Cold feet(20)
Author: Brenda Novak

"He didn’t really say anything. My mother was the one talking about it."

When Caleb had swallowed, he said, "Your father must not have been a suspect right away, then."

"No, he wasn’t drawn into it until two years later, when some woman claimed she saw my father’s truck leaving the house of her neighbor–who’d just been murdered. Then the police started coming over, asking questions. They contacted just about everyone who’d ever known us. They searched the house."

"What did they find?" he asked, pushing his plate away.

"Besides the fact that I was exchanging love letters with a boy my father had forbidden me to associate with, and I had just bought my first pair of sexy underwear?" She laughed. "Nothing."

Caleb’s lips curved in a sympathetic smile. "They exposed all your girlish secrets, huh?"

"To this day I stay away from airports just in case security decides to rifle through my bags."

She’d meant her comments to sound flip but was afraid they didn’t come across that way when Caleb remained serious. "So what do you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

"You probably knew your father as well as anyone." She could suddenly feel the depth of his focus, which seemed at odds with his casual pose. "Did he do it?"

She’d faced this question before, dozens of times. And she’d always had a ready, if passionate, answer. But that was before. Should she tell him what she’d believed throughout the investigation? Or should she admit that she might’ve been wrong all along?

She’d opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t know what to think when the telephone interrupted.

"Excuse me," she said, and picked up the handset.

"Good news," Annette announced from the other end of the line, her voice cheerful.

"What’s that?" Madison glanced down the hall toward Brianna’s room, feeling as though she could use some good news at the moment.

"I’ve decided to sell the house."

"What?"

"I’m ready to move. I know it’s taken me a while to come to this, but it’s time."

A vision of her mother stumbling upon the shoes and underwear–and that locket and rope–flashed through Madison’s mind. "There’s no hurry, Mom," she said, turning away from Caleb. "Why don’t you wait until spring?"

"Because I don’t want to spend another Christmas here without Ellis. Do you think you can sell this house inside a couple of months?"

"I–I’m not sure."

"If not, maybe I’ll rent it out. Now that I’ve made my decision, the memories are crowding so close."

"I understand. But…"

"But what?"

Madison looked at Caleb, wishing for the second time that she hadn’t shared so many personal details with him. There was still a great deal to protect. She had to be more careful. "Don’t start packing yet," she said.

"Why not?"

She groped for something that would sound logical. "Wait until I can help you."

"You’re so busy. You just worry about getting this place sold. I’ll have Toby next door help me."

"When?" Madison asked, her panic rising.

"He said he could do it the weekend following next."

The weekend following next…

She needed to move that box. And she needed to do it sometime in the next two weeks.

CALEB CURSED the untimely interruption of the telephone. He’d just had Madison talking to him about her father. She’d been open and warm, completely the opposite of what he’d expected her to be.

And then her mother had called.

He helped himself to another pancake and took his time eating, hoping they could return to their conversation as soon as Madison hung up. But when she got off the phone, she looked upset.

"How’s your mother?" he asked, setting his napkin next to his plate as he finished.

"Fine."

"Does she live close?"

She gathered up the dishes. "Just beyond the university, for the time being."

"For the time being?"

She ran hot water in the sink. "She’s talking about moving."

"Does that upset you?"

Madison glanced over at him and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a wariness entered her eyes that hadn’t been nearly as pronounced when they were talking earlier. "No, why?"

"You seem a little tense, that’s all."

"I’m the one who’s been telling her to move," she said. "It’s tough to stay in the same house where everything went so wrong." Suddenly, she turned off the water. "Will you excuse me, please?"

"Of course."

She disappeared down the hall and, after a moment, he could hear her talking in a soft voice to her daughter. "Do you understand why I wasn’t happy with what you said at the table, Bri?…Do you think you could try a little harder to remember your manners?…Okay, come give Mommy a hug…. I know things haven’t been easy lately, princess, but they’ll get better…. Are you ready to eat?"

Caleb felt he should probably leave. There were several people he still needed to interview. And he wanted to talk to Jennifer Allred, the woman Holly had met last night, just to see if he could jog her memory for details. But the odd change that had come over Madison made him believe there was more to that phone call with her mother than she was saying, and he hoped to figure it out before he left.

"Breakfast was great," he said when she came back into the kitchen holding Brianna’s hand.

"Thanks," she responded. "Have you always had someone cook and clean for you?"

He almost admitted that he hadn’t, but he wanted to make it sound as though this type of arrangement wasn’t anything new, so she’d relax around him even more. "Occasionally."

"Must be nice."

Brianna glowered at him, still sulky, as he carried the cream and sugar to the counter, searching for an excuse to linger. It was the weekend. He could probably spend more time with Madison if only he could think of something menial to do for her. He could fix something, wash her car, mow the grass–

The overgrown grass. Perfect.

"Any chance you’d like to work in the yard this afternoon?" he asked. "I’ve got a few hours. I thought I could mow the lawn and maybe trim some of the bushes while you and Brianna handled the weeds."

Madison set the frying pan in the soapy water and let her hands dangle in the sink. "Really?"

When he heard the gratitude in her voice, he felt less than an inch tall. But he had to stay focused, had to make this work. "If you don’t mind my help."

She shook her head. "I don’t mind at all. I’ll even take some money off your rent, or trade you a couple of meals. I’m falling behind out there. My business takes every extra minute. I just lost my top agent and I’ve been trying to find someone to replace her. And my office manager doubles as typist for the agents, but she’s a much better typist than she is a manager."