If the cow jumped again…
Squealing and yelping with each blow, each angry snort, each bellow of rage, Madison sped up. When her foot slipped and contacted with another cow in the alley, she used its head to push off. The startled cow buckled and turned, causing new confusion in the alley, but Madison didn’t care. The added momentum propelled her forward and just beyond the cross fence between the two pens. As she sailed over the rails and into the empty pen, she glanced to the ground below. Where had Curtis gone? The last she saw him, he was slumped along this fence, directly in the path of the crazed cow.
His voice came from the back of the empty pen. “Hurry, girl. Back here!”
Maddy jumped from the fence, her feet unsteady as she landed in the uneven clumps of dried mud. She ran toward his voice, even as the cow tracked her path. “That-That cow is insane!” she panted.
“Forget the cow.” His voice was insistent. “We gotta get out of here before she comes back.”
In all the excitement of the cows, Madison had forgotten her suspicions of George Gail. They came flooding back with a vengeance, just as a loud electrical hum filled the air, followed by a bright wash of light. The switch brought to life the bulbs on the far side of the barn and along part of the catwalk, but it was enough to cast partial light into the area where they stood.
Madison took stock of the situation around them. Her gaze went first to Curtis. He looked filthy and haggard, his handsome face pale and pinched with pain, but the only blood she saw was a smear across his arm. She peered into the adjacent pen, where the spotted cow was finally growing weary in her efforts to plunder the fence. The animal flung itself against the boards one more time, then stopped to rest, her sides heaving.
Unassured, Madison’s voice warbled. “C-Curtis?”
“We gotta go,” he said urgently. “She’s armed.”
“Wh-Who? Where are we going?”
“Over this fence, toward the loading pens. We can get out through the chutes.”
Before she could take the first step forward, a shadow fell across their path.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Oh, hell. She’s back.”
As Curtis muttered the words, Madison spun around in dread. She slowly lifted her gaze to the catwalk overhead.
Her heart sank down to her toes. Even though she half-expected to see her there, she was devastated to recognize George Gail’s broad, squatty build silhouetted against the light. The glare of light behind her hid her face in the shadows, but the coat and hat were all too familiar.
How could she have been so wrong? Was she really so terrible a judge of character? In spite of the other woman’s late night calls and her scattered-brained personality and needy whine, Madison had actually become rather fond of George Gail. It stung, knowing she had befriended a murderess!
“What do you want, woman?” Curtis snarled. “Why don’t you come down here and fight me like a real man, instead of standing up there?”
Madison’s head snapped in his direction, shocked to hear him speaking to his wife in such a manner. That day at the café, he seemed so enchanted with her.
Then again, maybe she hadn’t pulled a knife on him at that point.
“Why are you doing this?” Curtis asked the woman on the catwalk. “The least you could do is tell me why you want to kill me!”
The only answer was a menacing raised arm. The glint of steel winked in the light as she raised her weapon.
“She knows,” Madison finally told him. “She knows about you and Caress.”
“What about us?” he asked in confusion.
For the first time, George Gail spoke. Her voice was unusually low. “I know you were having an affair!”
“What in tarnation are you talking about, woman? I wasn’t having an affair with that woman!”
“We saw your text messages,” Madison told him.
“What messages?”
“The ones where you told her you wanted to see her boobs.”
“Why would I want to see her boobs—or any other part of her scrawny little body, for that matter—when I have a woman like George Gail at home?”
“Don’t you dare talk about her that way! She had gorgeous breasts! All of her was exquisite.”
Why on earth was George Gail defending the woman she had murdered? Nothing was making any sense. Madison rubbed at her forehead, trying to clear her fogged brain. Could she be sleepwalking? Was all of this a dream?
A very bad dream. As Curtis called his wife crazy once more, the shouting energized the cow. Somehow, the gate had swung closed again. The beast renewed its efforts to break free with renewed vigor.
“I wouldn’t know, you crazy woman,” Curtis insisted. “I’ve never laid eyes on any woman but my own wife.”
“We saw the texts,” Madison reminded him.
If she was talking, she couldn’t be asleep, right?
“So? I can’t text worth a darn. Fingers are too long and spindly.” He flexed the digits in question.
Madison noticed the red swatch on his shirt was growing. She also noticed the slashed fabric, reminding her of the way Caress’s clothes were similarly shredded. The same knife had done both damages, no doubt.
“You might as well know,” Madison told him. “George Gail hired me to follow you and see who you were having an affair with. I followed you to the Bumble Bee, where you met Caress. You even took her flowers.”
“That’s right,” the man nodded. He looked confused. And totally innocent, Madison noted, which also did not make sense. “I wanted to make sure she got the right kind for the party.”
“What party?” These words, barked from above them.
“The anniversary party, the one she was helping me plan. Our fortieth anniversary is coming up, and I wanted to throw George Gail a surprise party. Caress was helping me get it all organized. She had books with pictures and different ideas for me to choose from. I took her a sample of the pink begonias George Gail likes.” Curtis’s look of confusion morphed into one of disgust. “Has everyone gone plumb crazy? Why in tarnation would I cheat on a wonderful wife like George Gail? I worship the ground that woman walks on. I’d be nothing without her.”
