Thom grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, it is. Lily was beautiful. She supported John here, and he supported her with her career. He’s a loyal man.”
“And Lily?”
“I won’t speak ill of the dead,” he said.
“This is an investigation into her death, and since it’s my job to figure out what happened, I appreciate your full cooperation.”
“There was infidelity,” he muttered. “I guess it was a one-time thing. A big mistake on her part. They split for a little while there, and John was a mess, but he took her back.”
“Did she come asking for forgiveness?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know the details. She was back in his life…our lives, and things just kept getting better—that’s all I know. They seemed better than ever.”
“I appreciate you speaking with me,” she said. “If you remember anything else, please give me a call.”
He nodded and took her card. “Say, have you taken over the case?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well Mac was already in here and asked me questions, but I see you’ve got a bigger title.”
Grace shook her head. “It’s my case too.”
Thom nodded once before Grace turned and walked out the door.
Thom seemed to be hiding something, and with such loyalty to his friend and business partner, she couldn’t blame him, but she needed to figure out why he wouldn’t give a straight answer about John’s state of mind and mood that morning.
Stressed.
Not a good sign.
She grabbed her cell phone and opened Madigan’s texts to find two, the one she partly read, and an earlier one she missed.
I met John. He knows who we are. Call me when you get this.
I’ll be at the dinner from hell, but that’s not until seven. Call me before then, please. You need to hear this. Don’t be mad at me.
At ten to seven, Grace hoped Madigan would answer as she hit the call button.
Why did you meet with John? Looking for trouble again?
The doorbell rang just before Madigan’s cell phone vibrated on the counter, playing a Foo Fighter’s song.
“That’s your ring tone?” Will asked, stirring pasta.
Madigan stopped chopping peppers and stared up at Will.
He’s judgy because he’s stressed.
“I wanted something different than the standard chimes,” Madigan said, wiping her hands on a towel. “It’s Grace.”
“Can it wait?” Will asked.
She’d already disappointed him by arriving home at the same time he had after picking up all the groceries and alcohol. She told him the store check-out lines had been through the door instead of why she’d really gotten hung up.
She bit her lip as the doorbell and her cell rang again. “I think it’s important,” she whispered.
“I’ll get the door, then; you get the phone,” Will said and started for the foyer.
Madigan picked up the phone as Will left the room. She’d promised him he’d have her full attention, and she was already breaking it.
She set the phone down without answering and rushed to his side. He opened the door, and his mom and dad stood on the stoop, both dressed for the country club.
His dad held a black box with gold lines around the middle, no doubt his fancy cigars to celebrate Will’s latest accomplishment. His mom held out a bottle of champagne, much more expensive than the one Madigan had bought on a whim, and she took it.
“Thanks, Maureen.” Madigan smiled. “Come on in.”
Will wrapped his arm around her, and they backed up as his parents came in.
“Thank you for having us.” Maureen wrapped her arms around Will, pulling him away from Madigan. “We’re just so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Will said, and his dad gave him a pat on the back.
“Can I get you both a drink?” Madigan asked. “Chardonnay, Maureen?”
“Oh, I think I’ll have a scotch,” his dad said, nodding and smiling at her. “Maureen loves vodka martinis. Think you could whip her up one with a twist?”
I guess I spent sixty dollars on her favourite wine for no reason.
“Sure,” Madigan said. “Coming right up.”
Will kissed her cheek before she scurried off to the kitchen and ushered his parents down the hall toward the living room at the back of the house. She picked up her cell phone, hitting Grace’s number.
“Madigan,” Grace answered. “Why did you meet with him? What did you find?”
“I went back to Evette’s, and please reserve your judgment for later,” Madigan said, taking glasses from the cupboard. “John was there. I watched him go in, and he was there for, like, an hour before I—I went in too.”
“You stayed and watched for that long?”
“I wanted to know what’s going on, so yeah,” Madigan said, peering down the hallway. “I went there originally to figure out John’s other last name. I know you already know, but you’re not allowed to tell me that stuff, so I found out on my own. It’s Briar. He told me.”
Madigan waited for her to say something as she poured two shot glasses of scotch, second-guessing her pour.
“Grace, you still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so I think I’ve developed some kind of rapport with him. He seems wrecked over Lily’s death, but it could be a show. He could be nervous about being a suspect too. I don’t know. Point is, Evette lied about how often she saw him.”
“She lies, and you’re surprised?”
“Well, I thought it was weird, but it seems like she just wanted to protect their relationship. Could be, though, that she didn’t want to be involved. Questioned. You know how skittish she gets around police.”
Madigan poured some vodka into the martini glass, and laughter came from the living room as she set the bottle down.
“Grace?”
She’s mad I’m interfering.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“So maybe she knows more. Maybe you should question her.”
I’ll leave it at that. I don’t want her upset with me.
Madigan grabbed a lemon from the fridge and set it on the counter in front of her, staring at it.
