Jamie walked over to the reception desk and spoke to a young woman dressed in a navy skirt with a matching jacket. Her blond hair was pulled up tightly in a bun, and Jamie thought she looked very professional.
“Excuse me. I’m here to pick up Ms. Loudenberry. Is there somewhere I can check their arrival time?” Jamie asked. She had never been to a private airport and didn’t know what the protocol was for incoming flights.
The young woman smiled and said, “Hang on, and I’ll check FlightAware. They track all IFR flights.” She ran her fingers across the keyboard. “It says here they’re less than ten minutes from landing. From the looks of it, they don’t have a lot of time to spare, as the winds are gusting twenty to thirty knots already.”
“Thanks,” Jamie said to the young woman.
“Have a seat over there. We have complimentary coffee and soda if you’d like. I can get you something while you wait.”
No wonder Toots preferred flying privately. The treatment at this aviation center was first class. “No thanks,” Jamie said, then walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, where she stood next to a handsome pilot, who smiled when he saw her straining to peer at the jet that had just touched down on the runway.
“Are you here to pick up a friend?” he inquired as he scoped her out.
Blushing at his admiring glance, Jamie said, “Yes, I’m here to pick up my business partner and friend. She’s been in Los Angeles, and I need to help her prepare for the hurricane. Her house is a historic landmark, so we decided she’d be better off here.” She couldn’t believe she offered up so much personal information to a complete stranger, but she liked the looks of him as much as he seemed to like hers.
“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your phone number? I work for Flexjet, and Charleston is my home base. I spend a lot of my time flying millionaires around the world, and I seldom get the chance to talk to a beautiful woman.”
Jamie was intrigued, but not enough to give a total stranger her phone number. “I’ll tell you what, the next time you’re in town, go to The Sweetest Things Bakery, and ask for Jamie. I’m the owner. I’ll serve you one of the best pralines in the South, on the house.”
He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “If you change your mind, I’m Mike. I’m here until Saturday. Then it’s off to Switzerland.”
Jamie took the card, totally blown away. Never in a million years had she thought she’d meet a man, let alone a really good-looking man, when she headed out to the airport. But, you never knew. She smiled at Mike. “I’ll keep your card.”
He watched the plane taxi up to the window. “Well, Jamie, it appears as though your business partner has arrived. It was nice.” With that, he turned and walked down a long hall that led to a pilots’ lounge, according to the sign. Jamie was giddy.
Toots, Sophie, Goebel, Mavis, and Ida walked down the small set of stairs that unfolded onto a red carpet that had been placed there by a member of the staff. Again, Jamie was impressed. Toots stopped, spoke a few words to the pilot and copilot, then handed them what appeared to be a wad of cash. Knowing Toots, her tip was more than their weekly pay.
The automatic doors opened. Toots was the first inside. Jamie hurried to greet her.
“I’m glad you’re back.” She gave her a quick hug. “I have to talk to you about something. It’s sort of private.”
“Then follow me to the restroom,” Toots said.
Jamie handed the keys to Goebel. “I’m parked right in front of the exit. If you want, you can load up while we’re in the ladies’ room.”
Sophie waved to Jamie, then stepped outside to smoke. Ida and Mavis followed Goebel out to the car. They could talk on the ride home. Jamie didn’t want to embarrass Toots in front of her friends, just in case the news she was about to tell her ticked her off, or whatever.
In the ladies’ room, Toots quickly took care of things, then said to Jamie, “Is Bernice okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. I didn’t mean to scare you, but while you were gone, we learned that the Patterson place had been sold. I don’t know why the sign was still up before you left. Anyway, the new owners moved in the day after you left.”
“Don’t tell me this has something to do with Bernice’s near-death experience?” Toots said.
“No, not that. But it’s a long story. The short version is this. The new owners are two single men, one about Bernice’s age, and I’m guessing that the other . . . By the way, did I mention they were brothers? Anyway, the other is about your age. Wade came over the afternoon they arrived, to use the phone. Their power was off. Anyway, Bernice told them she owned the house, and I was her granddaughter, and you were her sister. In case they’re still there when we arrive, I just thought I should give you a heads-up.”
Toots had expected anything but this, but the idea of Bernice playing lady of the manor presented numerous possibilities, and Toots was going to play it to the max.
“Thanks for telling me. I won’t blow her cover, but just between the two of us, I plan to use this against her. In a good way. Now, let’s go home, so I can meet my sister Bernice’s new neighbors.”
Chapter 39
Toots entered her house, with her entourage following closely at her heels. Since they had no luggage to carry in, she went to the kitchen, where she knew most of the action would be taking place. If you could call putting groceries away action. As soon as Toots spied Bernice instructing an older man who had to be Robert where to place a bag of canned goods and on which shelf, she went straight for the jugular, letting her know right off there was nothing to worry about.
“Hey, sis, how is it going? I came as quickly as I could, knowing you would need as many hands as possible to prepare your house. So, tell me, who is this fine-looking man?” Toots smiled and winked at Bernice.
