Mark of the Loon (Gen Delacourt Mystery Book 1)

by Molly Greene

  “Nah.” Madison snapped her fingers. “On to the next thing.” She thought of the countless times she’d packed and moved since her parents died. Every sale made money but felt like a loss. Every loss reminded her of the previous one. “It’s what I do.”

  “What?” Gen put her hands on her hips. “Work your fingers to the bone and never take a break to appreciate the journey?”

  “Gen,” Anna said. “That’s harsh.”

  “Oh, she’s right, in a way,” Madison said. “I’d love to find a spot to stay put in someday. But right now I’m building capital. I can’t afford to get attached to anything.”

  “Or anyone?” Anna asked.

  “Onward and upward,” Madison said. “The work gives me something to focus on.”

  “Really?” Anna’s voice was tender. “Don’t you think these projects are your personal addiction?”

  “So what? I’ll drink more if it makes you feel better.”

  “You’re all work and no play,” Gen said. “We want you to be happy.”

  “What am I doing right now? Oh, yeah, hello. I’m about to have an adventure and spend time with my best friends.”

  “Madison,” Anna said. “I think maybe you sell because you’re too attached.”

  “Stop.” Madison threw up her hands and walked away. “You’re making way too much of it. I don’t need to be analyzed. This is just one of the things I do to bring money into the coffers.” She gestured toward the living room. “Remodeling has been an education. That’s all. I do it for the money. Honestly, don’t you think we should be dissecting Gab and Dilbert the Dog’s lives instead of mine?”

  Genevieve picked up a framed picture of the four at Gabrielle’s wedding a dozen years before. Gabi was dressed in ivory and three months pregnant. Her friends flanked her in pale green, all smiling, all ecstatic for their newly-married sister and friend. “Some things don’t change,” she said.

  “Everything changes,” Anna said. “The only variable is how fast.”

  “See, even Pollyanna agrees, everything changes. So why is it such a big deal if I ditch this place?” Madison replied. “Come on, let’s go. We can talk about Gabi on the way. And Gen, I’m hoping you can bring me up to speed on probate sales while we’re on the road.”

  Anna threw her arms around Madison.

  “You guys are all I need,” Madison said, her voice muffled by Anna’s shoulder. “Actually, all I can handle. Hardy har har.”

  “Okay, all right, okay.” Genny replaced the picture and pulled out her car keys with a wicked grin. “Dare me to drive with my death mask on.”

  Madison yelled, “Shotgun!” and raced out the door.

  They climbed into Genny’s car and headed north.

  Gen and Madison bickered over the radio. “Not NPR,” Madison said. “I want a country station and tunes about tough women to get us in the mood for tonight.”

  “Girlfriend,” Gen said. “We don’t need help in that department.”

  “Sometimes I wonder,” Madison replied. “Well, anyway, Gabi needs strength. I feel like we should be doing something. And how is Emily holding up? The last few times I’ve been over she’s either at the mall or in her room.”

  “How do you think?” Gen replied. “Tension is high in the Radcliffe household. My niece is about to turn thirteen. Her hormones are raging. She was ripped away from her friends against her will and transported to the sticks. Now her dad has decided he doesn’t want to live with them anymore.”

  “But Emily’s made friends,” Anna said. “I met them. Jennifer and, uh, Samantha somebody.”

  “She’s coping,” Gen said. “It helps that she’s on top of the heap here, celeb mom and all.”

  “She’s playing that card?” Anna asked.

  “I think it’s getting played for her.” Gen said. “Meanwhile, Gabi is distracted and she doesn’t see it, but Emily is acting out. Thirteen going on thirty-three. What happened to roller skates and the Piggly Wiggly?”

  Anna snickered in the back seat. “You’ve never shopped at Piggly Wiggly in your life.”

  “But still.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Gen,” Madison said. “Em is an old soul. Sometimes I think she’s the mom and Gab is the kid who needs protection. And cripes, Gabi’s skinny as a stick.”

  Gen said. “She’s still mad at God for not writing the script according to her plan.”

