The Thomas Girls: Book 4 of the Adelaide Henson Mystery Series

by William Cain

  “And mine is Donna Lynn McGariggle,” Reggi adds.

  “We thought you could use a little pin money. You’ll find a debit card linked to an account in your new names. Each has around twenty thousand dollars in it,” Greg tells them.

  It’s a happy day, and Greg suggests, “Why don’t we go shopping for some new clothes? Maybe some dinner?”

  The group heads to the garage, which Greg opens. The girls notice the SUV they arrived in is gone from the driveway. “We’ll take your new ride. My men have done away with the other one. Nothing to trace you here now. You are completely safe.”

  Later they return home, exhausted from the very long day behind them.

  Greg explains, “In two days I leave for Asheville. The director there wants me to look at and possibly take on a new case.”

  Then with an air of self-importance, his voice almost changing, straining somewhat, “It appears I have made some high profile moves and I’ll spread my work between there and Atlanta. My director there won’t be too pleased about it. But he’ll get over it.”

  Both Reggi and Madison notice this odd change in behavior. Just as quickly, the old Greg returns and Reggi excuses herself to return to her bedroom and dress for the night.

  Greg turns to Madison. Taking her hand in his, he gently rubs the top of it with his thumb, “I guess this is where we say good night.”

  “Thanks for all you’ve done, Greg. It’s meant the world to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “If you don’t feel quite safe yet, I could stay the night,” Greg offers.

  “There’s only the sofa, and I’m pretty sure you’d find that uncomfortable. You’re taller than that is long. You’d have the worst sleep of your life,” Madison jokes.

  Still holding her hand, “There is your room.” He suggests.

  Madison grasps the meaning of his words and where this is going. As she begins to pull away, he holds her hand in a much firmer grip, causing Madison to stop and look at Greg, her eyes wide.

  After a pause, with the two staring at each other, “There is your room,” he repeats.

  Madison is not easily manipulated and she uses her training she learned in the Underground and her training as being a woman. She knows how to defend herself, and she knows how to bring this situation down to earth.

  She playfully slaps his hand, maybe a little too hard. Surprised, he pulls it away as she tells him, “Nice try. Now, it’s up to you mister. Go find a hotel and we’ll see you in the morning.” Before he can say anything else, he has been marched out and finds himself on the other side of the front door. It all happened so fast, he doesn’t know if he should be angry, embarrassed, both, or what. He reaches for his cell phone to find car service and walks out to the street under the night sky.

  Inside, Madison leaves the front door and takes the short walk to her bedroom. It’s been a long day and she wants a shower and nightclothes, and maybe watch a show or something. As she rounds the corner, Reggi is standing there, her arms folded across her chest, her expression judgmental. Startled, Madison screeches quietly, “Yikes Grandmother! What are you doing?”

  “Eavesdropping, my dear granddaughter. I heard that whole exchange. You don’t find that man a little strange?”

  “Everyone’s strange at times. Listen, Grandmother. I trust him. He’s helped us. He got us here.”

  “You trust him, Madison?”

  “Yes, I trust him. I trust he’ll take care of us and carry out the mission of the Underground. I trust him here when he’s with us.”

  “I see. So, you trust him. Let me ask you this then. Would you trust him if you were alone with him?”

  Madison’s world just became infinitely smaller, and she stares at her grandmother, for a long time.

  Slowly, Madison replies. She opens her mouth to speak. As she does so, she’s unsure of what she’ll say, and she realizes her answer is as disturbing as it is truthful.

  “No.”

  The old lady’s right.

  2

  I was adored once too. William Shakespeare

  Frank and Adelaide are in the pool, unwinding after a hectic day that began very early. Downtown Asheville, Five Points, is where they’ve decided to live, close to her stationhouse and a short drive to the airport for Frank’s days away. Today is warm and the water is inviting. They’ll work up an appetite and shake off the never-ending work, turn their attention from it and focus on each other. Hopefully, their evening won’t be interrupted by this fire or that. Addie’s got ideas of her own, and she sports a mischievous glance when Frank isn’t watching.

