Chapter Eighteen

~ Maddie ~

Jackson is mad at me.

Since he arrested Marco at the Hideaway, he hasn’t stopped by the Briar Patch in the morning. It’s been two days now.

I’m not sure if I should reach out to him or just give him some space.

I push back from my desk, away from the spreadsheet on my computer that I can’t concentrate on.

I don’t owe Jackson anything. We’re just friends and what kind of a friend gets mad at someone for living their own life?

Going to the Hideaway could be considered…research. He’s been my expert source for a while now, but that doesn’t mean that I have to run my every move by him.

“Darn him.”

I don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud until Jenna walks into the office and puts her purse on her desk.

“Are you talking about Chief Bradley?”

“I did not mean to say that out loud.”

“You’d better be careful, because he’s out in the shop. He wants to talk to you.”

My face flames and my heart pounds. I wonder what else I might have unwittingly said aloud.

“I didn’t say it very loud, did I?” I ask.

Jenna shrugs as she sits down at her desk. “Loud enough.”

“Oh, shoot. Really?”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. I only heard you because I was walking through the door. Do you want me to send him back here? I can help Alicia on the sales floor.”

“Thanks, but no. I know you have a lot to do to get ready for the festival tomorrow. I’ll help you when I get back. Think about what you want me to do.”

A slow smile spreads over Jenna’s face. “One thing you can do is help me figure out how to juggle Todd and Ian. Todd’s sharing my booth and I’m supposed to share mulled wine with Ian during the festival.”

The color is high on Jenna’s cheeks and her eyes are sparkling.

“You like them?” I ask, feeling like a teenager talking boys with my best friend.

She laughs and covers her mouth. “I do. I want to get to know both of them. I mean they’re both so different. Todd and I had a chance to talk after everything settled down at the Hideaway. He’s nice. And Ian… Why is it either feast or famine?”

“You go, girl. You don’t have to choose. I think it would be a good thing for them to know that they’re each other’s competition. That’ll make them work harder.”

Jenna laughs and it makes my heart sing. I haven’t seen my girl this happy in a while. It’s good for her after all that’s happened with Riley.

Which reminds me… I make a face. “I’d better go out and face the moment of reckoning with the chief. He’s not very happy with me after what went down at the Hideaway. I’m sure I’m going to get a lecture about interfering in a police investigation. And you know what I’m going to say?”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’m going to tell him he’s not the boss of me. If I want to hang out at the Hideaway, I can. It’s none of his business.”

Jenna’s eyes are huge and she laughs. “He’s probably just concerned for your safety.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I think it’s true. Because he likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t. Right now he won’t even speak to me.”

“Well, I don’t think he hauled his fine behind all the way over to the shop to ignore you. He likes you.”

I make a frustrated noise.

My insolent child laughs—and then she starts talking in a sing-songy voice like Sandra Bullock in 'Miss Congeniality,' one of our favorite girls’ night movies, saying things like he thinks you’re pretty and he wants to kiss you.

Sheer panic courses through me like a thousand volts of electricity.

“Stop,” I whisper. “He’s going to hear you.”

“He can’t hear me. Hey, Jackson, can you hear me?”

“Did you say something, Jenna?” he calls.

My mouth falls open and I pantomime pulling out my hair and then hit the air in her direction, stopping just before he walks into the office.

“Jackson, how nice to see you,” I say. My face feels hot.

“Put your coat on.” He’s not smiling. “Come take a walk with me.”

“Good morning to you, too,” I say.

I glimpse Jenna at her computer. I can tell she’s doing her best not to laugh.

Jackson’s back is to her as I’m pulling on my coat. Jenna turns to me and silently mouths, “He thinks you’re pretty. He wants to kiss you.”

“What are you—” Jackson turns around and catches Jenna puckering her lips. He frowns and knits his brows as my daughter sits there with a ridiculous pucker on her pretty face looking everywhere but at him.

“You two are…chipper this morning,” he grumbles, sounding like someone who woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or maybe his mood is because he didn’t get his morning coffee.

“I won’t be long,” I say to her. “I know we have a million things to do to get ready for tomorrow.”

Jackson walks ahead of me and holds the shop door open.

