The Lilac Code

by Becki Willis

  “I’m thinking you should turn here,” Genny broke in. “Because I think someone is following us.”

  Chapter 13

  They wound their way through the streets and neighborhoods, until they were certain no one followed. Then Maddy sped back to the hotel as fast as she could. They were now tucked safely inside their suite, where they discussed their options on how to proceed.

  “Okay, girls, this is getting a little freaky.” Genny was the first to admit the fact aloud.

  Madison pulled the suitcase from the closet and set it in the middle of the floor. The three of them perched on the sofa and stared at the bag, as if expecting to find the answers within its generic black construction.

  “We could take it to the police,” Genny ventured.

  Madison chewed on her lip. “But what good would that do? They won’t know who the owner is, anymore more than we do.”

  “But it will get it off our hands.”

  Granny Bert snorted in disagreement. “Yeah, but Beady Eyes won’t know that. He’ll still follow us around, thinking we have his bag.”

  “You could call Brash and ask his opinion.”

  Maddy loved the man with all her heart, but he was too protective of her. “Which would be to get on a plane and come home. End of story. You know how my fiancé is.”

  “Exactly like mine. So, we’re in agreement? No need to worry the guys back home when we can handle this ourselves.”

  “Agreed.”

  Genny’s dimple appeared. “What’s that old handshake we used to have?” She put out a fist.

  Madison topped it with her own and together they circled their free hands over their fists. “Girl Code!” they called in unison. “Always have your sister’s back!”

  They dropped their hands, laughing. “We haven’t done that in years!”

  “The last time I remember doing it was when we both agreed not to buy that silver dress for senior prom.”

  “I remember that,” Granny Bert recalled. “That was one of the biggest squabbles you girls ever had. You both found that silver dress and fell in love with it. Trouble is, it made Genny look like a shiny elephant and Maddy like a candy wrapper. I was secretly glad you fought over it, so that neither one of you embarrassed yourself in it.”

  Their laughter slowly died away, leaving an empty echo in the room. Right alongside the mixed-up luggage.

  Genny stood and circled the offending piece. She tapped her pursed lips as she thought aloud. “I suppose we could open it. One more time, just to see if you missed something.”

  “Maybe you’ll see something I didn’t.”

  Genny stood back, reluctant to move forward.

  “Go ahead,” Madison encouraged, her voice tight. “Open it.”

  Her friend recoiled, as if scorched by her tone. “I’m not going to open it. You open it.”

  When neither moved to do so, Granny Bert let out a loud huff. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake! It’s not like there’s a bomb inside. I’ll open the cotton pickin’ thing!”

  Maddy motioned her heroic gesture away. “I’ve got it,” she said, falling to her knee and unzipping the case.

  She pulled out the folders, handing the first to Genny, the next to Granny Bert, and keeping the final one for herself. All three women did a thorough perusal of the folder they held, before rotating them for a triple inspection.

  “Gibberish,” Granny Bert concluded, holding the folder with the illogical letters and drawings.

  “Random strings of numbers,” Genny said, flapping her folder.

  “Names of people and places, but not necessarily addresses.”

  They passed a helpless look among themselves, having no clue what any of it meant.

  “There’s two books, neither written in English.” Madison handed one to each woman. “I only know limited Latin and Spanish, and these are neither.”

  “It almost looks like Czech or Polish, but I think it’s more likely Russian,” Granny Bert said, thumbing through her book.

  “Is this Chinese?” Genny wondered aloud. She fingered the illustrations in the back. “Cute artwork. I saw this one with all the loopty-doops drawn in the folder with the handwritten notes. It almost looks like a child’s drawings, yet it doesn’t. Too deliberate, even if it is dreadfully simple.”

  “That was my take,” Madison agreed. “Granny?”

  She and Genny exchanged books. “These aren’t conventional books,” she noted. “No ISBN, no imprint. They weren’t intended for the public.”