  Frank swims one more lap and moves toward Adelaide, smiling. Reaching out, he holds her close, bringing her to him, his arms wrapped around her waist, suspending her in the cool waters, her chin resting on his shoulder. Moving through the pool, he sets her free and they drift together.

  “Did you see that couple arguing under their breath?” she asks. “It looked like they were arguing, anyway. I see them here a lot and they never seem to get along.”

  “I ignore it, Adelaide. I don’t want it to ruin my swim. But, you’re right. I’ve seen them before. It gets more heated each time. They think people don’t notice but they do. At least they aren’t close neighbors. I wouldn’t want to hear what goes on in their apartment late at night.”

  “Well, that’s all the excitement we need. Looking around, what you see is two men playing backgammon, and the pool is all ours. Those two guys are politicians. Humdrum,” and she places her free arm around Frank’s neck, coming in close for a kiss, and with it she slides her tongue across his lips.

  Frank's eyes remain closed and he grips her gently. Adelaide’s a good kisser, and the romantic desire between them is as strong as the first day they met. When their lips part, he finds she’s breathing deeply. Resting her chin once again on his shoulder, she quietly tells him, “I think we’ve never been closer.”

  Frank is mesmerized as they disengage, staring into each other’s eyes. Her deep green pools tell him what he already knows, and he gives her back the same, many times over. It’s been a rough two years, at times, and made their relationship stronger, those bumps in the road. They see that in each other’s eyes, too. It’s their commitment to each other that has brought them through rough passages, and their love remains solid, their narrative more compelling with each passing day.

  No one pays attention to their story anymore. They’ve blended into this exclusive complex among the white-collar elite, local arts scene bigwigs, elected officials, and the like. The gossip about the way they met is old news. The public eye has moved on to more relevant, juicy bits. Back then, Addie would give the gossipers lip service once the tongues started wagging, telling one prying resident, ‘What do you know, you’ve been divorced five times!’ and another, ‘You don’t know what you want! You had so many flings with so many women, and now you say you’re gay’. She’s blunt, direct, and not shy.

  Done with the pool, Frank and Adelaide take the path through the inner courtyard to their apartment on the other side, facing the garden. She’s a striking figure in her tight bikini, as is he in his beach shorts. The two of them are no longer kids, but gravity hasn’t had its way yet. Once inside, she’s drying her hair and eyeing him, naughty thoughts crossing her mind. She thinks about the other morning on the weekend a few days ago. Frank is a very gifted lover. She took a nap later in the day, so exhausted as she was. She hopes she is with child soon.

  Adelaide has some plans cooked up to get Frank in the mood, if he isn’t already. Once he steps out of the bath with a towel wrapped around his waist, his beach shorts hanging in the shower, she tells him, “About the other day when you were talking about John Paulson…”

  From the expectant expression on Frank’s face, Adelaide knows she has his full attention. Then she slyly thinks, He’ll never see this coming, as she readies the next bit, setting the bait. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t kill those two victims in Florida and Texas, either.”

  Frank wa
nts to hear more, and he asks, “What made you change your mind?”

  Adelaide is bursting on the inside, on the verge of laughing maniacally at what she’s about to do. It’s the ultimate foreplay. She’s a good actress and he doesn’t suspect anything as she innocently says, “He’s too tall.”

  “What? Too tall? How does that figure into the equation?” Frank is stumped and unsure where she’s going with this.

  “Let me show you,” and Adelaide reaches for one of two nerf bats kept in the nearby linen closet, in the corner. As she does, she brushes by him, her breasts grazing his chest suggestively as she squeezes by.

  “Serial killers don’t normally stand on ladders when they beat their victims to death, Frank,” and she gives her best you’re a dunce look. Squeezing past him again, she performs the same move as before. The point is not lost on him as she adds a soft sweep of the nerf bat across his bottom, her green bedroom eyes telling him all he needs to know.