“Alicia, I’m stepping out for a moment. But Jenna is in the office.”

“Take all the time you need,” she says. “Morning, Chief.”

Jackson grumbles something that might pass for good morning. But, then again, it might pass for a growling bear, too.

It’s a gorgeous, cool December morning. The cloudless sky is that particular shade of robin’s egg blue that won’t allow you to be in a bad mood, even if a handsome cop is glowering at you.

I smile at him. He doesn’t smile back, but I don’t care.

“Do you want coffee, or do you just want to walk?” he asks.

“Me? I had my coffee at the Briar Patch this morning. Yesterday morning, too. I think you could benefit from some.”

He scowls, then looks both ways before he steps onto Main Street. I refrain from making a joke about the chief of police jaywalking. It would be pushing things too far. Instead, I follow him across the empty street, to the Briar Patch bakery, where he is holding the door open for me again.

We make silent, short order of getting coffee in to-go cups and set out walking on Main Street, past the shops and restaurants, past the park with its decorated Christmas tree standing at the ready for the lighting ceremony tomorrow night.

He sits on a bench in the park that faces the gazebo. I sit down, too, but I wait for him to start talking.

“Do you realize what a dangerous position you put yourself, your daughter, and friends in?”

Oh, so now I’m the ringleader.

Well, I sort of am. But not really—

“Jackson, we’re all adults. We weren’t breaking the law by going to the Hideaway.”

“No, you were just putting yourself in grave danger. You don’t seem to realize this is real, Maddie. This is not one of your cozy mysteries. These are bad people we’re dealing with. Maybe I shouldn’t have overlooked that you, Jenna, and Ben crossed the police line. I trusted that after Jenna was cleared as a suspect you’d stop this nonsense and quit interfering in my investigation.”

Wow. He’s really mad at me. Suddenly, I feel like a kid who has been called to the principal’s office. I’m surprised by how upsetting it is.

I’ve always been such a rule follower. But…

“I did not set out to interfere with your investigation, as you put it.” My voice is low and level. I want him to know that he has no right to tell me what I can and can’t do. “You said you’d cleared the crime scene before we entered Riley’s condo. Last time I checked, the Hideaway was a public place.”

“Why are you making this so difficult, Maddie? There’s a murderer on the loose. If something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.” His voice is shaky, and it sort of takes my breath away.

I blink away the image of Jenna singing her song about Jackson liking me and wanting to kiss me.

My left thumb makes its reflexive move to the back of my ring finger and finds the gold band that lives there.

I can’t speak because, well, I don’t know what to say. I’m tempted to remind him that I still consider myself married. And maybe it’s a good idea if we don’t meet for coffee anymore. I can find another expert source. I mean, how often do I ask him about police procedure?

Okay, pretty often.

But there are books I can consult. There are libraries full of books. And there’s the internet. And he’s not the only cop in the world.

If I could make my legs work, I’d stand up and walk away.

No, I’d run—

“Did you know Marco Gianetti had a key to Riley Buxston’s condo?”

Wait. Is he talking to me about the case again?

“He confessed that he took it from Riley one night when he was at the Hideaway. I guess Riley didn’t notice. Or he thought he lost it. He must’ve had a spare. He didn’t even have the sense to have the elevator’s card reader reprogrammed for a new key code. It’s not that difficult. And now he’s dead.”

We sit in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry for being such a hard nose,” he finally says. “These are some really bad people. If they killed Riley, they’ll kill again if they think you’re getting too close.”

He reaches out and takes my hand. He gives it a squeeze. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t want anything to happen to you. I care about you.”

He withdraws his hand and I feel the full weight of the situation.

He’s right. Not only did I put myself in harm’s way, but I dragged my daughter into it. The person I love the best in this world.

“You’re right,” I say. “This isn’t a game. I get it. I just wanted to see Riley’s killer brought to justice and I thought I could help. But I’ll leave it alone.”

He nods and we sit side by side sipping our coffee. The tension lightens. Sort of. Only now, there’s a bit more heft to whatever this thing is that’s between us.

This thing that can’t be anything because…I just can’t.

“Do you think Marco killed Riley?” I ask.

