The B Girls

by Cari Cole

  Description

  The B Girls. Three desperate suburbanites hunt for a missing national treasure.

  A beloved aunt is being held by kidnappers and a missing copy of the Declaration of Independence is the ransom. Lucy Deen, Mae Taylor and Jane Pepper embark on a treasure hunt with Aunt Belle’s life in the balance. Along they way they learn they’re a lot stronger than they ever dreamed. From Pine Bluff Estates to Spikes Tattoos to an unexplored cave, The B Girls hunt for the Declaration while declaring their own independence.

  The B Girls

  by Cari Cole

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Description 2

  The B Girls 3

  by Cari Cole 3

  Table of Contents 4

  Lucy Deen Acts Fishy 6

  Jane Pepper Blows a Deal 10

  Mae Taylor Cleans Up 13

  Woe Is Us 18

  Boot Scoot Boogie 22

  The Truth As We Know It 24

  The B Girls 31

  Actions And Reactions 38

  And They're Off 43

  Have Your Cake 47

  Flirting Empty Handed 57

  Theories 62

  Break A Leg 75

  Mothers and Lovers 83

  There There Little Lady 95

  The Sound of Other Voices 105

  Copy Machine 111

  Flashback 120

  Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance 129

  Rappel 135

  The Crack Of Doom 144

  Skinny Dipping In The Dark 149

  Are We Dead Yet? 155

  No, Really, The Crack Of Doom 164

  Wonderland 172

  Final Exam 179

  Water Water Everywhere 189

  This Time I Know I'm Dead 194

  I'll Take That 197

  No Way In Hell 204

  The Cavalry 210

  The Why Of It 215

  Aftermath 218

  Independence Day 224

  Also By Cari Cole 227

  Lucy Deen Acts Fishy

  Lucy Deen steadied the ugly black automatic pistol in a two-handed grip and lined up the sights on the shiny iridescent bass body. She blinked away angry tears that threatened to ruin her aim and squeezed the trigger.

  The fish exploded in a shower of ruined scales and fins that floated down like some sort of bizarre confetti.

  The recoil knocked her arms up, staggering her. She struggled to brace her legs but the hardwood under her Topsiders wasn't as steady and solid as it had been fifteen minutes ago. Her knees buckled and she sat down hard, threadbare denim and Victoria Secret panties did nothing to cushion the blow to her tailbone. Adrenalin fueled anger blunted the pain instead.

  "What the fuck was that?" Gary Deen shouted from the other side of the door.

  Lucy took aim on Gary's most prized trophy--a freakishly large marlin, frozen in a permanent writhing leap from the ocean with a hook and a length of heavy fishing line dripping from its mouth.

  Gary appeared in the doorway of his study just as Lucy pulled the trigger a second time shattering the lacquered body of the marlin like an eggshell. Bits of marlin confetti rained down to join the bass confetti on the study floor.

  "You crazy bitch!" Gary screamed. "What do you think you're doing?"

  Sitting on the floor amid glittering fish parts, Lucy looked up at her husband. "I thought this was 'do the most damaging and destructive thing you can think of' day. Did I get it wrong?"

  "You're insane. Those trophies are irreplaceable."

  "Oh, come on Gary, didn't you just get finished telling me there are other fish in your sea?" She sighted again and another bass exploded.

  Gary took two aggressive steps toward Lucy.

  She swung the gun in his direction, pointing it in the general area of his dick. "If you want to maintain your ability to spawn you'd better back off."

  Gary froze in his tracks and Lucy breathed a secret sigh of relief. If she'd been forced to shoot him she'd probably have gotten arrested and a body cavity search would have taken all the fun out of castrating him.

  "Don't think I'm letting you get away with this," Gary said. "I was prepared to make a reasonable offer for support in the divorce settlement. Now, I'll be happy to see you broke. And don't think I'm going to let you keep the house either."

