Home Again: Starting Over

by Becki Willis

  “Knock, knock.”

  She looked up from her task of unloading a box and smiled at her best friend. “Hey, Gen. I didn’t expect to see you here again today.”

  “I thought you and Derron might be able to use some help. Where is he, by the way? He left the café early.”

  “When he saw the playback tape and realized how sallow that yellow shirt made him appear on television, he took the afternoon off to go shopping,” Madison informed her. “Macy’s is having a sale. We won’t see him for the rest of the evening.”

  “That man is a hoot,” Genny said affectionately.

  “And the best darn secretary-slash-receptionist I’ll ever hope to have, so I’m willing to indulge him,” her friend admitted. “So it’s just me and the boxes.”

  “And me. Don’t forget me.”

  “As always, you are a lifesaver, my friend. You can start with that box. Most of that will go in Derron’s desk.”

  “I’m sure he’ll rearrange to suit his own needs, but I can at least unload it.”

  “I’m trying to get my files in order. Not that I have all that many, but I can always dream big.” Madison fanned her arm Vanna White style to indicate the elaborate built-in filing cabinets.

  “Too bad Kiki didn’t organize those, as well.”

  “I’m not sure I want her to see how pathetically slim my case files are,” Madison admitted. “And how few there are.”

  “We can talk freely in here, right?” Genny questioned, glancing around for cameras.

  Madison nodded vigorously. “That is one thing I refused to back down on. Amanda can film and record just about everything else that is said and done in the house, but my office is officially off limits. I’ll use my handy little bug detector every day if I have to, but this room is mic-free. I want my clients to be free to discuss their cases in confidence, without fear of having it broadcast to the entire nation.”

  Genny flashed her dimples when she grinned. “We’re going to miss your business meetings at the back booth.”

  “No disrespect, but I won’t,” Madison said emphatically.

  Genny dusted her hands and announced, “I’m through with this box. You want me to start on this next one? It has your binoculars and spy gadgets in it. Where do you want them?”

  “How about those cabinets over there?”

  Genny fished the first item from her box and examined it with curiosity. “What the heck is this thing?”

  “Surveillance equipment,” Madison announced proudly. “Compliments of Murray Archer.”

  Genny eyed it with suspicion. “Go figure.”

  Madison merely chuckled. “Just pile it up in that cabinet. I’ll sort through it later. When we get the boxes unloaded, I want you to help me look over my files on Gloria Jeffers. I feel like I’m missing something. Some link that ties everything all together with the fires.”

  Genny’s dimples flashed. “Aw, I’ll get to play like a real PI, with an office and everything! And spy gadgets, to boot!”

  Madison wagged her finger and spoke as if to a six-year-old.

  “Okay, but no playtime until you’re done with your work.”

  “Yes, mother dear.”

  As Genny tackled another box, she asked, “So what was all that at lunch, between Cutter’s grandfather and your grandmother?”

  “Good question. She’s not saying a word, but unless I’m sadly mistaken, I do believe Sticker Pierce is the mystery man from my grandmother’s past.”

  “What mystery man?”

  “I know, right? See how well she’s kept him hidden? But she recently dropped a little bombshell that Grandpa Joe was not her first love. Her first love was a man younger, and shorter, than she was.”

  “Hmm. Sticker is a bit shorter than I expected. Of course, it’s hard to know how tall he would be if his legs weren’t bowed so much.”

  “He’s still a handsome man.”

  “I know. It’s like looking at an age progression of Cutter, and what he’ll look like in another forty or so years.”

  “Which is how we came across the subject in the first place. I was supposed to tell you not to let the age difference between you and Cutter stand in the way of your happiness. Granny says you’ll live to regret it. She did.”

  “But she and Grandpa Joe were so happy together!”

  “They were. She says she loved him with her heart and soul and never once regretted her life with him. But I think a part of her always wondered what might have been, had she chosen her first love.”

  Genny paused in her task of filling a bookshelf with Madison’s collections. “He broke her heart, huh? Cutter says he’s never been known to stick around for long. Apparently he’s been married several times.”

  “No, it was the other way around. Granny broke his heart and he left town.” She did some quick calculations in her head. “Of course, I’m guessing he bounced back pretty quickly. There couldn’t have been too much time between him leaving town and Mary Alice’s arrival into the world.”

  “Or maybe he never really recovered, at all. Maybe he’s loved her all these years. Maybe that’s why he could never settle down with another woman.” Genny swept her arms across her heart, finishing on a dramatic note. “Maybe she was his one true love and his heart still belongs to his Belle.”

  “Or maybe you are an incurable romantic. And maybe, just maybe,” Madison said, wagging her finger in her direction, “you should take Granny’s advice. What if Cutter is your one true love and you let a little thing like numbers stand in your way of happiness?”

  “What is it with everyone’s preoccupation about me and Cutter? Now even his family thinks we’re an item! We are just friends.”

  “Humph. Friends don’t look at each other the way you and Cutter look at one another.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Genny said breezily, but her face colored. “So where did you want this box?”

