The Scoop (16 page)

“I know it’s nasty, and I might quit someday, but not now. I enjoy it too much to give it up. I might make it my New Year’s resolution.” There, that was a verbal confirmation that she was seriously considering giving up the terrible habit.

Toots barreled through the door, digging inside her purse for a cigarette the second she stepped outside. She lit up, then walked over and sat down beside Sophie.

“The doctor just took Ida into his office. If he can’t help her, or if Ida refuses the help, I think we better prepare to commit ourselves—maybe
really
commit ourselves if this keeps up. That scene at the hotel wore me out.”

“Yeah, I hear you. I’m not going to pamper her ass anymore,” Sophie said.

“Try and be nice to her,” Mavis pleaded.

Toots glanced over at Sophie to see her reaction.

All three women burst out laughing at the same time.

A
n hour later, Dr. Sameer and Toots escorted Ida to the waiting limo, Sophie and Mavis trailing behind. “The doctor said this is going to be much easier to cure than you think. He really wants you to take the medication, says it will speed up the healing process, sort of a boost type of thing. I know how you feel about taking medication, but you have to try, Ida. At the risk of repeating myself, this is no way to live.”

“I know, Teresa. I’m just so
afraid,”
Ida said. “I’ll take the medication if you think I should.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, it’s what the doctor thinks that matters. I told you, the man is the best in his field. If it was me, I’d move heaven and earth to get my old life back, but it’s all up to you, Ida. I did my share. You’re on your own now. In other words, girlfriend, this is where the rubber meets the road.” Toots stood aside while the driver opened the door.

Careful not to touch anything, Ida, tears dripping down her cheeks, slipped inside the limo. Toots followed, then Sophie and Mavis. Coco curled up on her mistress’s lap.

They were barely out of the parking lot before Sophie made an announcement. “Ida, listen, I owe you an apology for the way I spoke to you earlier. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I’ve been down a few unpleasant roads myself, so I just want you to know that you will get well. I have a lot of faith in you. Bad times don’t last forever. Right, Toots?”

Toots knew Sophie referred to the many years of abuse she’d suffered. She shrugged.

Ida smiled, a genuine smile. “Thank you for saying that.”

“I’m not the ogre I make myself out to be at times.” Sophie grinned. “But sometimes, Ida, like now, you irritate the shit out of me. Toots is right, you need to get with the program here.”

“Bullshit, you’re worse,” Toots quipped.

“Now, girls, that will be enough of that,” Mavis chastised in a loud, firm voice. “Oh, goodness, I sounded just like Sister Mary Elizabeth, didn’t I?”

Sister Mary Elizabeth was the meanest nun in the whole world, or so they’d thought their freshman year.

“No one sounds like Sister Mary Elizabeth. I really hated her. I wonder what happened to her?” Toots asked.

“I used to think she’d scare the devil right out of hell. I’m sure she’s dead and gone by now. Remember how she used to tell us men, not money, were the root of all evil? I think she might have been onto something even back then. She had to be at least a hundred and ten when we were in high school.” Sophie cackled.

They all laughed, Ida included.

“We sure do have some great memories,” Mavis said.

“Some of us don’t. Remember the prom, Ida? When you were chosen prom queen?”

Ida laughed, actually
laughed.
“I do, and I don’t want to be reminded of it. It was the worst day of my life.”

“That can’t be. You said when Toots snatched Jerry away from you,
that
was the worst day of your life.”

“Sophie, zip it up! I swear you are the biggest troublemaker I’ve ever seen. Do you get some kind of sick delight out of tormenting us? Now be quiet and let’s enjoy the scenery. I’m tired of arguing with you,” Toots said in a tone that meant it was final and there would be no more talk of Ida’s night at the prom.

“Well,
excuse
me, Your Royal Highness. Leave it to you to rain on my parade,” Sophie shot back.

Toots’s cell phone rang, saving her from further discussion. She pulled the little black square out of her clutch bag. “Hello. Abby! Of course, we’d love to. Hang on a minute.” Toots looked over at Ida. “Ida, are you up to taking a tour of
The Informer?
”

Toots saw fear rearrange Ida’s perfectly defined features. “No, no. I’m not ready for that yet, but tell Abby I will someday.”

