Maggie and the Mourning Beads

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Maggie and the Mourning Beads Page 13

by Barbara Cool Lee


  "I guess we never thought about that part."

  "Oh, honey. You poor kids. You thought you were felons on the run, and you hadn't even committed a crime yet."

  She shrugged. "When I was arrested and they put me in jail, I first thought it was about that. Then, when I was told my mom was dead, and they thought we did it, I didn't know what to do."

  She paused, thinking about it. "I was willing to do anything for Grey. Lie, cheat, steal. Now I know that's what my mother was doing. All that driving me away was to protect me."

  "Charlie Vidal confessed to everything," Maggie said. "He told the police all about what he knew about your parents' marriage. Your mother was terrified of your father. And it made her so stressed she behaved badly."

  "She loved me," Willow said softly. "That's still hard to get, you know? That all the stuff she threw away—the pictures, the roses—"

  "—you?" Maggie added.

  "Yeah, me. All of it was her way of keeping us from being my father's target. But he still framed me for murder without blinking. And I never knew. I just thought he was distant. He never talked to me at all. He was gone a lot, and when he was around he just stayed in his man cave and worked all the time. Other kids complained that their parents didn't pay attention to them. I thought he just ignored me because he was like that." She turned wide eyes in Maggie's direction. "How did I not see it?"

  "I'm not an expert," Maggie said. "But I imagine that's the whole point of someone like that. They are good at covering their true nature."

  They sat for a bit, taking deep breaths of the fresh, beachy air. Willow played with her necklace, with its queen of death charms. "I want to get one of those rose charms," she said suddenly. "Is that okay?"

  "Of course it's okay," Maggie said. "That's what's nice about making jewelry. You can always change your mind about things and make a fresh start."

  "I'd like that," Willow said. She leaned over and rested her head on Maggie's shoulder, like a little girl.

  And they sat in companionable silence in the sunshine for a while longer.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She told Reese all about it when she got home. They were out by the pool, sitting in the lounge chairs.

  The wave sculpture rattled away next to them. A specialist in art restoration had properly superglued it back into its normal bizarre form, and it was as ugly and ridiculous as ever. But this morning the familiar clatter of metal didn't bother her, because the sun was shining and everyone she cared about was safe now, and maybe even happy.

  The pool sparkled and the filter burbled, and down on the beach below they heard a coach's whistle and girls' shouts and laughter as the volleyball camp got underway.

  But up on the cliff at Casablanca, there were just the two of them in their chairs, while over on the lawn, Shane and Jasper played together as the boy taught the dog the word Ball, which Jasper picked up on immediately, and tried to teach him to fetch, which only seemed to confuse her poor pup. Jasper cocked his head to the side and stared at Shane, and the boy laughed and went to fetch the ball, over and over again, while the dog sat and watched him with a quizzical expression.

  "I think he's teaching you to fetch," Maggie called out to Shane, and Jasper barked in agreement.

  Reese watched the boy with a more relaxed expression now, less of the urgent hunger he had shown all week. He leaned back in his chair and listened as she told about how Norris had pulled off the crime.

  The whole thing had been carefully timed, she explained, repeating the news Ibarra had given her when she'd gone down to make her official statement first thing in the morning.

  Alexis had searched for years to find a way to escape her sociopathic husband. She had finally gotten proof of his embezzlement from his architecture firm, and told him if he threatened anything she loved, she would go to the police.

  So Norris had devised the perfect way to stop her. He used another of his victims, his coworker Charlie Vidal, and thought through every detail with that clever predator mind of his.

  Charlie checked into the hotel in San Francisco in the morning, and made sure he was seen by the room service staff. Then he drove to Carita to commit the murder. After Norris established his own alibi by having a very public lunch in the hotel restaurant where he made sure he was noticed, he went to Charlie's room where he ate Charlie's room service meal, put the tray in the hall, and pretended to have a long meeting with him, including ordering coffee service for the two of them. Then he told the police he'd been meeting with Charlie all day to reinforce his alibi. Nobody thought twice about Charlie's whereabouts during the day, because he had never even met Alexis and would have no reason to murder her.

  "Like Strangers on a Train," Reese said.

  "Exactly. Nobody would even think to look at Charlie Vidal, because he had no connection to Carita. And nobody looked at Keith Norris, because he had the perfect alibi."

