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Authors: Fern Michaels

Deadline (21 page)

BOOK: Deadline
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Chapter 25

T
ell me you're kidding,” Abby said. “After all the bullshit she caused, to think World Con would even consider hiring her for
Bloody Hollow, Two
is a nightmare, and now you're telling me they've actually rehired her?”
“I'm as surprised as you are. I guess her disappearing act carried a lot of weight with her fans. When they found out she'd lost the part for the next movie, they picketed the damn studio this morning. The fans say Laura Leigh is the only one who can play the role of Ella Larsen. Apparently the powers that be agreed with her fans. Her agent called me, and I wanted to tell you so
The Informer
can be the first to report this earth-shattering news,” Chris explained. He hadn't been home twenty-four hours, and he was already back in the swing of things, as good as new.
Abby liked a man who bounced back from adversity. Liked that he'd thought of sharing the news with her so she could report it in
The Informer,
but was that
it?
“That's why you called?” The words came out before she could stop them. She remembered what her mother had said when they located Chris. He wanted to speak with her, and it was, she believed her mother's exact words were, “vitally important.” Surely he remembered saying this to her mother. But if he didn't, far be it from her to remind him. He had enough explaining to do as it was.
“Yeah”—he chuckled—“that's why I called. Have you heard from your mom? How is Bernice?”
“Mavis called. Poor Bernice. She's having bypass surgery tonight. The doctor didn't want to wait. All that meat she gets from her friend, that butcher, Malcolm something or other. Bet he'll think twice from now on before plying her with all that artery-clogging beef. She'll be vegan before all is said and done. I wish I could be there, but duty calls.”
“I'll call your mother in the morning and check in. I'm so damn glad she used her brains when she saw my cell number. Another day with that little twit, and I would've gladly risked hypothermia to get away from her.”
Chris sounded like he meant what he said. So maybe he really wasn't involved with the twit.
“Did you actually believe her when she said she would bomb World Con? It's hard to see you falling for something that far-fetched.”
“Abby, that girl was so drunk, I wouldn't have put anything past her. As her attorney, I had to do what was best for my client. She was driving, so I followed her. Lucky for her and everyone else on the road that night, I called her cell and convinced her to pull over. I left my car, as you know, and, well, the rest is news for
The Informer.
“So, to answer your question, I did fall for her lies, assuming they really were lies. With someone as spoiled rotten as she is, no one can figure out what she thinks she is entitled to do. For God's sake, when the deputies showed up, she actually thought the studio had sent them to rescue her even though it had already decided not to cast her in the next
Bloody Hollow
film. Go figure.”
Abby was curled up in her mother's king-size bed, with Chester on one side and Coco on the other. Her mother didn't like the dogs on the bed, but Abby didn't want to be by herself in the giant bed—which made her think of sharing it with Chris. She visualized him stretched out beside her, his hair mussed from her hand running through it. Stop, stop,
stop!
Hadn't she learned anything? If Chris's feelings were as serious as hers, he would've said so by now. He was an upstanding kind of guy. Her mother said so, and she herself knew it. So, what was she waiting on? A proposal?
“Abby, if you don't answer me, I'm coming over there,” Chris said, louder than normal.
“What? Oh, sorry. The dogs were ... jumping on the bed. Mom doesn't like the dogs on her bed.”
“I'd bet the rent they're both curled up next to you on your mother's great big bed.” Chris teased.
Abby chuckled. “You'd win. It's too quiet here. I'm not used to staying here all alone.”
“Is that an invitation? My place needs to be cleaned. Steve and Renée didn't bother to pick up after themselves, so if you're asking—”
“I'm not,” Abby said quickly before the conversation got out of hand. But wasn't that exactly what she wanted? Things to get out of hand with Chris? Yes and no. Maybe, maybe not.
“Have you had dinner?”
Abby looked at her watch. Still early. “I've munched on fruit. I've been working, hadn't really thought about dinner. Why, did Steve and Renée eat all your mint-chocolate-chip ice cream? If I remember right, Renée could definitely use a little fattening up.”
I can't believe I said that!
She could practically
feel
Chris's question.
“I didn't know you'd met Renée.”
Abby waited for him to question her further. When he didn't, she figured she might as well spill the beans before Steve told him about her visit in the wee hours. Obviously he hadn't listened to his voice mail.
