Late Edition

by Fern Michaels

  A tabloid newspaper, a fashion designer, and a bakery. And she couldn’t forget Sophie. A medium. After all, she did speak to dead people. Never in a zillion years had she imagined her golden years would be quite this exciting. She realized now why they were called the golden years.

  Downstairs, in the formal living room, Pete had set up four square tables. Where they came from she hadn’t a clue and didn’t care. He’d oiled and primed her three barely used sewing machines, placing each one on a table. He’d moved Mavis’s machine downstairs so she could sew with the rest of them. It resembled a mini-factory, minus the sweaty, overworked, and underpaid laborers, although they might be sweaty and overworked before things were done, and three of them weren’t getting paid anything at all.

  Mavis and Sophie leaned over their machines, each with several colored straight pins hanging from her mouth. Coco’s palace had been relocated next to the fireplace. Bernice went home for the night, explaining she was expecting a call from her one and only son. Toots knew the call would never come. That was another story, one that would only break poor Bernice’s heart. One could always hope, Toots thought.

  “Aren’t we a bunch of busy little worker bees,” Toots said as she observed Sophie and Mavis at their machines.

  Mavis removed the pins from her mouth. “Not for long. I only have enough material left to make one more complete outfit. Then I’m done. That will leave me about thirty more orders left to fill, unless a miracle happens. I’m going to have to refund these poor people their money. FedEx will pick up the orders I’ve filled first thing in the morning. After that, I guess I’ll have to hang up my CLOSED sign,” Mavis said.

  “Not so fast. I just got off the phone with Catherine. She has an idea, and I think it might work, even if it’s a long shot. Still, we have nothing to lose. You want to hear what it is?” Toots asked.

  “Of course I want to hear it. If there’s even the slightest chance that I can save my business, I want to hear it. What’s the plan?” Mavis asked.

  Toots seemed almost hesitant to tell her what Catherine had suggested. “This is way far off the mark, but I think it’s doable. Sort of.”

  Sophie spit the pins out of her mouth and into her hand. “Then spit it out,” Sophie said, laughing at her own play on words. “Don’t keep us in suspense any longer.”

  “Where is Ida?”

  “She’s in her room, downloading the South Carolina driver’s manual from the Internet. She said she was going to start studying before she took driving lessons because she didn’t want to appear stupid. Personally, I think it will take much more than a driving lesson to wipe the stupid off Ida’s face.” Sophie grinned.

  “That’s a mean thing to say,” Mavis quipped.

  “And you’re looking at a very mean and evil woman,” Toots said, sending daggers Sophie’s way.

  “Damn straight,” Sophie said, still grinning.

  “I know you’re talking about me,” Ida said as she marched into the formal living room. She held a stack of printed papers as thick as a phone book against her chest.

  “You didn’t say you were going to get War and Peace. I thought you were simply going to download a driving manual,” Sophie said.

  Ida plunked the stack of papers down on the end of the sofa. “This is the driving manual.”

  Now that three of the most important people in her life were gathered in her living room, Toots figured it was now or never. “I was just going to ask you to come downstairs. I have something I want to discuss with all of you.”

  “You bought another business?” Sophie teased.

  Toots rolled her eyes. “No, I haven’t bought another business, you silly ass. What do you think I am? Crazy?”

  Sophie stopped the sewing machine long enough to look her directly in the face. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face. Besides, you’re not a very good liar.”

  “The hell you say. I kept Walter’s abuse hidden from you for most of my life. I did a lot of lying, scheming, and sneaking in my day, so do not tell me I’m not a good liar.”

  That immediately sobered Toots.

  Poor Sophie. No wonder she was as hard as a coconut shell. She’d had a rough time for most of her married life, putting up her defenses, trying to get through each day without a slap on the face or a broken arm. Toots needed to remember that, and so did Ida and Mavis.

  “Okay, you’re an excellent liar. Are you satisfied?”

  “Say what you have to say,” Sophie said.