  "But how did you figure it out?"

  "He threatened Jasper. Over the stupid garbage cans. That's when I realized what he really was." Even now, Maggie felt the chill run through her at the icy way Norris had casually threatened Jasper's life. "I realized what was underneath the superficial nice guy routine. The only way to be safe from a monster like Norris was to not care about anything. Anything you love could be used against you. That's why Alexis destroyed anything she cared about. Her paintings. Her rose garden. Even her daughter—she had to pretend not to care or Norris would hurt Willow."

  They watched Shane and Jasper. Jasper was shirtless for the first time, trotting around a bit gingerly but having fun with his boy.

  "In the end, none of Alexis's frantic attempts to throw Norris off mattered. There was no escape from him. He killed her and framed their daughter."

  "And if you hadn't figured it out, he would have gotten away with it."

  The ball Shane was throwing for Jasper rolled onto the patio. Reese got up and grabbed it.

  "Toss it here, Dad," Shane said with a grin, and Reese grinned back.

  He threw the ball, and Shane tossed it back to him. Reese went out on the lawn and they played fetch with the dog for a while, laughing as they tried to get the dog to understand that the point was to bring the ball back, not play keepaway with it.

  Finally Jasper sprawled on the grass, and Shane threw himself down next to him. He rested his head against the dog's side, and the two of them lay there, panting and grinning.

  Reese came back and sat down in the lounge chair. He was quiet for a bit.

  "I can see why Alexis would do anything to protect her child," he finally said, quietly so Shane didn't hear. "If I lost my son…."

  "You did lose him, for a while. But you have a chance to build something now. Something good, that will last."

  "I hope so," he whispered.

  He reached a hand out for hers, then seemed to remember their platonic friendship pact, because he pulled it back.

  You have a chance to build something now. Something good, that will last. She reached for Reese's hand, and held onto it.

  They sat there for a long time, holding hands and watching the boy and the dog, and smiling.

  Maggie's about to face her biggest challenge yet. Read on for a sneak preview of the fourth book in the series, Maggie and the Empty Noose, available now.

  Maggie and the Empty Noose

  Exclusive Sneak Peek

  * * *

  August 18, just after dawn

  Carita, California

  * * *

  Stanley John Tibbets, known to the world as Reese Stevens, former rock star, current movie star, last year's number one box office draw, this year's Sexiest Man on the Planet, former drug addict, currently clean and sober for 4234 days, was awake.

  He came up to consciousness slowly, like swimming toward the light out of deep, swirling water. Finally he reached some semblance of alertness, to find himself face down in his own bed, and tangled in the sheets. His head felt like it had been kicked by steel-toed boots, and he was sweat
ing, the dampness making his hair cling to his scalp and his eyes sting as the perspiration ran down his face.

  Had he been sick? He turned his head a fraction of an inch and almost howled at the pain.

  With a huge effort, he kicked himself free of the damp sheets and turned over on his back, throwing his arms up over his face to block the baleful morning light glaring in the French doors at him and burning his eyes.

  His elbow hit something and he opened his eyes to see what it was.

  A pair of green eyes stared back at him.

  He knew those eyes.

  Knew them like you knew the eyes of a lover.

  Knew them like you knew the eyes of an enemy who was threatening everything that mattered to you.

  For the eyes belonged to the person who was both of those things: former girlfriend, current enemy, and the one person on earth he could truly say he wished was dead.

  Olivia Sigworth. Blond, beautiful, and evil. The mother of his child. The woman who called herself Olivia Stevens to capitalize on his fame. The woman who marketed their teenage son like a product to further her own ambitions. The woman he'd sworn to stop, at any cost.

  He would have said something to her, would have told her not to give him that look, that smug look she always gave him when she was feeling full of herself and was sure she could get away with pulling one over on him.

  But he couldn't find the words. His mouth was full of cotton, and his head roared like all the seas in the world were on top of him, pushing him under and churning menacingly all around him.

  It wouldn't have mattered.

  Wouldn't have mattered at all if he could have unstuck his tongue, worked it around in his bone-dry mouth, struggled through the confused thoughts bubbling in his brain to express some coherent message to the woman he hated more than anyone in the world.

  It wouldn't have mattered at all.

