“I certainly hope so. I know you didn’t miss those . . . those strange things that child said. The spirits come to the innocent, we both know that. I think it’s safe to say Larry comforts that child when she needs it most.”
“Come along, dear, let’s contact Abner and have him make that court order go away. Then we should put the finishing touches on whatever it is we’re going to do to make what just happened permanent.” Myra was up off the steps and heading straight for the dining room, where they would continue to plot and scheme to get Olivia back into Julie Wyatt’s household after they called Abner.
Back at Darlene’s house, Darlene started to bang pots and pans as she emptied out the dishwasher on Adam’s orders. “And you have the nerve to call me stupid! You played right into their hands. You just turned that kid over to them like nothing ever happened. You might just as well give her to them now and be done with it. You’re such a waste. I don’t know why I ever got mixed up with you to begin with. Now I have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from.” Adam’s arm shot out.
Darlene took the blow full on her cheek, splitting the skin. She howled her outrage as she reached for a knife in the butcher block. Adam’s foot shot out, and she crumpled to the floor, the knife sailing across the tiles.
“Damn you, Adam, get the hell out of my house! There’s the door. Leave. No one is forcing you to stay. Olivia has to go to school. She needs things. Things I don’t have the money to pay for right now. I had no other choice. Just because your kids are dropouts doesn’t mean Olivia is going that route. Hit me one more time, you bastard, and I’ll kill you! I mean it!”
Adam blustered, but they both knew he was in over his head. “Get your ass up and clean this kitchen. I’m going to make another run to the pawnshop. When you’re done cleaning up the kitchen, go outside and clean up the yard. It looks like a war zone.”
Darlene’s eyes spewed hatred as she inched her way to the stove, where she grabbed the oven door and pulled herself to her feet. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of Adam Fortune.
“Tell me you heard what I just said, Darlene.”
“I heard you, okay? The whole damned neighborhood heard you.”
“I don’t care about the whole damned neighborhood hearing me. You are the one with selective hearing. If you fuck with me one more time, Darlene, you will live to regret it.”
Not knowing when to leave well enough alone, Adam added, “You do know those bitches took that kid straight to your mother-in-law’s house, don’t you? Now there will be no living with the little snot. You know that, too, right?”
Adam balled his hand into a tight fist. Darlene ran to the bathroom and locked the door. She stayed inside until she heard the garage door going up, then down, then Adam’s motorcycle roaring out of the driveway. She’d lost whatever control over him she’d had, and she knew it. She opened the door and crept out. One way or another, I’ll make that son of a bitch pay for the way he treats me. And I’ll make that snot-nosed kid pay, too, she promised herself.
Darlene made short work out of tidying up the kitchen. She took a package of chopped meat out of the freezer and dropped it into the sink to thaw out. Adam hated meat loaf, but that’s what they were having for dinner. She looked around the kitchen to make sure Adam could find no fault with it, then ran upstairs to Olivia’s room. It always amazed her that a little girl could keep her room so neat and tidy. Adam’s kids were natural-born slobs.
She started to rummage through everything. She cursed as she pawed through Olivia’s meager belongings. Nothing. She looked in the closet and found Olivia’s “nest” way in the back. She dropped to her knees, knowing instantly that this spot was where the little girl went to hide. She ripped and gouged at the foam in the pillows, shredding the pillowcases. She tore and sliced the pictures Olivia had drawn of her other family and her real mother until they were nothing more than confetti. Satisfied, she backed out of the closet and headed back downstairs, where she gathered up trash bags from the garage. She reached for a rake that was minus a few prongs and proceeded to sweep up the driveway.
As she worked, Darlene cursed up a storm, wishing there was someone she could call to vent. A friend. But she didn’t have any friends. Adam didn’t really have any friends, either. There was no one. She couldn’t even call Adam’s kids—not that she would have—because Adam had smashed their cell phones. She wondered where they were, but then decided she didn’t really care. Adam was right about one thing, at least. They really were nothing but trouble.
