Mark of the Loon (Gen Delacourt Mystery Book 1)
Page 8
“Like I said. Cat’s AWOL and presumed dead.”
Too many cop shows.
“Oh. But I think we saw a big brown …” Madison’s voice trailed off as Janice shot her a sideways glance. “No, I’m mistaken. I’ve seen no cat. Well, Finnegan must have had a good long life, but I bet it was lonely.”
“I’ve been taking care of that hair bag all this time, and he turned tail and ran whenever he caught sight of me. Where did he think the food came from? Stupid cat cost me my job.”
The inspector called her name. Madison rose from the chair and pushed through the door into the living room. Janice followed.
“How do I get to the crawl space under this room?” he asked.
“I have no idea.” Madison looked at Janice. “Do you?”
“How should I know?” Janice said. “I work up here.”
“There has to be a basement or something below ground level,” the inspector replied. “There’s no obvious entry, like a door or a window. But this house has a raised foundation, and I can tell by the vibration of the water pipes they aren’t buried in cement. I’ve been around long enough to know there’s a hollow space below this room. But I can’t find the door.”
Janice choked, then broke into a coughing fit.
“What’s the matter?” Madison asked. “Do you need some water?”
“No, just sucked in some dust is all. The mere thought of a whole other area to clean about put me over the edge.” Janice yawned and covered her mouth with her palm. “Well, if that’s it, I’ll get back to tidying up.”
She waved, then whirled around on her rundown sneakers and hastened back to the kitchen.
“I’m not concerned.” Madison regarded the inspector. “This isn’t my first rodeo. It might be out in the yard somewhere. Someone was digging by the garage a while back. I thought they were looking for the septic tank, but maybe they were looking for a way to get in.”
“I’ll note that sections of the plumbing could not be inspected.”
“Works for me.”
Chapter Fourteen
When Jack barked at the sound of the doorbell, Madison instinctively checked the clock on the microwave. Seven-fifteen. The movers were right on time. But she opened the door to find Gen and Anna with their hair coiled into scarves and sporting Zorro masks. They leaped into the room and yelled, “Trick or treat!”
“Wow, a treat instead of a treatment,” Madison said. She raised a hand to high-five each. “What’re you doing here dressed like scullery maids?”
“We came to help,” Anna said. “And we brought cinnamon rolls for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. And dinner is a surprise, and our extra clothes are in the car.”
Gen grinned “We’re spending the night.”
Madison threw her arms around the pair and squeezed. “I love you so much. You didn’t have to help me today.” She hugged them again, one at a time. “Moving sucks, and I do it way too much. That’s why I didn’t ask you.”
“Yeah, but we have a stake in this new place,” Gen said. “We want to see it.” She pointed at the living room windows. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving the drapes?”
Madison beamed. “They belong to the new owner. She bought the couch, the chaise, the buffet. She bought it all. Thanks to you, Gen, I own a furnished house.”
A woman of her word, Madison’s buyer had been keen to acquire the stylish digs. The sale had been smooth, effortless from beginning to end. On the other hand, the purchase of the Mill Creek Road property was a rocky transaction. The process had been marred by countless starts and stops, with jilted Velasco the cause of numerous delays.
Someone less committed to owning the cottage would have given up. Madison had clung to her patience. She was determined and undeterred. The sale finally closed six weeks after her visit to the courthouse.
Good thing Madison’s buyer was a patient woman, too.
“I’m only taking my clothes, bedding, photos, and my kitchen stuff.”
“Leaving the potted plants?” Gen asked. “You’ve had some of them for years.”
“Plenty of gardening to do out there.”
“What’s in the boxes?” Anna pointed down the hall.
“Some things of Mom and Dad’s.” Madison turned away. “I hired those two college guys Anna recommended to do the heavy lifting. They should be able to get most of it in one truckload. My personal stuff will go in the Toyota.”
