Fern Michaels' Godmothers Bundle: The Scoop, Exclusive, Late Edition, Deadline & Breaking News

by Michaels, Fern

  “I agree with Ida,” Mavis said. “This is just too strange for me. I’m just an old Maine girl. Ghosts and spirits don’t scare me, and I do believe they exist. If I didn’t before, I certainly do now.”

  Toots returned to the room with the laptop and a bottle of scotch tucked under her arm at the precise moment that Sophie returned with the equipment. Sophie made fast work of setting up the laptop so they all could view the tapes. When she finished, she placed the computers at the end of the kitchen table.

  “Let’s move our chairs around so we can all see this together. This is some of the same equipment they use on Ghost Trackers. so it’s top-of-the-line. I’ll sit next to the computer in case there are any glitches.”

  Toots poured six shots of scotch. “Anyone need a drink, help yourself.”

  Toots tossed back the scotch like a pro.

  “I’ll have one of those,” Ida said. “Mavis, too.”

  Toots slid two glasses across the table like she’d seen them do in the old Westerns. “Sophie, you want one?”

  “Not yet, let me watch this first. I do want a cigarette, though.”

  Toots stepped out to the deck and grabbed a pack of smokes and a lighter. One of her house rules, and she didn’t have many, was no smoking in the house. She was about to break her own rule. If ever there was a time to do it, this had to be it. She lit two cigarettes and brought them into the house.

  “Sophie, this is a one-time deal, okay?”

  “Sure.” Sophie took the cigarette and drew on the filter-tipped end so hard that her cheeks looked like someone had squeezed them together. She did this two more times, then gave the cigarette back to Toots. “That’ll hold me for a while, I want to watch this. Can everyone see the screen?”

  They all nodded. Toots stood behind her so as not to blow cigarette smoke at the others at the end of the table.

  Sophie made a few quick strokes across the keyboard, then the séance room filled the screen. Each of them leaned as close to the screen as possible, hoping that what they’d witnessed in that room had been captured by Sophie’s high-tech gizmo.

  The images on the screen were of them seated around the table. The expressions on their faces were somber. Sophie’s voice filled the room as she’d explained to Abby and Chris a few rules and things that might or might not happen. This was all caught on tape as the angle of the camera’s lens was focused directly on the table. Like a surveillance camera, Sophie had set hers to scan the table in three-minute increments. This happened three times. They watched the glass roll to the right, then to the left, then roll across the table in front of Toots.

  When it should’ve shown the puffs of mist with the face of Bing Crosby, the camera caught nothing except the look of shock and surprise on their faces. Sophie looked crestfallen when they all sighed in disappointment. Now they knew the mist with the face of Marilyn Monroe wasn’t likely to appear on the screen either. Sophie continued to monitor the computer. All eyes were fixed on the screen, hoping against hope for an image to appear, but nothing happened.

  Abby’s facial expression went from apprehension to shock. That must have been when the image of Marilyn Monroe appeared. They continued to stare at the computer screen, but other than their shocked expressions and the glass rolling across the purple sheet, nothing else appeared on-screen.

  “Shit,” Sophie said, as her fingers started dancing across the keyboard. “I’ll save this, but we’re going to have a hard time convincing anyone that glass moved on its own.” She was about to cut the image when Abby saw something on the screen. “Stop! Can you rewind that a millimeter? I think I saw something.”

  “Sure,” Sophie said. She used her finger as the mouse controller. She reversed the images on the screen by running her hand along the touch pad. When she was close to the clip where Abby asked her to stop, she touched a few keys, and they waited.

  “There! Stop, go back two seconds,” Abby said.

  Again Sophie did as Abby asked. She hit the keys to continue playing when she saw it, too. “I’ll be a son of a gun, look at this. All of you come closer.”

  They all gathered around the monitor as close as they could without bumping heads. Sophie did her keyboard dance for the third time, but this time she knew approximately where to stop, as she’d seen something, too.

  “There, look.”

  One by one they took turns leaning as close to the monitor as possible. When they saw what Abby had pointed out, they observed the image, then stepped back for the next one to see. When they’d all viewed the image, they returned to their chairs.

  As Sophie was the resident séance guru with the knowledge to set up, monitor, and operate the high-tech gadgets, she was officially in charge of the evening’s discovery.

  “One by one I want you all to tell me what you saw. I want to make sure we’re all on the same page. Abby, since you were the first to see this, I want you to wait until the others tell us what they saw.”

  “Sure,” Abby said.

  “I’m sure I saw an image of Marilyn Monroe’s lips moving when she said, ‘It was an accident,’ ” Toots said.

  “The same here,” Ida said.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I saw that, too,” Chris said.

  “Same for me,” Mavis said.