  “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was telling Mavis and Sophie I spoke with Catherine on the phone. Seems she used to date a guy named Frank Dunhurst, who’s head of security at that warehouse that’s holding Mavis’s material hostage.” Toots let her words sink in before she continued. “Apparently, Frank is a man whore.”

  All eyes focused on Ida.

  “How dare you? I’m not a whore! I just happen to like men.”

  Sophie snickered. Mavis cupped a hand over her mouth. Toots simply rolled her eyes, praying they wouldn’t get stuck in an east-west position.

  “The truth hurts,” Sophie teased.

  “Enough already!” Toots shouted, her frustration level way too high. It was a good thing she didn’t have a weapon close by, or she would’ve conked Sophie on the head or smacked her in her mouth.

  Toots placed both hands on her hips. “If you all want to help Mavis, you better listen up!”

  Chapter 16

  “Let’s not argue. Tell me what Catherine suggested,” Mavis said.

  “As I was explaining before I was so rudely interrupted by Sophie, Catherine used to date this Frank, who just so happens to be head of security for Mr. King. Ida, this might be where you come in handy, so please don’t take it personally. Apparently Frank is something of a ladies’ man. Catherine says he’s an easy mark. Now, you all know I swore off men the day I buried Leland, that cheapskate. I don’t know if any man would get near Sophie with a ten-foot pole given that mean, crude mouth of hers. And, Mavis, I’m not sure you’re skilled enough to pull off what we need to do in order to get Frank to open the doors to that warehouse.”

  Toots looked at all the women gathered in her living room. Never had she seen a more shocked group of women, minus Sophie, than she did at this exact moment.

  Ida was the first to speak up. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I’ll do whatever it is, within reason, of course, to help Mavis. Just for the record, I want you all to know that I have sworn off men since that ordeal with that . . . pervert.”

  Toots knew how to butter Ida’s bread. She was about to add a layer of very sweet honey on top, with an extra pat of butter. “I’m sure you have.” Again, it took all of Toots’s willpower not to roll her eyes at Ida’s words.

  Toots went on to say, “Out of the four of us, you’re the prettiest, the best dressed, the most sophisticated. You know your way around a man. I mean . . . men are putty in your hands. Catherine is a very beautiful woman herself, and I’ve known her for years. She wouldn’t go out with a slob, or a man who is what we might deem unattractive. If you’re willing to take a chance, then we need to formalize plan B.”

  “Just tell me what I need to do,” Ida said.

  Toots held her palm out in front of her. “Don’t even go there, Sophie.”

  Sophie crammed the gray material underneath the sewing machine needle. With her right foot, she pushed the pedal as fast as it would go. When she’d ripped about a foot of material through the sewing machine’s sharp needle, she pulled the cloth out, bit the thread off, then tossed a finished skirt onto the sofa. “I haven’t said a word.”

  Mavis spoke up. “Just tell us the plan. If there is the slightest hope that I can get these orders finished within, say, a week max, then I will be okay. I have a disclaimer on my Web site that says, ‘Allow ten to fourteen days for delivery.’ I haven’t had the need to make use of the allotted time, but as I said, if there’s the slightest cha
nce I can get that material, I’ll take it.”

  Toots had the glimmerings of a plan in her mind. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll make a pot of coffee. Mavis, run upstairs and get my laptop. Sophie, open a fresh pack of cigarettes. Ida, find the sexiest outfit you own. This is going to be a long night.”

  Ten minutes later, they were gathered around the kitchen table, which seemed to be the center of all their gatherings—sort of like a command center. Toots booted up her laptop and downloaded the latest version of Google Earth.

  “To get started, I’ll need an address. Mavis?”

  Mavis held out a slip of paper with the address for the warehouse written in capital letters. Toots clicked away at the computer keyboard and within seconds had a satellite view of the building. She moved the mouse around, clicked several times, bringing the warehouse into full view. Having used Google Earth in the past, Toots was quite familiar with its contents. She wiggled the mouse around again, and this time a date appeared on the bottom corner of the computer’s monitor. It revealed the satellite image was only three weeks old, which was as good as could reasonably be expected. Better, even.

