Christmas in The Sisters: A Holiday Mystery Novel (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 6)

by Becki Willis

  “Everything but your marriage,” Brash noted dryly.

  “By then, I’m not sure we even still had a marriage. Oh, we put on a show for the kids. Our friends knew there was something wrong, but once in a blue moon, we’d go out with another couple and pretend we still remembered how to talk to one another. I even quit going into the office, which turned out to be a monumental mistake on my part. Gwendolyn, as you might guess, was excellent at spending money. Our money, anyway. She just loved the concept of spending money to make money, or looking successful to be successful. Gray even gave her a spending account, of all things. In hindsight, I suppose it’s not uncommon to set your mistress up with some sort of compensation, but it came directly out of our business account, which was already suffering enough on its own. Hemorrhaging might be the better word. By the time I realized how bad things were, it was too late.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “You can imagine my surprise when I found out that Gray had taken out a second mortgage on our house. Care to gander what he spent the money on?”

  “Keeping the business afloat?”

  “Oh, no. He used our client’s money for that, which is a completely different topic altogether. With our money, including most of the money we had set aside to send the twins to college, he bought Gwendolyn a cozy little condo. Guess where that condo was? Five streets over, so he could easily split his time between houses. No need to spend all his time driving, when he could eat an occasional dinner with his wife and kids, slip out to see his girlfriend, and be back in time for breakfast the next morning. He usually just jogged over there, not even bothering with taking a car.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “No.” Her voice filled with shame. “I know it makes me look stupid. Looking back, I don’t know how I could have missed it. The neighbors had to have known. I mean, come on, five streets. And thankfully, the kids didn’t know, either. They didn’t know Gwendolyn was more than just Gray’s secretary. They didn’t know their entire financial security had been squandered five streets over, on a little love nest for their father’s mistress. They didn’t know their father didn’t really have insomnia. That, by the way, was his lame excuse for sleeping in the guest room and for going out on his late-night runs.”

  Her matter-of-fact delivery began to crack when she relived her children’s grief. “But then Gray died in a car wreck, and their world shattered around them. The least I could do was keep up the illusion. They didn’t need to know the sordid details. They didn’t need to know why she was in the car with him, or why we were losing the house, or why—why we had no savings, no big life insurance policy to fall back on.”

  “Sweetheart, you weren’t stupid,” Brash assured her, his deep voice rich with love and admiration. “And while I would love to sit here and talk to you more about what a brave and courageous woman you are for protecting your children that way, and about why I love and admire you so very, very much, I think it’s time we get out of here. So if you don’t mind, let’s save the rest of this discussion for another time.”

  “Good call,” Madison said with a nervous laugh. “And I think I can reach my phone now. The trouble is, I can’t see to use it.”

  “Then allow me,” said a cold voice from across the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Their heads jerked in the direction of the man’s voice, even though their eyes were still bound by the blindfolds. Neither had heard Barry Redmond step into the room.

  Brash cursed his own stupidity. He had been so caught up in Madison’s heartbreaking story, he hadn’t even heard the car approach. Love would be the death of him yet.

  “What a touching tale you weave, Your Highness,” Barry said, still trying to disguise his voice. “If it’s any consolation, your children will never have to know the truth. I promise, your secret will die with you.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Madison said with heavy sarcasm. “I never knew you to have a soft spot. Barry.”

  She wished she could see his face just then. Knowing his monumental arrogance, he probably thought his identity was a well-guarded secret.

  There was a moment of silence while the banker digested the fact that he was no longer incognito. Brash used the time to finish off the ties that once confined his hands. The ropes, however, were still snugly knotted, binding them both to the chairs and rendering him useless.

  “So. How did you figure it out?” he finally asked. Giving up the farce altogether, he spoke in his own voice, thereby acknowledging his identity.

  Madison waited for Brash to say something, but she could feel him making discreet moves behind her, still trying to work himself free. When he gently nudged her, she understood the message. He wanted her to do the talking, deflecting Barry’s attention away from him and therefore buying them more time.

  “There were a lot of little things. Your cologne, for one.” She couldn’t help but goad the banker, imagining the entertaining shade of purple he was sure to turn. “I know you have a lot of stank to cover up, but you really should go lighter on the cologne, Barry. It’s a bit overpowering.” She went so far as to sniff the air. “On the up side, it does manage to mask the reek of this rope, so for once, I actually approve of your heavy hand.”

  Behind her, she felt Brash’s chuckle, more than heard it.

  Unamused, Barry barked out, “What else?”

  “I connected the dots. Living in the city for so long, this is one of the things I forgot about small towns. Everyone is connected to everyone else, in one way or another. Take your cohort in crime, for instance, Molly Shubert. And yes, we know about Molly. She was once married to your cousin Randy, so apparently you two go way back. I hear you’re not only friends, but that she and her current husband own a substantial interest in your bank. She probably enjoys a bigger slice of the pie with Mr. Shubert than she would have with Randy, but that’s beside the point it. The point is, that makes you two business partners, in more ways than one. The bank is the legal connection. The drugs and gambling are the illegal connections.”

