Breaking News (8 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
Chapter 9
B
ernice didn't dare tell Toots or any of the other ladies what she had planned. No doubt they would thwart her plans, and she wasn't going to allow that to happen. She'd been given a second chance at life, and she wasn't about to do anything that would jeopardize it. No way. No red meat, nothing sweet, and she'd ride that stupid exercise bike and walk on the treadmill until the cows came home if that was what it took. Not many people her age got a second chance at life. The first half of her life had been decent, except for her son leaving for parts unknown. Sharing Abby with Toots and those other three old women had made for a good life.
ernice didn't dare tell Toots or any of the other ladies what she had planned. No doubt they would thwart her plans, and she wasn't going to allow that to happen. She'd been given a second chance at life, and she wasn't about to do anything that would jeopardize it. No way. No red meat, nothing sweet, and she'd ride that stupid exercise bike and walk on the treadmill until the cows came home if that was what it took. Not many people her age got a second chance at life. The first half of her life had been decent, except for her son leaving for parts unknown. Sharing Abby with Toots and those other three old women had made for a good life.
When the others had all gone upstairs to check out Toots's attire for her big night out with Dr. Becker, and knowing they wouldn't expect her to climb the stairs, Bernice made her escape.
Careful of all the plant growth and shrubbery that separated Toots's house from old Mrs. Patterson's, Bernice wished she had thought to bring a flashlight. Some spy she was turning out to be. Dusk in Charleston was late, however, and for that she was grateful. Still, she wished she had remembered to bring along a flashlight, or, at the very least, one of those nasty cigarette lighters that were always being tossed on the kitchen table. Then she could have made a torch out of the dried limbs she was constantly stepping on, no matter how hard she tried to avoid them. She saw people do it on television all the time. With her luck, however, she'd catch herself on fire, along with the entire estate. No, her eyes and ears still worked pretty darn good for a woman her age. She'd just watch and wait. Something was bound to happen.
Carefully, she inched her way through the thick shrubs. Dried sticks cracked beneath her feet, the sound amplified in the early evening air. Most people were having dinner then or watching the evening news. She wouldn't be missed for at least another half hour, when Dr. Becker was expected to arrive.
The Patterson home was on the South Carolina Historical Society's list of homes.
It had been neglected since Mrs. Patterson's death. There were all sorts of wild green vines trailing up the side of the house that faced the back of the guesthouse where Jamie lived. Bernice noticed that seaweed-colored moss fanned the glass windowpanes, preventing anyone from seeing inside or outside.
Bernice pushed one last thorny bush aside, then stepped fully onto the side lawn, where she encountered knee-high grass much in need of a big drink of water. Adirondack chairs, faded from too much time in the sun, were turned over on their sides and backs. Out of the corner of her eye, Bernice saw something move. Her heart drummed in her chest, and for the briefest moment, she was frightened.
“Ah, crap, I'm a wuss,” she said out loud, hoping to calm her fears. She wasn't afraid of whatever was hiding under the chairs. No, she'd felt her heart race, and that had scared her more than anything. Remembering when she'd last felt such a flutter in her chest reminded her that she was in decent shape, at least heart-wise. Her fear, reasonable though it might be, was nonetheless unfounded. Her mission clearly at the forefront by then, she pushed all negative thoughts aside.
As she walked across the neglected yard, she spied movement under the wooden chairs for the second time. Before she walked any farther, she searched for a weapon. To her left, she spotted a large limb lying on the ground. Must have been from that storm last month, she thought as she reached down to pick it up.
“Perfect,” she said out loud. “If there's a snake, or a . . .
goblin,
I'm gonna have the first swing.” Maybe Sophia and all her psychic mumbo jumbo were having more of an effect on her than she realized. No, she refused to go there. She was here because she'd died on that operating table. She was on a mission, had been sent back to earth to watch this old place, and that was precisely what she was doing. Though, come to think of it, wasn't this mission along the same lines as Sophie's séances and her ability to reach out to the netherworld and beyond? Maybe she'd been a bit too hasty in judging Sophia. Could it be there was something to that mumbo jumbo, after all?
goblin,
I'm gonna have the first swing.” Maybe Sophia and all her psychic mumbo jumbo were having more of an effect on her than she realized. No, she refused to go there. She was here because she'd died on that operating table. She was on a mission, had been sent back to earth to watch this old place, and that was precisely what she was doing. Though, come to think of it, wasn't this mission along the same lines as Sophie's séances and her ability to reach out to the netherworld and beyond? Maybe she'd been a bit too hasty in judging Sophia. Could it be there was something to that mumbo jumbo, after all?
