Authors: Josie Belle
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Max said. He had finished his shift at the
pizzeria and had been parking on the street in front of his apartment when Cheryl
and Maggie spotted him. “Courtney thinks if she can prove that Vera cheated on Buzz,
then she can take the whole estate, and Doc has confessed to a murder we are quite
sure he didn’t commit because he’s protecting his wife, who Sam thinks might have
committed the murder.”
“In a nutshell, yes,” Maggie said.
“But that’s crazy,” Max said. “The Franklins aren’t killers. And, as you know, I’m
not an expert on estate law, but it seems to me that once the estate went through
probate and was passed on to Vera, then it became hers to do with as she chose.”
“Except for the letter,” Cheryl said. “Would a judge allow a letter Buzz wrote when
he was married to Vera about not leaving her anything if she cheated, if it was proven
that she did cheat?”
Max blew out a breath. “It’s not impossible, but it is highly unlikely. I mean, that’s
some serious legal-eagle maneuvering. I wonder who her attorney is.”
“Do you think she has one?” Maggie asked.
“She’d have to,” he said. “I only met the woman briefly, but does she strike you as
the type to have come up with this by herself?”
Maggie looked back at Max.
“You’re scary smart. You know that, right?”
Max looked embarrassed. “So I’ve been told. Hey, you’ve got some blue spots on your
nose.”
“Paint, it’s just paint, all right?”
“It’s fine,” Max said with a shrug. “I just thought you should know.”
Cheryl parked in the police station lot, and the three of them climbed out of her
car. While Max and Cheryl headed toward the station, Maggie set off for her car, which
was still parked in front of her shop.
“Where are you going?” Cheryl asked.
“I have a quick errand to run,” Maggie said.
“What is it, Maggie?” Max asked. He didn’t sound thrilled by her self-direction, and
Maggie wondered how much she should tell him.
“I’m going to find out who Courtney’s attorney is,” Maggie said. She stomped her feet
to chase the cold out of them and rubbed her hands together.
“How are you going to do that?” Cheryl asked.
“I’m betting that Bianca knows who it is,” Maggie said. “Courtney strikes me as the
type to hire the best, and she’d definitely want to rub that in Little Sister’s face.
Here’s the thing: I don’t think Sam would approve of me doing this, so if you two
don’t mind, could you not tell him what I’m doing?”
“When he asks where you are, what should we say?” Cheryl asked.
“Tell him I had to run to the shop to close up the windows,” Maggie said. “I plan
to do that later, so it’s not a complete lie. But if you get the chance, tell Doc
the truth. Maybe it will keep him from making more ridiculous confessions.”
“Even if you find out who Courtney’s attorney is,” Max said, “how do you think that
will help us?”
“Well, at the very least we’ll know what we’re up against,” Maggie said.
“I can’t argue with that,” Max said. “Good luck.”
She waved as they headed into the squat red-brick building, and then she hurried to
her own car.
Maggie drove quickly out to the Madison estate. It was completely dark now, and the
night air had a definite pre-winter chill in it. She was glad she had grabbed her
wool coat when she’d left her shop earlier.
As she pulled up in front of the big house, she noted that there were several lights
on. And the front door was wide open, as if someone had left without bothering to
shut it behind them.
So intent was Maggie on the front door that she didn’t notice the person standing
in her car’s path until the headlights shone on the ghostly figure in white running
toward her. Maggie screamed and slammed on her brakes.
“Maggie! Oh, thank goodness! You’ve got to help me,” Bianca cried.
She ran around the front of Maggie’s car, wrenched open the passenger door and jumped
inside as if the car were a life raft in shark-infested waters.
Maggie put a hand on her chest. She was pretty sure her heart had managed to squeeze
out through her ribs in fright.
“What are you doing out here at this time of night?” she asked.
Maggie knew she sounded exactly as she had the night she’d found her daughter, Laura,
climbing back in through her bedroom window one prank-filled Halloween evening that
had left their house woefully low on toilet paper.
