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

by Michaels, Fern

  “Hurting Mavis’s feelings,” Ida offered up.

  “Why would Toots want to hurt Mavis’s feelings? Why would anyone want to hurt her feelings? She’s the most honest, kind, and loving woman I know.” Sophie shot Ida a dirty look.

  “I simply commented on Ida’s dress. She looks like a movie star ready to make her first appearance of the day before a camera,” Toots explained to Sophie.

  Sophie looked at Ida and rolled her dark brown eyes up at the ceiling. “Maybe from a silent movie.”

  Toots couldn’t help herself, she burst out laughing. Sophie joined her. Ida stuck her nose up in the air.

  “You have no class, Sophie Manchester,” Ida stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “I know. I gave it all to you, which is why you have so much,” Sophie teased. “Speaking of class, who’s going with me to pick up Goebel?”

  “I suppose I could accompany you,” Ida said. “I should be finished with my hair appointment. He arrives around one o’clock this afternoon?”

  Toots saw the look on Sophie’s face. Rather than giving Sophie a chance to go ballistic at Ida’s “generous offer,” Toots kicked Sophie under the table just in time to prevent her from doing just that. Sophie caught her eye, whereupon Toots winked and gave a slight nod.

  “I think that’s very generous of Ida, Sophie. As a matter of fact, I think we should all go with you to the airport. You might get lost.”

  Mavis and Coco chose that precise moment to enter the kitchen. The little Chihuahua danced from one foot to the other, then raced through the doggie door and was back within a matter of minutes. “She’s such a good girl,” Mavis said, reaching down to stroke the little brown ball of fur. She filled Coco’s dog bowl with sliced turkey breast and her water bowl with natural spring water. Since Mavis had gone on a health kick, she’d insisted that Coco follow suit. The dog certainly didn’t seem to have any problems with her new diet.

  Mavis poured herself a cup of coffee, then started a second pot. It was a house rule that whoever drank the last cup had to start a new pot. Among the four of them, they often went through five or six pots a day.

  As soon as Mavis sat down, Coco jumped onto her lap and peered over the table, her miniature head tilted up as though she were snubbing them. Toots was convinced the dog had been royalty in another life.

  “Sophie, you need to read for Coco,” Toots said.

  They all laughed.

  “I’ve never tried to contact an animal.” Sophie took a slurp of her coffee. “Do you realize how insane that sounds? If anyone were to hear our conversations, we would all be committed.”

  When the second pot of coffee was ready, Toots refilled their cups, then sat back down, her look and tone serious. “I’ve been trying to put this off, but I’m afraid I can’t any longer.” Grabbing the remote control in the center of the table, she aimed it at the small television set on the countertop across from them. “I want to see if there’s any more news on that missing girl.” She didn’t add, and anything about Chris. She hadn’t heard from Abby yet that morning, not that she expected to less than four hours since she last spoke to her daughter, so she was going to go with the “no news is good news” attitude until she heard otherwise.

  She flipped to a local station. They all focused their attention on the female newscaster.

  “It has been four days since Laura Leigh was reported missing by her agent, Leo Goldenberg. The actress was featured in the teen hit Bloody Hollow. Sources say she is being considered for the leading role in part two, as of yet unnamed. She was last seen leaving Hot Wired, a local nightclub frequented by Hollywood’s hottest stars, with Christopher Clay, a popular Los Angeles entertainment attorney. Laura Leigh is five-three, 115 pounds. The much-adored starlet has blue eyes and blond hair.”

  A picture of Laura Leigh filled the screen—a still shot from Bloody Hollow. Her face was powder white, her eyes gold, and her hair a deep shade of burgundy. Another image filled the screen, this one a more accurate portrayal of what the actress looked like out of makeup. Her long blond hair was styled in loose curls. She was smiling at the camera, her bright blue eyes shiny and clear.

  “Miss Leigh’s vehicle, a 2011 Barcelona Red Metallic Toyota Prius, license plate IMASTAR, has not been located. A spokesperson for the Los Angeles County Police Department said a search warrant for the vehicle was issued yesterday. Her apartment in Los Angeles was searched. The spokesperson reported there were no signs of a struggle, and it did not appear as if Miss Leigh had taken any belongings from her apartment. Police are searching for Christopher Clay, who was the last person seen with Miss Leigh. Mr. Clay is wanted for questioning. He is not considered a person of interest at this time.”

