Even into perpetuity.
T
oots, Sophie, Mavis, and Ida gathered around the dining room table in Toots’s bungalow. For some reason that bungalow had become the unofficial meeting place. She had to admit she liked it that way because she was lazy. If she decided to smoke, she could. Hers was a smoking bungalow. If the others didn’t like it, tough titty. Since she was footing the bill for this little vacation, what she wanted should count for something. Which reminded her of the ten-million-dollar hit she’d taken. She was so angry, she knew she was capable of chewing nails and spitting rust. At the moment she had to deal with her friends. She had the rest of her life to plot the death of the person who stole her money. She and the girls were doing Jell-O shots just then. She’d worry about her ten million dollars tomorrow.
“Mavis, all you have to do is pour it down your throat. You don’t actually eat it,” Toots said when she saw Mavis using a spoon to eat her lime green Jell-O. Toots had requested the Jello-O shots when she observed two young women tossing them back by the pool. One more new experience to add to her growing list.
“I’m savoring it.”
“Leave her alone, Toots. If she wants to use a knife and fork, it’s her business,” Sophie admonished.
“Okay,
okay.
But just one; remember, Mavis is on a diet. The last time I heard, alcohol was fattening.”
“Will the two of you stop fussing already,” Mavis said.
They went at it like they usually did.
“If Sophie would keep her unwanted opinions to herself, there wouldn’t be any
fussing,
as you put it,” Toots said.
“Whatever! You’re as bad as I am, Toots, admit it. Now give me another one of those shots. I plan on getting good and drunk tonight.”
Toots removed another round of shots from the refrigerator. “Any particular reason?”
“I called home today and spoke with Walter’s nurse. He isn’t doing so well. She said his vital organs were starting to shut down. With his liver gone, what does she expect? She acted like I was supposed to be surprised or sad, whatever. She said it could be just a matter of hours before he’s gone. Then she insinuated that most wives would be at their husbands’ bedsides. I wanted to ask her how many bedsides she’d been at where the dying husbands had beaten the daylights out of their wives, but I was good. I told her to call if he took a turn for the worse. So does that answer your question?” Sophie slurped another shot and reached for another. “Why don’t we make a toast, Toots? Mavis? Ida?”
“I’m ready,” Toots said.
Mavis held her empty shot cup in the air. “I’ll just use the empty shot glass.”
“I’ll pass,” Ida said from her chair at the head of the table.
“To Walter, may his passing be painful and his insurance settlement speedy!”
They all chimed in, touching the little shot glasses together. “To Walter!”
Toots watched Sophie out of the corner of her eye. Sophie was a tough old bird, but she knew her old friend was indeed hurting. Not so much because of Walter’s imminent passing, but the sadness that came with endings. “I can have a private jet ready whenever you need to go, okay?”
“That’ll work, Toots. Thanks.”
The little group mumbled and muttered and continued to drink. And smoke.
Sophie held up her empty cup. Toots opened the refrigerator and took out the two remaining shots and handed both to Sophie. “You can have these. I don’t think I can handle any more. You were right to want to get drunk tonight, Sophie. After Leland’s funeral, I drank an entire bottle of wine. I think all widows should get snockered. Dulls the pain of knowing you have to wear black. But that’s only when you don’t care. I didn’t care, and it’s pretty obvious Sophie doesn’t care, so there you are!”
“I already told you I was not wearing black. I’m going to wear red. I don’t want to do the mourning thing, Tots, Tits…you know what I mean? I just want to bury Walter, cook his ass up, and be done with it. I’m not even sure I want to stay in the city. It’s so nasty, with all those garbage bags tossed on the sidewalk. It stinks, too. Why should I go back? Can either of you give me a good reason?” Sophie was drunk, her words beginning to slur. “Ida?”
“You can come to Maine and live with me. I have a beautiful little cottage. You wouldn’t have to pay me anything either,” Mavis said.
“Oh, Mavis, you’re too damned kind. You’d get sick of me in two days. I could move in with Ida, she’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The look of fear that crossed Ida’s face sent Sophie into another fit of laughter. When she caught her breath, she said, “I’m joking, okay? What do you do with your garbage, Ida? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Sophie, you’re such a smart-ass,” Toots said.
“Well, I’m an honest smart-ass. So”—Sophie turned to Ida—“really, what do you do with your garbage when you’re afraid to touch it?”
Toots lost it then. She doubled over, grabbing her stomach.
“Sophie,” Ida said, “you always were a bitch. I’m going back to my bungalow. Good night, Mavis, Teresa.”
