Apparently she hadn’t specified they had to be her teeth.
Epilogue
Six months later . . .
Gushing with excitement, Sophie said, “Toots, you’re not going to believe this, but Chris called again and said he’s being flooded with requests for more private tarot readings. It seems that last tartlet I did a reading for told all her friends, and they told their friends, too.”
“That’s fantastic. Now maybe you can open up your own shop. I think the neighbors suspect I’m running a house of ill repute, with all your nighttime clients popping in and out during the wee hours,” Toots said.
“I may have to consider doing just that,” Sophie said, tongue in cheek.
They were sitting on the beach in their two favorite beach chairs, only this time they had both wrapped themselves in one of those newfangled Snuggies that were all the rage. Late fall in California was chilly this year.
“I think this is going to be a thriving business for you. It’s funny how we’ve all managed to branch out on our own these past eighteen months. First, Mavis and those damned mourning clothes. Ida and her Drop-Dead cosmetics. And now you, giving advice to the stars. Who woulda thunk it?”
“And you forgot to mention you’re now half owner of Charleston’s hottest new bakery. Don’t forget that. And what about the number one tabloid in the nation? You can’t forget that, either.”
“No, I can’t. I would kill for one of those pralines right now, but with Mavis and her constant nagging, I don’t think she will let me get away with eating too much junk. I saw her adding granola to my box of Froot Loops the other day. You do realize I created a monster when I decided to help her? In a nice way, of course.”
“And it was for your own good,” Mavis said, sneaking up behind them with two folding chairs. “I want you to be around for a long time. I certainly would hate it if I had to lay you out. Oh dear, I don’t think I could stand to do that!”
“Keep putting granola in Toots’s Froot Loops and she’ll kill you. You won’t have to worry about laying her out,” Sophie said, a puff of smoke coming from her mouth with each word.
Ida tromped down the steps leading to the beach, then sat in the chair next to Mavis. She’d brought a thermos of coffee; Mavis had the cups.
“I was just wishing for a cup of coffee,” Toots said. “You must be a mind reader.”
“That would be Sophie,” Ida said.
“You’re all wrong. I’m not a mind reader. Just highly intuitive, that’s all.”
A chill breeze blew in from the ocean, waves splashing back and forth, the scent of wood smoke wafting in the air while they each relaxed, enjoying the moment.
“I have a surprise for you all,” Mavis said. She retrieved a large paper bag that she’d managed to bring down to the beach without anyone noticing. She emptied its contents on her chair.
“Please don’t ask me to model for one of your death brochures again.” Sophie grimaced. “I was the laughingstock of every funeral parlor across the country.”
And she had been, just not in the sense she was alluding to. Morticians and undertakers from across the country wanted to know exactly how Mavis had managed to make a dead woman look so beautiful, and so alive. Mavis had confessed that her model was very much alive. Once that became known, Mavis had started receiving e-mails from all over the world, asking her the name of her model. In response, she said that she would forward them to the model, which she did, allowing Sophie to do as she pleased. Sophie had eyes for one man only. Goebel. He’d been to California twice since they’d caught Nancy.
“I saw this at the grocery store this morning and thought it would be perfect for a night like tonight.” Mavis revealed a disposable charcoal grill. Next were the makings for s’mores.
“This is perfect. I can’t remember the last time I had s’mores. Mavis, you’re a good egg, you know that?” Toots said. “How did I ever get so lucky to find the three greatest friends, and godmothers for Abby?”
“You’re really including Ida in the equation?” Sophie smarted off, though she was laughing when she said it. She wasn’t quite the smart aleck of times past.
They all laughed.
“Yes, I am including Ida in the equation, and you, too,” Toots singsonged.
Mavis followed the directions on the mini-grill, and within minutes they had their own fire burning. Using forks, they all stuffed a giant marshmallow on the tines, each toasting her own. Toots passed out squares of chocolate, and Ida snapped graham crackers in half. When their forks held a mess of sugary goo, they pressed it between the chocolate and the cracker.
