Mark of the Loon (Gen Delacourt Mystery Book 1)

by Molly Greene

  He looked unhappy.

  “What does Velasco look like?”

  Tyler greeted him, but the stranger waved him away and pointed at Sloan. The boy popped his head into Christopher’s office and ushered the guy in, closing the door behind him.

  “Short. Dark. Not handsome.”

  “He’s here. Just sat down in front of my broker. He’s waving around a big packet. Now he’s throwing it down on the desk. What do you think it is?”

  “Hard to say.” Gen’s voice caught. “I’m sorry, Mad.”

  “It’s not your fault. I started this, not you. We’ll get through it, whatever it is.”

  Christopher Sloan was speaking. His visitor responded roughly, using big gestures. He pointed out into the main office. Christopher’s eyes slid to Madison, then back to his ranting guest. Velasco followed his look, then whipped around and strutted out. He slammed the broker’s door, then stamped across the foyer and out to the street.

  Sloan beckoned with a crooked finger.

  Madison gulped air. “Gotta go, Gen. Call you later.” She thumbed off the phone and went to Christopher’s office.

  “Friend of yours?” he asked.

  She took the seat vacated by Velasco. “Never seen him before.”

  “He’s unhappy with you, Madison. So unhappy that he wants you to leave the neighborhood. In fact, he wants you off your property so bad he’s willing to offer a quarter of a million dollars more than you paid for your house. That’s how much he wants you out.”

  “What?” she cried. “He’s crazy. I’m not leaving.”

  “Odd reaction from someone who flips houses for profit. Seems like you’d be over the moon. Two hundred fifty grand richer and nary a finger lifted.” Sloan pushed the envelope across the desk.

  “I–I–” Madison stopped. “I can get more in a couple of years.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. A bird in the hand. I don’t know what you’ve been doing out there to rile up the natives, but I’d seriously consider this very nice price.”

  She scowled. “I’ve been minding my own business. He can’t make me sell. Whose side are you on?”

  “I’m on the side where the seller gets a big beautiful check.”

  “What if I just want to stay put for a while?”

  “I’d say it might be regrettable. I fear this is not so much an offer as an ultimatum.” Christopher closed his eyes, then leaned back in his padded executive’s chair and breathed deeply in and out.

  His lids fluttered open. He cut his eyes to her.

  “The guy insinuated that the plan is to make your life miserable if you don’t walk away.”

  * * *

  Madison grabbed her things and ran to the parking lot, fumbling for her phone and keys. She remoted open the car and thumbed speed dial, then scooted into the driver’s seat and threw her bag and files down, leaving the door ajar.

  “He offered me a ton of money to vacate in thirty days,” Madison said.

  “Who’s he representing?” Gen asked.

  “I don’t know. The paperwork doesn’t name anyone but Velasco. He’s acting as the agent.”

  “What the hell is here that they want so bad?”

  “Good question.”

  “Damn,” Gen replied. “We need to find out.”

  Suddenly, the door of the 4Runner was yanked wider. Madison shrieked and whipped her face toward the window. Velasco’s eyeballs were six inches from her own.

  She scuttled over against the center console.

  “What happened?” Gen cried.

  Madison tried to slip across to the passenger seat. Velasco gripped her forearm hard and held her, then wrestled the phone away and threw it in the back. He stared for a beat, then spoke quietly.

  “You look like an intelligent young woman. You keep bad company, but that’s common enough.”

  “Your friends don’t strike me as all that desirable, either.” Madison tried to jerk her arm away. He held on. His smile chilled her.

  “But my friends have money. And right now, they want what you have. He who has the gold, you know. So if you’re smart, you’ll sign the offer and go away. If you don’t, you’ll be very, very sorry.”

  “Are you threatening me?” she asked.

  “I’m warning you that you will regret your decision if you don’t sell your property to my client. And soon.”

  Madison stared back.

  “Wow, cool action.”

  Tyler’s voice startled them both.

