Dewitt, Casey thought.
“Mother, you need to get help. Maybe Blake or Adam will know of a good doctor.” Casey walked toward her mother, who stood at the tip of the bow.
“No, that will never happen! I’m Eve Worthington, matriarch of the family. I’m somebody now, can’t you see that?” Tears flowed freely down her mother’s face. They were approaching the coastline, and Casey’s vision blurred from her own tears.
“I’m not that poor white trash anymore! Don’t you get it! I’ll never have to wear somebody’s used dresses, never have to hang my head in shame! Never! I’m somebody now! I’m Eve Worthington!” Her mother’s cries were pitiful.
Casey took a step toward her mother, her hand held out, reaching for her. “C’mon, Momma, let’s go below. We’re almost there, now.”
“No! You’ll never see me in a place like that!” her mother shouted, raising her fists high above her. “Never!”
Before Casey could grab on to her mother’s outstretched hand, a whirl of pale pink Chanel hurled itself over the bow into the blackish green depth of the murky water below.
Epilogue
The sheer lace curtains billowed as the cool autumn breeze wafted through the partially open window. The soft tinkle of wind chimes created a mellow tune for the frogs and crickets who harmonized in the background.
A faint cry stirred the woman in bed. She rolled over and reached for the pillow next to her. Finding it empty, she came fully awake. Slipping her feet into the red slippers placed on the floor next to her bed, she went in search of the sound.
“You should be sleeping,” Casey said to Blake. “Too many late nights at the hospital. Here,” she said, reaching for the infant, cuddling him in her arms.
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” She sat in the rocker next to the cradle Adam had given his godson on the day he was born. She continued to rock Jonathan Adam Blakely Hunter until his cries stopped.
Casey held her son close to her and breathed in his clean, powdery baby scent. She looked down at his sleeping face and marveled that he belonged to her. With his black curly hair and Blake’s mahogany-colored eyes, her son was sure to be a heart-breaker in the years to come.
“This will be the first time I’ve gone out socially since John’s birth. I’m looking forward to it,” Casey said. “Two months already!”
“So am I. Flora and Mabel have prepared a feast, according to Julie. Said she’d never seen so much food for a little baby’s christening.”
“Well, I’m sure between you and that stepbrother of mine, there won’t be any leftovers.” Casey laughed.
“I’m glad you and Adam get along so well. I told you he was an okay kind of guy.” Blake ran a hand across his son’s cheek, then kissed his fingertip and dotted it on the tip of Casey’s nose.
“We’ve really become close this last year. And John treats me like a daughter. I feel so lucky, Blake. In spite of . . . well, in spite of it all.”
“Me, too, but hey, let’s not let the past cloud our future.”
“I’m not, but so many people’s lives were hurt because of my mother and Robert Bentley’s greed.” Casey looked out the window, remembering Robert’s attempt to run her down, the terrifying phone calls, the glass her mother put in the bottle of lotion. All those terrible “accidents” in the hope that she’d go over the edge and they could send her back to Sanctuary. Hank’s feeble effort to harm her. Casey often thought of the child she’d carried, fathered by Ronnie, and knew her miscarriage had been a blessing.
She needed to remember the few good times, too. She remembered her grandmother Gracie and all the good times she’d had with her father and Flora. She even remembered Kyle, and their so-called relationship, and was thankful they’d never consummated it. And her love for Blake had been the bright light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Had she not kept that thought close to her heart, she didn’t know if she could’ve made it. With Adam’s help she’d found a good therapist, who was amazed at Casey’s progress; she’d told her so on her last visit.
“Stop and think, honey, how lucky they were. Robert and Norma both lived, though I’m sure Robert would rather be elsewhere. I can’t see him adjusting to prison life.”
“I know,” Casey said, “and I’m truly thankful he survived, though at the time I wanted him to die. He had his hand in everything, didn’t he?”
Blake stood behind his wife as she rocked back and forth. “That he did. A shame about Dewitt, though. I guess he couldn’t stand the thought of being punished for killing that poor girl. It was ironic how he hung himself in the same apartment building he killed her in.”
