Late Edition (10 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Late Edition
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“I would like to propose a toast,” Sophie said.
Each of the five women held her wineglass high in the air.
“To my late husband, Walter. He didn't come through tonight, so I must assume he's rotting in hell as we speak. I don't think there is anything I would enjoy toasting more than his ass roasting on hot coals for eternity.”
All five clinked their glasses together. “To Walter.”
After their first sip, they placed the glasses in front of them. A wine so old, so expensive, must be sipped. While they waited for the wine to warm their insides and tickle their tongues, a foul gush of air blasted through the room, once again causing the glasses of wine to tip over, emptying every last drop on the clothes Mavis had loaned them.
“My dresses! What just happened?” Mavis cried out.
Toots, Ida, Bernice, and Sophie looked down at their borrowed attire. The wine had left deep, blood-colored stains.
“Walter, you asshole! No one else but you would pull a stunt like this. I wouldn't have thought you, of all people, would ever let one drop go to waste. You sicken me! You're a prick in death just like you were in life,” Sophie yelled, her voice laced with anger.
Wind blew across the room, extinguishing the candles and leaving the room in total darkness.
Sophie looked down at her ruined dress. “These clothes look like maxi pads. I think I've proven that I can summon any specific person at will. We're going to have to do this more often. We have the power to solve some of life's greatest mysteries.”
Chapter 14
“A
nd that's my big secret,” Mavis explained. Over breakfast, Mavis revealed what she had been up to for the past several months. She wanted to help lay those to rest who couldn't afford it, but in a dignified manner. When she told the story about Pearl Mae Atkins, the women all cried like babies. Even Sophie's eyes misted over.
“Why didn't you just ask me for the money?” Toots asked. “I would've helped you.”
Mavis blotted at her eyes with a tissue. “I know you would, and I appreciate your offer. But this was something I had to do on my own. I checked my Web site this morning. I have thirty-seven more orders on top of the twenty-three from yesterday. After last night's . . . event, I'm five short. What is even worse, I've run out of material.”
“So can't you just order another bolt of it? I'm pretty handy with a sewing machine, and so is Toots. If these patterns are as easy as you say they are, between the three of us we should be able to fill your orders ASAP,” Ida said.
Mavis shook her head. “That's the problem. Not any old material will do. Because I want my customers to wear these clothes more than once, I invested in the best fabric I could afford. Not to be boastful or anything, but Oscar de la Renta sometimes uses the same supplier.”
“That's pretty darn impressive,” Toots said. “So what are your long-term plans? Do you want to stay Internet only, or have you thought of opening stores?”
“Right now the Internet is my best option. In the future, I wouldn't rule out a small catalog or something of that nature. I want to stay unique, not something that can be found at Sears or JCPenney. Yesterday, when I was visiting Catherine, she offered to sell my designs in her shop, but I told her no. She agrees with me. Good Mourning is a one-of-a-kind idea.”
“Yeah, until someone else picks up on the idea,” Sophie added. “Then you'll find your designs in Wal-Mart, Target, and, if you're really lucky, Walgreens.”
Bernice piped up. “Hey, there is nothing wrong with buying your clothes at Walgreens. See these shoes I'm wearing?” Bernice lifted her foot up in the air. She wore a pair of knockoff Crocs in hot pink. “I paid four ninety-nine for these perfectly good shoes.”
“It's perfectly acceptable to buy a pair of knock-around shoes at Walgreens. I don't think the average grief-stricken consumer looks for a mourning outfit in a drugstore, that's all,” Ida informed them.
“I found a supplier yesterday in North Charleston. It's a warehouse on Meeting Street Road. They're called Jay C. King's. From what I could gather, that area is similar to the fashion district in New York City,” Mavis explained.
“Then what's the problem? We go there, pick up however much fabric, come back here, and sew our asses off. And yes, I do know how to sew,” Sophie informed them.
“I wish it were that easy. I learned from Catherine that there is no way they would sell to me because I only need a few bolts of fabric. This warehouse only sells orders in bulk, and even if they did sell small orders, you have to have an account with them to even think about buying from them. They're top of the line,” Mavis said.
