Maggie couldn’t stop laughing, even when she noticed Zack peering through the screen door, an odd look on his face. He stepped inside, tucking his small cell phone into the pocket of his jeans. “Are you okay?” he asked Queenie.
She came to a dead stop, and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Everest snapped upright and threw his shoulders back as though standing at attention, and Maggie tried to swallow her laughter.
Queenie blinked. “Um, I, um. It’s just gas,” she said.
Zack looked amused. “You might want to have that checked out.” He turned to Maggie. “Could we chat for a minute? Alone,” he added.
Zack followed Maggie through the living room to the front door. He thought she looked a little stiff; she was probably trying to prepare for bad news, and it pissed him off that he couldn’t make things okay for her and Mel.
They stepped outside and Zack decided he liked the front porch, with its large rocking chairs with fat cushions, and ferns and potted plants. He’d noticed it first thing when he’d arrived earlier. Maggie Davenport was all about providing and making a good home for her daughter, and it grated on him that some mean son of a bitch would think nothing of destroying it.
He waited for Maggie to sit in one of the rockers before dragging the one next to it closer to her. She turned to him, her eyes troubled and expectant. “Okay, Madden, lay it on me,” she said, and he knew she was trying to sound brave. The faint tremble of her bottom lip told him she was having trouble pulling it off.
“I just got some news,” he said. “A security guard spotted the red Jeep Cherokee used in Stanton’s escape.”
“Where’d they find it?”
“Sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot, not far from the hospital,” he said. “I’m pretty certain Stanton wasn’t interested in shopping.”
“Not unless there was a sale on handguns,” she said.
“As I mentioned earlier, I think they had another car lined up. It would be too risky to steal one, although police are checking stolen-vehicle reports as they come in. Until now, all they’ve had to go on is the Cherokee.” He saw the disappointment in her eyes.
“Which means Carl Lee and his groupies have probably been on the road since ten-thirty this morning,” she said.
“Unless they had to look for a place to dump a body,” he said. “Our witness was right; the guy who pulled Stanton inside got hit. There was blood on the backseat of the car.”
“How do they know it wasn’t Carl Lee’s?” she asked. “It happened so fast. I understand there was a lot of confusion.”
He noted the hopeful look on her face. “It’s possible. The crime lab in Houston is going over the vehicle now.” She raked her hands through her hair, and Zack wondered if it was just a habit or if she was trying to compose herself. He watched the thick dark strands slide through her fingers and fall to her shoulders.
“What do we do in the meantime?” she asked.
“We wait.”
Max Holt walked into his wife’s office where she was eyeballing her computer monitor. “Hello, gorgeous.”
She looked up. “Oh, now you show up.” She crossed her arms and tried to look miffed, but miffed wasn’t easy with Max standing there grinning. She pulled her thermometer from her desk drawer where she kept it hidden from Vera. She waved it about. “Where were you when my temperature went up?”
He chuckled, rounded her desk, and sat on the edge. “Sorry about that. I was going through the plant, and I accidentally left my cell phone on my desk. I’m not usually so forgetful, but my wife is wearing me down with this sex-on-demand business.”
Jamie uncrossed her arms. She knew how anxious Max was to start production at the polymer plant. “We’re never going to get pregnant,” she said on a sigh. “I’m going to end up on fertility drugs. Women on fertility drugs usually have about eighteen babies.”
“Maybe we should stop trying so hard.”
Jamie shook her head sadly. “Poor Fleas is going to be an only child.”
They both looked at the snoring hound, sprawled on his back in front of the window. Max cocked his head to the side. “Is it me or is he getting better looking by the day?”
“Trust me, it’s you.” Jamie turned back to Max, her expression suddenly serious. “We have to talk. My friend Maggie is in trouble.”
“I know.”
She was surprised. “How do you know?”
“Helms called me. You can stop worrying now because there’s an agent already in place. Zack Madden will be staying with Maggie and her daughter until this thing with Carl Lee Stanton is over.”
