Spirited Away
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The Godmothers: Spirited Away
Fern Michaels
KENSINGTON BOOKS
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Table of Contents
Books by Fern Michaels:
Title Page
Copyright Page
Cast of Characters
The Story So Far . . .
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
GETAWAY Teaser
Dabney House Chicken Salad
A Family Affair
Late Edition
Crash and Burn
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Fern Michaels
Fern Michaels is a registered trademark of KAP5, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Kensington and Kensington logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
First Electronic Edition: May 2017
ISBN: 978-1-4967-1207-3
Cast of Characters
The Godmothers
Toots
Sophie
Mavis
Ida
Four lifelong friends who first met in junior high school. Sophie, Mavis, and Ida all serve as godmothers to Toots’s daughter Abby. After an extended stint on the West Coast, they have returned to South Carolina.
Family, Friends, and Significant Others
Abby—Toots’s daughter. Reporter and former editor-in-chief of the Informer.
Chris—Abby’s husband and father of their twins, Amy and Jonathan.
Phil—Toots’s boyfriend, a doctor and upcoming novelist.
Goebel—Sophie’s second husband, a retired New York City police officer.
Bernice—Toots’s friend.
Daniel—Bernice’s son and Ida’s boyfriend, an attorney.
Robert—Bernice’s boyfriend and Toots’s neighbor.
Wade—Mavis’s boyfriend and co-owner of their funeral parlor.
Animal Friends
Frankie—Toots’s dachshund.
Chester—Abby and Chris’s German shepherd.
Coco—Mavis’s Chihuahua.
The Story So Far . . .
The best of friends, Toots, Ida, Mavis, and Sophie have been there for each other through thick and thin, ever since they first became friends in the seventh grade. Ida, Mavis, and Sophie are all godmothers to Toots’s daughter, Abby, who now has young twins of her own. The whole gang has moved back to South Carolina after several years of living and working in L.A.
Sophie is celebrating a wonderful first year of marriage to her second husband, Goebel. Yet ever since Sophie and Goebel moved into their new home, a former plantation house with a storied history, she has sensed something is amiss . . .
Chapter One
“You’re serious?” Toots asked. “You won’t tell me?”
Sophie drained the last of her coffee, then walked over to the sink. She rinsed out her cup, placing it in the dishwasher. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Toots. I can’t. I don’t feel right about this, and you know what happens when I have one of my feelings and I don’t listen.”
True, Toots thought. Her friend Sophie’s intuition, gut instinct, psychic abilities, w
hatever she currently sensed, must be acknowledged and taken very seriously. Sophie was always spot-on, and as much as she didn’t want to acquiesce, she didn’t really have a choice. Frustrated, Toots glanced at Sophie, then rested her gaze on Sophie’s husband, Goebel. “Has she told you about any of this?”
“No, and I am as curious as you are. I know it has something to do with this house; though what, I can’t say. I can tell you this. I did contact the great-great nephew of the original owner; he’s some hotshot financial guru. He’s out of the country right now, but I e-mailed him in hopes that he will have some background on this old place. It was in his family for more years than I can count. Maybe he knows about something that might’ve happened in this house.” He looked at Sophie. “Something she knows and doesn’t feel it’s safe for the rest of us to know.” Goebel was only guessing, but he knew his wife. She rarely kept things to herself when it came to her psychic abilities. She wanted to help others, to share her experiences, to offer comfort to those who sought out her services. Sophie was a giver, despite the hard-ass exterior she displayed to the world. “I’m surprised you don’t know anything about the property. You owned it yourself for years. As much as you enjoy decorating, learning the histories of all the antiques you’ve bought, I would have thought you of all people would know if something . . . bad happened in this house.”
Goebel was right, Toots thought. And normally she would, but she’d purchased this house when she and her friends were in California and had been so occupied with running the Informer and trying to keep her daughter, Abby, from discovering that she was the new owner of the newspaper, that she hadn’t thought too much about the history of the old house when she’d purchased it. Now, she wished she had taken the time to hire a professional to research that history, though she knew this wasn’t as hard as she was making it. The historical society would know, and she was a member. Indeed, her own home was on the national historical register, too. She was sure all she needed to do was make a few phone calls and she could find out anything she wanted about the house’s past. Though she wasn’t sure if she should. If Sophie refused to divulge her fears, then Toots might want to listen to her and stay out of it.
“What?” Sophie asked Toots. “I know you and that evil mind of yours. Go on, spit it out.”
Taking another deep breath, Toots nodded. She would not deceive Sophie, not now. For once, she was truly going to listen to her and stay out of things until she was told otherwise. “I never bothered researching the history when I bought the place. I was thinking I could call the historical society, and they might know what, if anything, untoward happened in this house. But then I changed my mind. That’s all.”
“You’re sure?” Sophie asked.
Toots had to resist the urge to cross her fingers, but she remembered her twin grandchildren and kept both hands splayed out on the table in front of her just in case she was tempted. “One hundred percent.”
Sophie gave her the eagle eye.
“I swear I won’t call anyone or do anything that would put Jonathan or Amy, or any of us, in harm’s way. I’ll leave the ghost stuff to the pros.”
“Well, then it’s settled. You won’t do anything until I say it’s clear. Tell Abby . . . tell her—shit, I hate to lie to her, but right now I think it’s for her and the twins’ protection. Tell her we found a . . . a carbon monoxide leak in the house. Yes! I’ll tell her that’s why I acted so strange—I’d breathed in too much carbon monoxide, and it affected my thinking. I can say I just found out the day she brought the twins over. It will at least keep her away, plus it will give me time to, uh, work on the problem.” Sophie didn’t dare voice what she knew. Not yet.
