Tangled Up in You (13 page)

Alice thought he was going to.

They all thought that. Meg laughed without humor. Ask them. Ask Anna Van Damme, Joan Campbell, Katherine Howard, and Jewel Finley. They all thought he was going to leave my mother for them, but he never did. He never left her and he wouldnt have left her for the waitress either.

Alice Jones. Maddie had almost felt sorry for Meg, rattling off the names of her fathers lovers.

Yes.

Jewel Finley? Wasnt she friends with your mother?

Yeah, Meg scoffed. Some friend.

Did something happen that day out of the ordinary?

I dont think so.

Maddie put her forearms on her knees, leaned forward, and looked into Megs eyes. Usually when you see an otherwise sane woman kill her husband and then herself, there is something that has added stress to the relationship. Usually its the belief that the person feeling the most stress feels powerless, like shes losing everything and therefore she has nothing else to lose. If it wasnt your fathers infidelity, then it had to be something else.

Maybe she just planned to frighten them with the gun. Maybe she wanted to scare them and things got carried away.

That was usually the excuse, but rarely the case. Is that what you believe?

Yes. Maybe she found them naked together.

They were both clothed. Alice was behind the bar and your father was in front of it. They were at least ten feet apart.

Oh. She bit her thumbnail. I still think she went there to scare Dad and things got out of control.

You think that, but you dont know.

Meg dropped her hand and stood. My mother loved my father. I just dont think she went there with the intention of killing anyone. She put her purse over her shoulder. Ive got to get home.

Maddie stood. Well, thanks for your help, she said and walked Meg to the door. I appreciate it.

If I can clear anything up, give me a call.

I will. After Meg left, Maddie moved into the living room and turned off the tape. She felt sorry for Meg. She truly did. Meg was a victim of the past just like she was, but Meg was older than both Mick and Maddie and recalled more of that horrible night. Meg also recalled more than she was willing to talk about too. More than she wanted Maddie to know, but that was okayfor now. Maddie had written the first chapter of the book but had stopped to work on the timeline. When she got the sequence of

Meow.

Maddie leaned her head back. For the love of God. She moved to the door and look down at the kitten on the other side. Go away.

Meow.

She pulled the cord to her vertical blinds and turned them so that she could no longer see the annoying cat. She moved into the kitchen and made a low-carb dinner. She ate in front of the television with the sound turned way up. After dinner, she took a leisurely bath and scrubbed her skin with a vanilla body scrub. A white jar of Marshmallow Fluff body butter sat on the counter next to a towel. Shed received it in the mail at her house in Boise yesterday and had tossed it into her purse.

Lord, had it only been yesterday that shed met with Trina, had a bridesmaid fitting, and had sex with Mick? She unplugged the bathtub drain and stood. Shed been a busy girl.

Maddie dried herself, then rubbed the creamy lotion into her skin. She pulled on her striped pajama pants and pink T-shirt, then moved to the living room and picked up the tape recorder from the coffee table where it still sat. A cell phone commercial blared from the televison and she hit the off button on the remote control. She wanted to replay Megs recollections of the evening her mother had killed two people and then herself.

Meow.

Damn it! She pulled the cord to the blinds and there, sitting like a white snowball in the darkening shadows of evening, sat her tormenter. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the kitten through the glass. You have gotten on my last nerve.

Meow.

How such a racket could come from such a tiny mouth was beyond Maddie. Go away! As if it understood, the kitten stood, walked around in a circle, then sat in the same exact spot.

Meow.

Ive had it. Maddie went to the laundry room, shoved her arms into a jean jacket, then stomped across the floor to the French doors. She threw them open and scooped up the kitten. The kitten was so small its entire torso fit in one hand. You probably have fleas or ringworm, she said.

Meow.

She held the kitten out at arms length. The last thing I need is a big-headed inbred cat.

Meow.

Shh. Im going to find you a good home. The dang kitten started to purr like they were going to be friends or something. As quietly as possible, she moved down the steps and tiptoed across the cold grass to the Allegrezzas yard. A light in the kitchen burned and through the sliding glass door, she watched Louie make a sandwich. Youre going to love these people, she whispered.

Meow.

