Abby Simpson. That was the little hot chick that drove the yellow car. She reported her boss missing. I don’t think so. Micky was sure that was just a lie she’d told the reporter to cover her ass. She knew where Rodwell Godfrey was hiding, and he intended to do whatever he had to get the information out of her. Missing person, my ass.
A day ago, Richard Allen Goodwin had thought Hurricane Deborah a blessing from Mother Nature. Twenty-four hours later, he was sure it was a curse from hell.
He’d attempted a trip outside the hotel, hoping to see what damage there was, maybe find a woman looking to make a few dollars. What he found had not been even close to what he was looking for.
Florida National Guard troops, invited in by the British authorities, were posted everywhere. They were in the hotel lobby, outside on the streets. They were posted outside the casino, which had closed down because the hotel was being powered by generators. The management explained they would only power what was necessary, meaning the casino wasn’t necessary to the owners, but it sure as hell was necessary for him. What other reason would he be here? Did those stupid people really believe that visitors to the Cayman Islands came for the view or the beach? Apparently the dumb-asses did, because they had shut down the casino.
Even worse, he had no way to access his new bank account.
Chapter 33
When Abby learned The Informer was about to go up in smoke, she called the police to report Rag as a missing person. Yes, he’d been missing for more than twenty-four hours, and no, she didn’t suspect he was behind the fire.
Once she’d had time to calm down after learning that the only damage to the building had been in the office area, Abby had a change of heart. It made perfect sense, too. No doubt Rag needed money to pay off whomever he was hiding from. A fire at the paper would be the perfect way to collect on the old building’s insurance policy. But was he still the owner? If he wasn’t, what good would setting a fire do unless he was planning to scam the insurance company?
Of course she’d just heard her name splashed all over the news for reporting her boss missing. It was only a matter of time before Rag or one of his buddies came looking for her. She wanted to call Chris, ask him what she should do, but then she remembered last night’s promise that she wouldn’t ask him any favors. What was it Chris had said? Something about his having a conflict of interest where Rag was concerned. As far as Abby knew, Chris and Rag didn’t even know each other. How was her mother connected to this?
The only way Abby was going to get an answer was to go straight to the horse’s mouth. She placed a call to her mother’s cell phone.
“Abby! I thought you were at the paper. Any news on who started the fire?”
“Nothing yet. I wanted to call and reinvite myself for lunch. Are you and the three Gs still up for it? I want to discuss something with you in private.”
“Absolutely. I didn’t cancel the reservation.”
“Then I’ll meet you there.”
Abby hung up the phone. Chester ran around in circles, his signal that he needed to go out. “You’re going to have to hang out here again, Chester.” Abby opened the French doors. The huge dog raced off.
Twenty minutes later, Abby was zipping down the freeway. She turned the volume up on the radio when she heard The Informer’s name mentioned. The announcer said no one was hurt in the fire, but the building was closed while the blaze was under investigation.
Damn! Damn! Damn!
She was out of a job! She knew something like this was going to happen. That rotten, dirty, scum-eating jerk Rodwell Godfrey better hope the goons who apparently wanted his hide found him before she did. Now what was she supposed to do? She had a mortgage to pay, an animal to care for. Chester’s vet bills were not cheap. Was it poetic justice that her very rich mother just happened to be in Los Angeles? Probably, she thought as she lowered the volume on the radio. Didn’t matter because she would not ask her for one red cent. Somehow or other she would manage. She still had a bit of money tucked away for an emergency. She would dip into it if she had to. As soon as the offices at the paper were cleared, she would go back to work and earn a paycheck.
But then the voice of reason popped into her head. If Rag was nowhere to be found, and the building was shut down for a damned arson investigation, she might as well cut her losses, look for another job. More than likely the new owners would bring in their own staff just as Rag had said.
