Madison Mosby and the Moonmilk Wars

by Jason Winn

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Ask the pilot for me?”

  “I really don’t think I can just go up to him.”

  Madison slammed her hand on the table and shouted. “Ask him, goddamn it!”

  As she waited, Madison studied the men at the other side of the room. They had tried to break her father. She wondered how many tears were shed for Nancy Mosby’s disappearance. And as she looked at them she recognized a few of them. They had been the ones with Uncle Robard, meeting him at the mansion, her home, laughing and carrying on. They had drunk her liquor and plotted to take over Blue Petal.

  Madison looked over her shoulder to the lawyers. “Any of you touch any of the documents that declared Nancy Mosby dead? Be honest. I’m going to find out sooner or later.”

  A short man in a pinstripe suit leaned in close and said, “No, Miss Mosby. That action was taken by an outside law firm.”

  “Wow. That’s good for y’all.”

  Madison turned back to traitors’ row.

  Ms. Letcher came back on the line, sounding more exasperated than before.” He says we are over Kansas. What is this all about Miss Mosby? I have sales reports to go over before we land.”

  “Wow, you sound very busy,” said Madison. “I’ll start with you then. Please tell the pilot to modify his flight plan and land at the closest airport. Then, get your shit and get the fuck off my plane. You’re fired.” Madison clicked the end call button on the Polycom phone and turned to Julie. “I’m not joking. I want that plane on the ground. I don’t care what it costs. Kick her ass off of it and leave her on the tarmac.” She then looked up at the remaining traitors.

  “And as for you all, you can guess what’s coming next.” Madison stood leaning forward on table, cracking her knuckles against the wood. “You fucking, backstabbing traitors,” she shouted at the top of her lungs, “You tried to take over the company with Robard? And then when he died, you tried to get my father to give up and sell to some fucking Dutchmen. Not only are you fucking fired, but I’m going to ruin you. When Nancy Mosby left, you lost the fear of God. Well, I’m bringing it back.”

  A thunderbolt of confidence shot through her. The traitors scoffed and gasped. One old man’s face turned bitter and he looked like he was about to spit. Taking over Blue Petal had been a rush, terminating the men who broke her father and conspired against her family was better than the sweetest liquor she’d ever tasted.

  “Lawyers,” she barked. “I want these traitors so buried in lawsuits that their grandchildren are going to need lawyers. And, I don’t care if they’re clean as Clorox, find something to sue them over.”

  She turned back to the lawyers. “Any of you got a problem with that?”

  They all shook their heads. A few of them smiled like cartoon sharks.

  “Lionel Flint is coming back. Anyone gives him shit, you’re gone. Julie, try to put that in a company-wide letter that doesn’t make me sound like a total cunt. Then, take the next few days off. It’s going to get a little sporty in here, once Flint gets back. Call security and make sure the traitors there are stripped of everything that belongs to me. Call me if you need me, Jules. I’m out.”

  With that, Madison spun on her heel and walked out. It was time to go deal with the other threat, Contessa. That party was in five days. She needed to get ready.

  Chapter 75

  “Now, I need you to keep this a secret from your sister, for the time being,” said Margaret as she and Dana descended a narrow, staircase.

  “Why?” asked Dana as she tried to avoid touching the damp stone walls.

  “You’ll see.”

  They came to the bottom of the stairs, which had begun on the other side of a bookcase in the library. Margaret found a light switch and a sprawling wine seller was illuminated. The smell of mildew tickled Dana’s nose. She shivered in the cold, still air.

  Stone walls held scores of wooden shelves, filled with stacks of dust-covered bottles. Tangles of cobwebs hung from oak support beams. Water trickled in the distance. Dana crept close to a stack of bottles and made out the number 1865 on an age-worn label.

  Margaret shuffled across the rough tile floor. As Dana followed, she saw side rooms, branching off from the main hall; each filled with barrels and more stacks of wine bottles.

  “I can see why you never told Madison about this,” said Dana.

  “This was mainly your grandfather, Roy’s collection. He started with a few bottles after medical school and it turned into somewhat of an obsession. He used to say in private this was the largest collection in the western hemisphere.”

  “How much did he know about Nancy?”

  “Everything. I’m sure of it. Although I never heard them talking about magic.” Margaret turned into one of the side rooms. This one had no lights, only a faint green glow, coming from deep inside.

  “What did they talk about when they were alone?” asked Dana.

  Margaret stopped and turned. She wore a cold expression. “How much they hated the woman their son married.”

  “Huh. I never heard them say anything about mom.” Although that was no surprise to Dana. Helen was not the most likable person.

  And when your only child marries someone you hate, that was probably hard on a parent, Dana thought.

  “They kept their distance,” said Margaret, “but Helen was all they talked about when they were together.” Dana heard the strike of a match. “They never bothered with electric lights in this room”

  “Why?” Dana slowed.

  Water trickled from somewhere in the darkness.

  “I don’t think these things like the light,” said Margaret. “Well, come on child. There’s nothing in here that’s going to hurt you.”

  Dana wasn’t so sure about that.

