Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 (5 page)

That sent a shiver down my spine.

“I’ll let you know when you’re free to go.”

If
I were free to go was probably more like it. There was a very real chance he was going to haul me to the police station and make me give a statement or—even worse—arrest me. I needed to find an attorney fast.

He left the room, and I didn’t waste a second before bolting out of it. There was no sign of Amy or the other detective, but the hall was filled with multiple policemen, all of whom watched me like I was a sideshow attraction as I ducked under the crime scene tape blocking off the hall at the fork. I continued down the hall, unsure of where to go. The logical place was the kitchen, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face my mother.

Unbelievably, people were still partying. Then again, the police probably wanted their witness pool to stick around. Colt still had a line of hotties waiting for drinks, but he abandoned his post and made a beeline for me.

“Magnolia.”

I stopped and spun around.

“What happened? Rumor has it that someone got killed.”

I fought to keep from crying. Crying wouldn’t do me any good at this point. I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell him, but I couldn’t keep the words in. “Max Goodwin. But you can’t tell anyone.”

His eyes bugged out. “What? But I just saw him about half an hour ago.”

“You know Max Goodwin?”

“Everybody in the business knows Max Goodwin. How do you know it’s him? I can’t get a word out of anyone.”

“I was the one who found him.”

He ran a hand over his head. “Shit.” He pushed out a breath, then looked back at the crowd surrounding his bar station. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I was dangerously close to losing it. I needed to go hide alone somewhere. “You go on back to work. I need to find a lawyer.”

His mouth dropped open, and he grabbed my wrist and pulled me aside. “Why do you need a lawyer?”

“Think about it, Colt. Max and I had that huge fight. Then I was the one who found him. The fact that his pants were around his ankles probably doesn’t help, especially since I just accused him of sexual harassment in front of about two hundred witnesses.”

“What?” He shook his head. “So you were the one to call 911?”

“No.” I pressed my knuckles to my bottom lip. “Luke Powell found me kneeling next to the body.”

A new glint of suspicion shone in his eyes. “Why were you kneeling next to Max?”

“Not for the reason you’re thinking. I found him bleeding out on the rug, and I figured I’d better check his pulse. But I couldn’t find one. Then Luke found me next to him . . . I need to find my mother. I really need to find an attorney.” I still wasn’t looking forward to talking to Momma, but I wasn’t sure I had a choice.

He pulled out his phone. “What’s your phone number?”

I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Now is not the time to try to pick me up, Colt.”

He shook his head, but a smirk ghosted across his face. “I never said I was trying to pick you up, Maggie Mae. I’m offering to be your friend if you need one. So what’s your number?”

I rattled it off, feeling like a jerk. “Sorry. I’m just a bit shaken.”

He grinned. “Why? Because you thought I was trying to pick you up? That was at the top of my agenda until you talked to me like I was a naughty schoolboy. Now it’s been moved to second place.”

I shook my head as I headed down the stairs to find my mother.

She was muttering under her breath in the kitchen. Two staff members were in there getting new trays, but they hurried out the moment they saw me. My mother’s gaze lifted to mine, and I was surprised to see the worry there before it morphed into anger.

“Where on earth have you been, Magnolia? The police are here investigating something, and everyone keeps saying there was a murder.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh, looking around to make sure we were really alone. “I was the one to find the body.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What? Who was it?”

“Max Goodwin.” Her blank look told me the name meant a lot less to her than it had to Colt, so I added, “The guy I had that huge fight with.”

She sagged against the stainless steel prep table. “Oh, Magnolia.”

I sucked in a breath. “I know. They’ve already questioned me.”

“Do they think you did it?”

“Honestly? Yes. But I doubt they can do much. Yet. I need to find a lawyer.”

Tilly burst through the swinging door. “I still can’t find her anywhere, Lila,” she said, sounding close to tears. When she saw me standing there, she collapsed on top of the island, her elbow landing in a platter half-filled with cheesecakes. “We thought you were dead, Maggie.”

