Stipulations and Complications

by Becki Willis

  “He was so handsome,” the girl whispered in a choked voice.

  “Yes, he was,” Madison agreed. “You two look so much like him. You have his blond hair and his blue eyes. And his smile. Your father had such a wide, open smile.”

  “Tell us the story of how you met.”

  “You’ve heard this story a hundred times, Beth.”

  “But it never gets old. Please? And tell us about how he proposed. About the way he took you up in the hot air balloon and you almost got stuck in the treetops. Don’t leave out a thing.” The teen curled against her mother’s side, eager to hear the fairytale of her parents’ romance one more time.

  Madison hesitated, nibbling on her lip. Could she do this? Was she strong enough?

  You let the anger go, she reminded herself. It was a poison inside you, so you got rid of it. You watched it float away in the river. And Brash was right. When you let go of the anger, some of the pain slipped away with it.

  Brash. A smile touched her face as she thought of the auburn-haired man. One day, she might be able to tell their love story.

  For now, however, she needed to concentrate on another love story. Despite its bitter ending, her romance with Gray had begun beautifully, and it lived on in the two warm bodies that cuddled beside her. Drawing strength from their presence, Madison allowed herself to remember the magic of falling in love with their father. She stared into the blue eyes on the screen and thought only of the good times. Her voice was soft and reverent as she launched into the tale of her courtship with Grayson Reynolds.

  “It sounds so perfect,” Bethani whispered after the last story. She twisted so that she could stare up at her mother. “You loved him, didn’t you, Mom?”

  Madison found that it no longer hurt to answer. “Of course I did, sweetheart.”

  “Do you think… if he hadn’t died…”

  Madison knew what her daughter was asking. Knew what the girl wanted to hear. The answer, of course, was no. If Gray had lived, their marriage would not have survived. It had suffered a fatal blow when he first started having an affair two years ago, but her children did not need to know that.

  Madison had always tried to be honest with her children, but being honest now would break her daughter’s heart. As she contemplated how best to answer, Granny Bert opened the door. The tantalizing aroma of hot, steaming pizza followed her inside. Madison hastily wiped away the tears moistening her cheeks and welcomed the intrusion.

  “Ah, just in time for the skiing video!” she said with forced enthusiasm. “Blake, go help Granny. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  She glanced back to the handsome man still dominating the screen, the picture frozen as it captured a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It was a good way to remember her late husband. A good image to tuck away into her bruised and battered heart.

  Thank you.

  The sudden wave of tenderness caught her by surprise. After all that had happened, she had not expected to feel gratitude toward this man. To her amazement, the pain that normally gripped her heart gave way to subtle acceptance. Peace settled into her soul.

  Thank you for the good times, her heart whispered. And most of all, thank you for Bethani and Blake.

  Gray had been gone for six months, yet her anger and resentment had kept the turmoil of his passing alive. Nothing was more final than death itself, but closure had eluded her. Madison felt it now, however. As a calm detachment filled her once-angry heart, she knew that chapter of her life was finally over.

  Renewed strength surged through her. She was now ready to tackle the world.

  Goodbye, Gray.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tackling the cave, however, would have to wait for another day.

  “Sorry, you have that meeting with Murray Archer today, remember?” Derron informed her Monday morning.

  “Oh, shoot, I forgot!”

  Madison could hear his smug smile over the phone. “That’s what you have me for, girlfriend.”

  “As soon as I can afford it, remind me to give you a raise.”

  “I’ll settle for a paycheck for services already rendered. Did I miss payday last week?”

  Madison squirmed in the car seat. “You noticed that, did you?” she murmured in a small voice. Doing a mental evaluation of her checking account, she tried not to feel nauseous. “I’ll pay you by Wednesday, I promise. Unless, of course, you could hold off until Friday. Friday would be better for all parties involved.”

  Derron’s easy laugh loosened the knot of dread tying up her stomach. “Good thing I have my inheritance,” he told her. “Friday will be fine.”

