Act Two

by Denise Grover Swank

  He advanced toward me, but then I heard a man say in a low, threatening voice, “Put the weapons down, Lopez. It’s over.”

  It was Owen.

  Dr. Lopez lifted a look of surprise to the door. “You think you’re going to get away with—”

  Two gunshots rang out and I ducked, huddling next to the bookcases.

  Geraldo Lopez fell to the floor, and Owen burst in through the door. He squatted next to the body, then pulled out his phone, saying something about how the suspect was deceased.

  Owen squatted next to me. “Magnolia?” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, unable to find the words to speak.

  “Let me help you up, okay?”

  I nodded again and let him lead me outside and down the steps. Flashing lights were bouncing off the houses and the driveway, and I wondered when they had shown up. I hadn’t heard the sirens.

  “Someone get her a blanket,” Owen said, and only then did I realize I was shaking uncontrollably.

  “Maggie!” The sound of Brady’s voice jarred something in me, and I started to cry.

  He rushed through the crowd, looking me up and down as he approached me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, crying too hard to speak.

  “She’s in shock,” Owen said quietly. “We need to have her looked over for injuries. There were multiple gunshots before I showed up.”

  I shook my head. “I’m okay. He didn’t shoot me. He missed.”

  “Where is he?” Brady asked, his eyes murderous.

  “Dead,” Owen said. “When I showed up, he had a gun and a knife and was threatening to cut her face. I told him to drop his weapons, but he lunged for Maggie, and then I shot him.” He paused. “I had to protect her.”

  “Thank you,” Brady said, pulling me into a hug.

  But I flinched as he put pressure on the bruises and welts on my back. Before I realized what he was doing, he scooped me up and carried me to an ambulance parked on the street.

  I started to protest, but I was too overwhelmed.

  He set me down on a stretcher, and the EMTs took my blood pressure.

  They made me lie down, but I wasn’t having it. “I’m fine,” I finally said, trying to sit up.

  Brady pushed me back down. “Your blood pressure is low from shock, so just lie still for a few minutes. Okay? Please don’t scare me more.”

  “You were scared?” I asked in surprise.

  “I was terrified.” His eyes looked wild as he ran a hand over his head. “I thought he was going to kill you. Thank God for Owen.”

  “Yes,” I said, closing my eyes. “Thank God for Owen.”

  But I couldn’t help wondering why I remembered things a little differently than how Owen had described them.

  Did it matter? Owen had saved my life.

  Or had he saved his own?

  Chapter 27

  Brady wanted me to go to the hospital to get checked out, but I refused, especially after the EMTs said it didn’t look like I had any broken bones or other injuries. Hospitals had always freaked me out, and I already felt traumatized. My fragile psyche couldn’t take it.

  So I gave my statement to Owen in the back of the ambulance. Leaving out any mention of the gold, I told him that Lopez had come to the apartment looking for something. I’d pretended to know what that something was—assuming he would kill me otherwise—and told him it was in my purse in the catering van in the hopes that Brady or someone would catch him trying to break in. But he had come back angrier than ever and decided to beat it out of me. I’d escaped from him while he was trying to stuff me into the trunk of his car.

  Owen studied me after I finished giving my statement. “So you have no idea what Lopez was after?”

  I gave him a long look, feeling nervous over the way he was watching me. I hadn’t contradicted the statement he’d made to Brady about Geraldo Lopez. Did he know I’d picked up on his lie, or did he think I’d repressed the memory out of terror?

  I shook my head. “No. Not really, but I have to wonder if it had something to do with the missing million dollars.”

  Brady was sitting on the gurney next to mine and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Maybe it was a safety deposit key.”

  “Maybe,” Owen replied, but his tone suggested he didn’t believe it. Did he know what Dr. Lopez was really looking for? Was that why he’d shot him?

  Owen hopped out of the back of the ambulance and went to talk to a uniformed officer, leaving Brady and me alone.

  Brady was quiet for a moment before he placed his hand over mine. “We might never know what he was after, Maggie. All the key players are dead. We’re not sure what really happened with the five of them, but we do know that your father was murdered. And that’s what you were really after, isn’t it? Proof that your father hadn’t abandoned you?”

  I blinked back tears. “Yeah.” But now that I knew part of the story, I was greedy to know it all.

  “Maybe Sydney Crowley can help us piece it all together,” Brady said, but I doubted she could. She’d already told them everything she knew.

  Brady lowered his face to look at me, and the compassion and worry in his warm brown eyes stole my breath. “You can’t stay here tonight, so where do you want to go? Do you want to go to your mother’s?”

  I didn’t trust Owen. I suspected he knew about the gold, and that he knew I knew. Just like the note.

  I’d figured out the first partial name, but what about the second? Who was “—ogers”? I was still fair game. While I hoped he would be smart enough to let things go, I couldn’t count on it. There was only one person I felt could protect me. He’d proven himself to me several times.

  “Actually . . .” I looked down at his hand still covering mine and then back up into his face. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”

  A warm smile lit up his eyes. “Of course, Maggie. You can have the guest room if you’d like.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “But you can say no . . . after this afternoon.”

