Return to Sender (9 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Self-actualization (Psychology) in women, #Mothers and sons, #Contemporary Women, #Single mothers, #Family Life

BOOK: Return to Sender
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Sally knuckled the tears in her eyes. “Look how far you’ve come, Lin. Your hard times are nothing more than a distant memory. You should be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

“I suppose. I just did what anyone else would’ve done had they been in my shoes. Nothing spectacular.”

“You’re a survivor, Lin. Will is lucky to have you for a mother.”

Lin grinned. “He is, isn’t he?”

Sally gave her a gentle shove. “You witch!”

They both laughed until their sides ached.

Lin’s mascara ran down her face, but she didn’t care. She was on a mission to right a terrible wrong. “Look at that.” She pointed to a street sign. “We’re on Bleecker Street. Let’s go to that bakery, the one from
Sex and the City.
The Magnolia Bakery. Their cupcakes are supposed to be some of the best in the city.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day. Let’s run,” Sally suggested.

Together they ran down the street to the famed bakery. Once inside, there were so many cupcakes to choose from, they ordered one of each.

“I bet you’ve gained back all that weight you lost,” Sally said after they’d eaten six cupcakes apiece.

“And then some. I know when I go home, I’m going to dream about those cupcakes. They’re to die for!” Lin exclaimed.

They walked another block before spying the thrift shop tucked in an alleyway.

“Just where Jason said it would be,” Lin commented.

The place was called Frugality. Lin guessed this was supposed to be a hip name for what she thought of as a used-clothing store, something she thought she’d never have to visit again, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Not that she couldn’t afford to shop on Madison Avenue. She could. It was simply a matter of common sense.

They entered the store. Lin was surprised to find it so organized and neat. A young girl with coal black hair, and so many piercings she reminded Lin of a pincushion, greeted them.

“Can I help you find anything?” she asked.

They told her what they were searching for, and she directed them to a half-price table at the back of the store.

“Look at these,” Sally called as she held up a pair of black slacks.

Lin walked to the back of the store.

“Oh my gosh,” Sally whispered. “They’re Chanel. Size six. Five bucks. I’ll take it.”

“You go, girl,” Lin said. “Let me see what else we can find.”

The two of them rummaged through the piles of clothing, finding everything they needed for tonight’s adventure. Now all they had to do was wait for Jason’s call.

 

Chelsea Pemberton had never been more mortified in her life. The minute she’d found out her husband had canceled her lines of credit and credit cards, she’d sneaked his American Express from his wallet while he showered. The way he looked told her he wasn’t long for this world. He couldn’t die soon enough as far as she was concerned.

Reluctantly, she’d had to share Herbert today since Nick was due for his Wednesday chemotherapy treatment midmorning. She’d told him she was having lunch in the Village with friends. What did he know? She could’ve told him she was dining with the Pope in Peru, and he wouldn’t have acknowledged her. She prayed for his sudden death. Maybe an air bubble would form in his IV line. She’d heard that was deadly. Whatever the means, she wanted the son of a bitch dead. With him out of the picture, she’d have complete control of his fortune. Pemberton Transport would be up for grabs. At the right price, of course. She smiled. Nick would kill her if he knew what she was thinking, and if he didn’t, her dead father-in-law would reach up from beyond the grave and try to pull her right down into the depths of hell with him. She smiled at the thought.

“Herbert, I need to make a stop at Van Cleef & Arpels.”

She knew he’d tell Nicholas if asked. The old sod was loyal to the Pembertons. Chelsea couldn’t understand why, since they treated most of the hired help like eighteenth-century slaves, though she had to admit, she enjoyed abusing their services as much as Nick did.

“I’ll need you to wait.”

“Of course you do,” Herbert replied in what Chelsea felt was a condescending tone. She’d make sure to mention this to Nick, for whatever it was worth.

Herbert expertly maneuvered the Lincoln Town Car through the midtown traffic. Lin looked at her Tiffany watch, a gift from Nick when he’d been trying to impress Joel Stein, an investment banker he’d taken to dinner when he’d been trying to lure him away from J.P. Morgan. It hadn’t worked. Apparently good old sharp-as-a-tack Joel had seen right through his phony malarkey. Though Chelsea had to admit, she’d been pleasantly surprised when Nick whipped out the famous blue box while at dinner.

