“Let me make sure I understand all of this. You want Elaine Hollister followed twenty-four/seven. You also want your client, Gus Hollister, followed twenty-four/seven. Because . . . you want to know if he lies to you, because all clients lie to their lawyers. You want to know if Gus meets up with his wife for whatever reason.”
“Precisely,” Jill said, reaching for another pastry.
“In addition, you want to know everything there is to know about your client’s family, meaning, of course, the Blossom sisters, Rose, Violet, and Iris. You want all the paperwork on the farm, their holdings if there are any, the whole ball of wax. I’m assuming you want to know about any inheritance down the line that the soon-to-be-ex might think she’s entitled to.”
“Precisely,” Jill said.
“You faxed me Phil Ross’s report. I read it; I was not impressed.” Lynus sniffed.
“Neither was I. I want all her financials; my client’s as well. I want you to pretend that you never saw Phil Ross’s report and do your own. You’ll bill the firm the way you always do. Standard expense account. Check with me for anything outgoing over a thousand bucks. I want video as well as stills. Check in with me every forty-eight hours. Did I miss anything?”
“I don’t think so. If you did, I’ll let you know as we go forward. Tell me something, just between you and me. You don’t like your client, do you?”
“Does it show that much?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lynus drawled. “Why?”
“Because he chose a gold digger over his family, a family that raised him, gave him the best they could. And, when push came to shove, he chose the gold digger over them. They’re old ladies and he broke their hearts after all they did for him.”
“People do silly things when they’re in love, Jill. Even you know that,” Lynus said softly.
“Silly, yes. Silly, I can understand. I don’t understand blatant stupidity. What he did to those old ladies and the way he treated them is unforgivable in my eyes.”
“That’s because you’ve never been in love, Jill. I’m not saying I’m on Hollister’s side. I’m just saying Hollister might turn out to be an okay kind of guy who stepped off the rails and didn’t know how to get back on, and this is the outcome. You really shouldn’t judge people until you know all the facts. You know what else? If you’d fix yourself up, you’d be a knockout.”
Jill was on her feet in a second, her face dark pink, her eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare go there, Lynus Litton, or I’m out of here, along with my business.”
Lynus smiled. “Testy, aren’t we? Must mean I hit a nerve. Okay, peace, my friend. I mean it, though. I know this guy who could turn you into a bombshell in four hours.”
“Four hours!” Jill screeched at the top of her lungs. “Did you say four hours? I need four whole hours to bring me to the bombshell level or whatever you call it?!”
Lynus grinned. “Okay, maybe I was a bit hasty. Three and a half. Not a second less.”
Jill burst out laughing. “Well, that’s not going to happen, but if it does, I’m going to hold you to the three and a half hours. Give up on the fixer-upper business and do what you do best, spying.”
Jill looked up at Lynus, who towered over her. She thought he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, with his wavy dark hair and soft brown eyes. He had a killer smile that she knew had bought beachfront property for some orthodontist. Lynus was also the kindest, the gentlest, the most caring person she’d ever met in her life. She also knew he was one of those rare people who would always be in her life because he knew, as she did, how important friendships were.
“Okay, big guy, I’m outta here. Keep me posted and give Lewis a hug for me. Tell him those pastries were awesome.”
“Those boots have to go, Jill! Lose the backpack, too. Tell Barney you need a raise, and I’ll take you shopping for shoes and handbags. I can get them for you wholesale.”
Jill laughed all the way to her car. She called over her shoulder, “You know that is never going to happen, Lynus, so give it up already.”
Lynus laughed along with her. “Someday you are going to beg me for those three and a half hours. Mark my words.”
He locked the door, then made his way back to the office, stopping only long enough to salute the blowup doll at the reception desk.
Gus Hollister clicked the remote on the visor and waited for the garage door to open. He sailed in, parked, cut the engine, and hopped out. Wilson was next, but he waited, like the gentleman he must have been in his former life, for his master to first lift out Winnie, who was protesting at being groped.
