Gotcha!: 21 (Sisterhood) - Softcover

Michaels, Fern

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1420121480 ISBN 13: 9781420121483

Publisher: Zebra Books, 2013

Synopsis

Revenge Is Never Outdated

Sometimes, justice is a long time coming. That's the case with Julie Wyatt, whose story strikes close to home for the original founder of the Sisterhood, Myra Rutledge, and her best friend--and fellow Sister--Annie. Julie is convinced her greedy daughter-in-law Darlene had something to do with the mysterious circumstances surrounding her son Larry's death. She desperately wants to get a confession out of Darlene--and to ensure the safety of Larry's daughter, Olivia. As Myra, Annie, and their cohorts dig deeper into Darlene's shady dealings, events unfurl in a way that no one could have predicted, bringing to light the true meaning of loyalty and courage--and the kind of friendship that can create miracles. . .

Praise for Fern Michaels and her Sisterhood novels. . .

"Readers will enjoy seeing what happens when well-funded, very angry women take the law into their own hands." --Booklist on Weekend Warriors

"Revenge is a dish best served with cloth napkins and floral centerpieces. . .fast-paced. . .puts poetic justice first."--Publishers Weekly on Payback

About this title

About the Author

FERN MICHAELS is the USA Today and New York Times bestselling author of the Sisterhood, Men of the Sisterhood, and Godmothers series, as well as dozens of other novels and novellas. There are over one-hundred ten million copies of her books in print. Fern Michaels has built and funded several large day-care centers in her hometown, and is a passionate animal lover who has outfitted police dogs across the country with special bulletproof vests. She shares her home in South Carolina with her four dogs and a resident ghost named Mary Margaret. Visit her website at www.fernmichaels.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Gotcha!

By FERN MICHAELS

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

Copyright © 2013 MRK Productions
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4201-2148-3

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Earlier that summer

In Manhattan, Mace Carlisle stepped out ofthe door of the Dakota, where he lived, andlooked at the new day. A perfect early summerday, the temperature just right, he thought. Perhapsnot at six o'clock in the morning but certainlyby nine o'clock, just three short hoursaway, the day would be bright and sunny, withmarshmallow clouds moving lazily across thesky. The trees in Central Park would whisperand do their dance for all the tourists, dog walkers,and joggers trying to take advantage of thegolden day.

Mace stood a few minutes more to savor theearly morning air before he walked to the curband hailed a taxi. He could have driven, buttoday was a secretive kind of day, a day when hedidn't want to be followed or watched. A MaceCarlisle day.

He was headed to the office of his lawyer,Oliver Goldfeld. Oliver was the only other personhe knew who arrived at his office by sixthirty, just the way he, Mace, did. For over twentyyears, the two men had convened for coffee andDanish at Oliver's office two days a week to discussMace's affairs. It was something Mace lookedforward to, because he always seemed to have agood day after meeting with Oliver.

Oliver and Mace weren't just lawyer andclient. They were friends in the true sense of theword. While Mace wasn't Oliver's only client, hewas his biggest and richest client. In fact, mostof Oliver's clients had signed on with Oliver becauseof Mace's endorsement of the lawyer.Goldfeld and Associates was an eight-man lawfirm whose specialty was corporate law.

It was six twenty-five when Mace stepped outof the elevator and walked to the plate-glass doorshe knew would be open. No one else would bein the offices yet, so they would have the placeto themselves.

The reception room was neither lavish norshabby. There were shiny green plants and a lotof mahogany. The lighting was subdued and thecarpeting soft. Once, years ago, Mace had toldhis friend that he needed to "slick up the place,"and this was the result.

Mace looked up at the sound of footstepscoming down one of the halls. He fixed a smilehe wasn't feeling onto his face and moved forward.

Some people meeting both men for the firsttime might take them for brothers, or at leastclose relatives. Both men were tall, six-two and-three. Both weighed in at one-seventy or thereabouts.Both liked to dress in custom-cut SavileRow suits. Both had gray hair, and both hadsummer blue eyes even at their age, which was,in both cases, sixty. Both had hawkish noses andstrong chins. They had both been bachelorsuntil three years ago, when Mace had gone offthe rails and married his masseuse, a marriagehe had regretted the moment he returned fromhis Hawaiian honeymoon.