“It is. And poor Dr. Macklin, his career almost ruined. You know”—Casey looked up into Blake’s eyes as he stood above her—“I thought I would hate him for allowing Bentley to keep me drugged all those years, but I don’t. I heard some people in town talking about him last week. They said he’s doing quite well in Europe.”
“That’s what I love about you, you’re forgiving, kind, decent, a loving wife and mother, not to mention, sexy as hell.”
“Go on,” Casey prompted.
“Do you have all day?”
“And that’s why I love you so. We started off on rough ground, didn’t we?”
“And it’s been smooth sailing ever since. And if you don’t get up and get your tush in gear, we’re going to be late.” Blake took baby John from her and gently placed his sleeping son in his bassinet.
“You still want to go alone?” Blake asked.
“If I’m ever to have any closure, I need to do this. I can’t let this darkness taint our future. I have a son to care for, a husband to love. I’m somebody now.” Casey recalled her mother’s words.
“We won’t get started until you get there. Get this, Parker’s actually bringing a date.”
Casey stood up and peered at her beautiful, perfect son. “You won’t be able to start because I’m taking the merchandise with me. Who’s Parker bringing anyway?”
“Brenda.” Blake threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“You’re not serious! An interesting couple. Blake, do you think John and Flora will ever, you know, make the connection?” Casey asked as she walked down the long hall of Adam’s old beach house, now her and Blake’s temporary home while their dream home was being built.
Blake followed his wife to the bathroom and watched as she removed her clothes and stood under the shower. “I think they made the connection a long time ago, it’s just taken it a while to spark.”
“I’m glad for them. I really love her, you know.”
“I do, and I also know this, if you don’t get dressed, you’re going to be late, and then you’ll have to explain to Father Troy why.”
Casey stepped out of the shower into her husband’s arms. Safe. He never failed to make her feel safe. She couldn’t believe how good her life was.
She checked her son’s car seat one last time before settling herself in the driver’s seat. Blake had taught her to drive right after they were married, and in honor of receiving her license at the tender age of twenty-nine, he’d given her the bright yellow bug as a gift.
She was careful, driving slow. The light of her life rested in the backseat, and she would do whatever it took to protect him. Today was another step in protecting her son. She needed this final closure, the end, so she could finally free herself of the nightmarish relationship she’d endured as a child.
She pulled the bright yellow VW into the Sanctuary parking lot. She needed to see, to make sure. She’d gone over this a million times in her head. After John’s birth, she had known this day would come. It had to, if she was ever to free herself from the past.
With her son cradled in her arms, Casey stood on the steps of the dilapidated building she had called home for ten years. Casting a glance at the second floor, she spied her former room. The very room that had held her captive for ten long years now imprisoned her mother.
Casey saw the shadow at the window
and headed back to her car, to her life. A thrill tingled down her spine, and her belly knotted in anticipation. For the first time in her adult life, she was free.
Truly free.
For the first time the menfolk are stepping out of the pages of #1 New York Times bestselling author Fern Michaels’s beloved Sisterhood series and into the spotlight....
DOUBLE DOWN
After years of standing by their womenfolk, the Sisterhood’s significant others have also become loyal friends. And now Jack Emery, Nikki’s husband, has enlisted Ted, Joe, Jay, Bert, Dennis, and Abner to form a top-secret organization known as BOLO Consultants.
Jack has two missions in mind. The first: offering some behind-the-scenes help to Nikki’s law firm as they take on the all-powerful Andover Pharmaceuticals. Andover’s anti-leukemia drug causes terrible side effects in young patients, but a class-action suit seems doomed to fail. BOLO Consultants have a prescription to cure that. Meanwhile, Virginia’s lieutenant governor has a sideline as a slum landlord, and his impoverished tenants are suffering. Tyler Sandford believes his status puts him above the law. But when the Sisterhood and their allies decide to get involved, no one is beyond the reach of true justice....