Gus walked the dogs around to the door that led to the kitchen and waited till both dogs were inside before he carried in Wilson’s pink basket and Winnie’s treasures. He set the baskets down in the kitchen, then whistled for the dogs, who ignored him completely because they were too busy sniffing out their new digs.
Gus eyed the pile of dog things and decided Maggie might not appreciate having all their treasures in her kitchen, so he lugged their beds and the baskets into the family room and placed everything by the hearth. Maybe tonight he’d make a fire. The last thing he’d heard on the car radio before he turned off the engine was the weatherman announcing the evening temperature, a chilly forty-four degrees once the sun went down. Wilson loved a good blazing fire. Gus kind of liked it himself. He wasn’t sure about fat little Winnie. She might have to waddle off to the side if the heat was too much for her.
Gus made his way back out to the kitchen, where he saw that the coffeepot was full, and there was a plate of sandwiches along with a bowl of cut-up fruit in the refrigerator just waiting for him. He helped himself.
He tidied up the kitchen before he headed to Barney’s home office, where he sent off text messages, an e-mail, and a fax to Barney, apprising him of what he had learned at Blossom Farm and asking for advice. He was certain Barney would respond to either the text or the e-mail, but he wasn’t sure about the fax. The main question, however, was, “Were you aware of any of this?” Right now, though, he needed to think, to come up with a game plan to help his granny and aunts.
Gus trudged back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee, which he carried into the family room. He was not surprised to see both dogs sacked out in their beds. Wilson offered up a feeble wag of his tail and went back to sleep. Winnie was already snoring, her paws wrapped around a ragged doll that might have been a Raggedy Andy at some point in time. He smiled.
He settled down in Barney’s favorite recliner to wait for his friend to get in touch. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
GUS BOLTED OFF THE RECLINER WHEN HE HEARD THE THREENOTE cell-phone ring. He shook his head to clear away the muzziness from his interrupted sleep. He answered and mumbled a sleepy greeting.
“Well, hi there, sleepyhead,” Barney said. “What the hell are you doing sleeping at this time of day? Now, me, I should be pounding out some z’s considering the time difference, just so you know.”
“I’m stressed, okay? Cut the bullshit, Barney, I’m not in the mood. All I want to know is did you know what my family was doing?”
“No! You spell that, n-o! They came to me and asked my advice about finding someone to construct a Web site for them and I recommended someone. When I asked if they needed any other business services, like a good CPA, they said that they already had an accounting firm. I tried to talk them into switching their business to your firm, but they were adamantly opposed. Said you didn’t need to know their business. I had to respect that, and there was no way in hell I was going to go up against the three of them. And, obviously, I could not say anything to you about whatever was going on.
“That is the sum total of my involvement in their activities. I have to say I didn’t think anything in this life could surprise me, but you did one hell of a job. Did they really make all that money doing . . . ah . . . what they’ve been doing?”
“Oh, yeah, and they have the capacity to make twice
that much if I can manage to recruit more help for them. I didn’t tell you this, but some dude named Oscar, who works with them, wanted to take me out to the barn and kill me. To keep me silent. Did you hear what I just said, Barney? They were actually considering it.”
Barney laughed. “Well, they didn’t, that’s the important thing. What are you going to do? Do you have a game plan?”
“Not exactly, but I will do what they want me to do if that’s the only way they’re going to let me back in their lives. I have a list of . . . potential employees. I just have to go visit them and give them my spiel. That means I have to snatch them away from their current digs and get them to Blossom Farm.”
“I’m thinking that might be kidnapping, Gus.” Barney laughed again.
