He looked at the clock, saw it was almost two in the morning. Too late to try to sleep, but it wasn’t too late to dream about Abby.
Chris returned to his bedroom, where he crawled under the covers, but he was more restless than ever. He turned on the television, flipped through ESPN, CNN, and FOX News. Nothing worth watching. He clicked on The Weather Channel just for the noise. When he heard the meteorologist mention the Cayman Islands, he turned up the volume.
“All scheduled flights have been canceled. Power on most of the island is out….”
What the hell? Odd, knowing that Toots’s money had been wired to a bank in the Caymans. Had someone known of the impending storm, deciding to transfer the money when they learned a hurricane was expected to hit the barrier islands? No, it was too stupid to consider, but whoever the culprit was, Mother Nature had certainly lent him or her a helping hand.
The island was without power, which meant the banks, along with most everything else, were shut down. Which also happened to mean that if the thief was on Grand Cayman, that person wouldn’t be able to access the money he or she had blatantly stolen from Toots either. Maybe Chris could find a way to contact the Bank of Bermuda. If he could, there was a good chance that he could catch the worthless creep who had helped himself to Toots’s money.
Micky guzzled the last beer from the twelve-pack he’d brought home after wasting his evening chasing down the hot little chick from the paper. She knew where that piece-of-shit boss of hers was, he’d bet money on it.
He’d gone back to the paper, thinking he’d sneak inside again, only this time he planned to take one of the laptops he’d seen on Rag’s desk. Not bothering to park in the alley, he’d pulled his Vette in the back lot at the paper. Just as he was about to get out of his car, he’d seen the blonde girl with Rin Tin Tin leaving. On a whim he followed her, thinking she could lead him straight to her boss. He followed her to a fancy neighborhood in Brentwood, parked across the street, and watched her. When he saw her sashaying out the door in that sparkly shirt and those fuck-me shoes, he knew he’d made the right decision when he’d followed her.
The Buzz Club, what a joke. He’d gone inside after the girl. The place was jam-packed with Hollywood types. He’d spent ten minutes trying to inch his way through the crowds. He didn’t find her, but knew she’d have to come out eventually, so he’d parked his Vette across the street and waited. How the fuck was he supposed to know he couldn’t park there after hours? Some idiot from the city had told him to move his car for the street cleaners. He wanted to tell him to shove it but changed his mind. He was trying to recover fifty thousand dollars. He couldn’t afford any more trouble.
He’d watched the parking lot, saw the car parked next to that yellow junk pile she drove back out of the parking spot. He raced over to get the empty spot and almost hit the bitch’s car. She’d left the Buzz Club with some guy, and he’d missed it.
He had a plan, an idea. He wasn’t going to wait for the blonde to lead him to her boss.
It was as good a time as any to put his plan into action. He found the shirt he’d tossed earlier on the back of a chair and put it on. Socks, shoes, wallet.
Inside the garage he took his gas can, putting it in the trunk of his car. What better way to gain attention than a fire? Micky laughed.
The Informer was about to go up in flames. He figured it wouldn’t take much, given all the paper the place must have in storage.
Damn, he thought as he cranked the Corvette over, when you’re good, you’re good.
Chapter 31
Toots called Henry Whitmore as soon as she woke up. It was six o’clock on the East Coast, three o’clock on the West Coast.
“I hope to God this is a life-or-death emergency, Teresa. It’s six o’clock in the morning.”
“Shit, I forgot. Listen, Henry, you need to wake up and pay close attention to what I’m about to say. Are you awake?”
“Yes, yes, go on.”
Toots explained what happened and her suspicions to her banker. “I know I’m right about this. Before you say I told you so, I’ll admit I should have listened, but it’s Abby. You know a mother isn’t rational when her child’s happiness is at stake.” Yes, it was a lame excuse, but it was the truth.
“I’ll get right on this. Don’t you dare make another financial decision without discussing it with me first. Do you understand me, Teresa?”
“Yes, I do. Call me the minute you have any news.”