He slants me a glance.

“Hey,” I say, eager to right this axis that’s tilted. “Just because I said I wouldn’t interfere, doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it. I might be able to use this in a future plot.”

He laughs and relaxes. “I don’t think he did. His alibi checks out. Based on his performance in the elevator when he went in to get the watch, he had no clue about the security camera. He had a key. If he was the killer, he would’ve taken the elevator up. We don’t have anyone on film after Jenna. What we have is a gaping hole in the case. If the killer didn’t get in by elevator or stairs, how did he get into Riley’s condo?”

~ Jenna ~

When I agreed to share the booth, I thought Todd would just be handing out flyers and maybe need some table space to register people who wanted to sign up for the scholarship fund-raiser early.

I didn’t realize he would bring so much gear to promote his gym, Devlin Fitness. Portable rock climbing wall, a computer hooked up to a TV-sized monitor playing a video on loop showcasing the programs and fitness classes his gym offers.

Granted, enticing people with a free climb on the rock wall if they bought a ticket to the fund-raiser is a brilliant strategy. The Christmas tree and Tiffany window lighting only happened an hour ago and he’s already signed up nine people for the scholarship drive.

He’s doing a good thing. Why shouldn’t he get some PR out of it for his business? That’s why I moved the marketing paraphernalia I brought for Champagne Wedding and Event Designs over to Blissful Beginnings Bridal Boutique’s booth, which is next to my booth.

Ever the astute businesswoman, Mom is seizing this opportunity to clean house and offering last year’s sample gowns at seventy-five percent off. She even brought a small cabana, which she’s set up behind the booth to use as a two-person dressing room.

I know I can count on my mother and Alicia to give my business card to everyone who stops by her booth. It leaves me free to help Todd and do rounds to make sure everything is going smoothly for all the other vendors. After all, I am the chair of the festival.

I’m just returning from doing that when I see Brianna, Todd’s assistant, who looks pretty and fit in her Devlin Fitness warmup suit, coaching someone up the wall. She’s blonde and tan, even in December, and carries herself with the perfect posture and confidence of a woman who works out at least twice a day, every day, and probably teaches boot camp classes in her spare time.

I remember Todd saying she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night of Riley’s bachelor party and he’d comforted her. It shouldn’t matter, but now that I’m interested in him, it can’t help but matter.

Brianna has been flirting with him since they arrived, acting territorial. Actually, it makes me feel better about meeting Ian here later.

Because, while I’m attracted to Todd in a physical way, I like Ian, too, for all the opposite reasons. They’re two completely different types.

It’s fun to have choices.

“I’ve never climbed a rock wall,” I say to Todd. “Is it hard?”

“Nahh. It just requires basic upper body strength. You can do it.” He smiles at me in that way that makes him attractive.

“What do you say that we get you up on the wall after this person comes down?” Todd says.

“Me? Oh, my gosh. No. I’d probably fall off and break something.”

“No, you won’t. It’s perfectly safe.”

Even if I didn’t fall off, I would definitely fracture my pride making a fool of myself. I have zero upper body strength. Unlike Ms. Universe, Brianna, who could probably scale it like a primate climbing a palm tree.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be good to drum up interest.” Todd nods to the knot of people who have stopped to watch the current climber, a teenage boy who is now halfway up the wall. Once he reaches the top, he’ll ring a bell and Brianna will help him rappel down. “When someone’s on the wall, people stop and watch. It fascinates them. They ask if they can have a turn and then we reel them in for the fund-raiser.”

He gives me a knowing look that suggests I’d be letting down the cause if I didn’t take my turn and attract more people.

“I don’t know, Todd. I might be a cautionary tale and make people stay away. I think Brianna is a better model.”

Hearing her name, Brianna casts a narrow-eyed glance over her shoulder.

Todd laughs and touches my arm. “I’m not giving up that easy. I’ll get you up there before the night is over.”

“I want to see you climb it,” I say.

I’m shameless. I admit it. Despite the cold, he’ll probably take off his jacket and I want to see his biceps bunch and the way his butt will look in his tight blue athletic pants with the neon green stripe around the waistband and down the outer seam of the leg. I laugh to myself imagining the neon trim somehow turning and pointing like an arrow at his tight butt.