Distracted by her musings and knowing she had to hurry before Dr. Becker arrived to pick up Toots for their evening out, Bernice carefully inched her way over to the Adirondack chairs, her large stick held out in front of her just in case something jumped out at her.
Eyes darting in every direction, searching for the movement that had caught her eye minutes ago, Bernice jumped back a few paces when she heard a low growl, the sound coming from beneath the overturned chairs. Unsure what she might find, she walked closer to the chairs, then lowered herself into a kneeling position. Listening intently, she peered down, hoping to see what she'd heard before
it,
whatever
it
was, saw her first. Another low growl. It wasn't a snake, she thought, because she'd never heard a snake
growl.
She strained to hear one more time. She didn't want to mistake a growl for a hiss.
it,
whatever
it
was, saw her first. Another low growl. It wasn't a snake, she thought, because she'd never heard a snake
growl.
She strained to hear one more time. She didn't want to mistake a growl for a hiss.
Nothing.
Overcome with an attack of bravery, Bernice used her stick to push one of the large wooden chairs over on its side. What she saw just about did her in.
Frankie, Mrs. Patterson's seven-year-old dachshund, lay cowering in the overgrown weeds. Bernice reached down to pick him up. When she did so, he growled again. “Frankie, it's me. I won't hurt you, little guy. I thought someone took you away.”
Tears welled up in Bernice's eyes. She was a sucker for animals, though she didn't tell this to just anybody. Very carefully, she held her hand in front of Frankie's long reddish brown muzzle so he could identify her scent. As soon as he did this, he peered up at her with his big brown eyes, and Bernice swore he cried when a pitiful wail came from him. “Well, let old Bernice here see what's the matter.” She plopped down on her knees, which wasn't an easy feat. Then, being careful, because she didn't know where the little dachsie was injured, she gently picked him up. Frankie yelped, and Bernice set him back down. The little dog tried to stand, and as soon as he did, she saw that his hind legs refused to cooperate.
“Poor little man. You just wait right here. I'm going to get someone to help me get you out of here.”
The little reddish brown dachshund that Mrs. Patterson had adored, along with her cats, sat down in the tall grass as though he understood exactly what she had said.
“I'll be right back,” she added, before heading back to the shrubbery she'd just pushed her way through. In less than three minutes she was on the back steps leading to the kitchen.
She opened the door and shouted, “Toots! Help. It's an emergency. Come quick!”
Chapter 10
T
oots and Phil were saying their final good-byes to Sophie, Ida, and Mavis when they heard Bernice hollering from the kitchen.
oots and Phil were saying their final good-byes to Sophie, Ida, and Mavis when they heard Bernice hollering from the kitchen.
“Oh my God, she's having another heart attack! Phil, follow me!” Toots said, her words leaving no room for questions. He trailed behind her, stopping only when they reached the back door.
Apparently, Bernice was
not
having a heart attack.
not
having a heart attack.
Miffed that her evening with Dr. Becker was starting off on such a sour note, Toots wasn't nice when she spoke. “Bernice, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in your room, resting. You look like you've just had a roll in the hay.”
“Your friends' dirty minds have rubbed off on you. And no, I have not had a roll in the hay. I was . . .” She wasn't about to tell Toots she was spying over at the Patterson place. “Sitting on the stoop and heard this growling sound. I followed it to the Patterson house. Remember her little dachshund, Frankie? It looks like he's been left alone, and he's hurt. We need to get him some help. Now!” Bernice turned around and headed back the way she came. Toots and Dr. Becker followed her.
When they saw the little dog cowering from pain or fear, most likely both, Dr. Becker immediately ran his hands along Frankie's spine. “He's got a spinal injury. Let's get him back to your place, Toots, where I can assess the situation.” Without another word, Phil scooped up the ten-pound dog and gently cradled him against his shoulder.
Toots was outraged. “I cannot believe no one bothered to take poor Frankie. Why didn't someone say something? Jamie is here. She would've taken him in.”
Bernice gave her a dirty look. “Think maybe this is why I was sent back here?”
“No, I don't, but whatever you were doing over here, I'm glad you were here. I know you weren't sitting on the back stoop, because I just had a cigarette out there two minutes before you called. We can talk about your sneaking off later.”
By that time, they were back at the house. Phil put on his physician's hat. “Is there someplace where I can put him? Somewhere soft?”
