Classified

by Fern Michaels

  The crew consisted of two cameramen, the executive producer, and two assistants. Five extra people to contend with at this early hour, Toots thought, as the crew came downstairs.

  “Morning,” said Eli, the head cameraman.

  “Good morning, young man,” Mavis said, as always her voice full of cheer, no matter what time of day.

  Toots had told them they could stay at her house, and now she wished she had booked them into a hotel. She hated being polite this early in the day, so she simply nodded at Eli, refilled her cup, and went outside to smoke.

  A few minutes later, Sophie joined her. “They’re all up now. Damn, Toots, I didn’t realize they’d be underfoot twenty-four/seven. This is too damned early.” Sophie lit up, then said in a whisper, “I don’t have a good feeling about this”—she tossed her free hand in front of her—“life-invading stuff. It kept me up all night.”

  “What do you mean?” Toots asked, her voice laced with tension. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I just have a bad feeling. I can’t put my finger on any one specific thing, but when my gut talks, I always listen. You know that feeling. You have it, too.”

  Toots nodded and crushed out her cigarette. “So this isn’t one of your psychic things?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not right, whatever it is. I don’t know if I should tell Karen to pack up and go home, or just go with it.” Karen, the executive producer, was all business.

  “She’s a ballbuster for sure. I almost feel sorry for her two assistants,” Toots said. “But this is your gig, so you do what you feel is best, but it would not hurt my feelings one little bit if you told the crew to pack up and head back to New York. What does Goebel think?”

  Sophie lit a second cigarette off the first one. She inhaled, then blew the smoke out of the side of her mouth. “He says he’ll do whatever I think is best. Damn, they just got here. I would really hate to toss them out on their asses the first day of shooting. Do you think the assistants are lesbians? I’ve been watching them, and they can’t keep their eyes off one another.”

  “It’s none of our business if they are,” Toots said. “But I don’t think so. I think the blonde is new to the job and just follows the other around like a lost puppy. They haven’t been here long enough for me to get a take on them. As I said, this is your gig. You have my house for one week, and not a minute longer, as I agreed. After that, it’s going to be my gig and your ass.”

  Sophie was quiet, which was highly unusual, since her mouth usually ran nonstop. “Yeah, I know. Goebel put a bid in on that big old house down the road. You know the one that’s older than dirt and painted purple?”

  Toots smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” No way was she going to tell Sophie or Goebel that she, Toots herself, was the owner of said house. She’d purchased it years before as another one of her decorating projects. The move to LA and taking over at The Informer had put that project on the back burner. Until now. She’d been home for a year. When Goebel mentioned something about the house a few weeks ago, she’d given him her real-estate agent’s phone number and told him to call, and what to bid. If he played his cards right, the house would be his for a song.

  “If he buys it, we’re going to shack up. What do you think of that?” Sophie asked, glad to change the subject.

  “You’re asking me? If I was as smart as I thought I was, I would’ve shacked up with seven of my eight husbands. I sure as hell wouldn’t be in the predicament I’m in now.”

  “You’re not in a ‘predicament’ at all. You just think you are. I take it you haven’t revealed the magic number to Phil?”

  “I haven’t had an opportunity. With all this hoopla, we haven’t had a moment alone. I’m going to tell him, though. As soon as the production crew leaves, I’m kicking all of your asses out for the night. Then, when we’re alone, I’ll tell him. He’s really retiring, Soph. At first, I thought he was just telling me that, but he isn’t. He’s cutting out new patients.”

  “Really? ‘Cutting’?” Sophie teased.

  “Oh, kiss my ass, you know what I mean. He’s cutting back on new patients and sending his old patients to his partners. He is the oldest doctor in their practice. He really wants to write that medical thriller he’s talked about. Told me it was time to start a new chapter in his life.”

  Sophie nodded in agreement. “You should be with him, Toots. Remember, none of us are getting any younger. We need to grab whatever happiness we can. Hell, we’ll all be seventy this year!”

