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

by Michaels, Fern

  “This is a lot to take in right now. I’m not sure of anything yet, but I would like to take some time off. LA is my home now, and I can’t just walk away from everything you and I worked so hard to build.”

  What Abby didn’t want to admit to was, she agreed with her mother. This movie-star nonsense was becoming as dull as an old nickel to her now. But could she completely walk away from it? She didn’t know. Later, when she was alone, she would truly give it some serious thought. If not forever, then at least until she had some kind of epiphany about some other profession she might want to pursue. Tabloid news was in her blood, and she didn’t know if she could give it up completely, but a leave of absence wasn’t out of the question at this point.

  “You were never a quitter, Abby. I just wanted you to think about this. It’s certainly not written in stone,” Toots said, though she had to admit she was hoping Abby would be a bit more receptive to the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to get rid of the paper, perhaps try another media outlet. Maybe Ida’s new venture would direct her on another path. And she was half owner of the bakery, though she couldn’t bake if her life depended on it. All she could do in that business was act as taste tester.

  “It’s been a long day. If you all don’t mind, I think I’d like to call it a night,” Abby said, stifling back a yawn.

  “Yes, it has, but, Abby, before you go to bed, would you mind serving as a guinea pig for me?” Ida asked out of the blue. “My new line of cosmetics, Seasons, has healing properties. I would love it if you’d apply a bit to those cuts on your face before you go to sleep.”

  “Sure, just bring it to my room. I want to take a quick shower, anyway. I still have hospital grunge that I haven’t completely removed.” What she didn’t tell them was that she had rushed through her shower at the hospital in order to race to Rag’s room.

  Abby gave her mother and Sophie a good-night hug, thanked Mavis for a meal fit for a queen, and told Goebel good night. As she went upstairs to the guest room where she usually stayed, she called over her shoulder, “Chris, don’t forget to come and tell me good night.”

  “Count on it,” he called from the kitchen, where he and Goebel were finishing off the last of the coffee.

  Upstairs, she took a shower, only this time she took her time. She’d been more uncomfortable than she’d let on. The hot water felt like heaven as it beat against her sore muscles. Having her hands tied behind her for so long had not only caused the muscles in her upper back to hurt, but had also strained the muscles in her neck. She lathered up three times, then washed her hair twice, wanting to wash away the memories, too, but she knew that was too much to ask for.

  She found a pair of her old pajamas in the drawer where she knew she’d find them. She brushed her teeth and combed the tangles from her hair. When there was nothing more to do, she crawled beneath the sheets, loving the soft feel of the high thread count against her skin. Her mom never skimped on anything, and tonight she was exceedingly grateful.

  As she was about to doze off, a light knock startled her. She sat up in bed, pulling the covers all the way to her neck. “Come in.”

  Ida entered the room, carrying several jars of cream. “I just want to rub some of this pumpkin enzyme cream on those cuts. The chemists swear by it, and I do, too. I think I’ve taken at least five years off my age since I started using my new products.” Ida sat down on the bed and opened a jar. “Here, you sit and relax, and I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

  She expertly applied the pumpkin enzyme cream to Abby’s face, smoothing an extra layer on the areas where she was swollen and bruised. She also applied a generous amount to her wrists. “I hope you’ll see a big change in the morning. Now I’ll go. Good night, dear,” Ida said and gave Abby a kiss before turning out the bedside light.

  “Night,” Abby replied, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Her last thought before falling asleep was that Chris had best hurry, or he was not getting a good-night kiss.

  Chapter 37

  A heavy fog, typical of Malibu, rolled in. In a few short hours, the sun would burn it away, and the Pacific would once again capture the attention of all those who spent their days at the beach, catching a few rays.