  He’d approached unnoticed and was filming the scene with his phone. “What’s your email, dude? I’ll download the clip and shoot you a copy. Just in case you need it for YouTube or something.”

  Madison caught sight of Christopher behind him, holding out a cassette recorder.

  “Enough drama for one day,” Christopher said. “You really should go now, Mr. Velasco. We’ll be in touch about the offer. But first, please tell Miss Boone you won’t be bothering her again.”

  Velasco dropped her arm and stepped away. The expression on his face echoed the storm clouds overhead. He spun on his heel and ran for his car, leaving the parking lot with a grind of the Audi’s gears and the sound of squealing tires.

  “Intense,” Tyler said. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Madison rubbed her upper arm. “I’m just really, really pissed off.”

  “I hear ya,” Tyler answered. “Dude drives like a girl.”

  * * *

  The following day, Gen prepared an answer for Velasco, filled with legalese and basically advising him to go jump in the lake. She couriered the document to San Francisco and informed his office she’d filed a restraining order. It prohibited Levi Velasco from setting foot on the premises or coming within a hundred feet of herself or Madison Boone, regardless of the circumstances.

  That afternoon, a call from Gen’s office came through.

  “There are no records of any kind for a clergyman in Sonoma named Ryan Kavanaugh,” her assistant said. “Men with a hundred variations of that name, but not one minister type up there. They combed through everything they had access to. They said to tell you it might not be unusual, though, if he’s a minister. The church probably takes care of all his needs.”

  “How is it possible not to leave some kind of digital footprint?” Genny asked.

  Her assistant tried to hide a laugh. “They said to ask you if you’re sure he’s not a ghost.”

  “Tell that bunch of lunatics I said to keep looking.”

  Chapter Thirty

  A few days later, Madison loaded Genevieve into the back of her SUV and drove to her Santa Rosa orthopedist. Since the fracture had continued to heal well, her full cast was removed and a smaller walking cast fitted to her leg. A physical therapist taught Gen to use her new crutches, and she was cleared to go home.

  “Congrats,” Madison said as they left the doctor’s office. “You’re mobile.” She walked alongside as Gen hopped to the car. “I bet you’ll be ecstatic to sleep in your own bed again.”

  “I’m not going,” Gen replied.

  “Why? Thought you’d be itching to get back.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone.” She lifted a crutch and handed it to Madison, then maneuvered onto the passenger seat, handed the other over, and lifted her cast in.

  “I’ll be fine,” Madison said. She tucked the crutches into the back, then pulled herself into the driver’s seat. “Go home.”

  “My curiosity is killing me. I’m dying to know why Velasco’s client wants the place so badly. If it’s okay, I’d like to stay a week or two longer. Now that I can climb the stairs and poke around a little.”

  “So it’s not about me.” Madison started the car and swung the Toyota into the street. She headed toward Maud’s, where they were meeting Gabi and Anna to celebrate Gen’s freedom. “You just want to be Eliot Ness.”

  “It is about you,” Gen replied. “Kind of.”

  “Gen, stay as long as you want. I was sad about you leaving, anyway. It’s
been fun. But I’ll warn you, I’m tearing out the kitchen wall next week. Dust, confusion, you get the picture. Better think about whether you’re ready for a big chaotic mess.”

  * * *

  Gabrielle and Anna stood and clapped when the pair entered the restaurant.

  “You’re thinner,” Anna said. “How could you lose weight just sitting around on your butt?”

  “Thanks for noticing,” Gen said. “I was trying. Plus there was the country air and hauling that hundred pound ballast around. Weightlifting my body in and out of the chair. All that helped.”

  “How does it feel to be free?” Gabi asked.

  “You tell me,” Gen replied.

  “I imagine it feels like starting a new chapter in your life,” her sister replied evenly.

  “Is that so? Same here.”

  Gabrielle blinked. “How’s the remodel coming?”

  “Splendidly,” Madison said.

  “Hodge says he’s coming up next week to do some work,” Anna said. “Okay if I tag along?”