  He leaned over the gurney I was sitting on and carefully wrapped an arm around my back. “We had a disagreement. It happens. It’s how you handle it afterward that makes the difference. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a moot point. I still want you to stay.”

  His words brought tears to my eyes. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  He leaned back, put a finger under my chin, and lifted my face until I was staring into his eyes. “Because you’re worth being nice to.”

  I lowered my head to his shoulder, overcome with exhaustion. “Do you know where my phone is? I need to call my mother. If she hears this from someone else . . .”

  “How about we get you settled in my car and I’ll go find it?”

  “The last place I saw it was in my kitchen. When I called you.”

  He helped me out of the ambulance, and I was surprised at how stiff and sore my body had gotten in less than an hour. Tomorrow was going to be torture.

  I sat in the passenger seat of his car and watched him head down the drive next to Miss Ava’s house. I couldn’t help wondering what she thought of all the chaos. I couldn’t imagine living in that apartment again. With any luck at all, she’d let me out of my lease. Of course, considering the chaos I’d brought to her door, she’d probably be happy to see me go.

  Then it occurred to me—how had Geraldo Lopez gotten into my apartment after I’d had the locks changed? I was even more thankful to be going home with Brady.

  He returned ten minutes later and handed me the phone. “I have to stop by the Morrissey murder scene. I left my partner there to work it alone, and I need to at least check in with her now that we know it’s not a suicide. I’ll leave you in the car, but I’ll be close enough for you to yell at me if need be. Will you feel safe enough?”

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning against the headrest and closing my eyes. “Thank you.”

  I stared at the phone in my hand, wondering how I was going to make this call. How Momma would react to the
news. But when Brady pulled into the parking lot, both catering vans were still there, which meant Momma was still there too. Calling her was the chickenshit way out. Truth be told, staying with Brady was the chickenshit way out too. I was barely stomaching one cowardly act. I couldn’t handle two.

  “My mother’s still here,” I said as Brady started to get out of the car. “I need to tell her this in person. I need to tell her that her husband didn’t leave her for another woman.” I was pretty sure that she already knew it, but surely she needed closure too.

  He looked back at me and nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No, I need to do this myself.” But as strong as I’d felt in the car, I felt vulnerable and terrified walking across the now mostly empty parking lot. I was perfectly safe. In fact, I could feel Brady’s watchful gaze on me as I walked, but my imagination ran wild at the thought of what boogeymen might be hiding in the night.

  As though reading my mind, the phone in my hand vibrated with a text and my heart leapt when I read,

  Good girls keep their mouths shut. Can you continue to be a good girl, Magnolia?

  Disappointment bore down on me. While I’d realized how unlikely it was that Geraldo Lopez was the murderer from my memories, I’d hoped it was true.

  I typed back:

  I can keep a secret.

  He didn’t answer, and I tried to get myself together before I found my mother. But then I remembered seeing Roy earlier. Had he actually been here? If so, why? Was Belinda covering for him? Or was she really clueless? What was her escape plan?

  Once again, despite how far I’d come, I had far more questions than I did answers.

  I found my mother sitting with Belinda, which meant Belinda hadn’t gone home after all. The rest of the staff was gone, including Tilly and Colt, and all the equipment was packed up.

  “Magnolia!” My mother gasped when she saw me, and Belinda’s eyes widened in fear. She probably saw my bruises and thought Roy had paid me a visit.

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to make myself sound stronger than I felt. “What are you still doing here, Momma?”

  “Someone broke into both vans, so we’re waiting for them to finish their investigation.”

  “I came back to keep your mother company,” Belinda said, patting my mother on the leg.

  “What are you doing here?” Momma asked warily. “What happened?”

  “I’m the reason you’re still here. Why the vans were broken into.”

  “You broke into the vans?” Momma asked in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just ask for the keys?”

  “I didn’t do it, but I know who did and why.”

  I grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her. “Momma, Daddy didn’t run away with Shannon Morrissey.”

  She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Magnolia, we’ve been over this—”

  “Momma. No.” I shook my head. “Steve Morrissey left a suicide note that said he’d had several people killed. Walter Frey. Christopher Merritt. And Daddy.” Sure, Brady had told me not to share the information, but now we knew it wasn’t true anyway.

  Belinda gasped and grabbed Momma’s hand.

  My mother’s face paled. “What?”

  I put my hand over Momma’s and Belinda’s clasped ones. I was thankful that they didn’t shrug me off. “But the note was only partially right. Steve Morrissey didn’t kill them. A dentist named Geraldo Lopez did. He killed Mr. Morrissey and made it look like a suicide.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess so he could get away with his crime without falling under suspicion.”

  “Get away with what crime?”

  “Taking a million dollars.” I took a breath. “I don’t know what was going on, and maybe we’ll never know, but somehow Daddy, Geraldo Lopez, Walter Frey, Christopher Merritt, and Steve Morrissey were all tied up with the money. Shannon Morrissey’s sister said Shannon thought her husband was laundering money, and she and Daddy were about to turn them in. She thought Steve killed them to keep them quiet.”