“Damn, this is to die for,” Toots said, biting into the delicious sweetness. “Not as good as Jamie’s pralines, but good.”
Sophie nodded, munching with her mouth full. “I can’t think of anything I’ve enjoyed as much today. Foodwise.”
“Are you implying there is something else you’ve enjoyed that we don’t know about?” Ida asked, raising her perfectly manicured brow. “Surely you’re not having thoughts of having a fling with Goebel. I thought you hated men.”
“I do, most of them. Not that it’s any of your business, but Goebel and I are just friends. For now. I told him right up front that I did not want to get involved in a romantic relationship. Then I told him what happened with you and that phony doctor. He said he was perfectly fine to be friends. For now.”
A buzzing from Sophie’s pocket put a halt to further conversation. She held up her hand, indicating she needed a minute.
“Yes, this is Sophie Manchester. Yes. Well, I did help Lana Lowery with her career, or rather my tarot reading led her to make the right career decision. Yes, I’ll hold.” Sophie placed her hand over the cell phone’s mouthpiece. She shrugged her shoulders, letting them know she didn’t have a clue who she was speaking to. “Yes, I’m still here.” Sophie paused for several seconds. “Are you trying to yank my chain? If you are, I’ll cast a . . . What? You’re serious, aren’t you? Yes, ma’am. Of course. I would be honored. I can leave and be there immediately. You’ll do what?” Sophie turned ten shades of white. “Yes, ma’am. You can count on it. Uh . . . good-bye.” The cell phone fell out of Sophie’s hand, landing in the wet sand.
“Sophie, you look like you’re going to faint. Are you?” Toots asked, scooting to the edge of her chair. “If you are, let me know so I can get out of the way.”
“You’re not going to believe who just called,” Sophie said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“You’re probably right, but tell us, anyway,” Ida said.
“That was the governor’s mansion in Sacramento. It seems that the first spouse of California has requested a reading from me. It seems like my fame has spread. Oh my God! The personal secretary said they’ll send for me, and they would appreciate it if I would not blather. . . . That’s what she actually had the nerve to say, blather about this to . . . the tabloids. Pinch me, girls!”
All four women were truly stunned. Several minutes passed before any of them could talk, and when they did, it was the most natural thing in the world for them to place their hands on top of one another’s, lift them to the sky, and shout, “When you’re good, you’re good!”
Lady Baltimore Cake/Bernice’s Death Cake
Ingredients
Cake:
½ cup butter
1 ½ cups sugar
1 cup water
3 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
4 egg whites, stiffly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Frosting and Filling:
1 ½ cups sugar
cup water
2 teaspoons light corn syrup
2 egg whites
teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ cup chopped pecans
¼ cup chopped figs
¼ cup raisins
¼ cup candied cherries
¼ cup candied pineapple
Preparation
Cake:
In a mixing bowl with an electric mixer, cream butter and sugar. Add water gradually, and then add flour and baking powder. Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites and vanilla. Bake in three buttered and floured cake pans in a 375°F oven.
Frosting and Filling:
Combine sugar, water, and corn syrup in a saucepan. Cook, stirring, over low heat until sugar is dissolved. Bring to a boil and boil to 240°F. Meanwhile, when syrup reaches about 234°F, beat egg whites until stiff peaks form. Add salt. Remove syrup from the heat when 240°F is reached and immediately pour a very thin stream over stiffly beaten egg whites and salt, beating constantly. Add vanilla. Continue beating until frosting cools and is of spreading consistency, about ten minutes.
Add chopped fruits and nuts to about a third of the frosting mixture to use as a filling between the cake layers. Frost the sides and top.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2010 by MRK Productions Fern Michaels is a Registered Trademark of First Draft, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010942792
ISBN: 978-0-7582-7450-2
Late Edition Page 25