  Lucy shifted her aim up toward his chest and studied him, fascinated by the vein throbbing at his temple and the way his mouth opened and closed without sound. He looked just like one of the fish. "Get out before I decide it's worth it."

  He did the smart thing and left the room. Lucy heard him pause at the foot of the stairs to pick up his suitcase and a few seconds later the sound of the garage door going up and the BMW's engine coming to life.

  Thirty seconds after he left the room, the last sounds of Gary's leaving faded.

  Lucy put the pistol on the floor between her outstretched legs and held her breath, listening to the pounding of her heart, waiting for a feeling to replace her spent rage. For several long second there was nothing, just emptiness.

  Last week her home had been filled with the sounds of hope and joy. Ryan and his friends spending their last days of summer talking about the anticipated wonders of college life.

  Ryan left for the University of Georgia yesterday leaving quiet in his wake.

  Two minutes ago Gary walked out after announcing he was filing for divorce.

  Her home was now an utterly silent, oversized mausoleum.

  Lucy's stomach rolled.

  She ran for the closest bathroom and threw up, repeatedly and violently.

  Face to face with the toilet bowl, it suddenly occurred to her that she'd be able to go into any bathroom in the house in the dark and sit on the toilet without fear of falling in. No more pee drips on the outside of the toilet bowls or the bathroom rugs.

  She considered the possibility she was going a little nuts. Thinking about toilet seats and piss couldn't be normal when you'd just been told your twenty-one year old marriage was over.

  When the dry heaves subsided, she rinsed out her mouth with minty-fresh mouthwash and splashed water on her face.

  She recognized the cold, hard ball in the pit of her stomach--it was fear. Looking into the mirror above the sink, she was surprised to find the woman looking back at her didn't look twenty.

  She looked like a terrified forty-five year old. Her freckles had faded over time to be replaced by "fine lines and wrinkles".

  How could she look so old when she still felt exactly like she had at twenty?

  And what the hell was she supposed to do now with no one to take care of except herself?

  Twenty-one years ago she'd given up her youthful dreams of becoming an archaeologist and living a glamorous life on digs in exotic places. She'd been blinded by love.

  Apparently Gary's vision had always been twenty/twenty.

  How was she supposed to start over? She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that instead of looking forward to retiring with Gary to a high rise condo on the beach in Panama City she was going to have to find a way to make up for losing twenty years of career time.

  Doing what? She sure as hell couldn't jump back into academia and she didn't have any experience in the real world of business. Maybe she could become a greeter at Walmart. They were always advertising their great career opportunities.

  This time she didn't let the wave of nausea get the better of her but the chill of fear in her stomach wouldn't go away.

  Heartbroken would have been okay.

  Fear was unacceptable.

  And what did the fact that she wasn't heartbroken say about her? And her marriage?

  Maybe heartbreak was lurking on the other side of the fear.

  Overwhelmed at the loss o
f her entire identity in less than twenty-four hours, Lucy went to the kitchen to call the one person who'd know just what to do. Aunt Belle always had the answer to life's tough questions because, unlike Lucy's mother, Belle had spent her adult life living in the real world instead of studying it. Over the years, Belle shared her life lessons with Lucy.

  She hit the speed-dial button for Aunt Belle's number and waited through six rings before being switched to voice mail. She punched the off button without leaving a message.

  What was she supposed to say?

  Gary left me, but it's okay because I'll have clean bathrooms?

  She glanced at the kitchen clock, shocked to realize it was barely noon. How could she have gone from contentedly married to separated and soon to be divorced in less than an hour?

  Her mind tried to dance back to the "what's going to happen to me now" question but she couldn't form a picture of her new reality.

  Hell she couldn't figure out what she was supposed to do for the next ten minutes let alone the next ten years.

  Jane Pepper Blows a Deal

  Jane Pepper smiled until her jaw ached. If she pulled off this deal they should name her realtor of the century.

