Tell Me Lies (21 page)

“How dangerous are these?” she asked. “I mean, if I took too many. Say seven.”

The pharmacist gave her a lecture on abusing prescription drugs and then told her that seven probably wouldn’t hurt anyone permanently. “They would impair judgment and probably cause unconsciousness.” He looked at her sternly. “Exceeding the recommended dosage is a very bad idea.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maddie said, and let go of the fear that she was a murderer; as far as she was concerned, Brent’s judgment had always been impaired and he probably needed the sleep anyway. She asked for a refill, which the pharmacist gave her, scowling with suspicion, and then she went home to finish cleaning Brent out of her life. “While you were sleeping,” she could tell him, “you moved.”

She put the last of his things—including his golf bag with the money—in the garage. Whatever he needed to get to Rio, he could pick up in the garage.

While she was closing the garage door, a car drove up.

It was a late-model Ford, and Maddie had never seen the woman who got out before. She was sharp-eyed but pleasant-looking, and she was a redhead, so she wasn’t Brent’s latest, but Maddie braced herself anyway, waiting for the worst. This was one of Brent’s ex-lovers. This was somebody Brent had cheated. This was C.L.‘s secret wife. She winced on the last one and tried to be calm as the woman came up to her.

“You closing up a garage sale?” the woman asked.

Maddie blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“It’s Sunday,” the woman said. “People close up garage sales cheap on Sunday.” She took a step back and looked around. “I thought you might be having one. I guess not. Sorry.”

“A garage sale,” Maddie heard herself say. She yanked the garage door up again. “Sure. It’s just men’s clothes. And some sports stuff.” She remembered the money and said, “But not the golf clubs.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “What size clothes?”

It was probably wrong to sell Brent’s stuff to a total stranger, but he should have thought of her before he’d cleaned out their checking and savings accounts. She had to sell his stuff. She was out of money.

“Mostly extra large,” Maddie said. “Make me an offer.”

Ten minutes later, the woman drove off with a great deal on everything but Brent’s golf clubs, and Maddie went back upstairs. She moved her clothes over to fill up the closet and tossed some of her underwear and sweaters in the empty drawers. When she was done, she’d reclaimed the entire room as hers.

She should have felt guilty, but she didn’t. She felt free. She looked around it and thought,
I hate this place. I have to get out of here. It’s ugly.

The peach quilted headboard was especially ugly. Brent had picked it out. It should go, too.

Maddie got a screwdriver, unscrewed the brackets at the bottom, and pulled the headboard free. Then she dragged it down the stairs and threw it in the garage.

Gloria Meyer came out to watch her. “Is that
your bed?”

“Spring cleaning.” Maddie looked at Gloria and thought,
Vampire, huh?
and went back inside to do battle with whatever came after her next.

“Seven-day week?” C.L. said when Howie came down to open the door, looking the same solid, steady guy he’d been in high school, with less hair.

“Just the man I wanted to see.” Howie waved him in.

“I was looking for Brent,” C.L. began, and Howie said, “He’s gone to ground somewhere. Forget him. I want you to look at our books.”

“You’re kidding.” C.L. followed him into his office. “I’ve been hunting for Brent for three days trying to get permission to do just that.”

Howie’s computer was on, and his desk was slathered in printouts. “He wouldn’t have given it to you.” Howie motioned him to a chair and sat down in front of his computer. “He was embezzling. I know he was, I just can’t find it.”

“Sheila was right then.” C.L. pulled his chair closer to the computer. “She always did know money. What have you got?”

“A mess,” Howie said. “Brent handled the sales and the books, and I did the plans and the construction. It worked great until about a year ago when we started selling more houses and making less money.”

“Ouch,” C.L. said.

Howie nodded. “Then Dottie Wylie started complaining. She’s selling the house we built for her last year. I thought Brent had underbid it, which wasn’t like him. He always wanted the bids jacked up. That house was worth two hundred easy, and he bid it at one eighty.”

C.L.‘s eyes narrowed. “So why’s Dottie complaining?”

“She says she’s taking a loss on the house. And she’s asking two ten. I went over and talked to her, and she showed me the paperwork to prove it.” Howie looked tired. “She paid two twenty.”

“Brent took the other forty thousand,” C.L. said. “Jesus, he was screwing everybody.”

“And the whole town knows it, thanks to Dottie.” Howie rubbed his forehead.

C.L. frowned. “If that was the case, why the hell did Stan buy in?”

“Buy in what?” Howie said.

“The company,” C.L. said. “Stan bought half of Brent’s half for two hundred and eighty thousand, and Sheila’s having a fit.”

The look on Howie’s face told C.L. this was all news to him. “Brent doesn’t have half,” Howie said. “He has a quarter. So do I. Treva and Maddie have the other two quarters.”

“He sold out completely?” C.L. said, and Howie met his eyes.

