Madison Mosby and the Moonmilk Wars

by Jason Winn

  “Why should I trust you?” asked Madison.

  “I worked for Nancy Mosby, in Philadelphia and New Jersey. She even gave me the secret of this.”

  Tentacles of smoke gripped and released Madison’s arm. The sensation sent a chill across her skin.

  “That’s interesting. What else did my grandmother give you?”

  “A few years before she disappeared, she asked me to look after the customers there. I’ve done the best I could, but I can’t seem to get her recipe just right. She taught me everything I know about the Moonmilk business, but unfortunately not her recipe. I know she meant to give it to me for safekeeping, but I fear she left us too abruptly. Now all I have is the giant storm she installed.”

  Madison’s heart jumped. “You have a storm brewer?”

  “Yes. Once business took off in Philadelphia, Nancy had it built and installed in my home. She said it was far bigger that the one in her home. I never got to see that one, however.”

  That’s it! Madison thought. This was what she needed. A second storm brewer to keep up with demand.

  “Well…I…that’s…I’d like to see that.” She let out a nervous laugh.

  “Are you having trouble keeping up with orders?” Contessa’s eyebrows knitted. “I can imagine.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Contessa smiled. It was a warm, comforting smile. “Child, you should come see it. If you can get it working, I’d be happy to let you use it. And no, I’m not looking for the recipe. I’m sure you’re taking good care to keep is safe. Goodness, Nancy kept that one close to her. She had her people bring in the compound and brew it up. Then off they’d go, Moonmilk in barrels.”

  Barrels? Madison thought. She could hardly contain her excitement.

  “I can see you’re excited, child.” Contessa paused for a moment. “Madison, if you were open to selling me Moonmilk, just so I could help the few of Nancy’s old customers, I’d be more than happy to work out an arrangement like I had with Nancy.”

  “I might be able to do that.”

  Contessa took another puff on her cigarette. “There’s something else I want to ask you. Have you run across a family by the name of Preen? I hear they swooped in like vultures, picking away at Nancy’s operation, taking over. I even hear they were working with a loathsome group in Europe. Although, to what end, I cannot say.”

  Yeah, I met them all right, Madison thought. But, she wanted to wait and see what Contessa knew about them.

  “I’m sorry, who?” said Madison.

  “Esther and Donald Preen. Irish, I think. Someone, I was hoping it was you, removed them. Or, they heard you were in the area, turned tail and left town. They had a son, his name escapes me at the moment. I hear he’s still active in DC, probably furious at whoever ran off his dear mother and father.”

  Contessa paused and looked Madison up and down. “Why Madison, you look pale. Is something wrong?”

  “No. No, I’ve never met him. Or them for that matter.” Madison held in a curse.

  “Madison, we have to be honest with one another. I want to help you in any way I can. Nancy was a giant of a woman, and I’m sure there’s no end to what you’ve discovered in her absence.”

  Madison felt uncomfortable for a second. The old woman seemed to know a little too much about her operation. Of course, Langston knew pretty much everything and he turned out okay, for the most part. She hated herself for not being able to read people’s sincerity. She couldn’t tell if she was being set up or helped.

  “How do you know about the Preens?” asked Madison. “I mean, this world is so secretive, most of my clients don’t say more than ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’”

  Contessa blew out a cloud of smoke and smiled. “Because I still keep in touch with some of Nancy’s old customers. I watched Donald and Esther take over after she disappeared. My friends tried to use them, out of sheer desperation. It was awful, they told me. Their Moonmilk barely did a thing for them and the Preens charged a fortune for it. But, what choice did they have? I don’t use Moonmilk, so I never had to suffer theirs.”

  Madison didn’t want to talk about the Preens. She could handle their son, Louis. Contessa was a rarity, someone who knew the secret, magical side of Nancy. She couldn’t wait anymore. “What was my Grandmother like?” She had to know more about her. Langston had only given her basic facts, nothing deep, nothing on an emotional level.