“It was either the second or third night you were missing. I drove to your condo. I didn't expect to find anyone there, and I ran into Steve and Renée as I was leaving.” Abby was not about to go into details about her snooping. If Steve or Renée wanted to, that was up to them.
“And there I was out chasing that obnoxious brat,” Chris finished. “I'm sorry. I feel like a jerk. I had no clue I'd make the news. I was just trying to prevent Laura from making the news. What a witch!”
Abby laughed. Coco's ears moved, and she emitted a low growl. “Excuse me, Queen.”
“Are you alone?”
“Just me and the dogs. Coco growled at me.”
“So, you never answered my question. Do you want to have dinner with me tonight? We could go to Pink's if you're up for the ride.”
Pink's.
It had been over two years since that night at Pink's when Chris kissed each and every one of her fingers, one at a time. One of the most memorable dates of her life. A few little kisses and a couple of hot dogs and she was toast. What she wouldn't give for another night like that.
So did she want to leave the comfort of her mother's king-size bed, the companionship of her two favorite animals in the world, to accompany Chris Clay to dinner?
Yes, she did. More than anything, but not that night. Not when Chris was headline news. She wanted to wait until the rumors died down. The public thought him romantically linked with Laura Leigh, Abby had her moments, but common sense overruled her jealousy. Chris would not involve himself with a client. She was as sure of that as she was that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow, but there was no way she was going to divulge this to him. Not yet, anyway.
“No, I can't. I'm sorry.” How she hated telling him no!
“Okay, maybe another time then,” he said, regret clear in his voice. “I might go grocery shopping. I need to get some cleaning supplies and some ice cream. So, you run with the story. You have an ‘inside source' if asked. And if you hear anything new on Bernice, call me.”
“Thanks, Chris, I will.” Abby hung up the phone, then curled up next to Chester. He was a great friend, but he wasn't Chris.
Chapter 26
“I
have to admit, I'm a bit nervous. This whole new feeling thing has creeped me out something fierce. But I need to do this, and fast. Something about that Dr. Lowery pushed me over the edge. Whatever the reason, I need to find out. Is everyone ready?” Sophie asked, then turned to Jamie. “Are you sure you want to participate? This might be a little scary for you the first time.”
Even though Jamie had witnessed Sophie in action at the bakery, she'd never involved herself in their séances.
“She's right. It's not too late to change your mind.” Toots wasn't sure
she
wanted to participate in the hastily planned performance, but Sophie was more serious than ever about doing it before Bernice came out of surgery. If they were lucky, they'd contact a spirit and maybe
it
would have an explanation for Sophie's urgency.
Ida and Mavis placed the candles in the formal dining room. In Charleston, they didn't have the old wooden table or the purple silk sheet Sophie always used, so they had to make do with an old tablecloth that had horses splashed all over a dark green background. Toots had no clue where it had come from. But it was old, and old worked. She kept extra rocks glasses in the hutch in the kitchen.
Mavis shut the heavy drapes and made sure the air-conditioning vents were closed. “Do you have the glasses?”
“Right here,” Toots assured her. “Let's hurry it up. Sophie's getting pencil and paper just in case this spirit decides it wants to communicate by scribbling.”
The props were finally in place. As soon as Sophie flew downstairs with her pencil and paper, they gathered in the dining room and prepared to receive any otherworldly entity that cared to make its presence known.
“Jamie, there are a few things I always say beforehand. We don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to condense what I normally say. Are you sure you're up for this?” Sophie asked in the voice she always used during the séances. Calm, soothing, nothing like the crass, loud Sophie they all knew.
“Yes. I'm a little nervous, but I'm excited, too. I'm hoping sometime we can try to contact my grandmother,” Jamie whispered.
“She might contact us tonight. We won't know until someone does visit us. Let's get started. Remember, we don't have the luxury of time.”
The dining room was dark except for the candles placed throughout the room. The golden flames danced despite the lack of any air circulating.
Sophie sat at the head of the table, Toots to her left, Mavis to her right. Ida sat next to Mavis, and Jamie took the seat next to Toots.
