Free Deadline by Fern Michaels Page A

to resist the urge to tell her daughter to take the day off, “but promise you won’t forget to call. We were so worried, Abby.”
    She heard the concern in her mother’s voice and felt a pang of guilt for not calling when she said she would. “I promise,” Abby said, before ending the call.
    She pulled into her driveway, suddenly exhausted. She removed Chester’s belts and buckles and for the second time in three hours, let him leap across the seat and visit the backyard. Abby looked at her watch. Almost 4:00 AM Definitely time to hit the sack.

Chapter 6
    T oots spent the next three-plus hours tossing and turning. She glanced at the digital clock next to her bed—7:30. Knowing there was no way she would go back to sleep, she decided to get up and start the day. She took a quick shower, and dressed in a pair of black slacks with a gray blouse. She twisted her hair in its usual topknot, added a smear of blush to her cheeks and mascara to her eyelashes, and went downstairs to start the coffee.
    She had high hopes Sophie, Mavis, and Ida would sleep in after staying up so late waiting to hear from Abby, but tossed them right down the drain as soon as she heard the familiar creak on the staircase. Expecting it to be Sophie, Toots was surprised when she saw Ida, dressed to the nines in one of Mavis’s remakes of a sixties-style Coco Chanel shift dress Ida had worn in her younger days. It was black with white trim, sleeveless with an empire waist, and she was the only sixty-six-year-old woman Toots knew who could pull it off without looking like she was trying to act twenty years younger.
    â€œI smell coffee,” Ida said as she sashayed over to the counter next to Toots.
    â€œHelp yourself,” Toots replied as she filled her cup with half and half, along with her usual three giant spoonfuls of sugar. She watched as her friend poured coffee into a cup, adding about two grains of sugar. Rolling her eyes, Toots walked over to the table. Seated in her regular chair at the head of the table, she continued to watch Ida. “Did you ever think of becoming an actress?”
    Ida brought her cup to the table. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œWell, you’re up at seven-thirty in the morning, fully dressed, and you have makeup on. That’s how actresses always look on television. Just a thought I had, nothing important.”
    â€œIs this your way of asking me why I’m dressed so early?”
    Toots rolled her eyes again. “Actually, it isn’t.” Under no circumstances would she give Ida the satisfaction of asking why she was dressed like she had stepped right out of the star’s dressing room, no matter how curious she was. Instead, she took a sip of her coffee and cringed at the bitter taste despite its being laced to overflowing with cream and sugar. She really didn’t like the imported coffee beans Mavis had switched to. Give her good old Maxwell House any day of the week. This crap was certainly not good to the last drop.
    Ida took several sips of her coffee before speaking. “I have a nine o’clock hair appointment at Neil George Salon. They’re the most posh salon in Beverly Hills. At least for the moment.”
    Toots’s instinctual alarm went off. She knew what Ida was up to. It didn’t take Albert Einstein, or even a plain old rocket scientist, to figure it out. Ida wanted to make damn sure she’d look her best before Goebel arrived in the afternoon. Formulating a plan, Toots’s thoughts brought forth an evil grin. “You know, I have been looking for a new salon. I need my ends trimmed and a bit of a color touch-up. Would you mind giving me their number so I can schedule an appointment? I would appreciate it.” Toots’s eyes danced with delightful mischief. She was not going to let Ida get one up on Sophie.
    â€œI thought you always colored your own hair,” Ida said, “but of course I’ll be happy to