Late Edition (3 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

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“You certainly remind me often enough,” Ida snapped back.
“I'm not the one who's always doing the reminding, if memory serves me correctly,” Toots said. If they all lived to the ripe old age of one hundred, Ida would still remind Toots of this so-called indiscretion that had happened so many years ago. Toots and Jerry had shared a brief marriage; then he'd kicked the bucket. He'd been husband number five or six. After eight marriages, it was hard to name them in numerical order. Someday she would do so. She'd match up all her marriage certificates with the death certificates. Maybe she would start a scrapbook. Scrapbooking seemed to be all the rage these days. At least she could claim she'd never been divorced.
“Stop it, both of you. I'm sick of hearing about Jerry. If my memory serves me correctly, and we all know I have the memory of an elephant, Toots said he was a dud in the sack, as well. So, once and for all, Ida, why don't you thank Toots for the favor and be done with it.”
Uncharacteristically, Ida flipped Sophie the single-digit salute. The three of them burst out laughing, which eased the tension immediately. They laughed until tears streamed down their faces. Exhausted from their unexpected hysterics, the trio suddenly became quiet. The only sounds were the occasional cry from a seagull and the noise of the ocean as its waves caressed the dampened, bone-colored sand. A mild breeze carried the scent of wood smoke, doubtlessly left over from a beach bonfire the night before.
Ida looked Sophie directly in the face, her tone as serious as ever. “Can you explain what happened last night? I . . . I don't know when I've been so frightened.”
Sophie glanced at Toots, who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, as if saying she hadn't a clue how to answer.
“You saw Thomas's ghost. What's to explain?” Sophie asked.
Exasperated, Ida threw her hands up in the air. “And you think I'm just supposed to accept that like it's . . . like it's
normal?
”
“I'm afraid I must agree with Ida. Seeing all those famous stars is one thing. Seeing people we know, especially our dead spouses, well, that's a bit much if you ask me.”
“I didn't ask. I don't know what's got your panties in a knot. You didn't see any of your dead husbands,” Sophie singsonged. “Yet.”
“
Yet
is the right word. Where is this leading? Are we so bored that we have nothing better to do than stir up a bunch of unnecessary trouble just to entertain ourselves?”
Sophie considered her question. “Yes, I think that's exactly what's going on. We're bored, but we've found a way to entertain ourselves. We aren't hurting anyone.” Sophie paused then, considering her words. “Except ourselves, and we're all okay, aren't we?” she challenged.
“When put that way, I suppose we are. But what if, what if we've opened a portal that's not supposed to be opened?” Toots asked. “As in a portal to hell?”
Sophie lit another cigarette, inhaled, then blew out the smoke like Puff, the Magic Dragon. “If that's the case, then we're screwed.”
Chapter 2
L
ater that evening, they all scrambled around the table in the newly remodeled kitchen, ready to dig into the piping hot pepperoni pizza that Giorgio's, their new favorite pizza joint, had just delivered. Mavis, still as pleasant as ever, had set the table as she normally did, with the everyday dinnerware, forks, knives, and royal blue cloth napkins. Apparently she'd forgiven Sophie her morning's indiscretion. It was apparent Ida had spent the afternoon napping, as her under-eye circles were gone, and her hair was smoothed to perfection. She had changed into a pair of black slacks and a pearl-colored top and appeared more herself. Toots had spent the afternoon proofreading an article for
The Informer.
Sophie had prepared for the evening's scheduled séance. She'd set up the video and voice recorders just in case.
They had just learned that the jury had reached a verdict in the trial of the State of California versus Patel Yadav, Mohammed Dasgupta, and Amala Malik, the trio charged with identity theft, fraud, and numerous other crimes. Ida had had the misfortune of getting involved with Patel, who'd posed as Dr. Benjamin Sameer, medical director at the Center for Mind and Body. He'd almost bilked her out of three million dollars, but fortunately, or unfortunately, depending upon how you looked at it, Ida had caught the charlatan in the act of sniffing her racy red and black panties. She'd stopped the financial transaction in the nick of time. The case was being covered on truTV, and now there was a verdict.
Toots positioned the small television set where they all had a bird's-eye view. She bumped the volume up several notches before sitting down at the table.
“You should've used the paper plates, Mavis. This is just more dishes to wash,” Toots complained as she reached for a generous slice of the cheesy pizza with large pieces of pepperoni. Tonight, they couldn't wait to clog their arteries.
“Oh, I don't mind,” Mavis said sweetly. “Gives me something to do. I'll need to work off this meal, anyway.”
“One slice won't ruin your svelte figure. Let's listen,” Ida said, nodding toward the TV set.
With an evil grin that lit up her dark brown eyes like a bottle of good whiskey, Sophie said, “Yeah, I can't wait to see Ida's lover on the news.”
