Ellie laughed. “We all have the same phone. Big numbers, easy to use, and that 5* thing in case of trouble. Okay, call him,” she said, excitement ringing in her voice.
Isabelle laughed as she pressed the numbers for Ben’s phone. He shrieked a greeting as all the dogs started barking at the same time because of the zippy ring tone.
“Hey, kiddo, there’s someone here to see you! Hurry up!”
When there was no response, Isabelle opened the door and motioned for the three women to go outside. “This is your chance to see a real live streak of lightning. He knows it’s you. Go!”
The three women ran as fast as their elderly legs would allow. Ben barreled out of the barn at full throttle, the five dogs barking and yelping as they thundered their way to the running women.
“Granny!” Ben screamed.
“Ben!” Eleanor Lymen screamed in return.
Fifty-two pounds of pure boy threw himself into his grandmother’s waiting arms. Rita and Irene circled them as much as the dogs would allow.
“You’re killing me!” Ben gasped. “But it feels good.”
“I think you cracked my ribs,” Eleanor howled.
“Are you going to keep me?”
“You better believe it!” Eleanor said, meeting Isabelle’s eyes. Isabelle just nodded.
And then they were all back in the house. Isabelle busied herself pouring a glass of milk for Ben and setting out a plate of brownies. She handed out treats to the dogs, then withdrew to the family room to call the sisters for an update, leaving Eleanor, her friends, and Ben to their privacy.
Forty minutes later, Ben poked his head in the door, and said, “Izzy, I have to go upstairs and call the Institute. I have to take two oral quizzes. You remember I told you that, right?”
“Sure do. I’ll just visit with your family until you’re done. We’ll be here, Ben, waiting for you.”
Back in the kitchen, the three women stared at Isabelle, their eyes moist. “I’m out of words, Isabelle,” Eleanor said.
“None are necessary. Did you tell him about his father?”
“No, not yet. I have a favor to ask you. Your . . . um . . . people, you said they’re at the Ryan house taking care of things, right?” Isabelle nodded.
“Can you call them and ask them to do something for me?”
“Sure. No problem. What is it you want?”
Eleanor cleared her throat. “Jonathan, Ben’s father, told me that when he was seeing my daughter he bought her a string of pearls. He said Diana loved them so much, she never took them off. Never. When he found out about her death, he researched the robbery, and he said there was a picture of . . . of . . . Diana, and she was wearing the pearls. I myself never saw that picture. At the time, I was in a black void somewhere. He said, and he didn’t go into detail, that while he had a robust trust fund, it was stipulated that he had to also work to have access to it. So he worked his way through college and med school by waiting tables, pumping gas at stations over the weekend. Yet he managed to save enough to buy Diana the pearls. He said he paid ninety-four dollars for them at a pawnshop. He’d like them back because in case he ever has a daughter he would want her to have them. Is that possible?” Tears dribbled down Eleanor’s cheeks as she tried to wipe them away.
“Absolutely, I can do that. Listen up.”
Annie clicked on on the first ring. She listened to Isabelle, her face tightening into one of hot rage. “I’ll take care of that right now.”
“Who was that?” Myra asked.
“Isabelle.” Annie looked at Nikki, whose face was contorted in anger as she continued to grill Natalie Ryan. Annie held up her hand for Nikki to stop the interrogation.
“What?” Nikki bellowed.
“That was Isabelle. She asked us to do something. Can I have the floor for a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Mr. Ryan, what did you do with the pearls Diana was wearing when she was killed in that bank robbery?”
Connor Ryan wore the expression of the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. “Ah . . . the coroner gave me her belongings in a bag. I brought them home and . . . and . . . I put them on a shelf in my closet.”
“Alexis, go get them,” Annie ordered.
“They . . . they . . . aren’t there anymore. Natalie found the bag and threw everything away but the pearls. She had them. They were just cheap pearls. Not real. At least they didn’t look real to me,” he said lamely.
Natalie’s mind raced. At last, a bargaining chip. Maybe if she gave up the pearls, they’d let her go. If she could just remember what she’d done with that shitty string of beads. They were probably in what she called her overflow drawer, with all the makeup, perfume, and other junk she no longer used but was too lazy to clean out.