Unbeknownst to her husband, she was about to purchase an exquisite Caresse d’Eole ring she’d seen in Van Cleef & Arpels. His American Express bill would be a tad on the high side by the end of the month.

“Ma’am,” Herbert said as he pulled in front of the famous jewelers.

Chelsea hurried into the shop. Herbert had been instructed to return to the hospital in three hours. She didn’t have time to browse.

A small man wearing a custom-tailored suit greeted her at the door. “Mrs. Pemberton, how wonderful to see you.”

Chelsea loved the recognition. “Yes, I must have the Caresse d’Eole ring I saw last month.”

The man smiled at her. “Of course, madam. Follow me.”

She followed the man to the back of the store, where he removed the ring from its case. “This is one of our most beautiful pieces. Here.” He reached for her hand. “Allow me.”

Chelsea gazed at the ring of white gold and diamonds. She deserved this. “I’ll take it.”

“Are you sure of the sizing?”

“It’s perfect, almost as though it were made for me. Now, if you’ll hurry along. My driver is waiting.” She thrived on ordering around what she thought of as the “little people.” She smiled. In this instance the phrase “little people” was quite literal. How pleased she was!

The man made fast work of wrapping the ring in beautiful cream-colored wrapping paper. “Would madam care to charge this to her Van Cleef & Arpels account?”

Madam would
love
to, she thought. However, Mr. Pemberton, the bastard who’d closed her account, had decided otherwise. “I’ll be using American Express.” She removed the card from her bag and gave it to the clerk. She tucked the bag under her arm. She couldn’t wait to wear the ring in front of Nick. She’d show him it wasn’t so easy to prevent her from getting what she wanted.

When the clerk returned to the front of the store, his face was red. When he spoke, it was in a hushed voice. “Madam, there seems to be a problem. Mr. Pemberton’s card has been denied.”

“What do you mean?” she shouted. “There must be some mistake. You’ve done something wrong. Try again.” Chelsea felt the heat rise from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

The clerk ran to the back of the store, only to return minutes later. “I am very sorry, madam. The card was denied. Perhaps Mr. Pemberton…” His words trailed off.

Chelsea knew what he wanted to say.
Perhaps Mr. Pemberton has canceled the account.
“Never mind. Give me back my card. I will
never
visit this store again!” She tossed the package on the counter and ran out the door, humiliated beyond belief.

Herbert was waiting. The moment he saw her, he got out of the car to open her door for her.

“Get out of my way!” she shouted. She could open the goddamned door herself. Did he think she was stupid? Of course she was stupid—she had been stupid for years. More times than she could remember, she’d stood rooted to the ground while she waited for the old man to extricate his arthritic body out of the car to come around and open the door for her when she could have so easily done it herself and spared Herbert his pain.

He complied.

In the backseat, Chelsea fumed. Nicholas had just humiliated her for the last time.

“Where would you like to go now, Mrs. Pemberton?” Herbert asked.

The lunch date had been nothing more than a lie, but she’d never admit it. “I’m too upset to go anywhere. You can take me back to the penthouse.”

A spark of an idea started to form on the drive home. If it worked, Nicholas Pemberton was as good as dead.

 

Lin and Sally waited outside the SoHo apartment for Jason Vinery. Each wore the secondhand black slacks and shirts they’d purchased at Frugality, and each wore gloves.

Jason said he would provide them with ski masks. They’d disguised themselves with hats and heavy make-up. They barely recognized each other.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lin said as she scanned the street, looking for Jason’s black Lincoln Navigator. “We look like a couple of Forty-second Street hookers.”

Mimicking Zsa Zsa Gabor, Sally said, “I think we look divine,
dahhhling.
Especially these itch-from-hell gloves.”

“If we get caught, you know we’ll be sent away for a while,” Lin stated matter-of-factly.

“What? Are you trying to back out?”

“No, I just want you to be sure you’re in for the long haul. Jason says this will go off without a hitch. I trust him. He hates Nicholas Pemberton as much as I do. He’s not putting his butt on the line just for us, you know?” Lin said.

“I know. I wonder why.”