In a shaky voice, Bernice said, “This is Robert, and his brother, Wade, is . . . somewhere around here. They bought the Patterson house.”
“Hello, Robert. I’m Toots, Bernice’s younger sister. Did Bernice tell you about her near-death experience? She was allowed to live in order to make sure nothing sinister happens over there. You two aren’t serial killers or wanted by the police or anything, are you?” Toots asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Girls,” Toots called out as loud as she could, “come in the kitchen. There is someone Bernice wants you to meet.” Again, Toots winked at Bernice.
Robert had resumed stacking cans of tuna in the pantry. Wade had yet to make an appearance.
Before anyone else could catch her, Bernice quickly gave Toots the finger. Toots returned fire with both hands.
“How is Abby?” Bernice asked, apparently dying to change the subject.
This changed the tone of their conversation to a much more serious note. “Considering what she went through, she’s doing remarkably well. She was going back to the paper today. I think she might take a leave of absence and come to Charleston for a visit. Would you mind if she stayed here for a while? I promise she won’t be any trouble.” Toots couldn’t help herself.
Sophie chose that moment to make her grand entrance. “Did you just ask Bernice if Abby could stay here?” Her tone puzzled, she went on, “Because if you did, then I know Bernice has fallen into an extreme case of dementia since we left two days ago.” Sophie saw the older man in the pantry. “Who’s that?” Sophie blurted, always a picture of decorum.
Bernice looked like she wanted to strangle Sophie. “This is Robert.”
The older man stepped out of the pantry and held his hand out to Sophie. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, then went back to stacking his cans.
“WTF is going on here, Toots?”
“Bernice has invited the new neighbors over to help prepare her house for the hurricane, and being her little sister, well, I came home as soon as she called,” Toots said and winked at Sophie, who caught on immediately.
Toots spoke to Bernice, her tone serious. “Shouldn’t we close the shutters now? I hear thi
s hurricane is a monster. I would have thought closing the shutters would be one of the first things you’d want us to do. Goebel is here, so he can check my, I mean your, generator in the basement. Unless Robert has done that already.”
The words were no sooner out of Toots’s mouth when a man came upstairs from the basement. “All seems to be in order,” he said as he wiped his hands on a rag. “You must be Bernice’s sister. I’m Wade Powell. That old guy in there is my older brother, in case you haven’t met.”
“We’ve met, thanks. Bernice didn’t tell me you were so handsome, but then again, my big sister always was one for keeping the cute guys for herself.”
Toots glanced across the room. Bernice’s face was the color of the red cabinets in the kitchen. Mavis appeared out of nowhere, and when she saw Wade, she stood as still as a statue. God, things were happening too fast for Toots, and normally she was one for change.
“Mavis, this is Wade. He and his brother, Robert, who is obsessed with canned goods, bought the house next door.”
Wade wiped his hand on his slacks, then held it out to Mavis. “I don’t believe I’ve seen such beauty since . . . ever.”
Mavis took his hand in her own, gazing into his eyes like a lovesick teenager.
And the shit just kept right on coming, Toots thought as she observed the two. Odd, though. They all seemed to be pairing off with new men. Maybe this was the reason Bernice had been given a second chance, Toots thought, if you believed in her near-death experience. Maybe it was in the cards that Bernice wasn’t going to leave this world without one last roll in the hay, one last chance with a real man. The image brought a huge grin to her face.
Sophie and Bernice watched the couple, too. They didn’t say anything for a few more seconds; then Mavis yanked her hand away as though she’d just touched fire.
“It’s . . . uh, a pleasure to meet you, Wade. I dress dead people.”
“Mavis! Holy shit, you’re gonna scare the guy off before he has a chance to ask you to his place!” Sophie said, giggling.
“Isn’t that a coincidence? I owned a chain of funeral parlors before I retired,” Wade said, his eyes all aglitter.
“Have you heard of Good Mourning?” Mavis asked, excitement causing her cheeks to color.
“Yes, I have. I think it’s a wonderful line of clothing. I always said it was such a waste to buy something to wear that a dead person would never see, anyway. Why not buy something you can wear again and again? Whoever thought of this is a true genius.”
Mavis’s face was so red, Toots feared she was about to suffer a stroke.
“You’ve really heard of it?” Mavis asked again, apparently needing confirmation.
“Sure. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’m the person who came up with that idea. And also, I’ve—”
“You’re the lady who designed those half clothes for dressing the dead, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, that, too,” Mavis replied.
“I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven,” Wade Powell said.
Sophie being Sophie offered her two cents’ worth, even though it was unasked. “Mr. Powell, you will find we all share many unique talents. Right, Toots?”
Wondering how in the hell she’d get out of this mess of lies, Toots replied, “Yes, and after we know you a little bit better, we’ll share those talents with you. Until then, we all need to do what needs to be done before this hurricane hits. Then, when we’re finished with our preparations, we’re going to have one of the best hurricane parties to ever hit Charleston,” Toots announced. She thought about calling Phil but decided to wait.
At least for an hour.
