Just Cause

by Carolyn Arnold

  She’d just put a forkful of food into her mouth when her phone rang. She chewed and swallowed a large piece of celery. It had attempted to go down the wrong pipe and she coughed to clear it. Tears filled her eyes.

  The phone kept ringing.

  “I’m coming.”

  As if it could hear her...

  “Hello.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Cynthia?”

  “Yes, let me up.”

  Not long after, Cynthia came in and threw her arms around Madison, nearly upsetting her wine.

  “Whoa, what’s going on?”

  Cynthia’s eyes went to the glass. “Wine? Excellent, this is going to be better than I thought it would be. Pour me some?”

  Madison pulled a glass down from a cabinet and filled it halfway. “What’s wrong?”

  Cynthia blinked rapidly then drained her wine down a quarter of the way. “Why would you assume something’s wrong?” She walked to the living area. “Hey, Hershey. Hey, buddy.”

  “Cyn?”

  Cynthia raised her glass to her lips for another draw. Another quarter of the wine disappeared.

  “You came over to get drunk?”

  Cynthia laughed. “Well, no time like the present, right?” Another lift of the glass. It was only a sip this time.

  Cynthia dropped onto the sofa. Hershey padded over to her feet and soaked in the head rubbing she extended.

  Madison followed and stood in front of Cynthia, blocking her view of the television.

  “Talk to me.”

  Cynthia’s shoulders sagged. “Can’t we just watch some TV?”

  Madison turned it off. “No.”

  Her friend pouted for a split second before returning to normal. “All right then. Maybe we could go out, have a drink.”

  Madison’s eyes skipped to her glass.

  Cynthia angled it to the side.

  Seconds passed.

  “Cynthia?”

  “Lou asked me to marry him.”

  Madison was thankful she wasn’t in the middle of taking a drink, or a burgundy mist would have spewed from her mouth. “He what?”

  “He asked me to marry him. Yep.” Another quarter of Cynthia’s wine disappeared. She lifted her glass toward Madison. “I hope you have more.”

  “What did you say?” Madison felt like she had been sideswiped by a Mack truck.

  “I didn’t say—” She took another mouthful of wine.

  “Here, give that glass to me before you pass out and never get to what you said in respon—”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Cynthia’s eyes misted. “I just got up and left the restaurant, just like that. He could still be sitting there for all I know. Oh my God.” Cynthia leaned forward and Madison swooped in to take her wine glass. Cynthia rested her face in her hands and spoke from behind them. “You know I like him.”

  “Last I knew you broke up.”

  “Well, that’s what I told you.” She peeked out between two fingers. “We did for a day or something. That’s not the—oh my God. Me, married? Madison, we’re not even living together, even if we spend a lot of time at my place—I need a cigarette.” She started patting her pants pockets.

  “Not in here you don’t.”

  “Great then, we’ll go out. Drinks are on me.”

  “You can’t just run away from this.”

  “Why not? What would you do, Maddy?”

  Madison’s heart palpitated. She couldn’t very well say run when she just told her friend not to.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t let relationships escalate to that point.”

  “True. You end relationships so you don’t have to face this question.” She jabbed a finger at Madison. “You’re the smart one. Yep, you are. If only I could keep myself away from this man.”

  Madison smiled.

  “Oh no, don’t do this to me. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I’m your best friend, Cynthia. I want what’s best for you. Is Lou the best thing for you?”

  “Oh God.” She reached out to take her wine back from Madison. “I don’t know.” She put her lips to the glass.

  Madison went to take the glass again and Cynthia snarled. Madison held her hand up.

  “Do you love him?” Forming the word love made Madison’s stomach twist. She refused to let the stress of it seep in any more than that. She was ready to move past Sovereign, and Matthews could be a new adventure. She took a draw on her wine.

  “When you said yes to Sovereign, did you love him?”

  Madison dropped onto the sofa.

  “I mean it, Maddy. Did you love him?”

  “I thought I did.”

  “But you must have. You still have strong feelings for him.”

  Madison shrugged her shoulders this time. “What does any of this matter, or have to do with you guys?”

  “It has everything to do with it. I, oh, there’s not enough wine.” Cynthia rushed her hand to her left temple. “This stuff hits you fast with an empty stomach.”

  “You have been pounding it back.” Madison laughed at the scowl on Cynthia’s face. “Hey, no judgment here. I have some extra Chinese if you want.”

  “Sounds great.” Cynthia stood, wavering, and went to the kitchen counter to serve herself some food.

  Madison’s apartment was an open concept so they could still carry on a conversation and look at each other.

  “You do love him. I know that much.” It made Madison nauseous to say it. Not because she was jealous that her friend had a relationship in her life, and not because she’d be left alone when Cynthia ran off and got married. Things always changed, regardless of protestations to the contrary, but the subject just made her uncomfortable.

  “Oh, what is love anyway? I mean, really?” Cynthia stabbed a fork into the container of chicken balls and put two on her plate.