  "I know it needs a little work," she said to the twenty-something bimbette. "But the location more than makes up for the need to put in new appliances." And new plumbing, electrical, heating, floors, ceilings . . . In reality whoever bought the place would be better off burning the damn house down and starting over. "I mean, who could pass up a chance to live a block away from the Governor's mansion?"

  The bimbette rubbed her surgically enhanced tits against her husband's arm. "I really want to live by the Governor, Timmy. Can't we please have the house?" She leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

  Jane watched Timmy turn a fascinating shade of red and hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack before the closing. It wasn't looking good right that second. The man was nearly sixty. Not a young sixty, more like an eighty pounds overweight, heavy drinking, high cholesterol sixty.

  Jane figured when all his blood started rushing to his dick, his heart didn't have an easy time keeping up. And right now, whatever Missy had whispered in his ear seemed to have given him a pretty good stiffy.

  Time to push for the close of the deal. With any luck his brain was as blood deprived as his heart.

  "You're not going to find another property like this," Jane said. That, at least was the truth.

  "Please, Timmy?"

  Timmy continued to hesitate.

  Jane tapped her Manolo clad toe and drummed her perfectly manicured nails silently against her lemon colored silk skirt praying for patience.

  Her cell emitted a discreet chirp calling for her attention and giving her a reprieve from the Missy and Timmy show. She glanced at the display. Lucy. "Could you excuse me for a minute? I need to take this."

  The mismatched couple nodded and Jane walked away a few steps, turning her back to them as she answered.

  "Gree lef meee."

  "Lucy? Are you okay? You sound drunk."

  There were more mumbled words and splashing in the background.

  "Lucy what's going on?"

  "Nawt Bellll."

  "No, this is Jane. Lucy, what--"

  The line went dead. Shit.

  Had she said Gary left her?

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  That's exactly what those first slurred words had been.

  She scrolled to Mae Taylor's number and hit the dial button.

  "I don't have time to talk," she said when Mae answered. "Lucy just called and she's in bad shape. Gary left her. She sounded very drunk and I heard splashing. You need to get over there and make sure she's not drowning or dying of alcohol poisoning. I'll get there as soon as I can."

  Mae said she was on her way out the door.

  Jane hung up and turned around in time to see Missy rub up against Timmy again. Watched her lean in for a little more whispering of obscene nothings. Missy was one determined trophy wife.

  No doubt Timmy had walked out on the first Mrs. Spaulding in order to marry Missy. Just the way Gary had walked out on Lucy.

  Anger painted hot streaks of red up Jane's knife-edged cheekbones and the tips of her nails scored temporary half-moons into her palms.

  Without warning, something inside her broke loose and started bouncing around like a pinball careening off those rubber bumpers.

  Jane tried to resist the evil impulse, she really did. She tried to think about the commission. She tried to think about being unemployed.

  She didn't succeed.

  "For God's sake Timmy just tell Missy how many blow jobs it's going to cost her to live near the Governor so she can agree and we can all go home."

  Mae Taylor Cleans Up

  Mae Taylor hit the off button on the phone and went in search of her husband. He wasn't going to be pleased that she was taking off without leaving dinner but Jane's fear for Lucy was catching.

  Chip was in the family room with beer and pretzels watching the Braves game on the super jumbo TV.

  What else would he be doing on a Saturday afternoon after playing a round of golf in the morning?

  Mae took a deep breath, smoothed her already perfect hair, and entered the lion's den.

  "Chip?"

  He responded with a "hmmm" without looking away from the game.

  "I have to go over and check on Lucy. She's upset about something."

  "Okay. What's for supper?"

  "I don't know. I might not be back in time to cook."

  That got his attention. "Why not? Can't Gary handle whatever's going on over there?"

  "Gary seems to be the problem."

  Chip let out a put upon sigh. "Fine. I suppose if you don't make it back the kids and I can order pizza."