“Why did Helms call you?”
“They needed more information on Stanton.”
“And they know you don’t have a problem breaking the law getting it,” she said.
“Only if it’s for a good cause,” Max said with a grin.
“Uh-huh. So what do you know about this Madden guy?”
“His father was the agent Stanton gunned down.”
“Holy crap!”
“Yeah. All of this is strictly confidential,” Max said. “Helms pulled a few strings so Madden could have the case. To sort of make up for the fact the bureau screwed up. Evidence was mishandled and lost. Which is why Stanton escaped the death penalty,” he added.
“I have a vague recollection of the case,” Jamie said, “but we were busy trying to get Maggie out of town and do the whole cover-up thing.” She paused. “Does Maggie know it’s personal for Madden?”
“No, and it is best that she doesn’t. Zack Madden has revenge on his mind. He’s going to take Stanton out.”
Chapter Four
Maggie went about the house pulling shades and closing drapes once she and Zack had finished their conversation. She knocked on the door to Mel’s room and found the girl sprawled on her bed sketching. Mel looked up but turned her sketch pad facedown. She was, at times, self-conscious about people seeing her work.
“We need to talk about the new house rules that Zack has put into place,” Maggie said, trying to sound casual as she listed them and went about the room pulling the curtains closed. Zack had taken down the café curtains over the kitchen sink and covered the window with aluminum foil, even as Queenie had shaken her head and told him how tacky it looked.
“He’s just taking extra precautions,” Maggie said, “and it’s only temporary.” She turned. “This is going to break your heart, but you’ll have to miss a couple of days of school.”
“What about my friends?” Mel asked. “Will I be allowed to visit them?”
“We’ll have to discuss it with Zack.” Mel didn’t look happy. “It’s not forever,” Maggie reminded. “The police are doing everything they can to find Carl Lee.” Maggie clasped her hands together in front of her. “We should talk.”
Mel gave a pained expression. “Mom, I don’t want to talk any more right now, okay? If you want to talk to somebody why don’t you talk to Aunt Queenie about how she’s stinking up the whole house?”
“She’s boiling basil to, um, protect the house.”
“Can’t you make her stop?”
“What do you think?”
Mel made a sound of exasperation. “None of my friends have all this voodoo crap in their houses. It’s dumb. Everything that’s going on here is dumb. My whole life is dumb.” Mel turned on her back and stared at the ceiling.
Maggie prayed her daughter would get through puberty quickly. “Yeah, life can be like that sometimes,” she said, heading for the door. “Just one dumb thing after another.”
Maggie finished her grocery list and pulled a large container of spaghetti sauce from the freezer to thaw in the microwave. She had decided if the house was going to smell Italian she should cook something Italian for dinner to go with it. Mel had left her room in search of a snack and was in the process of spreading peanut butter, cream cheese, and strawberry jam on a warm bagel as Everest watched. The girl cut the bagel down the center and handed him half. “Try it.”
Everest took
a bite. “Hey, that’s good.”
“Told you.” Mel took a big bite.
Maggie listened in amusement as Mel went through the list of ingredients carefully so Everest could commit it to memory. “Don’t tell him how fattening it is, Mel,” she said.
“Oh, right, Mom,” Mel said with a grunt of a laugh. “This coming from a woman who eats her weight in chocolate.”
“Okay, so I have one teeny-tiny vice,” Maggie said.
Mel looked at Everest. “The only reason my mom isn’t fat is because she has good genes. My grandmother is thin and so was my great-grandmother.”
“Did they eat a lot of chocolate too?” Everest asked.
Mel nodded. “Tons of it.”
Maggie opened the pantry and searched through it for spaghetti. All she could find was a box of macaroni and cheese. “If I don’t buy groceries soon we’re going to be in trouble.”
“I want pizza,” Mel said. “We always order pizza delivery on the weekend.”
“When you’re home,” Maggie answered, “which you seldom are.”