“He’s gone then.” Howie settled back. “He’s sold out, which he can’t do without offering the three of us first refusal, so the whole deal is illegal.” He shook his head. “What does Maddie think about all this?”

C.L. slumped down a little in his chair. “Hard to tell. I’m not even sure she knows about it. She thinks he’s leaving because there’s another woman, but there’s more to it than that. She’s still protecting him.” C.L. stopped there because that part hurt. “She doesn’t want us watching his safe-deposit box or trying to stop him from leaving.”

“Can’t blame her there,” Howie said. “If I was married to Brent, I’d want him gone, too. Dumb bastard. He was talking the other night about how much he hated Frog Point and being Brent Faraday and running for mayor. Looks like he finally did something about it.”

C.L. tried not to grin at the news. Em was safe, Maddie was free, and he was coming home to both of them. “Good for Brent. The dumb bastard finally did something I like.”

“Well, I’m not happy about it.” Howie sighed and then jerked his thumb at the numbers on his computer screen. “I hear you’re an accountant. I could use an accountant.”

“Now, there’s a coincidence,” C.L. said. “I could use a house.”

Howie blinked at him. “Here? In Frog Point?”

“Yeah,” C.L. said. “Surprised me, too. Let me use your phone to tell Sheila that Stan just got taken for a ride, and then we’ll work something out.”

“I don’t know if Daddy’s going to be home tonight,” Maddie said. “Why don’t we wait until—”

“
I want to come home,”
Em said, and Maddie said, “I’ll be out in an hour. Hang on.”

Okay, Em needed to be home, so she’d come home. But she needed to be safe, too. C.L. could keep her safe, but he couldn’t stay the night. If he couldn’t stay the night, Maddie wasn’t sure she could keep her safe, even with the police out front.

Her head hurt.

While she was struggling with her options, the phone rang.

“Maddie?” Treva said. “You had a prowler last night?”

“How did—”

“Howie ran into C.L. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Maddie checked her reflection in the vanity mirror. She wasn’t fine. If anything, her bruise looked worse, the purple seeping into dirty yellow around the edges. “I look like hell, but I’m fine.”

“Howie said C.L. is worried about you. He said he’s serious about you.”

“Forget C.L.,” Maddie said. “I have a problem. I think Brent might be going to try to take Em.”

“Take her?” Treva’s voice was shocked. “Kidnap her?”

“Things are bad here,” Maddie said. “I just have to keep her safe one more night. I took her out to the Henley farm last night, but she won’t stay out there anymore. She hasn’t seen Brent since day before yesterday. She’s scared.” Maddie’s voice shook on the last word. “So am I.”

“We’ll come over,” Treva said. “All of us. He can’t take her if there’s a crowd there.”

“You can’t stay all night,” Maddie said. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, we can stay until we figure out what to do,” Treva said. “Are you going out to get her now? We’ll meet you when you get home. We’ll tell the kids we’re having a pizza party. They’ll buy it.”

Maddie leaned against the wall, reprieved again for a few hours. “I owe you, Treva.”

“No, you don’t,” Treva said, and her voice sounded grim. “You don’t owe me a damn thing. Listen, I called to find out if you wanted any help opening the box from Brent’s office.”

The box of letters. Kristie’s baby. “I don’t care anymore,” Maddie said, trying to sound uninterested so Treva wouldn’t get curious. “I think I’ll just pitch the whole thing.”

“Better not. There might be something in there the company needs. I’ll come get it and see if I can open it.”

Maddie frowned. “I’ll just give it to you tonight. That’ll be easier. It’s no big deal, Treva.”

“Fine,” Treva said. “And don’t worry about that box. There’s probably nothing in it.”

“Right.” Maddie hung up and thought,
What does Treva think is in that box?

Treva had a key to the house. And she’d known about the prowler. Why would C.L. be talking to Howie today? He’d sounded like he’d be making a beeline from her to Henry. If he hadn’t told Howie, how did Treva know about the prowler? Unless she’d been the prowler. She hadn’t even asked if anything was taken.

No. Maddie shook her head as she got up. She was getting paranoid. Treva was her best friend. C.L. was protecting her. Next she’d suspect her mother.
Forget it and order dinner,
she told herself, and called in an order for three large pizzas, two deluxe and one vegetarian, to be delivered at eight.

She went out to drive back to the farm and closed the garage door before Mrs. Crosby noticed how slovenly she’d been, stacking boxes in her garage and leaving them there for the whole street to see. Twilight seeped in, and somebody pulled up in front of the house in a pickup.

When the driver got out and started up the drive, she recognized Stan Sawyer.

It wasn’t Brent. Nothing else mattered, as long as it wasn’t Brent.

“Maddie?”

“Hi, Stan.” Maddie tried to sound as cordial as she could, but her voice must have communicated
What the hell do you want?
because he stopped and stood there, shifting his rangy body from foot to foot. “Uh, is Brent around?”

“No,” Maddie said. “Can I have him call you when he gets home?”

