Read One Fool At Least Online

Authors: Julia Buckley

Tags: #Mystery, #female sleuth, #Cozy, #Suspense, #Humorous, #funny, #vacation, #wedding, #honeymoon, #Romantic, #madeline mann, #Julia buckley

One Fool At Least (19 page)

He smiled, maybe at his memories. “Remember that big fight we had, back in the fall? You flew off the handle because I opened that letter? I mean, you were screaming at me. And I thought, when you marched out,
Maybe this is a sign
.
Maybe I should just
let this go
.”

I had never heard this before. I know I’d considered leaving Jack, but it was somehow horrifying to contemplate the idea that he had considered leaving
me
. “You did?”

He nodded. “For an hour or so. I was mad. But it just didn’t feel right in my gut. I knew I wanted you, and I was determined to have you, no matter how crazy you were.”

He grinned to show that he was kidding.

“I just feel this in
my
gut. I can’t send those two old geezers to prison, Jack.”

“I know,” he said. “I think I knew you would feel that way, but I just—they took you away from me, Madeline. On the first day of our honeymoon they made me think that I might never see my wife again.”

I got up and hopped on one foot until I reached his lap, and then I sat down and slid my arms around him. “It feels so nice to be your wife,” I said. “And despite what they did, we are going to have very happy memories of our honeymoon.”

He kissed me: a long, luxurious kiss that made me realize why I’d married this man and no other. “Let’s lie down,” I said.

He laughed. “On the kitchen floor?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re insatiable, Mrs. Shea.”

“Yup.”

“What about our sight-seeing?”

“First I’ll climb Mount Jack. Then we’ll deal with the Cat’s Teeth,” I assured him.

He was laughing when I kissed him again, but we never made it to the floor (which didn’t look that comfortable anyway), because there was yet another knock at the door.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I said to Jack’s neck, which I had been investigating with my tongue.

“Grand Central Station,” Jack agreed. “Remember where your mouth was,” he mumbled before yelling, “Come IN!”

The door opened and Libby peeked through, looking repentant. “Sorry, guys. I know this is your private time and everyone’s been bugging you. I’m taking the kids to town, so I thought I’d find out if you need anything.”

Jack and I looked at each other, both of us running through a quick mental checklist. “Maybe some coffee,” Jack said.

“Sure,” Libby told him. “I might have some more at the house, but I’ll stock up.”

I was going to ask for chocolate, but it seemed somehow rude to ask Libby to get it, so instead I said, “You’re taking the kids? Doesn’t Pat want to come with you?”

Libby nodded. “But he’s dealing with Wilde and the police and Slider’s dad, and he’s got his hands full. We’ll be in my car with the doors locked, or we’ll be in public buildings with other people around. We just have to see Slider’s financial advisor and his lawyer, and I’m getting a couple groceries, and I want to talk to Colleen Kirk. And I have my cell phone,” she said brightly.

Jack pushed me gently off of his lap and stood up. “Libby, let me go with you,” he said.

“Absolutely not.” Libby thrust out her chin. “We will not take one more moment away from your honeymoon. Gosh, even Pat and I got a better honeymoon than this, even though we were eighteen and broke.”

Jack smiled. “As I recall, you guys came back from California with giant grins that lasted until the following summer.”

“Sometimes we still grin that way,” Libby said, perhaps to encourage us. “See you soon.”

We watched them drive away, Libby moving at a sedate mom speed in her green SUV. Then Jack turned to me. “Listen, if you’re willing to do the sight-seeing, I need to get a few things for the drive.”

“Okay, I’ll get my purse,” I said.

Jack hesitated. “The thing is—I need to get it at Bruder Brothers. I mean Wilde Emporium, I guess it is now. They have the best selection of hiking stuff, and they’re the closest.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter; Jim and Randy don’t work there anymore, right?”

“I think they might still, sometimes. I just don’t know if you feel like—?” And suddenly I didn’t. I might not feel all that willing to press charges against Jim and Randy, but I certainly didn’t need to see them ever again.

“Um—you know what? If you’re giving me a choice here, I think I’ll stay home. I want to call my family, anyway.”

“Yeah, you do that. Are you going to tell them?” he asked, smoothing my hair.

“Hmm. Not my mom, definitely. I’ll play it by ear with the brothers.”

“Okay.” Jack kissed me. “I’m going to tell Pat to keep an eye on you. Meanwhile, door locked, phone at the ready, and no wandering off.”