Maybe The Enquirer or The Globe would hire her. But something told her any connection to Rodwell Godfrey wasn’t going to earn her brownie points in the job market. She should have stayed with the Los Angeles Times, where she could have written boring stories about politicians and their affairs. And it would have been a nine-to-five job.
Oh, the hell with it. All she wanted to know at the moment was what Chris and her mother had in common with the man who was ruining her life.
Abby pulled off the freeway, and within minutes was dropping off her MINI Cooper for valet parking at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
Knowing that her mother and the three Gs would be waiting in the Polo Lounge, Abby went straight to the restaurant, not bothering to call her mother’s cell. She spied Mavis, Sophie, and her mother out on the patio. They waved at her when they saw her heading toward the table.
“Oh, Abby, you look so nice today!” Mavis toddled over to where her goddaughter stood on the opposite side of the table and gave her a big hug.
“And you do, too. I love your new hair color. It’s perfect.”
“Thank you. It was all your mother’s doing,” Mavis said.
“Yes. Mother seems to be doing a little bit of everything these days.” Abby took her seat.
“What is that supposed to mean?” her mother asked. Her stomach immediately started to kick up a fuss.
“You tell me,” Abby said, a bit ticked that her mother and Chris were both keeping her in the dark, sharing secrets. Maybe.
“I would if I knew what you were talking about, Abby, but I don’t. Why don’t you just ask me whatever it is you want to ask. I know you, Abby. You’re miffed.” Toots smiled when the waiter came to the table to take their orders. God forbid anyone in California frowned. And everyone seemed to have the whitest teeth.
“I’ll wait until we’re finished with lunch, if that’s okay with you. I’m starved.”
“Of course it’s okay. Now let’s order.”
They all ordered salads except Abby, who ordered a steak, rare, with a baked potato fully loaded and a side of green beans. It brought back her conversation with Chris the previous night. She should’ve kept her stupid thoughts to herself. He probably thought she’d lost her mind. Just then she didn’t care.
After they’d finished, they discussed the paper’s situation.
“I suspect Rag may have something to do with the fire. He’s in debt up to his neck. I’m sure the building is heavily insured. Rag is probably hiding somewhere just waiting to collect his money so he can gamble it away. That’s if he’s still the owner. By the way, I am officially out of a job. The fire marshals won’t allow anyone inside the building until the investigation is complete. Then, of course, there’s the missing old owner and possibly the absent new owners. I wonder if they even know the paper is no longer operational, at least until the repairs are made and we’re given the go-ahead. All this crap is giving me a terrible headache.”
“I have some aspirin in my purse.” Mavis fumbled through her bag, finally producing a small container of aspirin.
“Thanks.” Abby popped three aspirin, washing them down with her glass of ice tea. How had her life become such a mess? One day it was almost perfect, or as close to perfect as she wanted, then the next day everything went to hell.
“I think I’ll take a walk, then a short nap. I stayed up too late and drank too many Jell-O shots last night. What do you say, Mavis, want to come with me?” Sophie’s knee nudged Mavis, who immediately understood they were to make themselves scarce so Toots and her daughter could talk.
“Yes, of course, I am supposed to walk as much as possible.”
“Abby, spend some time with your mom. We’re going to take a hike,” Sophie said.
Abby hugged her godmothers good-bye. How did she get so lucky to have so many caring women in her life? Her mother of course.
When Sophie and Mavis left, the waiter brought a dessert menu. “I’ll have apple pie and coffee with an extra scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
Abby smiled. Her mother and her sugar addiction. It was a miracle she wasn’t diabetic. “I’ll have the same.”
“So, you want to tell dear old mom what’s going on?”
Abby nodded. “Did you speak with Chris today?”
“I did. I called him this morning. Why? Is he in trouble?” Toots asked, knowing he wasn’t.
“Not that I know of. Last night we had dinner. I told him how worried I was about Rag. I sort of asked him if he would take a look into his so-called disappearance. He told me he couldn’t.”
“Really?”
“He said he was doing a bit of work for you.” There, it was out.