  “Sounds like you think you have it all figured out.”

  “There’s still a few unconnected dots here and there, but it’s coming together,” Madison said, sounding more confident than she felt. When Brash rubbed his head against hers, she first thought it was a warning. Then she remembered how loose he said his blindfold was. Most likely, he was using the traction to work it loose. Another gentle nudge of his shoulder encouraged her to continue talking.

  “I know Molly’s daughter was once married to Doug Havlicek. What I don’t know is whether that daughter is Randy’s child, but until I can connect those dots, let’s assume she is. That gives you a nice family connection to the Havlicek clan. We know you have a business connection to them through the drugs. And if I’m not mistaken, my guess is you also have a hand in the hotshot business they run. It makes a nice cover for delivering drugs, doesn’t it? With the oil industry hurting the way it is, I wondered how a business like that managed to stay afloat, until I remembered something my mother mentioned earlier. Gosh, was that just today? Or yesterday, I guess it is now. Anyway, she said my father did a couple of runs for them that made him very uncomfortable. You knew my father once worked for them, right?”

  “Yes, and I love it. A high and mighty Cessna, working for the Havliceks, of all people!” The touch of mania in his crowing laughter sent an ominous ripple of fear down Madison’s spine. She instinctively leaned into Brash for strength.

  “Those runs were with your friend Tom Haskell. Dad suspected they were delivering something illegal, so he quit his job after that. My father may be flighty, but for the most part, he’s a fairly stand-up guy. At any rate, that got me to connecting more dots. Illegal deliveries, Tom Haskell, gambling ring. Tom is the one who handles the gambling side of your operation, right? He even managed to do so from prison, which I understand is hard to do unless you can afford to bribe a lot of guards. You need a solid backer for that. Someone like a ba
nker, for instance. And of course, he’s connected to Molly from way back. I think they may even share a daughter together, Danielle Applegate. Is she part of this, too? That’s another dot I haven’t fully connected yet, but I’m working on it. How am I doing so far?”

  “I think you’re dotty.”

  Behind her, Madison felt Brash shift. If he felt it safe to move, he must know the room was still dark. She wondered if he were reaching for the gun tucked inside his boot. She kept talking, stalling for more time.

  Even though Barry couldn’t see her in the darkness, she shrugged the best she could while confined by the ropes. That’s when she noticed how loose they had become. She faltered out of sheer relief, before remembering not to tip their hand. “Uh… you’ve called me worse. In fact, that was probably the biggest tip-off of all. That time in the cave, you called me Your Highness. So did the slapstick Santas tonight. You’re the only person I know that calls me that, Barry. It’s like your own little special nickname for me.”

  “It’s not a nickname,” he snarled. “Nicknames imply affection. I have absolutely no affection for anyone in your family. I detest every one of you.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it before. Don’t you ever get sick of it? Don’t you ever just feel like moving on with your life? Everyone else has.”

  “Never!” he swore. “Juliet Randolph made my grandmother an outcast. A child born out of wedlock, because Darwin Blakeslee married Juliet instead of Naomi! It put a blight against my family name. Back then, such a thing was scandalous.”

  “Okay, we’ll go through this again, and maybe this time, some of it will sink in through that thick skull of yours. A) It happened over a hundred years ago. No one cares anymore. B) My family had nothing to do with it. We aren’t even blood related to Juliet, so this family feud of yours is ridiculous. C) Above all, I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t even born yet. And D) You have wasted so much time and energy carrying this gigantic chip around on your shoulder for your entire life. Without it, you could have had a normal and happy life.”

  “Really? You think so?” he sneered. “You were always popular in high school. You were one of the golden ones. A Cessna. Everyone liked you. Things were different for me. I had to buy my friends,” he spat bitterly. “I still do!”

  “That’s because you’re a jerk, Barry, not because your grandmother was born out of wedlock!” Madison threw back at him.

  “It doesn’t matter what you say. Tonight, you and your boyfriend are going to die.” His cold voice advanced in the darkness, alerting his captives he was moving closer. He continued with his mad rant. “He’s another one of the golden ones. I don’t know what my ancestor Bertram Randolph was thinking, giving a third of his plantation to a Mexican immigrant that worked for him!”

  “FYI, the deCordovas are from Spain. And you really didn’t listen during Texas history, did you, Barry? It so happens the Mexicans and Spaniards were here first. Andrew deCordova wasn’t an immigrant; he was a hardworking and valuable employee who earned your great-great-grandfather’s respect and gratitude. He knew Andrew would take care of the land and keep it prospering. He certainly couldn’t depend on his squabbling daughters to do so.”

  From the darkness, Barry shone a bright light directly at her. At such close range, she could feel the heat of the beam upon her skin. Some of the brightness filtered through the blindfold she wore. “There you go, bad mouthing my family again!” he hissed. He reached out and ripped the material from her eyes, snatching out a handful of hair with the knotted fabric. Madison yelped in pain. She turned away from the light, certain she was not only blind, but also now bald.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he screamed. “I’m going to teach you some humility before you die. When I’m done with you, you won’t be a princess anymore.”

