Page 25 of Smuggler's Cove
When the bus arrived at 57th Street, Madison exited through the side door and walked east. She slowed as she approached the neighborhood, looking in each direction for gossip predators. But was it gossip? She remembered laughing with Olivia, “If it’s true, then it isn’t gossip.” Madison knew her world was changing at a rapid pace. She hoped she could keep up.
Madison was relieved to see her brother waiting at the front entrance. He was chatting with Reggie, the door attendant. Neither of them looked dismayed or bothered. Lincoln was smiling and nodding. That’s her brother—relaxed, cool. Of the two of them, he represented calm. Not that Madison would become hysterical; she was simply more animated. She kept her head down, and her eyes darted side to side. “There she is,” Lincoln announced, and put his arm around her shoulders. “Good talking to you, Reggie. See you in a bit.” Madison was always impressed by how mature her brother appeared, and his impeccable manners. It was Hackley. And their mother. Gwen taught them about having good manners at an early age.
“Hey, Reggie,” Madison managed with a strained smile.
“Good afternoon, Miss Madison.” Reggie always referred to her asMissbefore her first name. It started when she was around twelve. One afternoon he referred to her as Miss Taylor. Madison insisted he call her Madison, so they compromised with “Miss Madison.” Reggie was a good old transplanted southern gentleman. She had no idea how old he was. Her grandfather’s age?
Reggie opened the door for the siblings, who moved swiftly to the front desk where a U.S. Marshal waited. One of the prune-faced co-op board members gave them the stink eye as she passed them on her way out. “Hello, Mrs. Greenwood.” Lincoln paid no attention to the old battle ax’s sour puss. She huffed a response. Lincoln elbowed Madison, who bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Lincoln and Madison showed the marshal their IDs, and the three approached the elevator bank. When they exited on their floor, Madison let out a big whoosh of air. “That is something I am not going to miss. Old crabby cakes.”
“The building is filled with them. Or had you not noticed?” Lincoln joked. The marshal smiled at him. Lincoln went on to say, “I suppose this isn’t the best time to be joking, but under the circumstances, it’s better than crying.”
The marshal simply nodded at the two young adults. They did not seem the least bit smug or spoiled, something he would have anticipated, given the surroundings. Another guard was sitting in the hallway. The two greeted each other, and the guard unlocked the apartment door. “I’m sorry, but I am going to have to escort both of you to your rooms and monitor what you pack. Who wants to go first?”
“She’ll take the longest, so let’s start with her,” Lincoln said, jerking his thumb at his sister.
“Ha ha. Very funny,” Madison deadpanned. She looked at the agent and nodded ahead. “My room’s this way.” The three climbed the stairs to the second floor. Lincoln leaned against the doorjamb, while Madison tossed a few pairs of jeans, blazers, T-shirts, and underwear into a Gucci suitcase. Then she stopped abruptly. “Is it alright for me to use this bag?” Not that she had any alternatives. The marshal gave her an affirmative shrug. He could tell these kids were victims of their father’s wrongdoings. It was not their fault that the world as they knew it was coming to an abrupt halt. Chances were good their father would be spending a long stint behind bars. The government usually does not go after high-profile people unless they have a good case; otherwise, it would be a waste of valuable resources.
Madison went into her private bathroom and piled her makeup and beauty products into a travel bag. Then she continued to pack her leather boots, loafers, and a pair of sneakers. She knew she could not bring her entire wardrobe with her. “Will I be able to come back for some of my things at a later date?”
“It’s possible, but you may have to get a court order,” the agent replied.
Madison’s stomach turned.A court order?Things were getting more complicated. She checked and double-checked for things she could not live without, including Mr. Jinx and the collage. She tucked both precious pieces under her arm and left the suitcase at the top of the stairs. “That should be it for me. Lead the way, dear brother.”
The three walked down the hallway to Lincoln’s room. While Madison’s room reflected her artistic flair, her brother’s was more minimalist. Lincoln took little time packing a few shirts, slacks, jeans, jackets, underwear, and socks. He tossed his Dopp kit on top of his clothes and zipped up the Tumi luggage. He also did a quick once-around to be sure he was not leaving anything important behind. Unlike his father, Lincoln was not interested in gold cufflinks, heavy link bracelets, or pinky rings. The only piece of jewelry he owned was a Cartier watch like his sister’s. It was a gift from his mother when he graduated from Hackley.
“That should do it for me.” Lincoln heaved the bag off the bed and started back toward the stairs. “I suppose you want me to carry that for you?” he half-joked with his sister.
“I’ll get it,” the marshal offered. Again, he was beginning to feel sorry for them.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Madison decided it was time to navigate one of her fears and turned toward the agent. “Do you think there will be any press?”
“Not yet, but certainly after the evening news. If you feel you are being harassed or stalked, let me know, and I will try to arrange for security.” He handed her his card, and then gave one to Lincoln.
The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. It was one thing to hear about it over the phone. It was another when you were rushed into packing your necessities for what could be the last time. The apartment was eerily quiet. They had no time to prepare for this separation. Emotionally, intellectually, or physically. Their lives had been driven off a cliff. The only thing they could do was pray for a soft landing. Not that there was any expectation of going back to the way things were. There was no doubt that wasn’t going to happen. They would have to be able to brush off the dust, heal their wounds, and move on with life with as few scars as possible.
Madison was much more concerned about her mother. She was the one who spent the last twenty-two years living in a fantasy world. Of course, Madison existed in a world of plenitude, but attending Hackley during the week removed her from the twenty-four-seven, in-your-face opulence. Her personal surroundings at Hackley were minimal. Her schedule, demanding. Madison knew she had many more years to recover from this humiliation and degradation. Her mother? Sure, Gwen could be steely. But she was also human.
As they were about to enter the elevator, the agent drew his cuff to his face and spoke into his shirtsleeve. “All clear?” It was then when both Lincoln and Madison noticed the earpiece. They were too engrossed in what they had to do in a short amount of time to pay attention to the marshal’s head. They looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
The agent looked at them just before the doors opened into the lobby. “Follow me. Speak to no one.”
Madison started to get nervous.Here it comes. But when the doors opened, there was only one scraggly-looking guy with a camera and a portable recording device. “Excuse me! Excuse me! Are you the Taylor kids?” In one way, she was relieved to find there was a lone reporter waiting. But in another way, she knew this was just the beginning.
The marshal got between the overzealous reporter and the siblings. He did not have to say a word. The reporter immediately backed away when the agent stared him down. He opened the service door. “Wait here,” he instructed, indicating they should stand against the wall. Madison and Lincoln said nothing and did what they were told. The marshal counted for about twenty seconds. He looked through the small window of the door. “He’s gone around to the side. We are going out the front.”
The agent got another “all-clear” from the other marshal who was standing with the door attendant. They hustled to the cab Reggie hailed for them. The trunk was open and ready for their luggage. Reggie quickly opened the rear passenger door, and the two hurried in. As Reggie began to close the door of the taxi, Madison let the tears roll. She squeaked out, “Thanks for everything, Reggie. I am going to miss you.”
“I shall miss you too, Miss Madison.” He leaned into the window. “Good luck to you. And your mother.” He tapped the roof of the taxi, as it pulled out of the circular drive.
Madison tried to keep herself from sobbing, but holding back gave her the hiccups. Lincoln put his arm around her. “It’s going to be okay, sis.”
Madison rested her head on his shoulder. “I hope you’re right.”
The driver looked into the rearview mirror. “Where to, kids?”
Lincoln turned and peered through the rear window of the cab. He, too, was beginning to understand how exposed they would be for the next few days. Probably more.
