by Brenda Novak
When they were talking privately earlier that day, she’d told Johnny she’d help him get on his feet. She’d promised to let him stay in the cottage after Caleb left, if he’d clean up and begin a rigorous rehabilitation program. But he hadn’t made any commitments. To Madison’s disappointment, the closeness and understanding they’d achieved the night before hadn’t lasted. If anything, she felt Johnny resented her even more for having seen his weakness.
“Come on, Mom, go!” Brianna said.
“Sorry.” Realizing it was her turn again, Madison offered her daughter a quick smile and picked up another card. “Oh, no!” She managed a groan for Brianna’s benefit. “I have to go back.”
Brianna laughed as she watched Madison move back to the purple “Plumpy” pictured on the card. “I’m going to win,” her daughter cried gleefully, clapping her hands.
Madison knew she was way behind Brianna, and even Johnny, on their journey to the king’s candy, but she wasn’t worried about losing the game. She was afraid that, amidst the turmoil in her life, she was about to lose something much more important.
“It’s your turn again, Mommy,” Brianna said, her voice full of fresh impatience.
A honk sounded outside and Johnny scrambled to his feet. “That’s my ride.”
Madison frowned at him. He’d made a few calls earlier. She’d heard the drone of his voice in the other room while she was reading to Brianna, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about leaving. “I didn’t know you were going anywhere,” she said. “Will you be coming back?”
“Not tonight. I’m gonna chill with a friend,” he said, heading out.
Madison opened her mouth to tell him he might want to stay close, that they might have a family crisis on their hands. But she knew it wouldn’t change his mind. He was his own walking crisis. And she didn’t want to discuss what was happening with Tye until she heard more from Caleb.
“You’re not quitting the game, too, are you, Mommy?” Brianna asked, clearly not pleased with Johnny’s defection.
Madison sighed as the door slammed behind her half brother, wondering when, if ever, she’d see him again. “No, I’m not going to quit,” she said, and took her turn, only to land on the square labeled “Gooey Gumdrop—Stay Here until a Yellow Card is Drawn.”
On her next three turns, she drew a green, a purple and then a red card. Brianna giggled each time she couldn’t move, but Madison didn’t think it was funny. The game felt a lot like her life. She couldn’t continue happily on her way until she got over Caleb.
Unfortunately, she’d done exactly what she’d told herself not to do—and fallen in love.
HOLLY TURNED OFF her headlights and let the engine of her Honda idle as she sat behind the wheel, staring at the sleepy little house where Madison lived. Rain thrummed softly on her hood and beaded on her windshield, pearl-like in those fleeting moments when the moon’s pale glow managed to slip through the clouds. Eventually, the drops began to quiver, then roll down the glass like tears. But there were no other sights or sounds to distract her. Only the beacon of light in Madison’s kitchen where she sat alone at the table, bent over something Holly couldn’t see because of the black plastic that covered half the window.
Madison Lieberman…Who would’ve thought Ellis Purcell’s daughter would exact such perfect, if unwitting, revenge? Pretty, petite Madison.
Shaking her head, Holly laughed bitterly. Men liked their women small because it made them feel strong, powerful. Small women were desirable. Holly had large bones and height to rival most men’s. The exact opposite of the petted girl she’d grown up with as her stepsister. Different from Susan in every way…
But that was nothing new. Holly had long since learned that luck was never in her corner. If she wanted anything, she had to take matters into her own hands.
Getting out of the car, she pulled the black hood of her sweatshirt up over her hair. It wasn’t easy to see through the trees that partially blocked her view of the house, but she dared not move the car any closer. Caleb wasn’t a fool. After hearing his impatience with her on the phone, she was afraid of what he’d do if he caught her here.
But she needed to look things over. To think. To plan. Madison was something new, something she hadn’t anticipated….
The smell of the sea hit her with the first blast of wind. She inhaled deeply as she made her way up the drive, crouching between the cars, moving steadily, deliberately, while gathering her calm and controlling her rage.