“I’ll only ask you once. Where are the pearls?” Nikki demanded. “If you don’t give us the right answer, I’ll let Kathryn have another go at you. I bet she could pop those silicone implants in your boobs in less than three minutes. You might bleed out, but then, there is no one in this room who would care. So where are the pearls?”
All it took was one glance at the murderous look on Kathryn’s face, and her clenched fist, to warn Natalie to cooperate. “They might be in my junk drawer in the vanity,” she lisped, as pink drool dribbled down her chin. She swiped at it with the sleeve of her shirt. She knew she was beaten, that her options were all gone.
Alexis was already on her feet and headed for the second floor. She returned fifteen minutes later. “That drawer alone has close to several thousand dollars’ worth of makeup and perfume. But I found the pearls!” She handed them to Annie like they were the queen’s jewels.
Annie, in turn, called Isabelle. “We. Have. The. Pearls.”
“Time to get this show on the road,” Myra said. “We’ve been here too long as it is. The neighbors might be returning soon. I heard a few cars go by a while ago.”
Nikki looked at Alexis. “You got your bag and everything you need?”
“Good to go.”
“Load Mr. Ryan in the van so we can get started here,” Nikki ordered.
“You might as well cooperate, Mr. Ryan. Otherwise, you’ll be sporting some serious bruising and undergoing a lot of pain,” Yoko said as she tightened the Flexi Ties on his wrists and gave him a push forward. Kathryn and Annie propelled him toward the garage. They waited until they heard Myra back Yoko’s van to within an inch of the opening before they popped the garage door open. The back of the van rose slowly, and Connor Ryan was shoved inside before it reached the top, only to come down a second later. The garage door closed with a bang. By the time they were back in the kitchen, Myra was walking through the front door.
“It’s all in the teamwork,” Myra said, laughing.
All eyes were on Alexis as she made a production out of rummaging in her red bag of magic tricks. “What . . . what?” Natalie lisped.
Kathryn wagged her finger under Natalie’s nose. “Shut up!”
“It’s a given she’s going to scream her head off,” Yoko said. “Somebody tape her mouth shut!”
“I’ll be happy to do that,” Annie said as she dug around inside Alexis’s bag for a roll of duct tape. “I didn’t know they made duct tape in color these days. I really like this purple color. Kind of girly, if you know what I mean.” The sisters all laughed as Annie peeled off a long strip and slapped it around Natalie’s face and on top of her real hair.
“That’s going to hurt like a bitch when it has to come off.” Nikki grinned.
“Who said it’s coming off?” Myra chirped.
Natalie fell off the chair in a dead faint. Kathryn and Yoko hauled her back up and taped her to the chair.
Annie filled a pot with cold water from the sink and dumped it all over Natalie. “We want you alert here, so stay awake.”
“I think we should start, dear,” Myra said.
Alexis whirled around, the remaining un-slashed pair of Brunello Cucinelli shoes dangling from her hands. She whirled a
nd twirled them around for all to see.
Nikki leaned over. “We’re going to make you pay for those shoes and the other five pair you had upstairs. We’re going to make you pay for every miserable, stinking, lousy thing you did to that little boy to satisfy your own greed. Do you understand what I just said? Blink twice if you do.” Natalie blinked twice, tears flooding her eyes.
“She’s finally getting it. Okay, Alexis, light it up!” Nikki said.
When Alexis turned around a second time, she had an acetylene torch at full bore. She handed it to Nikki. “Careful, that baby’s hot.”
Natalie slumped in the chair. Annie dumped a second pot of water all over her. She gasped as she shook her head like a dog caught in the middle of a rainstorm.
“You waiting for a bus, Myra? Take off her shoes and roll up her pant legs,” Annie ordered.
“Okay, okay,” Myra said as she yanked off Natalie’s Ferragamo flats. She tossed them across the room. “Nikki, the only way this is going to work is if we prop her feet up on a stool. She still has free mobility. Maggie, tie her ankles together.”
