the White House at any time of the day or night, whereas the others have to make an appointment and go through all that Secret Service rigmarole. Moss just acted like he owned the joint. Hey, you heard all the rumors, read all the write-ups about the guy. It was all true. Not sure now, though. Then there are all those whispers about a little black book. It’s like where there’s smoke, there’s fire. He has a file, or so the whispers go, on every politician and advisor in the administration. Who knows if it’s true or not, but you have to ask yourself how those whispers started in the first place.
“Things started going south when the industry got wind of the dubbed-photo campaigns. And then the gossip started. Where was Amalie? Why wasn’t she seen in person? Moss’s response when the French asked was she was in America adjusting to her new home. When the American media asked, she was in Paris doing a photo shoot. That got real old real quick. When I went through his financials, I saw that he spared no expense to find her. He went through private detective agencies like I go through Diet Pepsi. Which says a lot for Pearl and her underground railroad. Moss had the best of the best, and they couldn’t find her. Which, by the way, leads me to another question. What are you guys going to do about your . . . um . . . guest back there in the dungeon? She’s been screaming and hollering like a banshee for hours now.”
“Let her. Maybe if we’re lucky, she’ll lose her voice entirely. But to answer your question, we haven’t decided yet what to do with her,” Annie said briskly. “Anything else you think we should know?”
“One other thing. In his desperate bid to bring the company back up to snuff, Moss circulated a rumor. At least I think it’s a rumor because I can’t find any data to back it up. He’s saying his chemists at La Natural have developed something that is so revolutionary it will put Botox and all those other . . . things ladies use to fill in their cracks, I mean wrinkles, out of business. Whatever. That got him a couple of spikes in the media and the trades. He also alluded to the fact that Amalie would endorse the product by saying that when she feels she might need a little extra help with the fine lines and wrinkles, she will definitely use the product.”
“Well, now, that’s downright cheeky on his part, wouldn’t you say so, Myra?”
“I would, Annie. Amalie did say something about that earlier. But how would she know unless it was something in the works before she left Moss? Maybe the guy plans ahead.”
“Anything else, Abner?”
“I think that about covers it for now. Is there anything else you want me to dig into?”
“Not at the moment. Are you coming topside, or are you staying down here?” Myra asked.
Abner looked at the oversize watch on his wrist. “I still have some stuff I want to go through. I’m not real happy with some of the accounts I’ve gone through. The guy is tricky; he hides stuff like a pack rat. I’ll find it, though, it just takes time. I assume you want me to earmark enough money to last Amalie and her friend Rosalee, not to mention both sets of parents, their lifetime, right?”
“Yes, of course. Amalie and Rosalee deserve a rich payday for all they’ve been put through by that man. Be generous, Abner,” Myra said.
Abner laughed as he rubbed his hands together. “There’s nothing I love more than giving away other people’s money. Even with La Natural tanking, the man has a vast fortune.”
“Not for long.” Myra and Annie laughed as they made their way to the main part of the house.
Back outside on the terrace, the women noticed that Maggie and the boys had just arrived. Chatter was at an all-time high as Maggie regaled everyone with their visit to Lincoln Moss’s estate. They all tried to ignore the tenseness in Amalie’s shoulders and her white face. Nikki reached out, and clasped her hand, and squeezed it. Yoko stroked her shoulder with one of her tiny hands. Amalie calmed almost instantly, and she even smiled.
Maggie finally wound down after she gave a description of what Lincoln Moss was wearing. “And the best part, ladies and gentlemen, is this. He didn’t even ask where I got his