“I guess that means she isn’t going to answer my question. Good night, Ida, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Sophie couldn’t contain her laughter, couldn’t stop slinging stupid comments at Ida.
Ida left, and Sophie continued as if she’d never been interrupted.
“Maybe I’ll find a place out here. The weather’s perfect, I haven’t smelled anyone’s garbage yet.” Sophie reached for a cigarette, stuck it in the corner of her mouth, then lit up. She took a deep drag, holding the smoke in as long as she could before releasing it in one big puff. A glorious smoke halo sailed upward to settle over Toots’s head.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on Ida. We all know she’s a nutcase, but she is our friend,” Toots reminded her.
“Oh, screw Ida and the horse she rode in on,” Sophie snapped. “I’m sick of her phobia, her disease, or whatever the hell she has. It is my opinion Ida would snap out of her craziness if there was a man in her life. By the way, I decided not to keep Walter’s insurance money. I’m going to donate it all to charity. What do you think of that?”
“That
could
be the solution to Ida’s problem, but she’d never admit it. You might be right, Sophie, it could be as simple as Ida can’t live without a man. She didn’t become this germ freak until Thomas died. I wonder if she just needs a good lay, you know, an all-nighter?” Toots said thoughtfully.
“Oh, you two, I swear! I’m going to go before I laugh myself silly. I have a seven
A.M.
workout scheduled.” Mavis hefted her bulk off the chair, grabbed Coco, hooked the tiny leash to the Chihuahua’s bejeweled collar, then waddled to the door. “I’ll see you girls in the morning. And don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do. Night.”
“Good night, Mavis. Call my room as soon as you’re finished with your workout,” Toots said, remembering what a struggle it was for Mavis to walk from the bungalow, but she swore she was moving a little faster than she had the day before.
“I will. Night, Sophie.”
Sophie waved her hand in the air. “Night, Mave.”
As soon as they were alone, Toots put on a pot of coffee. “You want to stay here tonight? You’re too drunk to wander around searching for your bungalow, and I’m too tired to cart your ass around.”
“I’m not
that
drunk. I just like yanking Ida’s and Mavis’s chains, shock them a bit.”
“I figured as much. Were you serious about donating your money to charity?”
“Yeah, I was serious, but on second thought, how about if I just give it to you to offset your loss? So, any word on the thief who got their hands on your ten mil? I wanted to ask earlier, but never had the opportunity.”
Toots was stunned at Sophie’s offer. That five-million-dollar payoff was what had kept Sophie sane all these years. She knew now it was never about the money, hence the offer. As she waited for the coffee to brew, Toots removed two cups from the cabinet, Half & Half from the refrigerator. The sugar bowl was already on the table.
“You aren’t drunk, are you? You have to be the biggest fake in the world. And to answer your question, no, I haven’t heard a word. I was hoping Chris would call with some news, but nothing yet. I wonder if I should contact my bank in Charleston? Maybe they could track this money faster than Chris. But within an hour, that news would be all over town.”
“No, I’m not drunk. How astute of you to notice, Toots. But to answer your question, I don’t see how it could hurt, and I would bet anything Chris doesn’t have the connections your banker has. I know about stuff like this. Remember, I was married to a banker. Walter was a lousy husband, but he was damned good at his job until he started hitting the bottle. Unless you care about the town gossiping about you, I’d make the call.”
“I’ll do it when the bank opens. You know there’s something about what Abby said this afternoon that keeps bothering me. Remember how she said she was worried about her boss, the one who gambles and drinks?” Toots poured them each a cup of coffee and brought them to the table.
“Yeah, I do.” Sophie poured cream in her cup. “What are you thinking?”
“Well, it makes sense that he’s the obvious one to have stolen my money, then took it on the lam. Abby said he was knee-deep in debt, the paper is mortgaged to the hilt, and suddenly my ten million dollars shows up in Chris’s escrow account. Her boss knew it was coming. Who else knew? Then some hacker gets into the account, and, poof, the money disappears before Chris can transfer it to
The Informer’s
account as payment for the purchase. Finally, to top if off, the slimeball disappears. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
“And Chris did say the money was transferred to a bank in the Cayman Islands. I think you’re onto something Toots. Maybe we need to make a quick trip to the Caymans.”
“That’s exactly what I need to do, but haven’t you heard? They’ve been hit by a hurricane. I saw it on the Internet this morning when I was checking my e-mail. The airport is closed, and most of Grand Cayman is without power, according to what I read. It could take days to get that island up and running again.”
“So what will you do?”
