Gotcha!

by Fern Michaels

  Myra laughed. “What’s your feeling about night, especially midnight?”

  “Actually, Myra, I don’t have a feeling one way or the other about midnight because I’m usually asleep by then. Unless I’m doing other things.”

  Myra didn’t need a road map to know what the other things were. She changed the subject. “I’m feeling a little guilty that we didn’t tell the others, with the exception of Nellie, what we’re doing. We had to tell her because of Fergus.”

  Annie blasted her horn again, then turned on her signal light to move over to the right lane. “Really? Why is that, Myra? Martine Connor is in Copenhagen at some ex-president summit. Pearl is on a camping trip with her daughter and granddaughter. Nellie has been suffering with her new hips, with all the rain and dampness we’ve had the last two weeks. None of them could have come with us. What would be the point of calling any of them, when you and I can scout out the problem and see if we all need to act on it? For all we know, Julie Wyatt might just want to talk to us. She picked you to write to for a reason, Myra. That tells me she knows about your daughter. And you are listed in Who’s Who as well as the phone book. Does that all make sense?”

  “Yes, it does. We’ll make our decision about whether to involve the others or handle it ourselves, after we talk to Julie Wyatt.”

  “Ah, we’re right on schedule. I do like it when things work out the way I plan for them. All we have to do is park this buggy, sprint across the tarmac, and board our waiting chariot. Ah, I see it now. She’s a beauty, isn’t she, Myra?” Annie said, pointing to the sleek Gulfstream that was her very own private jet.

  “That she is.” Myra giggled. “I’m not sure about that sprinting part, though.”

  “How about a fast trot, then?” Annie said, swerving into a private parking space reserved for people who were rich enough to own private jets.

  Twenty minutes later, the Gulfstream was airborne, and ten minutes after that they were at a cruising altitude of twenty-five thousand feet, and both women were being served eggs Benedict on fine china by a steward good-looking enough to pose for GQ magazine.

  “I could get used to traveling like this very quickly,” Myra said. She raised her eyebrows when the steward set down two mimosas.

  “They’re virgin mimosas, Myra. We can’t show up at Julie Wyatt’s house smelling of alcohol. How would that look?”

  “Like we drink on the job, is how it would look. What do you think she’s like, Annie?”

  “Well, I googled her and showed you everything that came up on her. She’s a pretty lady, not yet sixty, so younger than us. She has two sets of twins, which is a feat in itself. She’s a dog person, and that’s definitely a plus. She’s had success in her life—she hosts a cooking show on the Food Channel. She’s had tragedy, as you know, just as you and I have. My personal opinion is she needs help, our help, more than she wants it. Which means she’s smart, Myra. She knows she has to resolve her problem before she can move forward and heal.”

  “She sounds to me like she’d be a good candidate to join our . . . second string.”

  Annie burst out laughing. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to mentioning that.”

  “You were ahead of me on that one, weren’t you, Annie?”

  Annie just laughed.

  Annie fixed her eyes on the rental-car employee, and asked, “Does this rig have a GPS navigation system?”

  “It does,” the curly-haired youth responded. “This . . . ah . . . rig is fully loaded.”

  “Hmmm. Well, this is where we want to go, so will you please program it into that . . . that thing so we can be on our way,” Annie said, shoving a slip of paper into the youth’s hand.

  The boy laughed as he programmed the thing. He had it done in seconds. Myra tipped him $20 before she settled herself into the passenger seat. Annie huffed and puffed as she slid behind the wheel.

  “Don’t look so damned smug, Myra; you don’t know how to do it, either. They say ten-year-olds can do it.”

  “Well, guess what, Annie, we aren’t ten years old, and furthermore, I do not want to learn how to do that. You don’t, either, so don’t pretend you do. Now, pay attention to what that damned thing is telling us so we don’t get lost. Tell me again why we didn’t hire a car service.”

  “Because you said we needed to economize.”

  Myra started to sputter, then they were off and running, their way of relieving the stress both of them were feeling.

