by E J Cochrane
“For scheming purposes. We can’t rush in without a plan. The perp will make us in no time flat.”
“And the trail of clothing to the bedroom didn’t tip you off to the fact that I was busy?”
“I thought maybe the housekeeper had taken the day off.”
“Dottie, I’m the housekeeper.”
“You don’t sound appropriately grateful for my help. Perhaps I should let you deal with this on your own.”
“It’s just that now really isn’t the best time.”
“So I saw.” Dottie wiggled her finely sculpted eyebrows, but rather than taking Maddie’s elephantine hint to leave, she headed for her friend’s well-stocked liquor cabinet.
“I’ll call you in the morning, Dottie.” Maddie considered removing the booze from Dottie’s hands but thought better of it—she valued her limbs.
“I’m swamped in the morning, ducks.”
She sincerely doubted Dottie would be busy with anything other than beauty rest, but she didn’t argue. That would only inspire more resistance from Dottie.
“How about I figure out a plan and fill you in tomorrow?”
“Plan for what?”
She spun around to find Nadia standing in the doorway looking undeniably sexy in nothing but a plaid button-down shirt she’d borrowed from Maddie’s closet. Maddie wasn’t sure whether Nadia naturally felt confident enough to stroll around half-naked, or if she’d simply decided to roll with the already established exhibitionism of the evening, but she knew she had to get Dottie out of there fast.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see a way around this conversation. This wasn’t how she wanted Nadia to find out about her extracurricular activities. She dreaded Nadia’s reaction, but she refused to lie to her outright. Her best hope was to soften the truth by dancing around it.
“We’re meeting a guy tomorrow to discuss some issues.”
“That’s nice and vague,” Dottie drawled as she poured her martini.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Nadia said, and Maddie glared at an oblivious Dottie. “You’re not planning some big surprise, are you? Because I think it’s way too early for a proposal.”
“Definitely not a proposal.” She wholeheartedly agreed with Nadia on the prematurity of such a move (though she absently wondered if that would go over better than the news she was about to reveal). “It’s actually something I’m working on for my friend, Leigh.”
“What’s going on, Maddie?”
“You see, Leigh, my friend who I just mentioned, she’s one of my oldest friends, and she’s in kind of a bind with the police, so the thing is—”
“She’s investigating a murder,” Dottie cut to the chase. “Was that so hard?” she asked an aghast Maddie.
“Again?” Nadia seemed surprised but not angry, and at this point Maddie would claim any victory, no matter how small.
“Sort of.” She shrugged her answer.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you’d be upset.” She shrugged again.
“As opposed to what I am now because you lied to me?”
“Only because you found out,” Dottie interjected, earning a double glare from Maddie and Nadia.
“I didn’t lie.”
“Well, I don’t think you can say you were honest with me.” Nadia crossed her arms over her chest, closing herself off.
“Are you upset that I’m investigating a murder or that I didn’t tell you?”
“A little of both, I guess.” Nadia sank into one of Maddie’s kitchen chairs. “I don’t want you to be afraid to be honest with me, and I don’t like the idea of you hiding things from me. But I really hate the thought of you endangering yourself. Again.”
“There’s no danger.” She sat next to Nadia and took her hand.
“Isn’t that what you said last time? You promised me you would be careful, and then you walked through a murderer’s front door and basically asked to be bushwhacked.”
“That’s not going to happen again.”
“How can you be sure?”
“So far the biggest threat I’ve faced is to my digestive system.” Nadia looked understandably puzzled as she reflected on her enlightening but indigestion-inducing visit with Esther Snodgrass, but she just frowned and moved on. “I’ve made a few dozen phone calls and talked to a little old lady. Tomorrow I’m going to meet a man—”
“A strange man who might have killed someone.”
“But I won’t be alone. And I’ll send you all of the information I have on him in case something happens.”
“That will be a great comfort to me when a jogger finds your mangled body on the side of the road.”
