Maddie climbed into bed still wrapped in the quilt. She needed for Lena to believe her so that they could deal with Toliver on even ground. It might be the only gift she could give to her.
As she closed her eyes the image of the poster came to mind. The picture drawn of her dapper father was accurate. It was the words below the picture in smaller print that turned her blood cold and kept sleep from coming until well after midnight.
Last seen in the company of a woman, assumed to be his daughter, acting as an accomplice.
She is above-average height with light brown hair and brown eyes.
Chapter 21
When Maddie walked into the kitchen the next morning, eyes red from lack of sleep, she found Evan and Lena heads together bent over Lena’s ledgers. She checked the wall clock, thinking perhaps she’d woken too early. Evan should be at work.
"Oh, Maddie, please have a seat." Evan stood quickly, pulling out a chair for her.
They sat across the table, staring at her in a manner she found unnerving. "What is it? Is Jessie all right?"
Lena’s face relaxed a little. She shook her head, smiling. "She's fine. I'm sorry, we're both just a little stunned that the experiment with David worked as you predicted. You were correct."
"Thought he was going to pull his ear off." Evan chuckled. "Poor man must really hate cornbread. Like me and spinach, I guess."
Maddie relaxed and poured herself a cup of coffee, smiling in spite of her anxiety. Maybe what she’d told Lena had been enough to convince them. Perhaps they wouldn't press her for more proof or worse, ask how she’d acquired the ability.
"You have an interesting skill, Maddie," Lena said. "If you told me you had second sight, I think I’d believe you."
Maddie nearly burned her tongue. She took note of Lena's white knuckles, gripping her teacup, not unlike her own. Maddie couldn’t trust herself to look at either of them, but said quietly, "I suppose it can be useful."
Evan leaned forward, elbows on the table. Maddie could feel his gaze intent upon her. "I can think how useful it'd been in a few dealings I had with folks, horse dealers in particular." He gave a mirthless laugh.
"You told me that you were convinced Mr. Toliver was lying," Lena said.
"Yes. I'm quite certain. I don’t think a buyer is waiting in Pocatello. Or if he is, the deal isn’t what he implies. I think he wants to put pressure on you to raise your offer."
Lena matched her husband's position, both of them searching her face, as though they had their own means of reading faces. "But you weren't in the room at the time. How could you tell from just his voice? David, I could understand. You’ve watched him and learned his mannerisms, but Toliver. . ."
Maddie blew out a heavy breath. "People who know they are going to lie to you and have time to rehearse the lie speak in a particular manner."
After a long moment, Evan said, "Go on."
She bit her lip, then said, "Can you remember how he spoke like a . . .a preacher or. . .a politician? He never said words like can't he said cannot or we will instead of we'll."
Lena frowned. "But surely that isn't enough. I talk formally at times. Besides, not all preachers are liars."
Evan added wryly, "Can't say the same for politicians."
How much would she have to reveal? "Do you recall how long-winded he was when he told you about the investor, how he went on about the man's ranch acquisitions and the whole story about the Texas cattle drive? An honest man would simply tell you the fact that he had another man interested in the property. When people are trying to con you, they'll overload you with details."
She watched them digest this bit of information. She guessed they were replaying the conversation from the previous day. "There are other patterns of speech and terms. They'll say things like, 'to be honest', or 'truth be told'.'"
Maddie chewed her lip. Realizing how close to her own lie she had come, she held her breath to see how they would recall the detailed explanations she’d given to them in those early days.
Lena and Evan sat quietly, their eyes still fixed on her. Maddie did her best not to break from their gaze, a sure indicator of her own deceit.
Lena broke the silence. "I do remember."
Evan's brow creased, "I just thought he was bragging about their offer."
Maddie spoke softly, the slightest tremor in her voice. "It was for your benefit, to make you believe in his story. It's what a con man does."
"Conned. It isn't a very nice word, is it?" Lena pushed away from the table, rising to her feet. She faced Evan, arms folded before her. "So, what do we do now?"
A slow smile crept across Evan's face. He looked up at Lena then turned to Maddie and said, "Well, if this was poker. . ."