  Contessa gave that gentle smile. “The world was hers, but I don’t think she was ever satisfied with how it spun. I’d love to sit and talk with you more about her, but I really must be on my way. The skies look like they are about to open up again. I will say this though. I always wondered, with all that magic around her, with all the power she had, why she never decided to touch a pilot stone and learn sorcery herself.” Contessa’s face went stern for the first time and her gentle eyes narrowed. “Or, did she do it and never tell anyone?”

  “I don’t know.” Madison suddenly felt uneasy, seeing Contessa stare at her with what she could only describe as hunger. She decided to change the subject.

  “Can you put me in contact with some of these old customers? I’d like their business.” The notebook with old contacts was yielding some results, but Sean was finding more tombstones than live bodies.

  Contessa thought for a moment and reached out for Madison’s arm. “I’ll do better than that. I want you to come up to my ball next month. Everyone will be there. And you can inspect the storm brewer.”

  “Okay. I might be able to do that.”

  “Oh, wonderful.” Contessa clasped her hands together. The comforting, youthful woman was back. She looked like a teenaged girl who’d just been crowned prom queen.

  Madison was taken aback with this invitation. That would be amazing. Surely some of her customers would be there too. This could be her coming-out party of sorts. Maybe, seeing her at this ball would legitimize her and get them to trust her more.

  They walked in silence for a moment, before Contessa smiled. “Our world turned into a nightmare after Nancy left us. I’ve lost so many people.” Contessa’s face drooped. “We’re dying, and I look at you so young and powerful, just like Nancy was at your age, and I see hope for the magical world.” She reached out a shaky hand and took Madison’s arm. Her cigarette hand went to Madison’s shoulder.

  Smokey fingers drifted across Madison’s hair like a loving mother’s touch. “We can rebuild the Rose Widow’s empire.”

  “I’m ready,” said Madison.

  “Good. But, before we can do that, there is one more thing that has to get sorted out. There is a group of detestable people, Russians, who are going to drive a wedge between us.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, they moved into the Baltimore territory. They killed Nancy’s old distributor there, took control of his storm brewer. I fear that, like the young Preen boy, they are coming to move on you, now that they’ve consolidated their power. My people tell me they’ve been buying police for street muscle.”

  The bakery attacks. Madison felt her pulse rise.

  “They’ve been so successful,” Contessa continued, “I hear their product is as good as or even superior to Nancy’s.”

  Madison scowled.

  “Why don’t you deal with them?” Madison asked. “It sounds like I will have my hands full with this Preen kid.”

  “I would, but I’m too old for this business of battling over turf. Thank goodness, they don’t know about me, yet. They would kill me. But I worry your organization is too weak to take them on. I would give you their information, but they may force you to work for them. That would be a shame.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Madison. She folded her arms resolutely.

  Jane isn’t going to like this one bit, she thought.

  “Very well, then. I will send you their information. But be very careful, my child. If you fail, I fear you will have to give up the Moonmilk market for good. Their storm brewer is very powerful.”

  “
Can’t they just make another one?”

  Contessa laughed. “Child, all the people who knew how to build the ones like yours and mine are long dead. Not even Nancy had the plans to build one.”

  “I’ll take theirs out of commission.”

  “Nancy would be so proud of you.”

  I know.

  “I’ll mail you an invitation to the ball in the next few days. I look forward to seeing you there.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Contessa smiled and turned to walk back the way she came. Watching her go, Madison was confident she’d just made a powerful friend. For the first time in weeks, she felt her confidence soaring. Her pocket buzzed. It was a text from Sean.

  Sean: Need to talk now. You’ve got dirty cops after you.

  No shit.

  Madison: So?

  Sean: They’re a freelance hit squad.

  Oh shit.

