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by Fern Michaels


  Pinkish bubbles gurgled from Rag’s mouth, but no audible sound came out.

  “Where is she, you son of a bitch!” Goebel continued to scream at Rag, hoping against hope for an answer.

  Before he knew what was happening, Goebel felt a heavy hand slam down hard on his back. “Freeze. You’re under arrest!”

  Racing footsteps broke through the crowd that had gathered at the scene. Keith, Ron, and Jeff, with badges out in front of them, shouted, “LAPD!”

  Sweat dripped from the three guys as they pushed their way toward the gaggle of cops surrounding Goebel, Rag, and the two thugs.

  “This man is working undercover. Let him go,” Keith said.

  “The injured man is wanted in connection with a kidnapping that took place last night. We need him to talk.”

  Sirens blazed as an ambulance drove up to the scene. The crowd parted to make room for the EMTs as they raced to the fallen man with a gurney between them.

  The uniformed cop lowered his gun and said, “I don’t think this guy is gonna be talking to anyone anytime soon, if at all.”

  The EMTs quickly placed a backboard under Rag, carefully lifting him onto the gurney. “Start an IV. This guy’s losing blood fast.”

  “Wait,” Goebel shouted to the EMTs, who were lifting Rag into the back of the ambulance. “This man is wanted for kidnapping. I need to talk to him now!”

  “Sorry, but if we don’t get him to the hospital ASAP, he ain’t gonna be talking to anyone but St. Peter.”

  Chapter 28

  Every patron at Bubba Gump’s gathered at the window to stare at the growing crowd on the boardwalk end of the pier.

  “What’s going on?” Sophie asked their waitress.

  “The manager said someone was shot. Probably a gang thing or something,” she said as she strained to see out the window.

  Toots sprang out of her chair. “Shot! Who? Chris, let’s get out of here now.” Not waiting for the others, Toots raced out of the restaurant, fearing the worst.

  An ambulance passed Toots as she raced toward the Marine Science Center, where a huge crowd stood, surrounded by dozens of police officers. Toots looked behind her, seeing Chris, Phil, and the godmothers.

  “Goebel! Where is he?” Toots screamed into the crowd, as if someone had an answer.

  “Wait, Toots!” Phil shouted from behind.

  She turned around when she heard his voice. Chris was right beside him.

  “Wait here, Tootsie. Let me see what’s going on,” Chris said.

  “No way! I’m coming with you,” Toots shouted.

  Chris spied Keith talking to one of the uniformed officers. He hurried to his side. “What happened, and where in the hell is Goebel?”

  “He’s right there,” Keith said, pointing in the opposite direction.

  “Oh my God, he’s been shot,” Sophie cried out as she saw Goebel before Toots had a chance to turn around and see him covered in blood. “Quick, someone get Phil,” Sophie shouted.

  Keith walked over to the hysterical Sophie. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, ma’am. That’s not his blood. He’s fine. He’s just answering a few questions.”

  “About what?” Sophie asked.

  “Just calm down,” he said, before walking away to join Ron and Jeff.

  Seconds later, Toots and Phil were at Goebel’s side. Phil reached out to check the source of the blood that covered Goebel’s shirt.

  “Oh my God,” Toots cried. “What happened? Where is Abby? Did you find her? Please tell me she isn’t hurt!”

  “Rag was shot. This is his blood, Toots. He’s in bad shape. I tried to get him to tell me where Abby was, but the bastard’s lost so much blood, he’s unconscious. He can’t speak.”

  Toots drew in a breath, then let it out in one giant swoosh. “Goebel, we have to make him tell us where she is. Let’s go to the hospital now.”

  Calmly, Goebel took Toots off to the side. “Listen, Abby is fine. I’m going to the hospital, and I’ll wait until the son of a bitch wakes up, and I promise you, he’ll tell me where she’s at before the night is over. Trust me, Toots.”