“Yes, he is. I can’t discuss it with you, it’s a…well, it’s a personal issue, Abby. I’m sorry.”
Dumbfounded, Abby said, “That’s it?”
“I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you, Abby. I know we share almost everything, but there are some things a daughter doesn’t need to know about her mother. Now, can we leave it at that?”
Abby shrugged. “I suppose I don’t have a choice. As long as you’re not dying or donating your fortune to a mad scientist, I think I’m okay with allowing my mom to have a few secrets.”
“I can honestly say no to both. Now, I know this is none of my business, but you said you were out of a job. I’m sure it’s just temporary. Is there anything I can do, give you a loan, pay off your mortgage?”
Abby laughed. How like her mother to think she could solve all problems with money. “You know I don’t like taking your money. I’m fine. I’ve got a little bit of savings. I can get by for a while. If I get in a bind, you’ll be the first to know. Thanks, Mom. I know you mean well, but I can’t take the easy way out.”
“Your father was the same way. Stubborn, mule-headed, and as strong-willed as they come. I’m glad you inherited those traits, Abby. I just don’t want you to live from paycheck to paycheck while your dear old mom is alive. You’ll come to me at the first sign of trouble, right?”
“You know I will.”
“Good.”
The waiter returned with their pie and coffee. They made small talk. Abby told her of her plans to work in her courtyard, what she wanted to do with the rest of her house. Both loved decorating, and they got so caught up in discussing the details of what Abby planned to do that they were surprised when they saw they’d lingered over dessert for more than an hour.
“Why don’t you come to the bungalow? I’ll see if we can’t get Ida out of her Clorox condo.”
“Mother, you’re terrible, but I do want to see her before you leave. Speaking of which, how long do you plan to stay? You probably told me but I don’t remember.”
“Oh, a few weeks at least. Ida’s got to work with Dr. Sameer, Mavis loves her personal trainer. Sophie may have to leave early to take care of Walter’s funeral arrangements.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re staying for a while. Now let’s get out of here before our waiter kicks us out. He’s been eyeing us for the last ten minutes.”
Toots added a generous tip to their bill.
Hand in hand, mother and daughter walked down the path leading to the bungalows.
Chapter 34
Sophie lit another cigarette and puffed furiously. Smoking always seemed to help when her jittery nerves got the best of her, but smoking wasn’t working this time around, because her nerves were twanging all over the place. She felt like her head was going to spiral right off her neck and sail away into outer space.
She patted her pockets for her cell phone. No cell phone. Then she remembered that she had left it on the pink marble counter in the bathroom. She took a moment to wonder if she’d deliberately left it behind because she didn’t want to hear it ring.
Back in her bungalow, Sophie ran into the bathroom and looked down at the phone. She’d turned it off earlier and hadn’t turned it back on. She bit down on her lower lip as she stared at the small gadget.
Sophie wished then that she was tougher, more in control. She hated to admit, even to herself, that she didn’t want to be alone when she turned the phone on. She needed Toots for backup. Earlier, Toots had called her room to tell her Abby was visiting with Ida, who had finally agreed to leave her Clorox haven to meet with her goddaughter.
Chalk one up for the Germ Queen.
Sophie jammed the cell phone in her pocket and raced down the pathway that led to Toots’s bungalow. Any other time she would have paid attention to the rainbow of flowers and the emerald green lawn, but not today. A skinny minute later, she was tapping on the sliding glass door. She waited a moment before she stepped inside.
“Hi, Sophie. Mom said you might stop over. Did you enjoy your walk?”
“Actually, I did. Walking always makes me aware of how old I’m getting.”
“Phooey, you’ll be around forever,” Abby teased.
Sophie licked at her dry lips. She homed in on Toots. “Can I talk to you a minute, Toots? In private if you don’t mind.”
Toots glanced at the others. Seeing that they were engrossed in a lighthearted conversation, she motioned for Sophie to follow her into her bedroom.