Turn the page for a special excerpt!
A Zebra mass-market and e-book on sale October 2015.
Chapter 1
Jack Emery propped his chin on his cupped hands and looked out the window of the Bagel Emporium at the blustery weather outside. His thoughts traveled back in time to a year ago, to the last day that Emanuel Macklin was seen. A lot had happened in the past year. Much of his life, and the lives of his friends, had been turned upside down. And sometimes he had a hard time coming to terms with the way all of it had happened at what seemed to be the speed of light.
He was a free agent these days. Right after the first of the year, he’d left his wife’s, Nikki’s, law firm, with her reluctant approval, supposedly to write a book. It was something that never happened. He’d done some consulting work for a few months, but that hadn’t worked either. He’d then stepped into his old shoes at the district attorney’s office, prosecuted two cases, and walked away. He’d won both cases but they were both on appeal. Some smart-ass defense attorney would come up with some frigging loophole, and the bad guys would be right back out on the street. So, disillusioned, he’d thrown in the towel and walked away, frustrated and angry at a criminal justice system that seemed to coddle the criminals and leave the good guys, the victims, to fend for themselves.
Jack’s eyes were glued to the redbrick building across the street from where he was sitting. His building. Well, not totally his. He, along with Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, Harry Wong, Bert Navarro, and Jay Sparrow, owned the building. They’d invested the bonus money they’d gotten years ago when they worked for Hank Jellicoe, money that none of them had ever touched until a few months ago, when he convinced his little band of avengers that this was what they needed to do. This meaning buying the six-thousand-square-foot brick building, refurbishing it, and going into business together. Into a business that was completely off the grid. And today was move-in day.
In a shopping bag at his feet, he had a bottle of champagne, crystal wine flutes, and a jug of tea for Harry so they could christen their new business in—he looked down at his watch—ten more minutes. Next to the shopping bag was Cyrus, a huge, sleek, 140-pound black German shepherd, who was his new best friend forever. Cyrus was two years old and, as far as Jack was concerned, half human and half dog. Cyrus was so in tune with Jack, he knew what Jack was going to do before Jack knew himself.
Four months ago, he had stopped in for his morning bagel while Cyrus waited outside. While he waited in line for his coffee and bagel, the door opened, and a man bellowed, “Everyone on the floor!” As he was dropping to the floor to obey the robber’s orders, Jack saw a black streak clear the door with inches to spare. In the blink of an eye, all 140 pounds of ferocious dog propelled the robber to the floor, then sat on him. Jack, in a lightning move, scooped up the gun the man had been brandishing while Domingo Lopez, known to his patrons as Ding, called the police. Cyrus was the hero of the day, and, as Ding said, “I don’t care what the Health Department’s rules are, Cyrus can come in here anytime.” His patrons agreed, and everyone else looked the other way. Jack reached down to par the magnificent dog on the head. Cyrus nuzzled his hand.
Jack returned to his thoughts as he stared out the window. The weatherman had predicted a possibility of snow flurries later in the day. It was, after all, December, so snow flurries were to be expected. Just like last year, when the same prediction led to three weeks of arctic air and so much snow that the District had to shut down because there was nowhere else to move the white stuff.
So much had happened during that short period of time. Charles Martin had flown the coop, Jack and Nikki had hit a rough patch, and he’d resigned, to her initial chagrin. But in the end, she agreed because she just wanted him to be happy with his life. During the past year, her twelve-member all-female law finn took on six new associates and seven new paralegals. The expansion was needed to deal with three class-action lawsuits that would make the firm kazillions of dollars. If the workload didn’t kill everyone first. All they had to do was work twenty hours a day to make it happen. Sometimes, he didn’t see or talk to his wife for days at a time. What the hell kind of life was that? Things were still sticky between the two of them, but they were both trying to work it all through. Alexis Thorn, Joe Espinosa’s significant other, had given Espinosa the boot shortly before Valentine’s Day, saying she preferred her job to a relationship, and she hoped that he understood that she couldn’t do both. Espinosa did not understand, any more than Jack did. They’d cried into their beers way too many times the last ten months.
