She laughed. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”
“Maybe you fit into the Steele family better than I thought.”
Her brow furrowed. “Magnolia, it makes me sick to hear you talk badly of yourself. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”
Tears filled my eyes. “And I wish the same for you.”
Her mouth twitched and her eyes turned glassy. “Maybe I’ve started looking in that mirror. I left Roy.”
I reached for her hand and squeezed. While my feelings for my brother were more complicated than ever, Roy had hurt Belinda. Maybe years of therapy would help him, but she didn’t need to take any part in that after the way he’d treated her. “I’m proud of you.”
“Are you?” she asked.
“Yeah. Very.” I paused. “How did Roy . . . what made him . . .”
“Colt found me behind my shop and started to call the police, but I stopped him. We realized the killer had taken you, so he called your father and convinced him to let Colt meet him at the house to help save you. I called Roy and told him the killer had you, and he picked me up and took me out there. I called the police on the way.”
“Roy came to save me?”
She frowned. “In all honesty, he may have partially been there to get revenge against your father.”
I had no doubt about that, but I liked to think that in the end he’d wanted to save me too.
“Roy’s . . .” Belinda trailed off and then started again, more conviction in her voice. “Roy realizes he needs help. He’s checking into a center next week to help him work through his demons.”
“I’m surprised he’s self-aware enough to figure that out.”
“Let’s just say two Franklin police detectives helped him figure it out.”
I suspected that meant Brady and Owen. I frowned. “It will only work if he wants it to.”
“I think he does,” she said. “He’s known he hasn’t been right for several years, but sometimes it’s hard to admit that you need help.”
I gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. I know. So what will you do?”
“I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking. I love my job and my clients. I’ll probably sell the house. Roy doesn’t want it, and there are too many unhappy memories there. Owen, that friend of Brady’s, says there are openings at his apartment complex. I’m thinking about looking there. What about you?” she asked. “Are you going to leave now that you have all of this wrapped up?”
I raked my teeth over my bottom lip. “No. Maybe eventually, but not any time soon.” I pressed my lips together into a tight smile. “There would be a lot for me to leave behind.”
“Including a certain guy named Colt?”
“I love him, Belinda. I know it’s awkward because of Delilah.”
“I want you to be happy, Magnolia. You’re the one who’s stuck with me, through better or worse. We might be sisters because of our last name and not blood, but in the end, it’s love and loyalty that matter the most.”
I nodded. “You’re right. But he’s only one of my reasons for wanting to stay. I couldn’t bear to leave you or Tilly. We need each other more than ever.” My eyelids felt heavy, and I had to put effort into keeping them open. “Why am I so tired?”
“Part of it is your pain medication, but part of it is your brain trying to heal,” she said. “I was upset that you’ve slept for so long, but they said they weren’t worried yet.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“A day and a half.”
The door opened and Brady poked his head inside the door. “The nurse said you’d woken up. Can I come in for a few minutes?”
“Yeah.”
He moved to the side of the bed and rested his hand on the side rail. “Magnolia. I . . . Thank God you’re okay.”
“I’m sure my father told you to make sure I remained that way,” I said in an icy tone.
His eyes widened, and Belinda looked shocked.
“Belinda?” I asked, turning to face her. “Can you give me a few minutes with Brady?”
“Yeah . . .” She gave him a hard stare before she left.
When the door closed, Brady asked, “So your father told you?”
“When did he contact you?” I asked.
“First, in my defense, I didn’t know I was helping him.”
I believed that. “Go on.”
“It was after Walter Frey’s murder. He contacted me with an anonymous tip. He told me that Lopez was involved, but you’d already figured that out. He contacted me again, after Lopez’s death, and told me that you were still in danger. I already knew that too, but he seemed informed, so I listened. After your mother died, he told me that your brother and sister-in-law were out to hurt you. I wanted you to be safe, so I lied about Belinda. He also planted some evidence against Owen making it look like he’d been on the take, and I was hesitant to trust him. The captain called him in Friday afternoon to answer questions, but he’s in the clear.”
That must have been the call Owen received while he was with me at Momma’s house. “Owen said Martinez was friends with Mahoney, the officer who arrested Colt on bogus charges. He thought Martinez might be dirty.”
His eyes clouded. “There’s nothing to prove that she is.”
“But nothing to prove that she isn’t.”
“If she is, she’s being watched very carefully,” he said, his voice tight. I wondered if he would be one of the people watching her . . . if he still had a job.
“What about the annuity money?” I asked. “What will you do with it?”
Brady shook his head in confusion. “What money?”
“You didn’t find any money?”
“No. The annuity money was there?” he asked, looking more alert.
“Maybe not. Maybe I imagined it. Or more likely my father lied.” Or someone took it. But who?
Thinking about it made me tired. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the pillows.
“I’m sorry,” Brady said. “I really was trying to help you.”
“While trying to cover your cousin’s butt.”
