“The next day was the day that Abby came over. Then, yesterday, he called me to apologize. I let him sweet-talk me into coming over to his place. I told him I would take a taxi. On the ride over, I called Russ, my personal account manager at the bank, and asked him to wire $3 million to an account. I didn’t have all the banking information, but I assured Russ I would have it soon. Poor guy. I practically bit his head off when he asked why I needed such a large amount of money. I’ll have to call him and apologize.
“When I arrived at his house, Sammy was waiting for me in the bedroom. I told him I had called the bank and made arrangements for the transfer. I asked him for his banking numbers. This is when the alarm bells should have gone off. He whipped a slip of paper out of his pocket so fast, I was a bit surprised, but I had said I would give him the money. The paper had all the information the bank would require. I called the bank, rattled off the numbers, no, no wait, that’s not the exact way it happened. I told Sammy I would call the bank, and he stepped out of the room. I made the arrangements. Russ said it would take forty-eight hours for the transfer to go through.
“This is so humiliating.”
“We don’t need you to go into all the sordid details, Ida.”
“You need to hear this. Abby, forgive me, but you are an adult. If I didn’t think it appropriate, I wouldn’t tell this. Part of me wants to scream with shame, and another part of me wants to laugh like a wild hyena. If this Sammy were an actor, this story would be wonderful for The Informer.
“Sammy left the room while I called the bank. After a bit of time had passed, I went through the house searching for him. There are four bedrooms in the house, but only two of them are being used. While I was searching I peeked in the two empty rooms. The first one was a small office. The second one had one of those blow-up mattresses with a cheap lamp sitting on a pile of stacked books. I thought it odd that a man of Sammy’s caliber wouldn’t have a better guest room. I closed the door and saw that the door to Amala’s room was open. I was sure Sammy was in there, so I went to the room. Before I called out, or knocked, I peered inside the room.” Ida took a deep breath. “Sammy was unaware that I was there watching him. I was horrified when I saw a pile of women’s panties on the bed. He held a pair in his hand, and he…he was sniffing them.”
Chapter 24
Sophie was dumbstruck. Toots looked like she’d been sucker punched in the gut. Abby’s blue eyes were wide with shock. Chris shook his head in apparent disgust. Ida just sat there with tears running down her face.
“Can you believe how stupid I am? There’s a bit more than that. Maybe someday when we’re all bored with nothing to do, I’ll finish that part of the story. So there you have it. Abby, what is it you want to tell me? It can’t be as bad as what I’ve just told all of you.”
“Maybe, not. Though I guess it depends on whom you ask. Mom, can I tell her what you asked me to do?”
“Of course,” Toots said.
Abby still sat next to Ida, hoping just being near would offer her some comfort. “Mom asked me to check out Dr. Sameer. She said there was something about him that bothered her, but she didn’t know exactly what it was. I had one of my second-stringers check his background. Dr. Sameer’s credentials are impeccable. He’s never even had so much as a speeding ticket. The man is close to sainthood if you ask me. As I was reading through his achievements, I saw the date he graduated from Harvard Medical School. The Dr. Sameer I received information on would be about forty-two years old. I Googled his name, got over a million hits. The Center for Mind and Body has a Web site, I started searching, and this is what I found. Mom, slide your computer down here.”
Abby pulled up all the Web pages for the Center for Mind and Body. She showed Ida his picture and his staff. Then she scrolled down to the note to his patients. Abby read it, then let Ida read it.
Dr. Benjamin Sameer had been on sabbatical in India for the past five months.
Ida appeared to be in a daze, stunned. “How? And who is Sammy?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Chris said. “Do you think you can take the police or an investigator to his house without arousing any suspicion?”
“Heavens no! When I left there, I raced out of the house in tears. As I said, there is a bit more to the story, and I won’t tell you all the nasty business, but, no, I can’t go back to that house ever again. I can tell you the address, but that’s it.”
Chris went out on the deck and made a few phone calls, then came back inside. “I’ve called the police and gave them the gist of the story. They’re going to try to locate Dr. Sameer. This could be worse than we know. If we can’t locate the real doctor and his staff, your Sammy might be involved in something much more sinister than sniffing women’s underwear and ripping off wealthy women.”
“I think I’m going to go lie down. These past three days have taken their toll on me. Toots, if you need me, just knock on the door. I’m going to take another shower. I feel very dirty right now.”
“Ida, whatever you do, don’t you start washing your hands and all that other business. Sammy did help you overcome your OCD, remember that,” Sophie said.
“It’s not that kind of dirtiness that I feel, so don’t worry. Chris, if the police need to speak with me, tell them I will do whatever I can to help find that…that man.”
“Before you go to bed, write down the address. If the police need anything else, I’ll contact you myself.”
Ida scribbled down the address of Sammy’s beach house and gave it to Chris, then hugged Abby good-bye.