  Chapter 50

  Dana sat in her car and looking up at the mansion. It was late morning on Sunday and she’d just returned from Starbucks to find she was alone. Madison’s and Sarah’s cars were gone. Han was probably puttering around somewhere and Margaret was off shopping for the week’s groceries. She always went on Sunday morning, before the after-church crowd.

  She looked down at the phone Hugo gave her. Madison had carelessly left it in the study after their fight. The two hadn’t spoken since then. Dana felt more isolated than normal as a result of her sister’s tirade. All she wanted was to make sure Madison was okay. She could be such a cold bitch sometimes. The Mosby family bonds never felt so frayed as they did now.

  The phone’s call log showed ten outgoing calls to the same number. There hadn’t been one incoming call. Why had Hugo gone to the trouble of meeting with her, if he didn’t plan on ever taking her calls? Had this just been some sort of prank, something to show how stupid she was?

  Pretty convincing put up job, she thought.

  He’d looked so serious though and not to mention powerful, with those men around him.

  “Madison becoming unhinged,” he said.

  Dana had to look that up to make sure it meant, going crazy. It did. Her older sister was clearly coming “unhinged,” meeting with those bikers. They were screaming and shouting for their lives. It scared Dana a little. Madison hadn’t said a word about it.

  She thought about going to Shelby or her father and telling them. But what would she say? “Hey, Madison is dealing with some wild magical shit. Do something.” What would they do? Shelby would probably have the FBI tear the place apart. Their father, on the other hand, would just shake his head and retreat to his mountain hideout.

  She could see the rage in Madison’s face again, the way her eyes always went crazy when she got mad. Ultimately, Dana’s sweet setup would be taken away. She’d have to go back to a real job and probably living in a shitty apartment again, like the one she shared with Brad.

  And speaking of Brad, she didn’t miss him. She wondered from time to time where he was. She hoped he was okay. He had treated her well enough, most of the time.

  She considered calling up Lucy, her closest friend, who she hadn’t spoken to in months. Moving into and exploring the mansion had consumed her. Plus, Madison had her running in so many directions, getting the bakeries setup, that she’d forgotten about all the close friends she had. Staying in touch on social media, was all well and good, but seeing and hanging out mattered most. She hadn’t seen anyone since Madison figured out Nancy Mosby’s whatever recipe.

  Thinking about Lucy and Brad opened a hole in the stable little persona she’d built. She was hanging on to her social life by a thread. If she so much as pulled too hard or not enough the person she used to be would be lost. Then she’d be some miserable shut in.

  Burying yourself in a mansion, with no need to work a real job, was a motivation killer. And why should she be motivated? For the first time in four years, she had clothes that looked nice and fit her. She had an unlimited supply of food and no need to worry about paying rent.

  Then Madison’s words in the bathroom at Sage, came back to her, “People could start getting killed.”

  Was that why Hugo disappeared? Maybe Hugo wanted to do something with Dana’s information; something bad to Madison. Had Madison killed him? No way. She looked down at the cell phone again, before popping out the battery. If Hugo didn’t want to talk to her, if he didn’t want to know what she had to say, then fuck him. What was the point of keeping secrets from Madison? Dana didn’t know.

  Her mind went to static. She didn’t want to think any more. She was hungry and wanted to go watch Netflix. The thought made her feel lonely again. She was twenty-two, and the high point of her day was eating and watching television. What the fuck kind of life was that? What was the difference between a nerd who lived in his mom’s basement and a girl who lived in a bedroom in her sister’s mansion?

  That’s not her mansion, Dana thought. She acts like it is, but it isn’t.

  And where was Madison?

  Probably out…

  Dana had no idea what Madison did when she was off with Sarah. The name, Sarah, put a foul taste in her mouth. Sarah, the little sister Madison always wanted. Someone to look up to her in awe, with wide puppy dog eyes.

  You’re not family. You’re just a hanger-on. At least I earned my spot, here. I don’t care if one or both your parents are dead.

