by Jory Strong
But his use of success as the measure she should apply in passing judgment was like holding up a mirror. It made her realize she didn’t want success to be what determined whether she felt entitled to forgiveness or happiness or love.
Her gaze dropped to the final line.
Follow your dreams. Had I followed mine…
From behind them, her grandmother said, “Lift your hands and turn around slowly. I assume at least two of you are armed. If you reach for your guns, Madison will be shot.”
Shock whipped through Madison. And then jolted through her again at seeing the man standing next to Eloise and pointing a gun in their direction.
A chill swept over her at recognizing him from Tyler’s drawings.
“Fuck,” Shane said. “The car chase and gun fight was staged.”
“I tried to nip this search in the bud,” Eloise said, cold, hard eyes boring into Madison. “But you proved to be as stubborn and determined as your father was at the end of his life.”
Madison’s heart jerked into a faster beat. “You arranged for the hit-and-run.”
“Yes.” Gone was the facade of a woman just reunited with a grandchild she hadn’t known existed.
Shane’s stance shifted subtly, as if he was readying himself to protect her with his body. “You’ve had someone using Madison’s cell phone to track her location.”
Madison’s heart beat even faster, even harder.
Eloise gave an elegant shrug.
Nausea swelled with the realization that Shane and Tyler could have been killed because of her. That they might still be killed.
The man next to her grandmother looked capable of murder. With his darting eyes, he looked anxious to get it done and escape the mausoleum.
Eloise glanced at the gun visible in Shane’s hand, her expression tightening. “I assume he also left a confession. I was afraid he would when he came to me, riddled with conscience all these years later and demanding to know where you were.”
“You,” Madison said. “You were the one behind the phony birth certificate.”
“Of course. Walter came to his father and me to help clean up his mess. We did, to the extent we could. But he was too resentful and rebellious to trust us with everything. Now take the gun from Shane’s hand and bring it to me along with the other things.”
Next to her both Shane and Tyler tensed.
“No,” Shane said.
“This doesn’t need to escalate into violence,” Eloise said. “But be assured it will if the three of you don’t cooperate.”
She motioned Madison forward with an impatient gesture. “I assume he set up a trust fund for you?”
“Yes.”
“Consider that your payment for handing over the gun and confession. You can help your parents. You can make something of yourself. Now bring them here.”
Madison wondered how far out the police were. She wondered if her grandmother meant to take her hostage then discarded the idea. Without the confession and gun, it would be their word against hers, and Eloise probably thought she could label her a gold digger, even confess to the confrontation but spin it as Madison trying to plant evidence.
“Does his wife know?” she asked.
“I don’t know what he told Geneva. Take the gun from Shane and come here, Madison.”
For the first time there was a hint of sharp desperation in Eloise’s voice, as if she sensed impending danger, or had realized that maybe they now knew too much.
Madison reached for the gun. Shane resisted.
Their eyes met, battled for possession of the weapon that had killed her mother, fear sweeping into Madison when he released it.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” she whispered.
She took a step forward.
Tyler grabbed for her.
The man at her grandmother’s side reacted.
Pulling the trigger, once, twice.
She was thrown to the floor, covered by Shane’s body as bullets ricocheted and Tyler fired.
The man went down and didn’t move.
Madison began shaking. The overwhelming smell of blood whipped her back to the wreck, to Eli’s dying.
The guilt she’d suppressed, the belief that his death was her fault, for pushing to go to the concert, slammed into her. But the feel of blood on her face, the taste of it and the feelings she had for the men in her present, cast her from the past.
“Shane!”
She fought to get out from under him.
He laughed—of all things he laughed—though it ended on a hitch of pain.
“Flesh wound,” he grunted, rising to his knees. “Ricochet hit me.”
Tyler returned from kicking the fallen man’s gun away and checking his pulse.
“He’s dead,” Tyler said, using Shane’s T-shirt to apply pressure to the wound along Shane’s side.
Her grandmother was gone.
It didn’t matter. Even if she managed to flee the country, it didn’t matter.
What mattered were the two men who’d been brought into her life because of Walter Bramel’s desire for absolution, or forgiveness, or a hundred other reasons that weren’t important to her except to make her look at her own choices, her own beliefs, to force her to look at her own past and recognize the guilt that was driving her toward an unwanted destination—and let go of that guilt, let go of the belief that she couldn’t have the happy-ever-after, didn’t deserve it until she’d kept a promise she’d made as she grieved.
She reached for them, their hands meeting hers, one of Tyler’s still pressed to Shane’s side.
“Shane was right. I’ve been chasing a dream I didn’t really want. What I really want is to write songs and to be with both of you.”
Their smiles were a burst of sunshine across her heart and soul.
Shane pressed his mouth to her hair.
“Maddie,” Tyler said, eyes the blue of a forever sky.
“I need to go back to Richmond, to tell my parents, to make sure they’re okay. But I’ll come back.”
“Or we could go with,” Tyler said.
