by Anne Logan
Tara had recommended a man Maddie could hire to help load the few pieces of furniture that she had selected to take with her. By unspoken, mutual consent, neither Maddie nor Alex mentioned the night before, but more than once, Maddie found herself staring at Alex, and wanting to talk about what had happened. And more than once, she caught Alex looking at her in a way that made her wonder if he felt the same. What little conversation they made was stilted and restricted to necessary comments concerning placement of boxes. By the time the EZ-Haul was loaded, the air crackled with the tension between them.
When they finally pulled onto the interstate, it was midmorning, and Maddie could feel the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes. For the first couple of hours, Carla rode with Maddie. The teenager was still excited about the recording session she’d watched the night before. Any other time, under different circumstances, Maddie would have enjoyed the girl’s enthusiastic, nonstop chatter, but the more Carla talked, the worse Maddie’s head hurt.
After they stopped for lunch, Alex insisted that Carla ride with him for a while. Even though she felt guilty for being so relieved, Maddie was grateful for the peace and quiet.
She had just reached the northern outskirts of Birmingham, Alabama, when the sky began to grow ominously darker, lit up only occasionally by streaks of wicked, jagged lightning.
Maddie estimated that she was midway through the city when the storm hit. The driving rain made it impossible to see farther than the taillights of the car directly in front of her. Her fingers were stiff from the death grip she had on the steering wheel. Her neck and shoulders felt as if every nerve and muscle were stretched to the limit, and her eyes were beginning to water from straining to catch glimpses of the road in between the slapping windshield wipers and the sheets of water being thrown at her from passing eighteenwheelers.
Suddenly, the car in front of her braked. Maddie knew that with the slick road and the heavy load behind her, she could never stop in time without plowing into it. With a quick glance in the side-view mirror, she decided to take a chance. She jerked the steering wheel to the left, missing the other car by inches as she whipped around it.
She could feel the pull of the trailer as it resisted the sharp movement, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter. By some miracle, she was able to keep the car and the trailer on the road until she could slow down.
Up ahead, she saw bright patches of sky, a sign that she was almost through the thunderstorm. It was then that reaction set in. The trembling started in her knees and worked its way down to her feet until she had to concentrate just to keep her foot on the accelerator.
The moment she drove out of the rain, she began looking for an exit ramp. She decided what she needed were aspirins, a hot cup of coffee and a place where she could simply sit until she could calm down. And the sooner the better, she thought as the trembling in her legs grew worse and waves of nausea swept through her, the result of the hammering pain in her head.
IT WAS DARK, close to 9:00 p.m. when Maddie finally pulled into the parking spot reserved for her in front of her new apartment. The first thing she saw was Alex pacing on the sidewalk. Before she had even switched off the engine, he jerked her door open.
“What the hell happened to you? One minute you were in front of me and the next, you’d disappeared.”
Maddie shrugged, too tired to explain her almost accident as she dragged herself out of the car. “I stopped after Birmingham,” was all she said. “Where’s Carla?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
Alex made a jerky motion with his hand toward his car parked several spaces down. “She’s asleep in the back seat. She insisted on waiting here with me to make sure you were okay.”
Maddie felt a twinge of conscience, but she didn’t have time to voice the apology forming on the tip of her tongue.
“Just what do you mean you stopped after Birmingham?” he asked sharply. “Didn’t it occur to you that I might—that we might be worried? Or that you could have simply pulled off on the side of the interstate until we caught up so that we would know you intended to stop?”
Maddie began to tremble, and suddenly, all the tension and frustration, coupled with being totally exhausted, erupted. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Okay? Does that satisfy you?” Beyond polite or tactful, she continued. “It’s late and I’m tired, and I’ve still got a trailer to unload, so I’m not in the mood for one of your interrogations.” She turned and took a step, then pivoted to face him once more. “And another thing, I’m not used to having to answer to anyone for my actions. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was six years old, and I don’t need a daddy at this late date in life to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Maddie regretted her loss of control. The parking area was lit up like a Christmas tree, and there was no misinterpreting the furious expression on Alex’s face, but what came out of his mouth totally surprised her.
“It is late,” he said in a strained voice. “So we’d better get busy unloading that trailer so we can all get some rest.”
After her tirade, the last thing she’d expected was that he’d stay and help her. His willingness to do so confused her and made her feel ashamed of her outburst.
When he turned away, Maddie caught his arm.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “And again, I am sorry.” Touching him was a mistake, too poignant a reminder of how they had touched each other the night before. She quickly released her hold and took a step backward.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I would appreciate some help unloading the heavier boxes, but the furniture will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m sure the apartment manager can suggest someone I can hire to unload it.”
“What about a bed?”
Alex mentioning a bed instantly conjured up visions of the two of them, naked, lying together on top of the white comforter that covered her bed, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. Knowing that every time she slept in it, she would be reminded of the two of them together and the pain of what had happened afterward, she had purposely left the bed in Nashville. “I intend to have the one in Michael’s apartment moved here, but until then, I brought along a sleeping bag “
THE JARRING SOUND of the telephone ringing awakened Maddie the following day.