  Margaret blew out the match, leaving the faint outline of her silhouette, towards the back wall, or at least what Dana hoped was the back wall. The sound of water grew louder as Dana inched forward. After a few more steps, she reached out and took Margaret’s forearm.

  “I wish Maddy could see this,” said Margaret. “But, there’s too much temptation down here for her.”

  She was looking at five green glowing crystals embedded in the stone wall. Water trickled in from a hole above the crystals, hitting one when forming into a perfect stream, flowing down to the next and so on. The water finally fell into a shallow pool on the floor, which also glowed green. To Dana the water looked like bright pond water and she hoped it wasn’t meant for drinking.

  Margaret bent over with a groan and picked up a small copper cup. She dipped it into the water and handed it to Dana.

  “This was one of your grandmother’s little tricks.”

  “Please tell me she washed her hands in that.”

  Margaret shook her head and made a drinking motion with the cup.

  “What does this do?” asked Dana.

  “She called it her fountain of knowledge.”

  “It makes you smart?” Dana liked that idea. Although, that wasn’t enough for her to drink pond water. She wondered what the source was and reasoned it was from the Potomac, which was heavily polluted.

  “You know all those books in the library?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nancy could recite them chapter and verse. Any of them. You could ask her to recall any page from any book up there and she could do it. I saw it. It was because of this. She could do the same with balance sheets, or tax returns, or speeches, anything.” She held up the cup again.

  The water looked normal enough. Dana held it up to her nose. It had an earthy smell to it, with hints of wet stone, almost like hose water. That wasn’t so bad, right?

  “Do I only have to drink this one cup?”

  “The more you drink the more it helps. Then after a while, you can drink less. At the end, I only saw your grandmother come down here once a year. You’ll figure it out.”

  “So, drink a lot then I eventually don’t have to drink it at all?”

  “Na
ncy called it ‘maintaining.’ But she drank gallons of this in the beginning.”

  Dana considered being smart. She always thought herself dumb. Being smart was for other people, like Shelby or Nancy. But what if she could be smarter than all of them? The prospect of knowing everything in all those books in the library was appealing. If that happened, Madison would have to respect her. She would need her. Dana could become indispensable. She liked the sound of that even more. A smile crept across her lips.

  She held her breath and downed the water. It was cold and tasted like hose water. It was actually kind of good. Dana knelt down and refilled the cup. Margaret gently took it from her.

  “Let’s take it slow at first. Oh, and you probably won’t be very tired anymore. Forgot to mention that. I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Wait, I won’t get tired in a few hours?”

  “More like a few days. How do you think Nancy managed to get so much done, running two empires?”

  “I always just thought she was really organized.”

  “She was, but she had a little help from this.” Margaret scooped up her own cup and drank it. “Haven’t had this in a while. So, once a day, you should come down here and take a drink. You need to do it, so Madison doesn’t see you. You’re just going to have to be careful. But, she’s always running off, so you should be fine. You’ll figure it out. And I’ll let you know when I see her take off.”

  “Okay.” Dana wanted to run up and see if she now had a photographic memory. “Does this work right away?”

  “I would give it a day or so. Sound good?”

  “Sure.”

  Dana thought for a moment, before asking, “Why not just fill the cup up and take it upstairs to Madison?”

  “That’s the little problem with these crystals. As soon as you take the water out of the pool it begins to lose its ability to help you. You need to do this, Dana. You need to start helping your sister out. Eventually, we can bring her down here and show this to her. In the meantime, you’ve got a lot of reading to do and potion videos to watch. There’s secrets buried in the library about the plants in the greenhouse and plants all over the world. Someone needs to know that. I hate to consider this, but one day this place could all be gone and someone has to carry the knowledge your grandparents spent a lifetime collecting. Robard almost threw everything away. Once I saw that, I figured one of you three girls needed to start studying it all.”

  Dana thought about her uncle and his attempt to sell the house, thus destroying any chance for her and Madison to discover the true legacy of Nancy Mosby. That car accident, while tragic, had been lucky.

  Perhaps too lucky, Dana thought.

  For the first time, Dana considered that maybe Robard’s death in that car accident, had not been an accident.

  Is his blood on your hands, Madison? She wondered.

  Chapter 76

  Weapons glinted under the display case lights. Contessa’s armory showcased ancient and exotic swords, armor and uniforms. Most had been acquired before husband Guido’s death. It was a museum of warfare and the only place in Bearing House where she refused to smoke, fearing that the smoke might damage some of the more precious artifacts.

  At the entrance of the great room, on a pedestal, stood a samurai in full battledress. His curved sword was held above his scowling headgear. Every inch of the armor was covered in bright blue enamel. His foot rested on a pile of skulls.

  To her left was a long case featuring crisp uniforms, studded with medals and insignia from various countries and eras. Each faceless black mannequin held a fully functional weapon, a Browning .50 caliber BAR, a Thompson machine gun, an AK-47, an M16, and so on. Each was meticulously cared for by the collection’s curator and armorer. While she saw little use in the weapons—none were magical—they had monetary value and there was no reason not to take care of them. Someday she could sell them if need be.

