“Things turned ugly really, really fast. All of a sudden, Darlene’s relatives and skanky friends swooped in and took over the house, and Darlene was calling around to see what Larry owned, wanting his bank records, everything. I had all that; the girls had some things, too. Larry didn’t keep any financial stuff in the house where they lived because he said Darlene was always going through his things. He’d set little traps so he’d know. He said she’d go through his pants at night and take money out of his wallet; not a lot, but she did take money. Carrie told me that.
“Darlene was livid when she found out Larry had made a will. He never told her because he didn’t trust her, and he knew his sisters would do the right thing, and that’s why he appointed them as his personal representatives. And they tried and tried, but we had to go legal. The good news is Darlene never got a penny, and the will is still in probate. The girls filed lawsuits. This all went on for years until we ran out of money. We haven’t seen Olivia in four years. I’m sure that baby thinks we abandoned her.
“Darlene moved some man and his kids into the house. People, friends who live in the area, tell us things about the mistreatment of Olivia and what a sad little creature she is. We did everything we could do legally, but the legal bills were astronomical, and we just had to call it quits. I don’t know where Darlene got the money to pay her lawyers or if she even paid them. All I know is, we paid ours and called it quits.
“Just recently, within the last two weeks, God finally smiled on me, and I got an offer to do an Oprah cooking show for next season at really good money. Now I have the money to go back to court and fight, but having been through it once, I know the court system and how futile it is for cases like mine. As far as I’m concerned, there is no point in going back to court. I want . . . I want vengeance and real justice for my son, and I want that evil bitch to pay for his death.”
“Are you saying Darlene killed your son?” Myra asked.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. What I am saying—based on the police report of what she said—is that when she came home that night from wherever she was, Larry was lying on the floor. She said she thought his back was acting up again and she just called to him and he didn’t answer her so she went to bed. She admitted she had too much to drink that night and she couldn’t wait to go to bed. She said she called out to him to go to bed, and that she was going to go to bed, too. She knew he was sick, but she didn’t care enough about him to even check on him. If your husband is sick, you don’t go out and party. At least, no one I know does that. If she had just checked on him then or called nine-one-one, Larry could still be alive today. We had expert witnesses who would have testified to that at fifty thousand dollars a witness. We didn’t have that kind of money and nowhere to get it. I mortgaged my house to the hilt just to pay for the lawyers over the years. We all strapped ourselves to the bone. There was nowhere else to borrow money. We just had to call it quits.”
Myra, a wicked gleam in her eye, leaned forward. “What do you want us to do, Julie?”
“Make that bitch pay for what she did. I want a confession from her. I want my granddaughter out of that house. I want her and those skanky people she moved in there out of my son’s—no, my granddaughter’s—house. I want her stripped to the bone, made to suffer the way she has made all of us suffer. I just want to honor the promise I made to my dead son that I would make her pay and I would see that Ollie had a good life.”
“I think we can do that, Julie,” Annie said, getting up and heading for the coffeepot like she was in her own kitchen. “Don’t you agree, Myra?”
Myra’s head bobbed up and down.
“I want to help,” Julie said. “My kids will also want to help.”
Annie poured coffee, her eyes glistening with tears.
“How did you ladies survive the deaths of your children?” Julie asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“It wasn’t easy,” Myra said in a harsh whisper she barely recognized as her own voice.
“A parent is never supposed to bury a child,” Annie said. “And yet, the three of us sitting here right now had to do that. In my case, there was no one to blame except for the elements. Myra saved my life and, at the time, she said something to me that I will never forget. She told me someday I might be called on to help someone go through what I had gone through, and she was right. I joined the vigilantes. It was before I joined up that Myra and the others found the man who had caused her daughter’s death—and took care of him. Myra got her vengeance, which just goes to show payback is a bitch.” There was such hatred and bitterness in Annie’s voice that Julie winced.
“Listen to me, Julie,” Myra said. “This kind of thing is not for the squeamish. I was the only one of the vigilantes who had to deal with a death. When it was my turn, the others agreed to help, but, in the end, while I got even with my daughter’s killer, I didn’t sleep any better. My daughter is still gone. I’m never, ever going to see her again. I speak only for myself when I say we will get even for you, but we will not kill anyone. That’s not to say that when we’re done with your daughter-in-law, she won’t wish she were dead. If we commit to you and your mission, there will be no turning back. If you have a change of heart, it won’t make a difference.”
“Are you comfortable with that, Julie?” Annie asked.
“I am very comfortable with that.”
“We can either stay on here and map out our plan, or we can return home to Virginia and map out our plan there. This time around, it will just be Annie and me doing the . . . ah . . . wet work. Are you comfortable with that, or do you want the whole second string?”
Julie more or less laughed. “I see in your eyes what I see in my own eyes every time I look in the mirror. I would be honored to work with the two of you. I promise not to get in your way, but I have to be in on it. You understand that, don’t you?”
“We do,” Myra and Annie said in unison.
Annie slapped her hand, palm down, on the table. Myra placed her hand on top of Annie’s. Julie followed suit. “We’re in business, ladies,” Annie said cheerfully.
“We need paper and pens,” Myra said.