Caleb’s car was to the right, Madison’s to the left. They were parked side by side, as if they belonged to a married couple.
Holly grimaced and felt the hood of each car with the back of her hand. Cold. Just as she’d expected. It was nearly midnight.
With a frown, she hid in the arbor that concealed her from Madison’s house, and craned her head to see Caleb’s cottage. It was dark. He was there, in bed, without her.
She felt a sudden wave of debilitating sadness. Why did Caleb have to betray her like this? Why was he forcing her hand? It didn’t make sense. She’d done everything for him, even going so far as to arrange her sister’s death for his next book!
Absently rubbing the scratches on her arms where a few scabs remained, she closed her eyes, trying to shut out her last memories of Susan. If it hadn’t been for Lance, the cheating bastard, her sister would never have shown up at her house so late at night. Susan would never have seen what she’d seen. But she had shown up and left Holly no choice. Susan was too perceptive, too persistent and inquisitive. She wouldn’t let it go.
Still, Holly regretted that Susan was gone. Her stepsister was the only person in her life who’d stuck by her through thick and thin.
It’s okay, she told herself when her throat started to tighten and burn. I only did what I had to do. And she’d been clever enough to make it all work to her advantage. She wasn’t going to let Caleb slip away from her now. Madison would be a figure in his next book, nothing more, and Holly and Caleb would finally be together again.
Except Holly’s rival wasn’t only a woman. It was a child, too. She’d seen that picture on the fridge, known instantly how much Madison’s daughter would appeal to Caleb. He’d wanted children for years….
Holly remembered the time she’d pretended to be pregnant. Sometimes it helped to pretend. Having a child would have made her life so much easier. Caleb wouldn’t have left her if there’d been a baby.
Only she couldn’t conceive. The abortion she’d given herself at sixteen had ruined any chance of that. But she wouldn’t allow Madison to offer him what she couldn’t.
Reality, as cold and harsh as the wind stinging her face, was too strong for pretending tonight. Holly knew she had to face the truth and deal with the gut-roiling jealousy that caused her real, physical pain—pain so acute she doubled over, barely biting back a groan.
“I’ll fix it…I’ll fix it….” She whispered those words like an incantation until she could believe her own promise. Until she could stand again. Until she could breathe.
She would fix it, she decided. She’d fix everything.
But how? Holly bit her lip as she tried to think. She could lure Caleb away from the house with a lie about some new piece of evidence. If she said Margie White, a friend of Susan’s they’d already interviewed, had found something in her car, Caleb would rush right over to her house. Margie wouldn’t know what he was talking about once he got there, of course, but Holly didn’t need Margie to support the lie. She just needed time. When she saw Caleb again, she’d tell him that whoever had called her with the information had sounded just like Margie. She must have been mistaken, she’d say. Anyone could call based on that flyer they’d distributed, right? Maybe she’d even try to make it seem like a crank. And once Caleb was gone, she’d cut Madison’s phone line, just in case things didn’t go as smoothly as planned.
That was it, she decided. That was a good plan. With that plan, Madison and Brianna wouldn’t figure in Caleb’s affections for long.
THE RINGING OF the telephone interrupted a particularly good dream. Caleb was reluctant to wake fully, but he thought it might be Madison. Why he thought it might be her, he wasn’t sure. Probably just wishful thinking.
“Hello?” Hearing the scratchy quality of his own voice, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello?”
“Wake up, Trovato.”
Gibbons. Caleb tried not to feel disappointed. Shoving himself into a sitting position, he shot a glance at the clock to see that it was only one in the morning and not dawn, as he’d first assumed. “What is it? Did you arrest Tye Purcell?”
“No.”
Caleb’s disappointment grew exponentially. He’d been so sure they’d finally reached the end of the road, achieved resolution. “Why not?”