  About that time, Dave inserted himself into the conversation. “I still have a few connections, Goebel. I can have someone posted at the hospital to keep us updated. I’ll tell them he’s got a kidnap victim in an undisclosed location, and we need to know where to find her as soon as possible.”

  “Good. Do it,” Goebel said succinctly.

  By this time, Chris’s buddies had gathered around Goebel. They talked among themselves for a few minutes; then Goebel filled Toots and the others in on what they’d just relayed to him.

  “Apparently, we weren’t the only ones looking for Rag. He was shot accidentally by one of the two hoods who were sent from Venezuela to get him. It seems Rag ripped off the husband of some broad he was having an affair with, and said husband wasn’t too pleased. He sent his henchmen to bring him back. Jeff said they had narrowed those cell-phone pings down to an area in South Central LA, what used to be called Watts.”

  Toots perked up at that news. “Abby told me that! She said something on the phone, remember? We’ve got to find her, Goebel. I will absolutely move heaven and earth, whatever it takes, to get her home safely. This can’t end like all those stories we hear on the news. She has to be all right.”

  “I’m familiar with the area. Not a place you’d want to be after dark, or during the day, for that matter, but remember, Abby is tough as nails,” Chris said.

  Upon hearing his mistress’s name, Chester made himself known. He’d lingered where Rag’s body lay.

  “Hey, boy, come over here,” Mavis called. She and Ida had remained totally silent throughout the entire episode. Chester trotted over to Mavis. She scratched between his ears and leaned down so he could lick her face. “I’ll keep him with me.”

  “Thanks, Mavis. In all the commotion, I didn’t think about him,” Toots said. “Abby would have wanted us to take good care of him.” Toots teared up again as she caught herself thinking again of her daughter in the past tense.

  “Jeff, how much of an area are we talking about with those pings? Can we cover the area on foot? Can we go door to door?” Chris asked, more worried than he let on. Toots was one hair from losing it. Someone had to remain calm in order to see this through to the end, meaning finding Abby. That night.

  Goebel cleared a path, motioning for everyone to gather around. “We’re not accomplishing anything here. Let’s get back to the beach house, where we can regroup. Dave’s buddy is already headed to the hospital. He’ll keep us posted. The second Rag talks, we’ll know.”

  None of them had slept, eaten, or showered since the day before. They agreed and returned to their vehicles for a traffic-jammed drive back to Malibu.

  An hour later, they were assembled at the beach house. Mavis made coffee, heated up some frozen pastries, while the rest took showers in the four bathrooms.

  When they were all seated around the kitchen table, refreshed and caffeinated, Goebel’s cell phone startled them all. He answered, and they watched and listened.

  “I see. Okay. Let me know if there’s any change.” Goebel clicked the END button on his cell and looked at Toots. “That was Dave’s buddy calling from the hospital. Rag is in recovery but has slipped into a coma. They’re not sure of anything now. It could be days. I’m so sorry, Toots. I wish I had better news.”

  Toots looked at Sophie; then tears gushed from her eyes. Sophie sobbed, Mavis struggled to remain calm, and Ida wept uncontrollably.

  “Now there is no one who can help us find Abby,” she said in a defeated voice.

  Sophie grabbed a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table. She dried her eyes, then cleared her throat. “I know someone who can help us.”

  “Who?” Toots asked.

  “Abby’s father,” Sophie said, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

  “But I thought he was dead?” Phil asked, puzzled.

  “He is
, but that’s never stopped us before,” Toots replied.

  Chapter 29

  “What exactly does that mean? I thought you were a widow,” Phil said to Toots.

  Out of her mind with worry for Abby, the last thing she wanted to do was explain Sophie’s paranormal abilities to him. He was a doctor. A man who lived by the rules of science. She didn’t want to scare him away. So far, he’d been a great rock to lean on. If she told him about the events that took place in the dining room, he might suffer from a heart attack himself, and then what would she do?

  “She is. A few times over,” Sophie interjected.

