Maybe she should ask Chris to look into Rag’s disappearance. He was an attorney. Surely he had or knew an investigator who could check into Rag’s affairs without its becoming public. Yes, Chris would know what to do. She considered the late hour, but he had said he wasn’t going to go to sleep and would be calling early. She felt hot all over as she thought about their conversation. What would he think if she called him instead of waiting for him to call her? It’s Chris, she told herself. He wouldn’t care what time she called. She raced to the kitchen, where she’d left her cell phone in its charger. She punched in his number as she returned to the bedroom.
“Chris Clay.”
Abby smiled. “Remember, you’re supposed to say hello?”
She heard what sounded like rustling covers, then the click of a lamp switch.
“I should have known it was you. What? You couldn’t wait for me to call you? No one else calls me this late except your mother. I always say that, don’t I?” He was acting like he was fourteen again. Fourteen must have been a good year in his life.
“Were you in bed?” Abby visualized his broad shoulders splayed across the bed, his classically handsome features, jet-black hair mussed from her fingers raking through it. And then she visualized herself nestled next to him.
“Yes, but I wasn’t sleeping. I might never sleep again. I was just waiting for ... you know, early, to call you. Abby?” Fourteen and one month.
“Oh, sorry. What?”
“You asked if I was in bed, and I told you I was,” Chris repeated.
“You want me to call back tomorrow?” she asked, then remembered it was tomorrow.
“No, I’m awake. Actually, I was just thinking about you. So what gives?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy, but I’m certain you already do.” Abby took a deep breath, releasing it. “I’m sure you heard Mom and me discussing The Informer at dinner last night.” She paused, allowing him a second to follow her. When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Rag, my boss, didn’t show up for work today—yesterday, that is. That in itself isn’t unusual. He’s known to spend his weekends gambling and drinking in Vegas. He rarely shows up on a Monday, but he’ll call with some half-baked excuse. It usually takes him a day to ride out his hangover. Here it is the middle of the week, the paper has been sold, and he’s nowhere to be found. I thought about calling the casinos where he hangs out, but he’ll kill me if he finds out, which leads to my reason for calling. I figured as an attorney you might have an investigator or know of one that I could hire to find Rag. I know what you’re going to say, but before you say it, don’t waste your breath. Of course I’m a reporter with contacts. I’m simply hesitant to use them. When Rag decides to grace us with his presence, as I said, he’ll have my ass for checking up on him. So do you think this is something you can help me with? We can still do that early call. This call is just ... a ball.” Oh, God, how lame was that?
Several seconds passed before Chris spoke, and when he did, his words were a complete shock.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Abby.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she replied, more than a little miffed at his response.
“Neither. It’s simply a conflict of interest. Your mom asked me to do a bit of work for her. I’m sorry. That’s all I can tell you.”
And here she’d thought after the fingertip kissing, Chris would be putty in her hands. Wrong. That had to mean their entire evening was a conflict of interest. She needed to say something. “I see. Then I guess I won’t bother you anymore. Good night.” Abby snapped her cell phone shut. She made a mental promise to herself to never ask Christopher Clay for another favor as long as she lived.
Even into perpetuity.
Chapter 29
Toots, Sophie, Mavis, and Ida gathered around the dining room table in Toots’s bungalow. For some reason that bungalow had become the unofficial meeting place. She had to admit she liked it that way because she was lazy. If she decided to smoke, she could. Hers was a smoking bungalow. If the others didn’t like it, tough titty. Since she was footing the bill for this little vacation, what she wanted should count for something. Which reminded her of the ten-million-dollar hit she’d taken. She was so angry, she knew she was capable of chewing nails and spitting rust. At the moment she had to deal with her friends. She had the rest of her life to plot the death of the person who stole her money. She and the girls were doing Jell-O shots just then. She’d worry about her ten million dollars tomorrow.