  “Anger is a part of grieving,” Anna said. “It can give us strength and protection. For a while, anyway.”

  “Well, she’s pissed off at the world,” Gen said. “You all witnessed it last night when she expressed her bitterness to your hunky professor. Yum, by the way.”

  Madison pressed a hand to her lips. “Oh. I forgot to tell you. Mr. Welles and I happened to leave Maud’s at the same time last night. He mentioned he’d seen a house he was interested in and asked if I could show it to him tomorrow.”

  “What?” Gen pounded on the dashboard. “How could you not be falling all over yourself to tell us when we walked in the door? Lucy, you got some ’splainin’ to do.”

  “I just forgot, okay? I’m telling you now. He met a real estate agent, he thought it was a coincidence because he’d been thinking about calling an agent to show him this house that came up for sale. That’s it. Just business. I was convenient.”

  Gen and Anna’s eyes met in the rearview mirror. Anna raised her palms skyward.

  “You’re hopeless,” Gen said. “At least brush your hair and put on an outfit that doesn’t look like a thrift shop deal. Do it for me. I’d give my right pinky to be you tomorrow. Don’t let me down.”

  Madison shook her head but turned to gaze at the gathering dusk to hide her smile. She glanced back as Gen threw up her hands, then grabbed the wheel again and gave Madison a dirty look.

  “It’s okay to think about romance when you meet a good-looking man. He’s smart. He seems real.”

  “Stop with the stinkeye.” Madison looked out the window again.

  “Pessimism is a self-fulfilling philosophy,” Anna said. “You get what you think you’re going to get.”

  Madison faced them and draped her arm across the back of the seat. “Listen people, why am I the target tonight? What about you, Gen? I don’t see a diamond on your finger. You’re not stepping over boxer shorts on your floor every morning.”

  “Hey, at least I date,” Gen said. “I’ve spent time with a lot of great guys, and I’ll continue to try on men until I find someone fabulous who worships the ground I walk on. And Anna has Hodge.”

  “Yeah,” Madison said. “Thanks to me.”

  Hodge Tooley was an electrical contractor who’d worked on several of Madison’s remodels. He was talented, and he made her laugh. She’d spoken so highly of him Anna finally stopped by one day, curious to meet the guy. They hadn’t been apart since.

  “The point is, we’re out there,” Gen continued, “which is more than I can say for you. I worry you’ll just settle into your life and be alone.”

  “She’s right,” Anna said. “I know it’s easier to be on your own. You don’t have to compromise or deal with someone else’s habits or choices or behaviors or family or friends. But working at a relationship helps you grow.”

  “I’m not lonely,” Madison said. “I have Jack. I keep busy. And I appreciate your concern, but enough already. I hardly think about being single. Like I said, you should be worried about Gabi. What can we do for her?”

  Silence filled the car.

  Finally, Anna replied. “Just be there, be her friend, listen to her.” She poked Madison’s arm. “That’s what we do best. Accept each other as we are.”

  Gen regarded Anna in the rearview mirror. “When did you get so smart? I need to pay more attention.”

  “Okay.” Madison pinched Anna’s cheek. “Now lay off.”

  Anna laughed. “Okay, Gen, talk about probate sales before she has withdrawals.”

  “Thank God,” Madison said. “Real estate, a subject I can relate to. A
nd chauffer, please take the next left. Time to load your weapons, we’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Okay, probate sales. Let me think. From what I can remember, California probates are pretty straightforward. The Executor decides which of two processes to use. Since the sale date has been set, it appears they’ve got an offer. In which case the state requires public notification so overbids can be accepted.

  “I think you have to come in a certain amount over the current offer. If it’s not challenged by the original bidder or others at the sale, the judge would simply approve the overbid. The buyer presents a cashier’s check for a deposit to show intent and has time to secure a loan. But you need to double-check all that, because it’s just what I remember from studying for the Bar.”

  “But how could they already have an offer if the property isn’t listed? It’s not in the database, there’s no sign outside, and I haven’t seen it in the paper. Other than your fax.”