"You'd call him," Maddie finished quietly.
Along her route to the bookstore her somber mood was momentarily broken by a chorus of bird song, declaring the surety of Spring. But Maddie's eyes dropped to her feet in the next moment, heart heavy with the promise she’d made. Meeting with the widow and her brother only delayed the inevitability of her departure.
What was wrong with her? Instead of disappearing she persisted in making herself more visible. Notice me, she seemed to be saying with every action and every relationship. This was not what her father meant by disappearing.
Looking at those lavender lace cuffs peeking coyly from her jacket sleeve, reminded her of her foolish and imprudent behavior. She chastised herself for yielding to her vanity. Instead of being content with the drab clothing she'd first purchased, she'd returned and purchased the blouse that she'd admired that day.
It was harder to disappear than she'd ever imagined. However, she found the description written on the wanted poster—average in nearly every way, though not flattering, did play to her advantage for anonymity. What else in the description gave her away? Her height? How conclusive was that?
By the time she'd arrived at the shop, her mood had lifted sufficiently to appreciate a song bird perched in a tree outside the front door, giving full voice to the morning. "Sing as loud as you wish, little brown bird. Your song will attract a mate even if you are plain." She smiled to herself. Perhaps she should try writing poetry.
"Oh, I am so glad to see you, Madison. Come quickly! I purchased a crisp new apron for you to wear for our gala opening today." Mrs. Wilkinson, hair done up in the latest style, dressed in taffeta and lace, cheeks pinched to a rosy glow, looked prepared to host a ball. This event would be her tour de force in Ketchum society.
Mrs. Wilkinson rushed back to the door as Maddie tied on the white lace apron. Two men entered the shop, and Mrs. Wilkinson directed them with a wave of her hand. "Quickly now. Place a tray there and there."
Maddie marveled at the appearance of assorted sandwiches and finger desserts carried in by the two men she recognized as cooks from the cafe. This event appeared to be taking on the air of a theatrical opening instead of that of a humble bookshop. An array of a dozen teapots perched on the counter. She wondered if the shop were large enough to accommodate Mrs. Wilkinson's expected guests.
When the men, grinning at the generous payment in their hands, had left and twelve teapots were filled, Mrs. Wilkinson folded her arms before her and gave Maddie a gleeful grin. "I think we're ready!"
By the time she opened the shop at ten, a colorful parade of women dressed in peach, plum and daffodil satins most trimmed in crisp lace filed through the freshly painted door. By noon the interior bustled with the gaiety of feminine conversations and festive sounds of china cups ringing against saucers, giving the affair the impression of a well-attended temperance meeting. Each new guest was immediately presented with a teacup for one hand and a plate of cake for the other. Maddie soon saw the disadvantage in that no one had a free hand with which to pick up a single book.
Making countless trips between the hardware store and the book shop, Maddie was convinced she'd transported no less than a dozen gallons of hot water to fill Mrs. Wilkinson's numerous teapots. Her feet sent vociferou
s complaints to her brain with each trip.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, Mr. Wilkinson observed, "I'm already ruminating about where to install a kitchen stove in there. If she keeps having these soirees, I'll need to install an indoor privy too." He chuckled all the way back to his counter.
By closing time, Maddie calculated that discounting the box of books Mrs. Wilkinson had donated to the school, they had barely covered the expenses of the catered sandwiches.
However, hands on her hips, a look of supreme satisfaction shining on her face, Mrs. Wilkinson announced, "I think it was a marvelous success!"
Despite her weariness and aching feet, Maddie walked back to the boarding house eager for the meeting with Mr. Toliver. While the threat of exposure should have been foremost on her mind, instead, the idea of matching her talents against that of Mr. Toliver’s stimulated her. Her pace quickened. She'd prove to herself that her gift could be put to good use.
When she spied the buggy in front of the lodging house she feared she might have arrived too late. Once inside, she saw that here, as in the bookstore, the niceties of tea were the focus of the hour.