Moments later, everyone stepped back as Nikki reached for the torch. “We’re going to burn your feet right down to the bone. Take a good, long look at those classy shoes and know from this point forward you will be walking on your knees.” With that, she swiped the torch across Natalie’s feet.
“God, that smells,” Kathryn said.
“She blacked out again,” Alexis said.
“Hit her again, that’s barely a first-degree burn,” Annie said. Nikki happily obliged as she recited almost verbatim all the questions she’d asked Natalie earlier. She realized that Natalie couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t care. She kept swiping the torch across her bare feet, which were now blistered, with the flesh turning black. “And this is for not cooking for the boy, and this is for that and that and that.”
“Enough!” Myra said ten minutes later. “Fix her up and get her loaded into the van. Kathryn, call Pearl and tell her we can’t wait for darkness on this mission. Tell her to meet us at the depot and be ready to roll within the hour. Do not take no for an answer. Explain about Natalie’s condition and what she’s going to need. Yoko, give her a shot. Alexis, wrap her feet in that medicated blanket and make sure you have an extra one to give to Pearl. We’re done here, ladies. All we have to do is tidy up and hope the smell goes away sooner rather than later. I seriously doubt anyone will come looking for these two, but you never know.”
Yoko was the first to leave, Kathryn right behind her. “We’ll meet you back at the farm,” Kathryn called over her shoulder. “Someone call Isabelle.”
Nikki had the phone to her ear. “Izz, we’re done here. The Ryans are on the way to the depot, where Pearl will take over. Annie has the pearls. Sorry you missed the fun. We avenged Ben. I hope he never finds out. It’s enough that we know, and his grandmother. I’m hoping for clear skies for him from here on in.” She listened a moment, and said, “It was brutal, Izz, but she deserved it, plus more. I won’t have a bit of trouble sleeping over this. We’ll see you in a bit.”
Nikki turned around. She stared at Alexis, Maggie, Myra, and Annie. “I will never ever understand how a person can harm a child or an animal. Never!” Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at her sisters, who gathered around her, murmuring soft, caring words of compassion, words that only women seemed to know for some reason.
“Time to go home,” Maggie said happily.
“Yes, it is time to go home,” Myra said. “Our work here is done.”
The sisters linked arms and walked out of the Ryan house into the bright October sunshine.
Another mission successfully completed.
Epilogue
Ten days later
Eleanor Lymen handed over the potato peeler to Rita and said, “You need to do this. I’m so nervous I’m going to slice my fingers off if I keep at it.” Rita reached for the potato and the peeler and shooed Eleanor over to the table.
“Sit!” she ordered. “Irene, make her a cup of coffee.”
Irene did as ordered. “Calm down, Ellie, it’s all going to work out just the way it’s supposed to. Jonathan is going to arrive, and he’s going to meet his son, and everyone is going to live happily ever after. Get with the program here, will you,” she said, not unkindly.
“I should have prepared Ben. God in heaven, why didn’t I do that, girls?”
“We talked about this for hours on end, Ellie. The three of us decided this was the best way to do it. Jonathan agreed with us, so will you just relax already?”
Eleanor gulped at the coffee in her cup just as Ben made an appearance in the kitchen. “Boy, it sure does smell good in here. Don’t tell me, I know what you’re making for dinner.” He ticked the menu off on his fingers. “Roast chicken, giblet gravy, and stuffing. Lots and lots of stuffing, lettuce salad with hot bacon dressing, creamed corn, those bright green peas I hate, homemade dinner rolls, cranberry orange sauce. And for dessert, red velvet cake with real whipped cream. Did I get it right?” he asked anxiously.
“You did,” Eleanor said, using both hands to hold her coffee cup. “Your job is to set the table. The dishes are on the counter. Careful with them, Ben. We’re eating dinner in the dining room this evening.”
“Wow! Two welcome-home dinners. The spaghetti and meatball one was enough that first night, but two! I’m not complaining, but . . . there’s an extra plate here,” he said, looking quizzically at his grandmother.