Look here! Look here!

His cell phone rings. The choice words he mutters under his breath break the spell.

“Excuse me,” he says. “I need to take this.”

He turns and walks away. I try not to look there as he answers his phone. The terse greeting he gives the caller spoils the moment. “What? I told you not to call me. I’m busy tonight.”

I wonder if it’s an ex-girlfriend on the other end of the line. If not, who would elicit that kind of response? It gives me pause.

While I find him physically attractive most of the time, this is the second time I’ve witnessed his switch flip from affable good guy to almost militant sternness. It bothers me. The first time was at the Hideaway the other night when he grabbed Marco by the collar. Then again, Marco, the thieving weasel, deserved it.

But he was the one who drove Mom back to the church last Saturday after they found Riley. He’s also doing something completely selfless and wonderful to keep alive the memory of his late best friend.

Because of Riley’s death, we’ve all been under a lot of stress. I think about how Jackson was toward Mom the other day. Having a murder in our hometown will make people edgy.

I stand there watching the kid on the wall, but my ears are listening to Todd.

“Okay, fine,” he snaps. “Just hang tight and I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The kid rings the bell and I clap along with the other bystanders.

“Hey, Jenna, I’m sorry, but I have to step away for a minute. I’ll be right back, okay? Brianna can answer any questions about the gym and the wall. She can show you how to process credit cards payments for the fund-raiser if you want to help.”

“No problem. I’ll hand out flyers, too.”

He smiles his dazzling smile and winks at me. “You are the best. And I mean that.”

Did I mention his dazzling smile?

Just as Todd predicted, after watching the kid climb the wall, someone from the crowd of onlookers signs up for the fund-raiser and takes a turn.

“This is so cool,” he says to his friends as Brianna helps him into the harness. “A free climb now and a whole day of climbing for the fund-raising event. You all should sign up, too. It’ll be fun.”

Just in case he hasn’t convinced his posse to follow suit, I grab flyers off the table and hand them out. There are only four left in the stack. I quickly give away all but one.

“Brianna, are there more flyers anywhere?”

“I don’t think so. We only brought one stack.”

“I’ll take this last one and run to the shop. It’s just down the street. I’ll make copies and be right back. If you need anything just ask my mom or Alicia. They’re in the booth next to ours.”

“Thanks,” she says.

I consider telling Mom or Alicia where I’m going, but both are busy with customers and I don’t want to interrupt. I grab my keys, cell phone, and the flyer. I’ll probably be back before they’re finished. They won’t even know I’m gone.

It’s nice to step away from the festival and view it from a distance. Underneath the convivial hum of happy people and generators supplying power to the booths and the army of food trucks in the nearby parking lot, I hear the sound of the high school chorus singing Christmas carols. This is Christmas in Hemlock. It’s all about family and the community coming together to help its own heal. It makes me believe that even though we all are still hurting from the loss, eventually things will be okay.

I take a deep breath, enjoying the inner warmth of being part of this community and the satisfaction of chairing the festival and having it go off without a hitch. It’s cool out tonight, but not unbearably cold. I tilt my face up to the inky, cloudless sky and take in the glow of the holiday lights and decorations.

I love Christmas so much.

I’m almost to the shop when I hear the purr of a car engine in the parking garage behind the row of storefronts that houses Blissful Beginnings Bridal Boutique. I wouldn’t think much of it if not for the faint sound of angry voices.

I glance around to see if anyone else is within earshot, but traffic on Main Street is nonexistent tonight because all the action is happening in the park and the lot with the food trucks. All the shops are dark and locked up tight and despite the glow of the streetlights and decorations, which felt homey and healing a moment ago, I suddenly feel vulnerable being here alone with two angry men arguing ten yards away at the entrance of the dark garage.

The car’s motor is purring, but the headlights are off. I blink in that direction and my eyes adjust enough to see the neon green trim of Todd’s warmup pants.

Look here. Look here.

No, not at his butt, at who he’s talking to.

Todd shifts to one side enough for me to see Ear Gauge Guy behind the wheel. Todd opens his wallet and is shoving what looks like a wad of cash at the guy.

