Chicken Scratch (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 1)

by Becki Willis

  Madison was torn. The mom in her was thrilled. Being cheerleader in a small school was akin to instant stardom and popularity, meaning Bethani would not only fit in, but would secure her place here in The Sisters; wanting to try out meant she was thinking long-term. But the bread-earner in Madison was worried. She knew being a cheerleader did not come cheaply. There were uniforms, camps, transportation back and forth to practices and games; could she afford it?

  Seeing the hopeful expression on her daughter’s face, Madison knew she would find a way. Even if it meant adding the dreaded task of ‘walking chicken houses’ back onto her resume, it was worth seeing Bethani happy and excited once again. Since her father’s death, both emotions had been non-existent for the teen.

  Realizing the girl still waited for an answer, Madison said, “I think you’ll need to practice.”

  Bethani squealed and clapped her hands, doing a little happy dance in her chair. “You’re the best, Mom! And actually, we’ve already started practicing. Megan asked me to come over this afternoon so we could try out a few new cheers.”

  “This afternoon?” Madison practically whined. She eyed her own legs, stretched out comfortably on the couch.

  Her cell phone rang and Dean Lewis’s name showed on the screen. By the time she hung up with him, she was abandoning the couch. “Looks like I can drop you off after all,” she told her daughter. “I have to meet a client and pick up a key.”

  “Cool! I’ll call Megan and tell her it’s a go.”

  Envying her daughter’s energy, Madison was much slower moving into the bedroom. She traded her comfortable sweats for a pair of slacks and a button-up blouse. She eyed her reflection in the mirror, aware of the fact that the staid blouse was at odds with her trendy new haircut. She had considered buying a new top or two, but if Bethani made cheerleader, her money would go into shoes and tights and colorful shoelaces. It was always the little things that added up and destroyed a budget.

  Madison followed Bethani’s directions to the opposite side of Juliet, into the newer subdivision that boasted large, sprawling homes and immaculate lawns. She suspected the upscale neighborhood had something to do with her daughter’s new approval rating, but no matter the reason, Madison was thankful. She did not relish the thought of fighting her children over the necessity of staying in Juliet.

  After dropping the teen off, Madison drove to the insurance office on Second Street. She arrived just as Dean Lewis did, so he ushered her into the building and gave her last minute instructions.

  “Mostly I want you to answer phones and handle the mail. You mentioned you didn’t mind filing a few things?”

  Madison eyed the gargantuan stack of papers on his desk and decided ‘a few’ was definitely a relative term, but she politely nodded. “No, not at all.”

  “I do want you to be on the lookout for an envelope from A&O Insurance. It should be the policy on Ronny Gleason’s death. If it comes in, could you please call Ramona and let her know it has arrived? I’m sure she’ll be anxious to get the money.”

  “I’m sure,” Madison murmured. If rumors were true, it meant she could have another nip and tuck, or perhaps add another cup size to her already-generous bosom.

  “Any questions?” Dean Lewis asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, then, here’s the key. You remember that you work a full day Monday and Wednesday, mornings only on Tuesday and Thursday?”

  “Yes, sir, I remember.”

  “Fine, fine. We should be in Thursday afternoon, so I’ll arrange to get the key after that.”

  “And you’ve left your contact information, in case I need to reach you?” Madison double-checked the details as they made their way out the door and onto the sidewalk.

  “Yes, it’s all there on my desk. Well, Mrs. Reynolds, I trust I’m leaving my business in good hands.” He thrust his hand forward for a formal shake.

  Madison looked him in the eye and offered a firm, confident handshake. “Absolutely, Mr. Lewis. You have a wonderful convention and don’t worry about things here. I have everything under control.”

  As Madison limped down the steps to the car and her cell phone rang, she was thankful there were no chickens or goats involved with this job.

  “Maddy?” Granny Bert’s voice crinkled from the other end of her cell phone. “I need you to swing by and pick me up. I have an errand to run.”