“Heck, Mad,” Anna said, hands on hips. “You’re skinny. You’ve lost weight.”
“You’re right,” Gen added. “Check out that tiny little be-hind.”
“Packing, stressing. You know.” Madison plucked at the loose denim covering her thigh. “Feels good to be back in clothes that fit. The elastic waist thing was getting old.”
The doorbell clanged again.
“I’ll bet that’s the guys,” Madison said.
She peeled open the door and stepped aside.
Gen’s eyes popped at sight of the ripped duo standing on the front steps. The two tall, dark, and handsome hard-body twenty-year-olds looked strong enough to pick up all the women at once. Dirty old sneakers, faded, low-slung blue jeans and torn sweatshirts only added to their brawny appeal.
“Hey, Anna,” one of the boys said. “Thanks for getting us the work. You won’t be sorry.”
“Good morning, Derek,” Anna said. “No problem, I’ve heard great things about you guys. Uh, you’re accomplished movers, I mean. I’ve heard that. Madison is the boss. And Gen’s an attorney. So don’t break anything.”
“Hell-oooooo,” Genny and Madison said in unison.
“And this is Truck,” Derek said, indicating his friend.
“Of course it is,” Genny flashed her most engaging grin.
The boys smiled back.
“Where do you want to start?” Derek asked.
“The boxes down there and in the kitchen.” Madison pointed to various piles. “They’re labeled and color coded to show which room to put them in when we get to the new place. All the furniture in the house stays. The pieces in the garage go with us.”
“OK, let’s do this,” Truck replied. “We’ll have you outta here in no time.”
* * *
The drive from Santa Rosa took just under half an hour, and time passed quickly as the caravan of vehicles hurtled up the 101 and through Healdsburg. When signs announcing Simi Winery appeared, they left the interstate and wound up Mill Creek Road, arriving at the rusted ironwork just before noon.
Madison unlocked the gate and swung it open, then stood, tapping a foot and contemplating the sky. The weatherman had been predicting a downpour all week. The clouds overhead looked perilous.
A storm might move in by the end of the day.
She pointed to the heavens, then angled back into the driver’s seat. With a shouted, “Wagons ho,” she urged the cars onward with an arcing roll of her hand.
Two minutes later, she unlatched the front door and leaped across the threshold. Jack was tucked beneath her arm. He wiggled from her grasp, then raced through the foyer and out of sight.
“I can’t believe it.” Madison skipped into the living room, followed by Anna and Gen. A note was taped to the wall. She stopped so quickly they almost ran into her backside. She leaned over to read.
“Janice left a cake in the fridge. I hope it’s not poisoned.”
“What’s a Janice?” Genny skirted Madison and wandered about, stroking books and pictures and running her fingertips across the shiny patina of aged wood. “Oooohh, I love the way she’s decorated the place. Very Eva Gabor meets the simple life.”
Jack sprang onto the couch and snuggled his face into the pillows, then leaped off the arm and ran into the kitchen. He was back in seconds, spinning crazy circles on the rug.
“Somebody’s ecstatic,” Anna said.
“Janice is the cleaning lady I told you about,” Madison said. “Odd gal who lives next door. Exactly what Anna predicted the night we came for the phone and saw the
light in the house. It must have been her. C’mon, let’s have a look around.”
They walked through the rooms, snaking open curtains and shades and cranking windows up to let in the air. As the boys began to carry in boxes, Anna opened her bag and took out matches and a wad of dry sticks wrapped with string.
“No smoking,” Madison said.
“Sage,” Anna explained. “I need a plate or something to hold under it so the ashes won’t get all over.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Light this and walk through the house. The smoke will convince any unhappy spirits to pack up and leave.”
“There are no unhappy spirits,” Madison said.
“Mrs. Blackburne died here,” Anna replied.
“Mallory was wonderful.”
“Wow, first name basis.” Anna struck a match. “How do you know she’s friendly?”
“I think she spoke to me in a dream,” Madison said.