Oliver led the way to his private conferenceroom, where he already had two containers ofDunkin' Donuts coffee and a bag of sugary donutssitting on the table. "Your turn next week,Mace," he said as he handed over napkins andpaper plates.

"Shouldn't you be serving this on fine china,with all the money I pay you?" Mace grumbled.

Oliver laughed, a great, booming sound."Mace, you say that every time we picnic here inthe conference room. One of these days, I'mgoing to surprise you and haul in some finechina just for you. Spit it out, buddy. You looklike hell, by the way."

"I feel like hell. Where's Andrew? I thoughtyou said he wanted to sit in this morning, so hecould do a hatchet job on me." Andrew was thefirm's CPA and a lawyer in his own right.

"It's his turn to carpool this morning. I don'tknow what more he can say except to say it inperson. I faxed his report to your office. Youneed to get rid of her, Mace, before she does anumber on you from which you cannot recover.Wall Street is already rumbling, but then youknow that. I have the divorce papers drawn up;they just have to be filed and served on her. Idid the restraining orders for her and her son.You hired that weasel, and he's biting you big-time.The eviction notice is prepared and readyto be served. The thing is, I want you out ofhere, far away, when all this goes down. Tell meyou understand, Mace?"

"I understand. Did she really divert twenty-sevenmillion dollars to her own bank? I almostlost my lunch when I read that. Yes, yes, I know Inever should have put her son in charge of thelegal department. Look, I was stupid, okay? I'msorry I didn't listen to you. I admit to being thebiggest fool to walk the face of the Earth. Whatmore do you want me to say, Oliver?"

Oliver massaged his chin as he stared at hisfriend. "Do not worry about the money. We canfreeze the money. I have a very good man whoexcels at such things. But I want her out of yourapartment before I do that. At the proper moment,her credit cards will be canceled, rightalong with everything else. The minute she walksout of the building, it will get done. Everythinghas to be synchronized, and you have to be gone.The weasel will also be escorted from your corporateoffices by your security. I need you to tellme you are okay with all of this, Mace."

"What about the prenup?" Mace asked.

"Ten million dollars if the marriage lasts fiveyears. It's cut-and-dried. When I draw up a prenup,I draw up a prenup. No way on this Earthcan it be broken. She gets nothing other thanwhat you've given her in the way of jewelry andher own personal bank account, which, by theway, has over eight hundred thousand dollars init. That, plus what you paid her son for doingnothing and screwing up your legal department,is more than fair for three years of marriage.I also took the liberty of canceling thelease on his apartment in Trump Towers thatyou're on the hook for. What I mean is, it will becanceled the moment your security walks himout of the building."

"Should I worry about any of this, Oliver?"

"Hell, yes, you should worry. Your wife is agreedy, vindictive woman. She's already sayingyou're over the edge and doing insane things tothe detriment of the company. Your shareholdersare not going to like that. As I said, the boys onthe street are making rumbling noises. No matterhow you look at it, Mace, it's a mess. Now,when are you planning on leaving?"

"As soon as I walk out of here. I can't go backto that place. The minute she's out, put it up forsale and be sure to get the locks changed. Youhave someone who can handle all of that, right?Oh, and have someone pack up my things andput them in storage. In the meantime, I can buywhat I need when I get to where I'm going."

"Where are you going, Mace?"

"I don't know. When I arrive, I'll let you know.Here," he said, tossing his cell phone across theconference table. "I bought a new one. When Icall you, you'll be able to see the number. Hereare my credit cards. I've seen enough spy moviesabout people going on the run and the goodguys tracking them by their cell phones andcredit cards."

"Take mine, Mace. At least take my passport.The picture is bad enough that no one will looktwice. We could pass for each other anytime,anyplace. You need cash, too."

"Yes, I know, but I didn't want to risk going tothe bank and taking money out. I didn't want totip my hand. Give me some cash out of one ofmy escrow funds. One last thing; I want you tohave my power of attorney, Oliver."

"Not necessary. The old one is still good, Mace.How much cash do you want?"

Mace grimaced. "A wad. I can always call youif I run out. Okay, now what is my cover story?"