Really. They have a kid, and kids love kittens. Act cute and youre in. She set it on the deck, then ran like hell back to her house. As if she were escaping a demon, she closed the door, locked it, and shut the blinds. She sat on the couch and leaned her head back. Quiet. Thank God. She closed her eyes and told herself shed just performed a very good deed. She could have chased it off by throwing something at it. Little Pete Allegrezza was a nice kid. He probably wanted a cat and would give it a good home. It obviously hadnt eaten in a while and Louie would no doubt hear it and feed it a hunk of lunch meat. Maddie was practically a friggin saint.

Meow.

Are you shitting me? She sat up and opened her eyes.

Meow.

Fine. I tried to be nice. She stormed into her bedroom and shoved her feet into a pair of black flip-flops. Stupid cat. She returned to the living room, threw open the back door, and scooped up the kitten. She held it up in front of her face and glared into its spooky eyes. Youre too stupid to know I found you a good home.

Meow.

This was karma. Bad karma. Definitely a payback for something shed done. She grabbed her purse with her free hand and flipped on the outside lights by the laundry room door. Once she was outside, the transponder in her purse unlocked the cars door. Dont you even think about scratching this leather, she said as she set the cat on the passenger seat. It was Sunday night and the animal shelter was closed. So dropping off the cat was not an option. If she drove to the other side of the lake and dumped it on a doorstep over there, the damn thing would not be able to find its way back.

She hit the start button on the gearshift. She wasnt totally heartless. She wouldnt dump it somewhere with a big pit bull chained in the yard. She didnt want that kind of karma.

She put the car into reverse and glanced over at the kitten sitting on her expensive leather seat and staring straight ahead. Hasta la vista , baby.

Meow.

M ick drove his Dodge into the parking lot of the D-Lite Grocery Store and parked in a slot a few rows from the front doors. Pulling in, hed seen the black Mercedes parked beneath one of the lots bright lights. Although hed never personally seen the car, everyone in town knew Madeline Dupree drove a black Mercedes like Batman. Within the slightly tinted windows, Mick could just see the outline of her head and face. He walked to the car and knocked on the drivers-side window. Without a sound, the glass lowered inch by inch. The parking lot light shone into the window and suddenly he was staring into the dark brown eyes of the woman whod wrung him out the night before.

Nice car, he said.

Thanks.

Meow.

He looked down past her face to a white ball of fur in her lap. Why, Maddie, you have a pussycat on your

Dont say it.

He laughed. When did you get a cat?

Its not mine. I hate cats.

Then whys it on yourlap?

It wouldnt go away. She turned and looked ahead; her hands gripped the steering wheel. I tried to find it a home across the lake. I even had a house all picked out. A nice one with yellow shutters.

What happened?

She shook her head. I dont know. I was sneaking up to the porch, ready to toss the cat up there and run, but the damn thing purred and rubbed its head on my chin. She looked up at him as a frown settled between her brows. And here I am, thinking about all the cat food commercials on TV and wondering if I should buy Whiskas or Fancy Feast.

He chuckled. Whats its name?

She closed her eyes and whispered, Snowball.

His chuckle turned to laugher, and she opened her eyes and glared at him. What?

Snowball?

Its white.

Meow.

Its so girly.

This from a guy who named his poodle Princess.

His laugher died. How do you know about Princess?

Maddie opened her car door and he stepped back. Your sister told me. She rolled up the window, grabbed the kitten with her free hand, and got out of the car. And before you get all bossy, your sister showed up on my porch this afternoon and wanted to talk to me about your parents.

What did she say?

A lot. She locked the door and shut it. Mostly, though, I think she wanted me to think that growing up you were all happy as clams until Alice Jones moved to town.

Do you believe her?

Of course not. She shoved the kitten inside her jean jacket and hung a big purse over one shoulder. The same big purse that carried her Taser. Especially when she let it slip that your mother set a pile of your fathers clothes on fire.

Yeah. I remember that. It was certainly no secret. I remember the grass in the front yard didnt grow back for a long time. Hed probably been five at the time. A year before his mother had completely lost it.

And in case youve heard the rumor, no, there is not going to be a movie starring Colin Farrell and Angelina Jolie.