Lena greeted her as she entered the hall. "Madison, please come join us. Mrs. Wagner, this is our newest house resident, Miss Madison Alexander. Mr. Toliver, Miss Alexander. I hope you don't mind if Madison joins us for tea. She's put in a long day at Mrs. Wilkinson's bookshop. How did it go? Did you have many customers?"
Lena's eyes were sparkling with excitement. Maddie could only guess that she and Evan had prepared themselves for the poker game ahead and were feeling confident with the hand they held. Maddie felt less sure of the outcome. A good con man could smell a trap.
"We had an excellent turnout. I think Mrs. Wilkinson was pleased." Maddie focused on her cup until the attention of the widow and Mr. Toliver shifted to business. At that moment, Maddie kept her eyes glued on the man, her senses alert to every nuance of body movement and vocal intonation. She would do what she did so very well. Listen, watch and deduce. She had a sudden picture of Dr. Reynolds skeptical face. He had no idea of how intimately acquainted she was with this world of crime and deception.
Mrs. Wagner’s brow was deeply creased with anxiety. "Oh, I do hope we can work this out, Mrs. Hartmann."
Lena patted her hand and smiled, "So do I, Mrs. Wagner."
A smug expression, a smile that never touched his eyes, revealed much to Maddie about Mr. Toliver's opinion of his own poker hand. Turning his attention to Evan, he said, "We do so hope you and Mrs. Hartmann have found a way to match our current offer. I have to tell you the truth. My sister nearly convinced me to make a decision not in her best interests . . ."
Evan didn't wait for him to elaborate. Instead, he played his hand. Looking directly at Mrs. Wagner he said, "I'm so glad that you still feel that way, Mrs. Wagner, because you know how many times your husband and I spoke of his desire to expand the ranch. He was a good employer and an even better friend."
Mrs. Wagner gave him a wan smile. "Yes, and he even talked of bringing you on as a partner."
Maddie watched Mr. Toliver's expression shift a degree in favor of disapproval. It was just the slightest tic that no one else would have noticed, a bulging of the vein along his left temple and the slight tightening of his lips.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Evan cut him off again by rising to his feet. "Wait! I still have the drawing. It's right here." Evan stepped back to the table. Maddie caught a brief glimpse of a detailed sketch of a farmhouse and a large barn.
Mrs. Wagner took the drawing into her trembling hands. "Oh my! I remember when Everett drew this last summer. He was very good at drawing." She met Lena's eyes, tears glistening as she said, "It was July 4th, last year, wasn't it? Jessie and Bart came too. We had berry pies, first of the season crop." Her mouth quivered with the memory as she stroked the corner of the paper where a purple stain covered the lettering. "That's where he dropped a piece of his pie when he got so excited talking about it."
She looked over at Evan, her eyes distant. "You and Bart and my Everett were going to build that house." Her voice broke off, and she clutched the paper to her breast.
Mr. Toliver had grown stiff. "Estelle, I'm glad that you have such nice memories of Everett. . .but we should. . ."
Maddie took advantage of the moment to reach across the table between them and accidentally knock the teapot over, spilling hot tea down Mr. Toliver's pant leg and onto his shiny leather shoes.
He lurched to his feet with a yowl.
"Oh my!" Maddie rushed around the table to his aid. Brushing at his pant leg with her napkin, she apologized with eloquent profundity while he continued to sputter. "I think you should come with me immediately to the kitchen. That tea is sure to stain those very nice trousers."
Before he could protest more than a few words, she pulled him to the kitchen talking rapidly about the stubbornness of tea stains and the need to care for them immediately. Whatever he was trying to say was drowned out by Maddie's running monologue. As she passed Lena, she gave her a wink. Although her actions were not part of their plan, she knew Lena would be able to interpret the gesture with little effort.
Chapter 22
Evan let out a whoop before Toliver’s buggy turned the corner. Lena shushed him but ignoring the admonition he lifted her off her feet, swinging around twice. Instead of resisting his boyish glee she hugged his neck and gave in to laughter.
Maddie watched from the parlor doorway, while Jessie whaled from the room above, "What happened? Someone must come and tell me right away or I will perish from curiosity."
Evan bounded up the stairs and emerged shortly from Jessie's bedroom, guiding her downstairs.