Oliver blinked. "You're asking me? You're theone taking it on the lam. I thought you had aplan."

"Well, if getting in the car and driving somewhereis a plan, then I have a plan. I'll just drivetill I run out of gas, and that's where I'll end up.Can you come up with something better?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, actually, I can't.What car are you planning on driving, Mace?"

Mace slapped at his forehead. "Crap! My carwill stand out like a daisy in a manure field. Howabout I take one of yours?"

"Mine are just as noticeable as yours. In caseyou forgot, we bought our cars at the same time.So take your own and don't worry about it. Whenwhoever it is gets around to me, I will have allthe answers. You better get going, Mace; it's almostseven o'clock. No matter which way you'regoing to go, you are going to hit rush-hour traffic.Let me get the cash for you, then you needto go. Check in from time to time, okay?"

"I will. So, from this moment on, I am goingto be Oliver Goldfeld, right?"

"Just don't go practicing law and giving outadvice. I don't relish being hauled before thebar. What about her and the kid's cars?"

"Take them," Mace snapped.

"And ...?"

"Sell them to the highest bidder. I really don'tcare what you do. Just get rid of them."

"I have this vision of the mother and son ridingthe subway. Now, there's something I wouldpay money to see."

In spite of himself, Mace laughed.

Five minutes later, Mace had a manila envelopefull of cash.

Five minutes after that, the two old friendsgave each other a manly hug.

"This is going to turn out okay, isn't it, Oliver?"

"Well, if it doesn't, it won't be for lack of trying.Everything is set to go. She won't evenknow you're missing until you fail to show upthis evening. That puts you in a good position.Keep a low profile, and I'll take care of thisend."

"Oliver, why hasn't either one of us used hername? We refer to her as her or she. We don'teven call the boy by name."

"First of all, he isn't a boy, he's thirty-threeyears old. His name is Eli. Her name is Eileen.There, does that make you feel better?"

"Not one bit. See ya when I see ya, Oliver."

"Go on, you big lug, get out of here before Igo all mushy on you. Hey, on your way out, whydon't you go to the SPCA and pick up a dog.Pick the ugliest one they have, the one no oneelse wants, and that dog will love you forever.You have enough time to do it."

"You know what, Oliver? That's the best adviceyou've given me since I got here. Do me afavor; call them and tell them I'll be by to pickher or him up in an hour. I'm going to do it.Thanks for the suggestion. Man and his dog. Ilike that. I really do."

When the door closed behind Mace Carlisle,Oliver Goldfeld picked up the phone to call theSPCA. While he waited for the call to go through,he muttered, "Good luck, Mace."

Ninety minutes later, Mace Carlisle roaredinto the SPCA parking lot. He climbed out andliterally sprinted toward the door, to be greetedwith barking and howling dogs. A frazzled attendantlooked up and said, "You must be Mr.Goldfeld." Mace nodded, then looked around.He had a bad moment when he realized he wasthere just to rescue one dog. He blinked, and inthat instant he knew if he wanted to, he couldsave every animal in the shelter. He blinkedagain and yanked out his brand-new cell phoneand called Oliver. He turned away and spokequickly and quietly. A huge smile split his featureswhen he turned back to the attractiveblond woman behind the counter.

"Here she is," the woman, whose name tag indicatedthat she was Connie Toulouse, said."Her name is Lola. She's a mix of God onlyknows what. She's timid, and she needs someTLC. Actually, she needs a lot of TLC. Are youup to it, sir? Owning a dog is a huge responsibility.Lola is going to depend on you. I don't haveany stats on her. Someone found her and broughther here, so I have to assume she's been on herown for a while. I cleaned her up, and she's hadher shots. I'd have your own vet look her over.That will be seventy-five dollars."

Mace whipped out two one-hundred-dollarbills and laid them on the counter. "Give meone of everything she's going to need." Then hebent down to look at the skinny, trembling dog,who was trying desperately to be invisible to thehuge man standing over her. Mace dropped tohis knees. When he looked into Lola's eyes, itwas love at first sight. He picked her up andheld her close to his chest. He couldn't ever rememberanything feeling this good, this right.He stroked her head and whispered words hewould never remember later. Lola continued toshake, but, gradually, she seemed to calm down.Mace continued to croon soft words in her ear.