“Let's all join hands,” Sophie instructed in her soothing voice. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“We're here tonight to make contact with the other side. If there is a presence in the room and you wish to communicate, slide the glass in the center of the table to the right for yes. Slide the glass to the left for no. We ask that you enter peacefully, without evil intent.” Sophie and the others watched the glass.
Nothing.
Taking another deep breath, Sophie closed her eyes. Once again speaking in a soft tone, she tried coaxing the netherworld to the present. “Is there a spirit who is willing to speak through me? I am not frightened. We are not frightened. We want to help you.” Sophie squeezed Toots's hand. Toots squeezed back.
“Is there a male spirit, perhaps once married to one of us in the room, who wants to make his presence known?”
Toots shot Sophie a dirty look. She knew who Sophie was referring to.
Ida chose that moment to mumble. “Toots, I guess now that Evie Thackeray is dead, you can finally claim the title of living woman with the most ex-husbands.”
“Be quiet, Ida! Now isn't the time,” Sophie admonished.
Not caring that they were in the middle of contacting the other side, Toots responded to Ida's taunting. “I've always wondered who awaits me in the afterlife. Am I going to have my own harem of husbands waiting for me?”
“Only if they all end up in hell,” Ida stated.
“No, I'm serious. Who is going to be there to greet me, and which one could I end up stuck with for eternity?”
Temporarily giving up on the séance, Sophie chimed in, her crass voice taking the place of the calming one she'd used just minutes before. “Hopefully not the pervert. Which husband was it that used to get off on watching you go to the bathroom?”
“How is it you remember all of this, and I don't?” Toots asked.
Jamie smiled, but remained silent.
“I've always wondered what goes on in the afterlife. I mean, if we were sexual dynamos in life, will we be able to have as much sex as we want, or will we be required to sit around and listen to harp music while everyone tries to keep their white robes clean? I bet Evangelista Thackeray is up there right now trying to figure out which ex-husband she wants for eternity,” Ida said.
“Spoken like a true slut,” Sophie added.
Not wanting to be left out, Mavis added her two cents' worth. “I wonder if she will look like she did when she died, or like she did forty years ago? I'm guessing that would make a big difference in her ability to pick up a new husband in the afterlife.”
“I wonder if we could find that out? I would sure like to know that for myself. If I have to spend eternity looking the same way I do when I die, I'm going to reconsider my views on plastic surgery. Of course, if I'm lucky enough to have Ida do my final face, I guess I won't have to worry about it,” Sophie said before turning to Toots.
Before Toots could say anything, Ida said, “I don't think it would be that hard to get an answer. Maybe we should try and find out for ourselves. What about it, Sophie? Would it be a sin against the paranormal to use your abilities in pursuit of our eternal beauty?”
“It probably is, but I don't think there's any harm in finding out. I'm actually a little curious myself. It's just a matter of trying to channel a spirit who is willing to give up some time from their eternal happiness to provide us with beauty tips. We would have to find someone who had lost her beauty and would be able to tell us if she got it back.” Sophie was herself again, the serious medium gone.
Toots wondered if it was Sophie's uncanny ability of offering a sort of psychic comic relief.
“I bet Evangelista Thackeray would know the answer to that,” Ida said.
Excited, Mavis asked, “Do you think we have a chance of getting in touch with her? I agree with Ida. If anyone would be able to tell us about regaining her looks, she would be the right person to talk with. So what do you think, Sophie, is it possible?”
“Anything is possible.”
“Then let's give it a try since I'm dying to find out,” Toots said.
“I bet that's the exact same thing Evangelista thought right before she passed, so be careful what you wish for, Toots,” Mavis advised.
“Okay, enough with the smart-alecky remarks. We need to get serious and focus if we're going to be able to channel someone specific at will. What do you think is the best way to go about doing this, Sophie?” Ida asked, overly excited at the prospect.
“We're not going to need specific answers, just a simple yes or no, so I imagine there really won't be very much to it. You girls just need to settle down and get serious. Respect the process, or it won't work.”
Sophie watched as the candlelight flickered. She suddenly got a feeling of trepidation, as if there was a bigger underlying reason behind this séance than what she and the girls had been thinking. Noticing the sudden change in her demeanor, the group gathered around the table suddenly realized something wasn't right with Sophie. Her fierce, firm, unafraid appearance was gone, replaced with the face of a genuinely frightened woman.