  “Of course,” Gen and Madison said in unison.

  Anna laughed. “Any more annoying visitors?” she asked.

  Gen and Madison exchanged a look.

  Madison threw her a sign. No.

  “Just Taegan, and he’s not annoying,” Mad replied. “We told you about him. He comes around a couple times a week to teach us sign language.”

  “Gabi, tell us about the audition thing,” Genny said.

  Gabrielle looked pleased. “Nothing came of it. But I’ve been in talks with someone else about another project.”

  “Will it take you back to L.A.?” Madison asked.

  “I’m not sure.” She studied the menu.

  “Could you be more vague?” Gen asked.

  “Don’t want to say yet.”

  “Rats.” Madison asked. “What’s the news about Dillox the Pillbox?”

  “Good topic.” Gen’s eyes were fixed on her sister. “Are you divorcing him?”

  “I filed the week after Thanksgiving.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Anna cried.

  “I didn’t want to talk about it.” Gabrielle looked around the table. “Dillon and I are in arbitration to split our assets. He’s begging me to come back. I’m trying to resist because I know he’d cheat again.” She looked down. “I’ve loved him for a long time.”

  “Gab.” Gen reached across the table and covered her sister’s hand with her own. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Gabi’s eyes filled with tears. “But I’ve realized something. I want to live in a world where the girl ‘gets it,’ and she gets the boy and the boy is wonderful and loving and he adores her and he wants to stay. And he ‘gets it,’ too. I want to live in a world where people are happy most of the time, and have the guts to do the right thing. I want to live in that world.”

  “Don’t settle for less,” Anna said. “Remember the old saying, ‘become the man you want to marry’? We attract men who are a reflection of us.”

  “Easier said than done, Anna,” Madison replied.

  “You’re doing it.” Gen said softly. “I’ve watched you change these past weeks.”

  “A toast.” Anna raised her water glass and the others followed suit. “Here’s to every wound we’ve ever felt, every tear we’ve ever shed, every ditch we’ve been in, and every wall we’ve ever climbed.”

  They clinked glasses.

  “And to everything we gained once we reached the other side.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “The next stair creaks.” Madison stood a dozen treads below. “Don’t freak out and fall because I’ll go down, too.”

  The step squeaked right on cue. Gen laughed and opened Edward’s office door, then pushed it in with a crutch. She turned on the overhead light and hitched over to the desk.

  “It’s like a museum, all right.” Genny sat in the desk chair, winded. “I hate to give this stuff away before we have a chance to check for clues.”

  Madison chuckled. “Hey 007, think maybe coded notes are stashed inside the stuffed birds? Maybe a knife or a bloody thumbprint on the glass?”

  “Hardy har,” Gen said. “Start handing me things.”

  “You’re not the boss of me anymore. Most of this is headed for the archives at Sonoma State. I promised them to Evelyn Udell. Let’s get busy.”

  “Where’s the pigeon coop?”

  Madison dropped the packing boxes and opened the center cabinet, then unlatched the second access. She pulled the door open. A dozen bug-eyed, piebald birds stared back, then flashed away through the vent at the end of the aviary.

  “I’ll be danged,” Gen said, peering over Madison’s shoulder. “Maybe you better get some bird seed next time you go to the store.”

  “Yeah, we can lace it with truth serum,” Madison drawled. “Yeah, that’ll make ‘em talk.”

  “Quite the comedian today,” Gen said. “I can see you’re not taking this quest seriously.”

  “Quest? Ha ha ha.”

  “Come on. There’s something fishy on Mill Creek Road, and you know it.”

  “The only thing that’s weird besides you is that we got in the way of someone’s plan to buy an old house, and it pissed them off.” Madison shut the coop door.

  Gen ignored her and pulled a stuffed bird from the cabinet, then turned it over and checked its underside carefully.

  Madison sighed. “As long as you’re amused.” She assembled a group of books and taxidermy from the shelves, carefully retaining every tag and note that accompanied them.

