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Madison Mosby and the Moonmilk Wars

Page 41

by Jason Winn


  “Then go home and give them all a hug and a kiss. Get a good night’s sleep. You look like you haven’t had one of those lately. When the sun comes up, make your next move. And when you need us again, give me a call.”

  She thought of the nightmares about her kids being burned alive, but forced them out of her head and tried to clear her mind. She realized he wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know, but it was comforting to hear it from someone else, someone who had clearly experienced the same kind of insanity she was going though.

  “You’re right,” she said.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your car.”

  Chapter 81

  Nathan’s Grill smelled like hamburgers and French fries. Madison wasn’t hungry, and the smell reminded her of Sky Garden Family Buffet.

  Shelby had hemmed and hawed about getting together, but Madison successfully guilted her older sister to forget about work for the evening and come out for a drink.

  She caught her foot on the edge of the booth and fell more than sat down. Shelby’s eyes scanned her, and for a brief moment Madison felt like she was the one about to be interrogated.

  “I tripped,” Madison said, trying to break Shelby’s piercing stare.

  “Careful,” said Shelby. Her eyes remained serious, like she wasn’t really looking at Madison, but someone she barely knew. And in a sense, that was true.

  Madison was terrified of what Graves was going to find out. What if Shelby already knew about everything she’d done? In the past, Shelby had told her about taking years to gather evidence for cases. She wished she could look up on her phone if it was possible for FBI agents to investigate their own family members. There had to be a rule for that. Right? The paper-thin assumption calmed Madison a bit.

  Shelby didn’t look at all like the killer superagent who had burst through the door of Preens’ Floral, gun blazing. Now she looked like any other exhausted soccer mom, with a canvas baseball hat, her blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail and bags under her eyes.

  There were more sides to Shelby than Madison cared to consider right now. She wondered how fast Shelby could flip from soccer mom to action hero. Was it like a light switch or did she have to psych herself up, like an actor getting into character?

  A waitress appeared and asked for their drink orders. Shelby asked for a light beer and Madison told her to make it two, even though she despised beer. At least she wouldn’t allow herself to get sloshed. A real drink would calm her nerves though.

  Madison watched Graves take the booth behind Shelby. “Prime rib, babe,” he said to the waitress.

  “Are you sure, sir?” asked the waitress.

  “I’m feelin’ lucky there, beautiful.”

  “So, what’s up?” asked Shelby.

  “I saw Dad the other day,” said Madison.

  “How’s he doing? I need to go see him.”

  “Blue Petal was kicking his ass, but I think he’s doing a lot better now.”

  “Yeah, I got a news alert the other day that Flint was coming back to run the company. That should make Dad’s life a little easier.”

  You aren’t kidding, Madison thought.

  Madison considered that she should mention taking over the company, but she needed to get Contessa out of the way, before she could tell the family about the changes at Blue Petal. There was little chance her dad would break the news to the family.

  “Do you know when Mom gets back from Europe?” asked Madison. She hadn’t thought about Helen Cross for weeks now.

  “A few more weeks I think. She…” Shelby’s voice trailed off.

  “Shelby?”

  Oh, shit, he’s doing it, Madison thought.

  She sat quietly and waited, wondering how long this would take. The waitress returned with their beers, dropped two cocktail napkins on the sticky table and placed the frosted mugs on top.

  “Can I interest you in some appetizers?” asked the waitress.

  Madison looked up at her, noticed that the poor girl had probably been on her feet since the lunch wave, and responded, “I think we’re good for now.”

  The waitress furrowed her brow, seeing Shelby in her trance-like state, before moving on to her next table.

  Shelby’s lips moved slightly, as if she were trying to talk underwater. A glassy shimmer covered her eyes. Madison’s heart slammed in her chest and she felt a thumbnail digging into her palm.

  Come on, come on, come on.

  But what difference did it really make? It wasn’t like Shelby knew what was going on. At least that’s what Madison hoped. Considering that, she became acutely aware what a huge risk she was taking.

  A moment later Graves gave Madison a thumbs-up over Shelby’s shoulder. The muscles in Madison’s stomach loosened and she felt herself deflate, letting out a breath she’d been holding for what felt like an hour.

  “What was I saying?” asked Shelby. Her eyes refocused on Madison.

  “Mom. You think Mom’s going to be back in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry, work is killing me right now. You have no idea.”

  I have some idea, Madison thought.

  “Like what?” What was the harm in poking? Besides, it would be interesting to see what she told Madison versus what Graves found in her head.

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  At least Shelby wasn’t going to try to lie to her about some tax dodger or sex trafficking ring. Instead they talked about nothing in particular. Shelby rambled on about the twins’ love of Sponge Bob and new-found interest in some video game Madison had never heard of.

  An hour later, Shelby got a call from Jacob begging her to pick up a prescription for one of the kids.

  “Sorry, gotta run,” said Shelby as she threw down a twenty for her beer. “Let’s plan for something next week.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Provided I’m still alive, Madison thought.

  They hugged good-bye and as Shelby walked out, Madison noticed Graves was gone, leaving behind a hundred-dollar bill under his plate of a uneaten prime rib.