  “Is this what you saw, Abby?” Sophie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I saw it, too,” Sophie said. “I can cut out that scene, and take snapshots, too. A program I have allows you to do that. I’ll need a high-tech computer.”

  “We have them at the paper. The new owners haven’t skimped. I’ve got the best that money can buy. Sophie, how soon can we have this?”

  “How soon do you want it?”

  “Yesterday, but tomorrow is fine. I’ve got an idea; I’m not sure it will work, but if it does, The Informer has just been given the mother of all interviews.”

  “You mean to say you’re going to use this in the paper?” Chris asked incredulously.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that this Marilyn Monroe apparition stopped right in front of me? Who better to tell than a tabloid reporter? She had to know this. Don’t ask me how; I’ll leave that to the Big Man Upstairs. I think she wants this told. All the unanswered questions about her death will be resolved.”

  “Abs, this is stuff for the sleaziest of tabloids. Do you really believe your readers will believe this? Won’t they put a story like this against, ‘Hey, I saw Elvis eating at Dunkin’ Donuts’?” Chris asked.

  “Oh, sure they will. Don’t you see? You’ve just clarified the concept of tabloid reporting. People are intrigued. They buy the paper. They don’t have to believe, but there’s a chance they will,” Abby said, excitement shining in her clear blue eyes, then her eyes changed from clear blue to stormy dark as the sea when she realized what Chris had said.

  “I still don’t get it. Why do you want to write about something that most people won’t believe, or will laugh at? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been standing in line at Ralph’s watching people’s reactions as they stand in line reading the headlines on those silly papers. They laugh, make some crude comment, and most don’t bother to buy the paper because they’ve already seen the headlines and they’re so far-fetched, they don’t waste their money.”

  “Chris Clay, you are an ass. You have just insulted me, my profession, and my mother’s and my godmothers’ choice of reading material. You’re a real know-it-all. Damn, I wish I knew as much as you did. It must be hard work dragging those third-rate actresses out to all the hot spots you take them to in hopes that they’ll be spotted by Entertainment Weekly, Us, or any other magazine that considers what some two-bit wannabe has for dinner as news! Seems to me we’re pushing the same envelope, just in different colors.”

  “I’m sorry, Abby. I was out of line,” Chris said, his voice full of regret.

  “Tough, I don’t accept your apology. Leave before I decide to scratch your eyes out. That wo
n’t look good in all those magazines that you spend so much time trying to get your clients’ photographs in. Go home.” Abby stepped outside to the deck. She didn’t want to look at Chris Clay, let alone stay in the same room with him. Once an ass always an ass. She should’ve known better.

  She heard his footsteps as he walked across the deck. “I know you don’t want to hear this again, but I really am sorry, Abs. I’m very good at sticking my foot in my mouth.”

  “Yeah, well I’m real good at sticking my foot up someone’s ass. Go home, Chris.”

  “You’re right, it’s time to call it a night. See you around, Abby.”

  Abby stayed on the deck until she heard Chris’s car drive away, then she stepped inside, where her mother and godmothers were all seated at the kitchen table staring at her like she had a third eye in the center of her head.

  “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear it. I’m exhausted after tonight.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, Abby. I am in complete agreement with you. I think your idea to publish what we all know was asked of you is the right decision. I do think you shouldn’t be so hard on Chris. You know how lawyers are? They say the first thing that comes to mind without regard for anyone’s feelings. You should call him and ask him to dinner.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I feel this was almost a divine experience. It’s going to put The Informer on top. What about the Bing Crosby and Aaron Spelling story? And I am going to ignore what you said about inviting Chris to dinner.”

  Toots nodded. “Whatever you say, dear.”

  “Well, I would put that in next week’s edition, don’t know if it’s front-page news, but this is what you do, Abby. And I for one am damn proud of you.” Sophie gave her a kiss and a quick hug. “I’ll come to the paper first thing in the morning so we can work on that photograph. You know what I’m thinking, Abby, we might need to bring Ida along. We could use her expertise.”

  “I think it’s a grand idea,” Abby said. “Would you come with us, Ida?”

  “I’d consider it an honor. But you all have to make me a promise first.” Ida cleared her throat. “All that stuff that happened with that imposter Dr. Sameer, Patel, a.k.a. panty sniffer, and Mohammed, the drug king who got beaten to within an inch of his life, is going to be in the news, since the real Dr. Sameer pressed charges against them. I can’t forget Amala, the hooker, either. I know I will have to testify against them. Toots, Sophie, Mavis, and you, too, Abby, let’s all take a vacation after my face is splashed all over the country. I have a feeling this is going to be one of those trials that Nancy Grace will cover, and I don’t think I can bear to be the object of her sly innuendo as she ‘sympathizes’ with me as one of the aggrieved victims of their plot to steal millions of dollars. Would you all do that for me? Mavis, you can ask George to come along if you’re still seeing him. What do you say? Oh and the trip is on me. I’ve got an extra $3 million burning a hole in my pocket. Deal?”