  A photo of Chris, the same one used when he was voted one of LA’s top ten bachelors, filled the screen. He was smiling, his sandy hair windblown and his eyes sparkling.

  “A one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward is being offered for information leading to the actress’s safe return.”

  Toots turned the television off. No one said a word. Grabbing her cigarettes, she went outside to the deck. Sophie followed her. Each sat in her own deck chair and lit up.

  The breeze from the ocean was still cool, the air quiet and gentle. Hues of violet, pale pink, and burnt orange rose from the aquamarine water. Seagulls cawed in the early-morning air. Lights from a variety of water vessels flashed in the distance. Waves crashed on the oyster-colored sand, white and frothy like a French latte.

  Toots gazed out at the beach, her thoughts reflecting the fright she felt.

  “You know Chris had nothing to do with that girl’s disappearance,” Sophie said gently.

  Toots nodded and couldn’t help it when a single tear rolled down her cheek. “I know, but I’m afraid, Soph. What if something terrible really has happened to that poor girl? What if Chris is accused of ... of harming her? I’ve dealt with a lot of problems in my life, but nothing like this. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve tried his cell phone, his house, and, like Abby, I’ve sent a dozen e-mails. Chris always answers me, almost instantly. You know that.”

  Sophie placed her hand on Toots’s. “There is a perfectly logical explanation for this; I can feel it in my gut. That probably doesn’t help now, but you know I’m rarely wrong, or at least my gut isn’t.”

  Toots felt a bit encouraged. Sophie was right. Her gut was almost one hundred percent accurate. Toots had witnessed it many times. “Do you think there is anything you can do, you know, spirit-wise, to help locate this Laura Leigh?”

  “I can certainly try.”

  “Then let’s do it, right now.” Toots jumped off the deck chair. “Before Ida has to leave. She’s going to get her hair done at some high-class hair salon in Beverly Hills. She has to be there at nine o’clock.”

  “I wondered why she was all gussied up so early. I thought maybe the FedEx guy was making an early delivery. Ida’s such a slut.” Sophie crushed her cigarette out in the seashell ashtray.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but don’t say I didn’t warn you; I think Ida’s set her eyes on Goebel. Now that he’s lost all that weight, he’s a good-looking man. Not that he wasn’t handsome before. She hasn’t been with a man since Patel, at least not that I’m aware of.”

  Sophie lit another cigarette and passed it to Toots, then lit one for herself. “Goebel isn’t interested in her, trust me. She’s too prissy for him. I’m not worried, okay?” She blew smoke out in one big puff.

  “Remember, Ida likes a challenge. She is beautiful”—Toots turned to her friend—“but not nearly as beautiful as you.”

  “Oh, stop with the sappy shit. I know Ida’s easy on the eyes. I’m fine with that. Hell, we’re all easy on the eyes, especially for seniors.”

  They laughed at Sophie’s conceit.

  “Now, before we go back inside, I have something to tell you.” Toots whispered just in case. “I am going to get even with Ida. I have her new hairdresser’s phone number.”

  When Toots told Sophi
e of her plan they giggled just like they had in high school. As soon as they thought their laughter was under control, they would look at one another and start all over again.

  Poor Ida, Toots thought. She is in deep shit.

  Chapter 7

  Abby jerked upright, momentarily disoriented. Seeing that she was at home in her living room, safe and sound, she leaned back, remembering the events from last night. When she had returned from Chris’s, she’d been too tired to bother changing into her pajamas and crawling beneath the sheets. She’d lain down on the sofa, with Chester at her feet, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the cushion.

  Forcing herself into a sitting position, she cringed at the way she felt. Her neck was stiff, and her mouth was as dry as the Sahara during a drought. Chester, who had been disturbed by her movement, slowly hopped off the couch and headed for the back door. She unlocked the door and waited while Chester watered the lawn. When he finished, she whistled, and, now fully awake, he came running. “No squirrel watching today, Bud. We’ve got work to do.”