Still half-asleep and stiff from the drive as well as from sleeping on the floor, she groaned as she rolled over to grab the receiver.
“Ms. Johnson?” the voice asked.
With her eyes barely open, Maddie mumbled a reply.
“This is Josephine Carter at Crescent Antiques.”
Maddie blinked and tried to clear her sleep-fogged mind.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Keller asked me to call. He said to tell you that he’d like to talk with you at your earliest convenience. Hopefully, today, if possible.”
Maddie felt like groaning out loud. “What time?” she mumbled.
“Would two this afternoon be convenient?”
“What time is it now?”
“A little past noon.”
Two hours, she thought. Only two hours to dig through boxes, find clothes, dress and grab something to eat.
“Make it three,” she finally said.
“Oh, that’s great. And, ah…Ms. Johnson?”
“Call me Maddie.”
“Yes, of course, ah, could you meet Mr. Keller here, at the store—at Crescent Antiques?”
“Sure.” Where else would I meet him? she wondered, but decided against voicing the question since it would sound rude. After all, poor Josephine had no control over what her employer dictated.
“Oh, good, then we’ll see you at three.”
Maddie spent the next couple of hours unpacking the trailer, but by the time she needed to leave for her appointment, the EZ-Haul was still half-loaded and hooked up to her car, so she called a taxi.
Remembering that there was a café” around the corner from the store,
she had the driver drop her off there. After she paid for the ride, she stood on the sidewalk for several minutes and took in the unique sights, sounds and smells of the French Quarter. Its old-world charm and subtropical setting strongly appealed to her artistic soul.
Maddie gripped her purse tightly. If it weren’t for the creep that had broken in on her last week, she could still be living in her brother’s apartment, just blocks away. She could be a part of everything around her, and well within walking distance of Crescent Antiques.
With one last, wistful glance around, Maddie turned on her heel and hurried inside the café.
Five minutes before three, she was back out on the sidewalk, rushing toward Crescent Antiques and her appointment with Bernie Keller.
At exactly three, the bell on the entry door jingled as she stepped inside the antique store. For a moment, Maddie let her eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior. When she could see clearly again, she looked around and found that no one was behind the counter. Surely Josephine hadn’t left the place unattended, she thought, stepping farther into the room.
Maddie had only been there once before, the day after Michael’s funeral, but everything was exactly the way she remembered it. The shop had its own distinctive smell, a combination of mustiness, polish, wax and old wood that hung heavily in the air. There was barely enough room for a person to walk, and it seemed that every available space was crammed with merchandise. From her telephone conversations with Michael, she knew that some of the items had been purchased from estate auctions, while others had been imported from all over the world. The majority of the goods were true antiques, but there were also a few reproductions.
After several minutes, she began to grow uneasy. “Hello?” she called out. “Josephine? Mr. Keller?”
The sound was ever so slight, just the barest rustling that another person might have missed. But Maddie’s ears were fine-tuned from years of singing and harmonizing with other musicians.
When she glanced over her shoulder in the direction that the noise had come, she didn’t see anything.
But someone was there. She was sure of it.
The feeling that she was being watched sent chills dancing up her arms as she began backing toward the front door.
She had only taken a couple of steps when she saw him. One second, the space beside the huge dark armoire was empty, and the next, a man seemed to materialize right before her eyes.
Maddie gave out a shriek of fright. With her hand clutched to her chest, she squinted in an attempt to see him more clearly in the dim light. “You scared the daylights out of me,” she said, anger making her tone sharper than she’d intended.
When the man stepped forward but still didn’t respond in any way, Maddie felt a cold stab of fear. Slim, almost effeminate and dressed in black jeans and a matching black shirt buttoned all the way to the neck, he looked as if he’d stepped out of a vampire movie. His face was thin and pale and a thatch of dark hair fell across his eyebrows, almost obscuring his equally dark eyes.
“Is—is Josephine here?” she asked.
The man said nothing but continued staring at her in a way that made her want to bolt and run. At that moment, the bell over the door jingled. When Maddie saw who had entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, Josephine, I’m so glad to see you.”
Josephine glanced from Maddie to the man then back to Maddie. “Didn’t Terry give you my message? I told him to tell you that I had to run to the post office, but that I would be right back.”
Maddie frowned. “Terry?”
“Terry,” the older woman repeated, and with a flick of her wrist, she gestured toward the man who was still standing by the armoire and who had yet to speak a word. Josephine smiled broadly. “He works here, too, and he’s my son.”
Maddie tried to smile. “No, he didn’t give me your message, but I just walked in a few minutes ago, and there hasn’t been time.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but then she wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. She could have sworn that Terry had been there all along, had been there and had been watching her. But why? And why did he look so creepy?
