by Becki Willis
“I feel the same way. So, at least for now, you can wipe that petrified look off your face.”
“No offense, but I’m not sure I’m up to those midnight feedings again. Megan had her days and nights mixed up for the first two months of her life. And if we start over with a baby, I might never be able to retire.”
“Not necessarily,” she contradicted mystically. “Here, have a seat in your new chair and let me tell you the rest of the story.”
When she was done, Brash’s mouth hung agape. If not for visual proof, he would have thought she had taken a play from Tom Pruett’s book and made the entire thing up. He questioned everything, but Madison had answers for his inquisitive mind. Knowing how her husband’s mind worked, she had anticipated most of them.
“Now do you see why I’ve been so distracted and testy lately? I hated keeping a secret from you, sweetheart. The guilt was crippling. But I promised Granny Bert.”
“She still has two of the nuggets?”
“Yes. I worry about her, having something so valuable at the house, but we thought it was best to split it up. Genny is the only other person I’ve told, and I didn’t do that until a few days ago. The fewer people who know, the better.”
“Agreed. This must be kept under strict wraps.”
“What do we do now?”
“I suppose we’ll need to report it to the proper authorities.”
Madison gave him a sharp look. “That’s exactly what Granny Bert said you’d say, and the whole reason I didn’t tell you in the beginning!”
“But, the gold…”
“Belonged to Miss Juliet.” Madison crossed her arms over her chest in a show of stubbornness. “Brash, I’m not turning that gold in.”
“We don’t know for a fact that it belonged to Miss Juliet.”
“I found the note, Brash! Weren’t you listening? Darwin’s uncle was a gold miner in Alaska who hit it rich. Darwin dreamed of using it to provide better health care for the less fortunate. Miss Juliet admitted to hiding it until she could make that dream come true. She never did, hence the gold still in the chair, almost a hundred years later.”
Brash gave his auburn head a couple of slow, deliberate shakes. “I guess I’m having trouble absorbing it all.”
“I know.” Her voice softened, and she sank to her knees in front of him. She cradled his hands in hers. “I know, sweetheart. I feel the same way. I know this is all new to you, and it’s overwhelming. I’ve had a little more time to adjust.”
“So, is the gold yours? Granny Bert’s? Both of yours, since you found it together?” He still looked dazed.
“She insisted it’s mine. Said she sold me the house and all its contents. Skeletons, spiders, first-edition books, hidden treasure, and all. I told her to keep the two nuggets she has, but she refuses. So, I suppose they’re ours.”
“Yours.”
“What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine. Ours. That’s how a good marriage works, sweetheart.”
He shook his head again, this time in wonder. “This is still just too unbelievable.”
“There, uh…is more...”
He heard the tentative tone in her voice. “Of course there is.” His sigh was weary. “And if I read you correctly, it means trouble. Is that why you were so eager to share? Split the gold, split the trouble?” he teased.
“That, too, is how a good marriage works,” she answered smoothly.
“Just tell me and get it over with. Does the gold come with some sort of a curse?”
“Possibly. It’s already stirred up quite a bit of trouble.”
She told him about the first time she had seen the black car and the sinister message on her phone. She knew he would be angry. She knew he would fuss at her for putting herself in danger and ignoring the safety measures he had tried teaching her. She knew he would be angrier still, perhaps with good reason, about Mr. Pruett and the things she hadn’t told him.
“How could you, Maddy? You may have put that man’s life in danger!”
“I know. I’ve been so torn. Once I decided to tell you, regardless of the consequences and regardless of the promises I made Granny Bert, there just wasn’t a chance. With the kids being sick… and you working so much… and both birthday parties… Look. I know it was wrong to withhold the information. But the truth is, we still don’t know if he’s actually missing.”
“But he knew about the necklace. He may not have known about the nuggets, but he knows about this necklace, awful as it is.” He held up the offending piece, allowing it to sway back and forth from its long chain.
“It is pretty terrible, isn’t it?” She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out. “Can you imagine Miss Juliet’s face when the jeweler presented that abomination to her?”
“The thing is this has to be worth a small fortune all its own. Besides the weight of the nugget and the thirty-or-so-inch chain, those are real diamonds and rubies.”
“Please tell me that is not my punishment for keeping the truth from you. Please tell me you aren’t going to make me wear that!”
“It would serve you right.” He grinned, slipping the necklace over her neck. “There. It looks… awful.”
He gathered her up and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “You know I have to go back to the house now. I need to see if the intruders found the secret room. While the computers are still on and running, I need to back up all the information, in case they’re password protected. I’ll probably end up taking it all down to the station so we can comb through them there. Maybe we’ll find a clue as to his whereabouts.”
“Do you have to go tonight? But it’s already so late. And it’s your birthday!” Madison protested.
“If you had told me this on Thursday, or, better yet, on Tuesday when Genny first noticed he was gone, I wouldn’t have to. The information would have been much more useful then.” Despite his gentle tone, his eyes held a light of accusation.
“I know. I’m sorry. Can I go with you?”