Hed heard the rumor and was relieved to hear it wasnt true. Are you wearing your pajamas?

The kitten poked its head out of her jacket as Maddie looked down. I dont think anyone will notice.

I noticed.

Yeah, but I was wearing pajama pants like this last night. She looked up and a sexy little smile teased the corners of her lips. For a little while anyway.

And she didnt think they were going to have sex again. Right. Is that you? he asked.

Is what me?

I smell Rice Krispies treats. He took a step toward her and dipped his head. Of course its you.

Thats my Marshmallow Fluff body butter.

Body butter? Oh, God. Did she really think they wouldnt end up in bed together again? Ive thought about you all day. He put his hand on the side of her throat and pressed his fore head to hers. Naked. Beneath his thumb, her pulse pounded through her veins almost as hard as his beat through his body.

Im back on the wagon.

Youre back to being sort of, kind of, celibate?

Yes.

I can change your mind. He was trying to convince a woman to be with him, something he didnt normally do. Either they wanted to or they didnt.

Not this time, she said, although she didnt sound particularly convinced.

But when it came to Maddie, nothing was normal. You love the way I kiss and touch your body. Remember?

I, ahh she stammered.

Normally he didnt think and obsess about a woman all day. He didnt wonder what she was doing. If she was working or finding dead mice or how he was going to get her naked again. Youre already dressed for bed. He brushed his mouth across hers and her lips parted on a little gasp. Normally he didnt waste his time because there were others he didnt have to try and convince. You know you want to.

Meow.

She took a step back and his hand dropped to his side. I have to buy cat food.

Mick lowered his gaze to the white furry head poking out of Maddies jean jacket. That cat was pure evil.

Good girl, Snowball, she said and patted her kittens head. She looked up at him, then turned toward the front of the store. Watch out for him. Hes a very bad man.

Mick was the only other person who knew about Snowball. She hadnt told any of her friends for fear theyd all die of shock. Maddie Jonescat owner? Impossible. Shed spent most of her life hating cats, but here she stood, pink collar in hand and staring down at a white ball of fur curled up in her office chair.

She scooped the kitten up in both hands and brought it face level. This is my chair, she said. I made you a bed. She carried the kitten to the laundry room and set her on a folded towel inside an Amazon box. Rule number one: Im the boss. Number two: you cant get on my furniture and get it all hairy. She knelt down and placed the collar around Snowballs neck.

Meow.

Maddie scowled.

Meow.

Fine. You look cute. She stood and pointed a finger in the kittens direction. Rule number three: I let you in and gave you some food. Thats where it ends. I dont like cats. She turned on her heels and walked out of the laundry room. The tinkling of a bell followed her into the kitchen and she looked down at her feet. She sighed and pulled a local telephone book out of a drawer. She turned to the yellow pages, reached for her cell phone, and punched in the seven numbers.

Morts, a man answered, but it wasnt Mick.

Is Mick available?

He usually doesnt show up until eight.

Could you give him a message for me?

Let me grab a pen. There was a pause and then, Okay.

Mick, thanks for the pink collar. Snowball.

Did you say Snowball?

Yeah. Sign it Snowball.

Got it.

Thanks. Maddie disconnected and closed the phone book. At ten minutes after eight while Maddie glanced through a crime magazine, her phone rang.

Hello.

Your cat called me.

Just the sound of Micks voice made her smile, which was a very bad sign. What did she want?

To thank me for her collar.

Maddie glanced at Snowball lying in the red chair, licking her leg and in flagrant disregard of rule number two. She has good manners.

What are you doing tonight?

Teaching Snowball which fork to use.

He chuckled. When is she going to bed?

She flipped a page in the magazine and her gaze scanned an article about a man whod killed three of his trophy wives. Why?

I want to see you.

She wanted to see him too. Bad. And that was the problem. She didnt want to feel all happy inside just at the sound of his voice on her telephone. She didnt want to see him in a parking lot and remember the touch of his hands and mouth. The more she saw him, thought about him, wanted him, the more their lives became entangled. You know I cant, she said and flipped a few more pages.

Meet me at Hennessys and please bring your camera.