“Clint didn’t do it. The reason he had info about the murders is because Tripp made sure to give him enough clues to get him searching.”
“He did that to make Clint look suspicious?” I asked.
“And it worked.”
“And they believe that Tripp killed all of those women?”
“He had plenty of evidence of his own in the safe in his house.”
“What about his alibi for Tiffany’s murder? The radio show interview?”
“It’s usually live, but it turns out that Tripp’s had been recorded. The detectives failed to ask.”
I cringed. Would all of this have been avoided if they had? “Is Colt in any kind of trouble?”
Brady looked confused. “Why would he be?”
“For saving me in the basement.”
“No,” Brady said in a flat tone. “He did it to save you.” He paused. “The gun your father used to shoot Colt is the same gun that killed Rowena Rogers and her hired hand. I hear you were the one to shoot your father.”
“Roy was trying to stop him from taking me. He was about to shoot Roy too.”
“You’re not in any trouble,” Brady said, but a bit of pride filled his eyes. “I guess that range practice paid off. You shot your father straight through the heart.”
Talk about poetic justice. I closed my eyes. “Too many deaths.”
Brady took my hand and squeezed. “It’s all over now. You solved decades of crimes in only four weeks. If you ever want to be a detective . . .”
I laughed—then cringed from the wave of pain. It took several shallow breaths to ride through it.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said. “Bill James was murdered.”
“Probably by my father.”
“We’re waiting on ballistics to see if the same gun was used, but it’s a good guess. He was found in the basement of a bu
rnt-out house in Leiper’s Fork. Somebody killed him and dumped his body there a couple of days ago.”
The bizarre part is the basement was partially dug up and there was a body of a woman buried underneath.
“Probably his first wife.” So Momma had been right all along.
Bill James hadn’t run off after Rowena was killed—Daddy probably kidnapped him and forced him to cash in the annuity. Even if Daddy’s name had been on it, he needed Bill to sign his name, and the fact that Momma had declared Daddy dead meant his signature meant nothing.
“Did Owen get his job back?” I asked.
“He’s decided to get some other job. Maybe security. He says if you’re ever looking for a bodyguard . . .” He grinned.
I grinned too.
“Maggie,” he said. “Maria needs to take your statement about what happened at some point. I can sit with you if you’d like.”
I tried not to panic. “Why? Does she think I did something wrong?”
“Oh, no. The opposite. But she’ll ask some difficult questions—details about what happened, and I suspect you won’t want someone close to you to hear that.”
“Then I’m not sure you should hear it either,” I said.
He stared at me in surprise.
“I’m with Colt,” I said, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. “I’m in love with him. But you and I were friends before we got romantically involved. I’d like to stay friends.”
“And how will Colt feel about that?”
“It’s my decision, and he trusts me.”
He nodded. “Okay.” His eyes shuttered and his cop face was back. “I can’t help but feel that if I had handled things differently, Tripp wouldn’t have . . .”
“Kidnapped me? Tortured me? The only way to have stopped him would have been to kill him or arrest him. He was going to do it or die trying.”
“He cut you sixteen times, Maggie. Some of them were long and deep. You’re going to scar.”
“At least I’m alive.”
“You’re going to need therapy. You can’t go through something like that and be just fine. Promise me you’ll see someone. I know a few therapists who work with some of the domestic abuse cases I’ve handled. I can get you some names.”
I almost told him I didn’t need therapy, but then I thought about the countless nightmares I’d suffered before this happened. “I will.”
“Good. I’ll text you the contact info.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m here if you need me, Maggie. For anything.” With that, he turned around and walked away.
The nurse came in to check on me and then upped my pain medication when my pain became more intense. Blissful sleep took over.
* * *
I was dreaming. Colt and I lay on a blanket in Pinkerton Park, staring up at the clouds, playing a game of naming the shapes of passing clouds. He slipped his hand into mine and whispered into my ear, “I love you, Mags.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I realized I was only partially dreaming.
Colt stood next to my bed, holding my hand. He grinned. “Sleeping Beauty awakens.”
“Should you be out of bed?”
“I’m supposed to walk. And once they told me I could walk, there was only one place I wanted to go. This is actually the third time I’ve been here. I was starting to get worried.”
“You got worried? You scared me to death,” I said. “You got shot. Because of me.”
“At least it’s a better reason than some people get shot for. Like arguing over a piece of fried chicken, or because you cut someone off in traffic.”
He was trying to play off what he’d done. Not that I was surprised. “Thank you for saving me from Tripp.”
His eyes darkened. “You should have never gotten taken by him in the first place. I should have been in there with you. I should never have let you go into Belinda’s office alone.”
“He would have found a way to snatch me and maybe hurt you in the process,” I said. “No matter how careful we were. Besides, we thought Clint Duncan was the murderer. No one suspected Tripp Tucker.”
“Brady didn’t know anything about the annuity money. Do you know what happened to it?”