  As soon as Abby smelled coffee, she perked right up, then winced. She was twice as sore as she’d been yesterday, but the doctor had told her to expect this. In the guest bathroom, she found a bottle of Advil, took three, then brushed her teeth. Splashing cold water on her face, she was totally shocked when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

  “Oh my God! Ida is really onto something,” she said out loud. Leaning closer to the mirror, she carefully inspected the cuts and bruises that last night had promised to turn all shades of purple, blue, and yellowish green. Then she looked at her wrists. The marks from the plastic ties were almost completely gone. She grabbed a robe from the back of the door, not bothering to stop for a pair of shoes. In just seconds she was downstairs in the kitchen, where she could see that Mavis was busy preparing breakfast.

  “Are you the only one who cooks around here?” Abby asked as she helped herself to a cup of coffee.

  Mavis jumped.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is everyone still sleeping?” Abby looked at the clock on the stove. It was a little after six. Her mother always got up with the chickens.

  “No, your mother and Sophie are on the deck, smoking and having a cup of coffee,” Mavis said, her back to Abby as she whipped up something that looked like it might be pancake batter.

  “Well, I, for one, can’t thank you enough for that dinner last night, and I can’t wait to see what you come up with for breakfast.” Abby gave Mavis a one-armed hug.

  “Thanks, dear.” Mavis turned around to give Abby her full attention. When she saw her, she gasped and quickly placed a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Abby! Have you looked in the mirror? Those cuts and bruises, and the swelling, they’re practically gone! Quick, show this to your mother and Sophie while I go wake Ida. She’ll want to see this right away.”

  “I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw myself in the mirror. And look at my wrists. They’re almost completely healed! I believe Ida is truly onto something.”

  Abby stepped out on the deck, where Toots and Sophie were smoking up a storm like Puff, the Magic Dragon.

  “What do you think?” Abby asked her mother and the second godmother she’d seen that morning.

  The two women looked at her, their surprise evident on both their faces.

  Sophie was the first to speak. “I’ll be damned! Ida was right. That shit is a miracle worker. Come over here and let me have a closer look.”

  “Not until you both crush out those nasty-ass cigarettes.”

  Quickly, Toots and Sophie complied.

  “Now look at me. Is this a miracle or what? I have never seen anything work like this in my life. Can you imagine all the women who’d give their eyeteeth for something like this!” Abby exclaimed, conveying the excitement Ida must have felt when she came up with the concoction.

  Toots examined her daughter’s face and wrists. The difference from last night was almost miraculous. “Ida’s going to shit herself!” Toots exclaimed excitedly.

  “Mother! Do you always have to be so graphic? You’re as bad as Sophie. No offense, Soph.”

  “Oh, none taken, Abby. When you get to be our age, the little things don’t matter. Like saying ‘shit’ if you have a mouthful.” Sophie grinned.

  “So is this the stuff Ida’s going to market on The Home Shopping Club? Because if it is, she’d better have vaults ready, because sales are going to be through the roof. She needs models, to show a before and after,” Abby said.

  “Oh, that’s already taken care of. We’re supposed to start this week, but with all the hoopla, Ida made arrangements to stall the network. You know, I used this the other day, and I swear the fine lines around my eyes were less than half, but I was almost afraid to mention anything to Ida for fear she’d accuse me of being as
vain as she is. But now, damn, she really is onto something,” Toots said to Abby.

  Sophie chimed right in. “I tried it once, and I saw a difference, too. As usual, if Ida does anything extraordinary, she wants the world to know about it. This time, though, I think she’s really hit pay dirt. Damn her. Why didn’t I come up with this?”

  The sliding glass door opened. Mavis brought a barely awake Ida out to the deck to see the results of her new product.

  “Couldn’t this wait? I didn’t get to sleep until two in the morning. Those kids on the beach partied all night,” Ida complained. “Has anyone bothered to make me a cup of coffee?” she whined.

  “You’re such an old bitch, Ida. I swear, if you weren’t one of Abby’s godmothers, I’d smack your teeth right down your throat, and they’d come marching out your ass to the tune of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’ ”

  Coffee spewed from Toots’s mouth when she heard Sophie’s latest early morning greeting. Poor Ida, but she laughed, anyway.

  “Mavis, what is it you wanted me to see?” Ida asked, turning up her nose and ignoring Sophie’s insult. She’d gotten so used to them by now, they had no effect on her.

