by E J Cochrane
“Who’s that on your porch?” Granny asked, breaking in on Maddie’s thoughts.
She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary until Granny’s question snapped her out of her reverie. But as she studied the silhouette at her front door, she discerned two people huddled close together. What they were doing at her door, she had no idea.
“Harriet?” Granny called when they got closer. “What are you doing on your sister’s porch? And who’s that with you?”
“Granny?” Harriet cried out, obviously taken aback by the appearance of their grandmother.
Meanwhile, Maddie recognized the other figure on her porch. “Patrick? What are you doing here? With my sister?” She thought she’d made her desire to be uninvolved abundantly clear, but there they stood, holding hands, fresh from a canoodling session on her front steps.
“We were headed to dinner, but Harriet got a call.”
“And she had to take it here? I can think of at least thirty other places in this neighborhood alone that have better phone reception than my front porch.” She breezed past the crowd at her entryway and opened her door, assuming she’d get an explanation eventually.
“What’s this about dinner, Harriet?” Granny chimed in. “Who’s this you’re camped out on Maddie’s porch with?”
“Granny, you already know Patrick.”
“I know the nice young man who works for my granddaughter. I’m not sure why he’s spending time with my other granddaughter on his boss’s front steps.”
“I’m pretty sure they were on a date,” Maddie announced as she led the way to her liquor cabinet for a much-needed drink.
“Is that so?” Granny eyed Patrick more carefully, and his posture instantly improved under her scrutiny.
“It could be serious. You should probably have them over for dinner.” Harriet glared at her, but Maddie ignored the venomous look, enjoying a rare opportunity to torment her older sister.
“Indeed. I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I, young man?” Granny posed her question in such a way that Patrick understood the only acceptable answer was “yes.”
“Does that work for you, Maddie?”
“Me? Why do you want me there?” She was shocked by her grandmother’s question, but a smirking Harriet found it all too amusing.
“I want to have you and your lady friend over for dinner. Might as well feed everybody at once.”
“Safety in numbers,” Harriet whispered in her ear, but she ignored that sage advice.
“You already had us for dinner.”
“I had you for dessert. Since when is pie considered dinner?”
“Since my freshman year of college.”
“You act like it’s a burden to have dinner with your grandmother. Is there some reason you don’t want to join us?”
“No,” she answered immediately. “None at all.”
“I’m sure she wants to, but she might not be available.” Harriet came to the rescue. “She’s going to be busy closing on her new property.”
She whirled around to face her sister. “I got it?”
“Why else would I drag my date to your house on a Friday night?”
“I don’t believe it. I thought for sure Little Guys would be staying put forever. Oh god, there’s so much work to do.” Overwhelmed by the warring emotions of relief, excitement, eagerness, and terrified dread, she hugged Harriet and then fell onto her couch.
“You could take a few minutes to celebrate.” Harriet extracted a bottle from her liquor cabinet. “It’s not like you can start renovating tonight.”
Granny sipped eagerly from her glass. “But you should ask Dottie for help when it’s time for renovations. In just a couple weeks, she’s completely transformed the space she’s in.”
“You mean the space she was in.”
“She didn’t mention any work on the condo. She planned to sell it as-is,” Harriet interjected before turning her attention back to a doe-eyed Patrick.
Granny froze, her tumbler halfway to her mouth. For the first time she could recall, Maddie thought Granny looked guilty.
“Of course that’s what I meant. I must have misspoken.” She gestured with her glass and hiccupped exaggeratedly.
“You’re the most deliberate and plain speaker on the planet. You never misspeak. What’s going on, Granny?”
“You’re always so suspicious, child.”
“With good reason. What are you up to? More importantly, what is Dottie up to?”
She squirmed a little, but Maddie couldn’t enjoy making her share information she’d intended to keep a secret.
“If you must know, Dottie decided your new house needed a bit of a facelift. She’s redoing the whole place, and she asked me not to tell you.”
“What?” The room spun. Of all the ways she thought Dottie would make her life as a landlord hell, gutting her house without permission or approval and luring her grandmother into an elaborate remodel and betrayal scheme wasn’t one of them. “Did you even try to stop her?” Maddie asked, though she was well versed in the futility of trying to change Dottie’s mind.
“The work needed to be done, and she knew you didn’t care about it. She wanted to take care of it for you and surprise you.”
“That’s quite a surprise.” Maddie drained her drink and slammed the empty glass on her counter. Harriet, Patrick, and Granny all looked on in various stages of horror and concern as she dialed Dottie’s number with one hand while refilling her glass with the other. “Get over here now,” she barked and hung up without waiting for a response.
Within ten minutes Dottie sashayed through the front door, making her customary stop at the liquor cabinet before facing Maddie. For once she showed up without Carlisle in tow, but that offered Maddie little satisfaction.
“Anything you think you should tell me?” she asked. She wanted to give Dottie the chance to own up to her betrayal.
“That color does nothing for your complexion.” She gestured toward her sweater. “And you really should give my salon a call. They could work wonders with your tresses.”
She glowered at her for several seconds trying to regain her composure. “Not the right time, Dottie.” She clenched her jaw to prevent herself from saying something she would regret.
