Tuesday's Child

by Fern Michaels

  Chapter 12

  PATTY MOLNAR WAS BREATHLESS FOR SOME REASON AS SHE TOOK her seat in a booth in back of the pub. Her adrenaline was at an all-time high. Home run for Sophie. She inched closer to Jed, liking the feel of him next to her. She watched as Nick yanked at his tie and shrugged out of his lightweight summer jacket. Jed did the same thing. Even though it was cool in the pub, they’d sweated a gallon of perspiration on their walk from the courthouse.

  Duffy’s Pub was just like any other pub, now minus the stale odor of cigarette smoke. It was all mahogany and brass, comfortable wide booths, and superefficient waiters and waitresses. The food was excellent because all Duffy’s served were half-pound Kobe beef burgers on homemade, from-scratch buns and onion rings made on the premises with their own batter. From opening to closing, the beer flowed freely from a large keg that was the centerpiece of the pub. Every seat at the bar was full, even at that time of day, because lawyers and reporters weren’t held to hard-and-fast schedules. Duffy’s was the epitome of the perfect watering hole. A place to meet and greet. A place to snag a pickup. A place to bitch and moan and plot someone’s downfall, usually some ornery judge, after a harrowing day in court.

  The little group made small talk when the waiter took their orders, which really wasn’t necessary, more a formality because everyone got the same thing, a burger to die for, out-of-this-world onion rings, and beer so cold it froze your nostrils when you brought the glass to your lips.

  The moment the waitress was out of sight, the threesome started to jabber at once. The gist of the yammering was, How do you think it went?

  Jed looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure I can call it. Those women were pretty damn feisty. They let themselves be bamboozled by that educated foreman. Ten years ago, they could live with it, but now, ten years later, with all that’s happened, they’re no longer comfortable. They’re either going to go to ground, give out no interviews at all, or their consciences are going to make them feel so guilty that they want vengeance. And who better to throw to the wolves than the foreman and juror number four. Toss in Ryan Spenser, and you have a very explosive mixture. I’m going with the latter, but that’s just my opinion.” He turned to Patty, and said, “You were great, honey.”

  Patty beamed.

  “Do you two have any idea how sappy you look?” Nick growled, as their cold beer arrived. They picked up their glasses. Nick made the toast. “To Sophie Lee!”

  “You still have a thing for Sophie, huh?” Jed said quietly. He wasn’t being snide or brash, and Nick responded in kind, his eyes on Patty.

  “Always did, but she could never get past that big-brother thing. I got past it. I was hoping, and we were actually making progress, when the dark stuff hit the fan. Where is she, Jed?”

  Jed sighed as he flopped back against the booth. “You know I can’t tell you that. I would if I could. Don’t badger me, please.”

  “Yeah, Nick, don’t badger him. If he tells anyone, it will be me, right, sweetie?”

  “Wrong!” Jed held up his glass for a refill. He had it in seconds.

  “I thought it went well back there,” Nick said.

  “It did. It went so well, Spenser is in hiding. No one is going to see him for a while, trust me on that. He really stuck his foot in it when he said he wasn’t sure if Star’s deathbed confession was legit.”

  Patty’s cell phone chirped just as their food arrived. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the incoming text, her jaw dropping. Her face turned as white as the blouse she was wearing. Tears puddled in her eyes. “I don’t believe this,” she whispered.

  Nick immediately leaned over as Jed crowded next to Patty to read the text.

  “This is from my boss. He just ... he just fired me. For unprofessional behavior.”

  Nick and Jed both exploded with the two most famous words in the English language at the same time. “Oh, shit!”

  “Oh, shit is right,” Patty said, chomping down on her burger, tears dripping down her cheeks. Patty Molnar never had a problem with her appetite when she was upset.

  “Let’s consider this a blessing in disguise. I’ll call a press conference as soon as I get back to the office. The fix is in, and we can play this for all it’s worth. The daddy, Mr. Speaker, or the uncle governator must have gotten to the paper. Maybe both. Your boss is an idiot. This is not going to play well for Daddy’s little boy. Don’t cry, honey, you can come work for us. Same salary as you were getting at the paper. Sophie will be delighted you are on our payroll. You’re an investigative reporter; only difference is, you’ll be investigating for us. Win-win!” Jed said, holding up his glass. “Three refills!”

