Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 (27 page)

I
woke
up to sunshine in my face. I rolled onto my back with a groan and covered my eyes with my forearm. Another fitful night of sleep troubled by guilt and fear and nightmares. Maybe going back to New York would ease my troubled mind.

But my heart was heavy with the knowledge that I’d have to tell my mother I might be leaving again.

I found Momma at the breakfast table nursing a cup of coffee. A brown leather album lay on the table to one side. She was staring out the windows at the woods.

I poured my own cup of coffee and sat down next to her, both of us still silent.

“I keep thinking of that night,” she said at last. “And the next morning. I’ve replayed it a million times in my head. What I could have done differently. What I shouldn’t have said.”

“You were scared, and when you get scared, you get pissed.”

“It still doesn’t make it right, Magnolia. I . . .”

I covered her hand. “It’s over and done, Momma. I don’t resent you.”

“You must. You never came back.”

“But I came back last week.”

She took a sip, then lowered the cup to the table. “You’re leaving again.”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe. My agent called yesterday and told me I can probably get my job back.”

“When?”

“If I take the part, I need to be in New York by the middle of the week.”

“But you’re still under suspicion.”

“I know. I’m hoping to be cleared today or tomorrow.”

She flinched and was silent for several seconds before her eyes locked with mine. “And you’d take it? After what that man did to you?”

I pushed out a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t want to work with him again, but this could be a defining moment in my career.”

“Is that how you want your defining moment to be forever marked in history? Built on a scandal? You showing your tits on stage and knockin’ over a set?”

I leaned back my head and groaned. “Momma.”

“Magnolia, listen to me. You’re good. I know you are. I read the reviews.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

She nodded. “The theatre is important to you. Important enough to keep you from coming back. If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me. So I’ve paid attention.” She slid the album toward me, her fingers gliding over the top.

I opened the cover and flipped the page, shocked to see a playbill from my first play, an off-Broadway production of
Sense and Sensibility
, stuffed inside a plastic envelope. I pulled it out, and sure enough, my name was listed in the cast.

“How did you get this?”

“eBay. Friends. Some I went to see myself.”

“You came to see some of my plays and didn’t tell me?”

She shrugged.

I returned the playbill to the envelope and continued flipping through the album. She had a playbill from every production I’d ever been in and reviews from the later ones in which I’d had more substantial parts.

A lump filled my throat. “Oh, Momma . . .”

“I know this is important to you. I know you need to go back, but there’s something I have to tell you first.” She looked into my eyes. “I have cancer.”

The blood rushed from my head.

“Nobody knows but Tilly. And I only told her because we need to get the business sorted out.”

My mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. “Why would you need to get your business sorted out?”

She gave me a wry grin. “You’re a smart girl, Magnolia. You know.”

Tears burned my eyes. “What kind?”

“It’s in my blood.”

I shook my head. “Can’t they give you chemo or radiation?”

“They already have.”

“How long have you known?” I asked in dismay.

“Two years.” She sighed. “But it’s not working anymore.”

Panic swarmed around my head like a cloud of bees. “We’ll get a second opinion. We’ll go see a specialist. There’s a great hospital in New York—Memorial Sloan Kettering. Jody’s grandmother went there.” I choked back my tears. “We’ll find someone. We’ll—”

Momma leaned over and pulled me into a hug. “Maggie. I’ve seen all the doctors. They all say the same thing. There’s nothing left to do.”

That was the first time she’d called me by my nickname in years. But I was too focused on her pronouncement to dwell on it. “How long?” My face was buried against her neck, so all my words sounded muffled.

“Maybe six months. Maybe three.”

I leaned back to look into her face. “
Three
?”

“I didn’t want to tell you, but Tilly insisted. Said she’d tell you herself if I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t
you
tell me?”

“Just because I’m losing my life doesn’t mean you can’t live yours.” She pushed out a sigh. “If I had my way, none of you would find out until the day I die. The last thing I want is everyone tiptoeing around me.”

I stood and began to pace.

“I want you to go back to New York, Magnolia. I want you to live your life. But I want you to do it on your own terms, not some womanizer’s, you hear?”

I nodded, tears streaming down my face.

She stood. “I need to get ready for work.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Magnolia.”

“Shut up, Momma. I’m coming,” I said.

That surprised us both, and my mother broke out into laughter. “Maybe you’re more like me than I thought.”

I worried that Momma would leave without me, but I took my time getting ready. I was meeting Roy at two, and damn it all, I wanted to look my best to meet my prick of a brother and address his offer.

Momma was waiting for me when I came downstairs. She gave me a smile as she looked me up and down, taking in my lightweight pink tunic sweater, white jeans, and the strappy pink heels that made me taller than her. She patted my cheek. “You’re just as beautiful on the inside, Magnolia. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”

Tilly declared me too pretty to be filing in the dirty basement. Instead she stationed me in the front room beside the kitchen. She and Momma had clients coming in around eleven, and my job was to greet them and let Momma and Tilly know they were there. But they weren’t coming for another half hour, so I could do as I pleased.

I opened the blinds and settled behind the desk, all the while trying to wrap my head around the fact that my mother was dying. I was studying the appointment book, thinking Momma and Tilly really needed to get into the twenty-first century and put their appointments on a computer, when the front door opened.

“Emily.” I cringed when I looked up at her. “I know you’re here to yell at me.”

“No, actually . . . I have some news.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“I went by Luke’s this morning to talk to Amy, but he was fit to be tied. She was supposed to show up at seven. I got there at eight and she still hadn’t arrived.”

“Last night, I saw her packing a suitcase. Do you think she took off?”

She took a breath, looking solemn. “Luke sent one of his bodyguards over to her apartment to check on her and make sure she was okay.” She paused. “Magnolia, she’s dead.”

