Bernice was seated at the table, with a bird’s-eye view of the man she’d seen carrying the boxes in next door, but before Jamie took it upon herself to introduce him, she raced out of the kitchen into the small powder room at the end of the hall. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Shit, she looked like hell. Quickly, she twisted her loose hair into a French twist, splashed cold water on her face, then pinched her cheeks so hard she almost screamed, but she achieved the desired effect. A rosy glow.
Minutes later, she seated herself at the table again. Jamie was still speaking to the man she now knew was Wade, who had an older brother who didn’t like to eat out. Amazing what you could learn when you were as nosy as she was. Bernice smiled.
Jamie brought a stack of dessert plates to the table, allowing her neighbor a few minutes of privacy in which to make his phone call. “Why, Bernice, you look . . . so different from the way you did minutes ago. I’m honored that you’re cleaning up before our little afternoon snack. My grandmother was always big on coming to the table well groomed.”
Bernice rolled her eyes. “Can’t a woman brush her hair without a fuss being made? I just went to the bathroom and saw how wild I looked, that’s all. Now, where are those brownies? I’m famished all of a sudden.”
“I thought you wanted to give these to our new neighbors over at the old Patterson place? What made you change your mind?” Jamie asked, knowing the answer, but loving to mess with dear old Bernice.
Jamie and Bernice couldn’t help but overhear Wade as he raised his voice. “Are you serious? I was told they would be turned on first thing today. Tomorrow afternoon is the earliest you can turn the power on? Yes, yes, of course I know I’m not the only newcomer in Charleston. A storm? No, I didn’t know that. Well, then I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Wade cleared his throat, his way of letting the girl know he was finished with the phone. She had disappeared for a minute, and he didn’t want to leave without thanking her, and hopefully, she’d remember that she’d just invited him and Robert to join her for whatever the delectable smell was wafting throughout the kitchen.
“We’re over here,” Jamie said. A two-sided fireplace separated the kitchen from the large dining table.
“Well, it looks as though I won’t have power until later tomorrow. Apparently, there is a hurricane headed up the East Coast, and the power company is preparing for massive outages. They said it was headed as far north as New York City. Can you believe that? A hurricane in New York. Beats anything I’ve ever heard.”
“Yes, I’ve been listening to the weather reports. It doesn’t look good,” Jamie said.
Before Jamie had a chance to utter another word, Bernice stood and said, “Oh, hello. I heard someone talking, but I didn’t know who it was. I see you’ve met my granddaughter. I’m Bernice, and you are?” She held her hand out as though she were the queen.
“Wade Powell.” He held out his hand and shook hers. “I was just telling your granddaughter we’re without power. Seems this big hurricane has delayed the power company a bit. I guess we’ll have to dig through all those boxes we have. I’m sure there’s a stray flashlight and a candle or two in them somewhere,” Wade said.
“Well, Granny,” Jamie said, looking at Bernice, “I think we probably have a flashlight or two we could lend them.”
“Nonsense!” Bernice said. “They’ll come and stay with us until their power is on. I insist. We have plenty of extra room here. Plus, we have power.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t impose like that, Bernice. But I will take your granddaughter up on that little snack. If the offer still stands, I’ll just run home and get Robert. Like I said, he doesn’t like to be left alone for very long.”
“Granny, why don’t we ask Wade and Robert to stay in your guesthouse? The last time I checked, it was fully stocked with everything one would need, and then some. And please, Wade, do run along and get your brother. I won’t pour the coffee until you have returned,” Jamie added.
As soon as Wade left, Jamie turned to Bernice. “Granddaughter? Why in the name of all that’s holy did you tell that poor man I was your granddaughter? Not that I mind. You know how much I love you, but isn’t that. . . dishonest?” Jamie asked, obviously confused.
