Madison stared at her grandmother in fascination. “You must be joking.”
“The woman is full of hot air and bad manners. And if she thinks she’s going to pick on someone in my family, she’s going to have to go through me to do it.”
With a deep sigh, Madison stared up at the ceiling. She had done it again: once more, she officially qualified as pathetic. She was thirty-nine years old and her eighty-year-old grandmother was still fighting her battles for her.
Brushing that subject away, Granny Bert changed topics. “Now. Tell me what you meant, blabbering on about bracelets and Christmas presents and kissing Brash deCordova.”
Using her thickened tongue to her advantage, Madison feigned innocence. “Wike ooo said. Stwong pain medicine.”
***
Madison could laze around for only so long. Despite her aching muscles, turned ankle, and all her scrapes and bruises, she felt guilty about staying in bed all morning. Soon she was up and stepping from a hot, steamy shower, ready to do something. She started by preparing beef stew for supper, one of Blake’s favorites; it should be nice and thick by suppertime.
She was also feeling guilty about avoiding Brash’s phone calls. The truth was, she was worried about him and wanted to know how he was fairing. But she was too confused—and still just a little too hurt and angry—to take his calls right now. She needed to sort through her feelings before she talked to him.
The bracelet he had given to Margaret Chatham bothered her more than she cared to admit. She could rant and rave all she wanted about how Brash had led her on and lied to her. She could make this into all about him and his two-timing ways. But deep down, she knew why it bothered her so much; she was beginning to truly care about Brash deCordova. Somewhere along the way, her schoolgirl crush had turned into something deeper, something based on respect and admiration, not just hormones and fantasies.
Okay, so there’s still some of that thrown into the mix, she admitted to herself. She chopped a carrot with more gusto than required. She thought about the jock he had been, and the man he had become. He was still self-assured, still a born leader full of confidence and bravado, but the arrogant edge was gone now. From what she could tell, he was a good lawman, fair and just, and dedicated to his job and community. He adored his daughter and was a good father to her. He worked with the youth at church and rumor had it he conducted two very popular free football camps each summer, one at Texas A&M, the other at Baylor. In addition to being civic minded, charitable—his good traits were numerous, so she skipped to the most obvious—handsome and devilishly sexy, he was so downright likable. The plain truth was, Madison liked him as a person; their personalities clicked. She enjoyed talking to him and spending time with him as a friend. And if that friendship deepened into something more, she was okay with that.
Madison frowned in the middle of peeling an onion. Where did that come from? I am NOT ready for a relationship with Brash or anyone else. Men are too much trouble. I don’t have time to be falling in love right now, not when I’m trying to pull my life back together.
The fact that the words ‘falling in love’ even entered her mind scared her silly. That wasn’t what she was doing! When and if she ever did give her heart away again, it would be to someone who was worthy, someone who loved her the way Curtis loved George Gail, someone fully dedicated to her, to them as a couple. Not someone like Gray, who betrayed her in the worst way possible. And not to someone who had given a piece of jewelry to another woman less than two months ago!
The onions were strong enough to make her eyes water. That had to be the explanation for the sudden tears clouding her vision. Turning on her sauté skillet, Madison concluded that all this had been Brash’s fault, after all. He was the one to lead her on with the promise of a kiss. He was the one who called for her to be by his side as he lay on the gurney. He was the one who made her think of crazy things like the future and growing old together. He was the one to talk about music in the heart and dances and that off-handed remark about a ‘few’ dates with Margaret Chatham. Not once had he mentioned those dates were recent! Not once had he mentioned Christmas presents!
Working herself into a frenzy—it was easier to blame Brash, than to admit the possible truth of caring too much about him already—Madison cranked up the heat on the burner. The skillet was sizzling when she dropped the onions in, and it gave her preserve pleasure to watch the edges curl and char. If only some two-timing police chief would curl up and wither that way. She pushed the vegetable around in the skillet, watching as the thin strips became translucent. Too bad men weren’t this easy to see through! She tossed in the stew meat, searing the edges the way she would like to sear a certain someone’s lying butt. For good measure, she turned down the heat and smothered the skillet with a lid.
“See how you like that, you too-sexy, two-timing, two-bit lawman!” she muttered.
It was still early in the afternoon, but Madison decided to cook with wine. Pouring herself a glass, she thought she might even add some to the food.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Still restless, after supper Madison went out for a while. The fact that it was Friday night, less than one week after Valentines, and that she was spending it alone did not escape her attention.
She called Genesis, the one person guaranteed to understand her mood and cheer her up.
Genny answered her call with a bright, “Whatcha doin’, girlfriend?”
“Oh, just driving around thinking.”
“Uh-oh, sounds dangerous. What’s wrong?”
With Genny, there was no need to pretend. She went to the root of the problem. “Why didn’t you tell me that Brash and Margaret Chatham were dating?”
“Because I didn’t know they were. Are you sure?”
“The bracelet on her wrist—her slim, dainty, nicely tanned wrist, as opposed to my big, bony, lily white wrist—says they were involved as recently as Christmas. Which, I might point out, was only eight weeks ago.”