“Dead?” I blurted out. “Why would you think I was dead?”

“We couldn’t find you anywhere, and we heard someone was murdered. It was the logical conclusion.”

“Well, of course it was,” I said in a snide tone. They had been worried about me, though, and I couldn’t begrudge them that. I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m a little stressed.”

“They think she did it,” my mother said.

“What? Who was killed?” Tilly asked, standing up.

“That asshole she had an argument with earlier tonight.”

Tilly covered her chest with her open hand. “Oh, dear.”

“It gets worse,” Momma said. “She was the one who found the body.”

“Oh, no.” Tilly started to weave in place, and if her pale face was any indication, she was about to faint.

I rushed forward and led her over to the closest chair. I pushed her head toward her knees, and Momma got a clean wet rag and plopped it on the back of her neck.

“Get yourself together, Tilly Bartok. Now is not the time to fall apart.”

Tilly twisted her head to look up at her, and the movement sent the rag tumbling into her lap. “Of course. You’re right.”

“We need to find her an attorney.”

Tilly sat up, nodding her head, slowly coming to her senses. “Got anyone in mind?”

“A lot of someones. The problem is they’ll either cost a fortune or they’re idiots.”

I was in a world of crap. “I don’t have any money.”

My mother put her hands on her hips and gave me a look that told me she thought tadpoles were more intelligent than I was. “No shit, Magnolia. Why else would you show up on my doorstep after a decade? We know you’re desperate and destitute.”

Her tone was harsh, but I saw the pain in her eyes. She was a casualty in the mess I’d stumbled into. Collateral damage. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. I was sorry for so many things, but if I tried to apologize, I’d fall to pieces. Now more than ever, I needed to keep it together.

“What about Mitch Chidsey?” Tilly suggested. “He’s a great defense attorney.”

Momma crossed her arms and shook her head. “He’s pissed at me after I wouldn’t budge on our proposal for his Christmas party two years ago.”

“What about Percy Talbot?”

“He’s an idiot. He lost that trespassing case with Tina’s boy. Even a gorilla in a suit could have won that one.”

They were silent for a moment, and I started to give serious consideration to bleaching my hair and going into hiding. I’d heard the weather was nice in Mexico. Or South America.

“Emily Johnson,” my mother said under her breath. When she looked up at me, her eyes were full of determination. “She’s perfect.”

“Wait.” I sucked in a breath. “You mean Emily Johnson from high school?” When she didn’t answer, I shook my head. “No. No way. How can
she
be perfect?”

“She’s having a big party in another month. I’ll barter for it.”

I turned my head. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to barter catering for legal fees with my worst enemy from high school?”

My mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Magnolia.”

“She hates my guts, Momma! She’ll probably lose the case just to get me back for all the atrocities she’s convinced I committed against her.”

“Oh, my word, Magnolia Steele. Isn’t it time you outgrew your stupid grudge against that girl?”

“She did have a reason, Lila,” Tilly said, getting to her feet. “Emily sabotaged her in the girls’ locker room.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” my mother shouted. “She thought Magnolia stole her boyfriend.” She gave me a haughty look that told me she firmly believed Emily was in the right.

“Emily and Tanner weren’t even dating, Momma. If I had tried to lay claim to all the boys I liked in high school, I would have been enemies with half the school.” I shook my head. “Why are we even discussing some stupid fight from high school? I’m about to be charged with murder!”

My mother pointed her finger in my face. “Well, you better kiss and make up, Magnolia Mae, because that girl is about to save your life.” She pulled out her phone, opened an app, and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed. “You have Emily Johnson’s name on speed dial?”

My mother shrugged. “We have coffee sometimes.”

“Wait.” Tilly put a finger to her chin. “Last I heard, Emily was getting ready to retake the bar. Did she pass this time?”

South America was looking pretty good. Antarctica was looking better.