“Yes. We’re having a guest today.” Eleanor wanted to say more, but one look from Irene stifled the words in her throat.
“But the food is all your favorites. I’m sure our guest will like it as much as you do.”
Ben picked up the plates and headed for the dining room, calling over his shoulder, “Who is it? Do I know them?”
“Uh, no,” Eleanor said. “He’s what you might call a new friend. We really like him.”
“Well, if you all like him, then I guess I will, too,” Ben said, coming back for the salad plates and silverware. “You said ‘him.’ It’s a man, then?” Eleanor nodded as she stared into her empty coffee cup, which Irene hastened to refill.
“When is he getting here?” Ben asked.
Eleanor looked down at her watch. She wanted to say “any minute,” but instead she said, “Soon.”
Five minutes later, Ben was back in the kitchen. “Table’s all set. Do you need me to do anything else? If not, I’m going back up to my room. My finals are on Monday, and I want to make sure I have everything down pat. Dr. Andrews said if I pass them all, I don’t have to go back till graduation day. Oh, did I tell you, Dr. Andrews told me this morning I could pick my graduation date if I pass everything with an A. A piece of cake,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
The doorbell took that moment to ring. Eleanor almost jumped out of her skin. Rita and Irene stopped what they were doing. Eleanor’s voice sounded so strangled that she barely recognized it as coming from her own mouth. “Do you want to get that, Ben? Be polite now, and bring our guest back to the kitchen.”
“Sure,” Ben said, running to the front door. He opened it and looked up at the giant standing in front of him. “Hi! I’m Ben. Grandma said to bring you back to the kitchen.”
The giant spoke as he held out his hand. “And I’m good at following orders. I’m Jonathan Philbran.”
“Who are you? Grandma said you were a new friend.”
The giant dropped to his haunches so he was at eye level with Ben. “It sure does smell good in here. But to answer your question, I’m just a guy with three yellow buses, a job, and some money in the bank. Your turn.” He grinned, showing the same gap between his front teeth that Ben had. “Whoa, whoa, what’s that look of sudden panic I’m seeing on your face?” Jonathan asked, alarm written all over his face.
Ben backed up a step, then another, as Jonathan rose to his feet.
“Your . . . your hair looks like mine. Actually, you look like . . . you look like m
e!” He turned and ran screaming, “Granny, Granny!”
Eleanor Lymen closed her eyes as Ben flung himself at her. Irene and Rita immediately closed ranks as Jonathan Philbran stood outlined in the kitchen doorway. He looked at his son, then at the three women. He threw his hands in the air. “Obviously, we should have given more thought to my introduction.”
“I think I know who you are,” Ben said. “You’re my father. You look like me. That’s why Granny left, to find you. Am I right?” he blurted, in full panic mode.
“Yes, that’s right, Ben. Remember in my letter to you I said I had to do something because I had made a serious mistake, and I needed to make it right?”
“I remember,” Ben whispered, never taking his eyes off the man who Ben had just figured out was his father.
“I sent Jonathan away. I thought he wasn’t good enough for your mother. I had no right to do that, but I still did it. That’s what I had to make right. Ben, look at me and listen very carefully to what I am saying. Jonathan never knew about you. When he left, he had no idea that your mother was pregnant. And I never knew who he was. Back then, he was using a different name. None of what happened is his fault. I am totally to blame for your not having a father and for what happened to you after your mother died. Please tell me you understand what I just said.”
Ben’s eight-year-old brain tried to fathom what he’d just been told. He had a real father, and his father’s name was Jonathan Philbran. He had three yellow buses, was just a guy with a job, and had some money in the bank. He left willingly when his granny said he wasn’t good enough for his mother. What kind of person would do that? In a flash, he started to remember all the parts and bits of conversations he’d heard between his granny, Irene, and Rita that had made no sense at the time. His mother was . . . was mentally challenged somehow. He was a child genius, and he had no idea how smart his real father was. Maybe somewhere in between. What did they want him to say? More to the point, what did he want to say? Clearly, they were all waiting for some reaction from him. But as he grappled with what to say, his father spoke quickly.
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