  “That’s so sweet of you,” Patty hiccuped. “You always come to my rescue, but are you sure Jay and Linda will be okay with your hiring me?”

  “As you know, they officially made me a partner when this whole thing started. The actual vote was yesterday even though all the letterheads, business cards, and the like were changed the day after Star died. It was Kala’s idea, just before she retired, and Jay and Linda agreed. So, yes, I can offer you a job. Kala even had my name put on the door a couple of months ago. Everyone in town knows it, I just haven’t talked about it. Didn’t want to jinx anything.”

  Nick sighed. “Well, that’s a relief. I won’t be going off to Hawaii with that worry on my mind. Can’t throw my game off like that.

  “I’d sue those bastards, Patty. Can you do that, Jed?”

  “Damn straight we can do that, and I’ll take it on myself. I’ll make you rich, honey, then we can retire in style. The firm gets a third, just so you know that right up front.” Jed chuckled at his own wit.

  “I never liked my boss. He doesn’t like women reporters.” Patty snuggled next to her savior and smiled at Nick.

  “Hey, big guy, how long you gonna be in Hawaii?” Jed asked.

  “Five days. Maybe six. One day traveling, two for the tournament. It’s one of those two-day match-play deals—one day to take in the islands, as I’ve never been there, and one day traveling back home. I picked up a new endorsement last week, so I have to be back to shoot the first commercial.”

  “I think we should order another beer and toast Nick as the next Tiger Woods,” Jed said playfully as he hugged Patty closer. “Or maybe not, considering the way the former number one has been playing the past two years.”

  As happy as he was for his best friend, Patty, Nick still felt jealous that she had the love of her life—and she certainly deserved it—while he had no romantic attachments. The prospects of finding his one true love seemed pretty remote at the moment. “Listen, Jed, will you tell Sophie—wherever she is, and I know you know where she is—to get in touch with me and Patty the first chance she gets? Don’t tell her about Jon, though. I think Patty and I should do that. We were such a team back then,” he said with a catch in his voice. Patty blinked, but she didn’t say anything. She bit down on her lower lip so she wouldn’t cry at the mention of their old friend Jon.

  “I think we should go now. I want to stop by the AJC to pick up my belongings and flip my boss the bird while I’m doing it.”

  “We’ll go with you,” Jed said as he reached for the check.

  “Yeah, we’ll all flip him the bird,” Nick said, struggling into his jacket. “If the time is right, and I get a chance, I’ll tell him that I’m going to tell my sponsors not to advertise in his paper. Like Kala and Jay always say, money talks and bullshit walks.”

  “You’d do that for me, honest, Nick?” Patty said, throwing her arms around him.

  “Why wouldn’t I do that? You’re my best friend, the sister I never had. Of course I’d do it for you.” And he meant every word of what he’d just said.

  The threesome left Duffy’s and headed back toward the courthouse and the parking garage, where they picked up their respective cars and headed toward the offices of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

  Patty was the lead car in the parade. Traffic was heavy, so she had time to think
and rehearse what she was going to say to J. T. Fry, her boss. But she knew in the end she probably wouldn’t say half the things she was rehearsing because she was a serene kind of gal. She liked her job, really liked it, and she was good at it. What she didn’t like was her boss and his cavalier attitude where women were concerned. All it had taken was one confrontation with him in which she had threatened a lawsuit for discrimination. From that moment on, she knew she was on J.T.’s kick list. Everyone else at the paper knew it, too.

  Twenty minutes later, Patty pulled into the parking garage and parked in the spot she’d earned month after month as reporter of the month. She waited for Nick and Jed to find parking spots. The three of them took the elevator to her floor, where she proceeded to clean out her cubicle. Her colleagues waved halfheartedly. Obviously, the news had already spread. One of her fellow reporters jerked his head toward the kitchen, which meant J. T. was getting coffee or having lunch. Patty nodded as she loaded Nick and Jed with her personal belongings, which weren’t all that much. She motioned for them to follow her to the kitchen.