  In the kitchen, Abby prepared her morning pot of coffee, then filled Chester’s dish with kibble. She rinsed his water dish, refilled it with tap water, and said, “I’ll be right back.” Then she grabbed her cell phone from the coffee table and punched in Chris’s cell number. When it went straight to voice mail, she clicked off, as there was no point in leaving yet another message. There was no point in calling his house, either. She booted up her laptop, hoping against hope that he had sent her an e-mail. She scanned through the long list of e-mails, searching for his name, and again found nothing.

  Knowing there wasn’t anything she could do just then, Abby placed a quick call to The Informer to tell Josh she would be there later in the morning. She went back into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, then headed for the blessed relief of a shower.

  Stripping off her grimy clothes, she turned the water on and pulled the knob up for the shower. It took a couple minutes for the water to get hot enough, something she kept promising herself she was going to remedy later, but for now it was the least of her worries. Squirting grapefruit-scented body wash onto a mesh sponge, she quickly scrubbed, gave her hair a ten-second wash and rinse, then stepped onto the bath mat.

  Wrapping a huge bath sheet around her and a towel around her head, she wiped steam from the mirror with her hand. She brushed her teeth, savoring the fresh feeling. After smearing a light moisturizer on her face, she attacked her tangled hair.

  In her bedroom, she grabbed a pair of Levi’s and a black turtleneck T-shirt. She dressed quickly, then returned to the kitchen. Looking at her answering machine, she saw the red light flashing. Crossing her fingers and hoping for the best, she hit the PLAY button. Two calls from her mother. Poor Mom, Abby thought as she fast-forwarded through her messages. A call from Angelina, wanting to know next week’s assignment. She flashed through that, too. The last message was from a solicitor trying to sell her an ownership of a time-share unit in Florida. Still nothing from Chris.

  Damn. She was getting more worried by the hour. It was way out of character for him. She looked at the clock and quickly punched in her mother’s cell number.

  When there was no answer, she tried calling the beach house. When she still didn’t get an answer, she tried Sophie’s cell phone. No answer. She tried Ida’s and Mavis’s numbers, and they didn’t answer either. Something was going on, big-time.

  “Chester,” Abby called. “Let’s go.” She yanked her purse off the coffee table, then went back into the kitchen to turn off the coffeemaker and lock the back door. Grabbing her laptop, she didn’t bother putting it inside the case. In less than a minute, she was squealing out of her driveway. Early morning and neighbors be damned.

  The morning traffic in Los Angeles was horrific, more so than normal. Waiting for traffic to move, she searched for a radio station that offered news. When she located KABC, the sister station of her favorite local television station, she cranked up the volume.

  “Miss Leigh’s vehicle, a 2011 Barcelona Red Metallic Toyota Prius, license plate IMASTAR, has not been located. A spokesperson for the Los Angeles County Police Department said a search warrant for the vehicle was issued yesterday. Her apartment in Los Angeles was searched. The spokesperson reported there were no signs of a struggle, and it did not appear as if Miss Leigh had taken any belongings from her apartment. Police are searching for Christopher Clay, who was last seen with Miss Leigh. Mr. Clay is wanted for questioning. He is not considered a person of interest at this time.”

  Abby almost lost control of the car. A person of interest? She hated that terminology because she knew in the public’s mind that meant “suspect.” Knowing there was nothing she could do except focus her attention on the road, she flipped to another radio station, one that played classical music. She turned up the volume, then rolled down the driver’s side and passenger windows. Chester stuck his head out the window, his nose twitching in delight.

  Fearing something horrible had happened to her mother and godmothers, Abby drove eight miles over the speed limit, crossing her fingers that the California Highway Patrol wasn’t shooting their radar gun along that particular strip of the Pacific Coast Highway. Abby paid no attention to the scenic drive. When she had first moved to Los Angeles, she couldn’t get enough of the beach, but the novelty had quickly worn off. She was lucky if she made it to her mother’s beach house once a week.

