by E J Cochrane
“I’m not sure yet, but I think it starts with a man named Ray.”
“I’m in,” Dottie bellowed.
“In for what? I just told you I have no plan.”
“You’ll cook something up, beef cheeks, and when you do, I assume you’ll need me to beguile this Ray person for you. I do have considerably more experience exploiting male weakness.”
Maddie hadn’t gotten that far in her machinations, but Dottie raised an excellent point. “That’s actually a great idea.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, ducks. I happen to be brilliant.”
“I never doubted that,” Maddie said before promising to find Ray for the next phase of the investigation.
Almost nonexistent plan in place, Maddie felt marginally more proactive, but she still questioned the wisdom of her revised course. What if she wasted time hunting down the killer that never was while Fitzwilliam continued amassing circumstantial evidence against Leigh? She needed input from someone a little farther removed from flights of fancy than Dottie. Her legs falling asleep from roughly twenty pounds of cat holding them in one position for so long, she shifted slightly, rousing an irritated Stanley. And as she watched the perturbed feline sauntering off to his own side of the couch (grumbling all the while), she realized she had the perfect candidate.
“Your cat pinned me down for over an hour,” she wrote. It seemed like a good opening, but she hesitated before sending the text. Though she would be delivering on her promise to update Murphy on her kitties, she could also end up doing more damage than good if Murphy took offense to a little opportunistic brain picking on Maddie’s part.
Never in her life had she expected to become someone who would exploit a relationship with a client (and someone she genuinely liked), yet there she was considering just that. On top of abusing her position, she also might be handing the affable cop one more reason to think less of her. She could be putting her integrity at stake and risking damage to her business (and the chance of a friendship with Officer Murphy) but might not get anything in return. Ultimately, though, the chance that she could prevent Leigh from spending her life in prison for a crime she didn’t commit overrode Maddie’s desire to make a good impression on Officer Murphy. She hit Send.
I can’t believe you stayed that long. Murphy answered immediately, making Maddie wonder just how much Murphy was enjoying her vacation.
Well, he was sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t want to disturb him. Plus, it was raining, and I didn’t have an umbrella. Being a cat bed seemed like the better option.
It almost always is. What do I owe you for all that extra time?
Nothing at all. I just thought you’d like to know how well we’re all getting along.
No surprise there. Herbie is a love bug. That’s actually how he got his name.
Tabling for the moment that adorable glimpse of the softer side of Officer Murphy, she replied with her own surprising development. Not Herbie. Stanley.
Are you sure you’re at the right house?
Unless I somehow stumbled into an alternate dimension.
That’s a distinct possibility. Stanley doesn’t like anybody. He doesn’t really even like me.
Maddie seriously doubted that last part. Grumpy though he could be, Stanley seemed far too wise to dislike someone as thoroughly likeable as Murphy.
I’m kind of like Snow White, so don’t take it too hard.
Is that your way of telling me you live with seven men? A winky face emoji accompanied her question, reminding Maddie all too powerfully of the free-flowing, dimple-accentuating, in-person winks of Officer Murphy.
They’re messy, but it does help with living expenses, Maddie answered.
She hated to sacrifice the playful mood, but she needed to get to the point and let Murphy get back to whatever had taken her to Nashville. Crossing her fingers that she wasn’t about to ruin everything, she went for it. Have you ever heard of a suicide that wasn’t a suicide?
She stared at Herbie chasing the raindrops trailing down the window and waited for a response.
Is this a riddle? Murphy answered after a pregnant pause.
Not a riddle. I need your professional opinion. Almost as an afterthought, she added, For a friend. Maddie’s phone rang almost instantly, and for a moment she stared at it stupidly, wondering what was happening.
“Should I be worried about you?” Murphy sounded stern and concerned at the same time, and Maddie kicked herself for nonchalantly dropping a loaded word like “suicide” in something so casual as a text.
“Not at all. I’m fine, and I swear this is not a cry for help. I’m sorry if I scared you. I shouldn’t have bothered you on your vacation.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m so sorry. Please just forget it. I really don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s a bit late for that,” Murphy said, but she sounded more amused than upset. “What happened?”
Having little choice but to see the mess she’d made through to the end, she did her best to explain without making herself look worse. “My friend’s ex killed herself a few days ago, but it was so sudden and unexpected—”
“That your friend wants to believe it was murder rather than suicide.”
“Something like that.” The fewer details Murphy had, the more blameless Maddie appeared.
“Tell your friend that most suicides are exactly that.”
“Most?” She grasped at the straw of hope offered by Murphy’s statement. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement of the investigation Murphy knew nothing about, but it was an indication that she might not be totally off base. “Meaning some aren’t?”
“That’s not going to bring your friend any peace of mind, especially if the police aren’t investigating it.” She again questioned whether Fitzwilliam had any intention of exploring the slender possibility that Lindsey’s death might be a homicide or if he even knew that chance existed.
“I guess it’s stupid to think the police have time to look into every death in the city, no matter how odd it seems.”
