When the Stars Fall (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 2)

by Willis, Becki

  “Okay, okay, no more!” she finally insisted. “It-It hurts too much to laugh!”

  “Then stop laughing!” Blake grumbled.

  “We’re serious, Mom. We love Granny Bert, but it’s time we find a place of our own.”

  Bethani’s words sobered her right up. Wiping away a lingering tear, Madison peered at the twins to make certain they were serious. Both their young faces were set with determination.

  “That’s a big step, you know,” she said. “Not only financially-”

  “I’ll get a job, Mom, so I can help out.”

  “That’s sweet of you, Blake, and I appreciate it. And I may have to take you up on it. But more than the financial implications, if we buy a house, we’re making a commitment to stay here in Juliet. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but once we buy a house, there’s no backing out.”

  “What about renting?” Bethani offered.

  “Does that mean you’re having second thoughts about staying here and graduating from The Sisters High School?” Madison asked her daughter softly.

  Until recently, Bethani had been dead-set on returning to their old neighborhood in the Dallas suburbs. A new best friend and the opportunity to try out for cheerleader had done wonders for her opinion of the small community, but there were times when the teenager still got homesick. Madison understood all-too-well; there were times when she missed their old life, as well.

  The girl shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it’s pretty cool here. I think I can adjust.”

  It was more of an endorsement than Madison expected. Turning her gaze to her son, she asked, “Blake?”

  “You know how I feel. I’m in.”

  “Then I guess I should tell you that Granny Bert offered to sell me the Big House. I’m actually considering it, in fact, if I can find a way to afford it.” She ventured a nervous glance into their faces. “How would you feel about living there?”

  “It’s a little creepy, but as long as there’s no clothesline and no granny aerobics, I’m cool with it,” Blake proclaimed.

  “I haven’t seen the inside,” said Bethani, “but the outside looks pretty neat. As long as we paint it. Will I have my own bedroom?”

  “You can have two bedrooms, if you like. The place is huge.”

  “Can we go check it out?”

  “Yes, but I need to caution you. It needs some work. Okay, it needs a lot of work, but that’s where Home Again comes in.”

  “Can we go over there now?” Bethani asked.

  “Well, I guess. Granny’s gone this evening, so it’s just us.”

  “I call shotgun!”

  Madison laughed at her son. She only hoped she was still able to laugh, after hearing the twin’s assessment of the Big House.

  ***

  Granny Bert brought up the subject of the house the next day after church, asking if Madison had heard from Nick Vilardi yet. Madison allowed her grandmother a good five minutes to relive the glory of ‘hoodwinking that Hollywood hunk’ into doing her bidding before she answered.

  “No, I haven’t heard from him yet. I wonder if that’s a good sign or a bad one?”

  “Be patient, child. It will take him a while to get all his ducks in a row. Besides, you need the extra time to make sure the house is in your name. Apparently they’re sticklers about remodeling the house only for the family that will live there. I guess it’s a safeguard to keep people from profiting from the re-model by selling it the minute the paint has dried.”

  “I haven’t agreed to buy the house yet,” Madison reminded her grandmother. “At the risk of having the words engraved into my voice box, I must repeat: I have no money.”

  “I have the contract all drawn up, you know. All it needs is your signature. Take a look.” Granny Bert rummaged around on the table by her chair until she came up with a folder. She barely gave Madison time to look it over. “So? What do you think? Your cousin Larry can be here in thirty minutes to make it official.”

  “Actually, the twins and I talked about it and I have their blessing to buy the house. But…”

  “But?”

  “Granny, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I know it’s probably below market value, but there is absolutely no way I can afford a five hundred thousand dollar house.” She had known all along that owning the Big House was a pipe dream, but seeing the cold reality in black and white stung more than she expected.

  “You might need glasses, Maddy girl. Look at those numbers again.”

  Flipping back through the papers in her hand, Madison concentrated on the zeroes. “Granny!” she gasped. “Have you gone senile on me?”

  “No need to get nasty. I know it’s a lot, considering the age and condition of the house. We don’t even know yet if the foundation is stable or if the roof needs repair.”

  “But-”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” the old woman interrupted her. “The plumbing is old and rusty and the electrical wiring is a powder keg just waiting on a fuse. Someone drew all over the walls and the furniture is full of dust mites and spider webs. I know it’s a lot to ask for a pile of wood and stone a hundred years old, but I have my eye on adding a retractable awning to the motor home. I need that five thousand dollars I’m asking for the house.”

  “Granny, you cannot sell me that house for five thousand dollars!” Madison’s voice took on a shrill note.

  “Now don’t try to talk me down,” her grandmother warned. “I’m asking a firm five thousand.”

  “Then you have gone soft in the head. That house is worth five hundred thousand, and you know it. You’re practically giving it to me!” Oddly enough, her words rung with accusation.

  “I have seven grandchildren. I can’t be playing favorites, giving a house to one of you and not the others. No, you’ll have to buy the house, fair and square. I know it may mean making a few more sacrifices, but anything worth having is worth working for. There’s nothing more satisfying than knowing you’ve spent your hard-earned money on a worthy investment.”