“What?” The blood rushed from my head, and I sat down on the sofa. “How?”

“It looks like suicide.”

I shook my head. “No. I just saw her last night. I told you—she was packing a suitcase.”

“And she bought a plane ticket to the Cayman Islands with Luke’s credit card. Her flight left this morning, but it looks like she decided she couldn’t leave.”

“No!” I said, standing and beginning to pace. “How do you know she wasn’t murdered? They just made it look like suicide.”

“Magnolia, she left a note.”

I shook my head. “Anyone could have forged that.”

Emily moved in front of me and looked into my eyes. “Magnolia. The note was written to Luke. There were things in there that only the two of them would know.”

“To
Luke
? Why?” Then I realized. “She loved him. She was telling him goodbye.” I just couldn’t believe it. This felt so wrong. “Did she say why she killed herself?”

“She thought she was going to be arrested. They figure she didn’t want to disgrace him with her arrest.”

“But did she actually admit to killing either of them?”

“She didn’t have to. Her fingerprints were all over the handle of the knife that was used to kill Neil Fulton.”

I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Why are you taking this so hard?” Emily asked, looking genuinely puzzled. “You hardly knew her, and this clears your name.”

I sucked in my bottom lip as guilt settled on my shoulders like a familiar yoke. “Because I knew she wasn’t right last night. I sent Belinda a text and you an email—” I gasped. “Oh, my God. Belinda. I have to tell her.”

“I already did.”

“Is she mad at me?”

“Why would she be mad at
you
?” Emily shook her head. “I swear, you have to be one of the most narcissistic people I know.” But the words didn’t carry any heat.

“Last night I asked Amy if she’d killed them. I told her I knew about her contract with Max. I pushed her to this.”

“That’s bullshit. And more narcissism. You said she was packing when you showed up. She bought the plane ticket late yesterday afternoon.
You
did not do this.
She
did this.”

I let that soak in for a few moments before I asked, “So what happens now?”

“The Brentwood police are working the scene, but I’m sure the Franklin police will notify me today that you are no longer a person of interest.”

“And then I’m free to go?” I asked.

“You mean back to New York? Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m about to get offered my old part back. And a raise.”

“Well, congratulations if that’s what you want,” she said, adjusting her purse strap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Ten years ago you ran away from something, Magnolia,” she said, holding my gaze. “Has it occurred to you that you need to face what you ran from before you can move on with your life?” Then she turned around and walked out the door.

Emily had no idea what she was asking. I’d thought so too until I’d discovered the truth. Now I wasn’t sure what I should do.

She’d just walked past the window when my phone dinged with a text. I’d hoped to hear from Belinda, but it was from Jimmy.

Congrats, doll! You got your part back. Astronomical offer. Call me
.

I should have been elated. Not only had I gotten back the part I loved, but I would be making a lot more money and Griff would have to kiss my ass. But after my mother’s announcement, I wasn’t sure I could leave.

My heart was divided between the stage and my mother. How was I going to choose? Then Jimmy sent me a follow-up text saying that if I took the offer, I had to be in New York by tomorrow, which only threw me into more confusion and uncertainty.

Momma’s clients showed up at eleven. She and Tilly took them to the back, and I decided to expand Momma’s spring cleaning to the obviously seldom-used front room.

At around 11:30, the bell on the door rang and I looked up to see Belinda standing in the doorway, her hand twisting a handful of her skirt. She offered me a hesitant smile as she asked, “Would you like to go to lunch?”

Despite Emily’s insistence, I couldn’t help worrying that Belinda blamed me for pushing her friend too far. “Yeah. Let me tell Momma.” But she was busy with her client, so I sent her a text telling her that I was going to lunch with my sister-in-law but would be back soon.

We walked down to the deli where I’d met Brady. I felt a little twinge, but I told myself it meant nothing. Brady meant nothing. My life here in Franklin meant nothing. I had a life in New York I needed to get back to. But I wasn’t really buying it.

We ordered our lunch and found a table. An awkward silence descended between us as we waited for our food, and finally I couldn’t take any more. “Belinda, I’m so sorry about Amy.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to see her last night.”

Belinda searched my eyes. “I don’t think it would have mattered, Magnolia. I find it so hard to believe that she killed those men. But she was under a lot of stress, and I guess she just snapped.”

“But you knew her,” I said. “Do you really think she was capable of
murder
?”

Her gaze locked on to a spot on the wall across the room. “I used to think people were incapable of all sorts of terrible things.” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “But sometimes I think there’s a monster in all of us.”

I suppressed a gasp. Was Belinda talking about my brother or herself?

But she didn’t give me time to dwell on it before she said, “I didn’t know she was a cutter either.”

I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

She turned to face me. “The police asked me questions this morning. They wanted to know if I’d known if Amy was into cutting.”

I released a tiny shudder. “Was she?”

“Not that I knew of, but they said she had several marks on her legs. Only more proof of her stress, I guess.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

The woman at the counter called our names, and Belinda jumped up, grabbed the bags, and brought them back to the table.

“I know the details of Roy’s offer,” Belinda said, keeping her eyes on the sandwich she was unwrapping. “I want to apologize.”

I hesitated, unsure what to say before settling on, “It’s not your fault.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, her expression guarded. “Are you going to take it?”

I was sure Roy insisted that Belinda tell him everything. It was how men like him kept control. But he didn’t know Belinda had spent the day with me on Saturday, which told me she didn’t always carry out his orders. At the same time, I didn’t want to put her on the spot by asking her to keep something from him—even if it was just for a few hours. “I’m going to see him.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding deflated. “So you’re leaving.” Her gaze lifted to me. “I know it’s part of the deal.”

“If I accept my part back, then I should probably leave tonight. I’d have to be at work by tomorrow afternoon.”

“They’re offering you back your part?”