  Thirty minutes later, the computerized voice on the GPS navigation system alerted the women that they were three miles from their destination.

  “This is a nice little town. Do you want to stop for some lunch, Myra? We need to get our wits together.”

  Before Myra could respond, Annie turned left and parked in a slanted slot on what she thought was the town square. “See, it says Eats. Soup and sandwiches. I’m not that hungry, but I could eat something. A cold glass of sweet tea would be greatly appreciated.”

  “You made your point, Annie. Let’s take a table outside. It will give us a chance to get a feel for this little town. I like what I’ve seen so far. I just love towns with big old trees that shade the sidewalks. I wonder if children still roller-skate and ride their bicycles on the sidewalks.” Her voice was so fretful-sounding that Annie flinched.

  “Don’t go there, Myra,” Annie said, a catch in her own voice.

  “Small-town America,” Myra said, after they gave the waitress their order. One tuna sandwich to be split between the two of them, two cups of something called wedding bell soup, and two tall glasses of sweet tea with lots of ice.

  The women made small talk; mostly it consisted of neither of them ever having been in Alabama. “I think they get a lot of hurricanes and tornados here,” was Annie’s contribution.

  Suddenly, Annie poked Myra in the arm. “I think that answers your question, Myra.” Myra turned to look at four young girls, bike helmets on their heads, as they parked their bicycles outside Penny’s Ice Cream Parlor. They were laughing and giggling as they marched into the store, and they came out ten minutes later with ice-cream cones. They continued to laugh and giggle as they sat on a bench under the awning in front of the store. Both women looked away.

  “Were we ever that young, Annie?”

  “We were, Myra, but it was so long ago, it’s hard to remember.”

  The moment the giggling girls pedaled away, Myra got up, placed some bills under the saltshaker, and they were back in the car and headed down Main Street on their way to Julie Wyatt’s house.

  Ten minutes later, the navigation system came to life, saying they would arrive at their destination within three minutes. Annie slowed the rental car and turned on her signal light but was prevented from making the turn into Julie Wyatt’s driveway as a dark green pickup truck loaded with gardening supplies turned into the same driveway. They watched as the driver of the pickup punched in a set of numbers on the keypad. Their car was so close behind, it made it through the gate right behind the pickup. “Whew, that was close. We wouldn’t have been able to get in if that guy wasn’t ahead of us.”

  “We could have called Ms. Wyatt’s number to ask her to let us in,” Myra replied.

  “You always have to have the last word, don’t you, Myra?” Annie sniped.

  Myra ignored her and got out of the car. “Oh, Annie, look at that glorious front porch. I wonder if they still call them verandas. Look at all the plants and ferns! And those wonderful rocking chairs. This is just too pretty for words. Shhh. Listen! Her dogs know we’re here! Well, come on. Why are you standing there like that?”

  “Because . . . because, this house, this veranda looks just the way Mama’s did back when I was a little girl. Don’t you remember, Myra? We used to sit on the veranda and have tea parties. We were so young and innocent back then.”

  “Annie, stop it right now. Tripping down memory lane isn’t going to help us. This isn’t about us or our memories. This is about Julie Wyatt. Now, come on, put
one foot in front of the other, and let’s go up on the veranda and ring the bell before those dogs come through the door.”

  They stepped up onto the veranda. Annie rang the doorbell, then stepped back. From inside they could hear a pleasant voice admonishing the dogs. The instant silence was deafening. The door opened, and a woman brushed back her hair as she stared through the screen door. She didn’t say hello. What she said was, “How did you get in here?”

  “We followed a green pickup truck. Ms. Wyatt, I’m Myra Rutledge, and this is Anna de Silva. You wrote me a letter. We called you and left a message, but you didn’t return our call, so we came to see you. You have a lovely front porch.”

  “Dear God! I am so sorry. Is it really you? You came all this way? I didn’t get any message, but we’ve had problems with power surges. When that happens, the answering machine goes haywire. I know I should get voice mail, but I hate all things electronic. Oh, my, I can’t believe you’re here!