  “This gets weirder and weirder. Do you think they may be some sort of office manual?”

  “I guess they could be,” Genny said, but her tone was doubtful. She tested the weight of the one she held. “This one would make a good doorstop. Or a club.”

  Digging back inside the bag, Madison continued. “Next, we have the ledger. It looks standard enough. No identifying business headers, but the usual notations as far as dates, expenditures, that sort of thing. Maybe you’ll see something I didn’t.”

  Genny carried the ledger to the sofa and sank down into the cushions to study its pages.

  “Is that a black light?” Granny Bert asked. “Your father used to have one of those, back in his disco days. Dad-blamed thing always hurt my eyes,” she complained. “Turned everything fuzzy.”

  Madison turned the light strip over in her hands. “They have something like this that detects fingerprints. It’s a lot less messy than dusting for prints, but much more expensive. Obviously, The Sisters Police Department doesn’t have one.”

  “So, there’s Brash’s souvenir, right there in your hand,” Granny Bert said with a smart nod.

  “I can’t just take this.”

  “Why not? No one’s claiming it.”

  Madison shook her head, slightly exasperated with her grandmother. Anyone who didn’t know the woman might take her seriously. As she often did, Madison simply ignored her. “Then we have blocks of paper, a roll of mints, and these pens. See? The cases match the pen your poker buddy had.”

  “Do they all have pens inside?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll see.” She opened one for confirmation, rattling the other two for sound. “Yes. Appears brand new and never used.”

  Genny looked up from the ledger. “Is there anything special about the bundle of note paper?”

  Madison turned the bound bundle over in her hands, noting the colorful array of options. She had originally mistaken the squares as construction paper, but upon closer inspection, she realized they were made of a much finer quality paper. “Not really.” She shrugged. “They look like Post-It notes, without the sticky strip. Only the paper has more texture to it and the colors are much more vibrant. Oh, wait. There is something special about it,” she corrected, her voice quickening. “Maybe not special, but familiar. Granny, doesn’t this look like that piece of paper your friend had? The one I wrote my autograph on?”

  “Looks like the same shade of blue.”

  Madison rubbed it between her fingers. “It feels the same, too. I remember I had a bit of trouble, getting the pen to write at first.”

  “Okay, so I’m confused,” Genny said. She put her hands on either side of her head. “Do we think this case belongs to Beady Eyes, or to your poker buddies? Beady Eyes was on the plane and is following you around town, but your poker buddies have items that match the ones in the bag.”

  Madison bit her lip. “I know. I’m not sure which one of them it belongs to.”

  “Maybe all three work for the same company,” Granny Bert suggested. “Beady Eyes flew in from Houston to help them close the deal.”

  They tossed around several more suggestions, without any clear conclusions.

  “Let me meet with the guys for another round of poker tomorrow afternoon. I’ll ask a few more questions about their business and why they’re in town,” Granny Bert said. “Maybe I can work the conversation around to lost luggage.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Madison insisted. “I don’t want you alone
with them in that basement.”

  “Remember,” Genny said, “we’re filming a segment of the show here tomorrow morning, if you want to watch.”

  “Sounds fun.” Madison put items back into the bag. “Are you seeing anything in that ledger?”

  “Just standard stuff. There’s no way to know whether these are doctored figures, or not. I don’t even know what company they belong to.” She shrugged and handed the book back to her friend. “Can I see one of those pens?”

  “Sure.” As Madison tossed a wooden case to her friend, something else floated through the air. “What was that?”

  Genny picked up the tiny strip of plastic. “It looks like one of those little clear strips they put with batteries, to keep them deactivated until you need them.”

  Curious, Madison opened the other two cases. Upon closer inspection, she saw the same clear strip inserted into the ends of the pens. “That’s odd. Why does a mechanical pen need a battery?” She fingered the finely carved instrument. “It’s not like there’s a digital calendar built in, or even a clock.”

  Genny’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe there’s a mic inside.”