“It never is. Trying to discuss aesthetics with you is like trying to discuss philosophy with a kindergartener.”
“And getting you to respect boundaries is like trying to keep the Rat Pack away from the liquor cabinet.”
Dottie gasped as if physically wounded, but she said nothing.
“Did you even consider asking for permission to remodel the house? Were you ever going to tell me about it?”
“That’s what’s got you so upset? The tiny—and might I add, necessary—touch-up? I’m just sprucing the place up a bit. Why is this such an offense?”
“Let’s pretend for a moment that you aren’t painfully aware you shouldn’t have done this. That sneaking around and recruiting my grandmother to keep your secret isn’t proof that you knew this was wrong. The offense is that it’s not your house to remodel.”
“Did you want to do it?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Of course it is. The work needed to be done. Unless you thought the combination murder scene and elderly bachelor chic was adding to your property value.” Maddie’s glare was completely lost on Dottie. “If you’re not upset that I stole your design thunder, then what could you possibly be angry about?”
“It wasn’t your decision to make.”
“But the person who should have made that decision refuses to set foot inside the property. Had I waited for you to tend to the house, I’d still be living in an outdated murder shrine. What was I to do?”
“If it was so awful, why did you work so hard to talk me into renting it to you?”
“Carlisle and I needed more space to work in.”
“Well, I hope you and Carlisle will be happy together.” Grabbing her jacket on her way out the door, sh
e called out, “Lock the door when you leave.”
Dimly she heard her grandmother calling after her, but she was too angry to talk this out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddie hadn’t planned on going to the bar. She’d simply wanted to get away from her house and everyone in it. She wasn’t sure what made her angrier—Dottie and Granny’s secrecy or the fact that Dottie hadn’t even consulted her about changes to the home she owned. True, she didn’t want the property, and if she could legally unload it, she would, but that didn’t give Dottie the right to overhaul something that wasn’t hers. The fact that Dottie would undoubtedly make better design choices than she would was entirely beside the point. It was her house, and she should have been consulted.
And how could Granny justify lying to her like that? Her whole life, Maddie had been admonished to tell the truth, that her honor and her reputation were all she had in this world, and it only took one lie to tarnish everything. Yet Granny had lied to her for weeks without any remorse. She had no idea what to think about anything after that.
“May I see your ID?”
She jumped at the sound of the familiar voice. She hadn’t expected to encounter a bouncer any more than she had meant to visit a bar. When she’d left her house in anger, she’d just started walking, paying more attention to the continuous loop of angry thoughts than the direction her feet took her. By the time she stood in front of the bar, she decided a drink would be at least as beneficial as walking a thousand miles in anger. What she hadn’t anticipated was the addition of a Friday night bouncer, or that she would end up looking into the dark, kind eyes of Officer Murphy.
“Officer Murphy?”
“Miss Smithwick.” Murphy grinned at her and held her hand out for the driver’s license Maddie was slow to produce. She was still adjusting to the fact that Officer Murphy sat casually in front of her, her tight jeans and black T-shirt accentuating her lithe, lean body, smirking and patiently waiting for Maddie to comply.
“You’re a bouncer now?” She maintained her habit of stating the obvious to Officer Murphy.
“Just for tonight. I’m helping Babe.”
“Babe?”
“The owner. She called earlier to ask if I could fill in for her regular help.”
Her relief disproportionate to her new understanding, she realized that Murphy hadn’t dismissed her to take a call from her supermodel girlfriend and that maybe, impossible though it seemed, there was no supermodel girlfriend.
“The cats don’t mind you being gone so soon after your recent absence?” She reluctantly handed over her ID (with its undeniable evidence that she was as photogenic as a yeti).
“They kicked me out. They fell in love with their babysitter, and now they want nothing to do with me.” Murphy studied the plastic card in her hand as if she would be tested on it later. A small grin played at the corners of her mouth.
“Silly cats,” Maddie muttered, simultaneously irritated and grateful that the line of women behind her cut their interaction short.
Once inside, it took a year to wind her way past the throng of prowling women and reach the bar where Kittens poured a steady stream of drinks (the majority of which seemed to be cheap beer). By the time she found an empty stool, her mood had tripled in foulness.
“You look like you could use a double.” Kittens placed a drink on the bar in front of her, and she grunted her thanks.
But before she even had time to savor her first sip of bourbon, a voice beside her startled her for the second time that evening.
“Mind if I sit here?” Murphy gestured to the stool beside her but waited for her assent before taking a seat.
“Who’s watching the door?”
“Babe’s got it for a few minutes. I needed a break, and I thought maybe we could have that drink you changed your mind about.” Murphy flagged down Kittens who seemed to know her order by telepathy.
“I changed my mind about dinner,” she corrected and instantly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Whatever Murphy was after, she didn’t need to encourage it.
“I wouldn’t recommend eating here.” Murphy gratefully accepted the drink Kittens brought her, even tipping, though he waved off her efforts to pay. “But if you want to change your mind again, I know a few places around here with decent booze and edible food.”