“He was supposed to meet with me yesterday morning, but he never showed. I need to talk to him real soon.
Real soon.”
Stan came closer, and Maddie began to feel uneasy, which was stupid. She was in Frog Point. He couldn’t hurt her; the whole block was watching. “You sure he’s not here?”

“Howie’s coming over any minute,” Maddie offered. “He probably knows anything Brent knows.”

“No.” Stan edged a little closer. “I think Brent’s up to no good. I think he’s running away.”

So do I,
she thought,
but I don’t want to hear it from you.
“I don’t know anything about it.” Maddie turned toward the house.

He grabbed her arm. “You gotta hear this. He’s got my money.”

She tried to pull away, but he held on, jerking her elbow up to her shoulder to hold her. “You’re in as much trouble as he is,” Stan said, and then they were blinded by the lights of a car turning in the drive.

“This better be Brent,” Stan said.

The car stopped, the lights dimmed, and C.L. got out. “Let go of her,” he said, coming toward them, his face grim.

“This is between me and the Faradays.”

“Let go of her.”

Maddie tried to pull away from Stan, but he held on to her arm. C.L. looked like murder, like she’d never seen him. “Wait a minute, C.L.—”

Stan ignored her and spoke straight to C.L. “You’re the one who started all this, coming back here. Butt out and let me finish it.” Stan let go of Maddie, and she stumbled back a little as he stepped forward. “If I’d known Sh—”

C.L. swung at Stan, and Maddie winced at the sound of knuckles clumsily hitting flesh. Stan lost his balance and went down on the creosote, landing on his butt, swearing.

“Don’t touch Maddie,” C.L. said. “Ever.”

Mrs. Crosby came out on her porch. “Maddie,” she yelled. “What’s going on?”

“What are you doing?” Maddie said to C.L. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Maddie?” Mrs. Crosby bellowed again.

“It’s nothing, Mrs. Crosby,” Maddie yelled over to her. “Stan just lost his balance. We’re fine.”

Mrs. Crosby didn’t move.

C.L. nursed his hand without looking at her. “Go in the house, Maddie.” He nodded to Stan. “C’mon. You’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Let’s go.”

“No.” Maddie pushed in front of him. “Absolutely not. What’s wrong with you guys? You’re not sixteen anymore. Stop this.”

C.L. tried to move her to one side. “Maddie—”

“No.” She turned to C.L. “No more hitting.”

He stood rigid for a moment, and then she felt his body relax, and he put his arms around her and gathered her in close. She thought,
Mrs. Crosby should love this,
but she almost didn’t care, it felt so good to have him touch her again.

C.L. sighed. “Okay. You’re right. This is dumb.” He looked at Stan on the ground. “I’m sorry. Just don’t lean on Maddie anymore. She doesn’t know anything about anything.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Stan eased himself up to a sitting position and felt his jaw for a moment. Evidently nothing was broken, because he rested his arms on his knees and laughed. “You and Maddie. Brent know about this?”

C.L. glared at him, and Maddie tightened her hold on him just in case he had any more brilliant ideas about hitting people in the middle of the street.

“You want your teeth?” C.L. said to Stan.

Stan laughed again. “This is a good one.” He got up and brushed himself off. “God, does Brent deserve this.” He grinned at C.L. “Hell, C.L. I don’t have to hit you. Brent’ll do it for me. He’ll kill you. Both of you.

“Wait a minute, you don’t underst—” Maddie began, but C.L. overrode her.

“Looking forward to that, are you?” he asked Stan, but there wasn’t any animosity in his voice.

Maddie glanced up at him. All the rage was gone, like magic. If it hadn’t been so frightening, it would have been amazing.

Stan shook his head. “God, this is gonna be good. Wait till I tell Sheila.” He walked down the drive, still laughing.

“I should have hit him harder.” C.L. watched him go. “In the old days, he wouldn’t have been able to talk.”

Oh, great. So now it was the good old days. She glared up at him and moved away, hating how the warmth went when she wasn’t close to him. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I’m not real sure. It’s probably got something to do with him marrying my ex-wife.” C.L. slung his arm around her shoulders again and turned toward the house, bringing her with him. “I doubt Sheila’s told him I’m a real good guy.”

“Maddie?” Mrs. Crosby called again.

“Good night, Mrs. Crosby,” Maddie called back, and then she shook her head at C.L. even as she leaned closer to him. “It was something about Brent. And what did he mean, you started it? And what did you mean, I don’t know anything about anything?”

“I don’t know, Mad.” C.L. looked sober in the twilight. “There’s something wrong out at the company, and it’s not good. A lot of people want to see your husband, and they’re not happy.”

“What did Stan mean when he said you started it?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. “So, you got anything to eat in there? Hitting people makes me hungry.”

He pulled her toward the back door, and she went with him up the back walk to continue the conversation. “This is not over,” she said.

“Don’t I know it,” C.L. said, and held the kitchen door open for her.