  “You’re the best, Derron!” she beamed.

  “And don’t you forget it, dollface.”

  “Remember to wear old clothes when we go back to the cave.”

  “I have my spelunking outfit already picked out. Tootles, dollface. Tell that hunk of a boyfriend I said hello.”

  Instead of denying her relationship with Brash as she normally did, Madison reminded herself of the new chapter in her life. Knowing she would shock her friend, she smiled brightly and agreed, “Will do. Tootles.”

  She was still smiling as she pulled into the police station. She parked at the rear of the old train depot and took the well-worn path to the front door, a decided spring in her step.

  “Good morning, Vina,” she called cheerfully to the woman behind the counter. Not so very long ago, the older black woman had intimidated Madison. It was something about her almost super-human efficiency and her sharp black eyes. Not much slipped past the woman of undetermined age. She was as much a fixture at the police station as the old depot counter, and every bit as solid. Vina Jones was the glue that held the department together, and beside her, Madison could not help but feel inadequate.

  In too good of a mood to let those insecurities slip in now, Madison wiggled her fingers in greeting and sailed her way toward Brash’s office.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Her smile grew brighter. “And good morning to you.”

  “So how was your Mother’s Day?” Brash asked.

  “Wonderful. And in honor of all the lovely gifts I received, I have a small gift for you.” She whipped out several papers held together with a paper clip. “My list of families residing in The Sisters back in the day and still currently in the area.”

  “You’re all done?” he asked in surprise. He took the papers and leaned back in his chair, looking notably impressed. “Very nicely done.”

  “And it only cost me my eyesight, my sanity, and half a head of hair.”

  “Aw, even with crossed eyes and thinning hair, you’re still beautiful to me.” He flashed her a charming grin, his attention quickly returning to the names on the list. “Hmm, I never even thought about a couple of these. Some were a given, but not all of these… Good work, Maddy. Very good work.”

  She warmed under his praise. In truth, she was feeling quite proud of herself. It was a daunting task he had given her, but she had managed to pull it off.

  “So now what?”

  “Now the real work begins.”

  “Uh, excuse me. If you think putting that list together wasn’t work itself—”

  He held up his palms in defense of her sudden attack. “Poor choice of words. I know creating this list was all kinds of crazy. But this was only the beginning. Now comes the legwork. Now we have to go through these names, one by one, and see what connections and interactions they had to Miss Juliet. We’ll need to do interviews, background checks, that sort of thing. Dig around a little. See what, if anything, these people would have to lose if some dark secret from the past should surface.”

  “I took the liberty of making a second list.” She pulled a single sheet of paper from her files. “These are the names I think we should concentrate on.”

  Instead of taking the list she offered, Brash studied her for a long moment. She began to squirm under his thoughtful gaze. He toyed with a pen on his desk, obviously contempl
ating the extent to which Madison should be involved in the investigation.

  He finally sanctioned her input with a small nod. “Tell me what you have and how you arrived at it.”

  Feeling quite pleased that he valued her thoughts, Madison sank into the chair across from his desk.

  “In no particular order,” she prefaced, but the first name she called was Amanda Hooper’s.

  “And why her?”

  “Think about it. She is a very astute producer and businesswoman. What better way to generate publicity for her show than to create more publicity? The skeleton’s discovery made quite a splash, even on the national news. And everyone loves a ghost story.”

  His expression unreadable, Brash’s tone was just as neutral. “So naturally Nick Vilardi’s name is on the list, as well, for the very same reasons.”

  “Of course.” She squirmed a bit in her seat, neglecting to mention she had added it at the last minute. While Amanda’s name was at the top of her suspect list, Nick’s was dead last.

  “Go on.”

  “Hank Adams.”

  “Certainly old enough to have known Miss Juliet personally and perhaps have knowledge of the skeleton. Why else did you select his name to be on the list?”