“Is everything okay, Sophie?” Mavis asked. “You don't look good.”
“I'm not sure. I've got a feeling there is something more to this than we think, and I'm afraid to find out what it is.”
“That's never stopped us before. If anything, it's all the more reason for us to go ahead. There might be someone trying to get through, Sophie.” Toots held Sophie's hand tightly, afraid to let go.
Resigned, Sophie perked up. “This might be the perfect time for me to try out the new toy Goebel gave me.”
At that point, there was no way Ida could help herself. “Really, Sophie, I don't think that's a good idea. The spirits might get offended once they heard the humming noise coming from between your legs.”
“Jeez, Ida, not that type of toy! Get your sluttish mind out of the gutter and act serious. I'm talking about this.” From her purse under the table Sophie retrieved a small, square black box about the size of an answering machine, adorned with a row of colored lights, with a speaker in the middle.
“What's that?” Mavis inquired. “I've never seen anything like it.”
“It's called a ghost box,” Sophie explained, her voice changing as she spoke.
“Exactly what does it do?” Toots asked.
“According to the man who made it, there are different sensors in it that pick up on small changes in the environment around us. Everything from electromagnetic fields to changes in temperature. The processor inside then interprets the changes and calculates a certain word that corresponds to the changes. In essence, a spirit has the ability to manipulate the environment around us, and this device will pick up on the changes and convert them into words so we can hear what the spirit is trying to say. Goebel has a friend who makes them, and he's gotten some great results with them. The hard part is knowing when and where a spirit will be so you'll know when to turn it on. In our case, that's the easy part. We only need to summon a spirit just as we have before, and it will be able to make contact with us through this device.”
“Sounds fishy to me, but then again, two years ago, so did the idea of speaking with the dead, so I guess anything is possible,” Mavis said.
“Let's give it a shot. At worst, nothing will happen. At best, Evangelista Thackeray herself will show up to answer all our questions. Anyway, we're running out of time,” Toots said, glancing at her wristwatch. It had been more than two hours since they left the hospital. She said a prayer that Bernice was holding her own.
“Let's start just like we have in the past. I'll try to channel a spirit's thoughts with the pencil and paper, so if this thing doesn't work, we will not have done this in vain. I'm going to need each of you to clear your mind and focus.”
They held hands, channeling their thoughts together in hopes of reaching the spirit of the woman widely acknowledged to have been the world's most beautiful woman for well over half a century. Who, they hoped, could advise them from beyond on the ins and outs of beauty in the hereafter.
“We come here in peace, seeking to contact the spirit of the late Evangelista Thackeray, in the hope that she will be able to pass her knowledge on to us. If you're listening, Evangelista, we would very much like to speak with you.”
Nothing. The candles shone steadily, the room was utterly still, and the air was warm and muggy. That wasn't good. Cold air always brought forth a spirit. The room was too warm.
Sophie held the pencil in her left hand above the legal pad. She closed her eyes, then began to chant. “Come to me. I mean you no harm. Come to us. Our hearts are open, ready to receive you.” She repeated herself.
Mavis slowly opened her eyes and looked at the legal pad resting underneath Sophie's hand and noticed that there was nothing there. No handwriting, nothing to indicate that Sophie had or would make contact with a spirit.
“I'm starting to sense something. We request the presence of Evangelista Thackeray. If you can hear us, grant us your company and wisdom.” Sophie spoke in her medium/ psychic voice.
Suddenly, a light from the ghost box started to flicker. Sophie looked at the box, her face going completely void of expression and color.
Looking around, Mavis spied the lights on the box toggle on and off, and before she knew what to think, an electronic voice spoke the word “
Actress.

Sophie almost jumped out of her skin. “Are you an actress? Are you Evangelista Thackeray?”
Their eyes opened simultaneously as they heard the word “
Yes”
come from the box.
Sophie drew in another cleansing breath. “Can you answer a question for us?”

No
.”
“If you won't speak with us, then why are you here?”

Murdered.

“Oh my God, not another Thomas,” Ida screamed.
“Shhh! Are you saying the word
murdered
? Are you saying that
you
were murdered?

No ... friend.

BOOK: Deadline
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