  Toots shook her head. “Please, Sophia, not now. It’s . . . The timing is all wrong, please. Let’s not talk about this. All I’m concerned with now is Abby.” She gazed at Phil. “Maybe you should just head back to Charleston. You have done enough, and I appreciate it, but your patients must need you much more than I do.” Toots didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but she couldn’t see dragging Phil into this part of her life. Eight dead husbands, a best friend who just so happened to speak to dead people. And now a daughter missing. It was simply too much to ask of him.

  “My patients are just fine, and if they’re not, there are other cardiologists to cover for me. I’m not going anywhere until we find Abby. And don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I want to be here, Toots. No one is holding a gun to my head. Okay?” He reached for her hand, and once again she began to cry, her tears flowing as freely as a baby’s.

  “Toots, we’re all here for you, no matter what you say,” Mavis said in a soft voice. “I believe Dr. Becker . . . uh, Phil is trying to say he cares about you.” Mavis blushed, but she wasn’t usually so forthright around strangers.

  “Thank you, Mavis. That’s exactly how I feel. I don’t care what you or your friends have done in the past. I care about the future. Our future. Abby is a part of your future, so she’s going to be part of mine as well. Now, Sophie, can you please explain to me what you meant when you said Abby’s father could help us find her?”

  Everyone gathered around the kitchen table focused their attention on Sophie, then Toots. Several seconds passed. Toots took a deep breath, then nodded at Sophie, giving her permission to reveal her psychic abilities.

  “Where should I start?” Sophie asked.

  Toots, Mavis, and Ida all gaped at Sophie.

  “The beginning is always a good place,” Phil said. “Is this something illegal? Because if it is, don’t worry. I go through traffic lights all the time. I’m sure someday I’ll have my driver’s license taken away.”

  Sophie’s eyes twinkled. “Uh, no, there’s nothing illegal about it. At least I don’t think there is. If it is, the wife of our former governor wouldn’t have requested my services. If only I’d known then, I could have told her what a . . . cheating scumbag he is.”

  “Sophie, please,” Mavis said. “Now isn’t the time.”

  “Okay. Toots purchased this dump about a year ago. It had formerly been owned by Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, before they divorced. A young pop star rented it for a number of years from the estate that owned it, and redecorated the place. Toots got it for a song, or so she said”—Sophie raised her eyebrows—“but she had to practically gut the inside and start from scratch. Well, and here’s where it gets a little . . . sticky. We were staying here in the early stages of the remodeling. My bedroom started out as Toots’s until . . . she had a very traumatic experience, and we switched rooms.” Sophie paused suddenly, not sure where to go from there, then decided she might as well get it out in the open. If she was going to make contact with the dead tonight, Dr. Phil Becker needed to know immediately.

  All eyes were focused on her.

  “So, with all the remodeling, tearing down walls, we must have disturbed the spirits. Toots woke up and found these shadowlike images floating around her bed. They were like clouds, but inside were the faces of Bing Crosby and Aaron Spelling, the actor and the movie mogul. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He had several successful sitcoms in the seventies and eighties.”

  The old proverbial “you could hear a pin drop” applied to that moment in the kitchen. No one uttered a single, solitary word.

  Sophie went on. “To make a very long story short, this dump was haunted, and it still is, because we hold our séances here now. I’ve been quite successful reaching the dead, so I guess you could say I’m more than a little bit psychic, and a medium to boot. That’s why Toots always asks me how I feel when things are . . . well, like they are now. I haven’t had a bad feeling about Abby yet, but if I can contact her father, it’s possible he can guide us to her location before those cell pings do. Now, it’s not one hundred percent, but I’ve helped quite a few celebrities. I even located Chris and that stupid actress a few months ago, when they disappeared. So, basically, that’s it.”

  “Now, let me get this straight. Is it your intention to have some sort of séance and basically ask Abby’s father to guide you to where she is?” Phil asked, seemingly unshaken.