  “Smooth transition,” Madison noted dryly, “but I’ll let it slide this time. You’re cheap labor.”

  “Wine,” Genny reminded her. “I work for wine.”

  Two hours, half a pizza, and an empty bottle of wine later, they were still studying the papers strewn across Madison’s desk.

  “I think you’re stalling,” Genesis accused. “Things are no clearer now than they were an hour ago. You just like the look of having those files laid on your desk, looking all official and important-like.”

  Madison nibbled a slice of pizza. “You might have a point,” she conceded. “But I keep thinking if I stare at it long enough, something will pop out at me.”

  “So let’s look at what we have.”

  Madison grabbed yet another sheet of paper and started over with new notes. She indicated each party by their initials.

  “We know there was a connection between the fire suppression equipment in use at three of the five fires. A+ Fire Systems installed and serviced the exhaust system at Montelongo’s. They partnered with Allied Industries to design the system used on Ray Sam’s motor home and Carson Elliot’s new home. All three were faulty.”

  “And all three tie into the Libenthal brothers,” Genny agreed. She wiggled her finger like a pen, prompting the correct notations on paper.

  “We know that Slim, at least, is on the take and willing to sway an investigation whichever way pays the most money. But that’s only three of the five. What about the other two?”

  Arrows and lines circled the paper, leaving those two fires noticeably unmarked.

  “Well,” Genny offered, “both Jerry Don Peavey and William Shanks had insurance with Omega, parent company of Magnus. Put a squiggly line between them. And Magnus ties back to Slim and Tiny, so add another squiggly there. Plus, Montelongo’s had insurance through Magnus.” She air-painted another squiggle with her finger. She peered over her wineglass to the paper. “Is it looking any better?”

  “Full of lines and arrows and squiggles, but no complete circles. No one single thing that ties all of th
ese together.”

  “There is one thing,” Genny pointed out. “Lone Star Law. Maybe Gloria discovered her boss was crooked.”

  Madison shook her head. “I tried that scenario, too, but it didn’t make sense. What would he have to gain? He lost half the cases.”

  “So we’re back to equipment failure.”

  “But what equipment could there be to prevent Jerry Don Peavey’s pasture fire?”

  “So we’re back to insurance fraud.”

  “They didn’t all have the same carrier.”

  “So we’re back to square one.”

  Madison blew out a weary sigh. “Bingo.” She drew a big square onto the paper and stabbed it with her pen.

  “Granny mentioned someone else. What was the story on him?”

  “Newly somebody or another. He had a repair service where the taxidermy store is.”

  “You mean Cash Montgomery’s store? Cutter’s brother?”

  “Yes. Apparently this Newly fellow didn’t have insurance and couldn’t afford to rebuild.”

  Genny nibbled her bottom lip before admitting, “I overheard Cutter and Brash talking the other day. Did you know they suspect that last week’s fire out at Bob Peterson’s might have been intentionally set?”

  “Really?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Do you know if he had insurance?”

  “Yes, but not enough. He lost his tractor, his barn, his winter hay, and several acres of grazing pasture. Cutter overheard him saying he may have to sell out.”

  “So it’s doubtful that he set the fire himself,” Madison reasoned.

  “They were trying to think of who else could benefit from the fire.”

  “You mean like the insurance company or something?”

  Genny shrugged. “I guess.”

  “So maybe this has been an insurance scam all along. And maybe Miss Gloria got lucky and uncovered a real conspiracy this time.”

  “You know, when we were at her house, we were looking for evidence that she was a drinker. We really didn’t look for any notes she might have left lying around.”

  Madison nodded thoughtfully. “So maybe we should go back.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  They let themselves into the house and turned on the lights.

  “You look here in the living room, I’ll look in the bedroom,” Madison suggested. “Look for notes she made, ideas she scribbled down.”

  “You can take the bathroom, too,” Genny offered sweetly.

  “Gee, thanks. Although it’s doubtful she took many notes while sitting on the throne.”

  “I don’t know about that. Judging from all those bottles under the table, I’d say she spent more than her fair share of time in that room. You never know where inspiration may have struck.”

  Madison gave her friend a playful shove. “Just start looking. The sooner we get this over with, the better. There’s something about searching through a dead woman’s house after dark that gives me the willies.”

  “Especially when that dead woman may have been killed for the very information we’re searching for.”

  “Did you have to bring that up?” Madison grumbled, shuffling her way to the back bedroom. “I’m trying to forget that very fact.”

  After searching their respective rooms, they met back in the dining area.

  “I found an old Christmas gift list and three reading lists, but no notes on a potential arsonist,” Genny reported.

  “Same here. I found her so-called ‘research’ into the meat conspiracy theory, a to-do list dated a few years ago, and experimental recipes for herbal remedies, but nothing that relates to the fires.”

  Genny wandered into the kitchen. “Do you think we had it wrong? Maybe she didn’t suspect a scam, after all.”

  “What are you doing, making all that noise in there?”

  “Getting a glass of water. I’m thirsty.”

  “I don’t think you should be doing that.”

  “Why not?” Genny pulled a glass from a cabinet and filled it with tap water. “I’ll clean up after myself.”