Julie made them appear as if by magic. She waited expectantly.
“Tell us what you know of Darlene’s current finances. Where does she bank? Where does she get her money? Does the boyfriend live off her, or does he have money? If you know.”
“I do know. She has a checking account, no savings account or money market fund. It’s at Alabama Federal. She gets money every month for Olivia, and it’s an automatic deposit. Supposedly, she works for some fly-by-night company that organizes home shopping events and gets paid a commission. About six months ago, I heard she was one step away from filing for bankruptcy. They have four high-end cars, all with payments. She buys top-of-the-line of everything, and he is always buying something. She does have a poor credit score, that much I know for certain. I have her Social Security number as well as Ollie’s if that will help you.
“I’ve lived in this town long enough to join all the citizen groups. I’m well known, and the people here are my friends and my kids’ friends. I’m telling you that so you understand why people come to me or the kids when they find out something about Darlene. It’s that small-town stick-together thing. I keep all those little confidences in a separate book. I don’t want anything any of them tells me to get back and bite them, as Darlene is vicious. If you look at her crossways, she threatens to sue you. People do not want to get sued, and I can’t blame them.”
“Understood,” Annie said. “But we aren’t like those other people, are we, Myra?” Annie twinkled.
“No, we are not like those other people. We kick ass and take names later.”
Julie burst out laughing. “I sense we are about to get down to business. Shall I make us a fresh pot of coffee? By the way, would you like to stay here? I have a lovely cottage with two bedrooms in a loft. They aren’t actually separate bedrooms; there’s a decorative screen separating
the space. I’ll even cook for you.”
“Sold!” Annie cackled as she slapped her hand on the table. “More coffee would be wonderful. I have to call my pilot and send him back home. No sense in keeping him here. He can come back for us when we wrap this up, or we can fly home commercial.”
“Myra, do you trust me to do the hacking, or should I call Abner to do it for us?”
“For this, dear, no offense, but I think we should use Abner. I think you need a little more practice.”
“No offense taken, Myra. I agree with you. Hacking isn’t like safecracking, but I do want to remind you that I excelled at that, along with the stripper pole.”
Julie’s eyes popped wide.
“Another time, dear, and we’ll tell you things that will curl your hair. For now, we need to focus on our mission and not get sidetracked,” Annie said.
“How much do you hate your daughter-in-law?”
“How deep is the ocean, how vast is the universe, how far is the desert? Combine all three, and that’s my answer.”
“That much, eh? It’ll do,” Annie said happily as she punched in numbers on her cell phone.
The plane situation was taken care of in seconds. It was the call to Abner Tookus that made the hair on the back of Julie Wyatt’s neck stand straight up. She listened to one of her new best friends, her eyes as round as saucers.
“Abner, dear, this is what I need. Tell me if you can have it done in the next few hours. Yes, yes, I know who I am talking to. We need you to erase two identities. Adam Fortune and Darlene Jimson Wyatt. We want a full court on this. I’m going to read off the credit-card numbers and give you both their Social Security numbers. I want their identities totally destroyed. I want there to be no record of them anywhere at all. Make them disappear from the face of the Earth. ASAP. There’s also a child involved, and I will give you her Social as well. I can’t be sure, but I think Adam Fortune or Darlene set up a credit line for her somehow. Ditto for Darlene’s dead husband. I have the child’s Social, too. I want her to disappear from the Social Security database and have the funds that were being deposited for her redirected elsewhere under a different name and number. So, what are we looking at here, Abner, time-wise?” Annie listened, her eyes as bright and shiny as a squirrel’s. She smiled and said, “And, as they say, the check is in the mail. Give my love to Isabelle.”
Annie powered down, then dusted her hands together. “He said he’d be done by midnight, his time. That means we’ll know it’s all been taken care of when the news comes on at eleven this evening. Tomorrow morning, the dark stuff will hit the fan for Darlene Jimson Wyatt.”
Julie was shocked speechless. “And you did all of that with one phone call!”
Myra laughed. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know. Abner is the best of the best, and he’s been training Annie.”
“I read something in one of these papers that says Darlene practically lives at the ATM machines. That she doesn’t carry cash as a rule and uses a debit card. Even pays for her groceries with a credit card. Is that true, or did I misread something?”
“No, you read it right,” Julie said, her voice full of awe. “She even uses a debit card when she goes to Starbucks. She goes every morning for her daily fix. I used to stake her out.”
Myra and Annie burst out laughing.
“Not anymore she doesn’t. Myra and I can be there in the morning to watch firsthand if she has a certain time she goes there. She doesn’t know us, so we can follow her. She might even go to the bank, and we can follow her there and take her picture when she pitches her first fit,” Annie said.
Julie joined in the laughter. “She usually hits it around nine or a few minutes after nine.” Finally, she was going to see some action. She was so excited, she could barely talk. Please, God, don’t make this a bad dream.
“What does Darlene do for a living?”