Upstairs, in the privacy of her own room, Ida broke down. What a complete and utter fool she was! Sixty-five years old, and she still hadn’t learned anything where men were concerned. She could run a minimansion with a large staff, make wise investment decisions, and at one time she’d been a well-known photographer with her work on the cover of Life magazine. While her accomplishments weren’t off the scale, they weren’t anything to sneer at either.
As she’d told Toots, she felt dirty, but not in the germ sense. Dirty right down to her core. She turned the tap on and sprinkled something sweet-smelling in the water. She stripped off her clothes and took a long look in the mirror. Ida did not admire or like what she saw. There was a callousness to her face. Hard angles, cold and sharp, not soft and warm like Mavis. Her hatefulness and self-centered ways were starting to manifest themselves on her face, in her eyes, even her carriage. Ida turned away from the mirror, not liking what she saw on the outside and not liking how it made her feel on the inside.
She slid down into the warm, velvety water and leaned her head against the back of the tub. If Mavis could change, Ida figured she could, too. Mavis embraced life with such vigor that Ida wondered if she hurt. She was going to take her friends’ advice and kick her “man habit.” She would be nice instead of hateful, maybe a bit more cranky and ornery like Sophie.
Ida hoped the authorities found Sammy and that sleazy driver, Mohammed. They were connected, of that she had no doubt at all. Amala, too. And if the police didn’t find them, she would hire the best private detectives in the country to do so.
Resolved to make some much-needed changes in her life, Ida closed her eyes and relaxed.
When Mavis heard all the commotion coming from the kitchen, she’d immediately thought of their “spiritual house-guests,” as she privately thought of them. Hurrying downstairs to check out the noise, her heart filled with love when she saw Abby. She raced over and wrapped her arms around her, kissed her on top of those wild blond curls, then the lateness, or earliness, of the hour dawned on her. “Abby, is something wrong?” Mavis looked around for Chester. When she didn’t see him, she thought the worst. “Is Chester all right?”
Abby returned her dearest, sweetest godmother’s hug. “Chester is fine. He was sleeping so peacefully under the kitchen table, I didn’t want to disturb him.”
“That’s wonderful. Chris, you and Abby must be starving. You both look a little wan. Can I make
you something for breakfast?” Mavis asked pleasantly.
“Nothing for me, thanks. Chris and I sort of raided the refrigerator when we arrived. Mom, I think we need to tell Mavis why we’re here.”
Toots stepped up to the plate. “Of course we do. Mavis, this has been the most insane night. I never thought I’d say it, but poor Ida.”
She went into detail about her suspicions and how she had asked Abby to check Dr. Sameer’s background. It took her ten minutes to bring her up to date on where things stood.
“So there really isn’t anything we can do until we hear from the police.”
“This is almost as scary as the ghosts! No, I believe it’s worse. At least our ghosts seem…friendly. Where is Ida now?” Mavis asked.
Chris took Mavis aside before anyone could give her an answer as to Ida’s whereabouts. “Did you say ghost? Ghosts?”
“Yes, of course. Abby hasn’t told you?”
Chris looked at Abby and Toots. They each smiled at him, but it was a nervous, forced smile. He smiled back, even offered a little half wave.
“No, Abby forgot to mention the ghosts. Why don’t you tell me more over a cup of coffee? I’m just dying to hear this story.” As Chris led Mavis around the kitchen, he never once took his eye off Abby and Toots. He even mouthed “ghosts?” to them. They just sat there like two peas in a pod and smiled.
What a night, rather day, this was turning into. Chris couldn’t wait to hear their explanation. Mavis poured him a cup of coffee as he continued to stare at Toots and Abby.
“Ghosts?” he mouthed again.
Mother and daughter nodded and continued to smile.
Chapter 25
Six weeks later…
Abby raced home as fast as traffic would allow. Tonight was the big night, as she’d dubbed it a few weeks ago. Tonight Abby would drive to Malibu to her mother’s beach house, where Sophie would—she hated to use the word perform—but that’s exactly what she would be doing, the first séance since Ida had confessed she’d been seeing a crotch-licking panty sniffer.
Abby laughed about it now, but at the time it hadn’t been the least bit funny.
She whipped her bright yellow MINI Cooper through a right turn, then made a sharp left that led to her house in Brentwood. Chester stuck his head out of the partially opened window on the passenger side.
“Almost home, boy. But you already know that, don’t you?” Abby reached over with her right hand and scratched his favorite spot, right above his tail.
“Woof! Woof!”
“You’re welcome,” Abby said. She and Chester communicated quite nicely, she thought, as she pulled into her carport. She cut the engine and reached over to the passenger seat, where she unhooked Chester’s seat belt. Abby slid out of the driver’s seat just in time to avoid being knocked over as the big German shepherd leaped out of the car and raced to the backyard, where he would sit for hours and watch the squirrels darting up and down tree trunks, in and out of the high grass. But he never chased them, never became aggressive toward them as most other dogs would have. Nope, not Chester. He just liked to watch them play.