“You're positive they wouldn't sell anything to you?” Toots asked.
“Absolutely. Catherine told me they actually have guards, and a security system to rival that of Fort Knox.”
Toots appeared deep in thought. “What if we didn't actually buy the material from them? What's stopping us from going into the place at night and taking it? I honestly doubt they would miss a few bolts of fabric.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized how insane, how totally off the wall she sounded.
“You've got to be kidding. You're talking about
stealing?
Catherine said they have a steel door with a lock that not even a bulldozer could push. The lock itself, according to Catherine, is six inches of hardened steel. I don't think our fragile hands have the ability to bend that kind of steel even if we did eat our spinach,” Mavis said laughingly.
“Apparently you and Catherine had quite a conversation,” Toots said.
Bernice poured a fresh round of coffee, and Sophie removed a coffee cake from the oven. Once their necessities were replenished, the two women sat back down to resume their conversation with the others.
“Seriously, stealing is out of the question. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I just love what I'm doing, but I have to be realistic. The supply-and-demand issue . . . Well, everything is happening faster than I anticipated, which I suppose is a good thing if I were better prepared.”
“Success is always unexpected, Mavis. Let me call Henry Whitmore at the bank. If this warehouse is as exclusive as you're saying, I would bet my last dollar Henry knows who they are. I'll see if I can pull a few strings, if you want me to,” Toots offered.
In a sweet voice, Mavis said, “I hate to ask. You already have enough to do.”
“And that's what keeps me going. That's what makes me happy,” Toots said.
Mavis was right. Toots did have enough to do, but doing was what kept her alive. Sitting around twiddling her thumbs was not in her nature. Staying busy, enjoying her life, her daughter, and her dearest friends, now that was embedded deep in her DNA. And when she could, helping those in need made her happy. She would be the first to admit that she liked the finer things in life, but she would also tell you that material things could be replaced, people couldn't.
“I'll go upstairs and make that call,” Toots said, getting up from the table.
“And don't forget to call Dr. Pauley. Remember, he wants to check Mavis,” Bernice added as Toots headed upstairs.
Toots gave Bernice the thumbs-up.
Upstairs in the privacy of her room, she looked up Henry Whitmore's home phone number, then Dr. Pauley's. Deciding Mavis's fabric issue was the more important one, she located Henry's number first.
Toots glanced at her watch before making the call. She wanted to make sure it wasn't too early for a business call. They'd all had a late night last night finishing off Sophie's sixty-year-old bottle of wine. It was fifteen minutes after nine. Late in the business world, but she knew for a fact that Henry seldom arrived at the bank before ten. She punched in his number, anyway, and he answered on the third ring.
“Don't tell me you decided to back out of the bakery deal. I was just about to call your new friend, Jamie,” Henry said.
“Good morning to you, too, and no, I'm not backing out of the bakery deal. I need a favor,” Toots explained.
“What now? Don't tell me you have invested in another business venture. I know you have millions in this bank. But if your spending continues, your accounts are going to shift into the six-digit mode.”
If Henry weren't such a good friend, Toots wouldn't have allowed him to speak to her in such a manner. But he was, and it was okay.
“No, I'm not investing in another business, but I need a favor, and it's a very important one. And if you can help me out, I'll keep my millions in your bank until they throw dirt on my face,” Toots said.
“Tell me what you need, and I'll see what I can do, though I can't make any promises,” Henry said.
“There's a factory, rather a warehouse, in North Charleston, on Meeting Street Road. I need to set up a business account ASAP. Mavis needs several bolts of material for a new line of clothing she's working on, and they're the only place in town that has what she needs.” Toots paused.
“You're talking about Jay C. King's? Am I right?”
“You guessed right. Now, what I need from you is this.” Toots gave him all the details Mavis had given her. As luck would have it, Henry was golfing buddies with Mr. King. He'd call him immediately; he told her that King owed him a favor. And he didn't fail to remind her that she would owe him one more favor after this.
Dr. Joseph Pauley had been Toots's personal physician for over twenty years. He was in his midseventies but passed for sixty. With a full head of white hair, clear blue eyes, at least six feet tall, and without an ounce of body fat on him, he was extremely handsome, and he was also kind and decent. Joe was “good people.”
