Deadline (12 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
At the end of the dark hallway was a door leading downstairs to the area where embalming and dressing took place. Ida grimaced at the iron odor that assaulted her. The room was like a crypt. Cold and lifeless. When she was working, she tended to forget about the total morbidness of her surroundings. She did her best to make the deceased as presentable to the public as one could, under the circumstances.
Two marble tables, stark and barren, stood in the center of the white-tiled room. A single showerhead, used to clean the occasional toxic mess, hung from the ceiling. One of the tables held a body, with a white sheet draped over the deceased. The sheet appeared to have something beneath it, causing the center to rise slightly above the rest of the body.
“This is M-M-Mr. Frank. His viewing is s-s-scheduled for tomorrow a-a-afternoon.”
Ida placed her case of cosmetics on the floor next to the drain where body fluids were disposed of. Two years ago, she would've been on the table herself, her fear of germs killing her. Mavis hung the charcoal gray suit on a hook on the back of the door, where a white jacket hung lifelessly, like the body on the marble slab.
“I'll j-j-just leave you to take c-c-care of M-m-mr. Frank,” Mr. Higginbotham said. “I'll be upstairs if you need me.” Without giving either a chance to respond, he hurried up the stairs.
Mr. Frank's body had been prepared at the hospital morgue. His skin had been scrubbed clean, his hair shampooed and conditioned. All the bodily fluids had been flushed away into some secret foul place that existed in the bowels of the hospital.
Mavis watched as Ida prepared her table, using a rolling metal tray like those used in the hospital. Mavis would assist her, then together they would arrange the specially designed suit. “I don't have a photograph, so I'm hoping this man doesn't need any stuffing,” Ida said. They wouldn't remove the white sheet until she had all of her cosmetics, sponges, and brushes readied.
“That's so crude, Ida. He must've been a sad soul to do this to himself.” Mavis's eyes filled with tears, something she did every time they had a laying-out to perform. She was softhearted, truly grieving for those who had passed.
“I don't mean to be crude, I just don't like it when I have to ... patch them up,” Ida said as she straightened her set of brushes.
“I'm sure we can cover his ... wounds with the shirt's collar. I might have to make a few adjustments. So”âMavis took a deep breathâ“are we ready?”
Ida scanned her tray. All of her tools were where they needed to be. She had several shades of face makeup and powders lined neatly in a row. “Yes, I'm ready. Time to work our magic.”
Mavis stood at the end of the marble table. Ida was on the right side, positioned in the middle near the corpse's stomach. She reached up and carefully pulled the white sheet off the lifeless figure. Dropping the sheet on the floor, Ida looked at the man, and screamed, “He's alive!”
Chapter 12
A
t loose ends while they waited for news of Chris, Toots and Abby took the dogs for an evening stroll on the beach.
t loose ends while they waited for news of Chris, Toots and Abby took the dogs for an evening stroll on the beach.
Foaming waves rolled against the shoreline. Coco and Chester were in doggie heaven, each taking turns running to the edge of the water, sniffing around, then returning to walk alongside their human escorts. Both women were quiet, allowing the gentle, rolling sound of the ocean waves to soothe their frayed nerves. Lights from the assorted houses dotted the beachside. An occasional burst of laughter, mingled with varied accents, could be heard off in the distance.
Toots discovered they'd wandered farther down the beach than she had thought. “Let's head back now. Everyone should be returning soon. I hope Goebel or Sophie have some good news. I could certainly use some.”
Abby called for Chester and Coco, who were frolicking in the sand about ten yards farther down the beach, but didn't bother putting their leashes back on. They knew the routine.
“Me too. I'm still at a complete loss. Chris just doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would take off without telling anyone. I know he likes his privacy, but this isn't normal. Tell me this, Mom, and don't sugarcoat it for my sake. Do you believe Chris could be involved in Laura Leigh's disappearance?”
