The Lilac Code

by Becki Willis

  Genny offered her trademark dimpled smile. “Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it!”

  Sophie visited with them for another twenty minutes, sharing a few of the spy stories she was familiar with. By the time she wished them a good evening, her guests were feeling the buzz of a good mystery.

  “I’m so glad we chose this hotel,” Genny said, her voice filled with excitement. “I mean, I’m sorry about the other hotel burning down, but it turned out for the best, as far as we’re concerned. Who knew a place like this even existed?”

  They took fresh nightcaps up to their room, and Granny Bert carried a plate of crackers and grapes. They took the back stairway, which brought them directly into the library.

  “Sophie told us to help ourselves to a book or a DVD,” Genny said, noting the many choices scattered about on multiple bookcases.

  “I don’t know about you girls, but I’m plumb tuckered out.” For once, Granny Bert openly admitted her exhaustion.

  “To tell you the truth, so am I. Not that way, Granny Bert.” When the older woman would have crossed the room and gone down the hallway on the other side, Maddy gently took her arm and directed her to make a sharp right. “This way.”

  “This house has too many angles and turns,” the older woman complained. “I thought we went that way.”

  She jerked a thumb over her shoulder as she started up the narrow staircase. A bit confused herself, Madison looked again, just to make certain they were in the right place. She got a glimpse of a man in a black jacket as he disappeared around the corner. She waited for the sound of a door to shut but heard nothing. She shot Genny a curious glance. “Where did that guy go?” she whispered.

  “Hold on a sec,” Genny said. She dashed across the room and peeked around the corner. She hurried back with a giggle. “Good grief, there’s another set of stairs going down on that side! This place is like a maze.”

  “Just point me in the direction of my bed,” Granny Bert grumbled.

  “Up. Up, up, up.”

  An hour and a half later, Granny Bert snored softly beneath the downy covers, Genny soaked alone in a tub made for two, and Maddy ended her call to Brash, a melancholy smile upon her face. She’d been gone for less than one day, but simply knowing they were fifteen hundred miles apart made her miss him that much more.

  She unfolded her long form from the sofa and moved to the wall of windows overlooking the great room below. Floor-to-ceiling drapes offered more than adequate privacy. She might never have pushed the drapes aside, had she not known what lay beyond.

  Madison stood well behind the curtains, afraid someone down below might see her in her new nightgown. Genny chose it for her, saying that after this trip, she could tuck it away for her honeymoon. Why buy a boring flannel gown, her friend reasoned, when Brash would much prefer this one? If she shared a room with anyone other than her grandmother and her very best friend, Maddy would never have agreed, but over the years, both women had seen her in less clothes than this. And she had to admit, the delicate fabric felt heavenly against her skin, even if it was scandalously thin. At least Granny lent her an extra robe, even though it didn’t do her much good now, hanging in the bathroom where Genny took her bath.

  Parting the drapes ever so slightly, Madison peered out through the opening. She almost felt guilty, like she was spying on the people down below. Which, she supposed, was the whole idea behind the room in the first place. For all she knew, they might have some sort of one-way glass, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She would simply take a peek.

  No one stirred below. The lights in the great room were dimmed and the house, it appeared, was sleeping.

  Sophie was right. Madison had an excellent view of the room below, even with the lighting turned low. From here, she could easily see into the sunken parlor where they sat earlier, entertained with Sophie’s third-party tales of espionage and intrigue. She smiled as a thrill of excitement raced through her, even now. The innkeeper certainly knew how to tell an enchanting tale.

  Madison was about to drop the curtain when movement from below caught her eye. She saw a man moving through the shadows, crossing from the sunken parlor into the kitchen area. Something told her he wasn’t an employee of the hotel. His movements were too stealthy, his manner too guarded. He stopped more than once, glancing around to make certain no one saw him, but he failed to look up, toward the soaring ceiling and the wall of windows. After a moment of nosing about, the man crossed the room and Madison lost sight of him. She could never see his face, but she thought he wore a black jacket, like the man exiting the library when they came up.

  Coincidence, she assured herself. Again, she almost turned away, until she discovered that the huge mirror above the fireplace offered a perfect view of the staircase directly across from it. She could only see the bottom four or five steps, but it was enough to watch how the man hesitated there, apparently still checking his surroundings, before finally continuing to the second floor.

  “Maddy?” Genny called softly, padding into the room in her bare feet. “What are you doing?”

  Madison dropped the curtain as if it suddenly stung her fingers. “N—Nothing,” she denied guiltily.

  “Then why do you look like you just got caught with your hand in Granny Bert’s cookie jar?”

  With a sheepish smile, Madison motioned to the sofa. Careful not to wake her sleeping grandmother, she kept her voice low as she curled onto the cushions.

  “I know it’s silly. I think I got caught up in Sophie’s stories earlier. She knows how to tell a tale, doesn’t she?”

  “She certainly does,” Genny agreed, tucking her legs beneath her on the other side of the couch. “The whole time I was in the tub, I thought about what she told us. Can you imagine living that life? Full of spies and secrets, and never knowing when someone might be listening in on your conversations?”