  His look when she stands bikini-clad before him with the soft, foamy bat says If she kisses me the way she did in the pool, I’ll probably explode.

  “Let me show you, Frank. The police reports said the attacker fits the profile of a person between five foot three and five-eight. John Paulson is six feet tall, as were the victims. The reports also said the point of impact indicates an upward brush, like this.”

  And that’s when she does it. She takes the nerf bat and swings it with all her strength into Frank’s jawline, sweeping upwards. It doesn’t really hurt, but Frank’s expression is priceless as he just stares at her, a grin beginning to form.

  “Why did you do that?”

  Ignoring him, her mischievous smile harder and harder for her to suppress, she continues, “If I were a taller person, the impact would be more like this!” she says loudly as she swings the bat once more, striking him squarely in the face as hard as she can, as level as she can make it.

  He winces and starts laughing once he sees her wide smile, “You little witch. You’re gonna get it now!” and he reaches for her, careful to avoid the nerf bat he’s sure she’ll be swinging again.

  But he’s too late. She yells out, “And this is how that kid Jimmy took it!” She swings at the back of Frank’s head, smacking it with all her strength, and starts running for the bedroom.

  Frank picks up the other nerf bat and begins to run after her, but Adelaide’s good. She’s used her free hand to untie her bikini top as she’s running for the door of their room. He can hear her shrieking in excitement as he runs after her, and he realizes he is very turned on. He starts laughing gutturally, wanting her to hear him coming closer and closer.

  When he reaches the door of their room, he stops, and peeks around the corner of the door jamb, careful to avoid being struck again. She’s near the bed, and he steps through the doorway. She’s standing there, legs parted, around ten feet away, panting. Pulling another knot loose, her top floats to the floor, her wet curly brown hair framing her breasts, and she drops her little toy bat. His eyes run up and down her body, and he can feel his mouth become dry, a hunger settling in.

  He can’t take his eyes off her as she pulls a string to her side and the bikini bottom softly falls away. Her smoky eyes and parted, full lips leave him stunned. She is beautiful and finely toned and he wants her right now, more than anything else in the world. Wants to taste her mocha skin, and run his lips along her neck, his hands free to explore and more.

  She takes a few steps toward him, this fine man she has come to love so much. When she takes his hand in hers, his eyes widen at her touch. She takes his fingers and places them on her hip. He begins to run them up and down as she breathes huskily, deeper, and more fully at his caress. With his other hand, he reaches for her inner thigh and begins searching. Slowly. Closer and closer.

  She sits on the foot of the bed. Before she lays back, she tugs at his towel softly and it gives way, dropping to his feet. She looks up at Frank as she reaches for him, holding him.

  The only sound is their deep breathing.

  Behind him, Frank reaches for the wall switch, flicks it, and the room darkens.

  He joins her.

  ◆◆◆

  Later, they lay satisfied in each other’s arms. Night is falling, the dim light from their bedroom window fading with each passing minute. The two of them speak in hushed, whispered, inside voices. They speak about silly things, leaving the important life moments for another time. Somehow, they’ve tuned into each other, and know when to do this or that, and when not to. Neither wants to mention the D word – dinner that is. That would mean leaving the sheets, and the sanctity of their love.

  But it has to be done. The night isn’t over yet. Each still has a few things they need to do as part of their routine. They know they aren’t on vacation, and tending to the business at hand while also taking time to relax will fill their remaining evening hours. When the time is right, they leave the covers and head to respective sinks to wash up and don nightclothes. Tonight is dinner-in, having had enough of salty and fatty meals away from home, or worse yet – takeout.

  In the kitchen, while preparing a dinner of paprika chicken and corn on the cob, their conversation naturally turns to family. They speak of Frannie, Frank’s only son from his first marriage, and how he’s running the New York tax planning business. His wife Agatha is building a reputation in the NYPD, expecting to take the sergeant’s exam in a year or two, and making detective after that. She has big plans. Addie’s heard she’s taking special training.