“Good point, Nadia.” Dottie, of course, found no flaws in Nadia’s overestimation of the peril they faced. “Smart and sexy. I understand why Maddie is so captivated by your considerable assets.” She raised her almost-empty glass in a toast.
“And that’s your bodyguard.” Nadia gestured at Dottie, who munched on an olive (possibly her only sustenance that day) as she poured herself a second drink.
She sighed. “She’s more formidable than she appears.”
“I don’t like it.”
“So I gathered.”
“Is there even the remotest possibility I can talk you out of doing this?”
“Let me know if you figure out a way to change her mind.” Dottie settled at the table across from them. “I could use some help convincing her not to wear T-shirts and cargo pants.”
Maddie rolled her eyes but kept her focus on her girlfriend. “I made a promise to a friend. I can’t let her down.”
Nadia bit her lip, apparently lost in thought. She stayed silent for a lifetime, allowing Maddie’s uncertainty ample opportunity to take over. Just as she decided she would be single as soon as Nadia figured out the best way to break up with her, Nadia broke in on her thoughts.
“Then let me help you.”
“What?” She didn’t know if emotional whiplash was a real thing but felt like she was experiencing it in that moment. “I thought you hated this.”
“I don’t hate that you care about your friends and want to help. Or that you’re intelligent enough to solve crimes. I just wish it didn’t include the risk of grievous bodily injury.” She lowered her voice and leaned close to her. “I’m particularly fond of your body, and I don’t want anyone to lay a finger on you.” Nadia gently stroked her face. “Anyone other than me, that is.”
Maddie kissed her softly, losing herself until Dottie cleared her throat.
“So, where do we start?” Nadia asked.
Dottie waved a toothpick and said, “You might want to start by putting on some pants.”
Chapter Twenty
It only took Maddie thirty minutes to explain everything she’d learned since treading back into the murky waters of crime solving (a task she could have completed in less than half that time if not for the need to navigate multiple “helpful” interruptions from Dottie). Discussing the case with Nadia proved beneficial. Not only was she (like most people over the age of five) more inclined to logic than Dottie, but her fresh perspective also helped Maddie reassess certain aspects of the case, starting with her gift for racking up enough potentially guilty parties to fill a stadium.
“You have a thousand suspects.” Nadia rubbed her eyes after poring over the pages of Maddie’s handwritten notes.
Atop the lengthy inventory of potential killers sat the volatile ex-husband Ray, somewhat oblivious wronged neighbor Esther, unpleasant scorned lover Kat and, if she was being realistic, Leigh. Though she hated including her friend, she’d uncovered zero evidence of her innocence.
“And that’s not even the complete list,” she admitted. She still had to find a way to finagle information from the door people at Terry and Lindsey’s building, and she hated to consider how many more names would be added if she ever slogged all the way through the phone book of Terry’s obituary.
“Apparently Terry wasn’t beloved,” Dotti
e said after a brief, disdainful glance at the papers in front of Nadia.
“There must be some way to narrow this down,” Nadia groaned.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Maddie sighed. “But for now, I’m still trying to find anyone who knew Terry and didn’t want to kill her.”
“Seems like you’d have better luck finding elegant footwear in your closet.” Dottie punctuated her comment with a healthy swallow of her cocktail.
“But doesn’t the killer have to be someone who knew both Terry and Leigh?” Nadia’s brow furrowed in her concentration. “Or do you really think Terry’s cousin Lou randomly fed her the allergen-laced brownies your friend is known for?”
“It’s possible there’s no connection between Leigh and the killer. The brownies might just be a coincidence.”
Maddie considered how readily Leigh passed out the recipe for her magical heart-healing, soul-soothing brownies. She’d even offered it freely at the numerous bake sales for school and scouts and the million other youth groups that had benefitted from her confectionary genius. Her charitable baking had lifted more than one after-school program from the brink of failure, a feat Maddie doubted Leigh’s replacement had replicated.