  “Maybe a relative?” Gen said.

  “Seems like the chaplain would have told me that when he gave me the attorney’s card,” Madison replied. “I tried to call when I got back to the office, but the guy was gone for the day.”

  “What’s his name?” Gen asked.

  “Levi Velasco.” Madison replied. “Velasco, Epstein, and Barr, Oakland.”

  “Get out,” Gen spluttered. “No way! Vile Velasco does probates? I thought he only cheated women out of their alimony, pushed old ladies down the steps of the courthouse, stuff like that.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t tell me that.”

  “Wish I had something good to say. We were on opposite sides in a case way back in the day. He was an idiot then, and from what I’ve heard over the years, he’s still bad news.”

  Gen was quiet for a moment. “Did you leave your name?”

  “No,” Madison said. “I told the receptionist I’d call back Monday.”

  “Let me talk to him,” Gen said. “The disgusting little butthead kind of had a thing for me. And you know how I love to poke around.”

  Anna pulled herself forward again. “She’s the best snoop.”

  “Okay, he’s all yours. And Gen, we’re almost there. Turn left on Mill Creek Road, about a block up.”

  “Perfect timing,” Gen said. “It’s starting to get dark.”

  “Here’s the plan,” Anna said. “I have my cell zipped into my vest pocket so it won’t fall out.” She poked Madison’s arm again. “And I have a flashlight in my other pocket.”

  “What, no night vision glasses?” Madison chuckled.

  “We asked,” Anna replied. “Walmart doesn’t carry them.”

  “I’ll let you out,” Gen said. “Then I’ll drive to the road that dead-ends by the lake. If the gates are open, I’ll go in and wait. If they’re not, I’ll toodle along a side road. If anyone sees me, they’ll think I’m a lost tourist looking for the scenic route.”

  “Whoa, slow down, we’re here.” Madison said. “It’s coming up on the left.”

  “I see nothing,” Gen said.

  “Exactly. Slower, slower – wait! There.” She pointed. “The roses. Pull over, that’s it.”

  Gen rolled to a stop when her door was even with the chaos of blossoms. “How long will it take to get to the house?”

  “Not five minutes,” Madison said. She and Anna slipped out. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be in and out in fifteen.”

  “Call me when you find it and I’ll meet you here,” Gen whispered, then drove away.

  Madison led Anna into the overgrown drive. She pulled a flashlight from her own pocket, thumbed it on, and held the light on the ground. Anna lit hers, then shoved it beneath her chin and smiled a toothy, chilling smile.

  Madison popped her on the cheek. “Stop.”

  “What, no fun?” Anna asked.

  “No,” Madison replied. “Do not make me laugh until we’re safely in the car and no one’s chasing us with a big stick. Come on, let’s check out the gate.”

  This time it was locked, and they were forced to climb the rickety ironwork. On the other side, they began to race-walk up the cobbled road, flashlights trained on the ground.

  When they reached the circular drive, Madison gasped and jerked Anna into the bushes. “Did you see that?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” Anna replied. “A light in the house. Now what?”

  “Heck if I know. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

  As if on cue, the light was extinguished. They heard a door slam at the back of the house, then watched as eerie lantern glow wound its way toward the top of the hill.

  “Think that was the parson?” Anna kept her voice low. “Or hey, I know. Whoever cleans the house lives next door. You said the place was spotless.”

  “I like that theory. It’s way less creepy than what I was thinking,” Madison said. “Whoever cleans the house lives in the neighborhood and has a preference for dusting on Saturday nights and walking home in the dark. Makes perfect sense.”

  She felt a sharp jab in her back and giggled. “Okay, the coast is clear. My phone could be anywhere from this point on.”

  Anna and Madison returned to the drive, whipping flashlights right and left. They skirted the house on the same path Madison walked the day before, until they reached the shrub-shrouded window.

  Madison leaned in to light up the dirt below her original point of entry. “Call my cell,” she whispered. Anna thumbed the buttons on her phone. Five seconds later, she heard Anna’s whispered cheer at the familiar chime.