  As if that was such a hardship. Pizza was generally the food of choice for Chip and her two teenagers.

  "Good but it'll just be you and Chelsea. Trey is spending the night at the Longs. Make sure he has his toothbrush and tell him to use it. Tell Chelsea her cheerleading uniform is in the dryer she needs to get it out and hang it up before it wrinkles."

  "I'll try to remember. When will you be home?"

  "I don't know. I'll call if it's going to be late."

  Chip grunted in response, his attention recaptured by some cheering and excitement from the game.

  Blessedly dismissed, Mae went back to the kitchen to grab her purse and keys. Lucy's house was only two blocks away but she was in a hurry and didn't know what she was going to find when she arrived.

  As she opened the door and slid behind the wheel, the minivan exhaled the lingering smell of fast food, trapped since their last stop at Wendy's on the way home from cheerleading practice. She made a mental note to Febreeze the upholstery.

  Mae drove past her neighbor's perfect homes, each one different--God forbid people who drive the same cars, wear the same clothes and belong to the same clubs should live in houses that looked alike--each one with an identical mailbox at the curb. Even on Saturday, there weren't a lot of people out and about. The landscapers handled the yard work, the pools were hidden behind privacy fences and children started and ended their journeys to activities in closed garages.

  Yep, they were just one big happy family out here in the suburbs. Southerners weren't any more inclined to gossip over fences than transplanted Yankees in upscale Metropolitan Atlanta neighborhoods.

  Mae pulled into Lucy's driveway two minutes later.

  The front door wasn't locked and Mae didn't bother to knock, from what Jane said it wasn't likely Lucy would answer.

  Mae stepped into the foyer. I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor was blaring from somewhere upstairs. "Lucy?" she called.

  No answer.

  Mae started up the stairs calling out every few steps and still not getting a response although the music got louder the closer she got to the source.

  When she reached the second floor landing she thought she heard Lucy's drunken accompaniment to Glo
ria's disco tune.

  She followed the trail of sound down the hall, to the master bedroom. An ancient Topsider lay in the doorway some of the stitching was loose and the sole worn thin over the ball, its mate was two feet further into the room. Next came a pair of blue jeans worn almost white, followed by a faded orange cotton tank top, a nude colored bra, and finally, in the doorway of the master bathroom, a pair of emerald green bikini panties.

  "Oh my goodness," Mae whispered even as she blinked to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

  Nope. That was Lucy alright. Naked. In the bathtub. With a half gallon of Moose Tracks ice cream balanced on her knees and a box of wine on the edge of the tub.

  As Mae stood there gaping, Lucy finished singing the last few bars of I Will Survive and hit a button on a remote in her hand causing the song to start over again.

  When the first quiet notes of the song echoed through the room, Lucy tilted her head to position her mouth under the little plastic spigot on the wine box and flipped the tab allowing pale pink wine to splash toward her mouth. Some made it in. Some dribbled off her chin, onto her shoulder and into the bathwater.

  The ice cream tipped alarmingly during this maneuver but didn't fall.

  After swallowing a couple mouthfuls of wine, Lucy flipped the tab closed, straightened up, scooped out a big spoonful of Moose Tracks and shoved the spoon in her mouth.

  "Ah mill sufive."

  "Lucy!"

  Lucy dropped the spoon back into the ice cream and turned her bleary-eyed gaze on Mae. "Mae day! Hey. Whatch doin here?"

  "Saving you from drowning or alcohol poisoning."

  "I fine. Ne'r better."

  "You're drunk."

  Lucy nodded. "Yep and gonna get drunker. Deserve it. Gar left me."

  "So I heard." Mae reached down and pulled the iPod out of the dock in the portable speakers Lucy had put on the bathroom floor. Silence.

  "Hey!" Lucy protested.

  "You need to get out of the tub," Mae said. She grabbed a large bath towel off a bar next to the tub and held it out.

  "Spoilsport."