Looking For Trouble (13 page)

“Go talk to him, John. You're the only one who can reason with him. He'll listen to you,” Slim said.

“I wish I could, but I'm gonna have to leave in a few minutes. I need to take Madeline back to the hotel.”

“What?” Slim said, panicked. “You can't leave. I need your help!” Slim watched as Josie's and Thelma's stares intensified. “If anything goes down, I'm on the hook for it.”

“Sorry, Slim, but I've got to get Madeline back to the room. I might be able to return after I drop her off.”

“Why do you have to take her back? Is something wrong with her?”

Yes! She's mean as a snake and crazy as hell,
he thought, but he couldn't say that aloud. “We're not getting along too well. I just need to take her on back.”

“Women!”

“You can say that again. I had no intention of leaving this early, but she wants to go, so—”

“You stayin' at the Holiday Inn, right?” Slim asked.

“Yeah.”

“I'll make you a deal. I'll take her back to the hotel if you go over and talk to Maxx. I can't afford to have a fight breakin' out. The boss man's gonna hold me responsible for whatever damage is done.”

John wanted to help his friend, but he knew that Madeline would never leave the club without him, especially after the threat she'd leveled. “I'm sorry, Slim, but I have a responsibility, too. I brought Madeline here, so I need to make sure she gets back to the hotel safely.”

Slim looked almost crestfallen as he surveyed the trouble brewing over at the bar and on each side of the room. “John, I'll get your girl back to the hotel, safe and sound. I just need for you to help me out, man.”

Both men were startled when they heard Madeline's voice interrupt their conversation as she walked up on them. “Slim, thank you for being such a gentleman and offering to take me back to the hotel. I'm ready to leave whenever you are.”

John was stunned. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“No, I'm not. You heard me right.”

“You were just complaining and demanding that
I
take you back.”

“I changed my mind,” she said as she gave him a nasty stare.

John was so heated he wanted to hit something. This was the proverbial straw that broke his back. He'd tried to be reasonable beyond measure and had even given in to her unreasonable request, all for the sake of civility. But Madeline's crazy games had pushed him over his limit. “Take her,” he said.

John was through with her now. He didn't even look at Madeline as he headed toward the bar to play peacemaker.

Chapter 17

M
adeline was slowly losing control, sliding down a steep slope. All her well-laid plans were cresting toward a dramatic and disappointing crescendo. Everything she'd worked so hard for was about to crumble—all because she'd left two tiny bottles of prescription drugs back home in her medicine cabinet.

She'd been taking anti-anxiety and psychotropic medications for seven years now. The drugs had helped her tremendously in her struggle to keep her temper in check and her fury-laced mood swings at bay. When people angered her, she no longer lashed out or became violent at the drop of a dime like she used to. Instead, she calmed herself and calculated her strategy in a rational manner before exacting deadly revenge. Yes, she was so much better!

She'd only had a few outbursts in the years since she'd been taking her meds, and those were minor in comparison to the incidents she'd been involved in during her tumultuous past. These days she was able to maintain a lucrative corporate career and enjoy romantic relationships in a manner that would never lead one to believe she was capable of blackmail, fraud, and murder—all of which she had committed in the past.

She never took her medication daily, as was prescribed by her doctors, because they often made her feel sleepy and not her full, vibrant self. But she made sure she kept just enough in her system to function without slipping back into deviant behavior. However, the excitement of traveling to John's hometown and finally getting close to his family and his money had enticed her so much that she'd completely forgotten to take her pills over the last several days.

She'd been in a rush the night before they left town, busy with last-minute packing, and had only gotten a few hours of sleep before they left for the airport the next afternoon. She'd hurried out the door so fast that she once again forgot to take her medication, let alone pack the bottles in her travel bag.

Madeline didn't realize the mistake she'd made until late yesterday afternoon, when she and John were riding in their rental car, about 30 miles outside Nedine. They had stopped at a gas station to fuel up again and grab a quick snack. When she climbed out of the car, she felt slightly unsettled and more than a little annoyed. John was smiling about the beautiful trees and scenic landscape they would pass on their way to town, but she was less than thrilled.

“You'll enjoy seeing God's gift of nature and the special beauty it holds when you look out and see the trees and wide, open pastures,” he'd said.

Little did he know, she didn't give a damn about nature and she had no interest in looking at trees or pastures. But again, she did what she had done all her life and faked it to get what she wanted. Now she was beginning to feel a bad mood coming on and she was close to giving John a piece of her mind.

At first, she thought she was feeling agitated because of the long travel day she'd endured. But when an urge came over her to kick the passenger door while John was pumping gas, she instantly knew what she'd done.
Fuck! I forgot my medicine!
she shouted inside her head.

“What was that?” John asked, peering over the top of the car at Madeline.

“What was what?”

“That bang. It sounded like something hit the side of the car where you're standing. You didn't hear it?” he asked.

Madeline shrugged her shoulders innocently as she put her foot back on the ground. “No, I didn't hear a thing. I think you're just tired. We need to get off the road because you're starting to hear things.”

Once they arrived in Nedine, she was in full-on panic mode, but she knew she needed to be calm. She'd thought about taking a cab to one of the local drugstores in town so she could get her prescriptions filled while John was out earlier today. However, she remembered that she'd forgotten to bring the fake ID for the alias under which her medications were written.

She knew her only hope now was to try and maintain her temper as best she could and pray that the slow-minded hillbillies around her wouldn't piss her off. But it was a battle she was losing because John's parents had already managed to work her last nerve. She didn't like the fact that they were standing between her and John's money, which she planned to make her own. She could tell his attitude toward her was already starting to change.