Chapter 40
Thankful her abduction had yet to make the news, Abby returned to The Informer early that afternoon, with Chester at her heels. No way would she allow him out of her sight now. He’d saved her life, and she owed the big lug a gigantic steak dinner at least once a week.
Outside the door to her office, Abby was greeted by Dave Thompson and the rest of the security staff.
“It’s good to see you, Miss Simpson. I want to apologize for—”
“There’s no need. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’d been in that basement a hundred times, so you’re not the only one to mistake the wooden door for a storage closet.” Abby watched the other members of the security staff. Unsure if they knew all the details, she decided to assume they did, but she wanted to make it clear that it wasn’t to be discussed among them or the newspaper staffers. Before she had a chance to explain her decision, Dave spoke.
“It’s being closed up today. Ms. Loudenberry made me promise to do it,” Dave said.
“Then let’s end this now. Let’s get to work. I’ve got a paper to run,” Abby said, suddenly anxious to be anywhere but there.
Dave and the others returned to their duties, while Abby had to force herself to open the door to her office. As she placed her hand on the knob, her hands began to shake. All of a sudden, she felt hot, as though she had a fever. Her throat became so dry, she found it difficult to swallow. Chester pushed on her hand with his muzzle, forcing her to open the door. As she stepped inside, a fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced cloaked her. She took a deep breath. This was worse than when she’d been tied to that chair in the closet.
Sure that she was having a panic attack, Abby sat down in Chester’s blue chair. Her heart raced at such a rapid pace, she just knew it was going to pound a hole in her chest. Chester walked over to where she sat, and again, with his muzzle, he nudged her hand. For a second, Abby forgot about herself and realized that Chester was trying to get her attention. Maybe he was trying to distract her?
Abby took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, some of the fear dissipating as she exhaled. Taking another breath, she repeated the process. Her heart rate slowed a bit, and she felt more like herself, though her nerves were taut as a drum, as though something were about to happen, and she should be on high alert. Before she allowed her newfound fear to completely take over her body, she got up, walked across the office, and flipped the light on. Much better.
Next, she went to her desk and flipped the single switch that powered all the computers and television sets in her office. At last the room was filled with the hissing and buzzing of the electronics and the low drone of voices coming from the TVs.
She dropped down into her ergonomic chair, placed her hands on her keyboard, and was preparing to check her e-mail when she froze again. Something was wrong with her. Maybe she was suffering from the aftereffects of her kidnapping or post-traumatic stress. Whatever it was, she did not like it. Shaky, she got to her feet and, without a second thought, ran out of her office, Chester at her side.
Upstairs in the newsroom, all seemed normal, but Abby’s vision blurred, making the images appear distorted and blurry. Chester nudged her hand again, and she sat down on one of the chairs reserved for visitors. Before she could stop herself, she took her cell phone from her pocket and hit speed dial.
“Chris, it’s me. I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Abby said, her voice not sounding like her own.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“The paper. I have to leave, now.” Abby jammed her phone in her pocket, leaving the newsroom through the employee exit. As soon as she was out of the office and in the parking lot, she took several deep breaths, and the world seemed to right itself a bit. Her cell phone rang.
Chris, she saw on the caller ID and answered.
Concerned, he asked, “Abby, are you all right?”
“Yes, no. I’m not sure,” she answered, her voice still shaky.
“Stay put. I’m on my way. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”
Abby nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes, I’ll . . . I’m going to sit in my car.” She felt for her car keys and didn’t find them. That was when she remembered she’d left her purse in her office. “No, I can’t do this!” she said, more to herself than to Chri
s.
“Abby, you’re starting to scare me. Are you in your car?”
“No, I’m in the parking lot. Chester’s here with me.”
“Get in your car and stay there until I arrive.”
Abby raked a nervous hand through her hair. “My keys are in my office, Chris. And I . . . I’m afraid to go in there!”
“Then stay where you’re at. Find a spot to sit down.”
“Okay,” Abby said and scanned the parking lot. Seeing the steps that led upstairs, she sat down on the bottom two, placing her feet on the first step. Chester curled up next to her, protecting her. “I’m on the back steps.”
“Okay,” Chris said.
What were only minutes seemed like hours as Abby sat cowering on the steps, waiting for Chris to come to her rescue. When she saw his Toyota Camry pull into the parking lot, she’d never been so happy to see him. All the fear she’d just experienced left her body, and she was limp with exhaustion.
Chris barreled out of the car and was at her side. “Abby! You look terrible. What in the hell just happened?” He helped her to her feet and placed his arm around her for support. Chester never left her side.
“I’m sure I’ve just experienced my first panic attack,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat after Chester jumped in and seated himself in the backseat. “I was fine until I went inside my office. The next thing I know, my heart is pounding, my hands started trembling, and I could hardly swallow. Upstairs in the newsroom, everything looked out of shape, sort of surreal.”
Chris reached for her hand. “Sounds like a panic attack. I’m not a doctor, but I suspect you’re having some kind of delayed reaction to being kidnapped. PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. From what little I know, it’s not all that uncommon.”
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