“Several reasons. Remember that drop of blood we found on the sheet beneath Susan’s body?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Type O, and Tye’s Type B. It might take a few weeks to do a DNA comparison, but it only takes a minute to get a blood type.”
“So that’s it? We’re back to square one?” Caleb propped the phone against his shoulder, got out of bed and yanked on his jeans. He needed a cup of coffee. He’d slept most of the day and half the night, but he still felt groggy as hell.
“Not yet. Holly just called me.”
“Thank God she didn’t call me,” Caleb muttered, heading to the kitchen. He was so sick of hearing from his ex-wife he thought he could live the rest of his life without contact and be the better for it.
“You two having a lovers’ quarrel?”
Caleb flipped on the kitchen light, wincing at the sudden brightness. “We don’t have a lovers’ anything. What’d she want?”
“She said a friend of Susan’s named Margie called her and—”
“This late? Don’t people do things in the middle of the day anymore?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. According to Holly, Margie just found a note in her car signed by a man named Tye. She thinks it must’ve fallen out of Susan’s purse a week or so before she died, when Margie and Susan went to lunch.”
“Holly and I met Margie,” Caleb said, scratching his bare chest with one hand while filling the coffeepot with the other. “She seemed pretty straight up, but—”
“Whether she’s straight up or not, handwriting samples and maybe fingerprints should tell us whether the note is really from Tye,” Gibbons interjected.
Caleb set the coffeepot on the counter. “But a note from Tye doesn’t make sense. I thought you just said his blood type doesn’t match the blood found on the sheet. Yet suddenly we have proof that he and Susan knew each other?”
“I’m as confused as you are.”
Something didn’t feel right. Caleb shook his head.
“You wanna meet me at Margie’s house?” Gibbons asked.
Caleb changed the phone to his left hand so he could button his jeans with his right. “Are you asking me to come? When you found Susan’s car, I had to twist your arm to let me join you.”
“Yeah, well, you know I’m not supposed to bring civilians. An ex-cop is one thing. Holly’s another. But Holly claims this woman won’t talk to me tonight unless you’re there. And I’d really like things to be easy for a change. If Tye is our killer, we’ve got to close in before he runs or hurts someone else.”
“Why won’t Margie talk to you without me?” Caleb asked. That didn’t sound right, either. He’d only met her once, and they hadn’t spoken since then.
“Who knows? Holly said Margie trusts you because she’s met you before. I told her Margie shouldn’t have any problem trusting me, but she repeated that she’d promised Margie you’d be there. You know how a woman thinks. If telling you once is good, repeating it fifty times is better, even if it doesn’t make sense from the get-go.”
“Where’s Holly now?” Caleb asked.
“At home. She wanted to come, too, but I told her there was no way, not after the kind of behavior she exhibited at Lance Perkin’s the other night.”
“Did she give up?”
“Yeah. She said she’d stay out of it so long as you’re going to be there. And believe me, I’d much rather have you present than her.”
“Thanks, but I’m not dumb enough to believe that’s much of a compliment,” Caleb said dryly.
Gibbons chuckled. “We’ll get this woman’s statement and the note. That’s it. If I need to arrest Tye, I’ll take a couple of uniforms. When we questioned him today he nearly went ballistic.”
“This note doesn’t add up,” Caleb muttered again.
“I’ve got to check it out whether it adds up or not,” Gibbons said. “Are you coming?”
“I’m on my way.” Lord knows he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anymore tonight.
MADISON EXAMINED the sketch she’d just finished of Caleb’s chest and shoulders, and scowled in frustration. His sculpted body easily lent itself to an artist’s pencil. So did the raw-boned beauty of his face. But she’d been drawing for more than two hours and simply couldn’t match the vision of him she held in her head.
She was still such an amateur, she thought in disgust, and dropped her pencil. But she’d drawn Caleb’s mouth earlier, and felt she’d done a better job there. That sketch sat on the table at her elbow, tempting her eye again and again because his lips looked almost as sensual on paper as they did in real life. Almost. With Caleb, it was pretty tough to compete with reality.