  The newsroom went silent, the reporters’ fingers poised over their keyboards, but no keys were struck. If possible, they wanted to hear what was going down in the kitchen.

  “Yo, J. T. Just picked up my things and wanted to say good-bye. And to tell you how much I really hate your guts. And to tell you what I think of your journalistic politics. Any newspaperman who lets someone dictate to him about free press stinks in my opinion. I also want to tell you if you need to get in touch with me, you can reach me at the Aulani law firm. Ooops, it’s now called Aulani, Brighton, Brighton, and Darrow. I accepted a position there thirty minutes ago.

  “Where are my manners? This is Dominic Mancuso and Jonas Emanuel Darrow. Jonas is my new boss. Boys, this is my old boss, J. T. Fry, a man who can be bought.”

  Nick stepped forward, shifted the load in his arms, and said, “I’m notifying all my sponsors that if they advertise with this paper, I’ll cancel my contracts with them.”

  Jed stepped next to Nick, and said, “And I’m the guy who is going to file a discrimination suit against you personally and this paper as soon as I get back to the office.”

  “See ya around, fatso,” Patty said, referring to J. T.’s exceptional girth.

  Back in the newsroom on their way out, Patty’s colleagues high-fived her, grinning from ear to ear. She grinned back. Damn, she felt good. So good, in fact, she wanted to go somewhere to celebrate. Well, first things first; maybe later.

  Back in the parking garage, Patty’s belongings were dumped in the trunk of her car. Then it was time to say good-bye to Nick. God, how she hated good-byes. She hugged her best friend, told him to fly with the angels the way Sister Julie had always sent them off. “Be sure to bring me a present when you come back and not a shitty souvenir you found at some beach market. I want a quality present.” Tears trickled down her cheek for the second time that day. Nick’s hug was fierce. She backed away as Jed stepped forward and gave his friend a manly hug. Nick clapped him on the back.

  “Ya know, you really should stay a little longer than what you planned. You know, enjoy yourself a little. Live it up. I know you’re going to win that tournament, so you should celebrate.” Jed winked, hoping Nick would pick up on what he was trying to tell him.

  “Can’t. I have that commercial to shoot.”

  Jed snorted. “I can get you a postponement on that with no sweat.” He winked again. Nick’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

  “Yeah, yeah, I just ... yeah, sounds good. See if you can get me a week, and I’ll be ready to shoot when I get back. You guys take care now, you hear?”

  Patty and Jed stood with their arms around each other as Nick peeled away.

  “Sophie’s in Hawaii, isn’t she?”

  “Now, what makes you say that?” Jed said, heading for his car.

  “Because I’m an investigative reporter, and I saw that wink you think I didn’t see. So there!”

  Jed laughed as he settled himself into his snappy money green Porsche Boxter.

  “Damn,” was all Patty could think of to say as she climbed behind the wheel.

  Chapter 13

  NICK MANCUSO WALKED OFF THE GOLF COURSE AND HEADED TO the clubhouse. He knew from past tournaments it was going to take him a full hour, possibly two, before he could take a shower and change his clothes. He’d played the match and won, and now he had another game to play, the social game that helped get him to where he was.

  Dripping with sweat, he swiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his endorsed shirt, jammed his endorsed ball cap back on his head, and smiled, his eyes searching for the good-looking young guy whose last name was Aulani. But he couldn’t see him among the throngs of well-wishers who were waiting to shake his hand and congratulate him.

  It had been hot out there on the course even with the ocean breezes. A kind of heat he wasn’t used to. His hip was aching, too, so that hadn’t helped. Bone on bone was what the orthopedic doctor had said. Thirty-four and in need of a hip transplant. Ridiculous! But it wasn’t ridiculous; he’d consulted three top-notch orthopedic surgeons, viewed his X-rays. He hungered for some Advil and the hot tub at his hotel the way a man who was stranded in the desert hungered for a drink. Soon.