  She lifted her face toward him, but stubbornly kept her eyes shut.

  “I never claimed to be a princess, Barry. But at least I’m not a toad, like you. That was the real clincher to revealing your identity, you know. I asked myself who was mean enough, and rotten enough, to steal Christmas presents from beneath people’s trees? Who was greedy enough, and unconscionable enough, to head up an entire drug and gambling ring, no matter the damage it inflicted on other people? You’ve destroyed people’s lives, Barry, with your greed and your sick, twisted mind.”

  “I’m the richest and most powerful man in The Sisters,” he boasted. “In the entire county. It’s been worth every sorry soul I had to sacrifice to get here. Even my own.”

  “You don’t have a soul, Barry.”

  Her cavalier response enraged him. He slapped her so hard, her face jerked to one side. The noise resounded in the silence of the room.

  The ratchet of a gun, loading a bullet into its barrel, was even louder.

  “Touch her again,” Brash ground out, his voice as hard as granite, “and I’ll put a bullet through that sick brain of yours.”

  Barry jerked his light to the empty chair behind Madison. “Where—”

  He got no further. With a deft move of his hands, Brash knew just the right pressure points to engage.

  Barry Redmond crumpled to the floor in the sorry, undignified heap that he was.

  “Brash!” Madison cried, jumping from the chair. Her hands were still bound and her phone slid to the floor, but the ropes fell from around her when she stood. “Oh my gosh, Brash, I was so scared!”

  He held her to him in a tight squeeze. “You didn’t act it. You were brilliant, Maddy. Brilliant! You probably saved our lives. Find your phone and call 9-1-1. Give me mine and I’ll call, too, just as soon as I tie up this sorry piece of trash.”

  “I don’t even know where my phone is,” she fretted, too confused to think straight. “I can’t see in the dark. Oh, there’s my phone. Wait. Why is a light flashing?”

  Cutter’s voice floated through the darkness, from the vicinity of the doorway. “Because you’ve been live-streaming your conversation with Barry on the internet,” he told her in amusement. “We couldn’t see anything, but man, did we get an earful! Y’all okay in here? Where are the lights in this pile of junk?”

  “Not connected. We need flashlights,” Brash said, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he wound the smelly rope around Barry’s prone body.

  The fireman pulled a flashlight from his back pocket and pointed all nine hundred lumens at the ceiling, effectively lighting the entire room. “I didn’t know what the situation was, so I walked in. The truck’s back on the road.”

  “Good thinking. Call dispatch, tell them I need to set up a raid on Shubert Pharmacy. Better yet, call Vina at home. She’ll know what to do. Tell her I need a search warrant and a SWAT team.” Finished with Redmond, Brash finally looked up at his friend, who was already dialing his phone. “You want in?” he asked.

  “You bet I do!” Cutter grinned. The phone connected and he turned serious. “Sorry to wake you, Miss Vina, but we have an emergency.”

  Across the room, Madison found her phone and turned off the live transmission button. “What did I do?” she wailed in despair. “I tried to call 9-1-1, but I couldn’t see what I was doing. How on Earth did I manage to transmit over the internet?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m glad you did, sweetheart,” Brash laughed. “You just broadcast his confession to the entire world. There’s no way Barry Redmond can buy himself out of this one.”

  “I guess he didn’t see the light on the phone. I was trying to keep it hidden.” She rambled for a moment before she said worriedly, “What about the others, Brash? We have to stop them, too.”

  “Toss me my phone. I’ll take it from here. And Maddy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you, woman.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Maddy ran to him and threw her still-bound hands around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. “I love you too.” After a long and thorough kiss, she whispered, “Now, please cut me loose.”

  ***

 
; By the time daylight broke, the people of Naomi and Juliet were in shock.

  Two of their most prestigious citizens were in custody, denied bail by a very cantankerous judge who had been awakened at two thirty in the morning to issue a search warrant. The pair was thrown behind bars alongside Bernie and Doug Havlicek, Dickey Fowler, Jaclyn Gonzales, and a half-dozen other accomplices rounded up in the raid. Tom Haskell was on the run, but it was only a matter of time before they hauled the career criminal back to Huntsville. Dickey had no problem rolling on him, telling the investigators anything they wanted to know, in hopes of cutting a deal.

  Being among such common riffraff, as Granny Bert called them, was too much for Barry’s ego to bear. When he tried but failed to hang himself with the bedsheets, it earned him a padded cell away from the others.

  With Christmas now just three days away, Madison had no time to dwell on events from the night before. She had wrapping to do!

  None of the gifts in Brash’s truck had been fatally damaged or came up missing, so she had that to be thankful for. She locked herself and all her gifts inside her suite of rooms and went on a wrapping frenzy. By the time Brash stopped by, worn and weary after thirty-eight hours on his feet, she was officially done. With his help, she transferred the presents downstairs and placed them beneath the family tree in the media room.