M
y mother’s
call to Emily was short and sweet, and my name was never once mentioned. She simply explained she had an emergency she needed help with at the Luke Powell estate. Emily agreed to come right away.

“Just how close are you two?”

My mother gave a half shrug and harrumphed.

Cringing a little, which only roused my suspicions, Tilly clasped her hands together. “I’ll get some of the staff to start packing things up.”

I would have given anything to follow her out of the kitchen. Instead I started stacking trays and hauling them out to the vans. I was rearranging some serving dishes in the back of one of the vehicles when a figure streaked past me into the kitchen. All I saw was a glimpse of long black hair against a tan jacket, paired with jeans and tall brown boots.

I hopped out and followed her, entering the kitchen in time to see the woman wrapping my mother in an embrace.

My mother was
hugging
someone?

“Lila, is everything all right? I came as fast as I could.” I hadn’t heard that voice in years, but I would have recognized it anywhere.

Momma broke loose and patted Emily’s arm. “I’m fine. I didn’t call about me.” She looked over Emily’s shoulder at me, giving me a warning look I recognized all too well from childhood.

Emily turned as if in slow motion. Her first reaction was shock, followed fast by anger. Dammit, she was still just as pretty as she had been in high school, actually more so. Her black hair was still long, but the cut was more sleek and sophisticated. She looked slightly older, but she was one of those women who, like a fine wine, improved with age. Her mouth parted as though to say something, then closed as if she’d thought better of it. She took a breath. “Magnolia. You’re back.”

“And already in trouble,” my mother said, crossing her arms.

Emily looked back over her shoulder. “You called me for Magnolia?” She didn’t sound one bit happy about it.

“There was an incident earlier. Magnolia got into a disagreement with one of Luke Powell’s guests. Then an hour later he turned up dead. The guest,” she added as an afterthought. “Not Luke Powell.”

I couldn’t read Emily’s expression when she turned back to me, but I assumed she wasn’t drowning in sympathy. “And Magnolia’s now a suspect.”

“Yes,” my mother answered.

“And you expect me to counsel her?” Her expression was no more transparent now than it had been minutes before, which was almost more unnerving than if she’d reacted with the outright hostility I’d expected.

“If you’re willing.”

The corner of Emily’s mouth quirked into a slight grin, one I recognized all too well. “Then you should plead guilty, Magnolia.”

My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t do it, Emily, but then again, you never were a fan of the facts, were you?”

Emily’s eyes became laser focused on mine. “I had all the facts I needed, Magnolia Steele.”

“Magnolia!” my mother barked. “Emily’s here to help you. The least you could do is be nice to her.”

“Me?” I asked in dismay. “She’s the one who—”

But before I could continue with my rant, Detective Holden opened the kitchen door. “Oh, there you are, Ms. Steele,” he said when his gaze landed on me. “I was having trouble locating you. I thought perhaps you had left the premises.”

Emily gave me a long, hard look, then turned to my mother and squeezed her shoulder. “If you advised my client to stay on the premises, then of course she did,” she said, taking several steps toward the detective. “She’s too intelligent to disregard a police directive.”

I wondered how hard that had been for her to choke out. Kudos to her for making it sound convincing.

“Do you need to question Ms. Steele?” she asked, all business.

A sly grin spread across his face. “I’ve already taken her statement in regard to finding the body.”

“That body was a person, Detective Holden,” she said in a tight voice. “A person with a family and friends.”

I almost corrected her. I was pretty certain Max Goodwin didn’t have any friends, but it was fifty/fifty as to whether my observation would help my case.

“We’re still holding
the victim’s
name until his family has been notified.”

“So will you need to question Ms. Steele further?”

His gaze drifted between the two of us before finally landing on me. “Not at the moment, but we’ll need you to stick around town. I hope you weren’t planning on heading back to New York for another stripper show.” He gave me a lewd wink.

“What are you talking about?” my mother asked him, then turned to me. “What is he talking about, Magnolia?”