Toots walked beside Abby, taking a minute to consider her question. She'd raised Chris since he was in his early teens. She'd been more than a bit surprised when he'd welcomed her with open arms as his stepmother. He'd lost his mother, and was thrilled when she and Garland married. He had never exhibited any disturbing behavior as a young boy. He made fantastic grades in school, never took up with a bad crowd, his friends were all decent, all with goals and ambitions and parents who cared. She and Garland had been very involved in their children's lives. Surely, if Chris had suffered from some mental disorder, something that could explain his possible involvement in the young woman's disappearance, she would've spotted it. She'd been around the block a time or two, knew what was normal behavior and what wasn't. Toots was positive Chris had not gone off the deep end. There had to be a plausible explanation for his apparent disappearance. Probably not a simple one, but plausible. They would have to be patient and wait. If Chris thought she and Abby were having this kind of discussion, he would be terribly hurt. No, Toots did not believe for even a second that Chris was in any way involved in Laura Leigh's disappearance.
“I just don't see him wrapped up in something so ... torrid. To answer your question, I am one hundred percent sure Chris has nothing to do with Laura and the fact that she's missing.”
Abby shook her head. “I wish I felt that way, too, but I don't. That's not to say I think he's ...
harmed
Laura, but it's just too much of a coincidence for me to believe he isn't with her. They could be shacked up somewhere, who knows? Maybe they went to Vegas and got married. There are so many possibilities, they're endless.” She said the last words quickly, her heart squeezing with each word.
harmed
Laura, but it's just too much of a coincidence for me to believe he isn't with her. They could be shacked up somewhere, who knows? Maybe they went to Vegas and got married. There are so many possibilities, they're endless.” She said the last words quickly, her heart squeezing with each word.
Toots reached for Abby's hand. “I hope you're wrong.” She paused. “Look, Abby, I know your feelings for Chris are more than friendly.”
“Mom, let's not go there,” Abby said, though she couldn't deny her feelings.
“Why not? I love you and Chris. You have my seal of approval. You didn't grow up together. You barely knew each other. Besides, I can see the way you two are when you're together. It's obvious you're both head over heels in love, so why not acknowledge it and accept it for what it is?”
“If it were that simple, trust me, I would. But it's not. Chris hasn't ... I haven't ... neither of us has admitted what we feel. I'm not sure I could at this point.”
They continued to walk, their pace unhurried. Toots wanted Abby to experience the kind of love Toots had felt for Abby's father. If Abby wasn't convinced Chris was the love of her life, then so be it. After eight marriages, Toots felt she was in the position to offer her daughter sound advice. “You will know if he's the right one. It's simple advice, but it is what it is. When I met your father, I fell in love on our second date.” Toots smiled at the memory. She and John had met on a blind date, hitting it off immediately. On their second, she knew he was going to play a very important role in her life. And he had. She'd had a perfect marriage, it just hadn't lasted long enough.
Only the good die young
, she thought, as she reminisced about Abby's father.
Only the good die young
, she thought, as she reminisced about Abby's father.
“Let's get through this first. If Chris is the man I think he is, he'll have a perfectly sensible explanation.”
“At this point, I don't think any explanation will be âperfectly sensible.' It's been too long. If he knows what's happening, he should've called. If he hasn't, I'm thinking he ...” Abby paused. She didn't know what she was thinking. “I know something is wrong, Mom. I just know it. I can feel it in my gut.”
“Of course. That's obvious. This isn't like the Chris we all know and love,” Toots said.
“Maybe we don't know him as well as we thought. He's been in LA for a long time. People change. This is a totally different place from Charleston. Maybe Chris is being the person he thinks the world expects him to be,” Abby suggested.
Toots considered her daughter's words. As much as she hated to disagree with Abby, she felt Chris was exactly the man he appeared to be. Just like his father. “I think you're wrong, Abby, but time will tell.”