Don’t judge a book by its cover. Maddie rubbed her arms in an attempt to erase the gooseflesh that wouldn’t seem to go away as another adage immediately popped into her head. If it smells like a rat and looks like a rat, then it probably is. Her gaze strayed to Terry once again, but immediately returned to Josephine. “Is Mr. Keller in?” she asked.
For an answer, Josephine leveled a look at her son. “Terry, go to the storeroom and see if Mr. Bernie is back yet.”
When, without a word, the man turned and seemed to fade into the background, another layer of chills popped out to crowd the ones that already covered Maddie’s arms. Josephine seemed nice enough, but all cliches aside, there was something really weird about her son, she decided.
“That boy.” Josephine shook her head. “Not much on the social graces, I’m afraid, but he’s a hard worker.”
Maddie estimated that “that boy” was probably older than she was.
“Maddie!”
At the sound of her name from across the store, Maddie turned in time to see Bernie Keller stroll out through a door at the back.
“So good of you to come on such short notice,” he said in the same insinuatingly familiar tone that had annoyed her so much at Michael’s funeral.
AN HOUR LATER, Maddie walked out of Crescent Antiques. A block down the street, a man stood on the corner and eyed her with contempt. Where the hell had she been for the past four days? he wondered. He’d waited for her, watched for her, but it was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth. And now she had turned up again.
When Maddie climbed inside a taxi, the man cursed, knowing he’d never make it back to his car in time to tail her.
But he would have another chance, he assured himself, and the next time, he would be ready.
BY THE TIME that Maddie returned to her apartment, she was in no mood to unpack or do anything but maybe scream, curse and throw things.
Bernie Keller had irritated her no end. She’d found out quickly the reason he’d wanted to meet with her. He’d upped his offer to buy out her half of the store. For reasons she couldn’t explain, it had given her a great deal of pleasure to say no again.
When she had politely but firmly declined, she’d immediately detected a distinct change in his attitude. His final words still rang in her ears.
“You will eventually beg to sell, but by then, I might not be in such a generous mood.’’
Of course, he’d laughed as if what he’d said was a joke, but Maddie had gotten the definite impression that the man never joked about anything.
“Arrogant so-and-so,” she muttered, kicking off the shoes she’d worn. Bernie Keller didn’t know it yet, but as soon as she was settled into her apartment, she intended to become a vital part of Crescent Antiques.
Now that she had made her decision to put her singing career on hold, it was important to have another source of income. It was true that her brother had left her quite a bit of money, but Maddie had already made up her mind to use what he’d left to hire a private investigator to help her look into Michael’s and Caroline’s deaths.
She planted her hands on her hips and glanced around at the mountains of boxes waiting to be unpacked. And the furniture was still sitting in the trailer waiting to be unloaded.
“First things first,” she muttered as she stepped over to the box that contained most of her clothes. In minutes, she’d stripped out of her dress, slip and panty hose and had pulled on her jeans and T-shirt.
Next, she headed straight for the telephone to ask the apartment manager to recommend someone she could hire to unload her furniture.
Beside her phone, the light of the answering machine was winking at her. Maddie bent over and hit the play button.
“This is Alex. Don’t worry about hiring anyone to help unload the trailer. I twisted Casey’s arm, and he agreed to meet me at your p
lace around six.” He chuckled. “All he asks as payment is a cold beer and a slab of pizza. Oh, yeah, another thing. I’ll bring the gramophone and records when I come.”
There were several seconds of silence that Maddie found odd. When Alex resumed talking, his voice had an almost hesitant quality. “I’ll be out most of today, but give me a call and let me know if this arrangement is okay with you. You can leave a message on my machine.”
Was it possible? she wondered. Had she detected just the barest hint of insecurity in his tone or was she indulging in fanciful thinking again?
There was no rush about the gramophone. She could easily pick that up herself. And he certainly wasn’t under any obligation to bring it to her or unload her furniture.
Maddie shook her head, already denying what she was thinking. Reaching out, she hit the rewind button. There was no possibility that she could have completely misjudged the situation between them. The way he’d so quickly and easily dismissed her when his ex-wife had phoned hadn’t been a figment of her imagination, and it hadn’t been her imagination that after the call, he’d gone straight to bed without so much as an apology or explanation.
Maddie closed her eyes for a moment as she recalled the sight of him pacing in front of her apartment the night before. He had been really upset.
With a sigh, she turned and began searching for the tennis shoes she’d worn the day before. Even if there was a possibility that she had overreacted their last night in Nashville, there were still at least a hundred reasons that she should keep their association on a strictly hands-off but friendly basis.
Spying her shoes peeking out from beneath a corner of the sleeping bag, Maddie sat down and pulled them on. Pizza, she thought. And beer. The pizza could be ordered from a delivery service, but the beer…Now she’d have to call a taxi again. But first she needed to call Alex.
Sure enough, Alex’s machine answered her call, and just the sound of his voice did funny things to her insides. After the beep, she drew a deep breath. “Alex, this is Maddie. I appreciate your offer and six will be fine. Thanks. See you and Casey then.”