Bernice felt her face turn red, but Jamie would understand. “Listen, I know you and the others don’t believe me when I tell you I was allowed to live so that I could find out what, if anything, is going to happen next door. I just thought it would appear . . . proper if they thought I was the home owner, instead of some old housekeeper who should have been put out to pasture a long time ago.” Bernice knew she sounded like a crazy old woman, but what the heck? She wasn’t out to harm anyone. Toots and the godmothers were in Los Angeles. Who knew when they’d return? And by then, Bernice was sure she could come up with some story as to why she’d lied. But for the moment, well, she just wanted to be queen for a day. Or two.
“Oh, Bernie, you know better. No one feels that way about you. You’re family. But I’ll cover you for now. Your secret is safe, at least for a little while.”
Bernice didn’t know what had come over her. She normally wasn’t one to fabricate things. That was more along Sophie’s line. However, it was already too late to take it back. Later, if she got to know Wade better, she’d tell him the truth.
Ten minutes later, there was another knock on the back door. Wade and Robert stood on the back stoop, looking like two mischievous boys.
“This is Robert, my older brother. Robert, this is Jamie.”
“Come in. It’s nice to meet you, Robert. Please make yourselves at home while I get the coffee. My granny is over there,” Jamie said, motioning in the direction of the huge fireplace. “She’s thrilled to have company.”
The older man, a mirror image of his younger brother minus a few gray hairs, spoke in a soft voice. “It’s a pleasure, my dear.”
As soon as Bernice saw Robert, her heart fluttered, and for a moment, she was sure she was about to suffer another heart attack.
She stood and held a shaky hand out. “Bernice. It’s good to have someone in that old place next door.” Damn, she thought. That wasn’t a very smart way to introduce herself. “We’re very neighborly and have missed having someone to visit.” There, she thought. That sounded like something an old Southern lady would say, even though she was just an old broad from New Jersey.
“Please sit down. Jamie made these brownies. She owns a bakery in town. The Sweetest Things, it’s called. Downtown Charleston. If you’re in the area, stop in. She makes the best pralines in the South.”
The two brothers sat across from Bernice. Jamie brought cups, milk, and sugar to the table, then returned with the pot of coffee. After filling their cups, she served them each a large brownie and wished she had taken the time to ice them, but this would have to do.
“So,” Jamie said after she sat down across from the two brothers. “What brings you to Charleston? These old houses are usually passed down from generation to generation, right, Granny? Why, we’ve had this old place for . . . Heck, I can’t remember. It’s been in the family since long before I was born.”
Bernice gave Jamie the evil eye.
“Atlanta and the traffic. Plus, I lost my wife three years ago. I didn’t want to stay there any longer. When Robert told me he was ready for a change, I decided to make it a big one for both of us. I like to tinker around with old houses. When my Realtor found this place, I flew in, checked it out, and as soon as I sold my house, well, here I am.”
“You must have been here when Granny was in the hospital, having her bypass surgery.”
Bernice kicked Jamie under the table. The brat.
Robert’s eyes lit up like a candle. “You had bypass surgery, too? I had mine two years ago. Never felt better in my life.”
Suddenly, Bernice felt like she’d found a kindred spirit. “Me too. Why don’t you tell me all about yours, and I’ll tell you all about mine?”
For the next two hours, they al
l talked about their surgeries and whatever else came to mind. When the phone rang, Jamie was surprised to see how long they’d been sitting at the table. She hurried over to get the phone.
“Toots! Abby’s coming home today? Hang on. I’ll let you tell her yourself. She’s right here.”
“Granny, Toots wants to speak to you,” she said as she gave Bernice the phone.
Bernice put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Excuse me,” she said to her neighbors. “This is my . . . sister. She lives here with me, too.”