“I don’t like lying to Abby,” Toots stated.
“Oh for Pete’s sakes! You lied to her for years about owning the Informer! Why in the world would you even question telling an itty-bitty lie that’s for her safety and the safety of her children?”
Goebel laughed. “She does have a point, Toots.”
“I know.”
“So, are you going to tell her, or do you want me to tell her?” Sophie demanded. “We need to do this as soon as possible so we can put her worries aside and get on with . . . with whatever it is I need to do.”
Toots pondered the question. It was probably best if she let Sophie handle things. “You tell her. Go to her house today. Explain that you were . . . embarrassed or something. Tell her you felt like an idiot for not having the old place checked for carbon monoxide leaks before moving in. Make it sound sincere and grovel a bit. Abby always gives in when groveling is involved. At least that’s what Chris has told me. I’ve never seen it from her personally, but as her husband, he knows a side of her that we don’t. I hope that he does not see it too often.”
“I can’t see Chris groveling for any reason, but if you think this will get me off the hook, then I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to keep her and those babies out of this house.”
“And what about the rest of us?” Toots asked. “Should we stay away, too?”
“Yes, I think it’s best that you and the gang stay put until I think it’s safe. Tell the others the same story. I was always told when you have to lie, to keep it simple, so tell them I was stupid and simply neglected to have the place checked out. Ida won’t have any trouble believing you. She lives for any opportunity to throw me under the bus. This will make her day. Now, I have to go to Abby’s, and you, my dearest and oldest friend, have to make damned sure no one comes over here. Can you do that?”
Toots shot her an icy look, but nodded. “Yes, yes, I can keep everyone at bay, though I would really like to tell them you have syphilis of the face, but they won’t believe me.”
They all laughed, but beneath their laughter were ominous and foreboding undertones. They went their separate ways with thoughts that were too dark to share.
Chapter Two
Tuesday, September 6, 1955
Bishop Verot Catholic School
New Jersey
Teresa waited for Sophia at the entrance to the lunchroom as promised. Since it was her first day at a new school, and Sophia was the only one to show her any kindness earlier in the day, she figured it was worth waiting. Yeasty bread scented the air, reminding her of the lone piece of toast she’d had for breakfast. Her stomach grumbled, and she looked around to make sure no one heard. She would just die. The students would think she came from a poor family and didn’t get enough to eat. But, really, she thought to herself, why did she even care?
“Hey, Red, I was hopin’ to find you here,” Sophia called out in a voice so loud that the entire cafeteria went silent for a split second.
“Yeah, I waited,” was all she could come up with.
“Then let’s go see what crap the nuns cooked up today. For the record, the food ain’t all that bad here. Beats the hell out of the shit they serve in the public schools. Or at least that’s what I heard.”
Teresa wanted to ask her where and from whom she’d heard this but decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was they were about to be fed.
“You got a lunch ticket, I presume?” Sophie asked as they entered the cafeteria.
“Uh, sure. My mom prepaid for the entire year.” God, she sounded stupid! She was sure it was not cool to pay for a year’s lunch in advance.
“That’s good. Bring your lunch when you don’t like what’s on the menu, then you can sell your lunch ticket to the highest bidder for cigarette money.” Sophie stopped and looked over her shoulder. In a none-too-quiet voice she asked, “You do smoke, right?”
Feeling her face turn as red as the Jell-O being served, she gave a quick nod and prayed Sophia would forget this one-sided conversation.
They each took a pale green plastic tray from a large stack at the beginning of the lunch line. Forks, knives, and spoons were in metal bins next to the napkins. Teresa carefully chose a clean set of flatware and took two napkins even though there was a handwritten sign taped to the napkin holder that read Take O
nly One! She was messy and didn’t care. Tomorrow, she would grab a few napkins from the house before she left.
“You breakin’ rules already, I like that,” Sophia said. “I do what I want, when I want. Screw ’em.” Sophia laughed.
Teresa wanted to disappear, but no one else seemed to care that Sophia talked like a sailor, so she would go along with the others. Maybe Catholic school wasn’t going to be that bad after all.
“Sophia, you will report to my office the moment the lunch bell rings.” A tall woman dressed in a full nun’s habit smacked Sophia on the knuckles with a wooden ruler as she held out her lunch card to be punched.
“For what?” Sophia challenged, and again, Teresa wanted to die right there on the spot. Maybe she would choke to death on the red Jell-O that’d just been placed on her tray.
The nun, whose name Teresa had yet to learn, took Sophia by the arm. “I can see you haven’t changed much, young lady. That foul mouth of yours will land you in detention all year if you’re not careful. We do not say ‘screw ’em’ in this school. Do you understand, Miss De Luca?”
“Okay, but what should I say instead of ‘screw ’em,’ Sister Mary Rose? Fu—”
“Don’t you dare!” Teresa said before she could stop herself.
Sophia turned to look at her. She grinned. “For you, I won’t, but still.” She turned back to Sister Mary Rose. “What should I say instead? Is there another way to say ‘screw ’em’?”
“You are holding up the line. Remember, my office, young lady. Now move along.” The nun gritted her teeth before taking her hole punch in hand and reaching for Teresa’s lunch ticket.
Teresa didn’t know whether to follow this wild girl or if she should simply find some other plain, boring girls to have lunch with. She scanned the cafeteria and decided Sophia was her best bet.