“I don’t really care what his reason is for wanting to ruin Nick as long as he does what I’m paying him to do.”

“Here he comes,” Sally said. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him not keeping his end of the bargain.”

The shiny black SUV pulled up to the curb. Lin opened the passenger door to the back, where both women climbed aboard. Lin hated SUVs. She’d take her sporty red Porsche any day of the week.

Jason Vinery was the total opposite of what Lin expected when she first met him. On the phone he sounded sexy and self-assured. He
was
very self-assured, but the sexy part had just been her imagination. He stood barely five feet tall. He wore his long brown hair in a ponytail and had two gold hoops in his ears. Lin couldn’t find a part of his exposed arms that weren’t covered in tattoos. She and Sally had both wondered if the tattoos went below the belt. She smiled at the thought.

“Are you ladies ready to have some fun?” Jason inquired as they sped away from the curb.

“I’m not sure what we’re about to do could be classified as fun,” Sally observed.

“You’ll have the time of your life. It’s truly harmless. I promise. I’ve done this a time or two and never once has anyone complained or been hurt. I’ve never been caught, either, but you two already know that. Now, I want to go over our plans one more time.”

Jason repeated his instructions, reminding them of their roles.

Entrance to the penthouse apartment located on Madison Avenue could be attained only by invitation. However, as one of the top PIs in the city, Jason knew that anything could be had for a price. When he consulted Lin, she had been shocked at the amount but had readily agreed to it.

Jason drove to the underground parking garage, where he spoke to the attendant, then left his keys. Once they were out of earshot, Lin spoke up.

“How do you know that attendant won’t inform someone that an unauthorized vehicle is parking in Nick Pemberton’s reserved spot?”

“The guy loves money, and he knows how to cover his ass. Trust me. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to use his services. Don’t worry. Let me do the hard part, and you two ladies simply do what we planned. You ready to rock and roll?” Jason asked.

The women looked at one another.

“I guess it’s now or never,” Lin said.

Sally nodded her agreement.

The trio entered a service elevator located at the back of the underground garage. “This is the elevator the delivery people use. It wouldn’t look right if a pizza was delivered in the main lobby,” Jason said, punching the button that would take them to the penthouse apartment. “Okay, girls, put your masks on. Once we step off the elevator, the security cameras scan the area every fifteen seconds. Remember, look down and walk fast, just the way we timed it. Are we ready?” Jason asked once more before the doors swished open. He wore a white chef’s top, with his hair tucked beneath a white hat. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Lin would have burst out laughing.

Lin and Sally nodded solemnly.

Together, the trio walked quickly out of the line of the security cameras.

“You two stay behind me at all times,” said Jason.

Both nodded their agreement a second time.

“We’re ready,” Lin whispered.

Jason stood as tall as possible, then rang the doorbell to the penthouse. He leaned against the door, hoping to hear footsteps. Nothing. He punched the bell a second time.

All three heard a loud unpleasant voice shouting as they leaned against the door. “Who is it? The doorman didn’t send anyone up here.”

Jason looked at the pair behind him. “It’s now or never.”

Both women stepped back and to the side of Jason, per their instructions. Before anyone could utter a word, the heavy wooden door flew open.

A tall blond woman wearing a pink silk robe stared at Jason. “Who are you?”

“Mr. Pemberton asked me to…” Jason didn’t have to finish the sentence, because he’d jabbed Chelsea in the neck with a hypodermic needle loaded with liquid Valium. In seconds she collapsed like a pile of bricks.

Lin grabbed Chelsea’s arms, and Sally took hold of each leg.

Jason ran ahead of them to open the elevator. The doors parted like the Red Sea.

Once inside the elevator, Lin let go of Nick’s wife. She looked at Jason, her eyes round as dinner plates. “You think she’s all right?

Lord, I would hate to hurt her.”

“Trust me, she’ll be waking up soon enough. I bet you anything you’ll wish she’d stayed out a little longer. Something tells me this is one feisty bitch,” Jason replied.

Sally laughed. “I’ve got the duct tape and blindfold. I won’t hesitate to use it either.”

They stood stock-still as the elevator delivered them to the garage level.

“Girls, you wait here while I get the car. When you see the lights flash on and off, grab her and run like you’ve never run before.

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