She continued to sweep and rake as her mind tore loose. She thought about all the damned money she’d squandered on the breast implants, the dental veneers, the Botox, the cut-rate designer clothes. She wished she had the money in her hand. She’d split from the city of Rosemont so quick, Adam’s head would spin.
She started to cry then, because she realized the futility of her situation. Julie Wyatt was going to win. She’d be homeless, on the street, begging for food. And that little snot Olivia would be living in the lap of luxury just the way her dear old dad wanted her to live. “Well, screw you, Larry Wyatt. You’re fucking dead. D-E-A-D! And I’m alive! That makes me the winner.” Darlene nearly choked on her own laughter.
Chapter 21
Charles Martin lowered the awning on the terrace and plopped down on one of the padded chairs. He felt so alone, even though the dogs were with him. He rarely, if ever, took a break like this, a sure sign that something was troubling him and he needed to think it through. He was worried about Myra and Annie, and that was the bottom line.
He knew he was going to be in a boatload of trouble once the boys arrived in Rosemont, Alabama, in the morning. He didn’t even want to think about the tales they were going to be telling their wives and girlfriends about where they were going. He had been insistent on that little detail, knowing the Sisters would want to rush to Myra and Annie’s side to help, something he knew Myra and Annie didn’t want. Well, he’d just have to soak up the punishing silence Myra would dole out on her return. He cringed when he thought about the cold shoulder his wife would give him. Once, she’d gone weeks without speaking to him. And then it had been months before she would allow him back into their bed. His wonderful, lovely, independent wife was so good at holding a grudge. He shivered in the warm sunshine.
Charles wished he’d made coffee instead of iced tea as he shivered despite the warmth of the day. With nothing else to do at the moment, he went back into the house to make coffee. He nibbled on a sugar cookie while he waited for the coffee to drip into the pot. He purposely made his mind a blank as he waited. That was the whole reason for going out to the terrace to think. Terraces were for thinking, not kitchens.
The moment he heard the last little gurgle from the pot, he poured and walked back out to the terrace so fast, he spilled half the coffee. A loud sigh, so loud the dogs raised their heads, escaped his lips. He’d clean up the spill later. He needed to think about all the things Myra had told him yesterday afternoon. There had been so much he wanted to say, but he’d kept quiet. When it came to children, especially little girls, Myra wouldn’t have listened anyway. Not that he had any words of wisdom at that point.
He had to admit, though, so far those two ladies had it going on. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pictured Darlene Wyatt finally realizing she didn’t exist, thanks to Abner Tookus. The man was a pure genius. And now it was coming down to the wire. He couldn’t decide if he was angry, miffed, or plain old pissed off that his two ladies wouldn’t give him details of their plan to, as Myra said, take out Darlene. In the covert world, he knew what the term meant, but with Annie and Myra, that same term could have a whole other meaning. That’s why he was sending the boys to Rosemont, and now he had to call Avery Snowden so he would be at the ready for disposal purposes. There was no way on Earth that Darlene Wyatt and her boyfriend could be left behind when Myra and Annie were through with them.
Charles gulped at the hot coffee and burn
ed his tongue. He barely noticed. His mind wandered to the little girl and all the things Myra had told him. His eyes burned at the memory. Then he started to think about Julie Wyatt and the bond Myra and Annie had forged with her. He smiled at the way Myra had described all the money she had suddenly come into. According to Myra, the amazing part was that Julie Wyatt was totally not interested in the money. All she wanted was that little girl, peace, and contentment. The money was just that, money. Myra had said she felt confident that Julie was going to give it all away. Myra was usually on the money—no pun intended—when it came to things like that. It was Annie who had suggested Julie start up a movement for grandparents’ rights and take it all the way to Capitol Hill. There was not one shred of doubt in Charles’s mind that it was exactly what Julie Wyatt would do, with Annie and Myra leading the charge.