My hearts thuds and I move into the shadows of the building before they see me.

What is Todd doing with that guy? He said he’d never seen him before. Now he’s giving him cash? Does Todd owe Ear Gauge money just like Riley?

I wish I could make note of the car, a newer-looking red BMW. The engine sounds fast. I don’t know what model and I can’t see the tags.

I consider waiting here until Ear Gauge leaves to see if I can get the license plate number and to make sure that Todd is okay, but it’s probably better if I get inside and call for help.

I was going to enter through the shop’s front door, but I’m afraid that if I do and the car pulls onto Main Street, Ear Gauge will catch me going inside because it takes a minute to unlock the front doors and disable the alarm. He saw me the other night at the Hideaway. I wonder if that’s why he’s taking issue with Todd.

I walk to the far side of the building and double back to the back entrance, which is in a secluded pedestrian alley away from the garage. There’s an alarm keypad by the back door and I can shut myself inside the office without anyone seeing lights from the street.

Once I’m inside, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m certain Ear Gauge didn’t see me. I hope.

My hands are shaking. I debate whether I should call 911. Technically, this isn’t an emergency. I just witnessed two guys arguing. Granted one of those guys is a suspected killer, but we don’t know for certain that he did it. If I dial 911, it will be directed through the county’s dispatcher. Hemlock shares emergency notification services with Transylvania County. They’ll likely send every Hemlock police officer to the shop. The flashing lights and sirens will pull people away from the festival and by that time Ear Gauge will be long gone.

I remember that the chief called me before he came by the shop to interview me the other day. I scroll through the call log on my phone and hit redial. The call goes directly to his voice mail. He probably called me from his desk phone, not his personal cell. The end of his message instructs the caller to call the non emergency number and ask the dispatcher to call him.

That’s what I do.

“Is this an emergency?” she asks.

I don’t recognize her voice. “Doris, is that you?” I ask, hoping that Hemlock’s police receptionist is on duty tonight.

“No, I’m sorry, this is an answering service. If this is an emergency, I can patch you through to 911.”

“No, please don’t. Just please give Chief Bradley the message that Jenna Bell needs him to call her as soon as possible.”

I give her my number and hang up. Then I call Mom. She has Jackson’s cell number. She can call him and explain the situation and put him on alert.

The call goes to voice mail because she’s probably silenced her ringer since she’s focused on customers. I try Alicia. Same thing.

Out of desperation, I send a group text to my mother and Alicia since they’re both at the booth where I hope Todd will return soon. Then I’ll know that Ear Gauge is gone and it’s safe to walk back.

“Don’t panic but I saw Todd talking to Ear Gauge in the parking garage when I was on my way to the shop to use the copy machine. Call the chief and have him call me. I’ll hang out here until I hear from him. DO NOT COME DOWN HERE. Stay where it’s safe. DO NOT CALL 911. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

I hold my breath, waiting for that mother-daughter ESP to kick in, the sixth sense that twigs when a mother’s child is in danger, but my phone doesn’t ring.

Of course, I’m not a child. It would be in my best interest not to act like one.

My mind starts going through the possibilities of what I could do to be both proactive and stay safe—like call an Uber to pick me up and drive me to the park—or call 911 and make a scene—but everything seems too extreme.

Calm down. You’re just spooked because of what happened to Riley.

The reality is Ear Gauge is probably gone by now. Todd is probably back at the booth. It’s not like they’re going to hang out in a parking garage fighting with each other all night.

I take a deep breath and decide to make my copies and walk back the festival. Everything will be okay.

I turn on the copy machine and it seems like it takes ages for it to warm up and finally chug to life. I put the flyer, which is now wrinkled and mussed because of the way I was hanging on to it like a lifeline.

I start to program in the quantity to print one hundred flyers, but I get an error message. Toner needs to be replaced.

Does the universe hate me right now?

Okay, calm down.

I have an MBA. It can’t be that difficult to change a toner cartridge. Yeah, right. They should make all higher degree candidates pass a course on the care and feeding of copy machines.

I roll up my sleeves and prepare to do battle. Woman against the machine. Then my head explodes in pain under a crushing blow and everything goes black.