank you."
General Napier released her hand.
Jackie picked up her book.
And her moment was over
.
As she moved away from the table, she tingled with
excitement. The meeting had been everything she'd hoped.
She'd made the general happy, and made herself happy in the
process. That was one of the general's tenets. Give
generously of compliments where they're due, and the
pleasure you'll see on their receipt will return to you
doubled. Once again the general had been right.
As Jackie moved through the bookstore, she eyed the stack
of General Napier's new release - and realized she should
have bought a copy for Mrs. Dreiss. It would be Mrs.
Dreiss's birthday in less than two weeks, and those two
women - Mrs. Dreiss, who had taken in a rebellious foster
child, and General Napier - reminded her of each other in
their strict moral code and their common sense sayings.
More important, she needed to send Mrs. Dreiss occasional
indications of her affection. She hadn't gone back to see
her. She just โฆ hadn't gone yet. She couldn't face the
memories, or the chance she might meet him there, so she
told herself that next year, she would go and visit, and in
the meantime, she sent presents.
Guilt drove Pepper.
Grabbing a copy of the general's book, she whirled and
started back toward the table - and stopped. General Napier
was speaking to someone else, signing for someone else. The
line wound around the entire bookstore, and there was no
way Jackie could start at the back and make it through
before her appointment with Mrs. Maile to discuss her
landscaping.
Catching one of the clerks as he hurried past, Jackie
asked, "How long will General Napier be here?"
"Until everyone's had their books autographed." He
indicated the line with a grin. "That'll be a while. Isn't
she great? Usually the authors only stay for an hour or
two, but she says if people come and stand in line for her,
they're going to get their books signed."
"She is great," Jackie agreed fervently. "How long do you
figure it's going to be?"
He studied the line. "Two hours at least."
She glanced at her watch. Mrs. Maile wasn't more than a
mile away, her Georgetown yard was tiny and exclusive, and
if Jackie bought the new book now and hurried through her
consultation, she could probably make it back to the
bookstore and get another autograph from General Jennifer
Napier. Grabbing a book, she thrust it at him. "Ring this
up. I'll come back for her autograph as soon as I can."
#
Mrs. Maile insisted on looking at every garden in every
yard design magazine she owned, and she owned quite a few.
The hour Jackie imagined turned into two. By the time she
ran back through the Georgetown thoroughfares, streetlights
were popping on one by one in the late June twilight. She
arrived in time to see the clerk flip the "Closed" sign on
the door. She held the three books with one arm, the stitch
in her side with the other, and stared in a kind of frozen
despair. She had thought of several more things she wanted
to say to General Napier, important things, things she
could say in the time it took the general to autograph Mrs.
Dreiss's book.
But she couldn't now.
General Napier was off to the last stop on her book tour.
Off to New York City, where she would be feted by her
publisher like the goddess she was.
Jackie breathed hard, fighting the disappointment. Then she
remembered - obstacles were there to be overcome. General
Napier said so. This wasn't a disaster, it was an obstacle,
and Jackie could overcome it with a little intelligence.
God knew she'd had to do some quick thinking at other
times. Times when quick thinking had probably saved her
life. Compared to those moments, this was easy.
Turning, she strode toward the parking garage under the
building. General Napier's car might still be parked there.
Jackie would hand her a pen and Mrs. Dreiss's book, the
general could sign it while Jackie wouldn't say anything
else because that would be tarnishing a blessing - that was
what General Napier called it when one tried to take
advantage of a kind act - and Jackie would be on her way
with autographed books and a happy heart.
The garage was gray concrete and reinforced steel, half-
full of cars and SUVs, including one long black car with
government plates. The general hadn't left yet.
Jackie put her hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of
relief
.
The fluorescent bulbs overhead threw light and shadows
across floor and ceiling. Heat and air conditioning runs
hung high and close to the ceiling by metal straps, and the
place smelled of tires and dust
.
Jackie's footsteps echoed up and around. Feeling suddenly
foolish, she stopped behind a pillar and considered whether
she had the nerve to approach General Napier while her
attachรฉ looked on. It wasn't that she didn't like Otto
Bjerke; in her book, General Napier had spoken highly of
him. Yet Jackie's confessions had seemed to neither
interest or convince him.
Perhaps he'd been instructed to stop troublesome fans.
Embarrassment crawled along her nerves. Was she being too
pushy?
The elevator doors opened. She heard footsteps, Otto
Bjerke's heavy ones and the general's lighter ones. She
heard General Napier's voice saying, "That went well, and
we still have time for dinner."
Jackie knew if she didn't at least try to get that
signature, she'd never forgive herself. She had to try. She
started to step out from behind the pillar, when Otto's
footsteps stopped, and in a low, serious voice, he
said, "Look, General, I've been trying to get up the nerve
to say this for a week."
General Napier's footsteps stopped, also. "What's wrong?"
She seemed alert, concerned.
His deep voice rumbled in the stillness. "I know what
you're doing."
Jackie froze into absolute immobility. He sounded serious,
accusatory. She had inadvertently stepped into a tense
moment.
"What are you talking about?" General Napier's voice became
clipped, too. "What do you mean, you know what I've been
doing?"
"I was working late. I heard you talking on your private
line."
General Napier snapped, "Major, what are you trying to say?"
Most of Jackie's early years had been spent with the scent
of danger in her nostrils. She smelled its acrid odor now.
"You're selling information to the terrorists." Otto Bjerke
sounded calm and businesslike as he made the dreadful
accusation. "General Napier, I'm going to have to turn you
in."
A heavy silence followed. Jackie held her breath as she
waited to hear General Napier deny it, explain โฆ
"I don't suppose it would be any use telling you I'm part
of counter-intelligence," she said softly.
He sounded sad. "No, General, it wouldn't."
"Or to offer you a cut of the profits. It is a very tidy
sum."
Jackie's heart stopped. Her idol had just admitted her
guilt.
Now Otto Bjerke's voice grew heavy. "General, I've admired
you every day I've worked for you. That's the only reason
I'm giving you warning. I owe you so much."
She sounded ice-cold when she said, "And I owe you."
"General! Ma'am!" Panic sounded in his voice. "Don't -"
The gunshot crashed against Jackie's eardrums.
When the sound had cleared, she heard General Napier
murmur, "You never should have given me warning."
Numb and stupid with terror, Jackie dropped the books.
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