  Madison didn’t respect the little, perfect, country blonde girl. Dana could see that, the way she ordered her around all the time. Sarah thought she was family. She wasn’t. Dana wanted to tell her to get lost. She wasn’t a Mosby. She didn’t belong in the mansion. And she was there all the time.

  Dana had suffered for this operation. Whatever it was. She had been shot in the head, for god’s sake.

  What did you do, Sarah?

  “Kiss Madison’s ass,” she grumbled.

  And where was this “promotion” Madison was always talking about? She’d barely spoken to Dana in the last week, rushing in and out of the house, without so much as a hello or a good-bye. She was still mad about that damn Hugo phone.

  No, she didn’t care about Dana. And the promotion was just a smoke screen to get her to shut up, that night at Sage.

  It was always “later Dana,” or “not now Dana,” or “can we talk about this later, Dana?”

  “Fuck me,” said Dana.

  She felt the temperature in the car rise. The windows were fogging up. Dana looked down and noticed her knuckles had turned white, gripping the steering wheel.

  She was done with Madison’s stalling. Did her big sister just think that she would sit around and wait forever for her to raise her up in the organization? She was smart. She could do stuff. She was family, damn it. Wasn’t that what counted most?

  “I’m done waiting.”

  She’d heard once, that power was never given, it was taken. She would take something. What, she didn’t know.

  “I’m getting mine.”

  It was ridiculous to think that Dana should just sit there like a good little girl and bow to Madison. She wasn’t the queen. Far from it, especially with all her drinking.

  Dana got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and stormed up to the mansion. Ravens scattered, sensing her rage. Gravel crunched with every step. Wind whipped across her ears as she broke into a sprint, bounding up the stairs and exploding through the front door. A hurricane-like gust of air flew in behind her, unsettling curtains, papers and plants.

  “I’m here to take my inheritance, Madison,” Dana shouted loud enough to be heard across the river. Her throat burned with the words.

  Today would be a reckoning. For the briefest moment, she thought about taking a torch to the mansion. That would teach Madison to underestimate her. What would the look on her sister’s face be when she saw the home Dana had died for, burning to the ground? What would Madison do? Nothing. She would collapse into a ball and cry her eyes out, broken and eventually realizing that Dana was the one with the real power.r />
  And Sarah? Sarah would back away when she saw the flames in Dana’s eyes.

  “Yeah,” she said, “you’d run away, too, once your Nancy Mosby temple is gone.”

  Dana’s first inclination was to go to the study with the gun safe. She didn’t know why. The safe’s handle wouldn’t budge. She should have the combination. Those were her guns too. Sara probably had the combination. The entire house was as much hers as it was Madison’s. But Madison treated her like a child, always watching her out of the corner of her eye. She probably had Margaret spying on her.

  Dana punched the safe, hard. She felt no pain. She wanted to knock it over, but that thing was bolted to the floor and the wall. It wasn’t going anywhere.

  She looked up at the stags’ heads mounted on the walls. They stared back at her with their fake, glassy eyes. They almost looked like they were smirking at her.

  Madison didn’t have the right to all of this. It was Dana’s too. But, big sis wasn’t going to share.

  Then it came to her. The thing Madison cared the most about. Dana would take that. She made for the basement.

  ***

  Unlike firearms, Madison did not lock up all the cash she brought in. That was probably because it would fill ten gun safes. People were always dropping by to leave anything from thick envelopes to shopping bags full of cash a couple times a week.

  Madison would take those packages and dump the wrapped bills into plastic storage bins in the basement. Then once a week, she’d load them up and take them to god knows where. She had to be laundering the money somewhere, but Dana had no idea where. She knew the Blue Dreamz bakeries were part of the masquerade, but that was over her head.

  It was so surreal. Millions of dollars were in the house at any given time. The temptation had always been there, to take a few fistfuls and run off to the casino or the mall, or start flashing her new wealth on social media. People followed money online. Maybe she’d make herself famous, one of those douche bag kids on Instagram or Snapchat.