“It’s a police investigation, Maddy.”
“I know. But I’ve worked with and for the department several times. Consider me a consultant on the case.”
He was slow to agree. “That might work.”
“Of course it will. And you really don’t want to make your deputies get out at this time of night.”
“Abraham is on duty tonight.”
Madison never missed a beat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, “And I really don’t want you cooped up in the tiny little room with that woman.”
“Maddy, I’ve told you a hundred times—” he started in exasperation.
“—what you really want for your birthday,” she finished for him, already loosening the top button of his shirt. “We have a few minutes, don’t we?”
It would take a stronger man than he to resist her offer. “We’ve wasted this much time,” he murmured. “What’s another hour? And Maddy?”
“Uhm?” she asked in distraction, working more buttons loose.
“I can think of one way to make that necklace look better.”
The impossibility of the notion captured her attention. “How’s that?” she wanted to know.
“Make it the only thing you’re wearing.”
Brash called in his intentions to revisit the house on Meadow. Officer Abraham offered to assist, but he assured her it wasn’t necessary. When he stopped by the station to get the newly made key, she offered a second time. He asked her, instead, to keep an eye on the Gold and Silver Exchange, making certain there were no looters.
He and Madison picked their way to Pruett’s guest bath, where she showed him the hinged mirror.
“Good eye, sweetheart. How did you know this was here? We all missed it.”
“It made sense. Tom Pruett loves conspiracy theories and all that secret spy business. He’s just the type to have a super-secret room. When we didn’t find a basement, I remembered the tile didn’t match up in here.” She pointed to her proof. “Wa
tch your step. And your head. Come to think of it, your shoulders may not fit, either.”
It was a tight fit, but Brash made his way through the crudely carved opening.
“Wow. This is impressive,” he said, once they were inside the tiny space. “I can’t turn around in here, but those are some serious machines he has.”
“And look.” She touched a button, bringing the screens to life. “There can’t be two necklaces on earth that are that ugly.” She pointed an accusing finger.
“I don’t know,” Brash said. A twinkle came to his eyes. “The way you wear it gives me an entirely new appreciation for the piece.”
“Get that look out of your eye,” she warned. “No room. And what if there’s a hidden camera?”
“Hey, I wonder if Pruett had any cameras in other parts of the house. Maybe it caught the intruder on tape.”
“I can’t imagine how. This entire house is trashed. If there was a camera, it’s buried in a heap somewhere by now.” Her voice was sad. “The house was plain, but neat as a pin. That is such a shame out there.”
“When the investigation is done, I’ll see about getting someone to come in and put it to rights. Maybe the same cleaning service that half the town uses. Coming Clean, I think it is.”
“Do you have those thumb drives? I can save all the data from this computer, if you want to do that one.”
Together, they backed up as much information as they could. “By the way, I already have photos of everything,” Madison offered. “I’ll send them to you when we get back home.”
“Let’s just hope it’s not a reminder to me of how angry I still am at you for keeping this secret for so long.”
“Remember what we said last night? Water under the bridge,” his wife reminded him.
“Yes, but this water is still running. Let’s just hope it doesn’t drown us both.”
Twenty-Nine
It was very late—or early, depending on one’s perspective—when the weary couple returned home. Madison peeked in on the sleeping teenagers before falling into bed beside her husband.
They awoke just a few hours later, forced to face the new workweek.
“Since you are apparently a consultant on this case now,” Brash informed his wife in a dry tone, “you’ll need to earn your keep. Can you come down to the station today and go through Pruett’s computers?”
At the thought of being officially involved in the case, Madison perked up. “Absolutely!”
“I’ll see you at the station, then. Kiddos, have a great day.” He mussed Blake’s head before collecting kisses to the cheek from both girls.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Megan called after him.
“It looks like I have just enough time to get dressed before dropping you off at school. Clean up after yourselves but don’t worry about loading the dishwasher. Dishes are clean.”
“You know, Mom,” Blake started in. He never missed an opportunity to say, “If you’d buy me a truck, you wouldn’t have to bother with taking us to and from school.”
As always, his mother had a ready reply. “It’s no bother, honey. It’s my pleasure to haul your smiling faces around.”
Still, as Madison jogged up the stairs to the second floor, she considered the luxury of not being her children’s personal taxi service. What if the kids had their own car to drive? Not three of them, mind you, although Megan probably needed her own, as she split her time between her parents’ houses. And if Megan had one, why shouldn’t each of the twins?
Would one of the gold nuggets cover the cost of three used vehicles? It could be worth mentioning to Brash.
Just a thought, she assured herself, hurrying to her closet.
It turned out to be a busy day. Tom Pruett’s computer was password protected, but the code was easy enough to decipher. The man was certainly obsessed with Executive Order 6102, so it seemed logical he would use it as his current password. Madison typed in the numbers, and the blank screen churned to life.
She worked most of the day without pause, pulling information from the many and varied files. Like his mind, Tom Pruett’s digital research was all over the place, covering a multitude of topics that spanned several decades. As she looked through them, a pattern emerged.