  “Don’t remind me. But, hey, we don’t look that old—thanks to Ida’s miracle cream.”

  “True, but you really need to tell Phil why you’re not going with him,” Sophie said, then stood up and turned around.

  “Yes, she should tell me why she’s not going,” Phil said. He’d just arrived for the early-morning taping, thinking it would be a fun day spent with people he truly loved and cared for. Mostly Toots.

  Toots whipped around so fast, she was sure she’d suffered whiplash. “What are you doing here?” she snapped before she could filter the words. She stood up, and Phil backed into the kitchen, allowing Toots and Sophie to step inside without crowding each other.

  “I called earlier, but there wasn’t any answer,” Phil said, his expression stilled and serious.

  Toots wondered how long he’d been standing at the door, but she wasn’t about to ask. She prayed he hadn’t heard her and Sophie’s entire conversation. If so, then she would have no other choice but to tell him her sordid past.

  Chapter 12

  Apparently, not long enough, Toots thought, when he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. She let out a breath, unaware she’d been holding it. Now wasn’t the time. With all the comings and goings over the next week, she would do whatever she had to, just to make sure that she wasn’t alone with Phil. At least long enough for her to give him a detailed account of her marital history. When the producers packed up, then she would invite Phil over for a nice intimate dinner. He knew she didn’t cook, so they’d have to eat Froot Loops again. It wouldn’t matter what they ate, she thought as she offered up a hesitant smile.

  Grinning, Phil said to Toots, “You stink.”

  She laughed, then pointed to his head. “Your hair is so stiff it looks like you washed it in formaldehyde. I better ask Mavis or Ida if they’re missing any.”

  “Hey, if I wanted the stuff, I could get it. Remember, I work in a hospital.”

  “True, but don’t they keep inventory on that stuff?” She didn’t really care, but it was conversation, and anything impersonal worked now.

  “Yes, they do. They know where every last aspirin and Band-Aid goes.”

  Karen chose that moment to make her announcement. “We really want to get started, if all of you are ready. As I explained, I want this to be as close to Sophie’s normal day as possible. So . . . if everyone is ready?” She let the question hang in the air.

  Sophie swallowed the last of her coffee. “I am not. I’m waiting for . . . Ida. She has to do my face. I don’t walk out the door without my face on. So as soon as she’s downstairs, we can get started. I can’t let the public see me like this.”

  Mavis choked on her coffee; Bernice rolled her eyes; Goebel chuckled. Toots knew that Sophie was stalling, but she wasn’t exactly sure why. Yes, Sophie had said she had a weird feeling, but why not go on with the production? It would take her mind away from the negative vibes.

  Toots poured herself another cup of coffee, adding three huge spoonfuls of sugar and lots of cream. “Don’t say a word,” she said before Phil admonished her for another bad habit.

  He held his hands out in front of him. “I’m not saying a word.”

  “Phil, I need to speak to Sophie. Alone. Do you mind?”

  Sophie cast her the evil-eye look, and Phil said, “Go ahead. I’m going to have a bowl of Froot Loops.”

  “Thanks.”

  Without another word, Toots grabbed Soph
ie’s arm and practically dragged her upstairs to her bedroom, where the cameras were off-limits. “Tell me why you’re stalling. You don’t wear makeup every day any more than Phil does. What gives?”

  Sophie sat down on the bed next to Toots. She’d dressed in forest green slacks and a matching silk blouse for the shoot. Her long hair was loose, settling on her shoulders. Gold hoops hung from her ears. A diamond necklace given to her for Christmas by Goebel glistened as the early-morning sun peeked through the bedroom windows.

  “You never dress like this, Soph. I thought this was supposed to be a reality show.”

  Sophie took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, there is no way in hell I’m going on national television looking like a two-dollar tramp. I can’t seem to shake this bad energy. I’ve had it ever since the crew arrived.”

