Rock Bottom

Book 35: Sisterhood

by Fern Michaels

Genres: Women's Fiction; Thrillers

Synopsis

#1 New York Times bestselling author Fern Michaels continues her long-running and acclaimed Sisterhood series, in which a group of very different women forge a bond to help them right wrongs—especially when the victims are other women. Rock Bottom brings together some of her readers’ favorite characters in an adventure-packed story that will satisfy every Fern fan.

Isabelle “Izzy” Flanders and Yoko Akia are beginning a new project—an indoor/outdoor café that will be the cornerstone of a market village. Izzy knows just where to get the project off the ground: her old college classmate, Zoe Danfield, now vice president of a huge construction corporation. But the Zoe that Izzy reencounters doesn’t seem like her old, confident friend. This Zoe is tense and stressed, and Izzy eventually learns why.
 
Buildings and bridges have been collapsing all over the world, causing hundreds of deaths, and Zoe suspects her firm’s inferior foundation materials are the cause. When she asks questions, she gets told to keep her nose out of what doesn’t concern her. Zoe knows someone has to blow the whistle and reveal the truth. Who better than the Sisterhood? But this adversary has money, power, and resources to match the Sisterhood’s—and no intention of giving up without a fight . . .
 
Praise for Fern Michaels

“Blends suspense, mystery and heartwarming charm.” —Woman’s World on Safe and Sound

Release date: December 26, 2023

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 368

Sample

Isabelle “Izzie” Flanders was going over a set blueprints for a new market village. She and Yoko had won the bid on a project being funded by the local commerce commission. It was going to be the centerpiece of this quaint Virginia town, and the project would require tons and tons of commercial materials. Izzie and Yoko had spent months gathering quotes, designing and redesigning the layout. Now they finally had something they knew would be accomplished with the best materials and workmanship.

Izzie was lost in thought when her phone rang. “This is Izzie.” Her brow furrowed as she listened. “For how long?” She stood erect. “Do you know when you will have an answer?” She pursed her lips. “I see. Uh-huh.” She listened as panic crawled up her spine. “Thank you for letting us know.” She set herself and the phone down simultaneously. She shut her eyes and began tapping her fingers on the long plank worktable. The phone call had not been good news.

Yoko glided into the office carrying samples of potted plants. “Izzie. Look at these! I think they will look fantastic in the planters outside the windows.” She stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Izzie’s face. She quickly set the large box on a side table. “What’s wrong?” Yoko could tell by Izzie’s expression it was more than getting the wrong coffee at the café.

“I just got a call from the general contractor.” Izzie looked up.

“What about?” Yoko took a seat in front of her.

“He said the subcontractor who is going to handle the masonry work is having supply chain issues.”

“Seriously? Still?” Yoko shook her head. “It seems like it’s been years already.”

“There are still a lot of goods in transit. He said in some cases there’s a backlog of eighteen months, depending on what country they’re coming from.” She sighed. “The good news is that when it all arrives, there will be a lot of merchandise in the stores, so there will probably be a lot of things on sale.”

Yoko tried to make light of the situation. “Oh yes! They’ll have bathing suits on sale at Christmas, and Christmas trees on sale in April.”

Izzie snorted. “Swell. Thanks for putting a positive spin on it.” Izzie propped herself up on her elbows, her face supported by her fists. “We planned to break ground in a month.” She let out a big sigh.

Yoko sat silently for a minute. “There has to be someone else who could do the work, no?”

“I suppose, but they might be having the same issues. Plus, it may cost us a lot more than we put in the budget.” Izzie was no shrinking violet, but at that moment she thought she might cry.

Yoko reached for Izzie’s hand. “Alright. Let’s think about this. Anyone you’re still in touch with from engineering school?”

Izzie’s face brightened. “Brilliant, Yoko! Yes! Zoe Danfield. She’s a VP at REBAR. They’re one of the world’s largest suppliers of foundation materials.”

“Okay. There’s a start.”

“But I don’t know if they would want to take on a small job like ours. They do major commercial construction. Bridges, hotels. Stuff like that.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask if she could at least recommend someone.”

“True.” Izzie recalled the time after college when she and Zoe had worked for the same firm. Then Izzie had decided to open her own business and Zoe had moved on to corporate America.

Izzie’s mood brightened as she scrolled through her contact list. She punched in the number and hit the CALL button. Two rings later a voice answered, “Zoe Danfield.”