“Follow me,” Toots said.
In the formal living room, Toots told Dr. Becker to place Frankie on the sofa. Who cared that she'd paid thousands to have it reupholstered?
Phil put the little dog on the sofa, careful not to make him hurt any more than he did already. He ran his fingertips along the base of his spine, then helped Frankie into a standing position. As soon as the dog stood, his hind legs collapsed.
“Just what I thought. If no one wants this little guy, which from the looks of it, they don't, I'll take him. I have a friend in Naples, Florida, who specializes in neurological injuries. Since we don't know how long he's been in this shape, time is of the essence. Toots, let's take a rain check on dinner and take a quick trip to Naples to see if we can try to save this little guy. What do you say?”
Toots looked down at her clothes. “Give me two minutes to change.” She left them in the formal living room and returned in two minutes with Sophie, Ida, and Mavis trailing behind. Mavis had Coco in her arms, and as soon as the little dog saw Frankie, she started whining, like she was crying.
“Oh my! What's happened to this animal? Coco senses when another animal is hurt. That's why she's making this noise,” Mavis said.
“He has a back injury,” Toots explained. “Dr. Becker and I are going to Naples, Florida, to a specialist.” She turned to the doctor. “Right?”
“Yes, and I'll need to borrow a crate if you have one,” he said to Mavis. “We want to keep him as still as we can. Now, I need to make a phone call.”
Phil left the room, leaving the three g's and Toots with the dog. Bernice sat on the sofa next to him. “Mavis, get Coco's carrier, a water dish, and a blanket. I know I can't go with Dr. Becker, but I want Frankie to be comfortable,” Bernice said.
“Sure, Bernice. I've got everything you need. Be right back.” Mavis raced out of the room so fast, she created a breeze.
Ten minutes later, Frankie had been given a dish of water, which he lapped up greedily. Mavis had given him a small plate of turkey breast, which he gobbled up so fast, they all teared up.
“Who knows when he had his last meal?” Toots said. “This really pisses me off. Those Realtors who put up that
FOR SALE
sign must have known he was there. I'll have their license before this is over with. I hate anyone who is cruel and negligent to an animal.”
FOR SALE
sign must have known he was there. I'll have their license before this is over with. I hate anyone who is cruel and negligent to an animal.”
“We don't know that for sure, Toots. But I get where you're coming from, even though I think Coco is a royal pain in the ass,” Sophie said, then bit her tongue, remembering that Mavis was in the room. “I meant that in a good way, Mavis. I love Coco almost as much as you do.”
They all knew that was a humongous lie, but like Toots, Sophie did have a soft spot for animals in general, no matter how much Coco in particular annoyed her.
Changing the subject, Toots asked, “Will we need a ride to the airport?”
“No, we can take my car. I have a buddy with a Learjet. He's waiting for us now. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to get to Naples. I've called Dr. Carnes, and she said she would be waiting for me.”
She?
Toots wondered if Dr. Carnes was a former love interest, but now wasn't the time or place. And he had asked her to fly to Florida with him.
Toots wondered if Dr. Carnes was a former love interest, but now wasn't the time or place. And he had asked her to fly to Florida with him.
Add another point to Dr. Becker's growing list of excellent attributes.
“I assume this Dr. Carnes is one of the best if you're willing to travel to Florida with a stray dog,” Mavis said in a serious tone.
“She is. I went to medical school with her father,” Phil explained to them. “She runs a place called the Animal Specialty Hospital. Does nothing but emergency medical treatment. No vaccines or nail clipping. She's top of the line, trust me.”
Toots breathed such a deep sigh of relief that they all turned to look at her. “What?” she asked when they wouldn't stop staring.
“You sounded like a big gush of hot air just blew out of your mouth,” Sophie said.
Everyone laughed except Phil Becker. He looked at his watch. “Let's get to the airport. Time is really important in cases like this. It'll determine whether this little man walks in the future.” Being as careful as he could, he lifted the crate off the floor.
Bernice, Sophie, Ida, and Mavis followed them to the front door.
“Call us as soon as you know anything, okay?” Mavis called out as Toots and Dr. Becker walked down the front steps.
“I will,” Toots said. “You girls try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone. Bernice, if I hear of you snooping at the Patterson place, I'm going to personally slice your tits off.”
With that, Toots climbed inside Dr. Becker's minivan.
As they drove through the gates, Toots had a terrible thought: if they spent the night in Florida, would Phil expect her to sleep with him?
A delightful chill shivered down her spine at the thought.
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