Her hand stilled. Are you offering to let me take photos inside your bar?

Yes.

She didnt usually take the photos for her books, but there wouldnt be a problem if she did.

I want to see you.

Are you bribing me?

There was a pause on the line and then he asked, Is that a problem?

Was it? Only if you think Ill have sex with you for a few photos.

Honey, he said through what sounded like a sigh of exasperation, I wish getting you naked was that easy, but no.

Just because she went to Hennessys and took some photographs didnt mean anyone was going to end up naked. Shed lived without sex for four years. Clearly she did have some self-control.

Why dont you come here around midnight? The place will be cleared out and you can take as many pictures as you want.

If she went, shed be using the undeniable attraction between them to get what she wanted. Just as he was using her desire to photograph the inside of the bar to get what he wanted. She wondered if her conscience should rise up and decline the tempting offer, but as had happened from time to time in her life when it came to her work and her scruples, her conscience was silent.

Ill be there. After she hung up the phone, she took a deep breath and held it in. Entering that bar would not be the same as every other crime scene shed walked and explored and stood within. This was personal.

She let out her pent-up breath. Shed viewed the crime scene photos and read the reports. Twenty-nine years after the fact would not be a problem. Shed sat across a mesh barrier from killers who told her exactly what theyd do to her body if they ever got the chance. Compared to that nightmare, walking into Hennessys was going to be a piece of cake. No sweat.

H ennessys was painted a nondescript gray and was bigger than it looked from the outside. Inside it had two pool tables and a dance floor on either side of the long bar. In the middle, three steps led down to the sunken floor surrounded by a white railing and fitted with ten round tables. Hennessys had never had the unruly-girls-gone-bad reputation of Morts. It was more laid-back and was known for good drinks and music. And for a time, murder. Hennessys had finally lived down the latteruntil a certain true crime writer had blown into town.

Mick stood behind the bar and poured South Gin into a cocktail shaker. He glanced up at Maddie, at the light shining in her hair, picking out reddish brown strands in her ponytail. He returned his gaze to the tall clear bottle in his hand. My great-grandfather built this bar in 1925.

Maddie set her camera on the bar and glanced about her. During Prohibition?

Yeah. He pointed to the sunken middle. That part was a restaurant dining room, he said. He made and sold grain alcohol out of the back.

Maddie looked at him through those big brown eyes that turned all warm and sexy when he kissed her neck. At the moment her eyes were a little wide, like she was seeing ghosts. Was he ever caught? she asked but looked about once again, her mind clearly not on his masterful attempt at conversation. When hed opened the back door and seen her standing there, shed looked so tense, hed had to check his first impulse to push her against the wall and kiss the breath out of her.

Nah. Mick shook his head. They both knew she was there to take photographs, and Mick was surprised at how uptight she was about being inside the bar. He thought shed be happy. He was giving her what she wanted, but she didnt look happy. She looked ready to break. The town was too small and unimportant in those days, and Great-Grandfather was too well liked by everyone. When Prohibition ended, he gutted most of the place and turned it into a bar. Except for maintenance and a few necessary renovations, its been like this since. He added a splash of vermouth, then put the lid on the cocktail shaker. My grandfather turned the area over there into a dance floor and my father brought in the pool tables. He shook the premium gin and vermouth with one hand and reached below the bar with the other. Ive decided to leave it as is. He set first one and then another frosted martini glass on the bar. He added a few olives on toothpicks, and as he poured, his gaze lowered from the firm set of her jaw down her throat to her white blouse and the top button that look perilously close to popping open and giving him a great view of her cleavage. Ive put my money and energy into Morts. Next week my buddy Steve and I have a meeting with a couple of investors to talk about starting a business giving helicopter tours in the area. Who knows if it will pan out? Owning bars is what I know, but I really want to branch out and have other interests. That way I dont feel as if Im standing still. He pushed the martini glass toward her and wondered if she was even listening to him.

Her fingers touched the stem. Why do you feel as if youre standing still?

He guessed she had been listening. I dont know. Maybe because as a kid I couldnt wait to get the hell out of here. He reached for the toothpick in his martini and bit an olive off the end. But here I am.

