“There’s a whole lot of ‘vanishing’ going on, if you ask me,” she huffed, picking up her bag and heading to the office alcove off the kitchen.
“In the hierarchy of things, I’d say your imminent danger outranks other concerns,” Mike ventured once he figured his partner had enough time to simmer down.
He listened to the sounds of electronics coming to life, biding his time until Madeline was willing to speak to him again. After a couple of minutes, he recognized the sounds of the printer spitting out a full-color image.
“There,” Madeline said as she came back into the living room and handed Mike the photo, “that’s your visual aid to show people when you start knocking on doors tomorrow.”
An incensed bark escaped Mike as his equanimity began to crumble. “Now wait a second,” he said, rising off the sofa, photo dangling limply in his hand, “this case is your baby,” he said, trying to foist the picture back into Madeline’s hands.
“It’s our case. We’re partners, remember? And as I recall your only case to date has been solved. And since I’m going to be virtually bound to the Alexander estate for the next three days, you get to do the canvassing. Besides, it was you who lost her,” Madeline said, arms folded, a satisfied smile threatening to spoil her intractable stance. This last comment caused Mike’s jaw to clench. “Okay, then—I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said breezily, walking behind the sofa toward the front door.
“You’re throwing me out?” Mike asked incredulously. “I thought I was going to stay here tonight.” Madeline stopped and regarded him in disbelief. “I don’t mean…I just meant, you know, to stay here for security reasons…or emotional support…I don’t know,” he finished lamely.
“You know, Mike, I’m really not in the mood tonight,” Madeline said bluntly. As the two stared each other down, the absurdity of all that had transpired in the last thirty-six hours hit home. Like two people trying to win a staring competition, twitches and snickers began to break out. Within seconds they were laughing so hard they had to hold onto the sofa for support.
“Does this mean I can stay the night?” Mike asked through the last gasps of laughter. Madeline tried to regain her upper hand, but it was too late and she was just too wrung out.
“You sleep out here,” she said as she went to double check the alarm and the locks.
“Oh, come on—I need a decent night’s sleep too,” Mike lobbied. Madeline glanced at her watch and calculated how many hours of horizontal time she had.
“You lay one hand on me and you’re out,” she said, leaving Mike to turn off the lights.
Mike did as he was told and threaded toward the glow coming from Madeline’s bedroom. He didn’t need sex; he just needed to guard his best friend in the world.
FIFTEEN
Madeline was barely out of the shower when her cell phone rang. Mike groaned awake as she snatched the phone off the side table. Cherie. She checked the time: 6:23. Not already, she thought as she took the ringing phone into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Birthday Girl,” Madeline said as she switched on the coffeemaker. It was a glib effort, but unfortunately it didn’t stand a chance of soothing Cherie’s frazzled state of mind.
“Ross isn’t coming back this morning, like he promised me he would.”
Oh God, not this, Madeline thought, sinking onto a kitchen chair. She had seen the warning signs posted along the way but chose to ignore them, figuring the Alexander marriage wasn’t any of her business. Ross’s enthusiasm had been keen in the beginning, suggesting to her he’d support anything that would keep his wife occupied and let him go about his merry way.
“When does he get in?”
“I have no idea,” Cherie pouted. Madeline wasn’t quite ready to play twenty questions. She gave Cherie a moment to elaborate. “I was too mad to ask him. I hung up on him and he hasn’t called back.” Cherie’s voice dissolved into a raspy croak as she lost the battle to keep from crying.
Madeline rested her forehead on the palm of her free hand. She had already gotten a mental visual of how the rest of the day was going to play out. Many others would be driven to tears in an effort to salvage all the planning that had gone into this weekend-long bash.
Mike laid a hand on her shoulder as he stumbled into the kitchen wearing one of her robes, a sight that would’ve normally made her laugh with abandon. It did distract her from Cherie’s wailing long enough to miss what she had said.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Madeline asked.
“I said, Ross isn’t coming back today.” Madeline held the phone away from her ear and looked at it with disgust. “He’s going to miss the entire first day of my party!” Cherie yelled before she started blubbering again.
“Cherie, look I need you to pull yourself together—”
“I can’t!” she howled. “It’s ruined. Everything is just ruined!”
Mike slipped a mug of coffee in front of Madeline. She looked up and gave him a pinched smile of thanks. Mike pantomimed eating a bowl of cereal as an offer to make her something to eat. Madeline shook her head.
“Cherie, I just got out of the shower. I’m going to get ready and I’ll be at your place as soon as I can…” Mike got Madeline’s attention and acted out buttering a slice of toast. Madeline waved him away, but like an Italian mama, he persisted.
“Cherie, you need to stop crying and listen to me. Have you had a shower yet?” Madeline asked. Again she was distracted by Mike. Okay, okay! she mouthed, giving in to the toast offer. “What time is Delia coming to do your hair?” The crying was replaced by sniffling.
“Eleven,” Cherie said, her voice faint and childlike.
“Okay. That gives us plenty of time. And Sally’s doing your makeup?”
“Uh huh.”