“Mavis, all you have to do is pour it down your throat. You don’t actually eat it,” Toots said when she saw Mavis using a spoon to eat her lime green Jell-O. Toots had requested the Jell-O shots when she observed two young women tossing them back by the pool. One more new experience to add to her growing list.
“I’m savoring it.”
“Leave her alone, Toots. If she wants to use a knife and fork, it’s her business,” Sophie admonished.
“Okay, okay. But just one; remember, Mavis is on a diet. The last time I heard, alcohol was fattening.”
“Will the two of you stop fussing already,” Mavis said.
They went at it like they usually did.
“If Sophie would keep her unwanted opinions to herself, there wouldn’t be any fussing, as you put it,” Toots said.
“Whatever! You’re as bad as I am, Toots, admit it. Now give me another one of those shots. I plan on getting good and drunk tonight.”
Toots removed another round of shots from the refrigerator. “Any particular reason?”
“I called home today and spoke with Walter’s nurse. He isn’t doing so well. She said his vital organs were starting to shut down. With his liver gone, what does she expect? She acted like I was supposed to be surprised or sad, whatever. She said it could be just a matter of hours before he’s gone. Then she insinuated that most wives would be at their husbands’ bedsides. I wanted to ask her how many bedsides she’d been at where the dying husbands had beaten the daylights out of their wives, but I was good. I told her to call if he took a turn for the worse. So does that answer your question?” Sophie slurped another shot and reached for a second one. “Why don’t we make a toast, Toots? Mavis? Ida?”
“I’m ready,” Toots said.
Mavis held her empty shot cup in the air. “I’ll just use the empty shot glass.”
“I’ll pass,” Ida said from her chair at the head of the table.
“To Walter, may his passing be painful and his insurance settlement speedy!”
They all chimed in, touching the little shot glasses together. “To Walter!”
Toots watched Sophie out of the corner of her eye. Sophie was a tough old bird, but she knew her old friend was indeed hurting. Not so much because of Walter’s imminent passing, but the sadness that came with endings. “I can have a private jet ready whenever you need to go, okay?”
“That’ll work, Toots. Thanks.”
The little group mumbled and muttered and continued to drink. And smoke.
Sophie held up her empty cup. Toots opened the refrigerator and took out the two remaining shots and handed both to Sophie. “You can have these. I don’t think I can handle any more. You were right to want to get drunk tonight, Sophie. After Leland’s funeral, I drank an entire bottle of wine. I think all widows should get snockered. Dulls the pain of knowing you have to wear black. But that’s only when you don’t care. I didn’t care, and it’s pretty obvious Sophie doesn’t care, so there you are!”
“I already told you I was not wearing black. I’m going to wear red. I don’t want to do the mourning thing, Tots, Tits ... you know what I mean? I just want to bury Walter, cook his ass up, and be done with it. I’m not even sure I want to stay in the city. It’s so nasty, with all those garbage bags tossed on the sidewalk. It stinks, too. Why should I go back? Can either of you give me a good reason?” Sophie was drunk, her words beginning to slur. “Ida?”
“You can come to Maine and live with me. I have a beautiful little cottage. You wouldn’t have to pay
me anything either,” Mavis said.
“Oh, Mavis, you’re too damned kind. You’d get sick of me in two days. I could move in with Ida, she’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The look of fear that crossed Ida’s face sent Sophie into another fit of laughter. When she caught her breath, she said, “I’m joking, okay? What do you do with your garbage, Ida? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Sophie, you’re such a smart-ass,” Toots said.
“Well, I’m an honest smart-ass. So”—Sophie turned to Ida—“really, what do you do with your garbage when you’re afraid to touch it?”
Toots lost it then. She doubled over, grabbing her stomach.
“Sophie,” Ida said, “you always were a bitch. I’m going back to my bungalow. Good night, Mavis, Teresa.”
“I guess that means she isn’t going to answer my question. Good night, Ida, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Sophie couldn’t contain her laughter, couldn’t stop slinging stupid comments at Ida.