Toots hung up the phone, then dialed Chris on his cell. He answered on the first ring. “Did I wake you?”
“It’s only 3 A.M. Toots. Why would you think I wouldn’t be awake,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Are you and Abby okay?” he asked.
“Yes, we’re fine. Or at least I am. I’m sure Abby’s at home. She was preparing to do some research on the Internet when I left her office this afternoon. Listen, I think I might know who took my ten million dollars.”
For the second time, Toots explained her theory.
“It makes sense, but Abby’s bound to find out. Especially if the FBI gets involved. I won’t tell her, but you better watch yourself since she might put two and two together. She’s smart,” Chris said. He wondered if Toots knew how smart her daughter really was.
“I know she is, that’s why I’ve got to do every deceitful, underhanded thing in my power to see that she doesn’t.”
“I’ll do what I can, Toots, but remember, if she finds out, it’s your ass, not mine.”
“You’re a good man, Chris. Call me if you learn anything.”
Toots hung up the phone. She dialed Abby’s cell phone number on the chance she’d be awake.
“Morning, Mom. I won’t ask why you’re calling this early, and yes, I was up. Chester’s bladder doesn’t care what time it is.”
“I wanted to invite you for lunch. Think you can fit that in your schedule today?” Toots crossed her fingers.
“I have to eat sometime. Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s meet in the Polo Lounge at noon. Is that convenient for you?”
“Sure, it works for me. Are you bringing the three Gs? I haven’t seen Ida yet. Tell her I miss her and want to see her. And I don’t have any germs or whatever it is she thinks everyone has. By the way, how does she justify the rest of us walking around and not succumbing to whatever it is she fears? Do you know?”
“I’m sure Sophie and Mavis will want to see you; where Ida is concerned, I can’t make any promises. She’s really messed up. Dr. Sameer seems to think he can help her. He gave her some medication, but I don’t know for sure if she’s taking it. I think a good swift kick in the ass might do her more good than anything, but I’m not a doctor.”
“Frankly, Mom, I’m surprised Sophie hasn’t taken it upon herself to do just that.”
“Well, she’s told Ida what she thinks about the situation in no uncertain terms. I think she might be finished with the verbal and go to the physical any hour now.”
“I know. Just one more reason why I love her so much. Listen, Mom, I’ve got to let Chester inside. I’ll meet you at noon.”
“I’ll see you then, Abby.”
Toots hung up the phone, made her second pot of coffee of the morning, plotting and planning what she would like to do to the creep who had ripped her off. Ten million dollars wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Yes, she had more money than she’d ever live to spend, but it belonged to her, not to some third-rate tabloid failure. The more she stewed, the angrier she became. She poured a cup of coffee, then found the remote. She clicked on The Weather Channel and waited impatiently for an update on Hurricane Deborah.
“Thousands are still without power. Again, all flights except for emergency medical and those organizations providing humanitarian aid remain canceled. Stay tuned….”
A banner at the bottom of the screen displayed names of organizations that needed donations and volunteers. Toots scribbled the address down on a pink notepad. She’d send one of them a check
, hoping that it might speed up the recovery process. Like her check would make that happen, but she always donated to worthy causes.
She glanced at the time on the television. Almost 5:00 A.M. Damn, she was getting off to a late start. At home she would’ve already cussed Bernice out at least once and smoked a minimum of three cigarettes. Spying the pack of Marlboros on the table, she lit one up and sucked in the nicotine as though it were pure oxygen. She loved to smoke. Wonder what the surgeon general would make of that thought? Didn’t matter. She knew it was bad for her; that was one of the reasons she’d never considered quitting.
Toots almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a light rap on the sliding glass doors. She looked up and saw Sophie. Motioned for her to come inside. “You scared the daylights out of me. When did you leave? The last time I looked, you were on the sofa. I figured you’d sleep in since you stayed up so late. Any news on Walter?”
“I needed a shower, so I left about an hour after you went to bed. What I need right now is some coffee,” Sophie said.