  “He has definite ties to the Big House. Both of his grandparents and his mother all worked there. This Clarence person who built the house was actually Hank Adam’s uncle. So if it should turn out that Clarence built the secret stairway for nefarious reasons and Hank knew what those were, he might want to keep it secret.”

  “He’s going to rather drastic measures, don’t you think, to protect the honor of a family member who has been dead for several decades?”

  Madison shrugged. “Recently, not all of his actions have made a lot of sense. As you know, he is in the middle of a property dispute with Allen Wynn, and some of the things he has done are rather… drastic, as you put it.” She thought of the trap. Definitely over the top.

  “I’m not doubting you,” Brash assured her, “just asking your rationale. Next?”

  A bit uncomfortably, she read from her list. “Allen Wynn.”

  Brash was clearly surprised. “Oh?”

  “It’s a longshot, but what if he was trying to frame Hank Adams, so that he had a clear claim to the acreage in dispute?”

  Brash looked suitably impressed. “Good point. And worth a look.”

  “Arles Bishop.”

  “Because…?”

  “Okay, I admit it started because you mentioned him the night of the break-in. No, don’t give me that look,” she cautioned, waving his protest aside. “I looked into it, and his family had a bit of a run-in with Miss Juliet back when the town was first founded. She did not feel they were worthy of citizenship, so they settled in Naomi, but their paths crossed several times after that. At one point, his grandfather worked for the city of Juliet as a gardener. And yes, she had a gardener on the town payroll. Anyway, she had to fire him. Something about bootlegging. She mentioned it in one of the journals. After that, the Bishops caused a bit of trouble in town. This pattern seemed to continue for several years. And there was some mention of one of the Bishop women going missing in the early 50’s. Everyone assumed she ran away from home, but what if it turned out to be her skeleton we found? I think it’s worth adding Arles, or at least the Bishop family, to the list.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Barry Redmond. It is no secret that the Redmonds tried to stake a claim against Miss Juliet’s estate, claiming they had a right to it as one of Darwin’s descendants. It is also no secret that the Redmonds have never liked my family, resenting the fact that Granny inherited what they felt should have been theirs. And judging from my recent encounter with Barry, I would say he is still very bitter.”

  At mention of her altercation with Redmond, Brash’s jaw tightened. He remained silent, however, as he studied her with shrewd eyes. He finally responded with, “Good work, Maddy. Very good. I’ll look into it.”

  Sensing her dismissal, Maddy frowned. “Please tell me I did not just work myself out of a job.”

  Brash looked uncomfortable.

  “I want to help. I could do some of the legwork. You’re always saying how busy you are, how overworked. Let me take some of the load.” She could tell that he was wavering. “Please, Brash. What can I do?”

  Her cell phone rang. “You can answer your phone,” he replied smartly.

  He studied the list again as Madison took the call. As she hung up, she looked at him with an apologetic wince. “My lunch meeting just got moved up. Would it be a huge problem if I left?”

  “Not at all. You’ve done a great job here. I appreciate your hard work.”

  “Please think about letting me do more.”

  Brash studied her for a moment, looking thoughtful. As his eyes warmed, a devilish grin slid over his face. “I can tell you this. I do promise to think about you.”

  ***

  “We’re going out to eat?” Bethani asked in surprise. Her mother made the announcement while Blake raided the refrigerator for a pre-dinner snack. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Do we need an occasion?” Madison asked.

  “Yeah, we sorta do,” the teen said ruefully. “You always say we can’t afford to go out.”

  Madison was thankful the cameras were no longer rolling at the house, else they would have captured her daughter’s reply.

  “Okay, so maybe there is an occasion. I’ll tell you about it over dinner. Where would everyone like to eat?”

  Granny Bert was easy to please, but the twins requested their favorite Italian restaurant in College Station.

  “It’s a school night,” Madison protested.

  “But apparently we’re celebrating,” Blake was quick to point out. He stuffed the last of a banana into his mouth. “We don’t know what it is we’re celebrating, but surely it’s worth the drive.”