  “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  Cynthia settled back onto the couch, her plate positioned on her lap. “Am I?”

  Madison looked through her friend, her eyes not focused on her.

  “Maddy?”

  She met Cynthia’s eyes. “Why would you think I’m the right person to talk to about love?” Madison laughed. “I’m a commitment-phobe.”

  “Are you? Or do you just know what you want? You’re secure in who you are.”

  “Look who’s talking. What is this relationship doing to you?”

  “See, right there. You know what to say. I’d never let a relationship get to me like this before. I’m not thinking straight.” Cynthia stuffed some chow mein into her mouth and spoke while dabbing at the corners of her lips. “When you were going to marry Sovereign, where was your head at?”

  Madison was tired of talking about Sovereign. Maybe she’d say yes if Matthews asked her on a date.

  “I’ve lost you.” Cynthia laughed.

  “I just think relationships are complicated.”

  “That’s not an answer to my question.”

  “Fine. How did I feel?” Madison paused to give the impression she contemplated an answer. “I was insanely in love. I thought the world revolved around us and our relationship.”

  “So it was sunshine and lollipops?” Another sip of wine.

  Madison observed Cynthia’s consumption had slowed down, but all the attention being appointed to her love life had Madison reaching for a swallow of hers.

  “For a while. It was a good time in my life, I’ll admit that.”

  “You’d never get back with him?”

  “Hell no.” Madison never told Cynthia that he had recently proposed just that.

  Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t love me anymore.

  Madison emptied her glass and reached for Cynthia’s. “Want more?”
/>
  “Absolutely.”

  -

  Chapter 52

  MADISON MET UP WITH TERRY before heading to see Cynthia in the lab. It was quickly apparent she was paying for the wine from last night. Her eyes were red and accompanied by a dark and puffy underline. Mark passed her a file folder and they both turned to them in the doorway.

  “Morning,” Terry said.

  “Gawd. Already?” Cynthia lifted her glasses off and set them on the table. She ran a hand down her face. “I can barely see straight and my head is spinning. I should feel guilty for last night. Mark, Samantha, and Jennifer were here until about two in the morning. The good news is we have some results. They finished analyzing the bullets pulled from Sergey and Anatolli.”

  “You get anything from the sniper’s perch?”

  Cynthia stifled a yawn. “We found a strand of hair. Jennifer ran it and we’ve got DNA.”

  “A single hair and it could be anyone’s. What?” Terry shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just stating a fact.”

  Madison shot him a glare. “Did you get a match in the system?”

  Cynthia gave a slow head shake. “No, but when we get our suspect, we’ll be closer.”

  “It’s never that easy.” Terry slipped onto a chair beside Cynthia.

  Madison watched him settle in. “And the bullets?”

  “Hollow points like the ones pulled from Bryan Lexan. The difference being, Lexan was shot up close. The bullets were not a match to the one pulled from Douglas’ maid.”

  Madison reached for a chair now. “So, whoever shot Lexan likely shot Sergey and Anatolli?”

  “At the very least they had access to hollow-point bullets, which are available at any sports store, but I believe this is more than a coincidence.”

  “You said the maid wasn’t shot with the same type of bullet?”

  Cynthia shook her head. “First of all, the type used is a special ammunition, not run of the mill. And, as for the maid, the bullet pulled from her matches to the ravine bodies.”

  “Any confirmed IDs yet?”

  “The anthropologist is still working on the remains.”

  “Guess it was just yesterday. So, back to the bullets, the maid and ravine bodies match in type only or were they fired from the same gun?”

  “Bullet type only. Grooves and striations say we’re looking at the same type of gun, but they were fired from different weapons.”

  Mark had excused himself, in silence, with a bob of the head and a small wave.

  Cynthia made eye contact with Madison and repeated her earlier regret. “I feel so guilty leaving them here. Anyway, my team made it through what we had collected on these cases so far. Going back to Douglas’ maid.”

  “Let’s give her a name.”

  “Sonia Pike.” Cynthia smiled. “Don’t ever change.” She opened the file that Mark had given her when they came in. Her eyes read down the page.

  “Cynthia?”

  She held up a finger and kept reading. Then she extended a sheet of paper to Madison. “This isn’t a real surprise. I had Mark do some further digging.”

  Madison read the report and passed it on to Terry.

  Terry scanned it and then lowered the sheet. “One of the guys who claimed that you went into Homeland Logistics with your gun drawn. He owns the gun type responsible for the deaths of Douglas’ maid—Pike—and the ravine bodies.”

  “Yep.” Fatigue was quickly eating away at Cynthia’s best features. “Donald Barnes.”

  “We’ve got to get a warrant secured for that gun immediately,” Madison said.

  “I already took the liberty of notifying Winston.”

  “You are the best.”

  “Yeah, don’t get all worked up. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Well, don’t work too hard, you had a rough night.” Madison’s words may have come out sounding sarcastic, but that was far from her intent. She turned to Terry. “Why don’t you go on, I’ll be right there.”

  His brows pinched down. He was used to following her.