  Adelaide can read Frank’s mind sometimes, especially when he’s being shamelessly coy. What she reads right now she doesn’t even need to look into his eyes to confirm, as she says, “Go ahead. Ask away about him.”

  Frank grins sheepishly, “So, what are you going to do about my Dad? I mean John Paulson?” In Las Cruces, they came away with John Paulson only. Adelaide thought he was the killer they had sought. The other, mysterious person in shabby clothes and wide hat got away, just vanished. And now, they might find Paulson didn’t do the killings in Panama City Beach and Tyler, Texas, leaving her empty-handed after all that work.

  “Oh, he’s your Dad now?”

  Frank’s not embarrassed, “He is my natural father. When you arrested him in Las Cruces, I was as startled as you were. But if you don’t think he murdered those men, then why are you still keeping him?”

  “I can’t release him until his DNA proves him innocent. The blood from the Tyler victim’s knife and Paulson’s lab results will come back soon and then we’ll let him go. It’s the way it’s done. Until then, you know where to find him and you can speak with him every day. Can I ask you something, Frank?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you becoming close with him? I mean, you didn’t really know him for over forty years. Now, he’s back in your life. You don’t really know him.”

  Frank gives thought to her words. “I think I want to make up some of that time. I think he wants it, too.” Then Frank looks at Addie, to make plain his reasoning. “He’s eighty years old. It’s now or never.”

  Adelaide reflects on Frank’s family history. Decades ago, Frank’s mother, Reggi Thomas, fled with Frank and his two sisters, away from John Paulson and the endless fighting and abuse. Years later, Reggi’s fragile mental state led her to kill Elsie Battaglia and she was incarcerated at Woodside Psychiatric. Now she’s on the run and Paulson is incarcerated for murder. Frank thinks Paulson’s slowed down. The fight’s gone out of him. He suspects there may be something wrong with him.

  “He doesn’t look well,” Frank tells her, somewhat sadly.

  “Frank, stop being so down about things. We know your mom is out there with Madison. She’s safe. You want a relationship with John Paulson, go for it.”

  “Just be careful,” Adelaide adds.

  “Sure, hey I think dinner’s ready. I’m famished.”

  “Me too, tough guy.”

  Each takes a plate, filling it from the stove where the chicken and corn are wait
ing, and sit at their breakfast bar. Settings have been placed there along with drinks and condiments in order to share a simple meal together, making meaningless small talk that couples share easily.

  When they’ve finished, Frank takes a seat in the living room and reads, his sleepy eyes losing focus, the comfort of the bed calling to him.

  Adelaide also feels the sheets calling, but wants to check her reports first. She monitors the nation’s murders and searches a national database, looking for killings with a familiar modus operandi, like beating someone’s face in with a bat. It’s a sure-fire way to find the girls. Roger, her tech-nerd, set up the auto-search, and she scans them religiously every night.

  Disappointed, she finds Frank in the living room, reading, nodding off. She startles him slightly when she reports, “Nothing found, but there will be. This won’t come to an end until your mom is sent back to Woodside.”

  Continuing on, she adds, “I’m going to catch the killer, I feel it. I just need one break. We’re going to find Madison and Reggi, too. Sergeant Haines in Tyler is my eyes, my way in. He’ll be my break. He’s connected and knows a lot of people. He’s watching that man, Jimmy, that Madison is so interested in. The last time I spoke to Madison, I asked why he wasn’t killed along with the victim. When Madison spoke about Jimmy her voice changed, ever so slightly. Women know each other. We see things that men don’t. Even though she was there in Tyler less than two months, Madison and Jimmy made a connection, a strong one. Madison’s in love with him. Madison didn’t know him that long, but her love for him will be her undoing. Anyway, Haines, he checks in regularly, weekly. It’s cleared through his captain, Boyer.”

  She stops talking when her cell’s ringtone announces a new text. When she opens her cell, she sees it’s from Sergeant Haines. She gets a text from him almost every evening around this time, but this time is a little different, and it’s not ho-hum.