Free Gotcha! by Fern Michaels Page B

the table to hug their mother. “Way to go, Mom!” they both said.
    Julie laughed. “Do you think the boys will approve?”
    “Mom, the minute you put the wheels in motion, your sons will be here so fast you’ll think they were shot out of a cannon. Hey, you could charter a plane to bring them home. Boy, would they get off on that,” Carrie said.
    Connie poured the wine into the chilled glasses when the waitress set it down on the table. “We need to get serious here, Mom. Turn it all over to Arnie and let him handle everything. When the smoke clears, we’ll all meet and . . . and do what needs to be done for Larry. Let’s agree and drink to that!”
    Julie smiled, her eyes glistening with tears as she held her glass up. The twins did the same. There was no turning back. She could see her life starting to change right in front of her eyes. She finished the wine in one long gulp. The twins did the same. Like mother, like daughters.
    While Julie paid the bill, Carrie carried the remainder of the wine over to a couple she knew sitting at another table. She joined her mother and twin outside. She loved the wicked grins she was seeing on Connie’s and her mother’s faces.
    They hugged and kissed the way they always did when they parted company, with Julie saying, “Drive carefully, girls,” to which they both replied, “You, too, Mom.”
    Julie drove home, her thoughts all over the map. The sky opened up just as she climbed out of the car. She was soaked to the skin before she could climb the steps to the veranda. She hated these afternoon pop-up showers that were like monsoons. Thank God there was no thunder or lightning to upset Cooper, who was already barking his head off just knowing she was outside the door, and he was inside the house. The moment she stepped inside, he threw himself at her and didn’t calm down until she squatted on the floor and rolled around with him. Gracie let her disapproval show as she pranced ahead to the bedroom, where she knew Julie would head to shed her clothes. Then she’d get her hugs and smooches and not get wet. Her tail swung importantly as she made her way. Inside Julie’s bedroom, Gracie hopped up on the bed and waited like the lady she was.
    Julie knew the drill and followed it to the letter until everyone was happy. She kept up a running monologue with the dogs and knew without a doubt that both retrievers understood every word she said.
    Dressed in a light summer dress and sandals, she made her way to the kitchen, where she pulled out a bottle of wine and a glass, and stuffed some dog chews in her pocket. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to retire to the veranda because I need to THINK. ”
    And that’s where Mace found her four hours later. With her internal dinner clock working to the max, Gracie had gone out through the doggie door, across the yard to the cottage, and rang the bell. When Mace had opened the door for her, she backed up and barked. She backed up again, tail swishing, her head jerking to indicate that he was to follow her. He did.
    At the big house, Gracie again scooted through the doggie door, then raced to the kitchen door to undo the dead bolt. Mace entered, his heart pounding as he followed the retriever out to the veranda, where Cooper was guarding Julie. Please God, don’t let there be anything wrong.
    Cooper reared up and showed his teeth. Gracie smacked him with her paw. He barked, a sharp, be-very-careful kind of bark that Gracie approved of.
    “Julie! It’s me, Oliver. Are you all right?”
    Julie reared up, her eyes glazed. “Oh, Oliver, it’s you. Hell, no, I’m not all right. I’m pie-eyed. I drank this whole bottle of wine. And . . . and . . . I had a glass of wine at lunch with the twins. I’m schnockered. We’re not going to be having dinner this evening unless you want to try your hand at making something. I tried eating that shitty veggie burger at lunch, but I just couldn’t get it down. The wine was good, though. The