  “I’m babbling, and where are my manners? Please, come in. The dogs won’t bother you. They love people, especially Cooper. I can’t believe you came all the way down here from Virginia. I didn’t know what else to do. I did write you once before, but you didn’t respond, so I thought I’d try one more time.”

  “We’re sorry we didn’t come when you first wrote, but the fact of the matter is that we never got your letter. We weren’t exactly easy to reach in those days. But we’re here now,” Annie said brightly.

  “Yes, we’re here now,” Myra echoed, looking around at the cozy house. It was a woman’s house, for sure. Everything about it was spick-and-span, colorful and comfortable, and it smelled like the house of a woman who did a lot of cooking.

  “Coffee? Tea? Something cold to drink?” Julie asked as she ushered the two women visitors into the kitchen. “I always conduct business in the kitchen. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not one little bit, dear. Annie and I are both kitchen people. Coffee would be nice.”

  “I just made it. I was going to take a break and sit down and think. I always think best with coffee.”

  “Us, too,” Annie said, sitting down on a captain’s chair with bright blue-checkered cushions.

  “Oh, I am so nervous,” Julie blurted.

  “Don’t be,” Myra said softly. “Think of us as your two new best friends. You can tell us anything. Actually, you will have to tell us everything if you want us to help you. You can’t hold anything back. In other words, full disclosure.”

  “Okay, full disclosure,” Julie said, pouring coffee into blue-checkered cups that matched the cushions on the chairs. She returned the coffeepot to the machine and brought a sugar bowl and creamer that matched the cups and set them in the middle of the table, along with spoons.

  Julie sat down at the table and folded her hands.

  “Talk to us,” Annie said.

  Chapter 10

  Julie took a deep breath, the air swooshing out of her lungs. She clasped her hands and looked straight at the other two women. “Just so you know, I’m not good at this. I’m just way too emotional when it comes to the needless death of my son. So if I cry, just bear with me.” Myra and Annie nodded.

  “I pretty much told you everything in my letters, but since you didn’t get the first one, I’ll start from there. Larry was the baby of the family. He was always strong-willed, independent, and the kindest, gentlest person to walk the Earth. He loved animals and was always bringing strays home and nursing them. He really wasn’t that good a student, but he made it through college, then got his CPA license. But, just like the twins, he didn’t want to work with numbers, so he set up a catering business and did very well at it. He did all his cooking in the little cottage behind my house here. It was all certified by our board of health. We all pitched in to help if he had a large wedding or some other function that was too big to handle alone. It worked.

  “Larry got married to a wonderful young woman named Audrey. They were so very happy. Even happier when Audrey gave birth to Olivia, my only grandchild. One stormy day, Audrey went to Olivia’s play school to pick her up and on the way back, there was a car crash. Olivia survived but . . . Audrey didn’t. Larry took it terribly hard, as we all did. We all worked overtime to make sure Ollie . . . well, you know. Larry threw himself into his business, and it thrived. He was mom and dad to Ollie. He tried to do it all. Then one day, some of his friends decided to take him out to celebrate something or other and he met this . . . this woman, Darlene Jimson, in some karaoke bar. Her tacky friends called her Jimmy, but the family always called her Darlene.

  “She smelled money from day one. She was impressed with Larry’s sports car, that he had his own business, and that he owned a house of his own. Well, he had a mortgage on it, but still, Larry did have a house, something Darlene had probably never had in her entire life. Darlene was working in some factory making eight dollars an hour. That’s okay, it was honest work, and she did work. But she drank a lot.

  “Did the family like her? Yes and no. In the beginning, she seemed to be good for Larry. He talked her into going for her degree, so she did, and she worked and went to school, and I know it wasn’t easy, but she did it. That’s the good part. Then, as Larry’s business continued to grow, and he was making some really serious money, she changed. They weren’t married at that point. She wanted to move in and Larry wanted her to move in. But he said he wouldn’t do that with Olivia in the house, so he proposed, and they got married. She appeared to love Ollie, but we found out that was just a show for Larry’s benefit.