“Thanks for the tip.” She actively ignored the second part of Murphy’s statement. Hoping to change the subject, she asked, “You’re allowed to drink on duty? Won’t the lesbian riff-raff get in?”
“Perk of the job. I get all the free Coke and water I can stand, which isn’t much.” She checked her watch and rose. “I should get back to my post. Thanks for keeping me company, Miss Smithwick.”
“You have to start calling me Maddie, especially if we’re being friendly. I don’t call any of my friends by their surnames.”
“Except for me,” Murphy pointed out.
“Only because you won’t tell me your first name.”
“Not yet anyway.” Murphy winked, then smiled.
“You know, Officer Murphy, you’re a lot less intimidating when you smile.”
“I could say the same about you, Miss Smithwick.”
“I’m about as intimidating as a kitten.”
“And twice as cute.” Murphy winked again, and as a record-breaking blush engulfed Maddie’s face, she felt herself go weak at the knees, even though she was seated. “Especially when you blush.”
“Considering I spend half my life in that state, that’s a relief.”
“If you ever decide to change your mind about dinner, you know where to find me.” She winked once more and made her exit.
“Oh shit. I’m in trouble.” She sighed and flinched when she turned to see a sour-faced Kat Russell staring her down.
“I don’t get it,” Kat said.
Clueless as to what she’d done to offend the scowling woman, she focused most of her attention on her drink. “What don’t you get?”
“What the hottie at the door sees in you. She barely notices me, but she sees you and suddenly she’s all smiles and flirtation.” Kat flipped her brassy hair as if to emphasize the disparity between her beauty and Maddie’s.
“It’s probably my winning personality,” Maddie offered, stopping short of comparing her likeability to Kat’s surly demeanor. True as it was, she still wanted to talk to Kat about Terry, Lindsey and Leigh, which meant she should try to hold off on offending her for as long as possible.
“You come here a lot. Is this where you and Leigh met?” She already knew the answer was no, but she needed some way to get Kat talking about the victims. This seemed like a better option than just asking if she’d killed anyone lately.
“No. We go way back.”
“So do we. You’d think we would have met before now.”
“Well, we weren’t always so close. We were neighbors first and then friends. And then more.” There went the hair again, and Maddie ground her teeth.
“Odd that she never mentioned you.”
“We had to keep things quiet for a while, until everything with Terry and Lindsey died down.”
Unfortunate word choice, Maddie thought but let it slide. She was about to probe deeper but was interrupted.
“I thought she had better sense than to look for comfort in a bottle.” At the sound of her grandmother’s voice, Maddie’s head snapped in the direction of the entrance.
Granny was by no means a prude or a teetotaler, but to Maddie’s knowledge, she wasn’t one to frequent bars. In fact, she had no memory of Granny ever visiting, mentioning or showing even the slightest interest in any of the numerous taverns the city had to offer. So what was she doing in a lesbian bar? And how had she found her?
“Of course she’s here. I told you we’d find her in a bar.” Dottie’s voice carried across even the noisiest of rooms, giving her the answer to her questions.
Though she appreciated the fact that they’d come after her, she didn’t see how arguing about their
troubles in public would be in any way beneficial. But considering Dottie’s penchant for manipulation, a public confrontation may have been a calculated choice. She wouldn’t put it past her friend to swap privacy for a fast resolution to her troubles.
“Two trips to the bar in one week. She must really like this place,” Harriet said, and Maddie wondered (not for the first or last time in her life) how things could get any worse.
“Three, actually,” Dottie clarified. “We may need to stage an intervention.”
“I don’t know. It looks nice enough,” Patrick, ever the optimist, chimed in. “And I bet the drinks are pretty good, or Boss wouldn’t be frequenting the place.” The three women who surrounded him stared at him in disbelief, and he threw his hands up defensively. “What? All I’m saying is she has high standards.”
“She gets that from her grandmother.” Granny beamed, apparently forgetting her earlier concern over Maddie’s choice to take out her frustration in a bar. Maddie sighed, lamenting the speed with which she’d drained the glass in front of her.
“So much for trying to get away from my problems,” Maddie muttered and tried to flag Kittens down for liquid reinforcements before the public airing of her private life commenced.
“This round’s on me.” Dottie extracted an American Express Black card from her Hermès handbag as she sidled up next to Maddie.
Granny settled herself on the stool Maddie vacated for her and leveled her Granny-est stare at Kittens (who took the old woman’s order of Sex on the Beach in stride). Harriet and Patrick placed their orders as well, and Dottie looked to Maddie for some acknowledgment of her generosity.
“I’m not talking to you yet.” She lifted her regrettably empty glass to her lips, straining to extract even one lone drop of liquid from it.
Clearly unimpressed, Dottie turned to Kittens and said, “She’ll have another, and I’ll have a gin and tonic, double the gin and skip the tonic.”
“Don’t be so pigheaded, Matilda.” Granny paused the gratifyingly slow consumption of her titillating cocktail long enough to chide her granddaughter. “What did Dottie do that’s so awful?”
Not trusting herself to speak without unleashing all the hostility she felt, Maddie scowled at her grandmother until the tiny cocktail straw she demurely sucked at was sufficiently mangled.