“No, sir. I’m a boring old married lady now,” I joked.

Jack looked uncertain. “Well, you’re
one
of those three.”

He left a bit reluctantly, and I settled into a living room chair and dialed my mother and father’s house. My mom answered on the second ring.

“Madeline?” she asked in lieu of a hello.

“Hi, Muti. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Oh, I am just here briefly to pick up some papers for the Mayor. I forgot them. I’ve been a little distracted, wondering why you didn’t call….”

“Sorry, Mom. Things here have been—hectic. Really crazy, actually.”

“The plane ride was all right?” she asked. My mother knew all about my fear.

“It was not too bad. Except at the end. I sort of ruined things, I guess.” I told her about falling off the plane, the doctor, the crutches. I left out the part about the kidnapping.

“Oh, Sweetheart!” my mother said. “You poor thing! You can’t blame yourself for that. It’s not as though you threw yourself down the stairs. And Jack loves you no matter what. Do you know that when your father and I were on our honeymoon he took me on a little lake cruise, on a sightseeing boat? They served a meal, gave us a tour—it should have been lovely. But I was seasick the entire time, and I looked green and horrible. And all the while your father kept telling me how beautiful I was.”

“That’s sweet, Mom.”

“The point is that Jack sees you that way. Perhaps more so, now that you need his help. Men like frailty sometimes.”

“I guess. I just—I wish it could have gone the way Jack dreamed it.”

My mother sighed. “Sweetie, so little of your life will go the way you dream it. But if you embrace what comes, you’ll be happy.”

“You sound like one of those motivational calendars,” I said lightly. “But you’re right, I know. Anyway, I think I’m going to lie down and rest my foot before Jack gets back and we bundle into the car.”

“I love you, Madeline.”

“I love you, too, Muti. Give Dad a kiss.”

“All right,” my mother said cheerfully.

I hung up the phone and lay down on the plump cushions of Libby and Pat’s couch. I half closed my eyes and stretched, catlike, enjoying the silence and my torpor.

And then I sat up. Libby’s last words were suddenly floating in my head. Something about them, something wrong… and now Jack was gone.

I felt on the verge of a headache. I was in a troubled mood but I couldn’t discern why, and I wished that my leg were better so that I could pace around. Then it clicked in, and it wasn’t that bad after all. Libby had said she wanted to see Colleen Kirk. I didn’t know who that was. But that was easily solved. I called Pat.

“Hello?”

“Pat—it’s Madeline. Listen, I was just thinking about something Libby said, and I was wondering—who’s Colleen Kirk?”

“Colleen? Well, I think you met her, didn’t you? She runs the restaurant. Finn’s place.”

“I thought her name was Colleen Flanagan.”

“Her maiden name. She’s married to a young accountant in town named David Kirk. He works—”

“Oh, you know what? I met him, too. I just didn’t realize they were married. He never mentioned it.” I could hear someone speaking to Pat in the background, so I said a hasty goodbye and clicked off.

David Kirk. He was Slider’s financial advisor. So he would know all about Slider’s insurance policy, and perhaps, depending what Slider had confided, about brother Finn and brother Ardmore. David Kirk was yet another kind of brother—a brother-in-law. What was it Libby had said Finn had mumbled into the telephone?
I suppose that makes you family, but it doesn’t make you a friend.
David Kirk was married to Finn’s sister by adoption. That could explain the tenuous “I suppose that makes you family.” Even Colleen was not a blood relative to Finn. And perhaps Finn had come to think that a blood relative was more important, which would have explained his new closeness with young Slider.

But what about “it doesn’t make you a friend?” If it had been David Kirk on the phone, what had he said to Finn? Wouldn’t Finn’s comment have created some conflict? Could they have fought about it later? Struggled? Could David Kirk have shot Finn Flanagan?

It was a brand new piece of information, Kirk’s marital connection, and millions of questions danced around in my head, making me restless. It could mean nothing at all. After all, David Kirk had seemed like a pleasant and friendly young man. Just because he knew that his wealthy brother-in-law had a new brother, and therefore competition for a financial legacy, that didn’t make him a killer. And yet it would give him a motive that perhaps even Aidan and Colleen didn’t have, since they might not even know what David knew.

I thought back to Colleen in the restaurant, her genuine distress at the attack on Ardmore, and her panicked phone call to her husband. To David Kirk.
And he hadn’t
been there
. She had called his office, and he wasn’t there. In the middle of the day. Someone had shot Ardmore moments before.

