I sucked in a breath as I wrapped my arms tighter around myself. “I see. So you’re questioning my statement?”
“No. On the contrary. I’m sure your mother is hiding something.”
I was too, and that worried the crap out of me. Should I recant my own statement? It was obvious Momma didn’t want anyone pursuing this, and I didn’t want to put her or anyone else in danger. But Walter Frey deserved justice, didn’t he? And besides, I’d set this ball in motion. I suspected it was too late to call a halt now. “What do you plan to do?”
“I’ll ask more questions.”
“Who are you going to ask?” When it was obvious he wasn’t going to answer, I lifted my eyebrows. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing, are you?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“If I had a dollar for every man who’s told me that,” I said in a teasing tone.
But Brady didn’t laugh. “Maggie, I’m trying my best to earn back your trust, and I assure you that I’m taking this seriously. In the meantime, if you feel unsafe, I want you to call me or 911. Promise? It’s always best to be aware of your surroundings, but you should be extra vigilant until we catch Walter Frey’s killer.”
“I understand this is police procedure, Brady, but I was meeting with Mr. Frey to get answers. You’re asking me to trust you to get them when no one else took this seriously before.”
“A man is dead, Magnolia. I’m a police detective. Let me do my job.”
I’d flipped a switch and Detective Bennett was answering—not Brady. But maybe that was for the best, especially if he was the impartial, fair investigator he claimed to be. “How do I know you’re not doing some bullshit investigation just to appease me?”
His eyes hardened slightly. “I’ve already told you I think there’s a link, so why would I bullshit you? To lie my way into your good graces?”
I groaned and turned away from him. Sometimes I could really be a bitch. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
His eyes lit up with amusement, and maybe a dash of surprise. “After what happened with the Goodwin murder, I understand your concerns.” He paused. “I’ll keep you in the loop. I won’t tell you what I plan to do, but I’ll let you know what I find out. Okay?”
I crossed my arms and gave him a skeptical look.
His face softened. “If I were in your place, I’d want answers too. I’m trying to help you, Magnolia. Will you let me?”
When he put it that way, how could I refuse? But I’d been on my own for so long, it was hard to give control to someone else. Even in this. “Okay.” I could see Alvin peeking out the window and pushed out a sigh. “Is that all? Because I’m about to get fired, and then I’ll never be able to pay the rent for my new apartment.”
He looked surprised. “Your mother said you lived with her.”
She was obviously still in denial.
He pulled out his notebook and a pen. “I’m going to need your correct address for the current police report. I’ll give it to Owen.”
“What?” I teased. “You can’t find out from your vast array of informants?”
He gave me a sheepish look.
“I’m teasing.” I rattled off the address, then looked up at him, hugging myself tighter against the gusty wind. “Thanks for taking this seriously.”
He stared into my eyes with an intensity that caught me by surprise. “Trust me when I say that I think there’s something here. But . . .” He hesitated. “While this investigation is ongoing, I need you to keep your involvement in Walter Frey’s murder to yourself. It’s safer if you don’t talk to anyone. There are details we’re not releasing to the media. And if you tell the wrong person . . .”
“Like Alvin?”
“Exactly.”
He followed me back inside, then stopped next to Alvin. “Thanks for letting me borrow Maggie for a few minutes. She had some very helpful information for an investigation I’m conducting.”
“Of course.” Alvin nodded, his eyes widening in excitement.
Brady turned back to give me one last glance. “Maggie, are we still on for dinner tonight?”
My mouth dropped open like a trap door at the gallows. “What?”
His grin spread. What the hell was he doing? I’d never agreed to dinner, but he’d also just told me that Alvin was a purveyor of gossip.
I put a hand on my hip. “Sorry, Detective Bennett. I have other plans for tonight.”
“More important than going out to dinner with Brady?” Alvin asked in disbelief.
Brady’s grin turned mischievous. “I know it can’t be to wash your hair. It’s gorgeous just the way it is.”
I’d pinned back the front strands, but the rest hung halfway down my back in natural loose waves. Definitely nothing special. “Nice of you to notice, Detective Bennett,” I said in a dry tone. “I had no idea you were so infatuated with women’s hairstyles.”
His grin spread. “Only yours.”
Damn him.
Before I could respond, he took a step toward the door. “If you have other plans, I’ll take a raincheck.” Then he walked out the door, the bell clanging behind him.
“I’m pretty sure that was police harassment,” I said in a low breath.
“He can harass me any day,” Rhoda said, fanning herself with a greeting card as she watched him walk away. “With handcuffs.”
That was not an image I wanted to entertain.
“Damn, girl,” Alvin said. “How can you tell that boy no?”
“It helps that it’s a one-syllable word.”
My phone vibrated with a text a minute later, and I was surprised to see it was Brady.
I figured it might help the rumor mill if there was a personal nature to my visit. Better to keep the focus off your involvement in the case.
I was tempted to scoff, but he was right about Alvin and Rhoda. Alvin didn’t seem at all disturbed by my short break. Instead, I spent the next hour deflecting questions about where and how I had met Brady.