Anna looked jubilant. Genevieve’s face fell.
Madison groaned. “Don’t over-react. Besides, she died years ago. Her husband before that. I bet she had a broken heart. That’s their picture over there. See how they’re looking at each other?”
“Okay so back up to ‘you’ve talked to her in a dream,’” Gen said.
“It was nothing. Just my imagination working overtime while I was stressed.”
“Dreams can be important,” Anna said. “Sometimes they help us work through emotions. Maybe you were looking for an answer about why you never called Coleman Welles.” She blew the smoke in Madison’s direction. “He sort of casually asked me how you were last week.”
“Don’t start,” Madison said. “I haven’t had time for anything lately. Way too much going on.”
But she felt a twinge at the mention of his name.
“Come on.” She waved toward the back of the house. “I want you to see the hutch she built into the kitchen. Aside from the day they let me in for the inspections, I wasn’t allowed to spend a minute here during the escrow. I’m dying to really look around. And wait ‘til you see her clothes.”
* * *
Sears delivered a brand new mattress and box spring that afternoon, and the movers swapped it for the bed in the master bedroom. But Madison changed her mind, negating her plan to have the department store deliveryman haul the old set away. Instead, she asked the boys to store it in the garage. The dump didn’t seem a fitting end to the place where Mallory drew her last breath.
They spent the afternoon unpacking clothes and cooking gear and putting linens on the beds. Six hours after their arrival, dusk was fading to total darkness. The sweaty, dirt-streaked lads accepted a beer and a check and drove away, honking and hooting.
“Darn,” Genevieve said. “It’s Halloween and we’re already out of eye candy. What to do?” She looked forlorn, then her face twisted into a zany grin.
Knowing Gen, something was about to happen.
She ran out the front door and returned brandishing two chilled bottles of Moet Chandon. Anna pulled brie and paté and crab dip from a cooler stowed in the pantry earlier that day. A grill appeared from nowhere. They seasoned rib eye steaks and stashed them in the fridge. Gen rinsed a bowl and set it on the sideboard to drain, ready for the Ceasar salad they’d packed.
“It pays to have friends with good taste.” Madison accepted a flute of champagne. “Or should I say, it pays to have friends who like things that taste good.”
They carried the wine and hors d’oeuvres into the living room and snacked on the sofa. Gen built a fire with kindling the boys had brought in. Jack, satiated with kibble and an exciting day, was already snoozing on the chair beside the hearth.
The room radiated warmth.
Madison felt as if she’d been there for years.
“Congratulations, Mad.” Genevieve raised her glass. “Here’s to your new home and your new life. May it be long, and sweet, and happy, and filled with love. To peace and love, baby.”
“And may Mallory watch over you,” Anna said.
Madison tipped her flute toward the fire. “To Mallory Blackburne. Thank you for welcoming us into your home. I hope we know your story one day.”
A draft rustled the drapes on the French doors.
“That was a confirmation,” Anna said.
“I’d like to think so,” Madison murmured.
They sipped in silence, then regrouped in the kitchen. An hour later they were once again before the fire, this time nibbling chocolate in homage to the Halloween candy town kids would be lugging home that night.
“Mad, you must be exhausted,” Gen said.
“Not as trashed as I would have been without your help. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, and the dinner, and you two. Everything.”
“We had fun,” Anna replied. “I love this house. It feels right to be here. I can imagine lots of get-togethers in front of this fireplace. Makes you wish the walls could talk, doesn’t it?”
“For sure,” Madison said, staring into the fire. Jack trotted to his mistress and whined. “Jack needs to pee, and our fire needs more fuel. Can I get anything out of the car for you?”
“You get the wood,” Gen said. “I’ll get our stuff.”
Madison walked through the mudroom, flipped a switch, opened the back door and found a dark yard that should have been flooded with light. She rattled the switch up and down several times.
No luck.