  Her heart slowed a bit when she reached the turnoff to Malibu. It was so unlike her mother and the three Gs not to answer their phones. Abby was always in contact with them and knew for a fact they never went anywhere without their cell phones, especially her mother. So why weren’t they answering? She swerved to the right, making the final turn. In three minutes flat, she pulled into Toots’s driveway and flew out of the MINI Cooper, with Chester racing ahead of her. Knowing that Coco was on the other side of the door, Chester jumped on his back legs, his paws scratching at the door. “Down boy,” Abby whispered. She wasn’t sure what was going on behind the door, but knew enough to know she didn’t want to warn anyone of her presence. She fumbled with her key ring searching for the house key, and when she finally located it, she quietly inserted the key into the lock. Turning the knob, she slowly pushed the large door inward, preparing herself for what, she didn’t know, but her senses were on high alert.

  Knowing how all four women always gathered around the kitchen table, she went there first. Seeing four cups, napkins, and the sugar bowl and creamer, Abby knew they couldn’t be far away. She peered out to the deck, but there was no sign of them there. It was still early, just after eight o’clock, too early for the four of them to be out and about. Chester’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor, so if anyone was in the house and heard the sounds, Abby figured they would’ve made their presence known already. From her vantage point in the kitchen, she was able to see that the door to the dining room, the room reserved for Sophie’s séances, was closed. She headed over to the door and placed her ear against the wood. She heard Sophie asking the spirit world to guide her. Abby smiled, relieved and thinking she should have known. Where else would they be at this time of morning without their cell phones?

  Having solved that mystery, she went back to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. She knew their habits, and hadn’t had nearly enough caffeine herself. Chester continued to hang out by the door, knowing Coco was inside, most likely sitting on Mavis’s lap.

  Abby removed the cups from the table and replaced them with clean ones. She refilled the creamer and the sugar bowl. Her stomach growled even though she’d had bacon and eggs late last night. In the fridge, she saw the usual platter of Mavis’s fresh fruit and helped herself. When the coffee finished perking, she poured herself a cup and sat down at the table to drink it in peace. Since she knew better than to interrupt the séance, she made herself comfortable and waited. In the meantime, she used her mother’s house phone and tried to call Chris again. Still no answer. Abby was beginning to thi
nk he was spending the week with some unknown female. If he was, she was never going to speak to him again. And if he wasn’t? That simply didn’t bear thinking about.

  In the dining room, Sophie tried every trick she knew and was unable to make contact with any spirit, good or bad. She even tried her self-induced trance, and still nothing worked.

  “I give up,” she finally said. “Apparently my stars aren’t properly aligned, or the moon isn’t in the seventh house. We can try later; maybe Goebel will join us.”

  Mavis stood up, one arm clutching Coco, and walked around the room, blowing out the candles. Toots put the rocks glass in the box on the floor. Ida watched.

  At that moment, Coco started squirming, trying to jump out of Mavis’s arms. “Coco, settle down,” Mavis soothed. “I don’t know what is wrong with her.”

  “Listen,” Toots said, leaning against the heavy door.

  They gathered at the door, and the little Chihuahua went crazy.

  Toots opened the door. Chester stood there in all his glory, his bushy tail wagging ninety miles a minute. Coco practically sprang out of Mavis’s arms. Stepping out of the room, Toots bypassed the two lovebirds.

  “Abby Simpson, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “Trust me, I tried. I called the house and all of your cell phones. I was afraid something had happened. Isn’t it a bit early for a séance? I thought you reserved those for evenings only.”

  Sophie came over to the table and kissed Abby’s cheek. “I can do this anytime. It’s the spirits that seem to be so damned finicky today.”

  Abby took a bite out of a strawberry. “Does this early-morning session have anything to do with Chris?”

  Toots poured a fresh cup of coffee for herself, and sat next to Abby. “I take it you haven’t heard from him either. I’ve tried his cell number and sent dozens of e-mails. I’m really starting to get worried.”

  “I know. I haven’t heard a single word. It’s just not like Chris to do this. Loans out his condo for a week, doesn’t mention a thing, then boom, he’s missing, along with one of his clients. I’ve got a reporter staking out Laura’s apartment, and tonight I’ll go back to Hot Wired and The Buzz, see what I can learn.”