“Zoe!” Izzie was surprised to hear Zoe’s voice on the other end instead of her assistant. “It’s Izzie!”

“Hey, Izzie. How are you?” Zoe sounded stressed. Tightly wound.

“I’m doing well. And you?” Izzie gave the phone a strange look.

Zoe’s voice was hushed. “Uh, I’m okay. Just a little overworked. You know the feeling.”

“I do indeed.” Izzie was mustering an upbeat response, but sensed something wasn’t right with her friend. “Listen, there’s a project Yoko and I are working on, and we are in dire need of masonry work. The company we had originally planned to use is having a shortage of supplies and we are on a very tight deadline.”

There was hesitation in Zoe’s voice. “I’m not sure how I can be of help.”

“I thought you might be able to recommend someone for me.”

“That’s possible.” Zoe hesitated again. “Perhaps I should come down there and look at your plans.”

“I can send you a zip-file.”

“No, I’d rather review them in person,” Zoe said flatly.

Izzie made another odd face at the phone. “Okay. But I know you’re busy and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“I insist.” She paused. “For old time’s sake.” Zoe’s office was in New York City, so it would be a three-hour ride on Amtrak to Alexandria.

“That would be fantastic!” Izzie was delighted that Zoe could break free from her hectic schedule. “Can you spend the night? We can have a sleepover.” Izzie chuckled. “Like we used to!”

“Only if you promise not to cook.” Zoe’s voice brightened a bit.

“Oh stop. I’ve become quite a good cook. Myra’s husband, Charles, is quite the gourmet and has taught us a few dishes.”

“Myra?” Zoe asked.

“Myra Rutledge.”

“The candy person?”

“One and the same,” Izzie answered, choosing her words carefully. Even though she and Zoe were still in touch, the Sisterhood had never been part of their conversations. She knew she had to clarify a few things, especially if Zoe was coming for a quick visit. “We met at a charity function a few years ago. It was for Animal Care Sanctuary. We discovered we have a few things in common and meet regularly with a small group of other women. That’s how I met Yoko, my partner in this project.” Izzie realized she had said enough and segued into a more neutral subject by mentioning her husband. “Abner is away on business so we can be loosey-goosey.”

“Sounds good.” Zoe’s voice was a bit steadier. “How’s this Friday?”

Izzie checked her desk diary. “Perfect.” That would give them the weekend to discuss what needed to be done so they could hit the deck running on Monday.

“Looking forward to seeing you, Izzie.” Zoe sounded melancholy.

“Zoe? Is everything alright?” Izzie’s intuition was kicking in. Something in Zoe’s voice was off.

“Oh, you know. The usual set of daily upheavals.” She gave a strained laugh.

“I totally get it.” Izzie scribbled a note in her book. “What time will you get in?”

“Noon? Does that work for you?” Zoe asked.

“Absolutely.” Izzie circled the word noon on the calendar. “I’ll pick you up at Union Station.”

“I can take a cab,” Zoe replied.

“You shall do no such thing,” Izzie said with authority. “I’ll be waiting outside the station. Silver Lexus SUV.”

“Great. Thanks, Izzie.”

“I should be thanking you!” Izzie said with a laugh. “See you Friday.” She hung up and looked at Yoko. “Something is up with her.”

“Marriage problems?” Yoko guessed, not knowing Zoe’s situation.

“No. Not married. No kids. No boyfriend that I know of. She travels a lot. Hard to keep something going when you’re on the move.”

“Family?” Yoko asked casually.

“Kinda normal, as far as I can remember. Parents are in Arizona. She has one brother. Pharmacist. Lives in Boston with his partner.” Izzie squinted and cocked her head. “She didn’t sound like her usual self.”

“Could it be a health issue?” Yoko mused.

“Geez, I hope not.” Izzie shook her head. “It’s something else.” She tapped her pencil against her chin.

“Well, don’t go hacking into her email, please.” Yoko gave her a wry smile. “I know you when you want information.”

“Hey, wait a gosh darn second. I have never spied on anyone. Well, not anyone who deserved not to be spied on.” She raised her eyebrows. Yoko knew exactly what Izzie meant. Only a mission was cause enough to dive into someone’s personal data. Once an individual broke the law or inflicted serious harm to a person or animal, all bets were off. There might as well be a big sign with an arrow pointing at their head: DUMBASS. DO WHAT YOU MUST.