  When he was gone, Madison asked, “What happened?”

  Cynthia bit her bottom lip, tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head. “This is stupid. Guys are not supposed to get to me like this.”

  Madison touched her friend’s arm. She wanted to steamroll with a bunch of questions but knew this moment required a delicate touch. She waited it out in silence while Cynthia composed herself.

  Cynthia ran her finger under her nose and sniffed. “All right, I’m good. I’m fine.” She shook her shoulders and took a deep breath. “After your place, I went home to find Lou there. He was sitting in the hallway outside of my door with a dozen roses.”

  Listening to her friend talk about this made Madison’s heart respond—albeit involuntarily.

  “Flowers? I mean, yes, I can usually say no to them. But it was the look on his face like he’d lost the purpose of living.” Cynthia snickered. “Years ago, I would have been able to send him packing anyway.”

  “So you said yes?”

  Cynthia shook her head.

  “You said no?”

  She shook her head again. “I said I’d think it over.”

  Madison placed a hand over her mouth, briefly. Her friend was stronger than she realized. She was still in control of this relationship and its sway over her; she possessed the ability to stand back and assess.

  “How did he respond to that?”

  “I have until tomorrow night to let him know.”

  “He gave you an ultimatum and you’re all right with that?”

  Cynthia laughed. “I actually am. I mean I understand where he’s coming from. He wants a serious and committed relationship. If I’m not willing to take that step, he shouldn’t be left hanging on.”

  Madison pulled her friend in for a tight hug.

  When they parted, Madison said, “You know I’ll be there no matter what, right?”

  Cynthia touched Madison’s cheek. “I do.”

  Both of them started laughing at the irony of her words.

  “See, it wasn’t that hard,” Madison teased, but by the time she reached the door, her face was straight lines and determination.

  -

  Chapter 53

  THE WARRANT CAME THROUGH FOR Barnes’s gun. She and Terry were en route to retrieve it, and Barnes for questioning. They had toyed with the idea of having SWAT there when they served the warrant but decided it should be safe enough for them to handle this one. They really didn’t figure Barnes for the assassin as there was no history on him to indicate he had sniper training.

  “All right, so Barnes looks good for the ravine bodies, or possibly Douglas’s maid, Sonia Pike, but we still have one guy out there who killed Sergey, Anatolli, and Lexan.” Madison ruminated over the evidence. “I’d even wager that he changed his MO and stabbed Douglas’s lover, Lillian Norton. We’re looking for a trained professional.”

  “This guy is a killing machine.”

  Madison looked at Terry.

  He shrugged. “What? He is. I mean he can snipe, shoot close range, stab, and let’s not forget Douglas—break necks.”

  “Let’s hope Barnes can get us closer to the professional.”

  Madison parked across the mouth of the drive and a squad car came in behind—Higgins and a newer recruit, Tendum.

  Terry banged on Barnes’s door, and he and Madison both prepared to draw their weapons if necessary.

  Barnes’s wife sighed heavily when she saw them. “I told you to talk to our lawyer.” She went to close the door on them, but Madison nudged her foot in there and pushed the warrant through ahead of her.

  “Wait! Where do you think you’re going?”

  There was a pause while the woman must have read the warrant.

  “A search warrant? You can’t do this
.”

  “We can and we are.” Madison brushed past her. “Is your husband home?”

  “He’s out.”

  The house was in a state of disarray. Mail sat on the stairs leading down as if just taken from the box and placed there with no interest in the contents. At quick glance, most of them appeared to be bills—no wonder they were cast aside.

  From the side door, it went up a few stairs to the main level and entered the kitchen. Dirty dishes lined the counters and a sink full of clean ones waited to return to a cupboard or to be used again.

  Barnes’s wife trailed them.

  “Do you know where his gun is?” Madison asked. “It would save us the trouble of ripping things apart.”

  “I should probably get Mr. Golden here to take a look at this, though.” She waved the warrant.

  “You can do as you like, but we’ll be getting started.” Madison put on gloves and went to the nearest cabinet door, opened it, and then moved on to the next.

  Terry followed her lead on the other side of the kitchen.

  “Fine.”

  Madison stopped opening cupboards. Terry kept going.

  Barnes’s wife touched him on the shoulder. “Please stop. I’ll get it for you.”

  “You know where it is?” Madison asked.

  The woman nodded. “This way.” She nudged past them, flicked on a light at the top of the stairs, and led them into the basement, to a back corner. She pointed to an unlocked gun cabinet. “It’s in there.”

  “All right.”

  Terry stood back with the woman while Madison opened the locker. There was the gun they were looking for—right in front of them.

  Madison took it out and turned around to thank the wife for her cooperation. Donald Barnes stood there, holding a hunting rifle aimed at them. They’d never heard his footsteps on the stairs.

  “Let my wife go.”

  Madison assessed the situation. Where were Higgins and Tendum? What happened to them?

  Terry’s back was to Barnes and turning around would prove risky. It could spook Barnes into pulling the trigger.