“I’d like that.”
She felt Shane’s smile against her hair before he leaned back. “Can’t let you get away now,” he said. “You’ve officially become a whale.”
Somehow a laugh escaped her tight throat. “You’re lucky I know what being called a whale means to a poker player. But if you’ll remember, the run of luck has been all mine.”
Tyler shook his head. “The luck has been mine, and Shane’s, for having you come along.”
Love swelled her heart and shone in their eyes. “Or we could agree, the luck belongs to all of us.”
Tyler exchanged a glance with Shane and grinned. “Possibly with a little assist from Grandma M.”
Shane laughed. “True.”
Thank you!
Thanks for reading Madison’s Quest. I hope you enjoyed it!
Reviews and ratings are more important now than ever. They help other readers find books. I’d appreciate it if you’d take a moment to review and rate Madison’s Quest.
I love connecting with readers! Visit my website at http://www.jorystrong.com (where you can also sign up to receive Book Alerts) or contact me at [email protected]. I can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.
Some of my other works are…
Inked Magic and the sequel, Inked Destiny: A ménage set in modern-day San Francisco where a changeling tattoo artist has come to the attention of two very compelling men—the son of a mob boss and an Elven lord.
Ghostland series: Set in a post-apocalyptic world where supernatural beings no longer hide their existence, and where angels and Djinn are heading for the ultimate battle over who will control Earth.
Supernatural Bonds series: Witches, Weres, faeries, elves, dragons, Drui and demons, there’s something for everyone as each heroine meets her perfect hero—or heroes.
Fallon Mates series: To avoid extinction, there’s only one hope for the winged inhabitants of the pla
net Belizair. Come to Earth and claim the perfect, genetically-matched mate, the catch—it has to be done in pairs, a feather-winged Amato must share a lover with a suede, bat-winged Vesti.
Crime Tells: Where mystery, family, and finding love while working as private investigators come together in a contemporary world.
And there are more, stand-alone stories. Information on them can be found at: http://www.jorystrong.com.
Other stories in the Crime Tells World
Lyric’s Cop (Crime Tells 1)
Solving a case about pilfered pooches is pretty tame work for a vice cop, but when the victim is your grandmother, well…the police take care of their own. Trouble is, one look at Lyric Montgomery, the PI his grandmother has hired to recover her stolen dachshunds, and Kieran Burke knows he’s got a problem. He’s never been turned on so fast—or so attracted to a hellion with a reputation for breaking the law.
Lyric Montgomery can’t believe she’s falling for a cop. She’s always had a little problem staying inside the lines, and Kieran is definitely a complication she doesn’t need. But his dominant, I’m-in-control attitude tempts her like fire tempts a pyromaniac.
Kieran may lay down the rules, but he quickly finds out that for Lyric, breaking them is half the fun, especially when it drives him crazy and evokes his special brand of “punishment.”
As the trail heats up, it isn’t the only thing burning hot enough to melt steel. Bad boy Kieran finds the only way to keep his sexy little pet detective safe may be tying her to his bed—permanently.
Cady’s Cowboy (Crime Tells 2)
When Sheriff Kix Branaman comes to the aid of a friend who has been suspended from the racetrack because her horses tested positive for cocaine, the last thing he expects to do is fall for a private investigator on the case. But one look at Cady Montgomery has him just about ready to hand her the rope to hog-tie him. And when she tells him to “tone down the randy ol’ cowboy routine” and keep things professional…well, that’s like waving a flag at an excited bull.
As soon as Cady Montgomery sees the sheriff from Texas, she knows that he’s trouble with a capital H for heartbreak. Lean, lanky, and gorgeous, he might as well have stepped out of a “Sexy Cowboys of the West” calendar. She’d like to keep her mind on the case, her heart out of risk, and her hormones under control. But that’s going to be hard to do around Kix—especially when his sense of humor and cowboy charm make her want to wrap her body around his and take the ride of a lifetime.
Calista’s Men (Crime Tells 3)
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like with a woman we actually cared about? One who belonged just to us? One who wanted more from us than a good time… A woman we could have together or separately. One who saw us as individuals who came as a package deal? One who was waiting for us at the end of the day?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I like them easy and I like to share them with you. End of story, Benito.”
Getting involved with any woman, much less one who might ultimately drive a wedge between him and Benito, is the last thing Dante needs, especially now, when his life is already in turmoil. The wealthy, influential family of a murder suspect he killed in the line of duty is portraying him as a trigger-happy vigilante, putting his career and reputation on the line.
But as soon as he sees Calista Burke—and witnesses Benito’s identical reaction to her—he knows the stakes have just gotten higher and a lifetime of never risking his heart is about to be put to the test.
Cole’s Gamble (Crime Tells 4)
Cole Maguire doesn’t have any trouble getting women into his bed—or kicking them out of it. He’s always shuffled through them as if they were cards in a deck. But now he’s on the run, trying to avoid Renata Reynolds and his grandmother’s prediction of a wedding in his future.