“It’s Courtney,” Bianca said through chattering teeth. “She’s gone crazy.”
Maggie turned the vents so that they blasted heat toward Bianca. She appeared to have
just gotten out of the shower. She was wearing a thick, white terry cloth robe. Her
long
brown hair was wet and hung down her back in limp strands. She was without her glasses,
and she squinted at Maggie as if trying to make out her expression.
“Explain,” Maggie said. She fished in her backseat until she found the fleece blanket
she kept for Josh when he fell asleep in his car seat. She wrapped it around Bianca’s
legs, which were an alarming shade of blue.
“I was taking a bath, and I had the radio on,” Bianca said. “I didn’t hear her come
in. I’m not even sure how she got the door unlocked, but the next thing I knew, she
was trying to yank a chunk of hair out of my head.”
“What?” Maggie asked.
Bianca shuddered and burrowed deeper into the blanket. “I got away from her, but then
she tried again, so I knocked her down, grabbed my robe and ran.”
“Outside?” Maggie asked. “You should have run for a phone.”
“I panicked,” Bianca said. Her nose was red, and her eyes were watery with unshed
tears.
“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “I’m here and I have a phone.”
She fished the phone out of her purse. She was about to make the call when she realized
Bianca had been outside for a while. Was Courtney waiting for her to come back inside
so she could ambush her again? Or had something happened to Courtney?
“How long have you been out here?” she asked.
“I don’t know, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes,” Bianca said.
“Tell the sheriff what happened,” Maggie said as she dialed and handed the phone to
Bianca. “I’m going to go check things out. Lock the doors behind me.”
Bianca took the phone, and Maggie left the car running.
The front door still stood open like a gaping mouth, and light poured out as if in
a silent scream. Maggie stiffened her shoulders and walked up the steps. She was nervous,
which was ridiculous. So Courtney had tried to grab Bianca by the hair; she certainly
wasn’t about to do that to Maggie.
The foyer was empty. The sound of a clock ticking was the only noise. It was so quiet
that Maggie could swear she heard the rush of blood pounding in her ears, but maybe
that was just nerves.
“Courtney?” she cried out. “It’s Maggie Gerber.”
She didn’t know what she expected, but the continued ticking of the clock was the
only sound to answer her call.
The house was huge, and she didn’t really want to look for Courtney on her own. The
woman would probably have her carted off for trespassing; still, she thought she should
check a few rooms at least.
She decided to start with the study, as it had a light on. There was a fire going,
and the room was toasty warm. She’d taken four steps into the room when she saw a
shoe lying on its side. It had a spiky heel and was a shade of pink found only on
the underbelly of a flamingo. Not Bianca’s then.
Maggie was drawn into the room with a feeling of dread. She hoped desperately to find
Courtney passed out on the couch, clutching an empty bottle of vodka and a pack of
cigarettes. No such luck.
Courtney was sprawled on the floor. Her luxurious hair covered her face, and from
where Maggie was standing, she couldn’t see if she was breathing.
“Oh no, not again.” Maggie lurched forward and dropped to her knees beside Courtney.
She lifted her up and saw a hypodermic needle on the floor beside her. Maggie stared
stupidly at it, before she turned her attention back to Courtney.
She was still breathing, but it was shallow. Maggie put her fingers to the pulse point
on Courtney’s neck and noted that her heartbeat was sluggish. She lifted one of the
lids of Courtney’s eyes and noticed that her pupils had shrunk to tiny pinpricks amid
the irises.
“Wake up, Courtney,” she said as she lifted her head and patted her cheek. “Wake up.”
Courtney moaned, resisting Maggie and reassuring her that she was not gone yet. Maggie
set Courtney gently back against the floor. She hurried to the desk in the corner
where there was a phone and quickly called 911.