Gus fumed. “You have a better idea? And it’s not kidnapping if they come willingly. Oscar, the dude who wanted to kill me, said they have minds of their own and can do whatever they want to do. Wait. Maybe that was Fred. They all look alike to me. And I was worried about my well-being. So that’s your advice. You know what, Barney, that wasn’t even advice. You just made a comment.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t want me to invest their money. Goldman Sachs, my ass! That really hurt!” Barney said, all trace of his earlier laughter gone. He sounded wounded to his very core.
“Ha-ha! Guess they didn’t trust you, either. Now you know how I feel. Felt.”
“Well, if that’s all your news, I’m going to shut down and go to bed. I have a full day ahead of me.”
“There is one other thing. Elaine had me served today. She’s charging me with everything under the sun.”
“They always do. Just turn it all over to Jill and let her deal with it. You have more pressing things to deal with right now.”
“She hates me. Don’t you know any other lawyers? Like a man, for instance.”
“I do, but they won’t work for your situation. Trust me, she will give you superior representation. She doesn’t have to like you, and you don’t have to like her. The end result is all that counts. And she knows everybody and uses all her contacts. Suck it up, buddy. Keep me posted on how you’re doing. I can’t believe they didn’t want me to invest their money. I seriously doubt I’ll ever be able to sleep again knowing that.”
“Guess they didn’t want you knowing their business, either,” Gus jabbed. Instead of a reply or remark, Gus realized he had nothing but dead air on the line. He ended the connection and flopped back into the recliner. Neither dog so much as cracked an eyelid.
Gus sniffed the air as he looked at his watch. He’d slept away the better part of the afternoon. He was smelling the tantalizing aroma of garlic and . . . spaghetti sauce. Maggie was cooking dinner. He could hardly wait to chow down.
Four o’clock! If he hustled, he could make a trip to the Sea Crest facility, where he might be able to recruit someone named Elroy Hitchens. Sea Crest was, at the most, seven or eight miles as the crow flies, from where he was standing. But first he had to fax the papers the process server had handed him to the fireplug.
Gus trudged to Barney’s office, ripping papers away from the staple, not caring if the paper ripped at the corner. He caught snatches of the legalese and still couldn’t believe what he was reading. The words brutality and physical violence locked on his eyeballs. No way was he going to read this piece of crap again.
Gus scribbled a note on the cover sheet before he shoved the papers into the fax machine and punched in the numbers that would send them flying to Jill Jackson. He dusted his hands dramatically and left the room. His work here was done.
The Sea Crest Adult Living facility was nestled behind a colorful hedge of glossy greenery. Gus parked Barney’s Jeep Commander and got out to walk up a flagstone path that would take him to the reception area. A pleasant-looking woman greeted him cheerfully when he said he wanted to visit with Elroy Hitchens.
“Elroy is on the deck. He likes to sit out there and read before dinner. Go down the hall, and the second set of doors on the right will lead you to the deck.”
Gus thanked her, followed the instructions, and found Elroy Hitchens without any problem because he was the only one on the deck. He was reading a copy of Moby Dick. Gus introduced himself and sat down. “Fred sent me.”
Elroy Hitchens peered at Gus over the top of his glasses. “Why?” He marked the page he was reading by turning down its corner.
Gus told him.
“How do I know you aren’t some kind of slick con artist who preys on old people in assisted-living facilities? All that you just said, it sounds too good to be true. When something sounds too good to be true, most likely it isn’t true. You following me here, young fella? How’d that all happen?”
Gus told him everything, even his part in what had been going on. He didn’t hold anything back.
“You should never turn your back on your family, young fella. In the end, that’s all that’s left to us. I should know. So now you think you can step up to the plate and make all that sadness and sorrow go away. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I guess I am.” Gus had the good grace to look ashamed.
“Well, women are more forgiving than men, so I can see that maybe happening in your case. Before I give you my answer, I need to call Fred. Why don’t you go into the dayroom and fetch us some coffee while I make my call.”
“Okay. How do you like your coffee?”
“Black, how else?”
