Late Edition by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online

Toots and the others, she turned her back on them and walked back into the bathroom, where she dropped onto the floor in a heap.
    â€œFollow her,” Toots said.
    Ida and Sophie trailed behind Toots, all three stopping when they entered Ida’s bathroom.
    With a shaky finger, Ida pointed to the words etched in the steam still running down the mirror.
    I was poisoned.
    One by one Toots, Sophie, and Mavis read the words, each expressing shock at what she saw.
    As was the norm, Sophie was the one to break the silence. “So it wasn’t that tainted meat that killed Thomas, after all. Good grief, Ida, it seems to me Thomas has come back from the grave to tell you he was murdered! Toots, what about it?” Sophie asked. Ida had yet to utter a single word.
    Mavis stationed herself in the doorway, almost afraid to say anything for fear of upsetting poor Ida any more than she already was.
    â€œDo you think I should call nine-one-one?” Mavis asked.
    â€œHell no! I’ll take care of this,” Sophie informed her.
    Toots was shocked by what she saw. Huddled in the corner where she had collapsed, the giant bath sheet still wrapped around her, Ida was as white as a sheet. She had a haunted look in her eyes, her lips were blue, and her teeth were chattering as though she were freezing.
    In a voice that was barely a whisper, Ida said, “I think they killed him.”
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about now?” Sophie asked, not immediately connecting what had just been said with the frightening words oozing down the foggy mirror. Then Sophie followed Toots’s gaze to the mirror and finally understood.
    â€œIf what this mirror says is true, then someone murdered Thomas. All this time, poor Ida thought he died from tainted meat. This is serious stuff, nothing to laugh at,” Toots said.
    â€œYes, and I can just see it now. We call the police and tell them Ida’s former husband was poisoned. They are really going to believe us, especially when they find out he’s been dead for almost a year. I wonder what they’ll think when we tell the cops that a ghost wrote this on a foggy bathroom mirror. Can’t you see how bad that makes all of us look?” Sophie asked.
    â€œShe’s right. “Should we call Chris?” Mavis asked, referring to Christopher Clay, Toots’s stepson, who was a local entertainment lawyer.
    â€œNo, I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” Toots stooped down to the floor, reached for Ida’s hands, and gently tried to pull her into a standing position. “Ida, you need to get yourself together. We can handle this. After all, we are the godmothers.” She said the last few words in an attempt to humor Ida.
    â€œLet me take care of this,” Sophie said. “Get your dirty, rotten ass off the floor, and quit acting like a wimp! I’ve had it with you and your prissy-ass ways. First, it’s the OCD and all the germs. Second, you wind up doing the horizontal mambo with that old, perverted fake doctor, and now, when we’re at the point of phenomenal success with our séances, you have to screw it all up by letting the spirit of your ex-husband scare the shit out of you.”
    With her usual tactlessness, Sophie grabbed Ida’s hands in her own, pulled her to her feet, and guided her into the bedroom. With a none-too-gentle shove, she pushed her down onto the bed.
    â€œYou have the subtlety of a tsunami,” Toots said. “You all know I’m not one to run away—chicken poop I am not—but I think it’s time we left, time to go to Charleston. I think we’ve all had the scare of our lives tonight. Once we’re in a place where we all feel safe, I really believe we need to call the authorities in New York and tell them our suspicions. I don’t think we need to mention any spirits or ghosts. We’ll figure something out. Sophie is a good liar, so she should be able to