  ***

  Madison found Graves leaning against her car, cleaning his fingernails with a toothpick.

  “You’re in big trouble, kid,” he said.

  “What?” Madison felt her legs go weak.

  “The warehouse hit last night? That was her. From the looks of things it was your old friends the Russians. Only they weren’t just gangsters, they were special forces.”

  Madison felt the color drain from her face.

  “What? How?” She had been certain it was Contessa come to pick the bones of her operation. The party was going to be Madison’s way to get back at her. But now, Shelby. Fuck.

  “She’s looking for the Rose Widow.”

  “Back up, you said Russian special forces?”

  “You think foreign governments aren’t interested in our world? But, I wouldn’t worry too much about them. Apparently, your sister, Jamie Bond, killed them all with her super hit squad. So, not too much to worry about there, for now anyway. Next week, though, who knows.” He chuckled.

  Carl’s words came roaring back to her, his lecture on people being connected to governments and huge criminal cartels. Now she was getting a taste of that.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Fear formed a knot in the back of her throat. She felt like she was going to puke, but she fought the quiver in her stomach and stared off down the street. “Like I need another problem. What the fuck am I going to do?”

  Graves wiped his finger pickings on his shorts and said, “Well, boss lady, there’s the easy way to deal with your sister. Kill her.”

  Madison knew that was coming. “No. Can’t you just tell her to stop looking for the Rose Widow?”

  “Sure. But what about whoever told Shelby to find her? Unless she’s the chief of the agency, she’s got a boss. No way of knowing what will happen then. If someone wants to find the Rose Widow, they’ll just send someone else. She’s FBI. Right? They don’t just g
ive up, you know.”

  “I know. Which makes killing her even more insane.” She turned to look Graves right in the eyes. “And that’s final—we’re not killing her.”

  “Okay, okay.” Graves threw his hands up in surrender. “But, I’m guessing you realize that it’s only a matter of time before she starts finding your people. And someone will squeal.”

  “Well thank god on that front, all my couriers, except one are dead. So…lucky me.”

  “Oh,” said Graves. “She’s also going to send a hit squad to kill whoever the Rose Widow is. That seems like an important point.”

  Madison gasped. “Excuse me, what?”

  “Yeah, she’s got shoot-to-kill orders. They were hoping you—well the Rose Widow—was going to show up the other night and take her out. And these guys aren’t going to be fooled by a fake cell phone photo. They’re gonna want a body.”

  “Wait a minute, how would Shelby know about that place, unless someone told her? Did Contessa tell her?”

  “She didn’t seem to know who Contessa was, so I doubt it.”

  Madison still considered that Contessa was involved in some way. It was all too coincidental that Shelby started looking for the Rose Widow around the same time that Contessa showed up.

  “Since when the fuck does the FBI execute people?”

  “It looked like a separate government branch, but she didn’t know a lot of the details.”

  The last threads holding Madison up felt like they had just been snapped, and a cold sweat crawled down her back.

  “I’ve heard enough.”

  “You know it’s too bad I helped kill the White Union. You could really use those guys right now.”

  “One more word and I punch you in the dick.”

  Madison would deal with this shit later. She needed to get back to the house and get ready for Contessa’s party in two days, and part of that would involve finding out how much Wrench wanted to be with her.

  Chapter 82

  Madison stood in the driveway as Wrench pulled up in his big pickup truck. This was the moment she’d dreaded ever since they met. How would he treat her after he saw how she lived?

  He stopped and got out, eyes wide and turning around to take in the property. Madison held her breath. Her thumbnail bored into her sweaty palm, and her cheeks ached as she flashed a realistic-looking smile. She’d asked the Black Fangs to take the afternoon off, eliminating the initial shock of seeing an army of black bikers eyeballing him like lions ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “This is your place?”

  “Yeah. It’s been in the family for a couple generations.”

  “What does your family do?”

  “Ever hear of a company called Blue Petal?”

  “No. Is that flowers, or something?”

  “No. It’s food related.”

  “Must sell a lot of food.”

  “Yeah. My grandmother started it a long time ago.”

  “Wait a minute. Mosby. Are you related to that woman that disappeared like ten years ago?”

  That woman. If it had been anyone else, Madison would have felt a pang of irritation, but this time she didn’t. “Yeah, that was my grandmother, Nancy.”

  “Oh, I remember now. Man, that was crazy.” He scratched his chin. “Wow, you’re her granddaughter. I get it now.”

  He got it now. So Madison was an idle rich kid who just sent her time roaming a mansion and driving around in a hundred-thousand-dollar car, living the life. Wrench was in for another shock.

  “Let me show you around.” She took his hand and led him around to the backyard.

  ***

  After about an hour of touring the grounds and the property, Madison could see that Wrench was relaxed and getting comfortable with the idea of being her steady boyfriend. That was good, because time was short and she needed to see how “committed” he was to the idea of knowing more about her.

  They stood next to the garage. Madison’s pulse was pounding. She didn’t want to do what had to come next. She put his stay or flee probability at fifty/fifty. But, she didn’t have any other choice. Contessa’s party was in two days and Wrench’s cooperation was crucial.