Lights from the deck shone in the distance, indicating the beach house wasn't far away. “I hope so,” was all Abby could say.
Coco and Chester smelled home, and took off running, Chester stopping twice just to make sure Coco kept up with him. The two animals were madly in love. Abby could not help but smile. If only life were as simple for humans as it was for dogs.
“I'm sure Goebel will come up with something. He's the best, according to Chris. He knows Chris; maybe he has something up his sleeve.” They walked up the steps leading to the deck where Coco and Chester sat panting. “I need to enlarge the doggie door for Chester,” Toots announced as an afterthought. They'd had a small one installed for Queen Coco, but Toots hadn't so much as considered Chester when she'd chosen the dimensions.
“He's fine, Mom,” Abby said. “I'll get them some fresh water. I know you want to smoke one of those icky cigarettes.”
Toots smiled. Her Marlboros and lighter lay on the table next to the seashell ashtray. “I just need a puff or two. Why don't you start a pot of coffee? I'm sure Goebel and the girls will want some when they return.”
Toots looked at her watch. The others had been gone almost two hours already. She knew it would take Ida and Mavis at least three hours to prepare the body, and who knew how long it would take Sophie to make contact with the netherworld?
Sitting in her favorite deck chair, Toots lit up, and sucked the smoke into her lungs as if it were oxygen and she had just spent a minute underwater. She really wanted to quit, and someday she would. But it was not going to be that day. Or the next. When they located Chris and the missing girl, well then she might consider it. Maybe she would invest in one of those newfangled electronic cigarettes. They were all the rageâeven though they seemed to carry some health risks, too.
Crushing her smoke out, she entered through the sliding glass door. Abby had busied herself making coffee, while Chester and Coco were curled up, side by side, in their favorite corner. Toots grabbed the remote and clicked on the television to the local news station that had been reporting on Laura Leigh's disappearance. The slick-lipped reporter she disliked filled the small screen.
Abby looked over her shoulder. “Mom, let's not listen to that crap she reports. We're lucky if one-tenth of what she reports is true.”
“So far she's been on the money, Abs.”
“Then it's the first time. She sends the reporters out and doesn't check their accuracy half the time. I can't believe the station allows her to report a quarter of the stuff she reads from the teleprompter. She doesn't even write her own copy most of the time.”
Toots ignored her daughter. As she heard the reporter's words, she raised the volume.
“
Los Angeles police are currently searching the Toyota Camry owned by Los Angeles entertainment attorney Christopher Clay. Our sources tell us the vehicle is being thoroughly checked for trace evidence such as hairs, fibers, and possibly blood. If any blood evidence is found, it is highly possible Miss Laura Leigh is the victim of foul play. While Mr. Clay has not been named a suspect, one would assume, if evidence is found in his vehicle, he will be upgraded from a person of interest. Mr. Clay's mechanic called the Los Angeles Police Department after a BOLOâbe on the lookoutâfor his vehicle was issued. The auto repair shop owner, David Williams of Poor Man's, said Mr. Clay's vehicle had been towed into the shop the same day Miss Leigh was reported missing.
”
Los Angeles police are currently searching the Toyota Camry owned by Los Angeles entertainment attorney Christopher Clay. Our sources tell us the vehicle is being thoroughly checked for trace evidence such as hairs, fibers, and possibly blood. If any blood evidence is found, it is highly possible Miss Laura Leigh is the victim of foul play. While Mr. Clay has not been named a suspect, one would assume, if evidence is found in his vehicle, he will be upgraded from a person of interest. Mr. Clay's mechanic called the Los Angeles Police Department after a BOLOâbe on the lookoutâfor his vehicle was issued. The auto repair shop owner, David Williams of Poor Man's, said Mr. Clay's vehicle had been towed into the shop the same day Miss Leigh was reported missing.
”
Toots clicked the television off. “That bitch! She's ruining Chris's name before he's had a chance to defend himself. I think I will call the station and raise hell.”