“Don’t answer him, Magnolia,” Emily said in an icy tone. “I could file sexual harassment charges against you, Detective.”

His grin spread. “For what? Speaking the truth? It’s out there in cyberspace for anyone to see.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I had no idea I was interviewing a celebrity. I’m really looking forward to speaking with you again.” Then he turned on his heels and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Emily turned to me and said in an accusatory tone, “What did you tell him in your statement?”

“The truth.” Mostly.

“I need the details.” She looked around us. “But not here. Somewhere private.”

“We can go to my house,” Momma said.

Emily paused, biting her upper lip. “No. My office.”

“I can’t leave for another half hour or more.”

Emily gave her a sympathetic look. “I’d like to speak with Magnolia alone, if you don’t mind.”

Momma looked surprised, but she quickly covered it. “Of course. But she doesn’t have a car.”

“I’ll take her to the office and then to your house.”

“She doesn’t have a key,” Momma said. “You’ll have to let her in if I’m not home yet.”

Emily nodded.

She had a key to my mother’s house? Just how close were they? “Hey, y’all! I’m standing right here! Mind including me in this conversation?”

“This might take an hour or more,” Emily said to my mother, ignoring my request.

“You better get going,” Momma said, not looking at either one of us.

I wanted to protest, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of options. My entire life was fresh out of options.

“Come on, Magnolia,” Emily said. I started to follow her, but then a horrifying thought occurred to me. If the detective knew about my infamy, it was only a matter of time before
everyone
knew. Wouldn’t it be better if the information came from me? I turned back to my mother.

“Let me see your phone.”

“What on earth for?” she asked.

“Just give me your phone.”

She pulled it out of her pocket, entered the password, and handed it over.

Magnolia Steele wasn’t exactly a common name, and a quick search was all it took to find a slew of posts about my humiliation. I pulled up a
New York Post
story—it was one of the kinder reports—and handed the phone back to her without fully releasing my grip on it. “After what Detective Holden said . . . you need to see this. You need to be prepared.” I let go and hurried out the door before she could watch it.

Emily led the way to a shiny black BMW. The car chirped and the headlights flashed as I walked around to the passenger door.

Neither of us spoke after we got in the car. Emily simply started driving, west and then south.

Luke lived in the rolling farmland north of the Harpeth River, still in Franklin. The area was full of trees and hundred-year-old low stonewalls. It was beautiful and ordinarily peaceful, but my nerves were on edge and my stomach was churning.

“It hasn’t changed all that much since I left,” I said, looking out the window. “Lots of trees and meadows.”

“Plenty of places to hide bodies,” Emily said dryly, her hands at two and ten on her black leather steering wheel.

“Planning on killing me and disposing of my body?” I asked.

“Please . . .” she drawled. “You wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

I pursed my lips together, too worried to come up with a retort. “Why did you take my case?”

She gave me a look of disgust. “I sure as hell didn’t do it for you.”

“That’s comforting.” I remember her earlier suggestion that I plead guilty. “How do I know you won’t do a bad job of defending me just to make me pay?”

“So you’re admitting guilt?”

“I didn’t kill Max Goodwin.”

“I know that.” She shot me a snide look. “You’re a lot of things, Magnolia Steele, but stupid’s not one of them. If you argued with the asshole in public, you wouldn’t have killed him an hour later.”

“How do you know it wasn’t an act of anger? Or passion?”

She smirked. “That would suggest you had a soul.”

“Wow. Thanks . . . I guess.”

“And I was talking about Tanner McKee.”

“For God’s sake, Emily. He asked me to homecoming twelve years ago. If you wanted him so badly, why didn’t you go after him after I left?”

“He was too devastated to even think about another woman.
Everyone
was devastated after you left,” she sneered. “Everyone but you. But then that was you, narcissistic Magnolia Steele who thought the sun rose and set on her.”

“That is so not true,” I spat out. “And you have no idea what I went through after I left.”

She pulled up to a stop sign and turned her piercing gaze on me. “You’re right, Magnolia. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Oh. Shit. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid
.