The phone in his breast pocket chirped. The dogs didn’t stir as he flipped it open and listened to Avery Snowden say his ETA in Rosemont, Alabama, would be in three hours. He went on to say he had everything in place, and that nighttime was best to do reconnaissance work. They spoke for a few more minutes. When Charles ended the call, he felt much better, so much better that he poured the ice-cold tea into his glass and scrapped the hot coffee. He’d stopped shivering somewhere along the way. He gulped at the tart drink until it was gone.
Then it was time to go out into the yard and throw sticks for the dogs so they would get their daily exercise. He whistled for the dogs. A moment later, they were all in the yard, whooping and barking, as Charles did what he did best. He laughed out loud when he remembered how Myra had said she was going to start throwing sticks for him so he could run and lose some weight. She’d added insult to injury and poked at his midsection to make her point. Then, she’d added a further insult and said that she was still the same size eight she’d been when he’d first met her all those years ago.
Ted Robinson marched up to the Avis car-rental kiosk and gave his name to a chipper young woman with flaming red hair. He handed over a credit card from the Post and signed his name. The pert young thing smiled up at Ted and said, “Mercy, I didn’t know our little summer festival was known all the way in Washington, D.C.”
Ted floundered for a moment and then just smiled. Well, at least they now had a cover story of sorts. Small-town America is what readers want to know about.
Walking away from the counter, Ted said, “Hey, guys, we now have a cover story. There’s some kind of summer festival here in town. Not that we need a cover story, but it’s there if we want it. I got us a Ford Explorer. We can all fit in with comfort. We got a map, and the GPS will do the rest. Let’s get something to eat before we descend on the ladies. I’m thinking we’re going to get a blast of real heat from our two favorite people. Hell, Annie will probably fire me on the spot.”
The boys trailed through the parking lot of the airport till they came to their rental. They all piled in, with Bert driving. He fiddled with the GPS, made sure everyone was buckled up, and suggested a sing-along, in which everyone declined to participate.
“What’s our plan?” Jack asked.
“We don’t have a plan,” Espinosa barked. “And we aren’t making one, either. Every time you mention the word plan, something goes haywire. I say we leave it to the ladies and their plan, whatever that may be, and we just do what they say unless they boot our asses all the way back to D.C., which is probably what is going to happen anyway. And if that’s the case, we won’t have to worry about our plan, their plan, or no plan.”
“Well, damn, Espinosa, that little speech was like a dissertation, something I never heard from you before. I might add, you are a little snippy today, aren’t you?” Jack exploded.
“Yeah,” was Harry’s contribution to the conversation.
“It needed to be said,” Espinosa pointed out defiantly.
“He has a point,” Harry volunteered again. “I have a very clear recollection of a pumpkin plan awhile back.”
“Yeah, well, in the end it worked. You know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men, don’t you?” Jack grumbled.
“No, I don’t know that one. Why don’t you enlighten us, Jack,” Bert guffawed.
“I would, but I can’t remember what it is,” Jack grumbled again.
Ten minutes later, Bert pulled off the interstate, followed a road, and then another, which took them to the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel.
“You guys are going to love this place. Down-home cooking at its finest,” Espinosa said, gleefully rubbing his hands together. “Just order one of everything on the menu, and you can’t go wrong.”
Inside the restaurant, the boys, who, with the exception of Espinosa, had never been to a Cracker Barrel, stood still and gawked at the sight that greeted their eyes.
“Told you!” Espinosa chortled in glee. “What a concept, huh? You shop while you wait for your table. I’ll sign us in, then we have to wait till they call our names. Shop it up, boys! There’s something here for everyone!”
Jack looked at Harry, whose eyes were glazed over as he took in the mountains of merchandise. Jack had a fearful moment until he saw Harry start to shop. By the time the hostess called their names, each of the boys had a shopping bag filled to the top. Between the five of them, Bert estimated they’d dropped over $400 on stuff no one needed and probably wouldn’t want when it was given out. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Harry this happy over mere shopping. In fact, to his knowledge, Harry had never seen the inside of a store, much less shopped. He wondered if he was looking at a miracle named Harry Wong.