Jessie reached out for her friend, embracing her. "Oh Lena! Can it be true? You convinced her to sell at your price?"
"Evan was wonderful and, yes, it seems we will soon own the ranch along the Big Wood River. I can scarcely believe it's true."
Even before they had Jessie comfortably positioned in the kitchen with her feet up, she peppered them with questions.
While the three friends chatted merrily, Maddie began to prepare dinner. Believing she’d played a small part in their happiness, she went about the task with a lighter heart. In a moment, she was softly humming one of Ely’s tunes.
Bart returned home before the couple got to the part of Mr. Toliver's sputtering exit, so the story began again. This time Jessie told the story making Evan sound even more clever than with the first telling. David walked in the front door as Maddie set the last plate on the table. Behind her, laughter spilled out of the kitchen.
"Sounds like the meeting went well." He hung his hat on the hall tree and set his bag on the hall table.
"It went very well," Maddie said. "And you shouldn't worry about missing out on the details. I think you'll hear about it soon enough." She laughed. "The story grows better with each telling of it."
David turned back to answer at the door, admitting Ely, violin case in hand.
"So, is it to be Vivaldi or Strauss I play tonight?" Another wave of laughter tipped up the corners of Ely’s mustache. "Ah! Strauss, it is then. A dance is in order, I think. Ja!"
"I'm still not sure my conscience is clear." Lena brought her fingers to her lips, looking to Evan for the answer. "I mean, did we trick her?"
Ely didn't wait for her to explain herself. "Did you tell her a falsehood? No. Did you remind her of what her husband's wishes were? Ja!"
Evan lifting his glass, turned to Maddie, who had remained quiet throughout the meal. He paused, his voice serious. "I would like to thank our new, highly perceptive, friend, Maddie. We would not be celebrating this night had it not been for her. It was she who recognized Toliver's lie."
Bart gave out a hearty, "Here! Here!"
Jessie squeezed Maddie's arm as they all raised their glasses and toasted. Maddie felt heat rise to her cheeks, something she usually could prevent. But the delight of finding herself useful to these charming people overwhelmed
her self-control and her face flushed scarlet.
Ely looked across the table at Lena, curiosity touching his eyes. "What is this? I heard how Maddie cleverly extracted Mr. Toliver at just the right moment, but what is this about? How did she know about the lie?"
"She detected it! It was Maddie who knew. She's very clever," Jessie said. "She could travel in a circus and read fortunes!"
Maddie dropped her gaze to her lap, plucking at her napkin. "Jessie, it's not anything like that."
"Look at me and tell me what I'm thinking." Jessie insisted, eyes glowing with mischief.
"I can't do that. That's not how it works. Besides, you usually tell us what you're thinking. You're an open book when it comes to your feelings."
Laughter rippled around the table at Jessie's expense.
Bart leaned around Jessie and asked, "So what can you tell me about me?" He mugged a serious expression, brow lowered, mouth pursed.
Maddie bit the inside of her lip. They wouldn't let this go easily. Perhaps she could convince them her gift was little more than a parlor trick. She had to try. "I know that Ely always takes three puffs on his pipe when he doesn't agree with someone."
Ely, who had just pulled out his pipe, looked up startled. He drew a hand down his right cheek and tapped his chin. "I'll need to watch that when I am talking to my boss. Ja?"
Lena gave Ely a knowing smile. "And you tap your chin when you're embarrassed. I've seen you do it dozens of times, Ely."
Ely lifted his hand to his chin, stopping himself only just in time. He chuckled. "I guess you have me there."
Lena seemed to warm to her new skill. "And you, Evan, you have a small tic in your left cheek that beats like a drum when you're angry. I saw that this morning."
Evan scowled.
Maddie felt her spirits lift. "You see? It's just a matter of looking and learning."
Evan gave her a wink, saying, "One thing's for certain, you'd be a hard one to be taken in by a scam."
David caught her eye. Although, Maddie couldn't read the look he gave her, she had the uncomfortable feeling that he did not find her explanation plausible. Perhaps she hadn't been as successful in diverting their attention.
Redeeming Lies Page 15