  “See this?” Toots positioned her laptop so the others could see what she was looking at. A perfectly clear image of the locked gate filled the computer screen. “We have to get this close in order to make this work.” Toots allowed the women time to absorb what they were looking at. “This is where I’m supposed to say I’m open for suggestions.”

  “Why not just have Ida throw herself at the man? She’s an expert at that,” Sophie said. “All you have to do is stand outside the gate, shake your ass, act like you’re lost. Men love it when you ask them for directions. You’ll have Frank eating out of your hand in a minute flat.”

  Ida raised a sculpted brow in Sophie’s direction. “You seem to know all the answers. Why don’t you try to seduce this Frank?”

  “I’m too ugly, remember? Besides, I hate men,” Sophie remembered to add. “Not that I’m a lesbian or anything.”

  “Who said you were ugly?” Toots asked as she homed in on the image. She clicked a few more keys, then saved the image in a .jpg file. “There!”

  “Walter used to tell me that all the time. Why? Does it matter?”

  Toots looked away from the computer. “It must matter to you if it’s coming out of your mouth, Sophie. And just for the record, you aren’t the least bit ugly. Walter was an ugly, mean man. He was miserable in his own skin and wanted to take it out on you. He isn’t even a decent ghost.”

  Sophie smiled, and this time it reached her dark brown eyes. “That’s why you’re my best friend, Toots. You sure know how to make a gal feel good about herself. Even though I don’t believe one freaking word of what you just said.”

  “How is it we always get distracted from the matter at hand?” Toots asked no one in particular. “We’re supposed to be working on plan B.”

  “Yes, and we don’t have all night, either,” Mavis added. “I mean . . . we’re going to do this tonight, aren’t we?”

  Toots hadn’t thought that far ahead, but Mavis was right. If they were going to plan a seduction, what better time than late on a Friday night?

  “Ida, what about it?” Toots asked. She looked at her watch. “In an hour, can you be ready to . . . lay it on thick?”

  “I’ll make sure I’m ready in an hour,” Ida said smugly. Without another word, Ida walked out of the kitchen, her head held as high as the queen of England held hers. Reminded Toots of Coco, too. Queen of all canines, or at least she thought she was.

  After Ida left the room, Sophie spoke up. “It really doesn’t make any sense. We can’t just drop Ida off like some Forty-second Street prostitute and expect her to know exactly what bolts of material Mavis will need, how much, where it’s located, yada yada yada.” Sophie lifted her hands up in the air and made quote signs with her index fingers.

  “Like I said, I haven’t gotten that far. I’m open for suggestions.” Toots clicked the computer keyboard, closing the Google Earth program.

  “I don’t know where the fabric is, either,” Mavis said.

  “What you’re saying is, we’re going to have to get inside that warehouse, and you’re going to have to have what? Fifteen minutes, possibly thirty minutes to search for this particular material?” Toots asked.

  Suddenly, Mavis seemed unsure of herself, as if she’d really bitten off more than she could chew. “I didn’t think that far ahead. Is there any way we could ask this Frank where that particular material is located?” Mavis asked skeptically.

  Mavis was extremely naive, Toots thought. “I don’t know. I think this is going to be one of those play-it-by-ear deals. Between me and Sophie and you, we should be able to locate this precious fabric in what? Fifteen minutes?”

  “You’re willing to go to all this trouble just for me? Good God Almighty! You know we could get caught. What if we get caught and go to jail?”

  “Then I will simply call Chris and have him bail our asses out,” Toots replied. “I do have mucho millions . . . scattered about. It’s a shame I can’t just walk up and purchase some bolts of material.”

  “I wonder if Calvin Klein had to go to such lengths to buy denim for those jeans that Brooke Shields posed in all those years ago. Remember that?” Mavis asked.

  “Yes, I do. Wasn’t there something about she didn’t let anything come between her and her Calvin Klein jeans? Wasn’t she supposed to be going without her underwear or some silly thing?” Toots said.