Madeline rolled her hand as though she were encouraging Cherie to keep going. “When?” she prodded.
“When I call her.”
“Okay. Everything is going to work out fine—”
“How can you say that?” Cherie spat indignantly. “My husband has totally bailed on me. I’m going to be standing there—in front of all my friends—and they’re going to know Ross doesn’t love me anymore!” Cherie sobbed. “I can’t face it…I just can’t face any of this!”
“Cherie, listen to me—you are going to face it and face it like the strong, beautiful, poised and together woman that you are. Do you hear me? You are Cherie Alexander. Your adoring husband, the highly acclaimed Ross Alexander, has been waylaid by one of his future Oscar-winners. You are going to be admired all the more for your dignity in the face of adversity. You will have love and lavish gifts showered upon you on this momentous occasion.”
The line went quiet and even Mike was dumbstruck by this rousing pep talk.
“Cherie?” Madeline asked the silence.
“I’m here,” she said sheepishly.
“Good.”
“Am I really going to be able to pull this off?” Cherie asked.
“You better believe it! You’ve got a hundred guests and an army of tradespeople who are counting on you. You’re Hollywood royalty, Cherie. The show must go on.” Madeline looked up at Mike as he placed a slice of buttered toast in front of her. Both of them had to fight to keep from laughing.
“I’m never doing one of these celebrity ego orgies again,” Madeline said as she towel-dried her hair. She blasted it with the blow dryer for a couple of minutes, then brushed it as she came out of the bathroom and stood in front of her closet.
“Did you get back to sleep after that alert went off?” Mike asked. Like a guest who wants to be invited back, he was making the bed so Madeline wouldn’t have to.
“Yes, but I lay awake for over an hour,” Madeline said, letting herself be distracted from the chore of trying to figure out what to wear. She grabbed her phone off the bedside table and revisited the photo alert that had
come in at three in the morning. There, caught in the flash of the security camera, was a very startled neighborhood cat.
“At least we know it works,” Mike said, peering over her shoulder. “It might be deterrent enough to keep Usherwood away.”
Madeline gave him a dubious look. Even if Lionel Usherwood had been living in a cave for the last three years, it wouldn’t take him long to become acquainted with the latest technology and ways to get around it. He was in a whole different class than they could ever hope to be in, partly because they weren’t criminally inclined to start with.
“So, what’s the agenda?” Mike asked.
“I’m heading over to Cherie’s as soon as I can get my act together,” she said while peeling off her robe and slipping into a light blue sheath dress. Mike helped her with the zipper. “I’d like to talk to Vivian, but I imagine Cherie will suck up most of my time. I guess I can’t really complain about that, considering she’s paying dearly for my services.”
“I suppose that’s some consolation,” Mike agreed.
“I need to spend some time following up on Teresa’s two other former employers, but that’s going to have to wait until I sneak away this afternoon.” While she was thinking about it, she set an alarm to call Brian at 12:30 to get a status report.
“Anything I can do to help?” Mike asked. “If you give me the names and numbers, I can make the calls for you.”
“Thanks, but I think it would be better for me to make the calls.” Mike looked a little put out by this. “I haven’t really had time to bring you up to speed on this case yet.” Madeline let out a big huff, frustrated by almost everything on her plate. She would’ve liked nothing better than to sit in her office and brainstorm with Mike over their new case. But that was going to have to wait.
“You’ll need to check with Philippe to see when he wants you at his facility. I’ll send you his contact info. Everyone working in catering will need to convoy over to the estate in his vans. Since you’re not really involved with the food prep, you can spend your morning trying to find someone who knows Teresa, or whatever her name is.” Mike didn’t seem too excited by the prospect.
“It’s what we do, remember?” Madeline said sarcastically, though she couldn’t help but smile at the image of Mike going door to door with photo in hand. Something told her it would be a futile endeavor, but she knew every angle available had to be pursued. In this case, there weren’t many. At some point, she would have to scrutinize the rest of the staff. Talk about lousy timing, she thought as she slipped into a pair of platform sandals.
The fact that Mike hadn’t said anything in the last minute caught her attention. She turned around and found him staring out the window.
“Look, if I wasn’t inexorably tied up, I’d take that photo around myself. But we’re a team, and I need—”
“I don’t mind knocking on strangers’ doors,” Mike said somberly. Madeline regarded him as she put on her diamond studs.
“What is it then?” By the expression on his face when he turned around to look at her, she knew something heavy and uncomfortable was coming her way.
“Denial is the weapon we use against ourselves,” he said simply.
In the back of her mind, Madeline had been preparing to defend herself for the division of labor that she was conveniently unable to participate in. Instead, what she got was a blow to her solar plexus. Hearing that simple statement, she realized there was nothing harder in life to dodge than the truth.
“Do you remember when I called you from jail?” Mike asked. The way he was looking at her sent chills through her body. She knew what she was about to hear was an assessment of herself she wasn’t emotionally or mentally prepared to deal with. She met his gaze and held it for as long as she could stand it.
“Yes,” she replied coolly as she fastened her wristwatch. Mike waited until she gave him her undivided attention again before continuing.