  “I need to ask you a favor, and if you say no, I’ll understand.”

  “Name it.”

  Careful what you agree to, baby, she thought.

  “Come here.” She led him into the garage.

  “Nice minivan,” Wrench said sarcastically. “This your old car?”

  “Not quite.” Madison walked over to the boxes Sarah had procured from her father and opened one.

  Wrench gasped. “Please tell me that isn’t real,” said Wrench.

  “Oh, it’s real, all right,” replied Madison.

  “What the hell, Madison?” Wrench backed away from the wooden box.

  At her feet lay a long box made of rough wood. Painted on the sides were the words Browning M2, along with a jumble of smaller numbers and letters.

  “I want you to build me a better mousetrap.” She nodded toward the minivan.

  “Oh, no. This is some homegrown terrorist shit. I’m outta here.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Madison grabbed him by the sleeve. “Just listen to me.”

  He stopped and turned to look her in the eyes.

  “I’m not going to shoot up a bunch of cops or politicians. Nothing like that.” She’d thought about telling him some lie, like it was for some YouTube gun channel, but he would eventually figure that out, and then he’d leave. She really liked him. From what she could tell, he was a good man, but to be in a relationship with him was going to require a bit of honesty, the dangerous kind. “I’m into some shit that is a little dangerous.”

  “Drugs.” He grimaced in disapproval. “Jesus, Madison.”

  “No. No, it’s not drugs.” This wasn’t going well. Wrench pulled away, but Madison tightened her grip on his shirt sleeve. She’d had the speech planned out in her head and it went perfectly. I’m a magical drug dealer. Cool, he was supposed to say, let’s be together forever.

  But now, staring at Wrench, the look of mild betrayal on his face told her he wasn’t buying this. So she decided to try the backup tactic.

  “Did you see that bank robbery video on YouTube, where the guy gets away?”

  “Yeah, but that’s bullshit.”

  The Sand Metal jacket lay on the workbench, carefully spread out so as not to touch any of the metal tools. “No, it’s not.” With that, Madison picked up a screwdriver and drove it into the breast of the jacket. Sparks flew in all directions as if she was taking a blowtorch to it. The air filled with the smell of smoke. She turned to Wrench with his hand shading his eyes and held up the plastic handle of the screwdriver. The shaft smoldered where the Phillip’s head used to be.

  “And that’s just one of my tricks.”

  Wrench didn’t say anything. He just stood there, mouth agape.

  Madison kept talking. “I sell things to sorcerers, like the one in that video, so here’s the deal.” Her voice was stern. “I need you to hide those machine guns in that minivan so I can go kill a rival that almost killed me the other day. And before you go and ask ‘why don’t I just call the cops to take care of it,’ I’ll tell you it was the cops she used to try and kill me. Now, are you in or are you out? You wanna be with me, this is the price. And if you’re out, I’ve got a guy who will wipe your brain free of me like some Men in Black shit. You’ll forget you ever knew me.”

  Wrench’s face was a mask of fear and confusion. His thick arm had gone slack. Madison didn’t give him a chance to finish. “But, I really like you. And I think we have something here. So what’s it going to be—me and the machine gun minivan, here, or the brain wipe?”

  “You can’t do that? Can you?”

  Madison held up the screwdriver again. “It would blow your mind, what I can do, buddy.”

  Wrench looked over Madison’s shoulder at t
he two boxes in the corner and back to Madison.

  There was a long pause as he was thinking it over, before he finally smiled and asked, “You got one of those jackets in my size?”

  Madison dropped the screwdriver and threw her arms around him. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. He kissed her back. A sensation of joy and relief exploded in her chest. She had another ally and a real boyfriend. It was the first good thing that had happened to her in what felt like forever. Right then and there, she resolved to slow her life down after she took care of Contessa—that is, if she could take care of Contessa. But, right now Contessa didn’t exist. It was just her, Wrench, a battered minivan, and the smell of smoke and machine gun oil.

  As he pulled away, he asked, “Are you as crazy as I think you are?”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied with a huge smile in her face. “But, I’m more fun than you can imagine.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  She stepped back from him, took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay, now that we got that out of the way, we need to get to work. My friends, Jane and Sarah, can get you anything you need. I was thinking something like attaching these to the doors and making the doors so they can fold down like wings with the guns attached.”

  “That could work, I guess. We might have to shorten the barrels of those things though.”

  “Fine. Good. We’ve got two days.”

  “I guess I’d better get to it then.”

  Madison stole one more kiss before leaving Wrench to build her a new mousetrap.

  Chapter 83

  On the day of Contessa’s party, Madison entered through the garage side door to find Wrench slamming down the hood of a vehicle, covered in a paint-stained drop cloth. Sean sat at a workbench, hunched over a laptop, tapping away at icons on a cell phone.

  “What are you doing here?” Madison asked Sean.

  He didn’t look up from his screen. “Adding a few things to save your ass, if need be. Jane gave me the rundown.”

  “I see,” said Madison. “We all set?”

  Wrench spun to look over at Sean. “What’s the word, man?”

 

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