“Fair enough.” Yoko nodded. “I’m glad she will be coming in person. People can accomplish much more when there is a dialogue and eye contact in three-dimensional form.” She was being philosophical. “I cannot imagine a virtual floral arrangement. I realize they exist, but it’s such a flat experience. This NFT thing everyone is raving about. Non-fungible token. What is that?”

“It’s all smoke and mirrors if you ask me.” Izzie was busying herself rearranging things on her desk. “How can something that is only digital be worth anything, unless it’s information?” She twisted her mouth. “I don’t get it. We live in a three-dimensional world. And yes, we must rely on technology to get a lot of our work done. But the result is something you can touch, smell, see. Too many people depend on illusions for their reality.”

Yoko folded her arms. “I completely agree with you, but I think you are on the verge of waxing a bit more philosophical than usual.”

Izzie looked up from the pile of papers she had put back in order. “Huh. You are right. I guess it’s because we are constantly faced with challenges and I believe if we are calm and thoughtful we can find a solution.”

“Again, you are sounding more Zen than usual.” Yoko smiled.

“It’s your influence on me.” Izzie smiled back.

“I think we need to take a few deep breaths and then get something to eat,” Yoko suggested.

“But it’s only three o’clock.” Izzie double-checked the time.

“Ice cream does not work by the clock.” Yoko grinned.

“Now that is what I call a splendid idea.” Izzie felt much more relaxed knowing there might be a light at the end of the tunnel and it wasn’t an oncoming train. She grabbed her cell phone, and they walked the half block to Lickety Split. Izzie ordered salted caramel in a sugar cone and gave it a taste. “We should do this more often.”

Yoko nodded as she wiped the dribbling chocolate swirl from her chin.

The two sat on one of the benches under a small grove of trees. Izzie squinted again, a sign she was thinking hard, as if she was trying to see what was in her brain. “They should make it a law that everyone must have at least one ice cream cone a week. I think that would really help in our angst-ridden society.” Izzie swirled her tongue around the creamy mixture. “Think about it. When you are eating an ice cream cone, you’re really focused on the task at hand. Otherwise, it would be all over you or on the ground. Multitasking is not an option.”

Yoko giggled. “You have a good point, great wise one. Now if you would shut up and eat your cone, you would be practicing what you are preaching.”

Izzie gave Yoko an elbow tap that knocked her hand into her face, smearing chocolate up her nose.

“Ugh!” Yoko blurted. She grabbed a napkin and removed the excess from her nostrils. Izzie was doubled over laughing. Once she regrouped, Yoko announced, “You can add, ‘sitting six feet away from someone who is eating a cone.’ ”

Izzie looked at Yoko’s face. She still had a mustache of dairy and sprinkles hanging above her lip. Izzie went into a tailspin of hysterics while Yoko continued to clean up her mess. Yoko sneered as she dabbed her face with the balled-up, used napkin. “Yes, there should be an ‘eat your ice cream alone’ rule.”

Izzie jumped up and dashed back into the shop, grabbed a bottle of water and a few more napkins. She plunked down several one-dollar bills. “My friend doesn’t know how to use a cone,” she joked.

Ruby, the owner, smiled. “If you say so.” She gave a wink and gestured toward the front window, where she’d had a bird’s-eye view of the incident. While Izzie and Yoko weren’t regulars, everyone knew each other in the village green area.

Izzie returned to a sticky Yoko and offered her the cleanup items. As Yoko removed the last of the red and yellow sprinkles, Izzie marched back into the shop and bought another cone for Yoko. “Make it a double.” Izzie leaned on the counter and peered over the edge. “Got any towels back there?” she asked jokingly.

Ruby handed her a stack of paper towels. “This should do it.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If not, I can’t help ya gals.” She snickered as Izzie took the cone and carefully returned to her ice-creamed friend.

Izzie held out the cone with one hand and a pile of napkins in the other. “Sorry, Choco-Yoko.”

“Funny. Ha. Ha.” Yoko swapped the soiled, ice-cream-laden napkins for the clean paper towels and grabbed the cone from Izzie’s fist. “You may have redeemed yourself.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, concentrating on their cones, before Izzie spoke. “Depending on who Zoe can recommend, we may need to adjust our budget,” she said contemplatively.