“I told you that I had been picked up on bogus charges. I begged you to come bail me out and you only agreed to help if I went into rehab. You remember?” Madeline nodded her head but lowered her eyes. Her heart began to thud.
“Mike, if you’re trying to get back at me for being tough when you needed me to be—” Mike’s features softened but his stance remained firm.
“The point I’m trying to make here is that you weren’t going to make it easy for me in order to make it easier for yourself. You, despite your comfy lifestyle and years of insulation, knew that I would continue to self-destruct unless someone had the courage to intervene…”
Madeline tried to laugh, but it came out more like a self-conscious wheeze. “I’m not sure I know where you’re headed with this…”
“I think you do,” Mike said.
“It’s late. I need to go,” Madeline said, stashing her phone in her purse as she got ready to leave. Mike walked across the room and made himself a human barrier in front of the doorway.
“You are in denial about the threat Usherwood poses to you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mike,” Madeline said, righteous indignation giving fire to her words. “I haven’t stopped thinking about him since Conrad called me over to his office.” Mike tilted his head ever so slightly, a gesture that was tantamount to waving a red flag.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“I’ve been there, Maddie. I know what avoiding reality looks like.” Madeline snorted her disapproval for this unwarranted attack.
“Look, don’t try to equate your former addictions with being stalked by a murderous vengeance seeker. There’s no comparison.”
“Can you honestly tell me you’re not using Cherie’s melodrama to hide from the threat Usherwood poses to you?”
“This is ridiculous. I’ve got to go. Move!” she said when Mike refused to let her pass.
“Tell me you know the danger you’re in. Tell me that you will listen to me when I’m trying to protect you!”
The forcefulness of Mike’s words stopped Madeline in her tracks. To her horror, tears filled her eyes.
“Now look what you’ve done,” she said, retreating to the bathroom to get a tissue. She blotted the tears before they ran down her face and marred her makeup. “Can we talk about this later?” she asked sullenly. The tone of her voice reminded her too much of Cherie Alexander. She found herself laughing and crying at the same time, a state that made her feel ridiculous. She dried her tears again with shaking hands and gave Mike an apologetic, embarrassed smile.
“Okay, point taken,” she relented. “But you’ve got to realize I’m in no position to go all to pieces right now. What can I do—bail on my commitments so I can paralyze myself with fear? No matter how you look at it, I have to stay strong right now. There’s just no alternative. I wish the FBI had done their job properly so I wouldn’t have to feel like any minute I’m going to be grabbed from behind and have my throat slit.”
Mike’s face grew pale as Madeline said this. She sat down on the corner of the bed, shoulders slumped forward.
“The only good thing about this weekend-long event is that I won’t have time to dwell on that psychopath. And I do feel safer when I’m behind the gates with lots of people milling about. And if I’m really lucky, maybe by Sunday evening they’ll have found that monster and blown his rotten brains out.” Madeline paused as she regarded her partner.
“So, you see old pal, I’m not really in as much denial as you think I am. Just enough to keep me functional. And having you to badger me and watch my back makes this scenario just about doable.”
Mike crossed to the bed and sat down next to her. They exchanged glances that almost brought tears to both their eyes. Madeline lowered her gaze and Mike slipped his arm around her and held her tight to his side. After a moment of quiet reflection, Madeline gave him a peck on the cheek and got to her feet.
“Good luck with Cherie,” Mike
said. There was so much worry on his face, Madeline could barely look at him.
“Thanks. And good luck tracking down our mysterious Latina.”
SIXTEEN
By the time Madeline pulled through the gates at the Alexander estate, the long U-shaped drive was already clogged with vehicles. This had to mean the service entrance parking had already filled up. She parked as close to the house as she could get and rounded up her paraphernalia, mentally bracing herself for the day ahead, a day that would blur into three without skipping a beat.
As she walked up the front steps, she was passed by a man dressed in a black suit and tie. He nodded perfunctorily before descending the steps and weaving his way to a black Town Car, double parked. He opened the driver’s side door and got in. It looked to Madeline like a special delivery of some sort. She hoped it was from Ross.
Helen held the door open for Madeline and closed it behind her. The housekeeper’s normally cheery attitude toward her had been replaced with distrust and annoyance.
“How’s everything going?” Madeline asked as pleasantly as she could in the face of such a cold reception. Helen snorted and folded her arms across her chest.
“Considering I was awakened by furious screeching and breaking glass at ten to six, I guess things are going about par for the course.” Madeline’s contrived smile wilted as she conjured up images of Cherie throwing a shrew-like tantrum.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, though it wasn’t really her place to do the apologizing. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“See if you can turn that bleached-blond hussy into something approximating a lady,” Helen said before turning on her heels and marching down the hallway toward the business end of the house. She did an abrupt about-face and retraced her steps.
“What have you found out about that girl?” she barked, all pretense of civility gone.
“Teresa?” Helen’s expression was all the confirmation she needed. “Unfortunately, nothing at this point.” Helen raised her eyebrows, a contemptuous smile punctuating her disdain for Madeline’s apparent ineptitude.
Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay Page 11