  Madison rolled her eyes as she joined her friend. “Next thing I know, you’ll be brewing a cup of coffee.”

  “No, she only drank decaf, remember? But this tea looks rather interesting.” Genny took the clear glass canister from the counter and held it up for closer inspection. “It has all kinds of leaves and herbs and spices in it. I wonder if Miss Gloria mixed it herself.” She took the lid off and took a whiff. “Smells good.”

  “Put that back!” Madison chided. “You can’t seriously be considering drinking her tea. The poor woman’s dead, for heaven’s sake!”

  Genny’s dimples appeared. “So my guess is she’ll never say a word.”

  “Genesis!”

  “Okay, okay, don’t have a cow. I’m putting it back.” Sulking, her friend slid the canister back in place. She washed and dried her water glass and returned it to the cabinet while Madison supervised with a scowl upon her face.

  “Satisfied?” Genny asked with a too-sweet smile.

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “So now what?”

  “We keep looking. We need to see if we find anything here in the dining area and kitchen.”

  “I saw a bunch of papers stuffed over there in that cabinet. I’ll start there.”

  Once again, they came up empty handed. “Carson was right. The woman loved to read. I found more reading lists. Titles of books and authors she wanted to read. Favorite passages from some of them, notated pages to read or re-read. She was obsessed.”

  Madison agreed with her friend’s assessment. “I agree.”

  “This is a tiny house, and I’ve counted three bookcases already, all crammed with—” Genny stopped mid-sentence and cocked her head. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “That noise. I heard something.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she pointed toward the window. “I think it came from outside.”

  Madison moved closer to the wall, keeping out of the line of sight from the window. She inched her way to the curtain and pulled one corner back, peering into the darkness.

  “Too dark to see anything,” she reported in a low tone.

  Or had that shadow just moved? She studied the night, trying to distinguish one black image from another.

  While Madison stood vigil at the window, Genny moved quickly about the room, turning out the lights. She groped her way back to join Madison at the window.

  “I hear something else. What is that?” she whispered.

  “It sounds like something popping. And what is that smell?”

  “It smells like fingernail polish.”

  They both sniffed the air. “Not fingernail polish,” Madison disagreed. “It’s more like—”

  Her friend finished her sentence for her. “Gasoline!”

  Madison clutched Genny’s arm in a frantic gesture. “That’s the popping noise. Genny, the house is on fire!”

  “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  They tried the kitchen door.

  “Jammed! I can’t open it!”

  “Neither can I. Let’s try the front door.”

  Already flames crawled up the side of the house, glowing eerily through the window they had vacated moments before. They raced past the window, to the living room.

  They tugged and pulled, but the door refused to budge. “Genny,” Madison said, fighting back hysteria. Her voice was low and paced. “There’s a screw through the door. Someone screwed the door shut.”

  “Call 911,” Genny yelled, attempting to kick the door down. She succeeded only in jamming her foot and exhausting herself. The door remained steadfast, even with Madison’s combined force.

  “Try the windows.”

  “Screwed shut!”

  “Break the window.”

  “Panes are too small to crawl through.”

  “The bedroom.”

  Together, they ran through the old frame house. Smoke curled
up from the floorboards. Flames flickered from the eaves. Constructed completely of old, dried lumber, it would not take much for the house to ignite, even without the gasoline.

  “It’s getting harder to breathe,” Madison gasped. “And the windows back here are painted shut!”

  “Can you hear sirens?”

  “Not yet. Where are you going?”

  “Wet towels. We need wet towels.”

  “We go together.”

  Inside the bathroom, Genny jerked the faucets on full blast as Maddy threw every towel she could find into the old claw-foot tub. The bathroom air was relatively clear of smoke. Genny slammed the door shut and stuffed the narrow space beneath it with wet towels, hoping to buy them more time.

  The rest of the house quickly filled with thick, choking curls of smoke.

  “What’s taking so long?” Madison cried. “The fire department should be here by now!”

  “They’ll be here,” Genny insisted with a confidence she did not feel. “Cutter will come.”

  The air inside the bathroom thickened. Around them the old house popped and sizzled. A crash in the kitchen caused them both to jump.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Madison said.

  Genny nodded. “Damned if I’m dying in this same bathroom as Miss Gloria.”

  Madison peered at the window above the tub. “That window is awfully small.”

  “All that matters is that my hips fit through. Just in case, you go first. Here, I’ll boost you up.”

  They climbed into the tub, oblivious to the cold water that swirled to their knees. Genny grabbed soaking towels and wrapped one around each of their necks. With every few breaths, they sunk their noses into the refreshing wetness.

  They made a comical sight, two women inside a bathtub, trying frantically to crawl out a tiny portal filled with glass. Genny made a stirrup with her hands and dropped Madison the first two times she tried to hoist her up. The third time was a charm, but Madison had trouble with the window’s latch. By the time she worked the lock free and the glass open, the fire was feeding on the added oxygen of an open window. Another crash came from the living room as part of the ceiling caved in.

  Madison made it out the window and reached back to drag Genesis to freedom.