“Don’t the police have it?”
“Please tell me you didn’t hide it and plan to give it to me later.”
His jaw tightened. “I want nothing to do with that money, and even if I did, I wasn’t in any position to get up and get it. I couldn’t even get the gun behind me and shoot the damn bastard. I couldn’t save you.” The bitterness in his eyes hinted that this would haunt him for some time.
“Then what happened to it? Did he really have it?”
“It was there in the bag when I showed up. And I have no idea who could have taken it. Roy? He’s been after it all along.”
“Maybe.” Did it matter? Like Colt, I wanted nothing to do with it.
We were silent for a moment, and Colt’s face paled. “What he did to you, Mags. Jesus . . . I nearly lost my shit when I saw you.”
Images of the new scenes from that basement flooded my head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it.” I took a breath. “I’m going to get therapy. Brady suggested it, and I think he’s right. I’m sure I needed help before this attack. I can’t sleep through the night without having nightmares, and it was starting to get worse. I can’t keep doing that to me or you, and I want to make me better.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’d do anything for you, Maggie.”
“I think you proved that when you took a bullet trying to protect me.”
“I love you, Magnolia Mae Steele. I’d do anything to protect you,” he said. Then his eyes lit up. “I’m pretty sure you told me you loved me when you thought you were dying.”
“Do deathbed professions of love count?” I teased.
“I’ll take a regular hospital bed confession too.”
I stared up into his eyes, wondering how I’d gotten so lucky. “I love you, Colt. I want to sell Momma’s house and get another one. With you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Maybe you should take some time to think about it.”
“Do you need to think about it?”
“No! It’s just—”
“Life is short. I don’t want to waste any of it.” A mischievous grin lit up his face, and I tried not to laugh. “If you say YOLO, I swear to God I’m gonna kick you out that door.”
Happiness filled his eyes. “I love you too.”
“You were totally going to say it, weren’t you?”
“I plead the Fifth.” His smile softened. “Are you sure, Mags?” he asked again. “And not about kicking me out if I said YOLO. I know you would have.” He turned serious. “You just had this near-death experience, so maybe you need to take some time to think it through. And yeah, I had one too, but I’d already figured out that I loved you and didn’t want to live without you before I almost died. Maybe you need time to catch up.”
“I’d figured it out before then too,” I said. “I was just too stubborn to admit it.”
His thumb brushed the back of my hand. “So we’ve figured out what we’re going to do about living together. What about your job? Don’t you want to go back to acting?”
“Maybe someday. For now, I want to work with Tilly in the catering kitchen. And if you’re willing, I’d like to sing with you. I think that will satisfy my need to perform. Maybe Maggie and Colt can play some gigs in Nashville. The manager at the Kincaid said he’d invite us back.”
He grinned. “I’d like that too.”
“And maybe if we got offered a record deal down the road . . . maybe I’d be more open to considering it. After everything dies down.”
“Are you serious?” he asked, his excitement palpable. Then he frowned. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into it because of me, Mags. All I want is you. Singing with you is icing on the cake. It doesn’t matter where. It can be on our back porch for all I care.”
A thought filled my head, ma
king me hopeful for the future. “Someday we’ll sing to our kids,” I said softly. “And our grandkids.”
His voice lowered. “Yeah. I want to spend forever with you.”
Tears filled my eyes when I thought about how close I’d come to losing him. “Me too.”
Then he sat on the edge of my bed and sang me a love song he’d written for me.
The song that would become our first hit single on the country charts. Which was appropriate, since it was the song that started our happily ever after.
* * *
Subscribe to the Denise Grover Swank’s newsletter and keep up with her newest releases, sales, and bonus content.
Also by Denise Grover Swank
Rose And Neely Kate reading order:
FAMILY JEWELS
TRAILER TRASH
FOR THE BIRDS
IN HIGH COTTON
* * *
Rose Gardner Investigations
FAMILY JEWELS
FOR THE BIRDS
* * *
Neely Kate Mystery
TRAILER TRASH
IN HIGH COTTON
(February 13, 2018)
* * *
Magnolia Steele Mystery
(Series complete)
Center Stage
Act Two
Call Back
Curtain Call
* * *
Darling Investigations
(Humorous mystery romance)
DEADLY SUMMER
January 2018
* * *
Rose Gardner Mysteries
Novellas are bonus material
TWENTY-EIGHT AND A HALF WISHES
TWENTY-NINE AND A HALF REASONS
THIRTY AND A HALF EXCUSES
FALLING TO PIECES (novella)
THIRTY-ONE AND A HALF REGRETS
THIRTY-TWO AND A HALF COMPLICATIONS
PICKING UP THE PIECES (novella)
THIRTY-THREE AND A HALF SHENANIGANS
ROSE AND HELENA SAVE CHRISTMAS (novella)
RIPPLE OF SECRETS (novella)
Curtain Call: Magnolia Steele Mystery #4 Page 31