Ida left, and Sophie continued as if she’d never been interrupted.
“Maybe I’ll find a place out here. The weather’s perfect, I haven’t smelled anyone’s garbage yet.” Sophie reached for a cigarette, stuck it in the corner of her mouth, then lit up. She took a deep drag, holding the smoke in as long as she could before releasing it in one big puff. A glorious smoke halo sailed upward to settle over Toots’s head.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on Ida. We all know she’s a nutcase, but she is our friend,” Toots reminded her.
“Oh, screw Ida and the horse she rode in on,” Sophie snapped. “I’m sick of her phobia, her disease, or whatever the hell she has. It is my opinion Ida would snap out of her craziness if there was a man in her life. By the way, I decided not to keep Walter’s insurance money. I’m going to donate it all to charity. What do you think of that?”
“That could be the solution to Ida’s problem, but she’d never admit it. You might be right, Sophie, it could be as simple as Ida can’t live without a man. She didn’t become this germ freak until Thomas died. I wonder if she just needs a good lay, you know, an all-nighter?” Toots said thoughtfully.
“Oh, you two, I swear! I’m going to go before I laugh myself silly. I have a seven A.M. workout scheduled.” Mavis hefted her bulk off the chair, grabbed Coco, hooked the tiny leash to the Chihuahua’s bejeweled collar, then waddled to the door. “I’ll see you girls in the morning. And don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do. Night.”
“Good night, Mavis. Call my room as soon as you’re finished with your workout,” Toots said, remembering what a struggle it was for Mavis to walk from the bungalow, but she swore she was moving a little faster than she had the day before.
“I will. Night, Sophie.”
Sophie waved her hand in the air. “Night, Mave.”
As soon as they were alone, Toots put on a pot of coffee. “You want to stay here tonight? You’re too drunk to wander around searching for your bungalow, and I’m too tired to cart your ass around.”
“I’m not that drunk. I just like yanking Ida’s and Mavis’s chains, shock them a bit.”
“I figured as much. Were you serious about donating your money to charity?”
“Yeah, I was serious, but on second thought, how about if I just give it to you to offset your loss? So, any word on the thief who got their hands on your ten mil? I wanted to ask earlier, but never had the opportunity.”
Toots was stunned at Sophie’s offer. That five-million-dollar payoff was what had kept Sophie sane all these years. She knew now it was never about the money, hence the offer. As she waited for the coffee to brew, Toots removed two cups from the cabinet, Half & Half from the refrigerator. The sugar bowl was already on the table.
“You aren’t drunk, are you? You have to be the biggest fake in the world. And to answer your question, no, I haven’t heard a word. I was hoping Chris would call with some news, but nothing yet. I wonder if I should contact my bank in Charleston? Maybe they could track this money faster than Chris. But within an hour, that news would be all over town.”
“No, I’m not drunk. How astute of you to notice, Toots. But to answer your question, I don’t see how it could hurt, and I would bet anything Chris doesn’t have the connections your banker has. I know about stuff like this. Remember, I was married to a banker. Walter was a lousy husband, but he was damned good at his job until he started hitting the bottle. Unless you care about the town gossiping about you, I’d make the call.”
“I’ll do it when the bank opens. You know there’s something about what Abby said this afternoon that keeps bothering me. Remember how she said she was worried about her boss, the one who gambles and drinks?” Toots poured them each a cup of coffee and brought them to the table.
“Yeah, I do.” Sophie poured cream in her cup. “What are you thinking?”
“Well, it makes sense that he’s the obvious one to have stolen my money, then took it on the lam. Abby said he was knee-deep in debt, the paper is mortgaged to the hilt, and suddenly my ten million dollars shows up in Chris’s escrow account. Her boss knew it was coming. Who else knew? Then some hacker gets into the account, and, poof, the money disappears before Chris can transfer it to The Informer’s account as payment for the purchase. Finally, to top it off, the slimeball disappears. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
“And Chris did say the money was transferred to a bank in the Cayman Islands. I think you’re onto something Toots. Maybe we need to make a quick trip to the Caymans.”