Maggie stayed with Courtney until the EMTs arrived and took over. Hot on their heels
was Sam, who looked as tired as Maggie felt. He and Maggie stood aside, watching while
the emergency personnel took care of Courtney.
“What happened?” he asked.
Maggie told him why she was there. Surprisingly Sam said nothing. She told him about
finding Bianca outside and deciding to come and check for Courtney. Then she held
out the needle that she’d carefully picked up.
“Sam, I found this beside Courtney,” she said.
Maggie had pushed the needle into an envelope she’d found on the desk with the capped
end of a pen.
“I didn’t touch it,” she said.
Sam looked in the envelope and blew out a breath. He was about to say something when
the EMTs loaded up Courtney and headed for the door.
“Thanks, Maggie,” he said. He took the envelope and walked the EMTs out the front
door.
Maggie wasn’t sure what to do with herself, but she felt cold all the way down to
her bones, so she went and stood
by the fireplace, holding her hands out to the flames to warm them up.
Formal portraits in silver frames graced the mantel, and Maggie studied the Madison
faces. The portraits were mostly of Vera, who looked stunning in every photograph,
but a few had Buzz and Bianca as well. Maggie was surprised Courtney hadn’t gotten
rid of them, but she suspected Courtney wasn’t one to spend much time in a study.
Maggie hated to admit it, but as she went down the line and followed Vera back into
her youth, she couldn’t help but see why Doc had fallen for her. She had been a truly
stunning woman. A portrait taken in the eighties showed Vera holding a baby who had
to be Bianca, with a beaming Buzz standing by her side.
Maggie glanced at a picture of Bianca, probably taken while she was in high school.
She was tall and thin, much like Vera had been, but where Vera had sharp, striking
features that captured one’s attention, Bianca’s appearance was always obscured, as
if she was perpetually out of focus.
Bianca’s face was softly rounded, her eyes a pale blue. Maggie tried to remember what
Buzz Madison had looked like, but he had died before she really knew enough to pay
attention to people like the Madisons. The only memory she had of him was at the annual
Memorial Day parade when she was very young.
Maggie’s father had taken her to the parade just months before he’d died, and he had
held her up on his shoulders so she could see. She remembered watching the people
in the grandstand.
Vera had always drawn people’s attention because of her movie-star good looks. Maggie
remembered thinking Vera was beautiful in her white sundress with her auburn hair
falling down her shoulders in a wavy cascade, while the
man beside her had been big and loud in an ugly brown suit with a yellow shirt—it
had been the seventies, after all—and he had seemed to suck up all the energy around
him as if he were greedy for every possible drop of attention.
His hair had been thick and brown, and it stuck up in the back of his head. He had
a solid build and reminded Maggie of a large brick wall. He had shouted and clapped
louder than anyone when the parade participants went by, and Maggie remembered feeling
happy that her dad was a quieter, easier sort of man.
Maggie studied the picture of Buzz as a young man. He had been handsome, but in a
tough-guy sort of way, with a strong nose and a rugged chin. She wondered if that
was why Vera had sought comfort with Doc, a man who was soft-spoken and kind. Maggie
glanced back at Bianca’s picture and realized that she could safely say she saw neither
of her parents in her.
“Maggie, I need to talk to Bianca,” Sam said as he stepped back into the room.
“She’s in the kitchen with Molly,” Maggie said. “Can I come with you? I’d like to
check on her.”
“Sure, you might be of help,” he said.
Maggie followed him through the huge house to the kitchen. It had been modernized
over the years and was a cozy room with granite counters, dark-wood cupboards and
large windows that filled one wall and during the day offered a gorgeous view of the
gardens and sprawling back lawn.
It was dark outside those windows now, causing them to reflect the contents of the
kitchen onto the dark glass like a mirror.
Molly sat beside Bianca at the counter. Bianca had changed into warmer clothes, and
her hair was almost dry.
She had called Molly right after she’d called the police, and Molly had come right
away, bringing Jimmy with her.