  Madison gasped and dropped the pen, box and all, as if it suddenly scorched her skin. “Why would these men need pens with hidden mics?”

  “Unscrupulous business practices?” Genny suggested. “Spying on their competition?”

  At the mention of spies, all three women fell quiet. Their eyes widened.

  With a nervous gulp, Madison hastily stuffed the items back into the bag. Granny Bert helped zip it, while Genny got up to pace the room.

  Stashing the suitcase out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind, Madison turned and noticed her friend’s antsy gait. “I guess this hasn’t been a very fun girl trip, has it?” Her tone was rueful. “Instead of the male strippers Granny Bert suggested, we end up with a mystery on our hands.”

  “Hey, I like mysteries as well as anyone,” Genny said, but the claim was weak. “I can do without the danger, but the mystery part is always fun. I guess this was the premonition I had.”

  “Just the same, I think I’d feel better if we all slept down here again tonight. I’ll take my turn on the couch.”

  “Not on your life! I love sleeping on this thing. It’s very comfy.”

  Settling in on the soft cushions, Genny tucked her feet beneath her and patted the empty space beside her. “Okay, enough of this cloak and dagger stuff,” she proclaimed. “Grab a seat, girls. This is my bachelorette party, and I have an activity for us.”

  Granny Bert brightened. “We’re going to call Chippendales, after all?”

  “Not that. But we are going to have a nice, long girl talk.”

  She waited for both to be seated before giving Granny Bert the nod. “Granny Bert, you start. I’m getting married in a few days, and you have the most experience on the subject. What’s your number one piece of advice for a happy marriage?”

  After fifty-three years of a solid and happy marriage, the older woman’s answer came without hesitation. “That’s easy. Always be faithful. In body, mind, and spirit. No exceptions.”

  “I agree,” Madison said, even though her late husband didn’t share the same philosophy.

  “So do I.” Genny nodded vigorously. “And that won’t be a problem. I can’t imagine wanting any man other than Cutter. He’s my whole world.”

  “I don’t carry on about it often,” Granny Bert continued, “not like some folks do, shoving their beliefs down your throat whether you want it or not, but remember it takes three people to make a marriage work.” She ticked them off on bony fingers. “Husband, wife, and God. The couple that prays together stays together. It’s important to attend church together.”

  “It’s important to attend everything together,” Madison offered. “I know people who spend their holidays apart, because the wife goes to her side of the family, while the husband goes to his side. If you can’t manage both, take turns.”

  “That’s easy for us. You two are my family. And Cutter adores you, as much as I adore all the Montgomery clan.”

  “I know Cutter has been raised with the same values, the same sense of family. As long as you live your life as a couple, it won’t ever be a problem,” Madison said with confidence.

  “Remember to give in once in a while,” Granny Bert offered. “It’s fun to win every argument and be right all the time but being on the losing end can start to wear on any man’s pride. Know which battles to fight, and which ones to throw.”

  “I can’t imagine you willingly throwing in the towel,” Madison admitted to her grandmother.

  “More times than you can imagine, child. You remember that old avocado green refrigerator we used to have?”

  “The one that’s still in the shed? The avocado wonder, as you call her?”

  “That’s the one. The ugly, bulkiest thing I ever did see, next to Dolly Mac Crowder. But your grandfather was bound and determined to buy it. He coveted its extra big freezer, knowing exactly how many cartons of Blue Bell ice cream he could fit in next to the fancy ice maker. I wanted the harvest gold in another brand, but I knew how important it was to him, so I finally gave in. It turned out to be one of the best purchases we ever made. The thing’s been running like a charm since 1972.” She gave a smart nod of her gray head and continued.

  “And don’t think I was in favor of letting your daddy go all wild like he did. I wanted him to stay in college and get a degree, but Joe thought we should give him room to spread his wings. Took a while, but the boy finally came in for a safe landing.”