  “Look!” Mavis whirled Abby around so that Ida could see her face and arms.

  Ida stared at her goddaughter, her eyes becoming as round as saucers. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The bruises, the scratches, and the swelling were all but gone. Had she not seen it with her own two eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it. While she knew the product was much better than some of the cosmetic lines currently being touted as the miracle cure for wrinkles, her line of creams could truly claim to be the next best thing to a miracle.

  “I knew this was good, but this is even better than I’d expected. I can’t believe it. Abby, you cannot tell this to a living soul. We need to . . . I don’t know what we need to do, but this is big,” Ida babbled, stunned at the results.

  “You do have a patent on this stuff?” Abby asked.

  “Yes, I do. I was careful during the developmental stages to keep some of the contents a secret. I own full rights to the product. I’m simply amazed at how fast this has worked on you. You’re sure you didn’t put anything else on your face?” Ida questioned Abby.

  “Nope, I didn’t even use a cleansing cream when I was in the shower, because I was afraid that it would burn,” Abby said.

  “When Chris gets up, you might want to talk to him about starting a corporation,” Abby said. “Then, if some dumb ass tries to eat the stuff or gets it in an eye that burned or something else goes wrong, the corporation would be liable, and not you personally. Chris would know more about the legal stuff. There is someone threatening to sue the paper on a daily basis. Which reminds me, I need to get Chester home and get to my computer and check on the troops.” Abby still wanted a break, but before she took the final steps, she had to make sure Josh could run the show.

  Toots rolled her eyes; it had been a little more than two days since Abby was abducted in the basement of The Informer, and she was already going back to editor-in-chief mode.

  “Toots, your cell phone is ringing. You want me to answer it?” Mavis asked.

  “Look at the caller ID and see who it is. I’m not up for any of those automated solicitation calls yet.”

  Mavis found Toots’s cell phone on the kitchen counter. She stepped back through the sliding glass door with the phone and gave it to Toots.

  Seeing that it was Bernice, Toots teased, “What do you want, you old hag?” She loved Bernice like a sister and delighted in saying ornery things to her whenever she could. Bernice acted like it pissed her off, but Toots knew better.

  “What? A hurricane?” Toots’s words caused Abby, Sophie, Mavis, and Ida to stop dead in their tracks. “I haven’t paid any attention to the news, Bernice. With Abby being abducted, watching Jim Cantore on the Weather Channel hasn’t been my top priority. Yes, I’ll check the news and call you back as soon as I’ve made a decision.” Toots hit the END button on her phone. Another issue that was beyond her control to deal with.

  “Bernice says there is a hurricane headed directly toward Charleston,” Toots explained. “She thinks I need to get back there ASAP and get the hatches battened down. I wonder why Phil didn’t call.”

  “Shit fire and save the matches! Surely you’re not going home when there is a hurricane headed there. That’s the last place I want to be,” Sophie singsonged.

  “I’ll go,” Mavis offered. “That’s your home, and sort of ours, too. You should be ashamed of yourself, Sophie.”

  “What about the cream? Should I go back to Charleston and do the shooting as we’d planned?” Ida asked.

  Toots threw her arms in the air. “I don’t know about your makeup right now, but I doubt The Home Shopping Club is going to renege on your contract. Remember, you just postponed it. You didn’t cancel it. With a hurricane heading that way, I don’t think anyone is going to be worried about their wrinkles. But all bull aside, you are onto something, Ida. You have my full support. Just not now. I need to get back to Charleston. Bernice and Jamie can’t handle this by themselves, and Pete is retired now, so he won’t be there to help. Looks like it’s up to me. I’m going to call my pilot pals and see if they’re willing to fly into an approaching hurricane.”

  “Mom, if you really need me, I can go, but I think I need to take care of a few details at the paper before I take a leave of absence, that is, if I decide to.” Abby didn’t want to go to Charleston right away but would if her mother needed her. She had come through for her, had actually saved her life. “Just say the word, and I’m there.”