  So much for relaxing today, Madison bemoaned silently, but forced a smile into her voice. “Okay, on my way.” She was using her grandmother’s car, after all; the least she could do was drive her around on errands.

  Sooner or later, she would have to replace her SUV. The insurance company was being stubborn, arguing over the smallest details. Madison was holding out for the maximum payout, but desperation weakened her resolve. She knew it was exactly what the insurance company wanted and she hated playing into their hands, but she needed her own car, and soon.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as her grandmother met her at the curb.

  “I need to go by the Big House. Hank Adams called and said he thought he saw lights there last night. Need to make sure no one’s been inside, messing around.”

  “It still has electricity hooked up?” Madison asked in surprise.

  “Electricity, gas, the whole nine yards. I don’t want the pipes freezing or the wallpaper peeling from too much heat.”

  The Big House, as it was commonly referred to, sat upon an entire city block, on the corner of Juliet’s Second and Main. The three-storied structure resembled a wooden wedding cake, with tiers and curves and enough lattice frosting to befit the finest of cakes. A brick pathway lead from the curb up to the house, edged with flowerbeds and small shrubs. Large oak and massive pecan trees dotted the yard, with a few pines mixed in for year-round color. Behind the house was an assortment of smaller buildings: a carriage-house-turned-garage, a gardener’s shed, gazebo, and a caretaker’s cottage. All could use a fresh coat of paint and a bit of TLC.

  “Just pull up here along the street and we’ll walk in,” Granny Bert said. There was an ornate white iron fence around the property and an electronic gate to keep out trespassers.

  “Don’t remember the gate code?” Madison teased.

  “Of course I remember. I just figured we could use the exercise,” her grandmother huffed. “It’ll do that stiff knee of yours good.”

  Madison dutifully followed her grandmother through the foot gate, up the cobbled path, and onto the steps of the first front porch. Three more porches and balconies graced the front of the house, not to mention the long covered porch across the back.

  “Be careful on this step. I nearly fell off it last month when I was on the ladder, fixing that loose trim.”

  “What on earth were you doing up on a ladder? You have no business crawling around like that,” Madison immediately chided.

  “Don’t you dare say a thing about my age.”

  She raised her hands in innocence. “I didn’t use the ‘o’ word.”

  “And it’s a good thing, too,” her grandmother harrumphed. She propped the screen door open with her foot, jiggled a key in the lock, and swung the glass paned front door open with flourish. “After you, my dear.”

  Stepping through the front door of the Big House was like stepping into another era. Madison had visited museums with less attention to detail than the front foyer of Juliet Randolph Blakely’s home. It had been years since Madison had been inside, but nothing had changed, except for the added layers of dust.

  “We’ll do a walk-through and make sure everything is in order,” Granny Bert said, taking the lead. “I’ll go left, you go right.”

  Wandering through the rooms, Madison almost forgot she was on a mission. Each of the rooms had at least one special detail that made it remarkable: burled wood wainscoting, a fireplace with inlaid Italian marble, exquisite stained glass windows, ingenuous pocket doors to make two small rooms function as one large one. For a modern home, the rooms were r
ather crowded and the layout was awkward, but in its time, the house was nothing less than an extravagant mansion.

  Madison stepped on a few squeaky and loose boards, noted wallpaper peeling in the front parlor, and wondered how a kitchen so ill planned and spaced out could ever function properly, but nothing seemed amiss. She met Granny Bert back in the entryway with a shrug.

  “I didn’t see a thing,” she reported. “Should we go upstairs?”

  “All the way to the third floor, unless you’re afraid of heights.”

  “Not me,” Madison grinned, jogging up the stairs to prove her point. After testing the banister for sturdiness, she even leaned out over the railing in daredevil fashion. She took the right side of the house again, trailing through bedrooms with their own sitting rooms but a sad shortage of bathrooms. Granny Bert was already waiting for her at the carved staircase leading to the uppermost floor.

  “I can go up by myself, if you like,” Madison offered.