  “Eventually, Larry insisted Darlene adopt Olivia, and she did, but we all knew that was the last thing she wanted to do. But, she did do it. Eventually, Darlene finished school and got a job, but was making nowhere near the money that Larry was. We could all see problems developing. Some of them serious. She liked dressing like a streetwalker and going out at night with her friends and not telling Larry where she was going. She fell in love with credit cards and maxed them all out. The girls, Connie and Carrie, wanted to take her out behind the woodshed and go at it with her, but Larry said no, he was working through it.

  “The signs were there that she was cheating on him. None of us said anything until finally he told me and the girls. Larry set traps for her, but she was just a shade too slick.

  “Larry’d had a prenup drawn up before they got married. When things started going south, he made a will, with his twin sisters as executors. Darlene signed off on the prenup because Larry said, no prenup, no wedding. But that’s when she really turned into a conniving bitch. She wanted this, she wanted that. It was all about, hey, look at me, look what I have! All of Larry’s friends took a step backward; none of them liked Darlene. And, of course, they told this to Larry, who then told us. They pretty much led separate lives, slept in separate bedrooms a year or so into the marriage. Darlene was not mother material. Half the time, she couldn’t even remember Ollie’s name. In short, she never bonded with the child, and Ollie didn’t want to be around her.

  “Darlene started working late, telling Larry she had to meet with people, et cetera. The girls and I played detective and staked out the place where she said she was working. She left at five, when everyone else left. At first, Larry refused to believe it.

  “Time went on, and Larry tried to be supermom and superdad. He continued with his business, Darlene did her thing, and we all took care of Ollie. And when she was five, Larry got sick a few days before the Fourth of July. A month or so before that, late May, we hired a private detective to follow Darlene. We didn’t tell Larry. When we finally got the goods on her, we did tell him. He reverted back to the old feisty Larry we all knew and loved. He said he was going to make an appointment with a top-notch lawyer in Huntsville. Larry didn’t want to hire one here in Rosemont.

  “As I said, Larry came down with some kind of summer flulike condition, and he had all these big catering jobs over the Fourth. We all pitched in and even hired some help to take the pressure off him. Darlene never lift
ed a finger. Ollie was so excited because she was going to ride in one of the floats in the parade. Larry said he was moving out, and would be moving back in with me the day after the Fourth. He said he just wanted to get through the Fourth for Olivia’s sake, so she could ride in the float. We didn’t like that and tried to talk him out of it. He said he didn’t want Darlene to know that he was leaving until the very last minute. We had to accept it because Larry was so headstrong, and his mind was made up. All he could think about was Ollie riding in the big parade and not wanting to disappoint her.

  “Long story short, we managed to get all the catering done, and Ollie had a great day. Larry was too sick even to make it to the parade, so the boys took Ollie. It worked. I went by the house around two o’clock on the Fourth just to check on Larry, and Darlene wasn’t there. He looked terrible and complained his back was hurting him—from a high school football injury that left him in pain from time to time. Sometimes, he’d sleep on the floor for relief.

  “Larry said he had told Darlene he was leaving in the morning, and she had started to cry. He said he didn’t mince words and told her to get the hell out. Those were his exact words to me. She took her golf clubs and left. Darlene liked to pretend to play golf, thinking she might meet up with a really rich man on the links. As she was leaving, she asked Larry to promise that they would talk about his decision later.

  “I don’t know if that happened or not. That was the last time I spoke to my son. He died early the next morning. The EMS people called me the next morning to tell me Larry was dead. I called everyone, and we rushed over there, but he was . . . gone. I took one look at that evil bitch, and I knew, the way a mother knows, that she had done something. As God is my judge, I just knew it.

  “You have the rest in the letters I wrote. I made copies for you. Connie, my daughter, took Olivia home with her that day.