I should have never come back, but it was too late for that now. I was good and stuck here. Tears welled in my eyes, so I turned and looked out the window into the dark night.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, turning left. “It was always all about you. I see things haven’t changed. Lila didn’t tell me that you were coming back. I bet you just showed up on her doorstep, nearly giving her a heart attack.”

I wanted to ask her why my mother would have confided in her, but the answer was obvious. My mother had replaced me with my archnemesis.

“So what are you doing back here? Hiding from the press?”

I still didn’t answer, feeling dangerously close to getting sucked into a black hole of despair.

“You were never very good at staying in the background. I see that hasn’t changed either.”

We rode in silence after that, and I was surprised when she headed downtown—even more so when she pulled into the same parking lot my mother used for her business.

Emily started to get out of the car.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” I said, sounding more pathetic than I’d intended.

She stopped, staring at the dark building in front of us. “You want to hire another attorney?”

I knew that wasn’t possible. Momma had hinted that she wasn’t going to pay Emily. Only then did I remember that Momma had said she would barter for her services by catering for a party. Did her party have anything to do with the big solitaire adorning Emily’s right ring finger? But shouldn’t it be on the left if she was engaged?

“Magnolia?”

If she were getting married, who could it be? Was it someone I knew? Did he look like Tanner? I couldn’t help wondering if I’d ever find someone who fit me. Despite how I’d felt years ago, when I was young and in love, it wasn’t Tanner. But maybe Emily was right. Maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe I loved me too much to truly love anyone else.

“Magnolia.” Emily’s voice was softer now, almost gentle.

I turned to face her, trying to remember the last time she’d been nice to me.

“You’re in shock. Everything’s probably all setting in. Let’s go into my office.” She got out of the car. Moments later my door opened and her hand reached in and tugged on my arm.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” I said, my voice breaking. “I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” she said in a soothing tone as she led me across the parking lot to one of the office blocks. She opened the door with a key, then pushed me into the stairwell behind it and locked the door behind us. “Up the stairs.”

She stayed behind me, prodding me up the flight of stairs until I reached the top. A plaque on the door read,
Emily Johnson, Attorney at Law
.

She’d barely passed the bar, yet she had her own law firm? Her rich daddy must have set her up, but the world wouldn’t care. All they’d see was a young woman who ran her own practice.

No wonder my mother loved Emily. She was everything I could never be. Everything she had hoped I would become. Respectable. Normal. Close to home. Her office was literally two doors down from my mother’s business.

Emily opened the office door and turned on a lamp. She led me to a worn sofa, and as I sank into the leather, I realized my face and part of my shirt were wet with tears.

I was in a world of shit.

My sobs broke loose—years of built-up guilt, regret, and loneliness wanted out. The truth was, even when I’d lived in Franklin, I’d always felt alone. But that wasn’t entirely true.

I’d never felt alone with my father.

But he’d left without a trace. No body. No note. No nothing. Rumors had swirled. His biggest client’s wife had disappeared at the same time, taking some of her husband’s money with her. The gossipers claimed Daddy had left us to be with her. Other people whispered that he’d pissed off the wrong people and met an untimely demise. My secret shame was that I’d always hoped it was the latter. It was the only explanation I could accept for his failure to contact me.

Emily sat in a chair by the sofa for a couple of minutes, then stood and handed me a box of tissues. “I’m going to get you some water.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

She walked through a door, leaving me alone. The office was one long room that was divided into two parts by furniture. The sofa was in the front part of the office, along with a matching chair, but deeper into the room—in front of the windows overlooking Main Street—there was a desk and a few chairs. The place was nicely furnished but not ostentatious. Emily’s father had set her up well.

I really didn’t want her as my attorney, but I didn’t have any choice in the matter unless I got a court-appointed one. But I’d seen that John Oliver report on TV about public defenders. As deep as I was, I needed someone who would spend more than seven minutes on my case.