  Nick wanted to check to see if he had any texts from the mainland, but he couldn’t do that either, not till he had some privacy. Now, though, he had to prepare for the photo op, accept his trophy, and bank the very large check that would be handed to him.

  Nick sucked in his breath as he stared out the wraparound windows of the elite clubhouse. He loved Hawaii, what he’d seen of it so far. He gazed at the lush green lawn, the swaying palms, the verdant vegetation, and the colorful flowers that Hawaii was known for. He sniffed the half dozen or so leis that had been draped around his neck the moment he’d beaten his final opponent, three and two. He wasn’t sure, but he rather thought that a person could get drunk on the scent if they inhaled it long enough.

  Nick gulped at a glass of ginger ale and finished it in two swallows. He reached for a second glass and finished it, too. He eyed the tempting buffet and decided to pass on food. He could always eat later.

  Exactly three hours and twenty-three minutes later, Nick let himself into his hotel suite. He literally ran to the bedroom for his cell phone. Six text messages, five from Patty. One from a friend back home congratulating him. He read them hungrily even though there was nothing there to tell him where Sophie Lee was, if she was indeed on the island. He read them twice so he could think about them when he hit the shower and the hot tub.

  Nick almost passed out with the relief he felt when he lowered himself into the swirling hot water. Someone, the maid he assumed, had placed several leis in the hot tub, and the scent was so pleasing Nick closed his eyes and gave himself up to the moment and let his mind drift. He thought about Patty, Sophie, and Jon, and how close the four of them had been, how much they’d shared, all their hopes and dreams for the future. Jon was gone now, succumbing to some virus that attacked his delicate immune system while he’d worked as a missionary in the jungles of Peru. He, Sophie, and Patty had always looked out for Jon, as he was frail and far from healthy. Jon was the one who was always the voice of reason. He’d been so devastated at Sophie’s conviction, he’d had a nervous breakdown. The moment the verdict was read, he’d headed for the airport and Peru. Nick had gotten daily reports on Jon’s condition from the head missionary, for all the good he or Patty could do. He remembered how Jon had stood for one minute in the courtroom, eyed Patty and Nick, tears streaming down his face, then he was gone. His ashes had been sent to St. Gabriel’s, and the nuns had given those ashes to Nick. He still had them in his bedroom back in Dunwoody. He knew he would keep them forever. Sometimes, Patty asked to keep them for a week or so, and he always allowed it. She would return them, her eyes moist, and give him that little smile that was just for him.

  Patty, with the sparkling green eyes, feisty to the core, all 10
5 pounds of her, had taken Jon’s death so hard, she had cried for weeks. All she kept saying over and over was how could God do this to them, rob her and Nick of their sister and brother? The answer she always came up with was maybe because they weren’t blood brothers and sisters. She’d demanded answers from the nuns back then. She’d gone there like the spitfire she was and refused to accept their explanations. As far as he knew, she’d never gone to church again. Surprise! Surprise! He hadn’t gone, either. They, whoever they were, said that God worked in mysterious ways. He guessed now that it was true because Sophie was back among the living. All he had to do was find her.

  As he luxuriated in the steaming water, Nick replayed Patty’s other texts. She liked working at the firm. What was not to like, working alongside her fiancé? The hiring of the new associates had gone at the speed of light. Investigators had been hired, and she was in charge of all of them. She said she loved issuing orders to big burly guys and blond bombshells. Blond bombshells, she said, were ideal investigators.

  Another text said that the new hires were busy with the court transcripts. She herself was going over them with a fine-tooth comb. So far nothing concrete was jumping out, though there was something niggling at her that she felt was important but couldn’t put her finger on.

  The last text congratulated Nick on his win and contained a reminder to bring Patty a present. Nick smiled at the last comment. Earlier in the morning, he’d made arrangements to send two dozen plumeria leis to Kala’s office. Of course he would buy his best friend a trinket of some kind. Patty did love presents, that was for sure. He knew it wasn’t the actual gift she wanted but him taking the time to pick out something just for her. And as she pointed out numerous times, she wasn’t the least bit ashamed of reminding him. She’d always brought him something back, too, when she went on the road covering a story.