  “Look, Sophie, even though your face is fairly well known from Ida’s cosmetic line, it’s normal to feel a bit nervous when you’re about to make your television debut. Didn’t they say that if this was successful, they wanted you and Goebel to sign on for a season of specials? I’d be feeling a bit off, too, if it were me,” Toots said, hoping to reassure her suddenly skittish friend.

  “Oh, shit, you know that doesn’t bother me. I’m not the least bit camera shy. It’s something more. I can’t put my finger on it, and I feel as though I should be able to.”

  Though it had been a few weeks since they’d held a séance, Toots voiced her thoughts. “Maybe you need to read their cards. Have a séance while they’re here. You might be able to tune in to what’s bothering you. Maybe one of them has recently lost a family member, or a friend.”

  Sophie got off the bed and began pacing back and forth. “No, Toots. Trust me, I know those things. This is completely different. It’s just—”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because Goebel burst into the room. “It’s that girl—something has happened to her!”

  With Goebel in the lead, Sophie and Toots rushed downstairs to a scene none of them could have predicted in a million years.

  Phil was checking Karen’s vitals and speaking into the phone that Bernice held to his ear.

  “Blood pressure is dropping,” he told the person on the other line.

  Toots knew that Phil carried the proverbial little black bag wherever he went, and today she was grateful.

  “What happened?” Toots asked the blond assistant, who by now was crying. The other assistant, whose name she had never heard mentioned, answered, instead. “Karen said her head was hurting. Then she just kinda slid to the floor, and he called 911. I hope she’s okay. I really, really need this job. My brother got me this job as a favor. I don’t know what will happen to me now,” the young woman said.

  Toots wanted to smack her face, but refrained. Instead, she said, “How the hell can you be thinking of yourself at a time like this? This woman could be dying, for all we know!”

  Goebel took charge. “Everyone, calm down. Girls, why don’t you and the camera crew wait in the kitchen. There’s coffee and pastries on the counter.”

  The four TV people did as advised. Goebel stooped beside Phil. “What’s your professional opinion?”

  Phil finished his conversation, and Bernice took the phone. Her face was as white as a ghost, and her hands trembled. “Dear Lord, what’s next?” she asked of no one in particular, then headed for the kitchen, her hand placed over her heart like Redd Foxx’s character used to do in his old sitcom from the seventies, Sanford and Son.

  “I’m not sure,” Phil said as he poked and prodded Karen, who lay unconscious on the floor.

  Sophie stared at Karen; then she glanced at Toots. “This is what I’ve been talking about! I knew something was going to happen to her before it happened! If she dies—”

  “She isn’t going to die,” Phil said in his doctor voice. “The paramedics are here.”

  They all heard the sirens in the background; and as luck would have it, the gates had remained open since Phil’s earlier arrival.

  In less than two minutes, the paramedics had Karen on a stretcher. One placed an oxygen mask on her, and another expertly placed an IV line in her vein within seconds. They checked her vitals, then adjusted the stretcher so that it rose about three feet from the ground. All was done very quickly, in no more than two minutes, before they wheeled her to the ambulance.

  Toots had lingered in the background, not daring to interfere, but she followed Phil, Goebel, and Sophie as they trailed the paramedics. “Phil, do you have any clue what happened?”

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him. “I’m guessing she might’ve had a stroke.”

  “ ‘A stroke’?” Sophie yelled, not caring one little bit who heard her. “That girl is too young to have a stroke! It’s something else.... I just know it is,” she added.

  Toots wished Sophie could pinpoint exactly what had happened to Karen, since it would make things a lot easier, but she kept that to herself. Sophie was her own worst enemy right now. From past experiences, Toots knew she would never forgive herself for not preventing this.

  The ambulance doors closed, and the siren started wailing a second time; then the paramedics raced down the drive to the main road.

  They all clustered around the porch, none of them sure about anything at the moment. Toots, always first to initiate a plan in times of crisis, spoke up. “Let’s go inside. We need to see to the film crew, let them know what’s going on. None of them look a day over twenty, if you ask me.”