  Madison’s hesitation was brief. “You know what? It is. Let’s go.”

  When they reached the restaurant an hour later, she almost changed her mind.

  “Look at this line,” Madison said in dismay. They were buried at least a dozen people back from the door. “You two have school tomorrow.”

  “I don’t mind going in late,” Blake offered.

  “I’m sure you don’t. You’re always so thoughtful that way.” Madison buzzed the top of his head with a light tap.

  “Hey, just thinking of you,” the teen insisted innocently. “You could sleep in.”

  “Or we could go somewhere without a line two miles long.”

  Bethani looked up from her phone long enough to whine. “You promised we could eat here!”

  “My taste buds are all set on cannelloni,” Blake said. “Maybe a side of spaghetti. With spinach and artichoke dip for an appetizer.”

  After a few moments of waiting in line, Granny began to cough. Madison murmured a small ‘bless you,’ but the coughing fit continued. The sound was so long and ragged, she was beginning to get concerned. Other people in line turned to look at the older woman.

  Bending over at the waist, Granny caught her great-grandson’s eye and winked as she went into another fit of coughing and hacking.

  “Are you all right?” Madison frowned.

  The older woman waved her hand in the air, presumably to brush away the concern. “I will be. I don’t know what the big deal is.” She stopped to cough again. Her voice was surprisingly strong and loud, easily carrying to the couple in front of them. “My fever is not all that high. I have a headache and weakness. I don’t know why the doctors are so uptight.” As she went into another long fit of coughing, the couple decided they were not in the mood for Italian.

  “Two down,” Granny Bert coughed into her fist.

  “What?” Madison was thoroughly confused. What was her grandmother talking about?

  Moving forward in line, Granny Bert pushed in closer to the family ahead of them. She coughed and noisily cleared her throat.

  “I said calm dow
n. I’ll return their calls in the morning.” She pretended to grumble beneath her breath, but her voice was plenty loud, especially turned as she was toward the other family. “All that nonsense about putting me in quarantine. Can’t a mother go visit her sick son in Africa without everyone getting so uptight? And what do those letters, CDC, stand for? Center for Disease Control? Or Can’t Doctors Cure?” She dissolved into another fit of prolonged coughing, just before the mother tugged on her husband’s arm. The family of five slipped quietly to the end of the line.

  “Getting shorter,” Granny Bert said with satisfaction.

  Appalled when she realized what her grandmother was doing, Madison chided, “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  “Why? Because I went halfway around the world to nurse my sick son? I had to go check on my baby boy.” She coughed again for good measure. Then she lifted a wrinkled hand to her forehead, pretending to check for a fever. “Do I feel hot to you? They told me the signs to watch for. Fever and chills. A cough. Weakness and muscle pain. Stomach cramps and vomiting. Eye troubles.” She rubbed at her forehead, then bent at the waist as if with sudden pain. “Blake, bring me my sweater. It’s so cold out here.”

  Amused by her act, the teenager did his part to play along. “Will you need your barf bag again?”

  Her voice lost some of its strength. “No, not this time. I think I just need to sit for a while, and rest.” She alternated between gasping for air and coughing, until the people standing directly in front of them melted away into the crowd. Granny Bert stumbled forward, brushing against a young mother’s arm.

  “Oh, pardon me, sir. I-I didn’t see you there.”

  With a frantic look in her eyes, the young mother clutched her small child to her and stepped back. “Please, ma’am, you go on ahead. We’re really not that hungry.”

  Two more coughing fits, and they found themselves next in line to be seated. As the crowd thinned, Granny Bert made a remarkable recovery. Her cough disappeared, she was able to stand upright, and she no longer switched between shivering from the cold and fanning herself for air. There was no more talk of a sick son in Africa or the CDC. Much to Madison’s chagrin and Blake’s amusement, the older woman was all smiles as the waitress seated them just moments later.