Jack cozied up to a bush at the far end of the patio. Madison bent down next to the door and loaded her arms with wood, then straightened and carried it back inside.
She dropped the wood beside the hearth and returned for the dog. When he didn’t come, she got a flashlight from the mudroom shelf and flicked it on, then walked toward the garage and called.
“Jack. Jackie!” A rustling on the path sent her to investigate. She turned toward the front of the house just as the dog bolted from the dark, barking furiously.
He raced through the open back door.
Madison chuckled and turned to follow, but stopped at the sound of scraping shrubbery behind her. She spun around and pointed the light at the noise. A figure emerged from the darkness and stopped just beyond the brightest part of the beam.
Madison smiled, taking in the ski mask and full-body Halloween costume printed with a white skeleton. “Hi, Genny. Trick or treat. My dear, you’ve wasted away to skin and bones. I think you need more chocolate. But I demand a trick, or there will be no more candy for the little children. Oh, but wait, this is your trick, isn’t it?”
The skeleton seemed surprised at her calm demeanor. Madison took a step forward, then lunged and threw her arms into the air.
“Boo!”
The black face jerked back like a cartoon figure struck by an unseen hand. Fists came up, pummeling the air like a boxer jabbing a punching bag. A whoosh of air from the costumed mouth ended with a guttural grunt, as though the trickster had taken a blow to the stomach.
Anna came to the back door. “Who are you talking to out here?” She covered her mouth and screeched like a banshee.
The figure turned and fled.
Madison screamed next, knowing now that it couldn’t be Gen. The skeleton had an Adam’s apple. She raised the lamp, but the man was gone. They could hear him sprinting away through the brush.
Madison stifled another scream, then turned and ran past Anna with such haste she tripped and sprawled across the mudroom floor.
“What the heck are you guys rough-housing about?” Gen asked. “I can hear the shrieking from upstairs.” She laughed and moved to stand over her prone friend. When Madison didn’t rise, her smile faded and she reached down to grasp her forearm.
“What happened?” Gen cried.
“Some stupid guy.” Anna’s voice was shaky. “In a Halloween costume. He ran off.”
They lifted Madison and half-dragged her into the living room, then propped her like a rag doll on the couch.
She and Anna told Gen the story.
The now-eerie darkness revealed nothing.
* * *
Twenty minutes later they were again ensconced before the blaze, this time wrapped in blankets. Each had a snifter of brandy within reach.
“So?” Gen said. “Theories?”
“Velasco,” Anna replied.
“He’s a candyass. He might’ve paid someone to do it, though.”
“Why?” Madison asked. “Seems an odd choice for revenge.”
“Not if the goal is to scare you,” Gen replied. “If you’re terrified, someone could snap the place up after they run you off.”
“Totally unpleasant suggestion,” Madison said. “Crud. And I was so happy.”
“I vote for a neighbor kid pulling a Halloween prank,” Anna said.
“Big kid,” Madison said.
“What about that Janice person?” Genny asked. “She lives close.”
“Janice is crabby and eccentric, but she seemed harmless enough,” Madison replied. “Still, maybe it’s best we don’t eat the cake.”
“It was somebody, that’s for sure,” Anna said.
Madison sighed. “Who might want revenge besides Velasco?”
“Your minister friend, mad he doesn’t get to slink around anymore.” Gen replied.
“Thanks.” Madison rolled her eyes. “Comforting.”
“Well, like Anna said, it’s somebody.”
Anna stirred. “When I first saw him, I thought it was one of the boys who helped today. But do you think Truck or Derek would come back?”
“No. I choose your other theory,” Madison said. “It’s Halloween. High school football player who accepted a dare to scare the new neighbor. It just makes sense.” She shivered. “But do you know what makes absolutely no sense?”
“What?” Gen was always game.
“The way the guy’s head jerked back, like he got smacked between the eyes. The way he tried to fight something off. How fast he ran away. He was the one who came to do the scaring, after all.”