  “And the others?”

  “I don’t know about Mr. Merritt, but Dr. Lopez told me that Walter Frey was coming to see me to give me proof of what happened. I suspect Dr. Lopez killed him for obvious reasons.”

  “So your father was a criminal,” she said in a flat voice. “That’s worse than an adulterer.”

  “No, Lila,” Belinda said in a soothing tone.

  “Not necessarily, Momma. He was helping to turn Mr. Morrissey in. But at least we know the partial truth.”

  “Do we?” she asked, sounding weary.

  “No. I guess we don’t.”

  Momma’s eyes narrowed. “Dentist. The one you went to see yesterday?”

  I hesitated. “Yes. He paid me a visit tonight, but the police arrived just in time. I’m fine.”

  Momma stood. She was thinner than I’d ever seen her, and the lighting gave her a sickly pallor. “Belinda, can you take me home?”

  “Of course, Lila.”

  Part of me wanted to go home with her and take care of her. I’d risked my life to prove my father wasn’t an adulterer, but Momma was right. Was finding out he might have been a criminal any better? Had I risked my life and put my mother’s safety in jeopardy over nothing? And wasn’t staying with Brady putting him in danger too? The murderer who was stalking me wasn’t liable to be happy I’d allied myself with a policeman.

  I had no doubt that everyone in my life would be safer—and probably happier—without me. The selfless thing to do would be to leave—catch an early morning flight back to New York—but I couldn’t do it. And if that didn’t make me a selfish bitch, I didn’t know what did.

  “Momma,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

  To my surprise, she pulled me into a tight hug and clung to me for several seconds. “I made my peace with your father’s absence years ago. You’re the one still struggling, Magnolia. I hope you find your peace too.” She kissed my cheek, and I watched Belinda lead her away.

  “You okay?” Brady asked from behind me.

  I turned to face him. “I can go stay with my mother tonight if it’s more convenient for you.”

  “No, you scared the shit out of me tonight. I’d feel better if you stayed with me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m done here. So let’s go.”

  We drove to his place in silence, and I didn’t comment on the nice condo building he lived in. We rode the elevator to the third floor, and he led me down a hallway to a door marked 307. After he’d unlocked the door and pushed it open, I took in the well-decorated apartment. It looked like a guy’s place—big-screen TV and leather furniture, a small kitchen with dark cabinets and black granite counters.

  “Make yourself at home, Maggie,” he said. “Unlike your place, there’s food in the fridge.”

  I smiled and that seemed to make him happy.

  “I know you don’t have any clothes, but I can give you a T-shirt to sleep in. We’ll pick up some of your things tomorrow if you want to stay for a while.”

  “Thanks.” I wasn’t sure how long I’d want to stay. Surely Owen wouldn’t hurt me if I was staying with his best friend.

  “Do you want to take a shower?”

  I thought about teasing him, but I didn’t have the energy. “No. I just want to go to bed. But do you have any ibuprofen?”

  Worry covered his face. “Have you changed your mind about going to the hospital?”

  “No. Just preventative.”

  He got me a glass of water and two pills, along with a T-shirt. He even dug up an unopened toothbrush so I could brush my teeth. When I was finished in the bathroom, he was standing in the hallway, pacing.

  “Why do you look so nervous?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “I still think you should go to the hospital.”

  I shook my head. “I got mugged once, and it was worse than this. I didn’t go then. I’m fine.”

  He started to say something, but then stopped himself. “L
et’s get you into bed.” He started to lead me to a room, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Brady.”

  He stopped and looked down at me with such compassion and concern it brought tears to my eyes. No man had ever looked at me like that before. Which made what I was about to ask him equally difficult and easy.

  “I’m not ready to start a relationship with you yet, so I have no right to ask this.”

  “Ask, Maggie. I want you to ask.”

  “I don’t want to be alone. Can I sleep with you? Not with you but—”

  “Yes. Of course.” He led me to his room and pulled back the covers to his made bed. I climbed in and tucked my phone under my pillow. I didn’t want Brady to get a look at any incoming texts before I did.

  He got ready for bed and crawled in next to me, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  “Sexy,” I teased, already half-asleep.

  I was lying on my side and he spooned behind me, carefully draping his arm against my side. “I usually sleep in the buff,” he whispered in my ear. “But maybe you can find that out later for yourself.”

  Soon his breathing leveled off, and even though I’d been sleepy before, his comment about our possible future made me anxious. Did I dare take a chance with him?

  My phone buzzed with a text, and I pulled it out from under the pillow, wondering if Belinda had checked in with a report about taking my mother home. But it was from Colt, and if I had hoped that learning the truth about my father’s disappearance would bring me peace, his text proved otherwise.

  I heard back from my friend. The serial numbers are all clear with the exception of three bars. All three were made and reported stolen ten years ago.

  Four years after my father had disappeared.

  Call Back

  (Magnolia Steele Mystery #3)

  February 28, 2017

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