Chapter 34
Abby refused to wear the clothes she’d worn the night before when the nurse brought them to her, sealed in a plastic bag with her name and room number marked in black letters. She never wanted to see anything that reminded her of Rag ever again. She’d asked for a pair of clean scrubs to wear home. She’d been allowed to take a shower while Chris took care of her discharge paperwork. Wanting to luxuriate under the hot spray to wash away the sweat and grime from hours spent in that closet, she didn’t, because she knew she had very little time to accomplish what she wanted to do before Chris returned to the room. She quickly ran the bar of soap over her body. She’d insisted they remove her bandages. Though bruised and tender, she really was no worse for wear. She looked like she’d been the victim of a beating, but her adrenaline was pumping so fast, she barely felt any pain.
Donning the aqua green–colored scrubs the nurse had provided, along with a pair of cotton slippers, Abby raced out of her room before she had any second thoughts about what she was going to do.
At the end of the hall, she spied an information desk. A young girl chewing gum as though her life depended on it was manning the desk.
“Excuse me,” Abby said in her best Valley girl–like voice. “My, uh, friend was, like, brought in here, like, uh, last night. And he, like, needed me to bring a few things. His name is Rodwell Godfrey. He, like, uh, forgot to give me his room number. I think he was, like, kinda out of it when he called.”
The gum chomper tapped a few keys on the computer, then spoke. “He’s on the security floor. Cool,” the girl said. “Room two sixty-nine.”
“Thanks,” Abby said, then hurried away. She didn’t have much time. She spotted a bank of elevators and practically ran when she saw the doors swish open. Every second counted.
Having formed something of a half-assed plan, knowing that Rag was being guarded, she crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t get caught. The doors opened, and she saw several signs with arrows pointing in all directions. When she saw the sign indicating the room number she was headed for, she walked so fast, she had to force herself to slow down. That was as far as she’d planned. She needed an excuse to go inside the room. Abby saw a waiting room reserved for guests. Inside, there were stacks of magazines and paperback novels. She grabbed several magazines and three books.
Slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to herself, she carried the stack of reading material close against her chest, yet kept her head lowered, just in case someone were to get a good look at her. Her face was a bit swollen, and there were marks that she couldn’t hide.
As soon as she saw the guard outside Rag’s room, she knew her task wasn’t going to be nearly as tough as she thought. The guard didn’t look a day over twenty-one, and Abby knew this couldn’t be the former Secret Service agent she’d been told had the unpleasant duty of watching over Rag until the Feds took over. Maybe they were on break, went to the restroom, whatever; it didn’t matter. Now was her opportunity, and she’d best take advantage of it.
She saw the guy and figured that since her dumb Valley girl had worked on the gum chomper downstairs, it would probably work on this guy, too. She stood outside the door where he was seated, then cleared her throat. That got his attention. Abby was sure he was playing a game on his cell phone. Some security guard he was. “Hey, howzit goin’?”
“Oh, yes. Fine,” the guard said.
“I’m supposed to, like, uh . . . offer the patient some like . . . uh, reading stuff. Do you mind if I step inside the room for a sec?” Abby actually batted her lashes at the kid.
“Uh, sure. Why not?”
“Cool. Thanks, man,” Abby said before entering the room.
Inside, Rag was handcuffed to the bed with one hand, and the other had an IV line attached to the inside of his wrist. Good, she thought.
He appeared to be unconscious, but she didn’t care.
“Hey, you dirtbag.” She leaned as close to his ear as possible. She saw his eyeballs move underneath his eyelids. This son of a bitch was no more in a coma now than she was. Just to make sure, she grabbed his earlobe and twisted it as hard as she could.
“Ouch! What the fuck!” Rag said in a voice that spoke volumes. He was not in a coma any longer.
“Hey there. I guess I should ask how you’re feeling.” She continued to twist his ear. “If you make one little sound, I swear to you, I will cut your balls off. Let me see if I remember this correctly? Hmm, you’re going to be on an island somewhere, with millions of dollars, and I was going to be locked in a closet. How’s that workin’ out for you? Just so you know, that CEO of LAT Enterprise you spoke with just happens to be my mother, and you, my old friend, fucked with the wrong woman. Just for the record, kidnapping is punishable by death. I’ll see you at the trial, but let me give you a word of advice. Save the taxpayers money and plead it out. You might see the light of day before you’re a centenarian.”
