by Becki Willis
They mingled among the crowd, visiting with what seemed like half the community. Madison wasn’t sure if anyone was left to dine on the other side of the wall, but it sounded like the entire place was packed. Genny had extra staff on hand but still ran back and forth between the two rooms, lending a helping hand where needed.
“Poor Genny,” Madison commented as she and Brash finally seated themselves at a table. “She’s going to run herself ragged before the evening’s half done.”
“She loves every minute of it, and you know it. I was surprised to see her newest busboy, though.”
“Who’s that?”
His brown eyes twinkled with humor. “Cutter. It appears he traded in his bunker gear and welding helmet for an apron.”
“You’re kidding! I’ve got to see that!” Madison clapped her hands together with glee, laughing as she imagined the handsome heartthrob clearing tables. “I bet the women love that!”
Brash shook his head with a chuckle. “The man is officially whupped,” he claimed. “The things we husbands do to please our wives.”
“And vice versa,” she reminded him, patting his arm. “Speaking of pleasing the women in your life. Your mother is really excited about throwing you a birthday party tomorrow.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Come on. The girls are so excited about baking you a cake. Just in case any tainted air is still lingering in the Big House, I don’t feel right inviting a bunch of people over. Your mom was delighted to move the party out to the ranch.”
“I’m sure she was. She can invite both my brothers and my sister that way,” he grumbled, “plus half the ranch employees. Blow this thing up to a big production.”
“Think of it this way. More gifts,” Madison grinned.
“I have you and the kids. That’s everything I need.”
“Don’t deny your mom this pleasure. Or your girls. Megan and Bethani are excited about this.”
Beside her, Brash grunted, but she knew it was all an act. He enjoyed a birthday celebration as much as anyone did.
As they enjoyed their meal, Brash watched a middle-aged woman deposit a gaily wrapped present onto the table after greeting the birthday girl. Even though the invitation insisted no gifts were necessary, most of the guests brought some token, and the pile of presents continued to grow.
“That was nice of her to come,” Brash murmured.
“Who is that?” Madison asked. Something about the woman was vaguely familiar, but Madison was certain she had never met her. She had the look of someone who was harried and exhausted and running on fumes. Streaks of gray hair blended with brown to pull into a messy bun. Madison wondered if it had started that way or if she had had a difficult day. Judging from her stiff movements and the visible scratches on her hands, she suspected the latter. The woman looked like a hard worker.
“Their ex-daughter-in-law,” Brash answered. “She and Gerald have been divorced for years. Even though they have Paul as a connection, it’s nice to see she keeps in touch with her ex-family.”
“I don’t remember seeing her at the trial. Then again, I concentrated on the attorneys and nothing else. I wanted nothing to do with the circus outside that courtroom.”
“Because of its ties to the TV show, it naturally got more attention than most cases,” Brash agreed.
“At least the judge didn’t allow cameras in the courthouse. But I still don’t remember seeing her there.”
“Neither do I, come to think of it. Maybe she had to work. Or maybe she couldn’t stand seeing her son and the father of her children on trial and facing prison time.”
“Maybe she knew they were guilty and didn’t want to jinx their fate. Jurors watch the families’ faces, you know.”
Brash grunted in disagreement. “I doubt that. Maybe she didn’t condone their methods, but she supports the underlying message. She’s always maintained the Adams family was swindled out of their inheritance. I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t why she married Gerald to begin with, thinking he would come into Miss Juliet’s fortune. They never seemed particularly happy together. She left him when Paul was still in school. She didn’t come back here until a few years ago.”
Madison studied the woman again. “Maybe that’s why I don’t recognize her.”
“She’s one of those who likes to keep the old feud oiled up and running,” he added. “She can’t just get over it and let bygones be bygones.”
“Water under the bridge,” Madison agreed, recalling a similar conversation with Marvin Combs.
“I’m going back for more barbecue. Would you like something?”
“No, thank you. I’m stuffed, and they haven’t even cut the cake yet.”
That night, Madison had a dream about Mr. Pruett. He was somewhere in a dark room, surrounded by upturned tables and scattered papers. A blindfold wrapped around his eyes, secured by a gaudy gold necklace.
As morning sun streamed into the room, she vowed to tell Brash the full truth. Between sick children, his work schedule, the party last night, and the temporary reprieve she granted for his own benefit, the urgency of the situation had slipped past her. The truth was, however, that Mr. Pruett could still be in danger. They still had no idea if he was on vacation or if he had been kidnapped. The more information she gave Brash, the better equipped he would be to find the missing gentleman.
She knew there was the possibility that her input would make little or no difference. So far, she hadn’t made much progress in connecting the dots, but Brash was a trained professional. He could catch things her amateur eye didn’t see.
Promises to her grandmother and birthday surprises aside, it was well past time she did the right thing.
When Madison rolled over in bed, however, the pillow beside her was empty. Instead of his dark head, she found a note, anchored by a chocolate candy kiss and written in her husband’s masculine hand.