  To her right were racks of more primitive weapons, a slingshot, a pair of crossed spears and several longbows. These were mixed in with suits of armor made of chain and plate mail.

  Contessa stood before the room’s wall vault. She watched as the glass housing, the same as the glass that protected the Hope Diamond, was slowly opened by two of her men. They slid the Jitsuko’s O-washi uniform forward. They wore white gloves and removed the spirit suit’s display mannequin with the greatest of care. The jacket was opened and removed from its cedar stand. The golden dragons glinted from the display lights overhead.

  A butler entered. “Ma’am,” he said, “there is a pair of police officers waiting to tell you something quite urgent.”

  Contessa nodded without looking away from the O-washi uniform. “Bring me the jade box on the desk, in my office.”

  “Of course, ma’am.” With that, the butler scurried off.

  ***

  A moment later Contessa stood in the main foyer, staring at two plain clothes policemen.

  “Oh yeah, she’s dead,” said one of them. He was chunky with a fat face, covered in stubble.

  For whatever reason, she found it odd that he was unshaven, but she never fully understood what motivated the stupid ones. Maybe he was trying to grow one of those fashionable beards. Were police allowed to have beards? She looked at the other one, who was older and thinner with a bushy mustache.

  “When?” Contessa asked.

  “Few days ago,” said mustache.

  “Why didn’t someone call me?”

  “Boss thought it best to deliver the message in person. This is the first chance we had to come up here.”

  “And how did she die?” she asked.

  “Shot her.”

  “And?”

  “And what? We shot her. She’s dead. We’d like our money now.” There was a pause where Contessa just stared at the two of them.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen. That was rude of me to ramble on with questions. I would like to see some proof of the body.”

  “Like a finger?”

  And how would I know it was hers, idiot? she thought. “Anything really. You’re the experts.”

  The chunky one dug into his pocket and produced a phone. He tapped a few icons and showed the screen to Contessa. There, on a sidewalk, lay Madison Mosby. There was no mistaking her. The long curly brown hair, and black-rimmed glasses. She looked as though she’d just passed out. Then she saw blood on her shirt.

  An icy calm swept over Contessa, and she felt as though a giant thorn had just been removed from her side.

  “Good enough?” asked the chunky one.

  “Yes,” said Contessa. “You’re sure she’s dead?”

  “For the last time, yes.”

  Mustache cop produced a cell phone and punched in a number. “Hey boss, the job’s done. We’ve provided proof to the client.” There was a pause. “Hold on.” He held up the phone to Contessa. “He wants to tell you something.”

  Contessa took the phone. “Yes.”

  “Everything good?” asked Folger. “My boys tell me the job is done.”

  “Yes, they showed me a nice little picture.”

  “Good. There’s one more thing.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, we watched the former individual’s movements. You want her home address?”

  “I already have it.”

  “Anything you want out of it?”

  “My people will see to that. Care to tell me something I don’t know?”

  “I’ll warn you that it seems she added a bit of security before her untimely end. Also, a biker gang has been seen hanging around the grounds.”

  “I’m not worried about that.” Caymen was crazy enough to take care of ten biker gangs.

  “All right, then. Something you may want to be aware of, there seems to be something of theirs stored in an office building over by the White House.”

  “Really?” This was something new. “And how do you know they are storing something there?”

  “Because people don
’t normally move crates and barrels into offices, under construction, at night. That makes law enforcement types, like us, suspicious.”

  This intrigued Contessa. She could imagine what was in this place. And she had a good idea of who would be interested in it.

  “Do you have the address?”

  “Yeah, one of my men there will give it to you. Little extra bonus for you.”

  “I appreciate that. Usual payment terms acceptable to you?”

  “Of course.”

  Contessa hung up the phone. As she handed it back to the officer, she beaconed her butler over. He carried a jade box, no bigger than a hotel Bible. Contessa opened the lid, to reveal a debit card, tied to an account with one million dollars in it.

  The chunky one snatched it up, and the pair of them turned and walked out.

  ***

  With the cops paid and gone, Contessa stepped out onto one of her balconies, overlooking the gardens. She dialed Hector. Corrado appeared next to her but stayed silent.

  “What?” He sounded agitated. He always sounded agitated. What was it with Russians? Was there no joy in their life? Contessa would make him happy.

  “I have discovered the name of the person who attacked you.”

  “Don’t tell me it was Molden. He’s dead.”

  “Yes, I know. Shame, he’s no longer with us.”

  “You sound very upset. What a caring old bitch you are. Who is this person?”

  “Her name is Madison Mosby.”

  “Okay. And? Is this the Rose Widow you’ve talked about?”

  “Who can say?”

  “Where is she?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know. However, my sources tell me where she keeps her product.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “I’ll send you the address. If you find her, I’m sure she can be motivated to tell you how she made it.”

  “She will beg to tell me, I can assure of you that.”

  “Good. And my people tell me she’ll be there tomorrow night. But be careful, she has people protecting her.”

  “I think we can handle this Madison.”