Your family is here. I dont have familywell, except for a few cousins Ive met briefly. If I had a brother or sister, Id want to live by them. At least I hope I would.

He recalled that her mother had died when shed been young. Wheres your father?

I dont know. I never met him. She stirred her martini with the olives. How do you know what I drink?

He wondered if shed purposely changed the subject. I know all your secrets. She looked a bit alarmed and he laughed. I remember what you were drinking the first night I saw you. He walked around the end of the bar and sat next to her. She turned to face him and he planted one of his feet between hers on the rungs of her stool. She wore a black skirt and his knee forced the material up her smooth thighs.

Really? She picked up the drink and gazed at him over the top of the glass. She drained half of her drink. Sucking down his best gin as if it were water, and if she wasnt careful, hed have to drive her home. Which wasnt a bad idea. Im surprised you remember anything beyond Darlas tempting offer to show you her bare bottom, she said and licked her bottom lip.

I remember you were being a smart-ass that night too. He took her hand and brushed his thumb across the backs of her knuckles. I wondered what it would be like to kiss your smart mouth.

Now you know.

Yes. He moved his gaze across her face, her cheeks, and jaw and wet lips. He looked back up into her eyes. Now that I know, I think about all the places I didnt get to kiss you the other night.

She set her glass on the bar. Lord, youre good.

Im good at a lot of things.

Especially at saying just the right thing to make a woman feel like you really mean it.

He dropped her hand. You dont think I mean it?

She grabbed her camera and spun around on her stool. Mick moved his foot and she stood. Im sure you do mean it. She turned her back on him and raised her camera. Every time you say it and to every woman you say it to.

Mick picked up his glass and also stood. You think Ive said that to other women?

She adjusted the focus and snapped a picture of the empty tables. The strobe flashed and she said, Of course.

That stung, especially since it wasnt true. Well, honey, you dont give yourself enough credit.

I give myself a lot of credit. Another click and flash, then she said, But I know how things are.

He took a drink and the cool gin warmed a path down his throat and settled next to a spot of irritation. Tell me what you think you know.

I know Im not the only woman you spend time with. She lowered her camera and moved to one end of the bar.

Youre the only woman Im seeing right now.

Right now. Youll move on. Im sure were all interchangeable.

Mick walked away as the strobe flashed. I didnt think you had a problem with that. He moved into the dark shadows and leaned a hip into the jukebox.

I dont. Im just saying that Im sure were all the same in the dark.

She was really starting to piss him off, but he had a feeling that was her point. He wondered why the hell hed wanted to see her so damn bad. She believed the gossip about him, and he wondered why he cared. She didnt mind if he saw other women, and he wondered why that bothered him. Maybe he should. Maybe he should kick her ass out and call someone else. The problem was he didnt want to call someone else, and that ticked him off almost as much as her attitude.

She took several photos of the floor in front of the bar from different angles, then he said, Youre wrong about that. Not all pussy is the same in the dark.

She glanced over at him. Hed meant to offend her, but typical of Maddie, she didnt act like other women. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Are you trying to make me mad?

It seems fair. Youre trying to make me mad.

She thought a moment and then confessed, Youre right.

Why?

Maybe because I dont want to think about what Im doing. She moved to the end of the bar and looked at the no-skid mats on the floor. She snapped a few photos, then lowered her camera. Just above a whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear, she said, This is harder than I thought it would be.

He straightened.

Its the same bar and mirrors and lighting and old cash register. She set the camera down and grasped the end of the bar. The only things that are different are the blood and the bodies.

Mick walked toward her and set his glass on the railing as he passed it.

There was a catch in her voice when she said, She died here. How can you stand it?

He placed his hands on her shoulders. I dont think about it anymore.

She turned and looked up at him, her eyes wide and stricken. How is that possible? Your mother killed your father right at the top of the stairs.

Its just a place. Four walls and roof. He slid his hands down her arms and back up again. It happened a long time ago. Like I said, I dont think about it.

I do. She bit her lip and turned her head away to wipe at her eyes.

Mick had never met a writer before Maddie, but it did seem to him as if she were awfully emo tional for a woman writing a book about people she didnt even know.