When Mavis had come to Charleston last year, it was Dr. Pauley who gave her the clean bill of health and the warning about her weight that had set her on the road she now walked. Toots couldn't wait for him to see Mavis. She seriously doubted he would recognize her. Joe was single; he might even want to date Mavis. She had a quick flash of the pair as a couple. It didn't seem plausible, but one never knew.
His receptionist answered the phone, and Toots chatted with her for a few minutes before scheduling an appointment for Mavis for the following afternoon. She knew this was simply a formality. Once Joe knew she'd called, he would return the call and more than likely come to her house, as he had before, to examine Mavis.
She replaced the phone and mentally checked these items off her shit-to-do list.
Toots raced downstairs, where the girls were still seated around the table in their pajamas, drinking coffee and laughing.
“Mavis, Dr. Pauley will probably be here this evening to examine you. I scheduled an appointment for Wednesday morning, but as soon as Joe learns it's you, I'm sure he'll just stop by the house for a brief examination. I can't wait for him to see how far you've come in the last year. And Henry from the bank just so happens to be golfing buddies with your Mr. King. He said he would do his best to set up an account for you so that you can purchase the material you need.”
Toots felt like a fairy godmother when she delivered the good news.
Mavis's eyes sparkled with excitement. “I don't know how I can thank you. You've already changed my life so much as it is.” Mavis stood up, walked to the other side of the table, and gave her dear friend a hug.
“Don't thank me just yet. He said he would try his best,” Toots claimed, then looked at her watch. “I've got several business-related matters on my agenda today. What about the rest of you? Any plans?”
Toots made a quick mental note to ask Pete to get her three sewing machines out of storage and fix whatever needed fixing so Mavis's orders could be filled without too much of a delay. It was times like this that Toots wished for the old days, when people didn't expect things to arrive in the mail a day after they'd ordered them.
Ida spoke up. “I'm going to see about taking a driving test so I can get my driver's license. I really enjoyed getting behind the wheel of your car yesterday.”
Toots looked as though she had been slapped in the face. “Are you telling me you don't have a driver's license?”
“I never had to drive in New York City. Thomas always had a limousine at my disposal, and of course, there were always those nasty taxicabs. So to answer your question, no, I've never had a driver's license, but I plan to change that, starting today.”
Sophie pounced on that like a cat on a fish. “You're joking, right? Are you telling us that at sixty-odd years of age, you've never had a driver's license? Remember, I lived in New York City, too, though I never had a limousine at my disposal. I did take a few taxi rides, and I practically lived on the subway. Hell, I didn't even own a vehicle, yet I had a driver's license. I bet they won't even issue a license to someone your age, especially a first timer. And you actually drove yesterday?”
Sophie shook her head, bewildered that Ida had the balls to get behind the wheel of a car without a license. Yet in another sense she was kind of proud of her for taking the initiative to try something new, something she'd never dared before.
“Mavis wouldn't let me drive all of the way home,” Ida stated.
“That's because I still value my life,” Mavis informed the rest of them.
“Maybe she wants to hurry up and join Thomas, find out who killed him,” Sophie added.
“I'm sure your face must be next to the word
tactless
in the dictionary,” Toots responded to Sophie's barb.
Almost absentmindedly, Sophie flipped her the bird yet continued to get her digs in. “She could've killed someone, right, Mavis?”
Ida remained silent while Sophie verbally reprimanded her.
Coco, the queen of all dogs, yapped from her palace in the corner. Mavis hurried to the pooch's side, where she picked her up and brought her back to the table. “I think it might be wise to invest in some driving lessons before you even attempt to get your license. She did give me quite a scare yesterday as we were coming back from town. Just look at it as an adventure, right, Toots? Though I guess you should ask how long we're going to remain here in Charleston before you attempt to arrange for lessons,” Mavis said to Ida.
They all focused their attention on Toots, their unofficial leader. “As I said before, there is no time limit or any immediate plan to race back to LA. As long as Abby is safe, and the paper is running smoothly, we can stay here in Charleston for as long as we want,” Toots assured them. “Anyway, I'm sure Bernice loves our company.”

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