Shortly after lunch, the bell on the door dinged, announcing a new visitor: my ex-best friend Maddie. We’d been friends all through school up until graduation, but she’d taken my unexplained and sudden departure to New York City as a personal insult and hadn’t talked to me for years. We’d reached a tentative truce in the produce aisle of a grocery store a few weeks ago, but I hadn’t seen her since. Now she was here with an older woman I didn’t recognize, pushing a baby stroller.
My heart leapt to my throat. I had no idea how Maddie would take seeing me, and I really hoped it wouldn’t cause a scene.
She and the woman huddled around a display of silver picture frames while I stood in the back, rearranging a stack of scarves that were already lined up with military precision. Maddie’s face lifted and her mouth parted in a small O when she saw me. She leaned in to say something to the woman and then headed straight for me, leaving the stroller with the older lady. I squared my shoulders, wondering if I should prepare for a verbal assault in case she’d agreed to the previous truce in a moment of insanity. But she gave me a hesitant smile.
“Hey, Magnolia.”
“Hi,” I said softly, suddenly nostalgic for the simple life I’d lived before I’d run away. I missed her. I missed my old life. I missed the simple feeling of belonging, which I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
I missed not having to look over my shoulder at every turn.
“Are you on lunch break from the Southern Belles?” she asked.
“No,” I said with a hesitant smile. “I work here.”
She looked surprised.
I lifted a shoulder into a half-shrug. “I work for Momma too. This is just extra money.”
“Working in a boutique?” Her question wasn’t unkind, but I sensed a condescending attitude.
I forced a smile. “Are you out shopping with the baby today?”
“And my mother-in-law.”
“So that’s Blake’s mother,” I said, trying to stifle my unease. Maddi
e’s high school boyfriend (now husband) Blake hadn’t been a nice person ten years ago, and after our recent encounter at Maddie’s Bunco night, which I’d unwittingly attended with Belinda, he hadn’t improved.
“Yeah.” Maddie looked around the shop, then back at me. “I just can’t believe you’re working here.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I could tell her I was here because Momma was dying and I couldn’t bear to leave her, but that would be a betrayal of my mother’s trust. Besides, if Momma told me tomorrow that her cancer had been magically cured, I’d still stay in Franklin. Brady had convinced me that he was really going to look into my father’s disappearance, and I was hoping for answers this time.
Maddie looked uncomfortable, especially when she realized the older woman was staring at us. “Well,” she said. “I better head home and get dinner started.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Yeah. You only have about four hours to whip up a meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
My tone certainly left something to be desired, but the look of pain in Maddie’s eyes caught me off guard. Based on our childhood plans and dreams, her life was unfolding exactly as she’d hoped. I was tempted to ask what was wrong, but she mumbled goodbye before I could get any words out. As I watched her and her new family leave the store, I had to wonder if our friendship had run its course. Our lives were vastly different now, and the image of what my life would have been like if I’d never left Franklin didn’t bring warm and fuzzy feelings. Domestication had never been for me.
As the rest of the afternoon progressed, I could see why Alvin had hired me—it would have been too much for two people. But thankfully things slowed down around three, when I needed to leave to help with the catering business.
“So tomorrow I’ll come in as soon as I’m done with Miss Ava’s Bible study,” I said, feeling ridiculous since Alvin had insisted scripture wouldn’t play much of a part.
Alvin winked. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
My phone rang almost as soon as I stepped out the door. I smiled when I saw it was Belinda.
“How was your first day?” she asked.
“All in all, it was good. I think Alvin likes me, but Rhoda acts like I’m a serial killer who took the job just to get close enough to drop her down a well.”
“Some people don’t like change. She’ll love you soon enough.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but God love Belinda for truly believing it.
She sighed. “Hey. A client just walked in, but I also called to see if you could meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
“I can’t.” I considered filling her in on the Ava Milton mess, but it would take more time than she had. “But maybe Friday. I’ll let you know when I get my schedule from Alvin.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”
It was a good thing I had Belinda’s cheery voice to brighten my afternoon. My mother was still in a foul mood when I showed up, but the kitchen was bubbling with activity. They’d learned better than to put me in charge of any food prep, but I could transfer food to pans and gather all the other necessary items.
Colt was already there, but he just gave me a grin and returned to work. I glanced up at the clock on the wall, feeling anxious. I still hadn’t asked for an advance on my salary.
Momma went out the back door to check on a loose shelf in one of the vans, and I took advantage of her absence to corner Tilly in the kitchen.
“I have a huge favor to ask,” I said.
Worry filled her eyes. “Your mother is in a mood, Maggie.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“It’s obviously something that will upset her if you’re asking me.”
She had a point. “I need to get my paycheck early.”
Tilly looked me over like I’d misplaced my brain, then pushed out a sigh. Understanding filled her eyes. “You need rent money.”
I nodded. “Momma gave me money when she thought I was leaving town, but I used it to pay down my credit cards.”