“You look terrible, Sophie. What’s wrong?” Toots whispered as she closed the door for privacy.
“Remember last night when I told you I turned my cell phone off after I talked with Walter’s nurse?”
“Yes? So?”
“I never turned it back on.”
“What are you waiting for? Turn it on. If it’s bad news, we’ll deal with it.”
Sophie nodded and clicked the POWER button. She saw that she had six messages. Her voice was barely a croak when she said, “There are six messages.”
“Just do it, Sophie,” Toots encouraged.
Sophie listened to the messages. Four messages were from Walter’s nurse, one was from Lila, her neighbor of thirty years, and the last message was from the morgue. Sophie’s hands shook as she deleted the last message. Her eyes filled with tears as Toots wrapped her arms around her.
“It’s okay to be sad, Sophie. It’s okay to cry your eyes out, too.” Toots held her close as Sophie cried like a baby.
Toots reached for a wad of tissues from her nightstand.
Toots helped her to a chair, where Sophie wailed and cried, her arms beating at the arms of the chair until she couldn’t cry anymore. What seemed like a long time later but was in reality no more than ten minutes, Sophie said, “Okay, I’m finished bawling.”
Toots reared back, her eyes full of questions.
“What?”
“Are you sure you’re okay? One minute you’re bawling your eyes out, then, just like that”—she snapped her fingers—you’re done? I clocked you. Exactly ten minutes.”
Sophie’s lips stretched into something that resembled a weak smile. “When something is done, Toots, it’s done. Crying isn’t going to solve anything. I had to cry for the would-haves, the could-haves, the should-haves. I did it. It’s like you wearing black for ten days. You had to do it. Well, I had to cry. End of story.”
Toots burst out laughing. It only took Sophie a minute before she joined in. Another minute, and they were both rolling around on the bed like two teenagers. They laughed until their sides hurt.
“Oh, Sophie, you’re an old broad just like me. We don’t need a man in our lives anymore. I say screw ’em all. Unless, of course, the absolute right one comes along. And then we might have to fall back and regroup.” Both women went off once again into peals of laughter.
“Right now, duty calls. I have to go back and do what I have to do. Wal
ter had no family, so it’s just going to be me and any of his old friends who care to come for his send-off.”
“I have an idea, Sophie. If anyone knows how to plan an event—remember it’s always an event, not a funeral—I do. I’ve done it eight times, so that more or less makes me an expert. After eight husbands, I have the formula down pat. How would you like it if I flew to New York with you? We could have a respectful service, you can take care of your insurance paperwork, then we could shop for a few hours, get you some new Fifth Avenue duds, and jet right back to Los Angeles. Thirty-six hours, tops.”
“You’d do that for me, Toots? Now, with all this mess going on at the paper? God, yes.”
“Of course I will. There isn’t anything I can do about the paper right now. Henry promised me he would do whatever possible to get my money back, though it may take a while, given all the hurricane damage. Chris is working on getting his hacker friend to see exactly what kind of electronic trail he can come up with. All I need to do now is call the airport’s general aviation center. I’ll hire a jet to fly us there and back, so what say you, Sophie Manchester?”
“I say yes, Teresa Loudenberry, or whatever the hell your last name is these days. You’re one hell of a friend, Toots.”
“Stop with the mush before I have to kick your worn-out old ass.”
“How do you know my old ass is worn-out? Walter…never mind…forget Walter. Let’s get out of this bedroom and go tell the others before Ida starts a rumor that we’re lesbians.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Toots asked, serious once more.
“If I told you I used to pray for this day, what would you think of me?”
“Truly? I think I might say something like, why didn’t you help it along? No, I don’t think I’d say that. All good things come to those who wait. That’s how you have to look at it, Sophie. You did what a lot of women wouldn’t have done. You stayed and made sure the son of a bitch spent his last years in comfort. There should be no regrets on your part. Hey, do you want me to sing at the service?”
The Scoop Page 21