Suddenly her heart ached with sadness over Leigh’s terrible loss. She’d loved those kids from the beginning and taken on the role of parent without hesitation. Though Maddie had never met Terry, based on the widespread disdain for her, she questioned the likelihood that substitute Leigh had been half the parent Leigh had been. Had Terry ever worked a full day only to come home and bake for a school fundraiser or rush to a soccer game so the kids had unflagging support in all their endeavors? It was possible, of course, but somehow Maddie felt justified in harshly judging the maternal qualities of the dead stranger who’d wrecked her friend’s home and life.
Leigh had been a good parent, one the kids (and Lindsey) were lucky to have. Maddie felt heartsick at the pointless loss that whole family had faced, and her determination to help Leigh surged. Not only would she learn the truth and ensure Leigh wasn’t charged with a murder she didn’t commit (no matter how justified), but she also intended to find some way to reconcile Leigh and her kids.
“But doesn’t that seem like a lot of effort to go through if your only goal is a corpse?” Nadia broke in on Maddie’s contemplation. “A gunshot would accomplish the same thing.”
“Or garroting with piano wire,” Dottie interjected, a macabre gleam in her eye as she polished off her drink.
“So you think the killer wanted Terry dead and Leigh to look guilty?”
“Maybe. Even if the killer wanted Terry’s death to be agonizing, some unrefined peanut oil slipped into just about anything would have had the same effect. The brownies seem like a deliberate choice.”
“Good lord, she’s even hotter when she’s brainy,” Dottie interrupted her mixology to coo Nadia’s praises.
“Tell me about it.” She bit her lower lip and for the millionth time wished Dottie hadn’t chosen that night to start being proactive.
“Really?” Nadia favored her with a suggestive look. “Because I could rattle off a mess of medical terms right now if that’s your thing.”
“Simmer down, ladies. Much as I appreciate the aphrodisiacal effects of science talk, we still have work to do,” Dottie called from the kitchen counter where she poured a fresh batch of nuclear cocktails, this time offering up her concoction to her coconspirators.
“Right.” She couldn’t believe Dottie was the one keeping them on track rather than galloping off on a whirlwind tour of tangents and digressions. “Murder, painful death, friend in trouble. I’m focusing.”
“So how do we know who on your exhaustive list of suspects had ties to both women?”
“Leigh would be our best source of information.” Maddie checked the time, sighing at the realization that, though Leigh should be fast asleep, she would more likely be nose deep in a bottle. Either way, it would be pointless to reach out just then. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Though the thought of making even one more phone call filled her with dread, if it saved her the effort of making an additional forty cold calls, she would happily pick up the phone, especially since this route carried the added bonus of not doubling her list of suspects just to try to narrow it down again. She almost wished she’d fessed up to Nadia from the outset of the investigation. She might have avoided the frustration of chatting up half of Chicago in an effort to learn anything about Terry’s death.
“Does that mean my services are no longer needed tomorrow?” Dottie pouted at the potential lost opportunity to dazzle and manipulate.
“No. We still need to talk to Ray.”
“Who’s Ray?” Nadia asked.
“Our current best suspect,” Maddie said before explaining the sordid details of Lindsey’s past entanglements.
“Lindsey sounds like a delight,” Dottie said, her expression a clear indication of her distaste. Coming from a thrice-divorced, unrepentant gold-digger, such judgment of Lindsey’s morals seemed extra harsh (though no less apt).
“Agreed,” Maddie said.
“And Ray probably wasn’t happy with Lindsey either,” Nadia nodded slowly, the pieces seeming to fall into place for her. “So your faked suicide theory still holds up. But how do we get information from him?”
“I can only surmise your experience with men is as circumscribed as Matilda’s, or you’d be aware of the paralyzing effect that breasts can have on the male brain.” Dottie gestured to her spectacular cleavage to emphasize her importance to the investigation. To Nadia’s credit, she barely acknowledged Dottie’s surgically enhanced bosom. “I’ve never met a man who wouldn’t give me what I want.”