Mace looked at his $1.38 million MaybachLandaulet, which generated 543.1 horsepower.Lola was certainly going from rags to riches. Hegrinned, something he hadn't done in a verylong time. He opened the door and set the dogdown in the front seat. He threw her gear intothe back and slid behind the wheel. He buckledup and set Lola on his lap. He babbled nonstopto the dog until she relaxed and curled into aball on his lap. "Don't you worry, little lady,you're mine now. I'm going to take good care ofyou, and I'm not going to feed you those rabbit-pooppellets Connie Toulouse gave us. We'regoing to stop at the first place we come to whenwe get out of Manhattan and get you some realfood. Later, we'll adjust your diet after the vetchecks you out."

It was almost noon when Mace peeled into afast-food stop in New Jersey and went throughthe drive-through. He ordered basically one ofeverything, then pulled the ultra-luxurious high-endcar over to a shaded area. Lola sniffed atthe bag of food but didn't move. In the end,Mace fed her by hand. She ate daintily and lookedup at him with soulful brown eyes. She had completelystopped shaking by then. After eating asmuch as she wanted, Lola sat up, put her pawson Mace's shoulders, and licked at his face.Mace could feel his eyes mist over. After huggingthe dog, he opened the car door.

Lola cringed. "No, no, we're just going to goover there under the tree. I'm going to carryyou. It's okay, Lola. Shhh," Mace said as he cradledthe dog against his chest.

Once they were under the tree, Mace sat downon a bench and lowered Lola to the ground. "Ithink this is where you pee or something sinceyou just ate and drank. You have to do it."

Lola tilted her head to the side, listened tothe words, and squatted. "Good girl! You ...ah ... have to do anything else?" Lola tilted herhead again and moved off to the base of thetree, where she proceeded to do the somethingelse. Mace laughed. When she was finished, hescooped her up, and they were back in the carwithin minutes and on the way south to Godonly knew where.

By late afternoon, Mace and Lola had enteredthe state of Virginia. He stopped for thenight at a roadside campground whose sign saidthat dogs were welcome. The cabin was a far cryfrom the Ritz, but not only was it clean, it evensmelled clean.

In the lobby of the main cabin, Mace pickedup a road map and took it with him back to hiscabin. He spread it out on the floor and told hisdog, "Pick a place, Lola." He never knew if Lolahad understood him or not, but she obliginglyplanted a paw on the map. Mace looked downand laughed. "Okay, Lola, Alabama it is!"

CHAPTER 2

Julie Wyatt looked down at her dogs andwagged her finger. "Listen up, you guys. I amjust going to the market and bank, and I'll beback in an hour. You chew even one string, andyou both get punished. Bark once if you understandme, twice if you plan on defying me."

The two Chesapeake Bay retrievers looked upat their mistress and barked. Once. Julie laughed."Yeah, right! Listen to me, Cooper. I know youhave separation anxiety when I leave, but I amcoming back." Then she looked over at Gracie,who was swishing her tail importantly. "Bite hisear if he starts chewing, Gracie."

Normally, Julie took the dogs with her whenshe ran her errands, but the A/C in her truckwas on the sluggish side, and the big dogs hadtrouble with the high humidity. So she was leavingthem behind.

Outside, on her flower-bedecked veranda,Julie looked at the golden day, then at her yard.Yep, with all the rain they'd had lately, her four-acreyard was beginning to look just like JurassicPark. She groaned when she thought about howmuch extra she was going to have to pay the gardenerjust to trim everything up before it gotout of control.

As she looked around at the different flowerpotsand the comfortable furniture on the veranda,she found herself smiling. Once the sunwent down, she loved sitting out with a frostyglass of iced tea and watching the paddle fansoverhead whir softly, causing the luscious fernshanging from the beams to stir in the light breeze.The dogs loved it, too, especially when she gavethem bacon-flavored chew bones to chew on.Sometimes she even dozed off with the dogs.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Gotcha! by FERN MICHAELS. Copyright © 2013 by MRK Productions. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: Zebra Books
• Publication date: 2013
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 1420121480
• ISBN 13: 9781420121483
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 384