“Then-Then she was telling the truth?” George Gail’s voice sounded strangled from the catwalk, and close to hysteria. “She wasn’t cheating on me?”
Madison’s head snapped up. This had to be a dream! Things were getting stranger by the minute!
“Cheating on you?” Madison asked. “George Gail, have you gone mad? What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Curtis demanded. “That ain’t George Gail up there.”
“Then who-?”
The voice from the catwalk was stronger this time, tighter. And, Madison realized, all too familiar. “Caress and I weren’t just best friends. We were lovers. We’ve been in a relationship for years.”
“D-Darla?” she gasped.
“Of course it’s me, you imbecile. What, do you think a woman like Caress couldn’t be involved with a woman like me?”
How could she have not recognized that snide voice? That barely controlled rage and that air of superiority? Madison felt like a fool, but at least the pieces were falling into place now.
Darla Mullins had obviously discovered the same messages as George Gail. Both women had jumped to the wrong conclusion, thanks to poor typing. Or perhaps spell-correct was the culprit; Madison knew all-too-well how messages could be distorted by that handy little feature. ‘Can’t wait to see your boobs’ should have said ‘books’. Even ‘I like pink behinds’ was probably meant to say ‘I like pink begonias’. And ‘work the ride’ was ‘worth the risk’.
Darla, with her terrible temper and her tendency toward violence, must have confronted Caress. In a fit of rage, she stabbed her lover to death.
The surveyor’s hostility toward Madison made sense now. This explained why she hired her in the first place, and why she rejected Madison’s early offer to dissolve their
contract. All those brushes of danger with Trench Coat… Madison realized Darla had the perfect opportunity for each of them. Darla knew Madison’s schedule. She had access to Caress’s car. She knew how to shut off the power at the office, and the lay of the land at the survey site.
Even Derron’s words made sense now. He was so adamant about the actress not being involved with any of the local men. What was it he had said? “There weren’t many people in The Sisters that met her… requirements. Caress wasn’t like most people around here, if you know what I mean.”
Until now, she hadn’t known what he meant. She thought he meant Caress’s celebrity status. But it made sense now. Even her relationship with John-Paul Noble made sense. They were not involved romantically; they were each other’s cover. In a professional world dependent upon appearances, neither performer could afford to have their personal lives exposed. Each made their living selling sex appeal to the opposite sex. Times were changing, but if their sexual preferences were known, particularly a few years ago, their careers would have been over.
Madison knew it was not wise to antagonize the demented woman, but she heard herself calling out the words, loud and clear. “You killed her. You killed your lover over some misspelled text message.”
She saw Darla raise her hands to her head, as if to block the words from her ears. “I didn’t know,” she moaned. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.” She kept pounding her ears, perhaps to block the deed from her mind, perhaps to block the ruckus of the mad cow below. The spotted animal reared up on her hind legs again, trying to jump the fence while making a terrible commotion. Her hooves pounded against the wood rails, her soulful cries pitched in a high keen. The tortured sound added more drama to a moment fraught with tension.
As Darla brought her hands down, Madison realized it was not a knife she held in her hands. It was a gun. And it was now pointed directly at Madison’s chest.
There was movement on the catwalk. Another trench coat rushed up from behind. Except for the brightly flowered water boots peeking from beneath the hem of one coat, the figures looked much the same.
There wasn’t even a struggle. Without pausing a beat, George Gail shoved the other woman from behind. Hard. Taken completely by surprise, Darla tumbled over the handrail and fell from the catwalk, straight atop the bellowing cow’s head.
Despite the woman’s considerable bulk, the enraged cow shook Darla Mullins as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. Stubby arms and legs flailed in all directions. As the cow tried to rid itself of the unexpected burden, it threw its full weight against the fence, head first. Darla was crushed between the cow and the fence, but her body was firmly wedged between the bovine’s horns. The cow jumped backwards and bucked, and finally Darla’s body went hurling through the air, landing with a sickening smack against the wooden fence.
All the commotion knocked the gate open once again. Seeing means of escape, the enraged cow was no longer interested in the inanimate body lying in the dirt. The beast banged through the opening, trotted several feet into the alley, and promptly stopped. Almost leisurely, the cow then ambled her way down the path toward the other cattle, showing none of her earlier signs of hostility.
“Is she-Is she... dead?” George Gail’s voice wavered from the catwalk above.
Curtis answered. “If not, she’s mighty close. Better call 9-1-1.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Darla Mullins was not dead, but she may have wished she were. The fall had broken her neck. The cow had broken most of her other bones. If she lived, she might be paralyzed. And if she somehow managed to pull through and recover, she would be going to prison.
Three people had heard her confession. Brash found the murder weapon at her home, tucked away in a drawer with Caress’s blood dried on its blade. There was enough evidence against her to put her away for life, even without factoring in her premeditated attempts to silence Madison.