“And our profit,” Yoko added between licks.

“As long as we don’t lose money we should be alright. We have about twenty thousand in reserve, although I’d hate to have to dip into that.”

“Agreed.” Yoko took another wipe at her chin.

“Well, let’s not worry about it until we must worry about it. Remember what Annie always says: ‘Worry is like paying a debt you don’t owe.’ ”

Yoko gave her a sideways look. “I agree with that concept. Wait until it becomes a problem and then put energy into solving the problem.”

“Bingo!” Izzie resisted the temptation to poke Yoko again. One ice cream mess was enough for the day.

When they had finished their treats, they strolled back to Izzie’s office. “Let’s check out your samples.” Izzie looked at the long, white box Yoko had carried in earlier.

Yoko pointed to some of the more unusual plants. “We can do Achillea millefolium, also known as white yarrow, for the summer. It has clusters of creamy white flowers. I’ll leave room for some exotic annuals.” She pulled the sketches of the gardens from her messenger bag. “This will have hydrangeas and boxwood. Then in this corner we’ll do a winter mixture of purple moon grass and euonymus.” Yoko’s passion for plants came through like a giant beam of light. “Then we’ll put these in the shaded area,” she said, tapping on the photos of the hostas, hellebore, Epimedium and spiderwort. “Together, these varieties should create a tapestry of green.”

“Yoko, I think you have outdone yourself. It is going to be magnificent.”

Yoko bowed in gratitude. “I want people to really look at the plantings as something artful. Not just a bunch of bushes and flowers.”

“I think you have that mastered.” Izzie gave her a fist bump. High fives had been the “Sister Salute,” but after COVID they’d adopted the fist bump as their new gesture of appreciation and accomplishment. “Floral and landscaping design is an art form for sure.”

“That reminds me—do you remember Myra’s friend Camille Pierce? From New York?” Yoko asked.

“Vaguely. Involved in the arts? Married to a banker?”

“Yes. Myra told me that Camille introduced her to a woman outside of Ashville, North Carolina. Ellie Stillwell. Ellie built an art center and had the interior and exterior landscaped by a local artist, and it’s gone on to win awards.”

“I heard about that place. Sounded remarkably interesting.”

“Yes. Made me think about expanding my business.” Yoko looked at Izzie. “After our project, of course.”

“Well, if we can get this masonry issue sorted and we accomplish what we have in mind, you will be in high demand. That much I am certain of.”

“I feel as if I need to stretch myself a bit. Don’t get me wrong. Our business is doing very well. But I think I would like to create more spaces with the plants that I grow,” Yoko said thoughtfully. “I nurture them while they grow, and then I sell them. Once they leave the nursery, I have no control over what happens to them.”

Izzie chuckled. “Aw, you sound like a mommy whose kids are all grown up and are leaving home.”

“Well, it’s not that different.” Yoko pouted.

“I know. I know. They are your babies. I get it.” Izzie winked. “But I also think you have a very good idea.”

“It came to me while I was working on these sketches. Why haven’t I been doing this all along?” She gave herself a slight smack on the forehead. “Duh.”

“It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you don’t stop,” Izzie reminded her friend.

“I think you have been channeling Confucius today.” Yoko grinned. “And for my family’s sake, let’s include Chansu wa jibun de tsukuru mono, which means ‘You create your own opportunities.’ ”

“Exactly!” Izzie’s mood was improving as the day moved on.

Several years earlier Isabelle Flanders had been an up-and-coming architect, with her own firm and a fiancé. One night she went out with several friends. They were celebrating the promotion of one of their colleagues at a large industrial commercial firm. After hours of many rounds of alcoholic libations, Izzie decided to call it quits. She’d only had two drinks that night, but didn’t want to get behind the wheel of her car. One of her colleagues, Rosemary, appeared to be abstaining from the drinks and offered to drive Izzie home.

Thinking her friend was better equipped to make the journey, Izzie had handed her the keys. The women got into the car and started home. A few miles down the road, Rosemary decided to put the pedal to the metal and started zooming down the highway. The car hydroplaned, crashing into another vehicle and knocking Izzie unconscious. When she finally came around, she noticed the strong smell of whiskey on her clothes and a police officer shining a flashlight into her face.

“Have you been drinking, miss?” It was a rhetorical question.