Renata has fantasized about Cole for months. She prides herself on being smart enough to stay away from him. He’s white, she’s black. Dating is tricky enough without risking additional complications. And besides, Cole’s a player whose name is spelled heartbreak as far as she’s concerned.
Little does she know when she discovers a murder victim during a competitive trail ride that Cole’s grandmother is about to meddle and call in a bet. He’s assigned the murder to solve. Renata’s given the story to write. And close proximity does the rest.
Cole gambles he can walk away from Renata unattached and unaffected. Renata gambles she can enjoy the fantasy without falling in love. And both of them soon discover, losing a bet can be so much better than winning.
Cade’s Dare (Crime Tells 5)
He’s wanted her for years, loved her for years, avoided her for years, but now Cade Benson is ready to claim Grace Montgomery. She’s his one, or more accurately, their one—if only Mace will commit.
A future that doesn’t include sharing Grace makes Cade break out in a cold sweat. Desperation makes him issue a challenge. Take her with me once, I dare you.
Mace has every intention of refusing, but one look at Grace after a night spent with Cade and there’s no way he can deny himself, not when he’s craved her sweet submission for years. He’ll take Cade’s dare, gambling he can survive the misery that’ll come afterward—when he walks away for his brother’s sake.
Healing Seduction (connected story)
For years Lucca and Quade have shared women and enjoyed games of sexual dominance. While she was married, Kiera was off-limits, even in their fantasies. Now that she’s single, guilt and loyalty keep them from acting on their desire.
At twenty-six, Kiera has been a widow for almost as long as she was a wife. Before pain and loss stripped her bare and changed her, she’d never craved the things Lucca and Quade want in the bedroom. Now she does. She knows they love her. But for them to have a future together, she needs to break through their emotional barriers.
Unknown to them, she’s got a plan. And if it works, Quade and Lucca won’t be able to resist her healing seduction.
Excerpt from Inked Magic
Fog turned the cemetery into shades of black and gray. It lay on those gathered around the grave, a wet, heavy shroud muting the sounds of grieving as the priest spoke his final words and mourners moved toward the immediate family.
Cathal didn’t cross to offer his condolences though his mother did, resplendent in designer black and tasteful jewelry. He remained in place even as his father and uncle departed without a word.
They glided through the fog like a pair of ravens, black coats shiny with moisture. Harbingers of death, he thought, knowing that scattered among the mourners were police as well as FBI and ATF agents.
He lingered, trying to recall the dead girl’s face, to dredge up personal memories of Caitlyn, something beyond the smiling photographs present in the funeral home. He failed. All that came to him were thoughts of his cousin, Brianna, and with it, guilt over how seldom their lives intersected.
In the span of a year Brianna had lost her mother and brother.
And now this.
Drugs and gang rape and the death of a friend.
Insanity and murder, if not by intention, then by end result.
He should have made more time for her. He should have . . .
With an acknowledgment of failure, he left the gravesite, returning to the long line of automobiles parked against the curb, transport back to everyday life.
Two heavily muscled men emerged from the gloom as his father and uncle neared identical dark-windowed Mercedes. The men opened back doors, then stood, waiting at attention like the soldiers they were.
Words passed between the brothers. Icy intensity rather than heated argument, accompanied by a glance in his direction before his uncle climbed into a car and was driven away.
A sense of foreboding settled around him but he didn’t slow his footsteps or refuse when his father indicated with a wave that he was to get into the back of the remaining Mercedes. He surrendered his cell phone, a precaution against being listened in on by the aut
horities, then got into the car.
The doors closed, walling off sound and the possibility of being overheard. His father’s eyes locked onto his. “The animals responsible for this can’t go unpunished.”
Despite knowing his father’s idea of justice involved a shot to the back of the head and an unmarked grave, he said, “I agree.”
“Good.”
The tension left his father. “Good,” he repeated. “A source passed on a name at the funeral. There’s an artist who can help us identify the guilty parties. But there’s a complication.”
The sense of foreboding deepened. “What complication?”
“She might be related to a cop. The guy who passed on the name didn’t know whether it was true or not. All he could say for sure was that she’s got a freaky way with victims.”
“So call in a favor. Have a case file opened. There’s enough about what happened to Brianna and Caitlyn to force an investigation. Let the police make arrangements with the artist. Let them handle it officially and prosecute the guilty parties.”
His father tilted his head toward the empty parking place in front of the Mercedes. “This is personal business. Something your uncle and I need to take care of ourselves. The sooner the better. If you were around more—and I’m not saying you should be, I understand your reasons and I respect your decision—then you’d know Denis isn’t thinking straight. First losing Margo then Brian. Now this.
“He’s hurting. And a man in that much pain is capable of striking out, damn the consequences. That’s why I’m asking you to run interference here, to minimize the collateral damage by approaching this woman. Pull the right strings to get her to visit Brianna and come up with pictures of the responsible parties.