“Okay, first of all, we can’t believe everything Evette says, alright, so wh—”
“I know,” Madigan sighed. “Listen, regardless, I had to tell you.”
“You can’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t interview her for the newspaper. Don’t tell Will, and I don’t want you going back to Evette’s without me.”
“Without you?” Madigan frowned. “So we’re going together?”
“I’ll be right back,” Will said, his voice echoing down the hallway to the kitchen.
“I haven’t decided y—“
“How do you make a lemon twist?” Madigan whispered.
“What?”
“Never mind, I gotta go.” Madigan grabbed a knife from the drawer. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” She pressed end and set the phone down before Will strode into the kitchen.
“Everything okay in here?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “A martini with a twist is with a lemon twist, right?”
Will nodded.
“How the heck do you do that?”
“I thought you were a bartender.” Will laughed and rested his hands on her shoulders.
“I was. For years,” she said. “No one at Roy’s ever ordered a martini with a twist.”
“Babe, you just had to ask for help,” he said. “I don’t care that you don’t know how to do it. I’ll teach you.”
Madigan smiled and nodded. He took the knife from her hand and put it back in the drawer, taking out a peeler instead. She pretended to pay attention to him with the lemon, but all she could think about was the fact that Grace was open to visiting Evette. Even to question her.
A huge, unexpected leap. One she wasn’t sure Grace was ready for.
But they’d be together.
Her chest filled with butterflies as Will set the perfect twist of lemon peel on the edge of the martini glass and handed it to her before grabbing the glasses of scotch and leading the way down the hall.
“Think you could call them Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg?” he whispered over his shoulder. “I don’t think they’re comfortable with a first name basis yet.”
“Oh-kay,” Madigan said.
She’d called them that when they first met, but it felt too formal for their second meeting.
Did his mom say something to him?
“Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg,” Madigan said, clearing her throat as they entered the room, and handed Maureen her drink. “I’m sorry that took a moment longer than expected.”
They exchanged pleasantries until Madigan felt their judging eyes on her, and the pressure became too much. She had chosen a pair of jeans without any rips and a plain black knitted sweater for the occasion, but she still felt underdressed. Maureen’s quick glares at her outfit made her squirm.
I’m not dressed up enough.
Or maybe I’m not skinny enough for her.
“I forgot the veggie plate,” Madigan said. “Be right back.”
As she rushed back to the kitchen, she turned on the extra lights beneath the cupboards to compensate for the lack of light through the windows. The shadows of the trees in the front yard danced in front of the navy blue sky, and Madigan wished she were somewhere else.
She poured herself a shot of tequila and downed it before she summoned up the courage to go back into the living room. She picked up the veggie plate as Will met her in the alcove.
“Babe?”
She stared at him and gulped.
“Relax. Everything’s going to be fine.” He smiled down at her.
She admired his confidence in most situations, and it eased her nerves as he took the tray and winked at her.
“I’ve got this,” she told him, and he nodded before disappearing down the hallway with the tray.
And she did feel better, because she had an excuse to hide away in the kitchen to finish preparing the dinner, away from the small talk and judgment, an excuse for a break to be herself for just a little while before breaking bread with the Rosenbergs.
Chapter Sixteen
The call from Chief Banning came in between calls to and from Madigan.
He let her know that the DA saw no reason she shouldn’t proceed with the case. He told her he’d be calling Mac to let him know, and he hoped they’d stay on the same page to find the culprit and do their part in bringing the victim and her family some justice.
Grace thanked him for calling, but the weight that had lifted off her chest after his call was dropped back down on her again after speaking with Madigan.
The last thing she needed was to have more personal involvement in the case, but Evette seemed to have the answers she was looking for.
Exactly like she used to.
Not long after being placed in their care, Grace saw the duo of Evette and Eli as good cop, bad cop. Eli always played the bad cop, but as terrible as he was, he was true to himself through and through. Grace knew what to expect from him, at least.
Evette had been different.
Her honeyed voice and tight hugs that comforted them sent mixed messages when paired with her enabling ways with Eli and the times she’d lose her temper when left alone with them for too long.
Evette had been fighting for survival when Grace entered their house, and she did so by any means necessary, even if it meant throwing them under the bus, giving them up to the bad cop, or leaving them with him when she couldn’t deal with it.
Even if it meant that sometimes, whether Madigan wanted to admit it to herself or not, there was no cop worse than Evette.
Grace took out a box of leftover Chinese food from the fridge, grabbed her fork and a glass of wine before moving to the living room and settling in on the couch.
As she ate, she spread Mickey and John’s files across the table and poured over each of them, settling them each back in their folder when she was done.
John Talbot hadn’t been in trouble with the law or had so much as a parking ticket, while John Briar, the teenager, had several run-ins with the law. He’d been in trouble for many of the same things Madigan had before moving in with the Knoxes: vandalism. Drug possession. Drug selling.