Now I was pacing, with my crutches back under me. This was troublesome, very troublesome. Libby had said that David Kirk was one of the people they were going to see.

I was back on the phone, this time dialing Jack. “Hello?” he asked.

“Jack. Where are you? How close are you to home?”

“I’m just at the register. They’re ringing me up.” Then, more quietly, “Is someone horny?”

“No, no. At least not right now. I’m worried. I need a ride into town. I need to get into town and check on Libby and the kids.”

Jack’s voice changed. “What happened?”

“David Kirk is married to Finn’s sister. Did you know that?”

“No—o,” Jack said slowly. “You think this gives Kirk a motive? Knowing the money situation?”

“Do you?”

“Listen, I can’t get back there in less than twenty minutes, and then town is another fifteen. You’d better get Pat.”

“Okay. I’ll call you later.”

I hung up and re-dialed Pat. “Hello?”

“Pat, I need to get to town. I need you to take me now, to check on Libby and the kids.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice alert.

“I’ll tell you in the car. Are the cops still there?”

“No, just Angelo. I’ll send him on his way and then come get you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Pat was in
front of the guest house five minutes later, his engine running. On the way to town I explained my problem with the new information. He nodded, his expression bemused. “I see what you’re saying. I guess maybe as outsiders you and Jack have a little more distance from this, can look at it more clinically. I mean, I know all these people.”

“But Finn is dead, Pat, and Ardmore got shot. Can I call Libby’s cell phone?” I asked.

“Sure.” He handed me his own phone. “Just press number one.”

I did. With growing dread I heard “the number that you have dialed is currently unavailable….” I clicked off and handed it to Pat. “She seems to have it off.”

“That’s odd. But sometimes she doesn’t check it.” He didn’t seem urgent enough to me.

“Pat, something’s wrong here.”

“I know, I know. It’s so crazy, Maddy. You must feel like you’re in a nightmare.”

He looked at me, brow creased with worry, and I saw Jack in his face and suddenly loved him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “I just want to see that they’re okay.”

“Right. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Should I call Chief Hendricks?”

I sighed. “Well—no. Because if I’m wrong it would be more than embarrassing. Maybe it would even damage your reputation, and I certainly don’t want that. Let’s just find them and regroup.”

Pat drove, quickly but safely, into downtown Grand Blue. I scanned the streets for Shea family members or for a glimpse of Slider’s telltale hair, but saw nothing. Pat was pulling into a parking spot near Flanagan’s when he said, in a relieved tone, “There’s Libby.”

I looked where he was pointing and saw her walking swiftly down the street, away from us. I recognized the red windbreaker she’d been wearing when she stopped at the cabin, as well as her pretty brown ponytail. “Okay,” I said. “Why don’t you go check in with her? I’m fine.”

Pat hesitated, then nodded. “You’re okay here in the car. Just stay put now, all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

He got out and trotted in the direction that Libby had gone; Libby, however, was no longer visible. She had apparently gone through one of the shop doorways while Pat and I were talking.

I sighed and looked toward David Kirk’s office, which was a few doors down in the other direction. And I saw Molly. She was in the big front window, looking out, and then suddenly she was gone, almost as though some unseen puppet master had yanked her away. It was one of the strangest things I’d ever seen.

Naturally I wanted to obey Pat, and I certainly didn’t want to anger Jack by doing anything dangerous. But in all honesty I wasn’t thinking of danger just then; I just felt that something wasn’t right, and that I needed to go toward Molly. It wasn’t even really a conscious decision that had me slipping out of the car and pulling my crutches after me. I crutched toward the door of Kirk Financial, as the gold letters on the window told me, and peered inside. That’s when I knew something was wrong. No one was there, not even David Kirk himself, who should have been sitting behind his handsome desk.

“Huh,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” asked a voice, and I jumped about two feet in the air. By the time I landed I realized that it was Mike, who had wheeled soundlessly up next to me.

Other books

Salvaged (MC Romance) by Winters, Brook
Magnetic Shift by Lucy D. Briand
Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand
Dead End by Brian Freemantle
Mating Season by Allie Ritch
Night Hungers by Kathi S Barton
Lessons for Lexi by Charlene McSuede
Twelve Hours by Leo J. Maloney
Life Times by Nadine Gordimer