  “No, I’d rather you stay here. Now that Rag is under lock and key, I think you’re safe enough, but I don’t want you overdoing it, Abby. That’s both your mother and the CEO of LAT Enterprise speaking. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mother. Yes, boss.”

  Always serious in a crisis, Toots picked up her phone and called the pilot she’d used on several occasions. When she explained her situation, he told her he would meet her at LAX in three hours. “Perfect, and thanks.”

  “We have three hours to get to the airport,” Toots said. “Whoever is going back to Charleston best get a move on.”

  An hour later, they were ready to go. Abby and Chris agreed to stay at the beach house until further notice. The commute to The Informer would be a bit of a hassle, but Abby and Chris assured Toots they could handle it.

  Chapter 38

  Bernice and Jamie spent the next two hours at Publix, purchasing extras. Their list was lengthy. Batteries, candles, and water topped the list. From there, Bernice wiped out the store’s entire supply of canned tuna, soup, and Spam. There was no bread at home, but she and Jamie planned to make a quick stop at The Sweetest Things on their way home. They’d take all the goodies, batten down the hatches there as much as they could, then head back to the house, where Wade and Robert had promised to help them unload the car, so Jamie could return to the airport to pick up Toots and the others.

  By the time Toots was due to arrive, the forecasters had predicted that Charleston would begin to feel the effects of the outer bands. They’d been tuned to the Weather Channel. When they saw that Jim Cantore was stationed at Patriots Point in Charleston Harbor, aboard the USS Yorktown, they knew they were in trouble. The ship had survived hurricanes in the past, so odds were it would survive this one. Or at least they hoped it would.

  Jamie made fast work of grabbing all the baked goods at the bakery, thankful that Lucy, her assistant, had baked a few loaves of bread for her own personal use. Lucy had left some behind, and now Jamie was glad that she had, because the shelves at Publix were wiped out. Too late to board up the front windows, Jamie could only hope that whatever happened, the insurance would take care of their losses. She raced back to the Range Rover, where Bernice waited with the side door opened.

  “Dang, Jamie, what all did you bring? That looks like enough baked goods to feed a small country,” Bernice said as she h
elped to arrange the items in the backseat.

  “No point in leaving it behind. Remember, we don’t know how long we’ll be without access to food. I know that Toots has generators, but we can’t eat power,” Jamie teased. “But we can eat in the dark if we have to.” She made fast work of packing the SUV, then climbed again into the passenger seat. By the time they dropped off all the food, she would have just enough time to get to the airport. Toots had called right before leaving LAX, assuring her it was safe to fly, and since they were on a private aircraft, they wouldn’t be going through security, where they could be delayed for who knew how long.

  Jamie maneuvered the Range Rover down South Battery, took a left on East Battery, passing the old pastel-colored homes known as Rainbow Row. Most of the homes were over a hundred years old; they’d stood guard over Charleston Harbor since before the Civil War, or the War of Northern Aggression, as the locals liked to call it. Jamie wondered what kind of defense the old homes would put up against hurricane-force winds and the surging water. The area had survived in the past, and she could only hope the old places were still up for the battle.

  Thirty minutes later, Wade and Robert helped Bernice put away the groceries.

  “I’ll be back in no time,” Jamie said. “Just stay inside, and if the cell phone rings, make sure to answer it.”

  Though she knew the three aging adults were quite capable of taking care of themselves, and the house, it felt good to be useful and needed. Since Toots had found her failing bakery and taken her in, her life had been as close to perfect as she’d ever dreamed. She liked the feeling of being part of one big happy family. Being an only child raised by her grandmother, Jamie thanked heaven above every day that there were good people like Toots and the godmothers. They were all her fairy godmothers, and she told them this as often as she could without sounding too mushy.

  Jamie arrived at South Aviation Avenue, parking the Range Rover at Landmark Aviation, where Toots’s private plane was due to arrive any minute. Inside, it looked like a modern office instead of an airport terminal. Floor-to-ceiling windows faced the runway. Television sets were tuned to the Weather Channel. Several pilots were seated in the semicircle of plush leather chairs, glued to the television.