“She was selling real estate after Larry died. Then she moved Adam and his kids into the house. When the townspeople got wind of that, no one would list or buy through her. I heard she worked in Huntsville in a department store for a while but got fired. The rumor around town, mostly beauty-parlor gossip, is that she’s a sociopath. I don’t think she does anything now except bail Adam’s kids out of jail. Or Adam does. She dyes her own hair these days, too. Seems Betsy Kenyon mixed the wrong colors, then Darlene’s hair started falling out. Darlene tried to sue Betsy, but no lawyer would take the case.”
“They sound like pariahs,” Myra said.
“I guess you could say that. Among other things.”
“I have an idea,” Annie said. “Let’s go sit on your front porch, Julie. I want to hear everything there is to know about Larry, your other children, and, of course, Olivia. Will it bother you to talk to us about them?”
“No. I love talking about Larry, but everyone is tired of hearing me, so I don’t do it anymore. I suppose in some ways, I’m obsessed.”
“I was like that for a long time,” Myra said, picking up her coffee cup.
“Me, too, but longer than Myra was,” Annie said.
“Will you tell me about your children when I’m done?” Julie asked.
“Just try and stop us,” Annie said, reaching for Julie’s hand to pull her to her feet. “Just you try and stop us.”
“I don’t know how to thank you both.”
“Glad to help,” Myra said, leading the small parade out to the veranda. The dogs looked up and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to get up and go out on the veranda in the hot weather.
“Watch the house,” Julie said. Gracie barked in response. It was something she always said to the dogs when she went out the door, even if it was just to take the trash out.
Chapter 11
Along with the dogs, Julie walked her guests over to the little cottage and opened the door. “Everything you need is already in there. You can make coffee when you get up, then walk over to the house for breakfast. I’ll send the dogs to get you. Gracie knows how to ring the doorbell. I usually make breakfast around seven. Or is that too early for you?”
“No, that’s fine. Myra and I don’t sleep much, especially when we’re planning a mission. We’re going to spend most of what’s left of this night reading through your legal papers. Do you want us to call you when our . . . source calls us later on?”
“I would dearly love that. Falling asleep knowing that evil bitch is finally going to get her due should make for a good night’s sleep. Do you still want to go to Starbucks in the morning? She goes at nine. If you beat her to the shop, there is a wonderful spot where you can park and observe her going through the drive-through. She has her windows tinted very dark, so the only way to actually see her is head-on. You need to see what you’re going to be dealing with.”
“We’ll do it as soon as breakfast is over. Annie and I are good at stakeouts. You’re sure, now, that this is what you want?”
“I’m sure. No second thoughts at all. I think you’ll be more than comfortable over here. I’ll say good night now and thank you again for coming, and for believing in me.”
The three women hugged one another, then Myra and Annie proceeded to settle down in their new digs.
Annie turned on lights while Myra dropped the bags she’d been carrying at the top of the steps. Annie, who had two boxes in her arms, placed them side by side.
“This is very pretty,” Myra said, walking around. “I really like the oak floors and the ceiling-to-floor windows. I bet it’s nice and sunny in here during the day. I just love all this wood. The kitchen is perfect—not too big, not too small. I could see how Julie’s son Larry would have been happy in here with his little daughter. Yes, any young person would be happy here, don’t you agree, Annie? And the little girl would be just across the yard from her grandma. This is just so sad.”
“I do agree. I’m going to take a shower and change into my nightclothes. You make the coffee and get the stuff ready to read; then, when you hit the shower, I’ll parcel it out to what
I think we need to deal with first. I like Julie, Myra. I really like her. I’m wondering if maybe she wouldn’t be an asset to our second string. I saw the way you were looking at her, and I’m thinking you are of the same mind-set.”
“You’re right, but how would that work for us when she lives here in Alabama? We can worry about that later. Take your shower, and I’ll have the coffee ready when you get out. Just think, Annie, two more hours, and if Abner wasn’t being overly optimistic, Ms. Darlene Wyatt will be floating down the tubes by early light. I can’t wait!”
Annie laughed all the way into the bathroom and was still smiling when she stood under the warm water. She was chuckling to herself when she donned one of her old flannel nightgowns. She found true comfort in familiarity. She just loved it when things were on a roll. Just loved, loved, loved it! She sniffed at the fresh scent of coffee. It was going to be a very long evening.
Ninety minutes later, their coffee cups empty, their eyes on their watches, Myra looked up and over at Annie. “I never met this woman, and I already hate her guts!”
“Whoa there, Myra!” Annie said, rearing back.
“What kind of mother would put her boyfriend and his children ahead of her own, even if her own is adopted? What kind of mother would spend her adopted child’s money on her boyfriend and his children? What kind of mother would allow her boyfriend to slap, browbeat, and verbally abuse her child?”
“Not any mother I ever heard of. Okay, Myra, we both hate her guts! But we have a chance now to go after the evil bitch and make it right for little Ollie. She’s a cutie, isn’t she, with those blond curls and big blue eyes? So sad, though. Other than the pictures taken before her daddy died, there’s not a single one of her smiling.”
Myra’s face was grim. “We’re going to change that real quick, Annie. I can’t wait to get my hands on that woman and her boyfriend.” Myra looked down at her watch. “Ten more minutes, if Abner is on the money. You don’t think there will be any glitches, do you?”
Gotcha! Page 10