Toots reached for her royal blue napkin. “Enough! You can't keep your nastiness to yourself, can you? This case is already a joke as it is. What's your take on it, Ida?”
Ida, always trying to play the role of elegant lady of the manor, dotted her mouth with her napkin and placed it on her lap before speaking. “I think that dirty old man deserves to be laughed at. I hope they give all three of them the maximum sentence. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. And to think, I thought he was a gentleman.”
Ida sliced a piece of pizza on her plate and shook her head. “I can't believe I had to tell that old prosecutor about the panty incident. Personally, I think it gave her a cheap thrill of sorts.”
Sophie, never one to miss an opportunity to add her two cents' worth, said, “I think she has a crush on you, Ida. She's about your age. Maybe after this, you'll learn your lesson. Ever think about crossing over to the other side?”
Toots shot Sophie a killer look. “You're so ugly, I swear. It should've been you instead of Ida that caught that pervert sniffing all those undergarments.”
“Never would've happened. I'm not quite the rounder as Ida. I can go without a man.”
“Then maybe you're interested in Ms. Goldstein yourself,” Ida said, lifting her perfectly sculpted brow but smiling as she did so. Ms. Goldstein was the district attorney responsible for trying the case against the three con artists.
“Kiss off, Ida,” Sophie snapped back.
Mavis took a deep breath. “Can you girls ever speak to one another nicely? I don't think we've ever had a conversation that didn't involve one of you talking mean or hateful to the other. I think all of you are very disrespectful to one another.”
“We are,” Toots said. “But I wouldn't want it any other way. It's all in fun, and as far as I'm concerned, none of us mean to hurt one another. That ramrod-straight Leland had a fit when the word
shit
came out of my mouth. He used to call me potty mouth. I'm so glad I planted him, God rest his cheap soul.”
As was the norm, they all cracked up laughing, even Miss Prim-and-Proper Ida. Mavis just shook her head. “Well, it was just a thought. A passing one.”
For the next few minutes they gorged on pizza and drank a good bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from a local winery.
They all focused their attention on the TV. When the snazzy, pink-lipped reporter's face filled the screen, Mavis bellowed, “She's the one I watch on the news every night,” as if that were the grandest thing in the world. Of course the local news media would be covering the trial. Los Angeles loved a trial, especially one that involved a panty sniffer posing as a doctor who happened to cure a very wealthy woman of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
“Shhh,” Sophie called out. “Let's listen to what she has to say.”
“Dominating tonight's news, a case that has held Californians captive for weeks. Patel Yadav and his two partners in crime, Mohammed Dasgupta, who has been referred to as Patel Yadav's adopted son, and Amala Malik, who had a romantic relationship with Mohammed, were all present in the courtroom today as they faced a jury of their peers. After a two-week trial, the three were found guilty on all counts in the indictment. The sentencing hearing has been scheduled for next week.”
The news anchor said a few more words about the trial, and Toots couldn't help but notice how her eyes sparkled when she mentioned that Patel had also been caught with a drawerful of female undergarments. She implied he'd had a thing for them, yet didn't elaborate on exactly what kind of thing. Maybe the reporter would do a feature on men and the “things” that turned them on. Give the male species another kick in the pants. Men. They were true creatures of habit. Perverted old bastards.
Mavis grimaced at the reporter's apparent delight in her subject matter.
Sophie gaped at Ida, a sly grin causing the corners of her eyes to appear to spread out like a fan. “I remember the day you came home from the pervert's place, or, to be more precise, the real Dr. Sameer's house. You said something about there was more to the story. Something about telling us later. Do you recall saying that?” Sophie questioned Ida as though she were a government agent contemplating using enhanced interrogation techniques.
Ida's eyes bulged. “Sophie, has anyone ever told you that you have no class or manners?” Ida held a hand out in front of her. “Don't answer that. Of course they have. I'm sure I have. You're nosy, too.” Ida tilted her chin up a notch.
“Toots, don't you remember Ida telling us there was more to this story? That someday she might tell us? I have a pretty good memory. I know that's what she said.”
Toots wiped a string of cheese off her plate with a fingertip. “Well, it does seem like there was more to the story, I agree. But I'm not sure I even want to know what it is. I might get sick or something.” Toots's last words were drawn out, her acquired Southern drawl even more pronounced than normal.
Enjoying the attention, Ida cast an evil grin at Sophie. “How much is it worth to you?”
As Toots threw her head back and roared with laughter, Mavis reached down for Coco, who'd been hovering at her heels. Sophie waved both of her middle fingers out in front of her as if they were the answer for everything. More laughter.