“About the time you came back to town, and several weeks before you ran into him again.”
“Stop clouding the issue with facts,” Madison grumbled.
“Have you asked him about it?”
“No! I’m avoiding his calls, even though I’m secretly dying to know how he’s doing. Have you heard anything?”
Genesis laughed. “Oh, yes, everything from him being in a coma to how he single-handedly pushed a falling beam off his own neck and pulled you to safety, right before the ceiling crashed down and nearly killed you both.”
“Funny, that’s not the way I remember it happening.”
“No, but the rumor mill makes it so much more interesting!”
“Speaking of rumors… guess what Miss Sybille told me when I made a bladder-pad run for her today.”
“The new brand leaks?” Genny guessed. “I don’t know, what?”
“Two things, actually. Well, three, but you probably don’t care that Leroy Huddleston had to get quadruple bi-focals. She told me that John-Paul Noble was talking about moving into Caress’s house on a semi-permanent basis. Something about he helped her with the down payment and therefore had a quarter interest in the mortgage. Speculation is he wants it as a love-nest, one that Carlina Antoine won’t know about it. Apparently they started up hot and heavy while they were making that last movie together.”
“Hmm, haven’t heard that one yet.”
“The next one is even better. Guess who is supposedly in love?”
“Barry Redmond and Angie Jones?”
“What? I thought he was married.”
“Technically, yes, but you should see what I do. People forget that when they play footsie under the table—particularly when those feet wander to other places a little further north—that they are not necessarily hidden from view. I got an eyeful standing at the counter the other day.”
“Eeww.” Madison shuddered in revulsion. “But, no, that little disgusting tidbit is your secret for now. Miss Sybille was telling me a
bout Cutter Montgomery, and how apparently he has been struck down by Cupid’s arrow.”
“Cutter’s in love?” Genny snorted skeptically. “I sincerely doubt it, but who’s the lucky lady?”
“That’s the thing. No one can remember seeing him dance but with a handful of women at the Mixer, that handful being Shilo Dawne, old Mrs. Cravey who has to be close to eighty by now, little Tami Sue Hadley who’s closer to five, Callie Beth Irwin, his own sister-in-law, and you.”
“Who’s to say it happened at the dance?”
“According to Miss Sybille, Cutter himself. Wanda Shanks told Miss Sybille that Howard Evans saw him on Sunday morning and said Cutter still had stars in his eyes. Mr. Evans asked him if had a good time at the dance Saturday night and finally found himself a girl, and Cutter said he not only found a girl, he found the woman of his dreams. According to Miss Wanda, Mr. Evans said he had the look of a man in love, goofy grin and all.”
“That’s a lot of she said/he said/she said. I wouldn’t hold my breath on him finally choosing between Shilo Dawne and Callie Beth.”
Even though her friend could not see her, Madison waggled her eyebrows mischievously. “Maybe it’s neither one of them, ever think of that?”
“No.”
“So have you seen him since the dance?” Madison teased. She noticed her friend’s answer was short and curt.
“Of course. He eats in here every day.”
“Has he mentioned the dance to you? And the way his—um, how did you put it?—how his equipment responded?”
“I haven’t really talked to him much,” Genesis admitted. “I’ve let Shilo Dawne wait on him. I don’t think her feet have hit the ground since she danced with him!”
“You’ve been avoiding him!” Madison said in shock.
“Maybe a little. I don’t want things to be awkward between us. It was just a dance, no big deal.” She fluttered her hands, something Madison could not see but was certain of. “And probably just a silly notion on my part. If I believed the rumors about him falling in love—which I don’t—my money would be on Shilo Dawne.”
“Don’t think I don’t notice how you’re changing the subject.”
“Okay, so I’ll change it again. I had a phone call tonight. James Callaway called and asked me out.”
“That cute professor who teaches dual credit classes at the high school? Yummy. What did you say?”
“I hedged. I’m not sure I want to go out with him.”
“Why not? You said he has a good sense of humor. And in spite of the crazy ties he wears, he’s very nice looking.”
“I’m just not looking for romance right now. There’s too much going on in my life to muddle things up with a man thrown into the mix.”
“I understand completely. But should I point out that you’ve had that same excuse for about ten years now? In fact, I can’t even remember the last boyfriend you had.” Madison frowned, trying to recall a name or face. She was coming up with a big blank, because her friend never dated.
“There haven’t been many,” Genesis confessed.
“Maybe this question is a little overdue, like by about twenty years, but you’re not- you’re not still in love with Tommy, are you?”
“No, of course not. He was my first love, but hardly my soulmate. I gave up dreams of a future with Tommy, long before he was killed in that wreck. The minute our twelve-hour marriage was annulled, I knew it was over between us. I have fond memories of him, but I’m definitely not still in love with him.”
“Good. Because you are too young and beautiful to be in love with a ghost. And too vivacious to be an old maid!”
Genesis laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll meet my Prince Charming one of these days.”
“Then you’d better start kissing some toads.”