  Both flashlights swerved toward the sound.

  A sharp cracking erupted. A large, furry creature shot from the undergrowth, throwing a hail of earth and leaves as it disappeared into the night. The women clung to one another, holding on until it was clear that whatever caused the melee wasn’t coming back.

  “What was that?” Anna cried.

  “It looked like a cat. Didn’t it look like a cat to you?” Madison’s lips were trembling. “Whatever it was, it scared the crap out of me.”

  She leaned in to pull the blinking phone from its bed of dead leaves. It cast a dim light that reflected off the edge of a dull metal object half-buried in the earth. The creature’s hasty retreat must have kicked the mulch away from the metal gadget.

  A shiver ran through her.

  She plucked both objects from beneath the woody trunk. When she straightened, her flashlight revealed an oxidized copper plaque, two inches in length by an inch wide, enveloped in a rich green patina. A key dangled from a circle welded to one edge.

  Raised letters on the face formed the words Nead Éin.

  “Curious.” Madison shoved it in her pocket.

  “What was that?” Anna asked.

  “Some kind of old key. I wish I’d found it yesterday. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to climb in the damn window. Come on, let’s blow this hotdog stand.”

  They hurried across the terrace. As they turned toward the driveway, Madison said, “Anna, before we go I want you to see the carriage house–”

  The words caught in her throat.

  The flashlight lit up a mound of earth on the side of the garage.

  She jogged over and cast the beam around. Several similar hills were piled up beyond it. Madison whispered as Anna came up behind her. “These holes were definitely not here yesterday.”

  “Maybe they were looking for the septic tank,” Anna said. “Didn’t you tell me once it has to be pumped or checked or something every time a house is sold?”

  “You must be right.” She shook her head and turned away. “My mind is running away with me, what with creeping around in the dark and finding old keys and all. Let’s get out of here.”

  They began to run, slowing only long enough for Anna to call Gen. Minutes later, the two women climbed the gate as the car pulled up. They scrambled into the BMW.

  “I was getting a tad worried. Anna said you found it?”

  “Yes.” Madison held up the cell. “Looks like I’m back in business. Literally.” She
waved the key in her other hand. “Not only that, we’re now the proud owners of a pass to Nead Éin, wherever that is.”

  Gen grinned. “Maybe it’s the key to happiness, baby.” She snapped off a stem from the roadside rose and plunked it on the dash. “Fasten your seatbelts,” she cried, then cracked an imaginary whip over the hood of the car and stomped on the gas.

  Madison turned to shake her fist at the rear window. “Take that, Reverend Kavanaugh, wherever you–”

  A flash behind them made her stop mid-sentence and gasp.

  “Good God, did you lose something again?” Genny yelped. “Should I turn around?”

  “No. Go, go, go,” Madison whispered, watching the shadows. She turned back and sighed. “Just my mind playing tricks. I thought I saw something reach for the car. Home, James. Please. Too much excitement for one night. I’m shaking like a leaf.”

  Chapter Six

  Sunday afternoon Madison pulled to the curb across the street from the house on Lake Road. Coleman Welles stood in the shade beside the Porsche, his shoulder canted into the trunk of a huge pepper tree that grew in the sidewalk planting strip. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of dark denim jeans. Sunglasses masked those remarkable eyes. The navy polo he wore looked new, but the expensive loafers on his feet were well-worn. The leather looked as soft as butter.

  She pushed her Wayfarers up into her hair, then angled over and opened the passenger door. She wore a blue skirt and a print blouse, an outfit she reserved for showing appointments.

  Cole walked to the Toyota and leaned in. “Hey,” he said. “Ready to be my tour guide?”

  “I am.” Madison twisted in the seat to face him. “Remember, I haven’t seen the house yet, so I’m not knowledgeable about the property. But I can tell you a couple things before we walk through. Hop in and I’ll crank up the air. Have you done any research at all on the place?”

  He hooked his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt, then slid into the seat and closed the door. “I know nothing but the address and what it looks like from the outside. And the price.”