Ninety minutes later, stuffed to the gills, and carrying takeout bags, the boys trotted out to the Explorer, packed their shopping bags in the back, and climbed aboard. “Now, wasn’t that a pleasant way to do lunch?” Espinosa cackled.
“I loved every minute of it, Espinosa,” Harry said sincerely. “I am so glad you had the foresight to bring us all here. You should be commended. The food was . . . well, the food was not too much to my liking, but I did eat it. Do not pay attention to these clods. They don’t know a thing about what’s good and what isn’t.”
The silence in the Explorer was louder than thunder.
Ten minutes later, Bert said, “We’re two miles from our destination. We are driving through the main part of town now. Nice town. People milling about on a nice summer day. Lots of trees and flowers. Bet there are bumblebees in those flowers. Buildings look kept up. Yep, I’d say this is a nice place to live and raise a family. The flip side is this place just went through a hurricane. And yet it’s like it never happened. Guess people care about their town and their neighbors. I don’t know if I could live in a small town like this, though. But it is nice.”
“And thank you for that little speech,” Ted said. “Come on, we’re all city boys, we’d stagnate here. But I agree, it appears to be a nice little town.”
The robotic voice on the GPS came to life just as Bert shouted for all of them to pipe down so he could hear the directions.
Bert reduced the speed on the Explorer to a crawl. He pointed to the electronic keypad. “You guys got any bright ideas on how to get into this place?”
Harry craned his neck. He looked at the iron spikes on the six-foot-high fence and said, “I could vault over it, but that still won’t help me to open the gate from inside. I say you blow the horn, lean on it, and see if you can rouse someone. If not, I’ll tackle the fence and knock on the door.”
Bert leaned on the horn for a full thirty seconds. They could all hear the dogs barking frantically inside the house. The moment Bert released his hand from the horn, they heard a voice asking them to identify themselves.
“Bert Navarro. I’m here to see Ms. Rutledge and Ms. de Silva.” He rolled his eyes for the guys’ benefit just as the gate swung open.
“Man, I am not looking forward to this meeting,” Ted said. “Annie is going to hand me my walking papers. I just know it. How in the hell did I let you guys talk me into this gig in the first
place?”
“We didn’t talk you into anything. This was all your idea,” Jack said.
“Oh, yeah? Well that’s not how I remember it. Oh, shit! Look at them standing up there on the porch—excuse me, veranda. And they look meaner than cat shit,” Ted groaned.
Jack hopped out of the Explorer and, with as much cheerfulness as he could muster, said, “Well, hi there, ladies! It’s really very good to see you. Charles sent us.”
Chapter 22
The boys trooped up the steps to the veranda, bright smiles on their faces, not sure what to expect from the two steely-eyed women standing next to another woman they had yet to meet.
Introductions were made with more bright smiles and a slight quiver to the voices of the newcomers. Julie looked at the five men and said, “Let me see if I can guess which one is which. Myra and Annie told me all about you.” As she went down the line, she had each one pegged. She laughed, a sound of pure mirth. “Please, come in. We were just talking about you all, if you can believe that.”
And then they were inside and headed to the kitchen, the dogs yipping and yapping for attention. “I’m sorry for their bad manners. They love company. While you all get acquainted, I’ll make coffee,” Julie said as she bustled around the coffeepot.
An uneasy silence followed as Myra and Annie stared across the table at the five men both women considered the sons they’d never had. “Speaking strictly for myself, I’m glad you’re here,” Annie blurted. Annie’s outburst was so unexpected, the boys could only gape at her.
“I feel the same way,” Myra said. “Having said that, I’ll deal with Charles on my return. He should have let us know you were coming. Neither Annie nor I deal with surprises very well.”
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