Why she continued to torture herself by sketching him, Madison didn’t know. She had so much work she needed to do. But drawing was the only thing that kept her from thinking too much about Tye and whether or not he’d be going to prison—or facing an even worse punishment.
Tomorrow would probably tell….
Pushing away from the table, she stood and stretched. She’d stayed up far too late. Her life might be in upheaval, but responsibilities didn’t disappear. Tomorrow was Monday. Brianna had school, and Madison had to work. She’d checked earlier and already knew her voice mail was loaded with messages. Which was good. If business didn’t pick up soon, she’d have a lot more to worry about than Tye getting arrested, or moving on without Caleb in her life.
Gathering her pads and pencils, Madison piled them neatly on the counter. Then she lingered in the kitchen, wiping off the faucet, cleaning the microwave and watering her plants, dreading the moment she actually had to call it a night. Everything seemed so quiet, so still, like the calm before a storm.
When she ran out of things to do, she started down the hall. But the crunch of tires on gravel outside drew her back. She’d heard Caleb leave about twenty minutes ago. She couldn’t help hoping he was back. She liked knowing he was around.
Or maybe it was someone dropping off Johnny….
Standing to the side of the window, Madison watched a tall blond woman climb out of a familiar white Honda.
It wasn’t Caleb or Johnny. It was Holly.
HOLLY SMILED WHEN Madison passed the window on her way to the door. She hadn’t even had a chance to knock. Obviously Madison wasn’t afraid of her. Not that Holly had expected her to be. Women weren’t typically afraid of other women. Even during the media blitz following the other murders, Holly had never had trouble getting young women, complete strangers, to meet her somewhere or even come to her apartment. She’d bumped into Tatiana Harris at the grocery store and, simply by striking up a conversation and laughing at the stupid little comments Tatiana made about her husband, had talked her into going to a movie with her instead of straight home. Rosey Martin had gone home with her from the Laundromat to watch a video. Lori Schiller had agreed to meet her at a park. And there were others, including Anna Tyler, who’d lived next door.
Want to come over? We can do makeovers…manicures…have a drink…grab a bite to eat….
Women were so gullible—and catty and deceitful. They pretended to be your friend only to stab you in the back the moment you confided in them. Just like
Rosie Wheeler and Paige Todd had done to her in high school.
Holly winced at the memory of the morning she’d shown up at school to find Baby Killer and Whore written in nail polish across her locker. She could still hear the whispers and muffled laughter, still feel the scorn that had nearly smothered her for months afterward. The other girls wouldn’t include her, or even speak to her. But she’d show them.
She’d show Madison, too. Madison wouldn’t take away the one person who made her feel complete. She hadn’t felt the same anger when she believed Caleb loved her, hadn’t bothered anyone the whole time they were married. There wasn’t any reason to. When she had Caleb she had what all the other girls wanted and could simply laugh in their faces.
But if she was going to hang on to Caleb, she had to move fast. He wouldn’t stay gone forever.
She reached the front step and heard the scrape of the deadbolt as Madison unlocked the door. “Is something wrong, Holly?” she asked, opening it slightly.
“Sorry to stop by so late,” Holly said. “I wasn’t going to bother you. I was just hoping to catch Caleb. But I don’t see his car. I guess he’s not home, huh?”
“He left about twenty minutes ago.”
“That’s too bad.” She laughed. “I’m so out of it. I forgot my purse at his place again. Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”
“I’m afraid not. It might be smarter to call him tomorrow.” She started to close the door.
Holly quickly put out a hand to stop her. “I’ll do that. But before you go, I have something to tell you.”
Madison seemed to hesitate. Holly could see only a slice of her face and body through the door, but it was enough to know she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a cropped T-shirt. The T-shirt was faded and worn, but the way it hugged Madison’s small breasts made Holly even angrier. She was trying to steal Caleb, tempt him. Women—they were always up to something.