“It’s not stupid to want to understand what happened, and it’s natural to wish things were different.” Murphy’s sympathetic voice held no traces of pity or judgment, and she imagined what a reassuring presence the capable cop must be when disaster struck. “I’m sorry your friend is going through this.”
“Thank you, Officer Murphy. I’m sorry to have intruded on your vacation.”
“I can think of worse intrusions,” Murphy said softly, leaving Maddie with the slightly unmoored feeling she was beginning to associate with the companionable police officer.
Satisfied that it wasn’t completely preposterous to think Lindsey might not have taken her own life (though not at all satisfied that she wasn’t racing off in the wrong direction), she decided to take the risk of making a giant mistake. She just hoped the gamble was worth Leigh’s life.
Chapter Eighteen
Maddie knew she should capitalize on the minimal progress (or possible backslide) she’d made in Leigh’s case. Her nagging doubts that she was racing in the opposite direction of the truth, plus the looming specter of Fitzwilliam’s misguided pursuit of Leigh, told her she had no time to waste, and she had every intention of calling Leigh to learn what she could about the next target of her snooping—Lindsey’s ex-husband, Ray. But when she finally got home, Bart and Goliath met her at her door, their sad eyes begging for attention. Knowing she’d be leaving them alone again later that night, she couldn’t bring herself to rely on a quick visit to the yard to meet their needs. The boys were her family, and time with them was anything but a waste, so she leashed them up, and tails wagging, they headed out the door.
As they wound their way through the neighborhood streets, Bart and Goliath competing to startle rabbits and squirrels along their route, her doubts about what would probably be the second most awkward date in her history took over. What if Granny disliked Nadia? As an intelligent, articulate, friendly, animal-loving busin
ess owner, Nadia possessed many of the qualities Granny admired in potential suitors for her granddaughters, but that didn’t guarantee her blessing. Not that Maddie would allow her grandmother’s partiality to dictate her romantic entanglements, but historically speaking, when Granny disapproved of a person, that person usually ended up proving her an exceptional judge of character. Plus, Maddie didn’t look forward to the added complication of juggling her loyalties to her girlfriend and her grandmother. Having done that once already (with little to show for it but regret for not listening to Granny sooner), she wasn’t eager to reenter the stressful world of keeping her girlfriend away from her grandmother.
Assuming, of course, that Nadia remained her girlfriend after tonight. Among the countless potential calamities inherent to mixing the strong personalities of Granny Doyle and Nadia Sheridan was the chance (remote but not impossible) that Nadia wouldn’t like Granny—an unforgiveable offense and grounds for immediate breakup. But even if everyone got along and behaved (an outcome that seemed as likely as Dottie wearing sweatpants in public), Maddie could easily imagine at least a hundred other things that might go wrong, not least among them Granny’s health. Though she hadn’t had another troublesome episode with her blood pressure since the one that had landed her in the hospital a few months earlier, Granny put as much stock in doctors and medicine as she would a vegetarian’s recipe for meatloaf. Her reluctance to follow doctor’s orders plus the stress of hosting the possible demise of Maddie’s love life might put her in the emergency room before the night ended.
She knew she was being ridiculous but couldn’t help spinning worst-case scenarios as the dogs sniffed and strolled their way through a large chunk of East Rogers Park. By the time the boys padded into the house an hour later and plopped, tired but happy, onto the kitchen floor, she had considered just about every possible calamity that might befall her that evening and needed a distraction from her own mind. Resisting the palliative call of alcohol (and its potential to cause more problems than it solved), she sighed and grabbed her phone. She might as well turn her mental commotion into something productive.
“What do you know about Lindsey’s ex-husband?” she asked once Leigh picked up.
“You mean Ray?”
“Does she have another ex-husband I’m unaware of?”
“Right.” Leigh laughed a little uncomfortably. “He’s a decent guy. We were never close, but we got along when we had to.”
“Does that mean you fought when no one else was around?”
“It wasn’t like that. We just avoided each other as much as possible, and when we couldn’t, we played nice. For the kids.”
“So, he didn’t hate you or have a grudge against you?”
“Well, his wife left him to be with me, so I don’t think I was his favorite person. But he never threatened me or anything.”
Stunned to learn that Leigh had broken up Lindsey’s marriage, Maddie reconsidered Ray’s possible role in the murder. People had killed for less compelling reasons than being cuckolded, but it seemed implausible he would wait over six years to act on his anger. And why would he kill Terry but not Leigh? While he might be framing Leigh for murdering the woman who continued the steady tradition of breaking up Lindsey’s partnerships, Maddie felt he was either innocent or terrible at revenge. Still, she wanted to speak with him.
“Do you know how I can contact him?”
“What do you want to talk to him about?”
“The murder you asked me to investigate.” She couldn’t help her impatient tone.
“You think he did it?”
“I think I need more information, and he might have it.”
“You’re not going to be obvious about it, are you? He’s got a temper, and I don’t want you making him angry.”