That wasn’t so hard, Gus thought as he made his way to a huge coffee urn sitting on a table in the corner of the dayroom. It was a cozy room, with wraparound windows on two sides. A giant seventy-six-inch television was mounted on the wall. The chairs and sofas were colorful and looked comfortable. The carpet was a neutral color and flat, for easy wheelchair mobility, he assumed. He looked around. Two men were playing checkers. Two ladies were watching Oprah reruns, and a fat, lazy-looking cat was sitting on the lap of a woman who sat in a wheelchair. She was stroking the cat, her eyes blank. Gus looked away.
Back on the deck, Gus handed over the coffee. He waited.
“Okay, young fella, Fred backed up everything you said and added a bit more. I made a call to another old friend, who is over in Sunrise, who said he knew a few others. It’s in the pipeline as we speak. By the time I finish this coffee, I think you’ll have enough commitments to make everyone happy. Now, how are you going to get us all out to Blossom Farm? You’re going to need a bus, young fella. And we’ll be ready to go by ten tomorrow morning, I guarantee it. Give me your phone number, and I’ll be calling you sometime this evening. We have things we need to get in order. There is one hitch. We all want a contract; otherwise, we ain’t buying no pig in a poke.”
Contracts. He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t see a problem with that. I’ll bring them with me tomorrow if it’s a go. What about your families, your bills here?”
“I’m no problem. I don’t have any family. I signed myself in here so I can sign myself out. I can do my banking online here. I’ll take care of that this evening. As for the others, when it comes to family, while they might be lurking out there, they won’t even notice our friends have moved. That’s a pretty blanket statement, but ninety-nine percent accurate. All the others have to do is notify their Social Security office and the state that they are no longer responsible for payment to their facility. I can almost guarantee there won’t be a problem, but if there is, you can deal with it, young fella. Does that work for you?”
“It does,” Gus said happily. He could hardly wait to get home to call his grandmother to report in on his progress. He’d come through for her, and he really hadn’t had to sweat it out. A piece of cake.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Hitchens. I guess we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow. If anything changes, tell me when you call tonight. I’ll see about renting a . . . bus or some kind of vehicle to get you all to Blossom Farm. If I can’t get a bus, I’ll just make several trips. Before I leave, is there anything else you need to know
? Any questions?” Gus stood up and offered his hand for a handshake.
“Call me Elroy, everyone else does. There is one thing. What are you going to do about the gold digger? I’m just being nosy here, so that means you don’t have to answer me.”
Gus sat back down. “I don’t know. I have a lawyer. Nothing my wife said in the complaint was true. This is all about money. I don’t think she ever loved me. That’s pretty hard for me to swallow and accept. I feel like a fool. I must have been blind, is all I can say in my own defense.”
“What do you feel about her now?”
“What? You planning on writing a book, Mr. Hitchens?”
“I told you I was just being nosy. See! You still have feelings, and you need to let them go. You need to deal with what’s going on in your life, and you can’t let her drag you down. Put it behind you and move on. Really move on. In the end, actions speak louder than words, and your family will be watching to see how you handle it. Guess you know that, don’t cha, young fella?”
“Yes, I do know that, Mr. Hitchens.” Gus was on his feet again, his hand extended for a second time. Elroy offered up a bone-crushing shake. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice evening, Mr. Hitchens.”
“I plan to, young fella. See ya.”
Gus was back in Barney’s house by six o’clock. Just in time, according to Maggie, to sit down and enjoy his dinner. “Do you want me to stay and clean up or to come back later?” she asked.
“I can do the cleanup. It smells wonderful. Did you make some extra meatballs without the sauce for the dogs?”
“I did, and they’re in the covered bowl on the counter. The garlic bread is in the warming oven. Just cover the leftovers, and I can either freeze them or you can have them for lunch tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Maggie. Have a nice night. Oh, were there any calls?”
“Just one. Well, actually four, but it was the same person. Miss Jackson. She sounded . . . perturbed.”
The Blossom Sisters Page 9