“Toots, do you think I can bring Coco with us? I would hate to leave her at the bungalow. She gets so lonely.”

“Abby, Ida isn’t feeling up to a tour just now. But Mavis wants to know if it’s all right if she brings Coco along.”

“Absolutely. Chester is in my office as we speak. This will give the two of them a chance to get acquainted.”

“Then we’ll be there as soon as we drop Ida off at the hotel. I’m so excited, Abby, you know how much I love your tabloid!”

“Yes, I do. I’ll see you in about an hour, then,” Abby said. “Ask your driver if he knows where we’re located.”

“Of course, hold on.” More muffled sounds. “Yes, he says everyone in LA knows where
The Informer
is. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, Mom. Bye.”

Toots put the phone back inside her purse.

Abby hit the
END
button on the phone.

Since she now had time to kill before her guests arrived, Abby decided to go back online. She did a few searches, hoping something new would appear on the sale of the paper. When nothing new came up, she used her cell phone to call Rag for the hundredth time. This definitely wasn’t normal. While Rag was a bona fide jerk, it wasn’t like him not to let anyone know he wasn’t coming into the office. Even on the days when he was suffering from a hangover and his weekend jaunts to Vegas, he always called with some kind of cockamamie excuse. For the umpteenth time, she got his voice mail and left another message that was unlike any message she’d ever left before: “This is Abby. Look, dammit, if you’re going to skip out, you need to let one of us know. I hope to hell you didn’t spend the payroll yesterday because this is the week we’re supposed to get paid. Call me as soon as you get this message.” Abby tossed the phone on top of her desk. Maybe she should take a ride to Rag’s apartment, just to make sure he was alive. It was entirely possible that he could have fallen, especially given the fact that he drank so much.

Abby looked at the clock on the wall. She had enough time to race over to his apartment and get back before her mother and the others arrived. A morbid thought hit her. She called her mother a second time and told her what she was going to do.

“Mom, sorry to bug you. I just realized I have an errand that I can’t put off. Can you wait a couple of hours before coming by?”

“No problem, Abby. Actually, it works out just fine, and we’ll have enough time to freshen up. We’ll see you in a little while.”

Abby grabbed her briefcase, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve such a wonderful parent. Though she’d grown up with more stepfathers than the norm, her mother had never neglected her in any way. If anything, when it came to her needs, she usually told whomever she was married to at the time that Abby was more important than he was. She meant it, too. Her mother often swore she jinxed the men she married, even going so far as telling the third or fourth that all her previous husbands had died, and if he wanted to bow out gracefully, do it before the wedding because there was no way Teresa Amelia Loudenberry was going to be humiliated by being left at the altar.

Abby grabbed Chester’s leash. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Hearing the magic words, Chester bolted for the door and stood waiting. Chester walked out the door and down the dark hallway, stopping when he reached the exit stairs to the door. Abby swore he was smarter than most of the men she’d dated. Actually, she was sure of it. Those idiots didn’t bother to stop and wait for her at the door. “You’re a good guy, Chester. Maybe you’ll meet the girl of your dreams today. Something tells me in your case, size won’t matter.”

The shepherd cocked his head to the side to look at his mistress. Abby knew he understood every word she said. On the ground floor, Abby stopped to buy a bottle of water from the soda machine.

Abby’s yellow MINI Cooper looked like a ray of sunshine after she had been inside the dark office. The main reason she bought the car in the first place was because it reminded her of a big golden sun. Her thoughts took her back to the office as she wondered if the new owners, if she ever learned who they were, would spring for a remodeling job. A few windows and some fresh paint would make all the difference in the world to the grimy interior.

“Inside, Chester.” She unlocked the passenger door, strapped Chester into his seat belt, then scurried around to the driver’s side.

Traffic was terrible on Santa Monica Boulevard, nothing new there. She watched the tourists while waiting at a traffic light. They were young, old, large, small, and of every nationality in the world. Some carried book bags filled to the brim, others had huge cameras strapped around their necks, and without fail she spotted several older gentlemen wearing the proverbial flowered shirt. She smiled. It was just like in the movies. Sometimes.

