by Becki Willis
“First of all, why was she cleaning the cage? And second, how does that involve Sticker? He’s too old to be on the fire department. A place would burn down by the time his creaking old joints got to moving. Too many years and too many falls off the back of bulls.”
“Evidently, Derron pays her a little extra in with his rent if she’ll clean his room. I guess that includes the bird’s cage.”
“No wonder he’s in no hurry to move out,” Madison said. “She even cooks for him.”
“She enjoys having someone to fuss over,” Granny Bert said. “Still doesn’t explain what Sticker was doing over there.”
“He went with Cutter to catch the bird. He even brought his lasso, but thank goodness, it didn’t come to that. They put a bit of cheese in the cage, and the parrot went right in.”
“Cheese? I never heard of such!” Madison laughed, topping the final flight of stairs. “Oh, my word! Is that my suitcase? It is! They returned my suitcase!” She rushed toward it, clapping her hands together in delight.
“I guess there’s such a thing as honor among thieves, after all,” Genny surmised.
Maddy happily pulled her suitcase into the suite. She unzipped it immediately, making certain everything was there. She hugged her favorite pair of boots to her. “I love these boots.”
“Only because Gray hated them,” Granny Bert reminded her. “Made you as tall as him.”
“Brash doesn’t mind them at all.”
“I always said he was the bigger man.”
“I don’t think I’ll wear this gown, though. I know for a fact they touched it.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of foreign hands on her lingerie. “Come to think of it, I may not wear any of this until I’ve washed it all.”
“Well, you can’t wear that blouse again. It’s still filthy from your roll on the ledge this morning,” Genny said, lifting the curtain to examine the small space. “Good thing it was you, and not me. My hips would have never fit.” She peered down to the great room below. “They’ve already put out the wine and nibbles. I don’t know about y’all, but I could go for a quiet dinner. Everyone suggests the Iron Bridge Wine Company just down the road. We could eat and come back for a nightcap by the fire.”
“After the day I’ve had, a quiet night sounds nice.”
“You two sound like a couple of old ladies,” Granny Bert groused. “I’ve had livelier times at a quilting bee.”
“You don’t quilt,” Madison reminded her.
“And that’s why. Too boring for my tastes.”
Genny watched the few people milling down below. “Mmm, I love that woman’s pant suit. I wish my clothes fit me that well.”
“Which one?” Madison nudged up to the window beside her friend.
“The tall blond. It’s those killer long legs she has.”
Maddy nodded in agreement. “She’s the one I saw that first night, the one I mistook for the innkeeper. She waltzed into the room, looked around for like ten seconds, and breezed out again. See how she holds herself with an air of confidence? Like she owns the room. She must be an athlete of some kind. She’s so poised and graceful.”
“Maybe she’s an actress. She looks like she could be in an action movie or something.”
“Maybe she’s working on a spy thriller and she’s soaking in the ambiance of the house.” She warmed to the idea as she spoke. “Maybe Beady Eyes Black Jacket is playing the part of the bad guy, and they’re both here rehearsing.”
“You and your code names,” her friend snickered.
“Hey, it works, okay? Remember Trench Coat?” It was a name she had used for Caress Ellingsworth’s killer, before she knew the person’s real identity.
“How could I forget? You were nearly killed.”
“I have had more than my fair share of brushes with death,” Maddy agreed. “Who would think running a temporary agency could be so dangerous?”
“Not me. Ooh, and I see what you mean about seeing so well from up here. I can see someone outside on the deck, and another person coming down off the stairs.”
Madison followed her line of sight. “That’s odd,” she said in surprise. “That’s Barton down there on the deck. I thought he’d have checked out by now, after getting the suitcase he wanted so badly.”
“That’s Barton?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because that’s the man from the airport. He was the one with the little girl who gave you the note. I just assumed he was her father.”
“No kids, or so he said,” Granny Bert chimed in.
“This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” Madison said. She stepped back from the window, clearly upset.
“Want to know something even stranger? That blond woman just got a look at Barton and took off after him,” Genny reported. “She’d better hurry, though. He just ran off.”
Chapter 18
Filming wrapped up the next day.
By that evening, a storm blew in. Temperatures dropped and snow flurries danced in the air, mingling with sleet. Wanting no part of the icy roads, the trio of Texans called for takeout and spent their last evening at Peralynna snuggled by the fire.
Madison and Genny ended up on the cuddle room sofa, curled up with glasses of wine and a shared plate of crackers, cheese, and fruit.
“I wish Granny Bert hadn’t gone up so early. I feel guilty hanging out down here without her,” Genny said.
“She’ll never admit it, but I think she’s a bit tired. And she’ll deny this, too, but I bet she’s talking to Sticker right this minute. Now that she knows he wasn’t two-timing her with Miss Wanda, they’re probably on speaking terms again.”
“Do you think she’ll ever marry him?”
“No. But I don’t think she’ll share him with anyone else, either,” Maddy admitted.
Genny swirled the wine in her glass, mesmerized by its golden glow. “I can’t believe I’m actually marrying Cutter. Just a few more days, and I’ll be a married woman,” she said softly.