  “Well, yes, that is the general idea,” Sophie quipped. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy?”

  Phil shook his head. “Remember where I’m from? I was born and raised in Charleston, so the supernatural, or paranormal activities, is something I’m not a stranger to. I’ve even been on a few ghost tours in my day.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, what are we waiting for?”

  Toots’s, Ida’s, and Mavis’s jaws dropped to their chests. Goebel gave a wry smile, and Chris just shook his head. Toots spoke first.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Why not? Don’t I sound serious? Not all doctors believe science and medical books have all the answers. I’ve seen patients die on the operating table and come back and tell me things that happened thousands of miles away, as if they were there when the events took place. A lot of it was backed up by family members. People have told me about events that would take place in the future more than enough times. The most memorable was a young man who’d suffered a heart attack and was clinically dead for five minutes. We were able to bring him back, and he told me he had seen an apple sitting on a desk next to a ruler, and an explosion in the sky. It was three weeks later when Christa McAuliffe was killed in the space shuttle. So, I guess you could call me a believer. Every day we see and hear things and dismiss them. Not many of my colleagues believe this, but I’ve heard too much not to know there is another plane of existence out there.”

  “Then let’s get started. Does everyone want to attend? If not, say so now. I don’t want any disturbances, unless they’re from the other side.”

  No one said a word.

  “Okay. Mavis, you know what your job is. Toots, are you up to this?”

  “Yes, let’s hurry. I want to find Abby tonight. I don’t think I can go another night not knowing where she is,” Toots said.

  “Follow me.” Sophie led them all to the dining room, where they’d performed many séances in the past. Even though Toots had remodeled the entire house, they’d left this one room alone since it was where Sophie made contact with the other side.

  Once they were in the dining room, Mavis placed several candles around the room, quickly lighting them. Sophie pulled the heavy drapes aside. Toots found the purple silk sheet they used as a tablecloth and spread it across the table. On the floor, in the corner, was a box of rocks glasses they used as a tool for communication should a spirit decide to join them. Ida placed one of the glasses in the center of the table.

  “Let’s all take our places. Chris, you can sit where Abby normally sits. Goebel, you sit next to Ida, and, Ida, keep your hands off. Mavis and Toots, I want you two on either side of me. Phil, if you’re sure you want to involve yourself in this, have a seat next to Chris.”

  Once they were all seated, with candles flickering, the purple silk sheet atop the table, Sophie began the séance as she always did.

  As always, when Sophie prepared to make contact with the other side, her voice changed to one tha
t was soft, almost seductive. “Now, if everyone is ready, let’s begin. First, I always start with a prayer. Please bow your heads,” Sophie instructed.

  They all bowed their heads.

  “Oh, great one, bless this dump and those who may inhabit it, living or dead. We wish to make contact tonight with John Simpson. Let’s all join hands.”

  One by one, they reached for the hand next to them. When Toots took Sophie’s hand, she gave it a little extra squeeze.

  “Let’s close our eyes,” Sophie said.

  Again, the group did as told.

  They remained that way for several minutes; then Sophie spoke again. “Let’s all place our fingertips on the glass in the center of the table.”

  They did.

  “Tonight we would be greatly pleased if John Simpson could come through. Abby is in trouble, and we here on earth cannot find her.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then relaxed, her body almost limp.

  No air circulated in the room, yet the candles flickered as though a slight breeze had passed over them. Hundreds of tiny white lights began to fill the room.

  There were several gasps from those in the room.

  “Don’t let this frighten you. These are orbs.” She closed her eyes again, then opened them. “John, are you here with us?”

  Suddenly, the room was filled with a noise that sounded like thousands of bees. Bright orbs began to whirl around the room, and a cool blast of air settled around the table.

  “This is quite normal,” Sophie explained, as she knew that Phil and Goebel were experiencing supernatural contact with the dead for the first time. She didn’t want them to be frightened, even though it was a bit scary, even to her at times.

 

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