Abby brought two cups of coffee to the table, then removed the half-and-half from the fridge. “Don't waste your time, Mom. It won't do the slightest bit of good. People report her all the time. I'm sure she's sleeping with the owner of the station, so until that goes sour, it's useless.”
“Then I'll file a slander suit against the station. I bet the owner won't hesitate to toss her out on her lipsticked ass then,” Toots said indignantly.
“He's like Rag. When he feels things are beginning to heat up, and he displayed in a negative light, he'll toss Miss Chloe Brown out on her ass and hire another siliconed sweetheart to take her place.”
Toots had a flash of buying the station. She'd hire her own team of news anchors, and they wouldn't be twenty-something bimbos. Something to think about later. She already had her hands full with
The Informer
and The Sweetest Thing, the bakery in Charleston she was half owner of. Not to mention running two households, and participating in Sophie's séances when the need arose. And her charities.
The Informer
and The Sweetest Thing, the bakery in Charleston she was half owner of. Not to mention running two households, and participating in Sophie's séances when the need arose. And her charities.
She had neglected participating in events the past couple years, but she continued to donate hefty sums of money to all. No, buying a television station wasn't a good move. At least not now, though she would give serious thought to it in the future. Something for Abby's future. Who knew,
The Informer
could go global, be the next
Entertainment Tonight.
Becoming a female version of Ted Turner would be quite a coup.
The Informer
could go global, be the next
Entertainment Tonight.
Becoming a female version of Ted Turner would be quite a coup.
“And we thought KABC was the cream of the local crop,” Toots added.
“It's okay, I watch it, too; I just know which reporter to listen to. Miss Chloe Brown gets all the hot stories because she's screwing the boss. Helen Woods is on the money. She does the eleven o'clock news.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” Toots sat at the table thinking a million different thoughts, none of them good.
Coco and Chester growled, their ears at attention. Both canines ran to the front door.
“That must be Goebel. It's still too early for the girls to return.” Abby crossed her fingers, hoping he had something positive to report. A loud knock sounded on the front door, and the dogs went wild.
“Hey, you two, calm down,” Abby warned. “I'll get it, Mom.” She hurried to the front door.
It was indeed Goebel. Inside, he leaned over to scratch both dogs between the ears, and they followed him to the kitchen.
Her mind a zillion miles away, Toots practically jumped out of her chair when he entered the kitchen. She placed a hand over her thumping heart. “Did you find anything?”
Goebel pulled out a chair. Abby poured him a cup of coffee, refilled her own cup, then sat down, waiting, hoping he'd found something,
anything
that would explain the insane nightmare.
anything
that would explain the insane nightmare.
He took a sip of coffee before answering. “No, and that's what's bothering me. I have a pal down at the police station, who owed me a favor from way back when. I called him as soon as I knew I was headed out West. According to what he said, they've gone over Chris's car with a fine-toothed comb, said it was a priority. And to quote him, âThey don't have jack shit,' ” Goebel said with a gleam in his eyes.
“The news is reporting just the opposite.” Toots repeated what the bimbo news anchor had reported.
“I don't think so. They've got every forensic specialist available examining that car. They haven't found anything suspicious, unless you call several wrappers from Pink's Hot Dogs evidence.”
Abby's heart flip-flopped.
So Chris was hanging out at Pink's now?
So Chris was hanging out at Pink's now?
Stunned, Toots remarked, “That's it?”
“So far,” Goebel said. “If you want my opinion, I think Chris and this little starlet are hiding away somewhere and don't want to be disturbed. From what I understand, Miss Leigh is very easy on the eyes.”
Abby's heart flip-flopped again, then plummeted to her feet and back up. She was sure she felt an actual pain in her chest. Fearing Goebel was probably right, she gave up hope that anything would ever happen between her and Chris. When this was over, she would give serious thought to relocating. Suddenly, Charleston didn't seem all that bad.
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