Maggie Spritzer was back at the Post as the EIC after John Cassidy resigned because he didn’t have enough time to go fly-fishing. It had taken a lot of sweet-talking on Annie de Silva’s part to get Maggie back in harness, but, finally, all the perks Annie dangled in front of Maggie won her over, and she was once again calling the shots at the Post. Not a bad thing, Jack had decided at the time. Or as Ted put it, “She’s out of our hair for now.”
Jack’s little “guy group,” as he called it, had three new exclusive members and one long-distance member. The other members referred to it as “an off-the-grid spy group,” whatever the hell that meant. The name conjured up all kinds of weird images and possible scenarios. Bert Navarro was the long-distance member. Dennis West, cub reporter, and Ted Robinson, hero worshipper, as well as a new billionaire, Abner Tookus, hacker extraordinaire, and Jack Sparrow, who out of necessity was called Jay for a little while, were the latest recruits to the off-the-grid avengers club.
Jack let his thoughts wander to Myra and Annie, who had settled in for the long winter ahead. The last time he’d checked with Myra, she was knitting. Knitting. She’d said she was making a scarf that was two miles long, and she needed a wagon to carry it in. Or, as Annie put it, one long line of colored yarn filled with sloppy stitches. Annie said she was taking cooking lessons and brushing up on her pole dancing. She had mumbled something about feathers on shoes, or maybe it was her white cowboy boots that she always wore, but he hadn’t understood a word of what she was saying. What he did understand was that, unlike the others, who were running themselves ragged, she and Myra were bored out of their minds.
Women! He would never understand them. Never!
Isabelle Flanders Tookus was still in England, designing a new-age city, and had no downtime available for Abner, which pretty much left him at loose ends and ready to dive into the guy group. Yoko, it appeared, at least according to Harry, was happier than a pig in a mud slide with her plant nursery and raising Lily, which left precious little time for Harry, who these days was meaner than a wet cat on a treadmill.
Kathryn Lucas, fiancée of Bert Navarro, thrived on driving the open roads in her eighteen-wheeler, making two stops a month in Las Vegas for, as Bert put it, boo
ty calls. He also said theirs would be the longest engagement in history because Kathryn had no intention of ever marrying again. Bert said he was okay with the engagement because he had no other options, and he loved Kathryn heart and soul.
Cyrus raised his head, then reared up. He’d heard the sound of Harry’s Ducati before Jack had. “Okay, big guy, do your thing while I pay the bill.” Doing his thing meant going from table to table to offer up his paw and, with luck, get a little treat from his friends at the other tables. When he finished his rounds, he barked, and Ding came out from behind the counter and handed the big dog a monster dog treat. Cyrus barked, offered up his paw, and waited for Jack to open the door. Ham that he was, Cyrus turned and bowed. The patrons loved it and always clapped. Jack said, “You are the biggest ham I’ve ever seen, Cyrus. Hero worship is a sin. Do you know that?” Cyrus barked, waited for a break in traffic, and raced across the road to greet Harry, who obligingly ruffled his ears.
“Hi, Harry!”
“Hi, Jack!”
“Let’s walk around back so we can all go in together. I want us all to oooh and aaah at the same time. Ted just turned the corner, and I think I saw Sparrow come in from the other direction. Haven’t seen Abner yet, though. Oops, there he goes. How’s it going, Harry?”
“It’s going, Jack. You?”
“It’s going, Harry. You up for this gig?”
Never long on words, Harry said, “I’m here.”
“Let’s do it!” Jack said as he picked up his feet and raced to the back alley behind the newly remodeled property, where the guys were waiting for them. Cyrus barked a greeting, then offered his paw. It was a ritual that had to be observed, or Cyrus would bark relentlessly until the others made it happen. Satisfied that he had all the attention he needed, the big dog stood back while Jack allowed the retina scanner to check his eyeball, then listened for the hydraulic hiss of the door opening at their new, off-the-grid digs.
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