  Because those green eyes were empty. They were simply blind, glassy marbles with no thought or expression behind them.

  Because Olivia was dead.

  In his bed.

  With him.

  Get Maggie and the Empty Noose now, or save on the next three books in the series with the Carita Cove Box Set.

  The Carita Cove Mysteries

  Maggie McJasper is starting over in a little California beach town. She has a craft shop, a nice circle of friends, and a handsome movie star who keeps flirting with her. Life would be pretty great if she could just stop stumbling over dead bodies….

  * * *

  Maggie and the Black-Tie Affair

  A bored trophy wife. A cynical movie star. One evening to save an innocent girl from prison. None of them will ever be the same after this Black-Tie Affair.

  * * *

  Maggie and the Inconvenient Corpse

  A handsome movie star in her kitchen, and a corpse in the swimming pool. Just your typical Monday morning.

  * * *

  Maggie and the Mourning Beads

  Can Maggie find the real killer when her teenage student threatens to strangle someone with a jet-black necklace... hours before the woman is found dead?

  * * *

  Maggie and the Empty Noose

  When the handsome movie star renting Maggie's house is accused of murder, she's the only one who believes he's innocent. Now all she has to do is prove it.

  * * *

  Maggie and the Hidden Homicide

  Maggie faces her most confusing case yet when she finds a treasured beaded knife–in someone's back! Can she figure out what happened before anyone else ends up dead?

  * * *

  Maggie and the Whiskered Witness

  Maggie's dog-training buddy drops off her German Shepherd for a play date–then disappears. Soon Maggie begins to wonder if her friend could be leading a deadly double life.

  * * *

  Maggie and the Serpentine Script

  A nasty paparazzo is accused of murder, and Maggie is torn between relief that he's out of her hair—and worry that the police have captured the wrong man.

  * * *

  Maggie and the Rattled Rake

  Maggie's friend Nora is charged with trying to murder her younger boy toy husband, and Maggie is sure it's a bum rap. But to clear her friend's name, she's going to have to break a few laws herself….

  * * *

  And more to come. Click here for the latest booklist.

  The Pajaro Bay Mysteries

  Welcome to Pajaro Bay, the little California beach town where the cottages are cute, the neighbors are nosy, and it's always possible to find your personal Happily Ever After. The novels can be read in any order, or follow along from the beginning to see how the world develops:

  * * *

  Honeymoon Cottage

  A tiny beach town, a handsome sheriff, and a chance for a fresh start. Sure, there's a serial killer on the loose, but no place is perfect, right?

  * * *

  Boardwalk Cottage

  Hallie thought she'd spend a fun summer at a funky old amusement park. She didn't expect to become the key to solving a kidnapping plot!

  * * *

  Lighthouse Cottage

  Alone at a lighthouse with a handsome, sweet… murderer? Lori had better figure out what he's hiding before they both end up as shark bait.

  * * *

  Little Fox Cottage

  Deliver a dog to its new owner, they said. It'll be easy, they said. They didn't say anything about murder.

  * * *

  Rum Cake Cottage

  Roxy spent 10 years in prison for a crime she didn't commit. Now she's got 72 hours to find the real killer, or she'll lose her daughter forever.

  * * *

  Songbird Cottage

  The abandoned cottage with her grandmother's portrait on the wall is the first clue. Will Robin find the others before it's too late?

  * * *

  Sunshine Cottage

  Witness protection in a small town. If Teresa's cover is blown, she'll lose the best life she's ever known. Oh, and she'll die. That, too.

  * * *

  Riverstone Cottage

  A cynical private investigator—and former secret agent—finds himself in the sweet little village of Pajaro Bay, sipping blackberry tea with a hippie chick who raises goats. But when danger arrives in town, he has to figure out if the killers are after him—or the bohemian artist he's falling in love with.

  * * *

  And more to come. Click here for the latest booklist.

  Barbara Cool Lee writes the kind of books she likes reading: fun and heartwarming romantic mysteries where the good guys treat people with kindness and you can always count on a happy ending.

  She lives in a cozy cottage by the sea on the California coast. While she's writing her next book, she's got a loaf of sourdough bread in the oven, a pot of veggie soup on the stove, and the fog is billowing outside the windows.

  Be sure to sign up for her newsletter to get all the free short stories and be first to find out when the next book is released.

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