  Granny Bert gave her a cool look. “You’re implying the ‘o’ word again.”

  Hooking her arm through her grandmother’s, Madison laughed as they climbed the stairs together. “This house is magnificent. And I understand why you don’t live here, but why didn’t one of your boys want to? It’s a shame a house like this is just sitting here.”

  “My boys already had homes of their own by the time I inherited it. Your Uncle Glenn built that big house over on Elm, and Joe Bert and Trudy live out on her family’s ranch. Darwin lives in Odessa, and your dad lives wherever the wind blows him. Nobody needed this house.”

  “But it’s so gorgeous,” Madison said, wistfully trailing her fingers over the smooth banister. They reached the top floor, where only three rooms occupied the space, and all of them empty. The two turrets had once served as sitting rooms for the long narrow room yawning between; that space had been the ballroom, perfect for parties and grand social events.

  Stepping into the turret nearest them, Madison looked out the windows and smiled. “Can’t you image having a room up here as a young girl? It would be like Cinderella.”

  “I was thinking Rapunzel,” her grandmother smiled. She walked around the empty room, using hand motions to place imaginary furniture. “There would be plenty of room for a bed and dresser. Can’t you imagine Bethani up here?”

  “She would absolutely love it!” Madison clasped her hands together in delight, trying to picture her daughter in a room such as this. She grinned as she added, “But only if it had good cell phone service.”

  “It’s good to see the girl smiling again.”

  “You’re telling me! Did you know she’s thinking of trying out for cheerleader?”

  “I suspected as much.”

  “You did?” Madison asked in surprise.

  “She goes around waving her hands above her head and swishing her hips to a silent chant. It was either that, or she was having convulsions.”

  Madison peered out the window, noting how well she could see the town from there. To the left she caught a glimpse of the railroad track, to the right she could see two blocks down to City Hall and beyond. Directly across the street was a small row of businesses and parking spaces, but the big front lawn made a nice buffer for the noise. Juliet truly was a lovely town.

  “At least the twins both seem content with the fact that we’ll still be here in the fall. Blake is talking about playing football, and now Bethani is trying out for cheerleader. I just hope she doesn’t get her hopes up and then be disappointed if she doesn’t make it.”

  “Tell her to mention my name at try-outs and she’ll be a shoo-in,” Granny Bert said airily.

  Madison paused in mid-air as she started down the stairway. “Granny Bert! That would be cheating!”

  “How would it be cheating?” the older woman sniffed. “Mentioning that I’m her great-grandmother wouldn’t be cheating and it wouldn’t be dishonest. It’s a known fact that I was married to a founding member of The Sisters ISD school board, that I personally donated the money to build a new auditorium in his honor, that I’m the mother of a current school board member and grandmother of two of the district’s best teachers, and that as former mayor, I encouraged the city to help fund a new elementary playground. Those are the facts, not cheating.”

  Unease settled in Madison’s stomach. “Is that why I was named Homecoming Queen my senior year?”

  “You were named Homecoming Queen because you were the prettiest and smartest girl in school, and because you were popular,” her grandmother assured her in blunt tones. “My name had nothing to do with it.”

  As they continued down the stairs, Granny Bert said, “I think I have another job lined up for you.”

  “Whose dog am I walking now? Or whose medicine needs picking up?” She tried not to sound as despondent as she felt. Other than her upcoming assignment at the insurance office, her temp service was not panning out the way she had imagined.

  “Neither. Glenn and Betsy are going on a cruise and need someone to look after the dealership while they’re gone.”

  “I don’t know anything about selling cars!”

  “What’s to know? Either it runs or it doesn’t. But luckily for you, they already have a salesman. They need someone to man the phones, make service appointments, do payroll, that kind of thing. Best thing is, it comes with a demo car.”

  That was all Madison had to hear. “When do I start?” she beamed.

  “They leave this weekend and will be gone for ten days, give or take.”

  “Perfect. I finish at the insurance agency on Thursday.”