  Genny protested more than once.

  “Madison, how can you bear to part with this?”

  An hour later, five boxes were filled and inscribed with a list of the contents. Only the upper cabinets remained.

  Madison stood on a chair and opened a glass door, then removed more of Edward’s journals. The last of the stack was wedged against the back of the shelf.

  She tugged it free and sucked in a quick breath.

  Gen was on her feet before Madison could exhale. “What did you find?”

  “An old envelope. I wasn’t expecting it, hence the loud sucking in of air.”

  “Gimmeee, gimmee, gimmee.”

  Madison handed it over. Gen peered inside.

  “Aha.” She plucked something out and held it up with a smug smile. “Exhibit A.”

  It was a flat, rectangular band of paper about eight inches long and two inches wide. In the middle was a circle with a full-color picture of a loon. The bird was marked with a red slash across its speckled throat.

  “There’s a dozen or so of them here.”

  “A Red-Throated Loon.” Madison took the paper and turned it over. The back was blank. No writing appeared anywhere on the strip. “What do you think it’s for?”

  “It looks like a label or a bookmark,” Gen replied. “Whatever it is, we’re keeping it, and all the journals stay, too, until we can go through them. I say nothing leaves our possession until it starts to make sense.”

  Madison chuckled, then stepped off the chair and fisted her hands on her hips. “Edward Blackburne studied that bird most of his life. He probably found these and kept them because of his work.”

  “Exactly,” Gen said, then rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips to imitate her friend. “You’re such a buzz kill.”

  The mimicry struck Madison. She began to laugh so hard she couldn’t speak.

  Stop, she signed.

  Genny replied, I can’t. You first.

  “Enough fun for one day,” Madison finally said. “Let’s get this stuff downstairs.”

  “Whuuuuuuuuk chhh.” Genevieve made the sound of a cracking whip. She heaved herself up, tucked the crutches under her arm, and headed for the stairwell.

  * * *

  Late that afternoon, Madison washed her hair, then dressed in dark jeans and a cashmere sweater.

  Gen was in the sitting room, inspecting the safe with a lamp and a screwdriver. Madison could hea
r the tinny sounds as the tool tapped against the metal door and wood surround.

  “Find anything?” she called.

  “You just pay attention to getting pretty for your guy.”

  Madison was nervous. This was her first dinner at Cole’s. The couple talked on the phone often and when Madison was in town, they met at Maud’s or brown-bagged at a park. Otherwise, they’d moved slowly, letting their relationship develop.

  She was getting to know him well.

  So far, she liked what she saw. Very much.

  Cole had come to the house on weekends to weed the planting beds. He’d brought manure and, with Madison’s approval, designated an area for a spring vegetable garden.

  He made her laugh. She liked that, having a man around who made her laugh.

  She put on earrings and brushed her hair, then took a good look in the mirror. This being-a-girl thing was like riding a bike. One did not actually forget how it was done.

  She smiled at her reflection, then walked to the next room. Gen was crouched on her knees, butt toward the door and legs splayed behind her, peering at the bottom shelf.

  “There’s salad and leftover casserole for dinner, Sherlock.”

  Gen pulled her head out of the cabinetry and fake-smiled at her friend, then whistled. “Nice. Somebody’s gonna have a good time tonight. Did you shave your legs?”

  Madison signed an Irish swear word.

  Gen widened her eyes in bogus surprise, then smiled. “Don’t drink and drive. Have fun. Remember your curfew. Call if you’re going to be late.”

  “Don’t fall down the stairs when you make your getaway.”

  “I know why you’re not taking this seriously, Mad.”

  “Why?”

  “The Professor has you all googly-eyed. He’s all you can think about.”

  Madison laughed. Yes, her world was looking mighty rosy.

  * * *

  Cole opened the door of his condo with a smile and a flourish. He took the bottle of wine she offered, then her coat. A fire crackled in the fireplace. Soft music played in the background.

  “What instrument is that I hear?” Madison asked.