  One by one they placed their hands one on top of the other. Ida, then Sophie and Mavis, then Toots.

  “Come on, Abby, it’s time you learned about our secret handshake.”

  “What secret handshake?”

  “Toots, you mean to tell me you haven’t told Abby about our secret handshake?”

  “Why don’t you tell her, Sophie?”

  “I’ll do better than tell her, I will show her. Join us, Abby, in your first official secret handshake.”

  Abby placed her hands atop those of four of the most fantastic women she would ever know.

  “On the count of three,” Toots said. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”

  Just like they had in seventh grade all those years ago, the four best friends, now five, tossed their hands high in the air.

  Together, four of them shouted, “Damn, when you’re good, you’re good!” Abby’s echoing shout was a beat behind.

  Epilogue

  Ghostly Encounters

  Abby Simpson

  When it comes to the ghost of Marilyn Monroe, she’s been around. It is believed that her ghost travels through Hollywood, haunting many locations, places she once felt quite comfortable visiting while she lived.

  Many believe she haunts the site of her burial at the Westwood Memorial Cemetery here in Los Angeles. Her ghost has been seen floating around her tomb, waving at other Hollywood stars whose ghosts live among us.

  After her tragic death in August 1962, many speculated her death was a suicide, but there are those who believe there was a conspiracy against her. Some even believe that one or more former members of the Kennedy family might have contributed to her untimely death.

  The Informer attended a private séance, where Marilyn herself appeared, smiling her famous smile . . . but she had a message she has asked me to share with the world. . . . I am honored that she chose me to deliver her message through The Informer. . . . We are proud to share the ghost of Marilyn Monroe’s words over her untimely death. . . . And I quote, “My death was an accident.”

  See photos below.

  Books by Fern Michaels:

  Southern Comfort

  Sins of the Flesh

  Sins of Omission

  Return to Sender

  Mr. and Miss Anonymous

  Up Close and Personal

  Fool Me Once

  Picture Perfect

  About Face

  The Future Scrolls

  Kentucky Sunrise

  Kentucky Heat

  Kentucky Rich

  Plain Jane

  Charming Lily

  What You Wish For

  The Guest List

  Listen to Your Heart

  Celebration

  Yesterday

  Finders Keepers

  Annie’s Rainbow

  Sara’s Song

  Vegas Sunrise

  Vegas Heat

  Vegas Rich

  Whitefire

  Wish List

  Dear Emily

  The Godmothers Series:

  Late Edition

  Exclusive

  The Scoop

  The Sisterhood Novels:

  Home Free

  Déjà Vu

  Cross Roads

  Game Over

  Deadly Deals

  Vanishing Act

  Razor Sharp

  Under the Radar

  Final Justice

  Collateral Damage

  Fast Track

  Hokus Pokus

  Hide and Seek

  Free Fall

  Lethal Justice

  Sweet Revenge

  The Jury

  Vendetta

  Payback

  Weekend Warriors

  Anthologies:

  Holiday Magic

  Snow Angels

  Silver Bells

  Comfort and Joy

  Sugar and Spice

  Let It Snow

  A Gift of Joy

  Five Golden Rings

  Deck the Halls

  Jingle All the Way

  FERN MICHAELS

  LATE EDITION

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Books by Fern Michaels:

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter
25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  In Loving Memory of a dear friend, Susan Manning

  Prologue

  Malibu, California

  At dusk they gathered to speak to the dead. With Sophie acting as their spiritual guide, the official leader of their weekly séances, the four women—Teresa Amelia “Toots” Loudenberry, Ida McGullicutty, Mavis Hanover, and Sophia “Sophie” Manchester, lifelong friends of more than fifty years—took their seats around the old wooden dining table left behind by the former pop star who’d lived in the beach house before Toots purchased it almost a year earlier.

  Sophie had read somewhere that once wood was charged with an unnatural entity, it acted as a conductor. When Toots remodeled the house, they’d kept the table for the sole purpose of conducting séances. Using a purple silk sheet for a tablecloth and a drinking glass as their tool for communication should a spirit decide to join them, Sophie did what she always did before they began. She said her prayer.

  “Oh, great one, bless this dump and those who inhabit it, living or dead.”

  Toots kicked her on the shin beneath the table. Sophie cast a wicked eye at her best friend, as if to say, “I’ll kick your rear end later.”

  Sophie took her bottle of holy water and spritzed it around the table. She flicked a few extra droplets in Toots’s face just to tick her off.

  She sat back down in her chair, tucking the small bottle of holy water inside her pocket. “We are here to communicate with the other side. We are friendly. We mean no harm.” Sophie said this at the beginning of every séance she conducted. Who knew what kind of evil lurked in other dimensions?