  “Yes, it was something to that effect. I could never go without my undergarments,” Mavis added as an afterthought. “Then again, I’m not Brooke Shields.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, Mavis,” Toots said. “Right now we need to get our asses prepared and get to that warehouse, or you’re going to totally lose what ass you have left.”

  An hour later, they were cruising down Meeting Street Road in North Charleston. Just to avoid any slipups, Toots had programmed her handheld GPS with the address. So far so good.

  Ida had truly dressed for the part. She wore a slinky black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and a pair of spiked black heels that made her almost as tall as Toots. There weren’t many women at sixty-five who could come close to pulling this off. But Ida could; she was a well-preserved sixty-five. They circled the block three times before locating a man walking the perimeter of the large warehouse. They assumed it was Frank. Sophie had brought her portable digital recorder along just in case they needed it.

  “Set that recorder so I can get a close-up view of Frank. I just want to make sure he’s not ugly and has his own teeth,” Ida said excitedly.

  Sophie fiddled with the small recorder, then gave it to Ida. “You promised Mavis you would go through with this. If he’s ugly, then you just have to deal with it. Close your eyes and pretend he’s . . . Jerry!” Sophie cajoled.

  Ida held the small recorder up to her eye and focused on the man in the distance. “Not bad, or at least not that I can tell from this distance.” Ida angled the recorder lower, then refocused. “His ass doesn’t look too bad, either.”

  “Once a slut always a slut,” Sophie said.

  Ida lowered the recorder and placed it on the seat beside her. “If I hadn’t promised Mavis I would do this, I would knock you right upside your head with this stupid recorder. I’m not a slut. I can’t help it if men fall all over me. I think you’re just jealous. You’ve only been with that old drunk Walter. You wouldn’t know a real man if he slapped you in the face,” Ida said.

  As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Ida wished she could recall them. Walter had spent most of their married life doing just that, and he was anything but a man. Ida would take whatever Sophie slung back at her. She truly deserved it this time around, but Sophie didn’t take the bait.

  It was after midnight; the sun had long set. Toots parked the sleek car under a grove of trees across the street from the warehouse. Birdsong, cricket chirps, an
d the occasional croak of a frog harmonized in the background. The slight scent of horse dung permeated the night air. Apparently Charleston’s famous carriage rides had a stable nearby.

  “You two cannot be in close confines for more than a minute without arguing,” Toots commented. “You’re worse than two kids in the backseat on a long road trip.”

  Pouting, Ida said, “She called me a slut.”

  “I know. You should be used to it by now. Sophie has the class of a horse’s ass. At times,” Toots added hastily.

  “Speaking of horses, what is that smell?” Sophie asked, her nose crinkling up in distaste.

  “It’s probably your upper lip,” Ida informed her.

  As was becoming the norm, they all burst out laughing.

  “Maybe those tourist companies should consider a new hybrid bus. That smell of horse manure is taking the ‘Go Green’ thing a bit far,” Toots said.

  They remained in the car for thirty minutes, paying close attention to Frank and his movements. The next time he circled the warehouse and stopped by the gate, Ida would make her move. Because she wore a sexy black dress, they’d decided she needed a plausible, yet sympathetic story to feed Frank. Ida could do this; Toots just knew it.

  They all stared ahead, waiting for Frank. When they saw him round the corner, Toots whispered, “It’s show-time.”

  Chapter 17

  Anticipation and a sense of excitement invaded the vehicle. Quietly, so as not to reveal them, Toots opened the driver’s side door, then instructed Ida to open her door. Mavis and Sophie crawled out of the backseat like two teenagers sneaking out of the window on a Saturday night. Spurts of laughter could be heard by anyone close enough.

  “Okay, there he is!” Toots whispered, pointing toward the man they were assuming was Frank. If Abby ever got wind of this, she would disown her as a mother; Toots was sure of it. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Ida sashayed away from the car, stopping when she reached the edge of the street.