Nothing was going the way she wanted, and she knew she had to quickly reassess the situation so she could turn around her fate and potential fortune. When she excused herself to go to the restroom in the club, she used that time to splash water on her face, gather her thoughts, and craft a new plan. Getting in good with John's family and even his grandmother was out of the question, so now she had to set her sights on ensnaring John in a different way.

“I got it,” Madeline whispered to herself with a mischievous grin as she exited the crowded ladies' room. “He'll never know what hit him—and even if he does, it'll be too late.”

She walked out and heard John and Slim squabbling about who would drive her back to the hotel. “Perfect,” she whispered under her breath. This was going to be easier than she'd thought. “They're feeding right from my hands.”

She wanted to laugh at the look that clouded John's face when she thanked Slim for being such a gentleman and agreed to leave the club with him. She couldn't get out of there soon enough so she could carry out her plan. And the best part was that she didn't have to look for some poor, unsuspecting victim because goofy-acting Slim had volunteered himself on a silver platter.

 

Madeline and Slim headed on their way out, walking side by side toward the back door through which they'd come. Madeline followed Slim to the far right side of the parking lot, and watched him smile sheepishly as he opened the passenger door to his rusty old Chevy truck. She thought it looked like the first motor vehicle ever made. She had deep reservations about getting inside when she cast her eyes on the tattered front seat.

“I know it ain't a fancy Mustang, but it'll get us to where we need to go,” Slim said.

Madeline didn't want to stand near Slim's raggedy piece of what she barely considered a truck, let alone have to actually ride in it. However, she knew what was at stake, so she sucked up her disdain. She raised her arched eyebrow and gave Slim a wicked smile.

“You all right?” he asked.

Madeline reached over, took Slim's hand into hers, and held it tightly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm feeling great.”

“Uh, well, I reckon that's a good thing, huh?”

“It's a fantastic thing.”

Slim nodded. “All righty, I guess we'll be on our way.”

Madeline slid into Slim's front seat and watched him closely as he walked around to his driver's door. She almost felt sorry for the unsuspecting fool because she knew he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

 

Allene's feet slowly shuffled across her immaculate hardwood floors as she walked back to the comfortable La-Z-Boy recliner that Isaiah had bought her a few years ago. Her heart was filled with joy when she thought about what a good son Isaiah had always been.

When she'd carried him in her womb, she never had a day of morning sickness. When he was born, the midwife who delivered him said it was the smoothest birth she'd ever witnessed. When he was just ten years old, he went to work to help the family after his father died of pneumonia and Allene had been stricken with grief. During those hard years, Isaiah never complained. Instead, he looked for ways to make life more comfortable for the family while toiling in the fields each day. “That boy's always been special,” Allene said aloud. “Just as smart as a whip. He might not have the gift, but he's so wise he's pretty close to it.”

She continued to think about Isaiah as she sank down into the plush chair, and then her mind fell on John. Although she was fairly certain that her grandson had begun to see the light and had discovered his girlfriend for who and what she really was, she knew he still wasn't safe from the clutches of Madeline King.

Allene had wanted to intervene and tell John that Madeline was a world full of trouble, and that he should break up with her before they returned to New York.
Let her walk back home if you have to,
she'd wanted to blurt out when they were sitting on her front porch earlier today. She knew he would have listened to her, because he trusted her, and he knew she would never steer him wrong. But she also knew it was best to keep quiet so he could find out on his own.

Allene had learned long ago that she had to use her gift wisely, and that sometimes knowing the outcome of something could disrupt the journey of getting there. On more than a few occasions, she'd seen how intervening at the wrong time could alter situations in unexpected and sometimes disastrous ways.

Allene closed her eyes and tilted her head back as if talking to the heavens. “Thank you, Lord Jesus, for givin' me the family I have,” she said aloud. “And bless me to help them as best I can.”

Allene took a deep, cleansing breath. Having premonitions was like second nature to her. As she concentrated, with her eyes still closed, a smile came to her lips. The scene appeared to her as clear and as bright as this morning's sun had been. There, in her line of vision, was her great-great-granddaughter, standing before a large crowd. The young woman was speaking passionately, pouring out the desires of her heart.

“That's right, baby. Follow your passion just like your mama did,” Allene whispered. “Speak what's in your heart. Say what it is that you desire, and watch it walk into your life.”

Allene smiled again. “Alexandria,” she whispered into the air. She could see the young woman: tall, slender in build, but curvy in shape, with the kind of posture girls were taught at finishing school. Allene could see that Alexandria was beautiful, with smooth, light caramel-colored skin and eyes that looked as though they could see right through you. “She looks just like her mama,” she said with a nod.

Allene was proud of her great-granddaughter, Victoria. She was grateful she would live long enough to meet her. She smiled wide when she thought about the vision she'd had a few days ago. She'd closed her eyes and saw John bringing little Victoria back to Nedine for visits. Allene's heart leapt with happiness when she saw a pigtailed Victoria happily eating the lemon drops she always kept in her crystal bowl on her living-room coffee table.

She let out a small sigh when she saw the ups and downs Victoria would struggle through. Some of her visions were clear, while others were a bit murky. Allene was glad that she'd contacted Alexandria to set things into motion. Now, not only would Alexandria be able to help herself, she'd be able to help her mother for the trouble that was about to come.

As Allene thought about Victoria's journey, her mind shifted to Alexandria, whom she would never meet in this lifetime, but whom she would come to know through the precious gift they both shared. She reflected on that knowledge in the quiet that surrounded her. She was thankful that Susan Jessup had prepared her for these moments, guiding her with wisdom.

But she had to remember that just as Susan had guided her—and, in turn, Allene had guided Isaiah, and now John—Allene could only show Alexandria the way. The girl would have to walk the path for herself.

“Choose wisely,” Allene whispered, knowing that Alexandria could hear her in another time and place. “The love you want is already waiting for you.”