Toots filled the cup she’d rinsed out earlier. “Here.”
Sophie fired up and drank half a cup of coffee before uttering another word. Toots guessed her friend must really be worn-out because it was a rare moment when Sophie’s mouth wasn’t running like a rabbit.
“I turned my cell phone off after talking to that bitchy nurse last night. I haven’t turned it back on. It’s too early to deal with bad news. I figure if he bit the bullet in the past couple of hours, it won’t matter one way or the other if I know the minute it happened or not. So”—she took a drink of coffee, another hit off her cigarette—“did you call the banker and Chris?”
“I did. Chris seems to agree that there is a possibility I might just be right. The bad news is that he told me Abby asked him to look into the disappearance of her boss. Chris told her he couldn’t. Said it was a conflict of interest.”
“Oh, shit, what’d she say to that?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I invited Abby for lunch. I’m sure the subject will come up. I don’t know what I’ll tell her. Any suggestions?”
Sophie stretched, turned her head from left to right before answering. “Hmmm, let me think a minute. Could the conflict be that you’ve hired Chris to do something legal like drawing up a will or something? Or maybe to hire him to scout some property for you to buy. That might get you off the hook.”
“I suppose I could tell her that, but it doesn’t sound very plausible. But then I am an old lady with whims. I’ll simply tell Abby that I needed Chris to draw up papers for a legal matter that I can’t discuss with her. Actually, that is the truth. I’ll just wing it from there if I have to. Poor Abby, what did that girl do to deserve such a sneak for a mother?”
“You’re trying to help her, Toots. We all want what’s best for her. Like I said, I would be doing the same thing if I was in your shoes.” Sophie finished her coffee, got up, and poured another cup. “You want more?” she asked, before returning the pot to its cradle.
“No, this is my second pot. I’m about to drown in all the caffeine I’ve consumed.”
“I need it today. I told Mavis I’d look after Coco while she was with her trainer this morning. I haven’t heard from her yet.”
“She must be running late. She said they were meeting at seven,” Toots said.
“I’d better go check on her. She’s usually very punctual. I’ll be back as soon as I find her.”
“If I don’t answer, I’m in the shower.”
Sophie nodded, another cigarette dangling between her lips. She left the same way she’d entered.
Toots used her time alone to check her e-mail, hoping for a message from Henry or Chris. Nothing yet. Before the gang piled in, she took a fast shower and dressed in an aqua skirt with a floral blouse. Quickly, she twisted her hair in a topknot, then applied a thin coat of mascara and a touch of lipstick. She checked herself in the mirror. Lavender half-moons under her eyes. She dotted cover-up beneath them, knowing a good night’s rest was all she needed to make them vanish.
At times it was hell being a woman, she thought as she went back to the living area. She’d lowered the volume when Sophie came in. Now she raised it, changing the channel to a local news network. If she was going to live there part-time, she figured she needed to start boning up on local affairs. Maybe she would learn something newsworthy she could share with Abby at lunch that afternoon.
Fires from the Santa Ana winds dominated the news; hundreds of people were being evacuated. More than seventy-five homes had been lost in the fire. She made a mental note about not buying a house in a fire zone. She also didn’t want to live in an area where there were mudslides. California had great weather, but there were pitfalls as well.
Sophie tapped on the glass again, this time with Coco. “Mavis was waiting for me. She’s so enthusiastic about losing weight. It kinda makes me sick, ya know?” Sophie said before putting Coco on her designated pillow.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. Mavis is the best of all of us. If it wasn’t for her, we probably wouldn’t have made it out of high school, let alone college. She’s a good egg, and I don’t want to hear you bad-mouthing her, you got it, Sophie?” Toots said in a voice Sophie had never heard.
“What the hell crawled up your butt in the last fifteen minutes? I was simply stating a fact. She’s excited about losing weight. I don’t know anyone as heavy as Mavis who would get excited at the thought of spending time walking her ass off on a treadmill. Don’t be so touchy, or you’ll end up like Ida. One nut in the bunch is one too many if you ask me.”