He moaned, and Abby released her grip on his ear. Just for good measure, she doubled her fist and, giving it all she had, punched him squarely in the nose. Blood spurted from his nose. With his one free hand, he reached to stop the flow of blood spewing from his nose.
Abby grabbed his head. “Nope, can’t do that. Sorry.” Abby spied a roll of gauze on the table beside the bed. She wiped the blood from his face but made sure to use as much pressure as she could. “Don’t you dare scream, you pussy. Remember, the balls.”
After she’d wiped the blood from his face, she pulled the covers down to the foot of the bed. Knowing the image would haunt her later, but wanting this son of a bitch to experience just a tenth of the humiliation she’d had to endure at his hands, she yanked open the pale blue hospital gown he wore, leaving his genitals exposed for all to see. Wanting to leave a lasting impression, she looked at him, and said, “Remember, the balls, okay?”
Grabbing the stack of magazines and the three books she’d brought inside the room, she left one of the paperbacks, titled Retribution, on his tray table.
As she raced out of the room, Abby grinned when she said to the guy, “See ya.”
The security here was pathetic. She’d remember this if she was ever hospitalized again. Hurrying to the elevators, she lucked out again when the doors opened the second she reached them. When she reached her floor, she saw Chris walking around in her room.
Shit!
She’d eventually tell him where she’d been, but not just then. Later. For now, she wanted to enjoy the few minutes of fear, pain, and embarrassment she’d caused. Paybacks were a bitch. Account paid in full.
“Hey, I was looking for you,” Chris said as he spied her heading to her room.
“I went in search of a Coke machine. Then it dawned on me: I didn’t have any money.”
Chris looked at her, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Abby, whatever you say.”
With that, a nurse pushing a wheelchair came out of her room. “Miss Simpson, it’s hospital policy that all patients leave in a wheelchair.”
“Okay, no problem,” Abby said. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought of the little shriveled-up image that would greet the next unlucky soul to enter Rag’s room.
Chapter 35
For the hundredth time in a little over twenty-four hours, Toots’s eyes filled with tears. Damn, she was becoming a frigging caterwauling old woman. “Phil,” she said when they pulled up to the passenger drop-off at LAX, “I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve
been.”
Goebel and Sophie waited in the Escalade while they said their good-byes.
“You’ll call me as soon as you’re in Charleston? Let me know you landed?” Toots asked.
“I will. And when you return to Charleston, will you promise me we’ll go on that second date?”
“Oh no, I think we’re way past that now. After all we’ve been through, I think we can jump ahead to that third date.”
Phil raised his eyebrows up and down Groucho Marx style. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
Toots chuckled. “You’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you?” Not only was she turning into a crybaby in her old age, but she could also add prick teaser to the list.
Phil kissed her then, stopping further conversation. Toots’s world was spinning. In a good way. “Tell Abby hello, and I can’t wait to get to know her better.”
“I will. Good-bye, Phil.” Before she started bawling again, she jumped into the backseat of the Escalade. “If you say one word, I swear I will slice your tits off with a dull knife,” Toots said to Sophie.
Goebel laughed out loud. “Remind me to never get on your bad side,” he said as he pulled into the flow of traffic leading out of LAX.
Sophie grinned. “She’s all talk.”
“Shut up,” Toots said, then blew her nose.
“Wait a minute. Aren’t you the one that said ‘I’ll never get involved with another man,’ or something to that effect? Yes, I am sure it was you. And look at you now. You’ve been on one lousy date with a guy, and now you’re acting like a baby because he had to leave just to go cut someone’s heart out.”
Toots shook her head. “Sophie, you never mince words, do you? The past forty-eight hours have been some of the worst in my life. I would appreciate a little compassion, you old witch.”
“Do you two ever say anything nice to each other?” Goebel asked.
Sophie looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Damn, I thought this was nice, didn’t you, Toots?”
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