Knowing it would be a while before it was time to leave for Malibu, Abby left Chester alone in the backyard to enjoy the squirrels. He was fenced in, so she didn’t have to worry about his taking off, or anyone coming in. Inside the house, she stooped over to pick up her mail the postman pushed through the slot in her front door. She thumbed through four white envelopes, two pizza ads, and a wedding invitation from one of her best friends in Charleston. She used her fingernail to open the invitation. She looked at the date and made a mental note to mark it on her calendar.
In the kitchen, Abby admired the new granite countertops that she’d installed all by herself. It hadn’t been easy, but she hadn’t had to rush. It had taken two weeks of hard work, late nights, and lots of takeout. But the results were well worth it. She felt a sense of pride every time she looked at them, not only because they were spectacular to look at, even if she said so herself, but also because she hadn’t hired outside help. She’d spent three Saturdays at a local hardware store learning exactly what she needed to do the job herself. Soon she was going to have her mother, the godmothers, and Chris over for dinner to reveal her new kitchen.
Tonight’s event—no, event was her mother’s word for a funeral—tonight’s affair had been postponed several times for one reason or another. She’d called her mother that afternoon just to make sure they were still on. Abby felt giddy, but she was also a bit frightened. She’d never attended a séance, so it would be her first. Sophie told her what to expect or not. If, and Abby knew this was a very big if, something or someone were to show themselves, Abby planned to ask questions that only they would know the answer to. If she were lucky, she would have headlines for “News From Beyond,” the new column she’d started two weeks ago. The response had been overwhelming. Her mysterious employer had sent her an e-mail telling her sales were up by 30 percent. This is what she liked to hear. And with this jump in sales, readership had increased, and Abby felt for the first time since she’d been at the helm that The Informer was giving the other two tabloids some healthy competition.
Life was good.
With plenty of time before the night’s performance—she liked that word—Abby went into the master bathroom and turned the water on as hot as she could stand it in her new sunken tub. That was her favorite place to relax. She made sure to unplug the phone and turn off her cell phone before she slid into the hot, bubbly water. She left the back door open for Chester so she wouldn’t have to jump out and let him in. She sank into the heavenly warmth, allowing the jets to massage her sore muscles. Had she not been driving, she would have had a glass of wine, maybe even lit a few of the scented candles she’d placed around the giant tub’s perimeter. Tonight was just to relax for a short while before she left the house. Her mother had invited Chris, but she’d said he wasn’t sure he would attend. He was extremely skeptical on the subject of ghosts, haunting, or anything paranormal. Abby understood. She felt that way about the law. She’d told him that over a romantic dinner two weeks ago. Things with Chris were nice right now. He called her when he could, and she sent him silly e-mails. For now this was enough for both of them. This was the calm before the storm. The spark, the electrical magnetism between them, was almost scary. He’d kissed her on the cheek after dinner, but that had been enough to send bolts of hot desire straight to her center. Just thinking about him turned her on. She wasn’t ready to take their relationship to that level, but it was nice to fantasize. Abby always thought the anticipation was half the fun.
She soaked in the tub for another half hour before she washed her hair and shaved her legs. She wanted to look nice just in case Chris showed up, and for whatever spirit decided to make its presence known.
Abby wrapped a thick bath sheet around her body and a smaller one around her head to soak up the dampness in her thick hair, which took forever to blow-dry. She flicked her CD player on. Norah Jones crooned from the speakers. Abby went to her closet, not sure what to wear. She was just going to her mother’s, so she didn’t have to dress up, but still she wanted to look a little special. Just in case. She chose a pair of dark denim jeans and a white blouse with billowing sleeves. She’d wear a pair of flats just in case Chris showed up and he invited her for a stroll down the beach. Flats could be kicked off easily. She was way ahead of herself, but that was all the fun. Anticipation, she thought as she removed the towel from her head. With a wide-tooth comb, she attacked the mass of heavy curls. Thirty minutes later she’d tamed her hair into soft waves. She decided to wear a little bit of makeup, but not too much. She didn’t want to appear overly done up, as Sophie called it. Pink blush, a light brown eyeliner, black mascara, and a touch of clear gloss on her lips. She looked in the mirror, studied her handiwork. Not too bad, she thought.
She put her towels in the clothes hamper and rinsed out the tub before going out back to bring Chester inside. “Dinnertime,” she calle
d out into the backyard. She heard Chester’s paws as they smacked against the ground. It still amazed her that a single word had the power to bring him running. He bounded through the back door, heading straight for the kitchen. Abby scooped a hearty amount of kibble in his bowl, then added some leftover meat loaf to the mixture. She knew she shouldn’t give him table food, but he liked it, and the vet said he was healthy as ever, so there!
While Chester crunched down his dinner, Abby went through the house locking doors, making sure the timers for the inside and outside lights were set to come on precisely at nine o’clock. When Chester finished, she rinsed out his bowl and dried it with paper towels. She took a handful of treats from his canister and stuffed them inside a plastic bag for later. She carried a bag full in the trunk of her car, but those were trunk treats only to be given in case of an emergency. With nothing left to do, she grabbed her purse, cell phone, and Chester’s leash. “Come on, boy, we’re going to a séance.”
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