“Nothing crawled up my butt. You complain too much, that’s all. If you really want to know, I’m proud of Mavis. Ida, too. Yes, Ida’s a little whacko right now, but we both know she hasn’t always been this way. Give her time, she’ll return to being the snooty bitch she’s always been.”
“I’m sure you’re right. I just can’t understand someone’s being afraid of germs. I spent years working in a germ-infected doctor’s office, and it didn’t kill me. I never missed a day of work, did I ever tell you that? Even when Walter banged me up, I still went to work. That was the only place I could relax.”
“Well, you should’ve left him after the first time, but it doesn’t do any good to look back on bad times. Personally, I would have hired a goon to, you know…take care of him.”
“Trust me, I thought about it. The repercussions were just too damn risky. If he’d ever found out I even considered something like that, I probably wouldn’t be here talking about it. Walter was very dangerous back then.”
“Well, you are here, and that’s what counts. How about I fix us both a big bowl of Froot Loops? I need a massive sugar fix.”
“Sounds good to me. What about Coco? Think we ought to give her a bowl, too? She’s awfully small.”
Toots laughed. “She’s supposed to be small. You’re not supposed to give dogs sugar.”
“I knew that. I just thought she might want a treat.”
“Mavis has given the dog too many treats. It’s a miracle she isn’t overweight.”
Toots’s cell phone rang. She answered immediately. “Abby. Yes, I saw the fires just a few minutes ago. What? Yes, of course it’s not important. Call me the minute you have more news.
“You’re not going to believe this, Sophie. Not only did that lowlife jerk rip me off for ten million dollars, Abby said someone tried to set fire to The Informer! Think insurance.”
“Talk about your investment going up in flames,” Sophie said. “Is she okay? I hope no one was hurt.”
“She’s fine. She wasn’t at the office, thank God. As far as she knows, the building was empty when the fire started.”
“I seem to recall you sending me an e-mail saying you needed some excitement in your life. It looks like you’re getting more than your share.” Sophie grinned.
“Yes, I guess I should be careful what I wish for, huh?”
Chapter 32
; After he doused the offices with gasoline, Micky Constantine tossed a match in Rag’s office, then raced like a madman to leave the building. He’d parallel-parked across the street this time because he knew once the place exploded, he’d only have a minute at most to get the hell out of Dodge.
As he pulled out of his space, he saw three fire trucks pulling into the back parking lot. What the fuck? They couldn’t be there already! Tromping on the gas to get the hell away from the place, he wondered if anyone had seen him enter the building. Then he remembered he’d left the gas can behind in Rag’s shabby office. Son of a bitch! How stupid was that? He didn’t dare go back for it; they’d have his ass locked up in a heartbeat. Maybe it would burn. Yeah, it would. He’d seen something like that in an episode of CSI. But that poor bastard on TV got caught. They were always stupid on TV. He was way too smart to get caught.
Leaving the sounds of sirens behind, Micky banged his fist on the steering wheel. This was all Rag’s fault. If he had paid him his fifty grand like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened. If he got caught, which he knew wasn’t gonna happen, Rag’s ass was going down with him. All he had to do was find him.
With the pedal to the metal, Micky was back at his house in record time. He pulled the Vette inside the garage, locked the main door, then went inside to the front room. He clicked on the TV, surfing through several channels until he found what he was looking for.
A woman reporter wearing a dark blue dress that looked like something an old maid would wear stood in the alleyway behind the paper with a microphone in her hand and a notepad in the other. When he hit the volume, her clipped voice filled the room.
“Firefighters managed to control a fire earlier this morning at the offices of The Informer, a noted tabloid. When I spoke with one of the firefighters, he told me arson is suspected. He went on to say a gas can was found in the offices of The Informer’s owner, Rodwell Godfrey. When we tried to contact the owner, WLAV learned that he’s been reported as a missing person by a concerned staff reporter, Abby Simpson….”
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