A loud beep from the car behind her sent her foot to the accelerator faster than normal, causing Chester to lunge forward. “Sorry, boy. Everybody seems to be in a hurry these days.” She cast a glance in her rearview mirror. Typical Hollywood smart-ass, she thought. Black BMW convertible, designer shades, a cell phone stuck to the side of his face. She was tempted to flip the driver the bird, something she’d seen her mother do on more than one occasion, but stopped herself just in time. There was probably some law against it anyway. She made a mental note to check into it, and, if so, make sure her mother kept her finger to herself, at least while she was in town.

Rag lived in an older section of LA that always made Abby feel as though she were entering a time warp. Flat ranch-style houses similar to hers minus all the updates. Scattered tree-lined streets. Bicycles that had seen better days, Big Wheels that had spent too much time in the sun, and rusting swing sets littered several browning lawns. In one yard she spied an old Volkswagen van with big, faded orange flowers that looked as though it’d taken one too many flower-power trips. A stray dog stood on the corner as though waiting for traffic. It always broke Abby’s heart to see homeless animals. She slowed down, then on a whim turned around to see if the dog wore a collar. If not, well, she’d take it from there. She was relieved to see a bright red collar around its neck. Its owners were probably too busy to take it for a walk, so the dog decided to go on its own. The thought made her smile.

Abby turned left on Sable Street, following it to Green-lawn Drive, where it dead-ended at Rag’s apartment complex. The Timberland Apartments, vintage 1960s, were an ugly shade of green, with black shutters. A low-pitched roof with a two-foot wooden overhang, which she supposed was some kind of sixties cornice, reminded her of a box. Frankly, Abby thought they were the ugliest apartments in the city. She pulled in front of apartment B-2. Rag’s new Chrysler wasn’t in its usual parking space, which really didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t expected to find him at home waiting for company. Chester whined to get out.

“Come on, boy. Let’s take a break.” Abby opened the passenger door. “Stay close, Chester.”

With the dog trailing her, Abby walked across the small parking area to Rag’s apartment. She knocked loudly, hoping he was inside and that he was alive. She knocked again. “Shit!” Crossing the sidewalk to the side of the single-story apartment, Abby hoped no one was watching her. All she needed was the police to come and tag her as a prowler or a peeping Tom. Then again, she rather thought this was one of those mind-your-own-business kinds of apartment complexes.

Abby rapped on the glass a second time. If Rag was inside and alive, he would have made himself known by now. Worried and ticked at herself for being worried and ticked at her boss, she went back to the front of the apartment, where she proceeded to pound on the door again. “If you’re in there and not answering because you’re hung over, a hangover is going to be a blessing after I get through kicking your nuts between your ears,” she shouted, not caring if the neighbors heard her or not. She grimaced at the visual.

Finally convinced that Rag wasn’t at home, Abby turned the doorknob and was stunned to discover that the door was unlocked. As she motioned for Chester to follow her inside, she observed, “I am not getting a good feeling here, Chester.”

The inside of Rag’s apartment was as ugly as the outside. Orange vinyl chairs were pushed back from a round glass table. In the center was a wine caddy with six matching glasses that had brownish-gold leaves painted on them. A two-tiered modern-looking end table was placed at one end of a zebra-patterned sofa.

Decorating 101 it wasn’t.

Abby made her way to Rag’s bedroom at the end of a short hallway. She contemplated the odds of her ever being inside Rag’s bedroom and didn’t like them.

As she entered the room, what she saw stunned her. The single closet door hung open, revealing a few empty wire hangers. Why did it not surprise her that her boss still used wire hangers? Abby glanced at the floor of the closet, where she saw a pair of well-worn Nikes. Opposite the closet was an armoire, its drawers pulled all the way out. She looked inside, but they were as empty as the closet. Hurrying, she stepped inside the old-fashioned green-and-white-tiled bathroom. An old claw-foot tub with a huge rust stain. A showerhead poking out from the Sheetrock, the shower curtain grimy at the bottom. A freestanding sink and a toilet with a black seat were crammed so close together, Abby had a horrible vision of Rag using the john, soaking his feet in the tub, and brushing his teeth at the same time. Quickly she opened the medicine cabinet. It was as empty as the closet and armoire.

Abby had a sneaky feeling dear old Rag had gotten himself into a very deep and smelly mess this time and, with no options, had cut and run.