  “I know all about that, remember?” Madison said, shivering with the memory of when her own house was bugged. During the filming of the reality show, certain areas of their home were strictly off limits, but a devious cameraman had his own agenda, and hid mics without their knowledge.

  “True. But you still didn’t tell me why you looked so guilty when I came in. Don’t tell me there’s a speaker in here and you can hear everything they’re saying below!”

  “The lights are out and there’s no one below. Well, there was one guy… Again, I’m sure it was my imagination, but he seemed to be… snooping.”

  Genny sat up straight. “Like the man I saw earlier, outside our room?”

  Madison scowled. “I forgot about that. Do you remember what he was wearing?”

  “Uh… a jacket, maybe? Navy? Maybe black. I’m not sure.”

  Unease skittered across Madison’s nerves. “There was also that man on the second floor, when we were coming up. He had on a black jacket. And so did the man downstairs just now.”

  “Along with thousands of other people. It’s like thirty-five degrees outside, you know. Most people are wearing jackets.”

  “I know. You’re absolutely right.” Madison rubbed her fingers against her forehead. “Like I said, I’m sure it’s just my over-active imagination. I got a little too caught up in listening to Sophie’s stories. Forget I said anything.”

  “How can I? You’re not the one sleeping all alone in that loft. According to Sophie, it may or may not have a hidden space or two, itself.”

  “I’ll take the loft,” Madison offered. “Better yet, I’ll take this couch, and you can crawl in bed with Granny.”

  “Your long legs wouldn’t fit. I’ll take the couch.” Genny rooted down into the cushions, demonstrating how she was the perfect fit. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely! I’m so tired I could probably sleep on the floor.”

  Madison scooted off the couch and smiled. “You and me both. You have a big day tomorrow, so you’d better get some sleep.”

  “The studio is
sending a car for me, so that leaves you and Granny Bert with the Lincoln. I’ll probably be gone most of the day.”

  “Just as long as we have time for a nice dinner together. This is your bachelorette trip, after all, and you need a little time for some fun.”

  “A nice dinner sounds great.”

  “I’ll find you a blanket.”

  “Oh, and tomorrow night? We’ll skip the spy tales and I’ll be a big girl and sleep in my own bed,” Genny promised.

  Madison only laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter 5

  Madison slept soundly, too exhausted to worry about spies and men in dark jackets.

  By morning, she saw no shadows down below. When she peeked from their draperies by the light of day, bright sunshine greeted her. It poured down from a dozen skylights, streamed in through dual sets of French doors, flooded in from all directions to drench the bright and airy space. The temperatures outside might be cold, but the sun shone brightly on this early February day.

  Several people milled about in the great room, having breakfast at the scattered tables below. A young couple had an animated conversation over eggs and toast, while a businessman studied his computer between gulps of coffee. Another woman carried a plate piled high with pastries and danishes and deposited it beside her husband, who kept his face buried in the morning newspaper. Madison saw no sign of a man wearing a black jacket.

  “Silliness on my part,” she scoffed, dropping the curtain.

  “What’s that?” her grandmother asked from the closet.

  “Just wondering if you were ready for breakfast.”

  “Two more minutes, a visit to the little girl’s room, and I’m good to go. Airplanes always do a number on my bladder.”

  “No hurry. We have the whole day.”

  While her grandmother finished getting ready, Madison called home.

  “In a Pinch Professional Services. This is Derron speaking. How may I connect your call?”

  Without preamble, Madison launched in. “I’ve been gone exactly one day! Please tell me you didn’t install a new phone system!”

  The man’s cool professional tone dissolved into a delighted squeal. “Hey, dollface, how’s the big city?”

  “A bit chilly. But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “That’s because I didn’t hear a question. But in the interest of speeding this conversation along, no, I didn’t put in a new phone system. Nice touch, though, jazzing up my greeting like that, don’t you think? Makes us sound more high class.”

  “Good thing, too, since our last client wanted us to locate his lost pig,” Madison muttered.

  “Those days may be behind us, dollface. Our ad came out this morning, and we’ve already had two callers.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Okay, so one of them thought the In a Pinch referenced cooking measurements and wanted to know how many cups there were to a pound of lard, but the other was a solid lead. We may have a client needing clerical services for a ten-week maternity leave.”

  Madison was still hung up on the lard reference. “Who uses lard these days? Have they never heard of clogged arteries?”

  “Apparently not. She wanted to put it in her grandmother’s recipe for cracklin’ cornbread and serve it with deep fried bacon and fried green tomatoes.”

  “Southern to the core,” Madison murmured.

  “Be careful what you say, madam. You’re in Yankee territory now,” Derron teased, using an exaggerated accent.

  When enemy lines and Union spies came to mind, Madison feared she was still under the spell of Sophie’s stories from the night before. “So how does the ad look?” she asked, determined to forget such nonsense.

  “Like a million bucks.” She could just imagine her part-time employee’s mega-watt smile. Derron had a flair for the dramatics, but the man was good at most anything he did. Designing an ad should be no different. “Which, by the way, is roughly what it cost. I may have misread the cost sheet,” he said with a sudden rush of words.