“That’s just it. There isn’t anything I
can
do, at least not until Grand Cayman is back together. I’ll keep checking the news and the Internet. Really, now that I’ve laid it all out, I can’t believe how obvious it is! I lose ten million dollars, removed from Chris’s escrow account before he put it into the account of
The Informer,
and the owner of
The Informer
disappears.
“I’m a strict believer in common sense, too. The only problem is, I can’t come out and accuse him because, if I do, then Abby will know I’m the one who was buying the paper, the sucker who was bilked out of ten million dollars. Abby would be humiliated if word got out that her mother was buying the paper, the
failing
paper, mind you, where it just so happens she works, then, boom, she gets ripped off before she even has a chance to make the purchase. That would make terrific headlines for the other tabloids. The ultimate scoop, and it won’t be Abby’s scoop.”
“I can see the headlines now. ‘Rag Rakes in Riches!’ Isn’t that what Abby called him?”
“Yes, actually she told me once it was his initials. They just call him Rag behind his back. You’re right, that wouldn’t look good. When I find him, I’m going to wrap my hands around his neck and choke him until he can’t breathe.”
“Then you’d go to prison for the rest of your life,” Sophie informed her.
“I didn’t mean it literally. It’s just a figure of speech. I assume the feds will go after him since this involves bank fraud. They’ll send him up the river for so long he’ll forget what he did to get there in the first place.”
“That’s too good for him if you ask me.”
“True.” Toots reached for the coffeepot and brought it to the table, refilling their cups.
“So when the hurricane damage is clear, are you going down there?”
“Maybe. I’ll see what Henry says. I’m sure he has a few contacts there. Like you said, bankers know other bankers, that kind of thing. If he thinks I need to go, I will. I’ll have to run all of this by Chris of course. I trust him, he’s smart, but I don’t think he wanted to get involved in this transaction; he just did it as a favor. He tried to talk me out of buying that damn paper, but I didn’t listen.”
“Just so you know, I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes. Shit, I’d do it in my own shoes. You did it for Abby, not yourself. We want what you want for her because we all love her.”
“I know that, and Abby does, too. I just know she wouldn’t appreciate me sticking my nose in her business. She set up some ground rules a long time ago, and for the most part, mother or not, I try to stick by them. I might not like them, but I do try.”
“When we were leaving the paper today, I heard her ask you about owning the paper. What was that all about?”
“That made my blood run cold. I think she suspects something. At first I had the silly thought she might ask me to buy the paper as an investment, but that didn’t happen. My gut is telling me she suspects something. It’s a mother-daughter thing.”
“You are her mother, so that means you’re probably right. I wouldn’t bring it up again; let her be the one to come to you. That’s my advice, for whatever it’s worth.”
“I’m not going to say a word. As far as Abby’s concerned, we’re here for a vacation and to spend time with her and nothing more. Now, I don’t know about you, but my old ass is dragging. I say we toss this coffee and call it a night.”
“You always have the best ideas, Toots. I’m going to crawl onto the sofa and call it a day. As long as you don’t mind.”
Toots nodded. Out of habit she rinsed out their cups and turned off the coffeemaker before heading to her room.
“Night, Sophie.”
“Night, Tits.”
Toots heard Sophie giggle as she closed her door.
C
hris crawled out of bed, making his way to the kitchen. After his conversation with Abby, there was no way he could sleep. He prepared a pot of coffee before going outside to sit on the terrace.
A huge wave crashed against the sand just as a cool breeze whipped across the terrace. He dropped down on one of the iron chairs, minus the cushion.
He went over his last conversation with Abby. No way could he think about the earlier conversation, at least not immediately. There was no way he could ethically snoop into the disappearance of her boss without compromising Toots’s trust in him. He was caught in the middle between the two women he cared for very deeply. Hell, he was head over heels in love with Abby, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself.
He heard the coffeemaker’s final gurgle. He went inside, poured a cup, and brought it outside to the terrace.
Had he been too anxious tonight when he told Abby he was interested in her and not in a brotherly way? Was it too soon? No, it wasn’t, because he’d felt this way for years. Tonight, an opportunity presented itself, and he took it. Abby told him she really liked him, and he’d taken it from there. Had he misunderstood her? Was she just telling him she liked him and nothing more? No, because if that was the case, when he’d kissed her soft fingertips, she would have smacked him silly. He rather thought she’d liked it. He knew he did.
Chris made a mental note to call Toots first thing in the morning. There was no way he could disclose what had happened between Abby and him, but in all fairness to Toots, he felt ethically bound to tell her what Abby had asked him to do.
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.