A dazed Izzie looked around and discovered she was the only person in the car. In the driver’s seat. “Where is . . .” She was stunned and confused. She did not recall getting behind the wheel.

“Where is what?” the officer asked.

“My . . . my friend,” she stuttered.

“There is no one here but you, miss. Do you know where you are?” He pursued his line of questioning.

Izzie tried to stand but her head was spinning.

“Looks like you got yourself banged up there, miss. But you’re in better shape than the rest of them.” He eyed her closely.

“Who? What? What are you talking about?” Izzie held up her hand to block the searing light in her eyes.

“The people in the other vehicle,” he said bluntly.

“I don’t understand.”

“I am going to have to ask you to step out of the car.”

As the numbness began to fade, Izzie tasted something strong and sour on her lips. Whiskey. She never drank whiskey. Izzie slowly climbed from the driver’s seat and steadied herself against the car door.

“License and registration, please.”

Izzie blinked several times. “In my purse.” She paused for a moment. “Passenger side.” She was certain she had been sitting there, but with the lights, sirens, and the smell of alcohol, she wasn’t sure if this whole thing wasn’t a bad dream. “Officer? I am certain there was someone with me. Someone else was driving. My friend and colleague, Rosemary.”

He gave her a stone-faced look. “I can tell you that you are the only person on the scene, except for the three dead bodies being lifted into the coroner’s van.”

Izzie’s legs began to tremble. What was happening? She moved toward the hood and leaned against it. Think. Think!

The officer pulled Izzie’s purse from the right side of the car, rifled through it, and found her wallet. He took her driver’s license and opened the glove compartment, where most people keep the registration and insurance documents. They all matched. Isabelle Flanders. He walked over to where Izzie was slumped in a crumpled mess.

“Isabelle Flanders, I am placing you under arrest for driving while intoxicated and vehicular homicide.”

Izzie turned and retched all over her shoes. The stench of alcohol mixed with vomit was overwhelming. Even she would assume she had been on a bender.

“Officer, this is all a big mistake.”

“I know. That’s what they all say.” He brought her to his patrol car and placed his hand on her head as he assisted her into the back.

Finally, Izzie was able to focus on the scene. It was horrific. Two ambulances remained silent. Several police cars had their flashing lights in motion as the medical examiner’s van pulled away. The other car was completely crushed like an accordion. From what she could tell, the car had been T-boned and pushed into a guardrail. She peered past the chaos and saw a shadowy figure in the distance. Izzie recognized her. It was Rosemary. Izzie began pounding on the window. “Rosemary! Rosemary!” The woman turned and spotted Izzie, turned again and made a beeline into the darkness. Izzie shouted to the police officer standing closest to the squad car. “Sir! Officer!”

He strolled over to the window. “Yes?”

“There was another person in the car. She was driving. I just saw her in the distance. It was Rosemary!” Izzie insisted. “She ran the other way.”

The officer smirked and nodded. “Good story.” He glanced in the direction where Izzie was pointing, but there was no one there. He tsked and walked away.

Tears came streaming down Izzie’s face. How could this be happening? She tried to quiet her nerves, assuring herself everything would be sorted out. She would give them her statement, then they would question Rosemary, and the matter would be cleared up.

But that’s not what happened. The following day, when the police questioned Izzie’s colleague, she said she knew nothing of the situation. Yes, she and Izzie left the pub around the same time, but Izzie drove off by herself. None of that was true, but Izzie couldn’t prove it. Unbeknownst to Izzie, Rosemary carried a flask in her purse to offset the effects of the cocaine she took regularly. The cocaine that had prompted her to drive so fast that night.

When the collision occurred, Izzie had struck her head on the car window, knocking her unconscious. Rosemary saw the opportunity to pull Izzie into the driver’s seat and pour the remains of her flask into Izzie’s mouth and on her clothes. There was no way Izzie was going to get out of the legal nightmare Rosemary had entrapped her in. And she didn’t. Izzie spent a few years in jail. Her former fiancé eventually became betrothed to Rosemary, and her architectural firm fell apart. Her life was in ruins. That was until she met Myra Rutledge.

Zoe Danfield grew up in the rural town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The county seat of Mason County, it sits at the convergence of the Ohio and Kanawha Rivers. The town is designated on the National Registry of Historic Places. Locally, Point Pleasant is celebrated as the “F. . .