Everything Eli had put them up to, and when Grace refused to do something, Madigan did it for the both of them.
To save them from the beatings.
On her birthday, when Evette had taken them to the fair in Tall Pines, she’d been sure their expedition wouldn’t be discovered by Eli. He’d forbidden them from going anywhere, and Evette took a chance by taking them anyway.
Running away from her would have been scary, but Evette would have been compromised had she told Eli they left her when they weren’t supposed to be at the fair in the first place.
Grace could never have worked up the nerve to run away to the shore if it hadn’t been for Madigan. She’d never have gotten out of the house on Warbler Way if it hadn’t been for Madigan either. But Madigan hadn’t been with her in the city while she was undercover, and day by day, she gained confidence in herself.
Confidence that was destroyed the night Leah died.
Grace walked into her bedroom with her glass of wine and pulled out the worn binder from beneath her bed. She sat on the edge and flipped it open, setting her glass on the nightstand.
Conrad Burke, Drug King of Amherst, and those accompanying him to check on the incoming drug load had been locked up straight away, denied bail at their first hearing before the judge, and sentenced to twenty-five years for the drug-related crimes they committed, as well the murder charge for ordering a hit on Leah.
Nick and Parish, Conrad’s lackeys sent to kill Leah, would have been sent to jail too, if Grace hadn’t killed them, but not before they killed Leah.
Too late.
If Evette had answers and could speak to John’s state of mind in a way that correlated with what Thom Hanks had said, it would be worth a visit.
Follow all the leads, no matter how small.
She’d never imagined she’d be seeing Evette again. Talking to her.
I’ll keep it professional.
As she tucked the binder under her bed once again, she promised herself that no matter what she found, she would report it to Banning—regardless of the impact it might have on her career.
By the book, Grace. Follow the rules.
Her cell phone rang, and she frowned down at the number.
Madigan’s cell phone buzzed against her hip for the second time since she sat to eat with the Rosenbergs, but she couldn’t disappoint Will by excusing herself to check it.
“Will, could you please pass the potatoes?” Maureen asked.
The bowl of potatoes sat right in front of Madigan, and she picked them up before Will put his fork down, handing them to his mom.
“Oh,” Maureen said, sounding disappointed. “Well, thank you, Madigan. So this conference you’re asked to speak at, dear. How long have you been going?”
“Close to a decade now.” Will smiled and took a sip of his scotch.
His dad clinked scotch glasses with Will. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Will nodded and stared at his plate.
“He’s blushing,” Maureen laughed.
“Mom,” Will said, shaking his head, “you know, I’m not the only one with good news tonight.”
No. Don’t do it.
Madigan shook her head in minute movements, hoping he’d catch the signal to stop.
“Is she being modest, Will?” his dad asked.
“As usual,” Will wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Go on. Tell them what just happened.”
Madigan clenched her jaw and wished she taken a second shot of tequila to deal with this embarrassing moment of attention. “It’s nothing,” she muttered.
Nothing
compared to being a keynote speaker at a medical conference.
“I’d love to hear it,” Maureen said, smiling.
“Madigan got her story on the front page yesterday morning,” Will said.
“The one about that girl found murdered in her home?” his mom asked, eyebrows raised.
“It’s an ongoing investigation, actually,” Madigan said, “and they don’t know what happened yet.”
“Well that’s great news, hmm?” Will’s dad said before sipping his scotch. “You’re moving on up.”
“It’s actually a shared article with a colleague of mine,” Madigan said, tucking her hair behind her ear and clearing her throat as her cell phone buzzed once again.
“Ah,” Maureen said, before taking a sip of her martini. “This twist is…cute.”
Trying to belittle me, again.
Madigan smiled. “Your son made it, actually.”
“It’s still great news,” Will said, nodding.
“Pretty soon, she’ll be working for the Amherst Times, hmm?” Will’s dad set his empty scotch glass down. “Do you aspire to move on to the city news?”
“I’m sure she could be working there right now if she wanted to,” Will said.
Lie. Does he even know it’s a lie?
“Well, I’m sure one has to go to college for such a position with the Amherst Times, don’t they?” Maureen asked.
“Mom.” Will finished chewing before continuing. “I told you, Madigan graduated the journalism program from Tall Pines College.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Maureen smiled and nodded to her. “The community college. Well then, you should apply for a position in the city. I’m sure there are many more opportunities for front page news.”
And what top-notch university did you go to, Maureen? Did you get a job with your degree, or just a husband?
“Yeah, maybe,” Madigan nodded, her fingers grazing over the phone in her pocket.
Get me out of here.
“Mr. Rosenberg, can I get you another drink?”
“No, no.” He held his palm over his glass. “No more for me. I’ll be driving. Say, my partner’s brother-in-law is the chief editor for the Amherst Times. Maybe I could put a good word in for you?”
“Oh—” Madigan started.
The Girls Across the Bay Page 14