“Sorry to leave, but I didn’t want to wake you. Fire broke out at Gold and Silver Exchange. Huge mess. If I don’t make it to church, I’ll try to meet you at the ranch. This kiss doesn’t love you as much as I do, but at least it’s sweeter. Your adoring husband.”
Madison smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. Propping herself up on pillows, she called her best friend.
“Did you survive last night?” she asked with a smile.
“Barely!”
“It was wonderful as always, Genny. The room looked fantastic, and the food was delicious. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I had a lot of help. Cutter was a godsend. I may make a restaurateur out of that man yet!”
“I saw him cleaning tables,” Madison giggled. “Speaking of your groom, I hear there’s a fire at Gold and Silver.”
“He got the call about three this morning. He’s still not back.”
“I know what you went through when your house burned. I’m not a fan of Lamont Andrews, but I’d never wish that on anyone, not even him. Was it a total loss?”
“No, I don’t think so. They were able to get some of the stuff out, and I know there are at least three walls still standing. I’ll forward you the pictures Cutter sent me.”
“I hope it didn’t spread to Marvin Gardens.”
“No, it was contained to the one building.”
“Do they know what started it?”
“This can’t go any further than us. But between you and me, they think the cleaning service may have left something flammable behind. It’s too soon to say, and the fire marshal hasn’t gotten here yet, but that’s the theory they’re leaning toward. And of course, Lamont is breathing fire.”
“I guess that explains Brash’s mention of a huge mess.”
“How did he take the news of the gold? Has he already made you turn it in? Does it offer any clues to Mr. Pruett’s disappearance?”
“I haven’t told him yet. These last couple of days have been so crazy, I just never had an opportunity. I know it sounds like a copout, but it’s true. Between the fire and the party
, today isn’t looking too favorable, either.”
“I just hope the guys finish in time to come. We can’t very well have a birthday party without a birthday boy.”
Madison crawled from bed and padded into the library turned personal office where she had a coffee maker. She loved this room, with its rich paneled walls and built-in nooks and crannies. Unlike its larger and more formal counterpart downstairs, this one was scaled for a woman, making the space feel cozy and inviting.
The gold nuggets beckoned to her. Knowing she would soon reveal them to her husband anyway, Madison decided to take them from their hiding spot. This time, she used the library ladder to access the sliding panel.
“This is much easier than a stool,” Madison realized aloud, reaching around the journals to find the box. “I should have been doing this all along.” Making her a few inches higher than when on the stool, the additional height offered a different vantage point.
As Madison fished the box out, she saw a piece of paper in the far back of the cubby. “Hmm. Wonder where that came from? I wonder if it’s been here all along, and I’m just now seeing it.” She stood on her tiptoes, stretching to touch the paper with her fingertips. “Almost. Just a little… there! Got it!”
She glanced at the paper as she backed her way down the ladder. It appeared to be the same quality of paper as the journal entries. Hadn’t she noticed a couple of torn-out pages? A stickler for appearances, Juliet recorded her thoughts in a flowing, even hand. Madison had marveled at the lack of errors and cross-outs in the many documents. If Miss Juliet made a mistake, Madison had no doubt she ripped the pages out as not to mar the perfection of the others. Perhaps this had been one of those error-tainted pages, she mused.
Madison sat at her desk and carefully emptied the contents of the box. With the same sense of wonder and awe as the first time, she tested the weight of the golden nuggets in her hand. What was even one of these worth? A college education? Three cars, for three teenagers? A debt-free future? She allowed her mind to wander at will, imagining the possibilities if the gold were hers.
There was that huge two-letter word. If.
She pulled the necklace from its tissue, questioning its origin. Such an odd piece. Valuable, without a doubt. But still so awkward and gawky.
“How do you tie into Mr. Pruett?” she wondered aloud. “What did he know? Did it get the poor man killed?”
The diamonds had no answer. They winked at her in the light, brilliant and sparkling despite the abuse they had suffered. The rubies glistened with a low red glimmer, bringing to mind blood and, for some reason, the racing stripe on Lamont Andrews’ white sports car.
Startled at the path of her own thoughts, Madison traded the necklace for the discarded piece of paper. She unfolded it and read the familiar script of Juliet Randolph Blakely.
Word came today that President Roosevelt has rescinded that dreadful Executive Order. It was indeed a sad and dark day in our country’s illustrious history when our government seized property from its devoted and most lawful citizens. It pleases me to know the order has been rescinded, but the damage has been done. Those more loyal to their country than I have already relinquished their property. I knew I took a great risk, refusing to heed the call, but I could never surrender my beloved’s inheritance. It was Darwin’s dream to use his uncle’s generosity to promote and provide good health to those less fortunate.
I couldn’t allow the government to take his gold. To lose it, to lose hope of giving Darwin his dream even in death, would be like losing my beloved all over again. I had to protect the gold at all costs. It was my duty as a wife. Mr. Cartwright tried to help, but the results were less than satisfactory. The only option was subterfuge. I had no option left but to hide the gold. It shall remain hidden until I can use it to make Darwin’s dream a reality.
One day, Darwin Blakely’s destiny shall be fulfilled.