  That ‘boy’ was almost sixty years old and, if the truth be known, he was still a bit wild. His life as a missionary allowed him to sow his oats, at least doing more good in the world than he did harm.

  “Marriage is all about give and take,” she continued. “A man can’t go through life, barking out orders to his wife and expecting his wife’s respect. A woman can’t waltz around, making everything about herself and never giving any thought to what her husband wants. There has to be give and take. Give respect, you get respect. Give love and encouragement, you get love and encouragement.”

  “Always kiss the other one goodbye. Always say I love you,” Madison advised. “You can’t be sure it won’t be your last opportunity.” Even though she no longer loved her deceased husband, she wished she had said a proper goodbye. Like so many other times before that, they had parted on anger. It was one of her biggest regrets.

  “Remember to laugh. Life is serious enough. Lighten up every chance you get.”

  Madison agreed with her grandmother. “I know this won’t be a problem with Cutter, but sit under the stars. Spend some quiet time there, just the two of you.”

  “Better yet, do the deed under the stars,” Granny Bert advised, her wrinkled face softened with a long-ago memory. “There’s nothing like it.”

  “Granny Bert! I can’t believe you said that!” Both younger women spoke at the same time.

  “Why not? We’re all adults here. And at least once, you should give skinny dipping a try. But I do advise keeping your head about you and remembering where you are. One of the times when your grandpa tried it, he forgot it was time for the neighbor to make his evening drive around the pasture. The stock pond was near the fence line. Let’s just say old man Cleaver got an eyeful.” Her cackle of glee turned to a snort of jealousy. “And so did that wife of his! Don’t think I didn’t notice how she eyed your grandfather after that, like a butcher eying a side of prime beef. Poor old Cleaver always was a short, stocky man.” She shook her head in pity for the other woman.

  “Granny! The things you say!”

  “I told you, girl, your grandfather was like my own gift from God. In more ways than one, if you know what I mean.”

  Madison and Genny broke down in peals of laughter. The mood of the evening lightened as Granny Bert entertained them with tales from fifty-three years of marriage. Long into the night, they swapped silly stories and remembrances, spi
ked with plenty of laughter and love.

  When they finally crawled into bed in the wee hours of the morning, Madison couldn’t help but gloat. “See, Granny? You can have a perfectly good bachelorette party, even without male strippers.”

  “I reckon,” she allowed. “But a couple of dancers to remind me of your grandpa’s finer features sure would have been nice.”

  Chapter 14

  “Come on, slowpoke. Aren’t you ready yet?” Bethani asked her brother.

  Blake slapped a Houston Astros World Champion hat on his blond head and opened the door. “You know this may get us grounded for life.”

  “I asked Mr. de if we could go,” his twin replied defensively.

  “But did you tell him why?”

  “Sort of. I told him we were running an errand for Derron. And we are. Kind of.”

  “That’s what I like about you, twin. Your directness.”

  “Shut your face and get in the car.”

  “Who said you could drive?”

  “I’m the one who asked Derron if we could borrow his car, so obviously, I’m the one who gets to drive.”

  Blake grunted, but folded his long body into the passenger seat of the sporty little convertible. He paused in the act of buckling his seatbelt. “What is that black goop all over your face?”

  “It’s called eyeshadow.”

  “It’s called Vampirina.”

  Instead of being insulted, his sister looked pleased. “Thanks. That’s the look I was going for.”

  “You gotta be kidding me. You did that on purpose?”

  “Didn’t you do your homework on this case? Tasha is into this look. If I want to make friends with her, I can’t show up looking like a Susie Cheerleader.”

  “But you are Susie Cheerleader.”

  “She doesn’t have to know that.”

  “You friended her on TeenMix. She’ll know.”

  “I created a new account. My profile picture is a meme with a skull and roses.”

  “Don’t think it’ll work, but whatever.” He glanced into the tiny backseat, noting it was vacant. “Where’s Megan? You know she’ll be pissed we’re doing this without her.”