  “See, girl? These things have a way of working out.”

  They reached the bottom floor without seeing a single thing amiss.

  “Guess it was just kids, shining flashlights into the windows,” Granny Bert said with a shrug. “That, or Hank was getting a reflection off his lens implant; he had cataract surgery not too long ago.”

  “To be honest, I’m surprised no one has vandalized the house, considering it’s empty.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about selling the house,” her grandmother confessed.

  “Sell the Big House?” Madison asked in dismay. The iconic house had been sitting on the corner for one hundred years. Would new owners honor its history, or would they turn it into condominiums, or worse yet, a funeral parlor? What if they bulldozed the whole thing and built a warehouse in its place? A cheap chain store where everything was a dollar? Her heart ached, just thinking of the dismal prospect.

  “Oh, I’d never sell it to just anybody,” Granny Bert assured her. “I’d want someone with ties to Juliet’s past. But more importantly, someone with ties to her future. I want someone with deep roots and high branches.”

  “That’s a relief,” Madison said, putting a hand to her fluttering heart.

  “Know anybody that fits the bill?”

  “Me? I just got back in town, remember?”

  “I know. The question is, how long do you plan to stay?” her grandmother asked with a pointed gaze.

  Madison held the door while her grandmother jiggled the key once more and secured the lock. With her eyes fixed on the sleepy street before her, Madison considered the question. There was something so peaceful about Juliet. Naomi, too. Life in a small Southern town was comforting.

  It could also be inconvenient at times. There were no Starbucks, no major fast food restaurants, no malls or Super Centers. However, there was a sense of community and family, a close-knit network that could work for you or against you, depending on the situation. Not a single ‘friend’ from the city had checked on her since she moved away; almost every single day, someone here in Juliet asked how she was doing or offered to help or gave her some word of encouragement. And the kids were adjusting, even Bethani.

  “I’ll probably stay around for a while,” she finally said.

  “Well, when you know for sure, I’ll sell you the Big House.”

  Madison laughed aloud. “Sell it to me? What on earth would I u
se for money?”

  “Oh, I’m sure we could come to a very agreeable price,” her grandmother said with confidence.

  “Like what?” Madison hooted. “I doubt I could even afford utilities on a house that size!”

  “We won’t discuss a price until you commit to staying here in Juliet. Then we’ll talk numbers.”

  “Why me? What would your other grandchildren say if you sold the house to me?”

  “Joe Glenn just built a house over in the new addition, Hallie lives outside of town in a huge house of her own, and Larry is ranch foreman and lives out on the ranch. Jillian and her husband live in College Station where he’s a professor, and all of Darwin’s kids live in West Texas. You’re the only one who needs a house.”

  Madison followed her grandmother off the porch, but stopped to look back at the huge, aging structure. It definitely needed some work, particularly on the inside. The kitchen was a nightmare, and the pathetically few bathrooms were small and outdated.

  Not that she was even considering the possibility. Madison shook her head to clear the ludicrous thought and laughed away her grandmother’s statement. “Not that much of a house, I don’t!”

  She was still laughing when she relayed the conversation to Genesis later that evening.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Madison’s first day at the insurance company was less memorable than her first day at the chicken houses. She spent the morning filing paperwork and answering phone calls. Two people came by to drop off insurance payments and she collected the mail. By all counts, her newest job was rather boring.

  A series of telephone hang-ups kept Madison on her toes. At first, she thought it was someone unfamiliar with her voice and therefore reluctant to speak with her about their insurance needs. Dean Lewis did not have caller I.D. as part of his phone service, so she had no way of knowing if it was the same person calling back. By the fourth hang-up, she knew the calls were intentional. Since she would not put it past Myrna Lewis to call and check up on her, Madison made a game of the calls. Each time silence met her on the other end, she went into a detailed spiel about the many services offered by Dean Lewis Insurance Company. By the end of the day, she adapted part of the pitch into her standard greeting when answering the phone.