Madison stared at the entry in disbelief. For whatever reason, Juliet had chosen to rip this page from her journal. Perhaps she feared someone finding the note, and what consequences it would bring. If the knowledge fell into the wrong hands, the reader might tear the mansion apart, looking for the hidden treasure.
Who would think to look in a chair? A desperate sort might rip out the exquisite burled wood panels. Splinter intricate woodwork. Shatter inlaid marble. Rip out polished brass sconces. Pluck crystal chandeliers from their sockets. Tear out parquet patterns and polished hickory floorboards. They might destroy the integrity of the grand old dame without once thinking to pluck the cushions from a favored chair.
It had been Darwin’s chair, of that Madison was certain. The sentimental widow had hidden her husband’s inheritance in his favorite wing chair, and then… then, what? Madison wondered. Had she, indeed, forgotten of its existence? Given up on the dream? Become too old and too feeble to see it through? Had the cost of construction outweighed the market value of gold? Or had she, in her bitter later years, no longer wished to honor the man who had fathered her sister’s child?
Madison would probably never know. Unless there was another page, another entry ripped from the journal for secrecy sake and inadvertently left behind, she would probably never understand Juliet’s ultimate decision to leave the gold hidden in the chair. But one thing was now clear. The gold, and the necklace, had belonged to Juliet.
The knowledge was slow to sink in.
The gold, and the necklace, had belonged to Juliet.
Juliet left her home and its contents to Granny Bert. Her grandmother sold them to Madison. Even though the chair changed hands a couple of times, carrying the hidden treasure along with it, Madison had purchased it back. There was only one deduction to make.
The gold was hers! All four nuggets and this tacky, tasteless necklace belonged to her.
The knowledge was stunning. Madison grabbed for the desk to steady herself, even though she remained seated. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real!
And, yet, it was.
Suddenly, Madison couldn’t wait to share the full story with Brash.
Twenty-Eight
Lydia deCordova was in her prime, having all four of her children and most of her grandchildren together again. It was like Christmas all over, she beamed. She prepared a huge feast, followed by the cakes Megan, Bethani, and Brash’s niece Ava had baked with such enjoyment. A handful of friends joined the family celebration, including Cutter, Genny, Matt and Shannon, and their son. Granny Bert even brought Sticker along, their differences patched for the time being.
Madison had a token gift for her husband to open at the party, but she told him his real present was too large to wrap and was waiting for him at home. The wicked gleam in his eye brought a blush to her face, but most of the guests knew about the chair. His father, both brothers, and a nephew had carried it from Granny Bert’s garage and deposited it, for now, in the downstairs library. Madison thought it poetic justice that the chair had come full circle, returning to the very room it once sat in.
She didn’t mention its secret, of course. The fewer people who knew about the gold, the better.
She enjoyed the day with his family, but she thought it would never end. When the men went down to the fishing hole, she smiled and shooed her husband away, pretending she didn’t mind. When Andy deCordova insisted they stay for leftovers, Blake answered for them. After skipping a full day of eating, the teen had meals to make up for and food to eat. As an afterthought, he asked his mom if it was okay. She nodded and lied through her teeth, her smile never giving away her impatience and her jumbled thoughts.
If she thought keeping a secret from her husband was torture, it was nothing like wanting to share the truth with him now! The day dragged by, minute by minute, while her mind and her emotions bounced all over the place.
They could buy those cars.
They could pay for college.
They could be debt free.
They could spend their fortune any way they chose. They could start with that l
ong-awaited honeymoon.
By the time they finally made it home, Madison was antsy. She dragged her husband to the formal library and presented the charcoal-tweed chair with a flourishing hand movement. Brash was thrilled with the chair and duly impressed by her newly acquired upholstery skills. The chair’s history, sans gold, amazed her audience, much as it still amazed Madison. The full story, the one including the gold, was for Brash only, and not the three teens. After another round of birthday wishes and hugs all around, the girls disappeared to the third floor, and Blake helped Brash lug the heavy chair up to the master bedroom to begin its reign there.
With the kids settled and the house quiet for the night, Madison smiled at her husband. “I have one more present for you, Mr. deCordova.”
That wicked gleam returned to his dark eyes, and he reached for his wife. “I was hoping you’d say that, Mrs. deCordova.”
She accepted his lingering kiss before amending, “Okay, maybe two more. But let me give you this one first. I promise. You will like it.”
“I’m sure I will,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck as he deftly edged her back toward the bed.
Madison twisted from his arms. “Not yet. First, I have something to tell you.”
A strange look crossed Brash’s face. His eyes darted to her flat stomach. “I, uh, know now might not be the right time to mention this… We never really talked about starting over, but… but…”
Realizing where his thoughts led, Madison burst out laughing. “No, silly! I’m not pregnant.”
The relief on his face was laughable. “Whew. I love you, sweetheart, and I’d love making a baby with you. But I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“You’re right, we haven’t talked about it. I’m not saying I’m totally opposed to the thought…”
“Nor am I. But the three kids we have are more than enough to fill my heart and make me the proudest dad around.”