“I know a thing or two about subtlety.” She huffed in defiance of her limited gifts with subterfuge. She filed away the information about Ray, hoping she wouldn’t bear witness to his short fuse.
After a minor pause, Leigh rattled off a number. “That’s his business phone, but it’s the only number I have for him.”
“What’s his business?” She didn’t see a connection between Ray’s profession and the likelihood that he was a murderer, but she was curious.
“He’s a house painter,” Leigh answered. “Or at least he was the last time I talked to him. I hope that helps.”
“It does. It definitely helps,” she said absentmindedly, the germ of an idea forming in her mind. “Boys,” she announced to the snoozing and entirely uninterested canines sprawled across her floor, “I think I have a plan.”
Stepping over her dogs’ supine forms, she headed toward her bedroom to ponder the specifics while she prepared for her date.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Maddie stopped abruptly on Granny Doyle’s front porch and seized Nadia’s arm. The all-too-fleeting distraction of murder and investigative strategizing had done little to abate her nervousness, which flared up now that she was face-to-face with Granny’s door. “Because it’s not too late to back out.”
“It’s five after eight. It’s completely too late to back out. And yes, I’m sure I want to do this.” Nadia took her hand from her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Unless your grandmother can’t bake. I take dessert seriously, and I don’t want to have to lie to one of my elders to spare her feelings.”
Nadia’s ever-perfect chestnut hair fluttered in the chill wind that nipped at them, and her reddened nose and cheeks managed to accentuate her beauty, like she was in a Christmas ad for some gloriously elegant brand of vodka or a wildly expensive piece of jewelry—not at all like someone who would be on Maddie’s arm, heading into Granny Doyle’s house for pie and polite interrogation.
“You aren’t nervous at all?” she asked.
“It’s pie with your grandmother. Should I be?”
“Yes. You should be terrified.”
“Why? Is she mean?” For the briefest of moments, she looked appropriately alarmed.
“She’s the Stalin of grandmothers. It’s what I love best about her.”
“In that case, it sounds like we’re in for a really fun night.” Her expression relaxed into her habitual, bewitching grin, and she pulled Maddie close. “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever since you invited me to your grandmother’s you’ve been trying to change my mind about going. It’s almost like you don’t want to introduce me to your family.”
“I’m nervous about it.”
“Because you don’t think they’ll like me?” She leaned against the porch railing, apparently settling in for a longer conversation than Maddie had meant to start. “Obviously they heard about what happened over the summer, that I broke your heart.”
“Really, you just bruised it a little.”
“Still, I’m guessing they weren’t too happy with me.”
“Thank you, Harriet,” Maddie muttered and shook her head.
“Harriet was just being a big sister. I’ve got one of those, so I get it. And I know I screwed up, not just with you. There’s a chance your family will always hold a grudge. That doesn’t mean I can’t try to win them over. But that’s not going to happen if you never let me meet them. So what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours? What are you so worried about?”
She sighed. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut and just settled for the inevitable awkwardness inside her grandmother’s house rather than introducing more of it into her evening. “I like you a lot,” she confessed. Given any other option, she would have withheld that admission for as long as possible.
“What a tragedy. How do you plan to cope with such a hardship?”
“I’m starting to like you less, you know.” But she couldn’t stay irritated when Nadia smiled her lopsided smile and kissed her hand. “My family, lovable and well-meaning as they are, has no idea where the line between supportive and terrifyingly overprotective lies. So on the rare occasion when I find some
one who will go on more than one date with me, they insist on meeting her and scare her off in under an hour. In case you were remotely curious as to why I’m single—”
“Past tense,” Nadia corrected.
“Right. Why I was single has a lot to do with my family being way too invested in my love life.”
“What monsters.”
“Whose side are you on here?”
“Yours, but I’m still having trouble understanding what’s so horrible about a supportive family.”
“It’s not horrible. It’s just overwhelming at times. I love them, but sometimes I wonder why I couldn’t have been a ward of the state.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t scare easily.”
“That theory will be tested.” She bit her thumbnail.
“You’re adorable when you’re distraught.”
She glowered at Nadia but said nothing.
“And for the record, I think maybe you might be just a little bit crazy. I would kill for a grandmother, or a mother, or anyone in my life to take such an interest in who I’m dating, beyond trying to convince me that it should be a man.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it again when you wonder why you’ve never met my parents.” Nadia took Maddie’s hands again. “It’s going to be fine, you know.”
“If we survive, I’ll remind you that you said that. And that I tried to give you an out.”
“I don’t want an out.” Nadia stared into her eyes and cupped her face. “The last thing I want is an out.”
Forgetting that she stood a few feet from her grandmother’s front door, she leaned in and kissed Nadia with a fierceness wholly inappropriate for Granny Doyle’s front porch.
“That’s not fair.” Nadia held her at arms’ length, and she smiled innocently. “You can’t kiss me like that and then expect me to go charm your grandmother. I am so not in grandmother mode right now.”
“Believe me, my first choice in this moment is not quality time with Granny.” She stole another bruising kiss. “Just hang on to that for the next hour.”
