The Sisters conferred. The final consensus was, not long at all. Newsom squealed again and fainted for the second time in a few minutes. The two surrogates sat huddled together, holding hands, as they tried to grapple with the craziness surrounding them.

Maggie was still texting, but she kept one eye on what was going on. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“We don’t have a whole lot of time here, girls. We need that information, and we need it now,” Nikki said. “It’s obvious he was born stupid and never corrected the situation. Start with his thighs, Kathryn, and work upward. Alexis and Annie are going to start on Newsom. Wonder how those fake boobs are going to hold up under all that tar.”

“Well, dear, this is just a guess on my part, but I assume they’ll go flat. They use this stuff on roads for a reason. Cars go over it, and it packs down and becomes flat,” Annie said with all the authority she could muster.

“That makes sense, Annie,” Yoko observed, pointing to her own magnified breasts, which had come with a code number.

Resigned to the inevitable, Adel Newsom lay quietly, staring at her lover’s things next to her. She sniffed. Everything smelled like the after-shave and cologne he drenched himself in, believing more was better. Even now the scent was almost overpowering. “Why don’t you call his wife and ask her if Baron has a safe at home? I never believed she was the dimwit he made her out to be.”

“Shut up, Adel, and leave my wife out of this. I do not have a safe at home.”

“Like we’re really going to believe you!” Kathryn said as she slapped a hefty amount of tar onto Bell’s right thigh. “This goes on soooo easy. Shucks, we’ll be done in no time. You enjoying this, Mr. Bell?” Bell flinched when she slapped another glob onto his left thigh. “We’re getting there, sweetie. Next glob hits the mark.”

“Maggie, dear, do you have your camera ready?” Myra asked.

“Right here,” Maggie said, holding up her left hand. “Just tell me when he’s covered and hanging from the shower rod. I’m putting him on the front page!”

“Will you stop this crap already? You’re just trying to scare me! Well, guess what? Baron Bell doesn’t scare!”

“Guess what, Mr. Bell? This vigilante never says anything she doesn’t mean.” A load of tar hit the mark just as Kathryn finished speaking.

Myra noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see Charles standing in the doorway. His face was whiter than the snow outside. “Not now, Charles. We’re rather busy at the moment.”

Charles turned and fled back to the bedroom.

“Flip him over, girls!” Kathryn said, dipping her brush into the bucket of tar.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17