“That’s exactly what I need to do, but haven’t you heard? They’ve been hit by a hurricane. I saw it on the Internet this morning when I was checking my e-mail. The airport is closed, and most of Grand Cayman is without power, according to what I read. It could take days to get that island up and running again.”
“So what will you do?”
“That’s just it. There isn’t anything I can do, at least not until Grand Cayman is back together. I’ll keep checking the news and the Internet. Really, now that I’ve laid it all out, I can’t believe how obvious it is! I lose ten million dollars, removed from Chris’s escrow account before he put it into the account of The Informer, and the owner of The Informer disappears.
“I’m a strict believer in common sense, too. The only problem is, I can’t come out and accuse him because, if I do, then Abby will know I’m the one who was buying the paper, the sucker who was bilked out of ten million dollars. Abby would be humiliated if word got out that her mother was buying the paper, the failing paper, mind you, where it just so happens she works, then, boom, she gets ripped off before she even has a chance to make the purchase. That would make terrific headlines for the other tabloids. The ultimate scoop, and it won’t be Abby’s scoop.”
“I can see the headlines now. ‘Rag Rakes in Riches!’ Isn’t that what Abby called him?”
“Yes, actually she told me once it was his initials. They just call him Rag behind his back. You’re right, that wouldn’t look good. When I find him, I’m going to wrap my hands around his neck and choke him until he can’t breathe.”
“Then you’d go to prison for the rest of your life,” Sophie informed her.
“I didn’t mean it literally. It’s just a figure of speech. I assume the feds will go after him since this involves bank fraud. They’ll send him up the river for so long he’ll forget what he did to get there in the first place.”
“That’s too good for him if you ask me.”
“True.” Toots reached for the coffeepot and brought it to the table, refilling their cups.
“So when the hurricane damage is clear, are you going down there?”
“Maybe. I’ll see what Henry says. I’m sure he has a few contacts there. Like you said, bankers know other bankers, that kind of thing. If he thinks I need to go, I will. I’ll have to run all of this by Chris, of course. I trust him, he’s smart, but I don’t think he wanted to get involved in this transaction; he just did it as a favor. He tried to talk
me out of buying that damn paper, but I didn’t listen.”
“Just so you know, I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes. Shit, I’d do it in my own shoes. You did it for Abby, not yourself. We want what you want for her because we all love her.”
“I know that, and Abby does, too. I just know she wouldn’t appreciate me sticking my nose in her business. She set up some ground rules a long time ago, and for the most part, mother or not, I try to stick by them. I might not like them, but I do try.”
“When we were leaving the paper today, I heard her ask you about owning the paper. What was that all about?”
“That made my blood run cold. I think she suspects something. At first I had the silly thought she might ask me to buy the paper as an investment, but that didn’t happen. My gut is telling me she suspects something. It’s a mother-daughter thing.”
“You are her mother, so that means you’re probably right. I wouldn’t bring it up again; let her be the one to come to you. That’s my advice, for whatever it’s worth.”
“I’m not going to say a word. As far as Abby’s concerned, we’re here for a vacation and to spend time with her and nothing more. Now, I don’t know about you, but my old ass is dragging. I say we toss this coffee and call it a night.”
“You always have the best ideas, Toots. I’m going to crawl onto the sofa and call it a day. As long as you don’t mind.”
Toots nodded. Out of habit she rinsed out their cups and turned off the coffeemaker before heading to her room.
“Night, Sophie.”
“Night, Tits.”
Toots heard Sophie giggle as she closed her door.
Chapter 30
Chris crawled out of bed, making his way to the kitchen. After his conversation with Abby, there was no way he could sleep. He prepared a pot of coffee before going outside to sit on the terrace.
A huge wave crashed against the sand just as a cool breeze whipped across the terrace. He dropped down on one of the iron chairs, minus the cushion.
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