Maddy could not help but feel sorry for Derron. He was devastated to learn of his mother’s horrific crime. He immediately closed Boundaries, moved out of Darla’s house, and transferred his belongings into his Aunt Myrna’s spare bedroom, at least until he could find something more suitable.
For her part, the opinionated self-proclaimed horticulture expert was oddly silent on her sister’s secret lifestyle and involvement in Caress Ellingsworth’s death. When Darla died a week later, Myrna helped Derron arrange an elaborate funeral filled with fabulous flowers, played out the part of a grieving sister whose loved one had been wrongly accused, and, as soon as the casket was closed, never spoke her name again.
Curtis Burton was crushed to know his wife suspected him of infidelity. Like Brash deCordova, the man could not bear the thought of his moral character being questioned by someone he cared about. It was a matter of integrity, as much as pride. Given his unconditional love for his wife, however, he soon forgave her. He seemed just as concerned that George Gail could ever doubt herself so much to believe she might have committed murder. He took extra efforts to convince her she was the most loving and nurturing woman he had ever known, and simply incapable of hurting another soul. He even had a logical explanation for the blood she found that night on the sheets; he had cut his hand while helping with the broken down cattle trailer. The last Madison heard, plans were underway for a huge anniversary celebration, even bigger and better than before.
Brash, however, was not as forgiving as the weathered cowman. He handled the case with utmost professionalism, called Maddy several times in those first few days to make certain she was fairing well, and made a point to speak to her when he ran into her around town. He was always polite and courteous, always the perfect gentleman. But in his brown eyes she saw the pain, the disappointment she knew she caused. Maddy hated herself for hurting him. After all, the man had all but admitted he was falling in love with her.
If she were honest with herself, she felt much the same way. But there were pieces of her past Brash did not know, pieces she was not yet ready to explain. Gray had hurt her deeply, and she wasn’t certain she was ready to give her heart—nor her trust—to another man, even the very worthy Brash deCordova.
Brash claimed he would wait for her.
On this, she had to trust him.
***
Madison was surprised when Derron showed up at her door a few days after the funeral.
“Derron, what a surprise! Please, come in. How are you?” She had been worried about her friend.
“I’m managing. Things are going well, except I have got to get out of that house!” As always, he dramatized his distress. “That woman is worse than the Dragon Lady, God bless her soul.”
“Actually, I have a number for you,” Madison announced. She rummaged around on the dining room table where her paperwork was scattered, until she found a slip of paper with a number scrawled across it. “I happen to know Wanda Shanks is considering renting out a room to help pay expenses. I put in a good word for you, just in case you decided to give her a call.”
“I could just kiss you!” Derron proclaimed. With a little laugh and a flutter of his hands, he added, “But of course I won’t. I wouldn’t mind kissing that hunk of a boyfriend of yours, but I doubt the Chief would approve. So I’ll settle for saying you are a lifesaver! Thanks, dollface.”
“Brash is not my boyfriend,” she insisted. She had barely spoken to him all week.
“Whatever. But as fascinating as your love-life is, that’s not why I came over.”
She let the sarcasm slide. “Oh?”
“I came to apply for a job.”
“A job?” Madison hooted. “With who?”
“With you, of course.”
“There is no job, Derron. In a Pinch is not hiring. In fact, we’re hardly even being hired.” She made the distinction between the words with a wrinkle of her nose.
“That’s not what I heard. I heard you have several new clients.”
“How did you hear that? I just signed two of them this morning!”
Flabbergasted, Madison just stared at him.
“Seriously, do you know anything about building a picket fence?” he asked, referring to her new contract to build a fence in Miss Sybille’s back yard.
“No, but I’m willing to learn.”
“I not only have experience, I have all the tools.”
“You?”
“My mother may not have taught me about fashion, but she made up for it by teaching me about power tools. Did you bid the fence by the job or by the hour?”
“The job.”
“I’ll save you a fortune by cutting the work time in half. Even paying my salary, you get to pocket the difference.”
“Derron-”
“Think of the possibilities. This will expand your business into the home-repair market. I’m more than just a pretty face in a snappy wardrobe; I know my way around with a hammer and a wrench.”
She had a crazy image of him in a frilly pair of overalls, armed with a decorated hammer. “I don’t know, Derron…”
“You don’t have to pay me a salary,” he said quickly, “just by the hour, and only when you need me for a job. With two of us working, you could take on twice the clients. And once your business grows and becomes more successful and you have a full employee roster, I can become your secretary.” He batted his eyelashes. “You know I have the gift, dollface. I’m a natural as a receptionist.”
Madison laughed. He had a point; she had seen him in action.
“Come on, give me a try,” he urged. “At least for the fence. If it works out the way I know that it will, you have to promise to at least consider using me on a permanent basis.” When he saw her wavering, he put his hands up to beg. “Please, please, please. I need the job, especially if I’m moving out of my aunt’s house. Come on, girlfriend, you know we work great together, and you know you could use me on some of your jobs. What have you got to lose?”
When the Stars Fall (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 2) Page 25