  “Derron! I gave you a strict budget! You know we can’t afford anything extravagant. We can’t even afford anything cheap,” she wailed. “I knew this was a mistake.”

  “Relax, dollface. They agreed to run it a second week for free, so we’re getting twice the exposure.”

  “This ad better bring in business, Derron,” she warned sternly. “That was money I was saving for Bethani’s cheerleading camp. If she gets kicked off the squad, it’s on you.”

  “Oops, getting a call. Gotta go,” the young man said. “Probably someone calling from the ad. Bye, love you, be safe.” The line went dead before Madison had a chance to reply.

  “I didn’t hear any beep,” she muttered, staring at her phone in suspicion. “He just didn’t want to get chewed out.”

  Granny Bert breezed into the room, hearing only the last part of the conversation. “And who would? Come on, girl, let’s go chew on some breakfast.”

  “In a Pinch Temporary Services. This is Derron, how may I direct your call?”

  “I saw your ad in the paper,” a man’s gruff voice said. “Put someone on who can help me.”

  “Certainly, sir. One moment please.”

  Derron tapped the hold button and continued browsing his social media feed, snickering when he saw a cute meme posted by a friend. He sang a bar of his new favorite pop song and waited for what he felt was an appropriate amount of time, before depressing the hold button.

  “I’m so sorry for the wait, sir. We’re experiencing an extremely high number of calls this morning. Perhaps I can help you. What sort of services were you in need of?”

  The man hesitated, obviously debating on how to proceed. Decision made, his voice rumbled with the rough edge of emotion. “I need help with my daughter. I think she’s fallen in with the wrong crowd.”

  “Yes, I see,” Derron said. Good thing the caller couldn’t see the way his brow puckered in pure confusion. “How exactly can we help you, sir?”

  “Well, I thought you could follow her and see what she’s up to. My wife died a couple of years ago, and the girl won’t talk to me. Now she has all these new friends, and she won’t bring ‘em round the house. Says she’s ashamed of the place. Maybe it ain’t a palace, but it’s the best I can do, you know? Do you know what it’s like, raising a smart-mouthed sixteen-year-old girl, all by yourself?” the man grumbled.

  “No, sir, I certainly don’t,” Derron commiserated. His voice brightened as he added, “But I have recently acquired a parrot, and I know how difficult it is to raise a smart-mouthed bird.”

  “Uh, well, that’s not really the same thing,” the man stuttered. “Unless your parrot started wearing black nail polish and baggy clothes.”

  “No, his claws are painted light blue, same as mine,” Derron answered, glancing down at his feet. He couldn’t see the results of his latest pedicure through the canvas uppers, but he knew the color was perfect for his skin tone. It didn’t look half bad on his colorful bird, either. “I’d love to hear more about your daughter, sir.”

  “Like what?”

  “Her name, her hobbies, where she goes to school, what she likes to do. That sort of thing.”

  “Oh, right. Uhm, her name is Tasha. She’s a sophomore at Riverton High. Good student. At least, I guess she still is. No teachers have called to say different.”

  That could be the problem right there, Derron thought, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Obviously, the dad wasn’t involved enough in his daughter’s life.

  “What does Tasha like to do?”

  “She used to have friends, but now all she does is play on that dad-blamed phone all the time. When we get a chance to eat together, I made a rule, no phone at the dinner table. So, she quit coming to the table. Stopped leaving notes about where she was going and what time she’d be back.”

  “How old did you say she was, sir?” The frown bled through his words.

  “Sixteen.”

  He couldn’t resist. �
�And she tells you what time she’ll be home?”

  Properly chastised, the man was quiet before offering a rumbled excuse. “You gotta understand. I work two jobs, just so she can have that phone and those new baggy clothes.”

  The man’s plight reaffirmed what Derron already suspected.

  It was far easier to parent a bird, than a child.

  Chapter 6

  After breakfast, Madison and Granny Bert headed off to the National Cryptologic Museum. Particularly after talking to Derron, it helped knowing the museum was free to the public and within her limited budget.

  Brash, of course, repeatedly offered to help her with her finances, but Madison was determined to maintain her independence. For almost twenty years, she had entrusted her family’s financial security to her husband, and look where that had gotten her. Unbeknownst to her, Grayson bankrupted their investment company, ‘misappropriated’ some of their clients’ funds, took a second mortgage on a house they couldn’t afford in the first place, borrowed from his life insurance policy to support his mistress, and then had the gall to die before he faced the consequences of his reckless actions. That deed had fallen upon his widow and two children. Madison knew Brash deCordova was an honorable man and would never deceive her so, but it was important she learn to stand on her own. She needed to provide for her family. The twins deserved as much.

  “Look here,” Granny Bert said, stopping at the first exhibit. “These are hobo symbols. Back in the day—way back in the day—folks depended on the goodness of others when they were down on their luck. They didn’t depend on government handouts and programs that pay you to sit home on your rumpus instead of going out and earning an honest day’s wages. Back in those days, when you needed a little boost, you asked your neighbor. And if you were the traveling sort, going from town to town to find work, you looked to the kindness of strangers. These symbols let the next traveler know where he could find a hot meal or a bed for the night. See that? That cat symbol means a kind lady lives there.”