  Tears welled in Madison’s hazel eyes. No matter what she called it and no matter what lesson she was trying to teach, Granny Bert was practically giving her the house.

  More than a house, she was giving her a future. Unable to hold the emotions inside any longer, Madison burst out in full-fledge tears.

  Pretending not to be moved by Madison’s gratitude, Granny Bert huffed. “You really do drive a hard bargain, don’t you? I know the house has a lot wrong with it. The kitchen will walk your legs off, the appliances are ancient, and there’s not enough bathrooms. Still, it’s better than living here with me, all cramped up. The kids need their space. A teenage girl shouldn’t have to share her bedroom with her mother, and a teen boy should be able to play his music as loud as he wants. As much as I’ve enjoyed having you here with me, I can’t be selfish. It’s time you had a home of your own, and a drafty old mansion seems as good a place as any. So I’ll consider owner financing. How does a hundred dollars a month sound?”

  “It-It sounds like I have the best gr-grandmother in the world!” Madison sniffled out the words.

  By evening, the papers were signed and Madison was once again a homeowner.

  But when she settled into bed that night, the reality of the situation sank in. Houses came with utility bills. Insurance payments. Taxes. She belatedly wondered what upkeep on a hundred-year-old home must be like.

  What on earth had she been thinking?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It was difficult to face Derron on Monday morning, knowing what she did about his personal life.

  Not that she begrudged the man a little happiness; with a mother like Dragon Lady, he deserved all the love and affection he could get. And if her newly made friend could somehow live out her own foolish schoolgirl fantasies, more power to him.

  Still, the images were hard to get out of her mind.

  “Word of warning,” Derron said, breezing past her in the break-room. “Dragon Lady is on the warpath.�
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  “Great,” Madison moaned, taking a swig of hot coffee and immediately wincing. Her tongue was still sensitive. “At least she cleaned up my office.”

  “Correction. Yours truly took care of that.”

  “Thank you, Derron,” she said with sincerity. “I appreciate it.”

  “It was the least I could do. You had a terrible ordeal. Are you sure you’re up to coming back to work so soon?”

  “Can’t sit around the house forever.”

  “Is it true that hunk of a police chief saved you from a burning house? I drove by the Big House, but I didn’t see any smoke damage.”

  “No, that is not true!” Madison laughed, shaking her head at the way rumors spread in this town.

  “Too bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a little mouth-to-mouth with the chief.” He waggled his brows. “I know I wouldn’t!”

  Madison squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the image that sprang to mind. Do not go there. Do not remember that you saw him kissing John-Paul Noble.

  “You okay, dollface?”

  “Just a little dizzy still,” she glibly lied.

  “Again, be warned. I saw the old bat loading the van with lots of heavy equipment. Don’t be surprised when she mistakes you for a packhorse.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  Forty minutes later, Darla Mullins piled Madison’s arms with yet another expandable tripod. When a camera slid from her sagging shoulder, the surveyor slapped it back into place against Madison’s back. “There. Just one more transit level and we’ll be set.”

  “You- You really expect me to carry all this?” Madison cried, dipping just in time to catch the tribrach that slid from the haphazard pile she was trying to balance.

  “Yes, and be careful with that. Do you have any idea how much that piece costs? It has an optimal plummet, which makes it more expensive.”

  “I don’t even know what this thing is,” Madison admitted.

  “It allows for precise plumbing of surveying instruments,” she said impatiently. “Now, follow me.”

  “What are you carrying?”

  “Field notes, of course. And flagging tape.”

  Beneath her breath, Madison muttered darkly, “Don’t strain yourself.” Of course, she carried the two lightest items.

  “Did you say something back there?” Darla asked, turning to give her a condescending glare.

  Madison would not give her the satisfaction of knowing she struggled. “Lead on,” she said with a falsely bright smile. She shifted the load upon her back and set off after the Dragon Lady.

  Darla took the most difficult path. She led the way straight through a narrow gap in a row of brush and undergrowth, instead of going fifteen feet out of the way to avoid the brush altogether. She took them up a hill without stopping, knowing it had to be difficult for Madison when carrying such a load, particularly with a sprained ankle. She marched relentlessly along, even when Madison begged her to stop so she could regroup.

  The stubborn little tribach finally slipped from Madison’s hold, bouncing as it hit the ground. Because it was a three-sided object, Madison was fascinated by how easily it rolled. She chased after it, stumbling as she did so. One leg of a tripod dipped low enough to snag a pile of dirt. It was the catalyst that toppled her entire load. Both tripods clattered to the ground, followed by a set of stakes and the surveying rods. The Abney level was next, then the brush ax.

  “Darla! Wait!” she cried. She looked around, but the other woman was nowhere to be seen. She had disappeared beyond the next row of trees, leaving Madison alone in the small clearing.

  “Since I’m already stopped, I might as well rest for a minute. She’ll turn around to boss me sooner or later and discover her packhorse is missing,” Madison grumbled aloud. She swung the camera and huge coil of rope off her shoulders, but left on the backpack. With only one item to weight her down, she could almost stand up straight.