“Speaking of toads… There were two of them in here today, warts and all. Darla Mullins and her dear sister Myrna graced us with their presence for lunch.”
“Ooh, lucky you. I wonder if I’ll even have a job come Monday morning.”
“Oh, yes, you can bet on it. I overheard Darla plotting her evil scheme to make you carry every piece of equipment she owns out to the nether regions of Allen Wynn’s place.”
Madison sniffed a few times. “I think I may feel a head cold coming on.”
Again Genny laughed. “Good luck with that one. At least you seem to be in better spirits now.”
“Talking to you always does that for me.”
“That’s what best friends are for!”
Madison drove aimlessly for another ten minutes. When her rambling drive took her down Caress’s street, she decided to get in a little reconnaissance on Donny Howell. She parked in the same spot as before, where she had a view of both houses. It didn’t hurt that if John-Paul Noble happened to stroll past the window, she might get a glimpse of the handsome actor….
Donny Howell had company. Two burly men sat with him in the living room, drinking beer and laughing. At some point, they all trailed out of the room and she lost sight of them. A few minutes later, a light appeared at the back of the house and, if she used the long-range lens on her camera, she could get glimpses of them throwing darts. She snapped off a few pictures, capturing the wince on Donny’s face when he twisted and hurt his back. After that, he sat on the sidelines, cheering his buddies on.
In Madison’s opinion, the man’s insurance claim was legitimate.
With the camera still up to her eyes, Madison panned over toward Caress’s house. Lights shone from numerous windows and there were two extra vehicles under the carport, suggesting John-Paul was still there. As usual, most of the blinds were open.
From where she sat, she had a clear view into the kitchen. With the curtains wide open, it really wasn’t peeping, was it? Anyone could see inside, with or without a camera.
Deciding the camera might be a little much, she began to lower it when motion inside caught her eye. Surely one little magnified peek couldn’t hurt.
Was that John-Paul? A man had his back to the granite counter. No, the hair was too blond, the build too slight to be the famed actor. Was that… yes, that was Derron. He and his mother were probably there visiting, keeping John-Paul company in the lonesome house.
Like the night she had witnessed Caress’s attack, Madison spoke aloud, keeping a running monologue going. She was almost as nervous now as she was then, probably because her conscience was eating at her. That night, she had been working; tonight, she was merely being nosy.
“Shame on you, Derron, jumping up on the counter like that,” she mumbled to herself. “Granny Bert would have a conniption fit if one of the kids did that at our house. Come to think of it, I’m surprised Darla isn’t having a cow right about now. Such behavior isn’t proper and dignified, after all.” She scrunched her face up and mimicked her temporary boss’s superior tone. “What on earth is Derron doing? It looks like he’s pulling his shirt off… Hel-lo!”
As Derron whipped off his pullover and tossed it aside, Madison quickly exchanged her camera for her binoculars. They provided more magnified details.
“Why Derron, Derron, Derron. Who knew what you were hiding under those preppy clothes you wear?” Her co-worker’s back was finely sculpted with muscles. Muscles that rippled with each move of his arms, especially when they reached forward and his fingers wiggled in a ‘come hither’ gesture.
“Wait a minute,” Madison muttered, not understanding the scene before her. “What is he doing? Why is John-Paul… what is he doing? Is he…. Oh. My. God. He’s nibbling Derron’s neck!”
She dropped the binoculars as surely as if they were on fire. Slapping her fingers to her face, she tried to stop the shocked cry that burst from her lips. It was no use. The sound came out hoarse and troubled.
It was like watching a train wreck. In spite of herself, Madison lifted the binoculars back to her face.
Yep. They were doing what she thought they were doing. Derron was in the process of peeling the shirt off John-Paul’s musc
ular shoulders. John-Paul was working the younger man’s belt loose.
Madison was as hip as the next person. She knew Derron was gay and was already quite fond of the man. She had other friends who were attracted to the same sex, and it had never bothered her before.
But John-Paul Noble? The idea was absurd. The man was a legend, a playboy of the highest order. A man-ho, they said. He had romanced women of all ages, all over the world, from Carlina Antoine and Hilary Hyatt to Caress Ellingsworth and, rumors had it, half the women in Hollywood. Had that been all they were… rumors?
Too stunned to move, Madison sat in her car, trying to make sense of what she had just seen.
She did not even flinch when the passenger door opened and Brash slid into the car seat beside side.
“Maddy?” he asked, catching the look on her face.
“Huh?” She slowly pulled out of her stupor. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. What on earth are you doing here? And don’t give me that song and dance about star gazing again,” he warned. “Your star attraction is dead, after all.”
“No, I-I’m on a job.”
“A job? You’re not playing junior detective again, are you?”
“And what if I am?” she snapped. “I can take on whichever clients I see fit. But for your information, this is a legitimate job, sanctioned by an actual private detective. He hired me to gather information for him.”
“So Archer took my advice and called you, did he?” To her surprise, Brash looked pleased.
“Huh? How did you-?”
“Who do you think gave him your number?”
“You?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“But you hate it when I play junior detective!”
When the Stars Fall (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 2) Page 20