Her mouth pursed as she glanced toward the back door. “Lila has a firm policy about not giving advances.”
“But I’m her daughter.”
“All the more reason she’ll refuse.”
Would Ava wait? I suspected not, but then I remembered that she’d tricked me into signing the contract before I saw Momma. She’d take the check late, but I wouldn’t hear the end of it the entire time I lived there. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have signed anything without the money in hand. But all the Ava drama aside, I loved that place. I didn’t want to get out of the lease. “So I’m out of luck?”
A sly grin lifted the corners of Tilly’s lips. “Now I didn’t say that, did I?”
“What are you saying?”
She lowered her voice. “Just because Southern Belles doesn’t give advances, doesn’t mean I haven’t given out a personal payday loan every now and then.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, Tilly. I can’t take your money.”
“You most certainly can. Besides, you’ll pay me back on Friday.”
“Tilly”—my voice broke—“I don’t know what to say.”
“Imagine that,” Momma said as she walked through the door behind us. “Magnolia Steele without something to say.”
I spun around and gave her a glare.
“What are you and Tilly up to?”
“Nothing,” I murmured.
Tilly turned her attention to the sauce she had been stirring on the stove. “I’m not sure what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Uh-huh,” Momma grunted. “You both look guilty as hell. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of hotshot actress, Magnolia, but from what I can see, you can’t act your way out of a paper bag.”
Her barb struck deep, and I wondered once again why I’d stayed in Franklin. Momma clearly didn’t want me here.
I looked her in the eye. “Funny thing, Momma,” I said, ignoring the hitch in my voice. “I had no idea I was supposed to be acting with you.”
Pain and sorrow filled her eyes before she spun around and started barking orders.
I was dangerously close to tears, so I eagerly agreed to take a pan out to the van.
Colt was out there rearranging things, and he turned to take the pan from me. “You okay, Maggie Mae?” he asked quietly, sympathy in his eyes.
“Of course,” I said with a shrug.
He grimaced. “I may have stirred up shit and made her cranky. I asked her about working on your car. Sorry.”
I pushed out a breath. “Don’t worry about it. She was already ticked.” I looked into his eyes. “Did you know she and Ava Milton are mortal enemies?”
Something flickered in his eyes, brief enough that I would have missed it had I not been looking for a reaction. “Really? You don’t say.”
A non-answer if ever I’d heard one.
“I suppose Lila filled you in when you spilled the beans about your new place.”
“Yeah. And I dug myself deeper by agreeing to help Miss Ava host her Thursday Bible studies.”
His eyes widened. “You’re helpin’ with her Thursday morning meetings?”
“Why is that so surprising?”
“She doesn’t let just anyone into those meetings.”
“What are they doing? Picking out the pope? What’s with all the secrecy?”
“I’ve never been to one, so I have no idea what they do, but I doubt there’s much reflectin’ on the Bible.”
“That’s what my new boss at the shop implied. Should I be worried?”
His hesitation to answer ratcheted up my blood pressure. “You should probably be cautious.”
“I’m not a guest, Colt. I’m the hired help. She’s paying me fifty dollars.”
“It’s still best to stay on your toes.”
“What the hell, Colt?” I demanded. “Is she some Southern Godfather wannabe? I’ve got enough shit to deal with.”
The loo
k on his face . . . was he afraid?
I gasped and grabbed his arm. “Are you shitting me?”
He laughed, then shook me off, rolling his eyes. “For a city girl, you’re pretty damn gullible.”
“Not funny, Colt.”
“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that. I really don’t know what goes on at her meetings, but I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about, Maggie Mae. Miss Ava’s weapons of choice are rumors, and you’ve got plenty of those floatin’ around about you already. What more could she do?”
I really didn’t want to find out.
“Mags, I’m sorry. Really, I was just shittin’ you. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t piss her off.”
“Hello? Have we met? Pissing people off seems to be my specialty.”
He chuckled. “She obviously sees something she likes if she invited you.”
“She didn’t invite me. I’m supposed to help her serve refreshments.”
“Like I said, you’ll be fine. I’m just surprised. Most people have to earn her trust.”
This had something to do with my mother, no doubt about it.
“Do you plan on shootin’ the breeze all afternoon?” my mother asked from behind me. “Or are you actually gonna work?”
I headed back inside to help package up the rest of the food. When we were almost done, Tilly sidled up to me and handed me a folded piece of paper on the sly. I gave her a questioning look, and she winked. “Our secret.”
I leaned closer. “Is this an advance?”
“No advance,” she said with tears in her eyes. “A welcome-home gift.”
I turned my back to the room and then opened the paper, gasping when I saw she had given me a check for two thousand dollars.
“Tilly,” I whispered. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”
“No, my sweet girl. I can afford it,” she said, patting my arm. “You need something to get you started, but don’t put it toward your credit cards. Splurge on something for your new apartment. And don’t tell your mother.”
“I won’t.” I leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I love you, Tilly.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I love you too, girl.”
Act Two Page 11