There was a story of a man in Dallas who led an all-female orchestra.
There was a file on how to build your own helicopter.
One on Executive Order 6102.
A file for unmanned military drones.
A file on Kobe beef.
Files for making jewelry and files for mining gold.
Details on Nazi and Japanese warplanes, and all things World War II.
A file on Paul Revere and his metal workmanship.
The files were like a road map. They led from one of Tom Pruett’s fantastical stories to another. It seemed that when the man researched a topic, he then imagined himself playing that role in real life. Sorting through file after file, Madison could hear his voice in her mind, reciting much of the very same information she found within. He claimed to have lived out the events, but they were nothing but files on his computer.
Oddly enough, the most interesting and impressive careers of all, those in the Secret Service and the Armed Forces, were the only ones that were real. Brash’s contact confirmed he traveled the world, so his claim of exotic collections could very well be true. Why he felt the need to embellish with other stories could only be answered in his twisted mind.
Madison’s phone rang early in the afternoon. She was surprised to see the home number for Monte Applegate.
“Miz deCordova?” a timid voice asked.
“Yes. Is this Monte?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How are you today, Monte?”
“Not good. I have the stomach bug, and I’m home from school. But that’s not the problem. The problem is Pup is missing again!”
“Oh, dear. That’s not good,” Madison murmured as she saved another file, this one on Smithsonian exhibits. Hadn’t she heard Mr. Pruett talk about that, just a few weeks ago?
“I don’t know how he got loose this time. I know I had him tied and tied good. But I came home from school last Monday, and he was gone.”
“He’s been gone a full week?”
“I kept thinking he would come back,” the boy said in a glum voice. “Plus, it took me awhile to get enough money together to hire you. I only have twelve dollars. Is that enough?”
Madison pretended to consider the offer. “Let me see. With the repeat customer discount, and with the fourteen-day window policy…” She punched a few keys on the keyboard, acting as if it were a calculator. “Your follow-up case would be nine dollars,” she told the hopeful-sounding boy. “Eight, if you’re paying cash.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
“I can’t make any promises, Monte, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Miz deCordova. You’re the best!”
“Again, I can’t promise the same results as last time.”
“But you can try. With his business burning down and all, I’m afraid what kind of mood Ol’ Man Andrews will be in.”
His parting comment haunted Madison. The more she thought of his sorrowful voice, the more she worried. How would Lamont Andrews react to finding Pup on his property again? He might very well make good on his threat to ensure it was the last time.
She left early and drove out to the old barn, just to make certain Pup wasn’t trapped inside again. She called Genny on the way.
“Do I need to come with you?”
“Thanks, but I’m good. I’m coming prepared this time. I stopped by the house and raided Brash’s tools. I have a claw hammer, crowbar, and a pair of wire cutters, just in case. Oh, and a flashlight and water boots to wade the grass. If Pup is trapped inside the barn again, it should be an easy rescue.”
Genny’s voice sounded doubtful. “If you say so.”
“I’m almost to the Exchange. If Lamont’s car is there, I’m good to go.”
“Okay, but be careful. If at any point you need backup, give me a call.”
“Will do. Thanks, Gen. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Turning the corner, Madison saw the destruction. The front of the Gold and Silver Exchange was boarded up with shiny new plywood, a stark contrast to the smut-covered cinder block walls beneath it. Some of the blocks crumbled near the top. Overhead, the roof was charred and, in some places, caved inward. Curls of pale smoke wafted up from the heavily damaged building. On the air drifted the stink of burnt electrical wires, charred wood, and patchouli.
“What a mess,” Madison muttered. “And what a shame. I must say, I feel sorry for Lamont.” She drove around back, to confirm his car sat in the parking lot. Even the white sports car had traces of smut and ash on its hood.
Confident Lamont was occupied at his store, Madison turned down Sawyer Road. As her tires gobbled up the distance, her mind was on Tom Pruett and his complicated mind. She imagined the man had been brilliant at one time, before age and disease ravaged his memory and ate away at his cognitive skills.
Like Granny Bert said, a mind was a terrible thing to lose.
As before, Madison parked at the edge of the public road. Gathering her supplies, she sprinted through the tall grass to the back of the old barn. Lamont Andrews still had not mowed this side of the driveway.
“Pup?” she called quietly. “Are you in there, boy?”
There was no sound from within. Madison thumped the wall and called again. This time, she was rewarded with Pup’s sharp bark.
“It’s okay, boy. I’ve come to get you.”
Madison found the knothole from before and peered inside. Too dark. She shared the space with the beam of the flashlight, allowing her to see shadows and lumpy forms.
From the sounds of his excited whimpers and barks, the dog ran around in circles before racing to the back where she was. She heard the click of claws on wood and the thump of his paws as he reared up on the wall. Pup whined and barked, begging for attention.
“Give me a minute, boy. I’ll have you out and back home in no time.” Madison lifted the hammer and attempted to pry the boards apart with the metal claw. When it didn’t work as easily as she had imagined, she added, “I hope.”