Madison watched the warm light illuminating her friend’s face. It appeared each time she spoke her fiancé’s name. “Happy, much?”
“Delirious. Why didn’t you tell me love could be like this?”
Madison studied her own wine, wrestling with the truth. “Because I didn’t know,” she admitted lowly. “Not until Brash.”
“Why do you sound troubled by that?”
“Because I loved Gray, once upon a time. I truly did. I wouldn’t have married him if I hadn’t. We had some wonderful years together, and he gave me the twins. They’re my world. But…”
Her friend finished the thought for her. “But you never loved him the way you love Brash.”
“No. I had no idea love could even be like this, so heart and soul.”
Genny nodded in agreement. “So complete.” Her soft voice trembled with emotion. “And so absolutely terrifying.”
“Terrifying?”
Again, she nodded. “That something could happen,” she explained. “That I’ll wake up and find this has all been some wonderful, glorious dream. That he’ll come to his senses and wonder what it was he thought he saw in me. That—”
Maddy stopped her before she could go any further. “That you’ll finally get your happily ever after. That, my friend, is nothing to be afraid of. Embrace it. Enjoy it. This is happening.”
Genny’s dimples reappeared. “It is, isn’t it?” she said with a giggle. She even managed a little happy dance, without spilling a single drop of wine.
“It certainly is. And that man is crazy about you. We all knew it, long before either of you ever did.” Maddy’s voice was smug.
“Just like everyone knew you and Brash would eventually get together. It took you long enough, but you finally managed it.”
“You know what they say. Good things come to those who wait.”
“Hear, hear.”
The friends tipped their glasses together, happy smiles upon both their faces.
“Well, hello, y
ou two.” The innkeeper Sophie stopped for a visit. “Your grandmother isn’t joining you this evening?”
“Not this evening,” Maddy confirmed.
“It’s a messy night out. Perfect for staying in by the fire.” Sophie turned a pointed look toward Madison. “I trust today has been smoother than yesterday?”
Maddy’s answer was slow in coming, as she debated how best to answer. She still hadn’t told the innkeeper the whole truth, that someone had been in their suite and taken the suitcase. In the end, she simply smiled and said, “Yes. I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused.”
“Not to worry. I’m just glad it was a false alarm. All the same, I think perhaps we should lay off the spy stories tonight, don’t you?”
They made the appropriate sounds of laughter. “By the way,” Madison said, before Sophie moved along to greet new guests coming into the room, “I was wondering about one of your guests. A tall, blond woman, quite commanding with her presence. Do you know who I’m talking about?”
Sophie looked around. “Is she in here now?”
“No, I haven’t seen her since last night. She wore a lovely dark-gray pantsuit. The first night we were here, she had on a navy blazer and a blue sweater.”
“That would be Logan McKee. She’s not a guest. She works for one of the intel agencies.”
Though spoken casually, the words slammed into Madison, catching her by surprise. She sucked in a tiny gasp as goose bumps scattered up and down her spine. She cut her eyes at Genny, who managed to squeak out, “Intel?”
It was more of a gulp, than a question. Obviously, Genny shared her unease.
“Yes,” Sophie continued, waving her hand in a breezy manner. “She pops in and out quite often. With the NSA and so many other government agencies practically in our backyard, you never know who might be here at any given moment. We don’t advertise the fact, but they often use the inn as a secure meeting location. It’s even served as a safe house a time or two.”
Madison’s brow puckered in thought. “So, is this Logan McKee an agent?”
Sophie’s laughter twinkled in the air. “I can hardly keep up with all the agencies, much less people’s titles!” She waved to the couple approaching the pastry tray. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Asano.”
“Certainly,” Madison murmured, her mind already miles ahead. She turned toward her friend, reluctant to voice her thoughts. “Genny, you don’t suppose…”
Genny’s blond head was already bobbing. “…that we somehow intercepted a piece of sensitive information?”
“Yes! It would make sense, you know. The note from the little girl, all those crazy letters and numbers, the case.” She gasped and clutched her friend’s arm. “The shadow from the chandelier! What if Logan McKee is a CIA agent, and that’s some sort of coded message for her?”
“I don’t know whether to be excited, or to be frightened,” Genny admitted.
“Why? They have the case back.”
“But you still have the note.”
Madison sucked in a sharp breath. Her voice was little more than a whisper. “That’s right. I do.” She felt around in her pocket and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. “Do we really think this could be some sort of secret message? Some code?”
“I don’t know. Hold it up to the light. Can you see anything?”
“I’m not sure. The paper is textured.”
“No, look! Right along the edges of the petals! Aren’t those letters?”
Madison brought the paper closer in for inspection, keeping it back-lit by the glow from the chandeliers. “I can’t tell, but… yes. Yes, I think that’s a ‘k.’ And an ‘m, p, r.’” She frowned. “That doesn’t make any more sense than those papers in the folders.”
“Maybe they were the key, and this is the code,” Genny suggested. “What are those letters written at the bottom, the ones that look like child’s scribble?”