“You could go out on weekends too if you wanted,” Mel said, “instead of sitting home reading your dumb medical journals. You’re long-suffering.”
“Excuse me?” Maggie arched one brow.
“You haven’t come to terms with Dad’s death. You compare every man you meet to him, and they always fall short. You need closure, Mom.”
“That’s deep,” Everest said.
“She probably heard that on Oprah,” Queenie said, reading the newspaper at the table. “They’re always saying stuff like that on Oprah.”
“Nope,” Mel said. “Caitlin told me. She heard it from her mom who heard it from—”
“Abby Bradley,” Maggie and Queenie said in unison.
“Uh-huh.” Mel finished her bagel and licked her fingers.
“I’ll bet Abby heard it on Oprah,” Queenie said. “Abby isn’t smart enough to come up with something like that on her own. She’s not even smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, somebody needs to teach that woman a good lesson.”
“That somebody better not be you,” Maggie told her.
“Bottom line, Mom,” Mel continued. “You need to start dating. People are going to think you’re weird. I know you can find somebody in this town you’re attracted to.”
“I could help you with that,” Queenie said, giving Maggie a big smile.
“Yes, you’ve told me. A trillion times,” Maggie added. “And the answer is still N-O.”
“All you would have to do is pick out a man you like,” Queenie went on as though she hadn’t heard a word Maggie said. “And leave the rest up to me. Mel is right. There has to be one man in this town you find attractive. All it takes is one.”
The back door opened and Zack stepped through. Four sets of eyes stared at him.
“Why is everybody staring at me?” he asked. “If you tell me I have ketchup on my face it’s going to be hard to explain because I haven’t been near the stuff.”
“Um, we were just trying to decide what kind of pizza to order,” Maggie said, “and wondering what you like.”
He shrugged. “I’m easy to please.”
“Me too,” Everest said.
“I’ll call Crusty’s,” Mel said, going for the phone. “I’ll order one large pepperoni and one with everything.”
Zack looked at Maggie. “I forgot to ask you earlier,” he said. “What’s the deal with the goat?”
Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! Poor Butterbean!”
Mel stopped in her tracks and slapped her palm against her forehead. “I forgot we had a dumb goat. It’s hard to think with Aunt Queenie doing her smelly voodoo thing.”
“Be careful what you say about my practices,” Queenie said sternly. “I’d hate to have to put the root on you.”
Mel rolled her eyes back so far in her head that Maggie was certain she’d caught a glimpse of her brain.
“And don’t you roll those eyes at me, young lady,” Queenie said. “You know I don’t tolerate eye-rolling. You keep rolling those eyes, and you might just find them stuck like that for a while.”
“Okay, I’ll do this instead.” Mel stepped closer; raised her fingers to her eyes and turned the lids inside out.
“Oh, Lord!” Queenie cried, backing away and giving a huge shudder. “Stop that!”
Zack grinned and looked at Maggie who simply shook her head. “Ignore it,” she whispered.
“Wow!” Everest said. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. How long can she do that?”
Mel stuck her head forward, giving Queenie a better view. “I can’t find my eyeballs,” the girl wailed.
“Get away from me,” Queenie cried, grimacing, “or I’m going to smack your backside so hard with this wooden spoon that you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
“Cut it out, Mel,” Maggie said, trying to concentrate on what to do with the goat.
Mel turned toward her mother’s voice, arms flailing. “Is that you, Mom?” she said, putting her hand on Maggie’s face and exploring it with her fingertips.
Zack and Everest laughed.
Maggie’s expression was deadpan, even though it was hard to remain straight-faced over her daughter’s antics, no matter how juvenile. “Please fix your eyes,” she said calmly.
“They’re gone. Aunt Queenie stole them for her witch’s brew.”
Maggie shrugged. “Guess that means you can’t order pizza. Too bad.”
Finally, the girl rubbed her eyes and blinked several times until the lids were back in place. She headed for the phone.
Queenie looked relieved.