“I have no doubt that’s true, but I think you need more than cleavage in your arsenal.” Dottie looked wounded, and Nadia clarified. “Unless you’re hoping to randomly cross paths with Ray and mesmerize him with your boobs, you’ll need some plan to get him in the same space as your, um, assets.”
“According to Leigh, he’s a painter.”
“You think I should commission him to do my portrait.” Dottie seemed inordinately pleased with the idea of immortalizing herself on canvas.
“Not an artist,” Maddie clarified, feeling a momentary pang at causing her crestfallen expression. “He owns a house painting business, so I thought we could lure him to your place for a consultation.”
“Impossible,” Dottie snapped before softening her tone. “I’m not ready for paint yet.”
Maddie had no idea what prep work Dottie thought her vacant condominium required before it could be painted but decided not to pursue that line of questioning.
“He doesn’t need to know that, Dottie. We just need a plausible story to get him to your condo.”
“Oh,” Dottie stretched the word into several syllables, her relief disproportionate to Maddie’s statement. “In that case, of course we can meet at the condo.”
“Absolutely not,” Nadia interjected and hit the table with her fist, startling the dogs.
“Ooo. She’s forceful,” Dottie purred over the chorus of barks and yaps.
Maddie would have been amused had she not been so irritated by Nadia’s controlling tone.
“I didn’t realize that a handful of dates in three months’ time gave you veto power over my life.”
“It doesn’t,” Nadia began.
“But the sex might,” Dottie offered her opinion, earning yet another glare from the other women.
“I just think it might not be advisable to invite a potential murderer into either of your homes. Maybe you should aim for something more public.”
“Like what? Starbucks? I’m sure he’ll realize I’m not looking to spruce up the corporate giant’s coffee shop on the corner.”
“Or maybe my office?” Nadia suggested, the trace of sarcasm in her voice earning her no forgiveness from Maddie.
“Won’t you be using your office?”
“I have four exam rooms. I can keep
one open for you if you tell me what time to expect you.”
She considered this, grudgingly accepting that it could work (though not as well as her plan, she was sure). Before she could concede Nadia’s point, Dottie jumped in.
“What’s the lighting like in your offices, Nadia? Tell me you don’t use fluorescent bulbs. Even my radiance fades under the harsh glare of industrial lights, and that will torpedo the entire plan.”
“No fluorescent lights, I promise.”
“Then I approve.” Dottie set her once again empty glass on the table and rose (surprisingly steadily) to her feet and called Anastasia to her. On her way out the door, she said over her shoulder, “Let Carlisle know what time tomorrow, puss. I trust I don’t need to remind you, nothing before noon.”
Maddie thought she’d let go of her anger when they went to bed, but she woke up (just five short hours later) feeling irritated, so much so that despite her weariness, she still forced herself out of bed for her morning run—an activity much more likely to improve her mood than additional sleep. None of the dogs stirred as she quietly dressed for the chilly morning temperatures.
For that matter, neither did Nadia, who (not surprisingly) looked stunning even as she slept. The sheet only partially covered her, allowing her the mouth-watering view of Nadia’s full chest rising and falling slowly with the deep, even breathing of slumber. Her hair fanned across the pillow, and one arm was flung to the side, while the other rested above her head. She still couldn’t believe such a gorgeous woman had ended up in her bed. She should have been reluctant to leave her, and if not for the irascibility that gnawed at her, she would have crawled back under the covers until the alarm urged them both awake. But she had too much to think about, especially the brunette sound asleep in her bed.
Invigorated by the first blast of cool morning air against her face, she shivered and looked east to where the sky was just starting to lighten as the day inched toward sunrise. She headed toward the lake, and as her feet fell into a steady rhythm, she allowed her thoughts to wander over the source of her sour mood that morning—Nadia’s domineering proclamation the night before.