“Child’s scribble,” Maddy said wryly. “A backwards capital G, a capital L, capital J, and a lower-case p.” She frowned as she studied the crude writing. “Or maybe just a circle with a stick behind it.”
“Hmm. Wonder what it all means?”
“No idea. It doesn’t even sound like something.” She attempted to form a word from the general sounds of g, l, j, and p. It made no sense.
“Egypt?” Genny suggested.
“But what’s the ‘gl’ sound?”
They tried several variations, none of them successful. Madison kept repeating the letters under her breath, hoping something would pop.
“Wait a minute!” A light bulb went off in her head. “GLJP.”
“That’s what we’ve been saying for thirty minutes.”
“No, GLJP. That’s it! Give me a pen and paper, and I’ll show you.”
Genny rooted around in her purse, finally coming out with a sales receipt and a pen. Madison drew the flower pattern she had doodled the day before, created from loopty-doops of the letters GLJP. It was, more or less, a match to the drawing on the paper.
“But if this is a code, why write the letters in plain view, right below it?” Genny wondered.
“Maybe it’s a different sort of key. Maybe it tells you the order, and the direction, the code should be read. Read the G petals backwards, maybe starting at the bottom loop.” She redrew them as she spoke. “The L and J the way you think, the P…” That one gave her pause, until she decided, “The P is lower case, so two loops, like this. It reads last, even though one of its loops comes before the G.”
Genny slapped her friend on the arm. “You’re brilliant! I think you’re right. Hey, you should apply for a job with the CIA. You’re good at this code thing, girlfriend.”
“You forget, I raised twins. They spoke in their own code for the first few years of their lives.”
“This all sounds quite logical, but we still have no idea what the message says.”
“And I don’t think I want to know,” Madison was quick to say. “We should turn this over to the authorities.”
Her phone buzzed with a text message.
“Probably Granny Bert,” she said, digging her phone from her pocket.
Instead, she saw it came from the same number as before.
You have something of ours.
“Uh-oh.” She turned the screen so Genny could read the message.
“Act like you have no idea what they’re talking about.”
Her hands trembled as she typed her reply. You have the case back. Now leave me alone.
“I bet the black light is to read this note,” Genny realized. Irrational as it was, they spoke in hissed whispers.
“You’re probably right. Let’s go back up. I don’t like the idea of leaving Granny alone.”
As their feet hit the first step, Madison’s phone buzzed again.
We want the note.
They reached the second staircase.
Clock is ticking.
Fear seized Madison’s heart. “That sounds like a threat.”
Genny opened the door while Madison prepared a reply. Before she could finish typing, she received another message.
No games. No cops.
“Granny Bert? It’s us,” Genny called. “Granny Bert, where are you?” She walked through the suite as Madison’s phone binged once again. “She must be in the bathroom.”
“I don’t think so,” Madison said, her voice coming out strangled. She turned her phone toward her friend.
We propose another trade.
Below the message was a picture, this one of Granny Bert. Her hands, feet, and mouth were bound, and she lay in a deep pit.
Chapter 19
“They have Granny Bert!”
Horrified, they gasped the words as one voice.
“Those dirty, rotten… who do they think they are, taking our grandmother?” Genny cried in outrage.
“I swear, if they hurt her…”
Hands trembling, as much with anger as with fear, Madison typed her message
.
What do you want?
She didn’t have long to wait. Her phone binged with the reply.
We get note, you get location of your spitfire.
Despite the dire circumstances, Madison couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure she’s more than they bargained for.”
Where and when? She typed.
Hotel in 30. NO COPS.
Genny paced the floor. “What are we going to do?”
Madison enlarged the image on her phone. Something about the surroundings seemed so familiar…
“I know where this is!” she said excitedly. “This is the old cotton mill. I remember seeing this pit.” She grabbed her coat and stuffed her arms inside. “Come on, we’re going to get her!”
“But what if they’re watching us?”
“They’re obviously not at the hotel, if they want to meet us in thirty minutes.” Madison slung her purse onto her shoulder and was already halfway to the door.
“What if we pass them on the road?”
“Good point. Let’s find Sophie.”
They raced down the stairs, heedless to the stares that followed them into the great room. Sophie was still there, visiting with guests.
Madison ran up to her and tugged on her arm, even as she apologized. She pulled the sputtering woman aside, unconcerned now about making a scene. Her voice was breathless and her sentences ran together as she spoke quickly.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, truly I am, but I don’t have time to explain. I lied to you earlier. It wasn’t my overactive imagination. Someone broke into my room and stole something, and now they’ve taken my grandmother. I can’t call the police or they’ll hurt her. I need to borrow your car or the hotel’s van or something they won’t recognize, and I need you to call your friend Logan McKee and tell her I’m headed to the old cotton mill that’s now an antique mall. Tell her it’s a matter of life and death and please stop staring at me like I’m crazy and just DO IT! Give me the keys to your car!”
“I—I can’t,” the innkeeper stammered. “It’s in the shop, and it’s against company policy to allow you to drive the van.” She saw the thunderous light that came to both women’s eyes and quickly added, “But I can have Percy drive you wherever you need to go. Just give me a minute.”