  All of them followed Toots, who came alive in these emergency situations.

  In the kitchen, Bernice was practically beating Egg Beaters to death in a bowl, while Mavis had the toaster going at full throttle. Ida was sitting at the table, chatting with the crew. As usual, she looked like she’d stepped right out of a bandbox.

  Toots poured herself another cup of coffee, laced it with sugar and cream, then sat at the head of the table. “As you all know, they’ve taken Karen to the hospital. We aren’t sure what’s happening, but one of you should call the studio and let them know what’s going on. Also, do any of you know how to contact her family? I’m sure they would want to know what’s happened.”

  Eli was the first to speak. “Karen lives alone in the city, and I’m not sure about her family. She’s all business, never really talked to me about anything outside of work.”

  The assistant who was new to the job said, “I don’t even know her last name.”

  “Wait a minute, all of you, before you continue,” Toots said, her voice several octaves higher than normal. They all focused their attention on her. “Let’s have a quick round-robin and tell me your names.”

  “Eli,” he said, “And this is Jack, my assistant.” He directed his gaze to the junior cameraman.

  “I’m Haley” came from the blonde.

  “My name is Serena Stillman,” said the uncaring new girl.

  Toots rubbed her hands together. “Okay, Eli, Jack, Haley, and Serena, it’s obvious we’re not going to film any more of this reality special until we get word on Karen’s condition. So having said that, I’m going to pay for you all to stay at the Hampton Inn until you hear from your superiors. Dr. Becker will keep us informed on Karen’s progress. Now,” Toots asked, “do you all have any questions? Anything I should know?”

  Serena spoke first, but she directed her question to Eli. “Are we being paid to sit here while Karen’s lying around in the hospital?” The girl was all about herself. Again, Toots wanted to smack her in the face but didn’t.

  “Yes, I think so, kid. I wouldn’t worry about it just yet. We need to find out what’s happening with Karen. She is our immediate supervisor for this gig.”

  Jack and Haley chose to remain quiet.

  Maybe they were smarter than Toots thought.

  “Phil, can you make a phone call later to check on Karen?” Toots asked.

  “Yes, I want to see her as soon as it’s allowed,” Sophie finally spoke. “I need to . . . Just let me know wh
en I can see her.”

  Goebel placed a comforting arm around Sophie and ran his free hand up and down the length of her spine. She laid her head against his chest, her eyes closed. “I should’ve seen this.”

  The back door slammed shut, startling them all. Abby and Chris, with worried looks on their faces, stood in the center of the kitchen. “Mom! What is going on? I just saw an ambulance leave, and you’re not answering your cell or the house phone, so we came over. Is everything okay?”

  “The executive producer may have suffered a stroke. We’re not sure yet,” Toots said, her voice lowered.

  “That’s terrible! Phil?” Abby asked, turning to him for an answer.

  Phil leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, and one jeans-clad leg crossed over his ankle. “I can’t be one hundred percent sure. Her vitals were decent. Not good, but I didn’t see them as life-threatening. I’ll give them time to admit her, and then I’ll call and find out if they know anything more.”

  Abby nodded. “This is awful. I know how excited you and Goebel are. What’s going to happen with the reality special?”

  Eli spoke up. “We don’t know yet.”

  “I’m Abby Clay. This is my husband, Chris.” Her eyes lit up every time she said those five words. Eli quickly introduced Chris and Abby to the crew.

  After the introductions were made, Bernice served them all what she called a proper breakfast. Robert showed up just as she’d served the last of the fake eggs. Wade came trudging in behind his brother, a look of concern on his face.

  Mavis caught this immediately. “I’m so glad you’re back, Wade.” She looked at Robert. “Is everything okay?”

  “Can we take a walk?” Wade whispered in her ear.

  “Of course.”

  Wade and Mavis wandered out the back door, down the path that led to Jamie’s cottage. “I’m worried about Robert. He isn’t acting normal. Have you or Bernice noticed anything unusual about him since I’ve been gone?”