  Despite it being mid-February with temperatures hovering in the low forties, Madison had already worked up a sweat. She swiped her hand across her forehead and allowed the cool air to blow over her. With her clothes damp with perspiration, it did not take long to become chilled.

  Madison was gathering up her collection, trying to assemble the items with a modicum of care and precision, when she heard the rumble of a motor. Good. Maybe Darla had gone back for the van. There was no reason they couldn’t have driven closer. The ground wasn’t that soggy, nor the terrain that heavily wooded.

  She tried to stack the tripods with their widest points on opposite ends to steady her load, but they kept tangling with the stakes. In frustration, she tugged on one rod and the entire bundle came tumbling down.

  “This is like wrestling an octopus!” she wailed. She stood up to rest her back, realizing the sound of the vehicle was coming much closer. It gunned its motor, somewhere just beyond that last row of bushes.

  Without warning, the bushes parted and an over-sized dirt bike leapt from the tangled growth. It sailed through the air with a projected landing of exactly where she stood. Maddy flew out of the way at the last second, feeling the heat of the tailpipe brush against her leg as she flung herself sideways.

  She landed hard on her shoulder. Dazed by the impact, she shook her head to clear it. She managed a few ragged breaths before she heard the bike circle and charge again.

  Scrambling to her feet, Maddy began to run. Her choices were limited in the small clearing. She could not reach the trees before the bike reached her, but she could run in a circle. She yelled for Darla as she took off in a crazy zigzag pattern that left her dizzy and spent.

  As the bike kept an uncanny pace with her moves, Madison took in as many details as possible. For a dirt bike, it was huge and heavy. The motor looked particularly menacing, as if it had been beefed-up aftermarket. Naturally the paint color was blood red, just like the helmet the rider wore. The facemask hid his face, but there was no mistaking the familiar khaki trench coat that he wore.

  By now nearing exhaustion, Madison’s movements grew clumsy. The air was thick with dust and engine smoke, clouding her vision. She made a miscalculation and stumbled on top of her pile of equipment, falling to her knees. The bike bore down on her, inches away from her face.

  She was completely at his mercy. He could take her down right now.

  However, slamming into Madison also meant slamming into the pile of equipment, which consisted of jagged edges and assorted metal. At the last possible second, the driver hurled upward into a jump, avoiding the potentially damaging heap by sailing over Madison.

  With the momentum of the jump, the bike headed toward the nearby clump of trees. Watching as the driver gunned the motor midair, Madison braced herself for the crash she knew was coming. It would be brutal, given the size of the tree in its path and the speed at which the bike soared through the air. Madison ducked her head, shying away from the impending crash.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of chrome as Trench Coat did some sort of last-minute maneuver. He twisted his body to one side, just enough to change the bike’s trajectory. It hit the tree line with a crash, but it somehow missed the biggest tree. She heard limbs rip and tear as the bike sailed among them and exited on the other side. Madison heard the motor gun once more, then roar off into the distance.

  She was still staring into the bushes, trembling in shock, when Darla burst into the opening. She was clearly out of breath and flushed, but her eyes zeroed in on her equipment without missing a beat.

  “What on earth happened?” she demanded. “What was that motor? Why are you on the ground? And why is my equipment scattered all over the place?”

  Madison tried to explain. She started three times, only to be interrupted by Darla’s rantings. The surveyor was more concerned about her equipment than any damage Madison might have suffered.

  “What is it with you?” Darla screamed at her. “You invite trouble! I’ve never had a moment’s trouble until you showed up, and now suddenly e
verything is ruined! Everything you touch is in shambles! You’ve messed up everything!”

  Madison made a snap decision. “You know what, Darla? I quit.”

  The woman was outraged. Her face turned an unattractive shade of mottled red. Her round eyes bulged and her hands clenched into fists. “You can’t quit!” she bellowed. “Who’s going to carry all this back to the van?”

  “I guess you are, because I’m walking back.” Madison was proud of herself for sounding so calm, when inside she was quaking. She turned to walk away and felt the first strike upon her back. She whirled around, eyes flashing. “Did you just throw that at me?”

  “Yes, just like I’m throwing this!” Darla flung a stake directly at her. If her aim had been true, the heavy rod would have hurt. As it was, it fell short of its mark and into the dirt at Madison’s feet.

  Darla Mullins, however, was not a quitter. She tried again. And again and again, until she finally struck Madison on the knee. For the most part, Madison allowed her to play out her anger. The efforts were tiring her, causing the overweight woman to huff and puff and molder a darker shade of red. When she paused to catch her breath, Madison offered the ultimate insult. She turned her back to her and began to walk away.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, you imbecile!”

  With renewed ire, the woman hurled everything she could find toward her retreating assistant. It wasn’t until she made a lucky shot and hit Madison upside the head with the tribach that Madison came to a halt.

  At almost two pounds, the instrument did its damage. Maddy almost went to her knees, but sheer determination kept her upright. Hand to the back of her head, she turned to stare at the crazed woman in shock.

  “Are you insane? You could have killed me!”

  “You’ll wish you were dead, when I get through with you,” she threatened. “I’ll sue your skinny ass for breach of contract! You can’t just walk out on me like that.”