“I forgot about Butterbean too,” Maggie told Zack, feeling sorry for the little pygmy with the kooky-looking eyes that nobody seemed to want. “I don’t have any goat food. I don’t even have a place to keep her. Except for maybe the garage. She’ll need hay.”
“I can get it,” Everest said. “Carter’s Hardware and Feed is ten minutes from here.”
“Take the van,” Zack said, tossing him the keys.
Maggie was relieved. “I really appreciate it,” she said. She reached for her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Go ahead and grab two bales of hay if you have enough money.”
“Oh, wait,” Zack said and pulled out his wallet. “How about picking up half a dozen good-quality night-lights from the hardware department.”
“Wow, you must really be afraid of the dark,” Mel said as the others gave him a questioning look.
Zack shrugged. “You never know when they might come in handy.”
“I’m on it,” Everest said. He opened the back door and jumped at the sight of a young man with tousled brown hair and a wrinkled coat. A camera hung from his neck. “You half scared me to death!” Everest said. “Who are you?”
“Mike Henderson from the Gazette.” He had to look straight up to see Everest. “Wow, you’re big.”
Everest nodded. “I was born big. That’s why I was named after a mountain.”
“Is your name Matterhorn?”
Zack joined Everest at the door. “What can I do for you, Mr. Henderson?” he asked.
The reporter pried his eyes off Everest. “I was hoping to have a word with Dr. Davenport.”
“Why?”
Mike looked surprised. “Well, um, I’d like to talk to her about an old friend of hers by the name of Carl Lee Stanton.”
“Why?” Zack repeated.
“I’m writing an article about his escape this morning, and I wanted Dr. Davenport’s response.”
“Did he say his name was Henderson?” Queenie suddenly shouted. “That’s the smart-aleck reporter who wrote the nasty article about my family.” She stepped up to the door, hands on hips.
Everest frowned. “Do you want me to have a little talk with him before I go to the feed store, Granny Queenie?”
Mike instantly paled. “I don’t know what she’s talking
about.”
“You called my grandfather a witch doctor,” Queenie said.
Everest grabbed the lapels of Mike’s jacket and lifted him off the floor. “You don’t talk about Granny Queenie’s family like that.”
“Wait! There has been a mistake,” Mike said. He looked at Queenie. “Who was your grandfather?”
“Dr. Cloud.”
“The Root Doctor? Oh, crap.”
“If I hadn’t been nursing my sick neighbor I would have marched right up to that newspaper office and given you what for. I let her talk me out of it. But now I’m mad again just seeing your face.”
Maggie and Mel exchanged sighs.
“Okay,” Zack said. “Let’s just settle down. Nobody is going to hurt anybody.”
Everest lowered Mike to the floor. “I’ll be on my way, then,” he said. “Excuse me, Mike, I need to get by.”
Mike quickly moved out of his way. He straightened his jacket, but it did little good. “Look, lady,” he said to Queenie, “I barely remember writing that article, but I would never have called your grandfather a witch doctor. I may have quoted someone. Most people don’t believe in that stuff anyway.”
Queenie started for him, but Zack blocked her. “Dr. Davenport can’t see you right now,” he said. “She’s in surgery.”
Maggie crossed the room. Enough was enough. “Excuse me,” she said, squeezing between Zack and Queenie. “I’m Dr. Davenport. You needed to speak with me, Mr. Henderson?”
Mike looked relieved. “I just wanted to get your reaction to the news about Carl Lee Stanton’s escape.”
“My reaction?” she repeated.
“You know, on account of the two of you were kind of tight at one time.”
“You need to leave before I do something you’ll regret,” Queenie said.
Maggie shot the woman one of her “don’t even think about it” looks. “Does Jamie know you’re here?” she asked Mike.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. My reaction to Carl Lee Stanton’s escape is no different from anyone else’s,” she said, an edge to her voice. “I want him caught before he hurts or kills someone else.”
“Are you afraid, Dr. Davenport?”
“What kind of question is that?” Queenie blurted.