“I wouldn't give you jack, Ida. You should know better than that. I'm saving my five million dollars for something worthwhile. Your
sex
-apades aren't worth it. I'm betting even
The Enquirer
wouldn't give you an Indian nickel. It's not like you're famous or anything.”
Ida took a deep breath. “If you're all so concerned—no, if you're all that
nosy
—I guess I'd better tell you what happened firsthand,” Ida said. “So you'll get the truth the first time. I'm sure any paper would love to get their hands on this story. So now, before I reveal anything, I need each of you to promise me something.” Ida glared at the three of them.
Their heads bobbed up and down like apples in a tub of water.
“And just like we've been doing since seventh grade, I want you to seal this with our secret handshake. Is it a deal or not?” Ida asked, her tone more serious than it had been minutes before.
One by one, each woman placed a hand on top of Ida's. When the four hands were placed on top of each other, they tossed them high in the air, shouting, “When you're good, you're good.”
“Now that you have our sworn secrecy, it's time to spill the beans,” Sophie announced.
“All right. As you all may recall, I was quite upset when the taxi dropped me off that day. I tell you, I was in utter shock! That man took me for an idiot, but thank goodness I came to my senses,” Ida said before getting to the really juicy details she'd promised.
“Okay, so you were in shock. Now tell us what actually happened,” Sophie insisted.
Mavis adjusted Coco on her newly slender lap, Toots refilled their wineglasses with the last of the Cabernet Sauvignon, and Sophie drummed her fingers across the tabletop. Ida was queen of the moment.
“Well, you all know what I caught him doing. That much is public knowledge. At least no one can accuse me of wearing granny panties.”
“Didn't he steal and sniff those lacy red and black ones you found in his pile of lingerie?” Sophie questioned, a huge grin on her face.
“Yes, they were red and black, and before you ask, they were clean.”
Sophie smiled, sneering. “So Patel must've been disappointed when he realized you hadn't left your . . . scent behind.”
“Ugh, that's enough, Sophie! We don't need to know that,” Mavis said.
“She's right. Be quiet, Sophie, so Ida can finish the story. I don't want to spend the rest of the night discussing this sick, perverted man,” Toots said.
“Sure you do,” Sophie teased. “Okay, finish the story so Toots's virgin ears won't fall off.”
Toots gave Sophie the finger.
“I'd been so upset the night before, at dinner. I assumed Sammy, uh . . . Patel was going to propose. He'd laid the foundation. What was I supposed to think? I thought we were going out for a romantic dinner. Then we wound up at the house.”
Impatiently, Toots spoke up. “We know all that. Just tell us what you were so ashamed of.”
“You're almost as bad as she is,” Ida complained, nodding toward Sophie. “I remembered calling Russ, my banker, asking him to transfer three million dollars. That should have been a warning sign, but I wasn't listening with my brain.”
“When do you ever?” Sophie interjected.
“Shut up! For Pete's sake, you're the one who wanted to hear this personal story so badly. Yet you can't keep your mouth closed for more than three seconds. Go on, Ida. I'll jap-slap her if she interrupts you again,” Toots threatened.
“Thank you,” Ida replied. “I should've known something was off when I asked for his banking information and he had it written out on a slip of paper ready in his pocket, as if he knew I was going to lend him the money. I remember being a bit disappointed when he accepted my offer. Of course, in hindsight, I know that was my instincts trying to tell me something, but I was too enamored of that idiot to listen.
“Once I got over the initial shock of seeing
him
”—Ida shook her head, disgusted—“sniffing his collection of unmentionables, I ran back into his bedroom. I remember being shocked and so thirsty I could've drunk an entire gallon of water. I was trying to gather myself, decide what to do next, when Sammy, Patel, whatever he calls himself, came into the room. He called out my name. I recall thinking I was screwed.” Ida smiled at the expressions on her friends' faces as they cottoned to her play on words, then, chuckling to herself, continued with her story.
“When I came out of the bathroom, he was lying on the bed, naked as a newborn babe. The next thing I saw . . . was his
thing.
He'd been fondling himself.” Ida had the good grace to blush.
Laughter bubbled up from the three women.
“What came next?” Sophie questioned. “Get it?” she added.
Ida shot her a twisted smile. “Do you want to hear the rest or not? If you continue to interrupt me, I'm not going to finish the story.”
“Leave her alone, Sophie. This is starting to get really good,” Toots said.
Ida resumed her tale. “It was obvious he'd been vigorously entertaining himself while I was in the bathroom. Looking back, I'm sure it was the panty sniffing that got him all hot and bothered, certainly not anticipation at being with me. As soon as he saw me, he told me to undress . . . and, of course, I did. I stripped down. Fortunately, I only got as far as my bra and panties. I . . . oh, this is so embarrassing.” Ida paused, her humiliation no longer as funny as it seemed a minute ago.

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