Tell Me Lies (28 page)

Read Tell Me Lies Online

Authors: Jennifer Crusie

Tags: #Fiction, #Humorous, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary

BOOK: Tell Me Lies
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“I don’t want to hear this,” Maddie said, hugging herself. “I have all I can handle right now. Don’t give me any more. Don’t make me handle this, too.”

“I love you,” he said, and she said, “No, you don’t, you love somebody you think you knew in high school. That’s not me. I don’t think it ever was me, but it’s definitely not me now.”

“I know who you are,” C.L. said, quiet and intense. “I know exactly who you are.”

“Then you know more than I do,” Maddie said, “because all I know right now is that I have a baby who’s heartbroken, and I have to stay out of jail to take care of her. And every time you walk into my living room, you remind Frog Point that I had a reason to kill my husband.” Maddie stepped back. “You have to stay away. Forever.”

C.L. sighed. “All right. If you need me to keep my distance for a while, I understand. But don’t make it forever.” He stepped toward her and put his arms around her, and she hesitated. “Don’t do this to me again,” he whispered. “Don’t turn away from me. I need to know you’re still mine.” He kissed her hard, desperately, and she tried not to kiss him back. Then he just held her, his cheek against her hair, as if she were his lifeline.

If I come to your locker, will you turn away?
he’d asked her that night in the car, and Maddie ached to tell him she loved him, but Em came first. “C.L., I’m not who I was in high school. I’m not even who I was yesterday. I can’t see you anymore. I have to keep Em safe now, and the talk— I can’t see you.”

He said, “For a while,” and held her tighter. “I’ll stay away for Em’s sake. But only for a while.”

Maddie knew she should argue, but she didn’t have the energy. When he was gone, she went inside and locked and chained the door and crawled in bed with Em and Phoebe, regretting having sent him away even while she knew that she had to. Em stirred beside her and said, “Mommy?” and she said, “Right here, Emmy. It’s just us,” and held Em’s hand until she fell back asleep.

“How are you?” Treva asked when she picked Maddie up the next morning to do funeral arrangements. “I mean, really.”

“Tired,” Maddie said.
Last night I sent away the second best thing that ever happened to me so I could protect the first best thing.
“My life is full of people I have to be careful around. You’re the only person I don’t have to pretend in front of. You’re a good friend, Treva.”

Treva sighed. “I try, kid. Which means I get to give you the bad news.”

Maddie looked at her in disbelief. “That’s a joke, right? How much worse can things get?”

Treva slid down in her seat. “You are now the hottest thing on the Frog Point grapevine. You want to know about this or not?”

“Oh, hell.” Maddie shut her eyes. “Tell me.”

Fourteen

 

Treva took a deep breath. “Well, most think you shot your husband, but opinion is divided as to whether or not you should pay for it. The majority think it was a shame that Brent hit you and cheated on you, and that you should get off, you being such a nice person up to now and all.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Maddie let her head rest against the back of the seat.

“However, there is a small but vocal contingent led by Helena Faraday in cahoots with Gloria Meyer. They think you should fry. They’re gaining some support as it becomes known, thanks to Esther, that you were sleeping with C.L. when the word came down that you were a widow. Also Leona Crosby has been keeping tabs on C.L.‘s Mustang. Couldn’t he drive a quieter-looking car?”

“Not C.L.”

“Then there are the fringe theorists.” Treva’s voice got a little cheerier. “There’s healthy speculation that Stan and C.L. were fighting over you in your driveway Saturday night. Did that happen, or has Kellie Crosby been hitting the cough syrup again?”

“C.L. hit him while Leona Crosby watched,” Maddie said. “The rest is cough syrup.”

“Well, that’s made some people think C.L. might have killed him. Except he was shot, not beaten up, so that leads people back to you again.”

“Good,” Maddie said. “Dear God, my poor mother.”

“Your mother’s holding her own,” Treva said. “She’s said some cutting things about Esther’s reliability, and since she and Esther have been tighter than ticks up till now, she’s making some headway. And she’s up to speed on the Faradays, too. Helena’s in for a bumpy ride.”

Maddie straightened. “Don’t tell me this.”

“Did you really have to hospitalize Helena once for drinking cologne?”

“Oh,
Mother.”
Maddie put her face in her hands. “The only thing I can do now is move, and Henry won’t let me leave town.”

“I’ve also heard rumors that Henry is out to get you because of C.L.,” Treva said. “But that doesn’t sound like Henry.”

“You know, what makes me nuts is that none of these rumors are about Brent,” Maddie said. “He cheats on me and embezzles, but nobody knows anything about that. How can that be?”

“Oh, there are rumors,” Treva said. “He was embezzling from the company, he was dealing drugs to get the money to buy votes for mayor, he cheated on his bowling scores—Brent’s doing just fine. I have not heard that he was cheating on you, however. Either Brent finally got some discretion, or his honey is the invisible woman.” Treva peered at her. “How are you with all this?”

“Lousy,” Maddie said. “Mourning is the pits. People have been dropping food off all morning. If I see one more damn casserole, I’m going to spit.”

“Mine’s in the backseat,” Treva said, starting the car.

Maddie focused on the one problem in her life that wasn’t heartbreaking. “There must be a real potato chip shortage in town, too. What’s wrong with bread crumbs on top of casseroles?”

Treva checked the street and pulled out into her lane. “You must have been reading those fascist yuppie Democrat cookbooks again.”

“For that matter, what’s wrong with naked casseroles? For that matter, what’s wrong with unchopped food?”

“We appear to be losing our grip here.”

“Okay,” Maddie sighed. “What kind of casserole did you make? Manicotti, right?”

“I was kidding. It’s fudge brownies with chocolate chips and cashews.”

“God sent you to be my friend,” Maddie said, “because She knew I needed you.”

Six brownies later, they pulled into the funeral home driveway. Maddie looked up at the beautiful old Victorian and said, “Why are all the best old houses in town funeral parlors?”

“Because Frog Point won’t let anybody open a whorehouse.” Treva looked at the house doubtfully. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I am never going to be ready for this,” Maddie said, and got out of the car.

The little man at the funeral home was oily and dry at once, like old parchment.

“The undead,” Treva whispered. “They walk.”

“Shut up,” Maddie said.

He looked at them with a mixture of condescension and consolation and led them to a large room full of caskets. “Here’s our selection. All fine, fine pieces. I’m sure you’ll be pleased, and that your, ah, husband would be also.”

Maddie looked at him, appalled. Yeah, Brent would be thrilled.

“Could we be alone for a while?” Treva asked.

“Of course.” He nodded and faded out the door while Maddie looked at the caskets helplessly. There were so many and they all looked like bad reproduction coffee tables, too much wood and brass. Too much everything. She started to shake and thought,
Not in front of Em,
and then realized that Em wasn’t there.

She had to pull herself together and buy a casket and get back to Em. “What do you think?” she asked Treva.

“Get a Hefty bag,” Treva said. “That’s all he deserves.”

Brent in a Hefty bag. For some reason, that was the thought that did it; Maddie began to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Maddie, I’m sorry.” Treva sat her down on the nearest casket. “Here.” She groped in her purse. “Have a Kleenex. I thought you didn’t love him.”

“I didn’t,” Maddie sobbed, grateful at last to be crying for him. “But the son of a bitch is dead.”

Treva sat down and put her arm around her. “Maddie, the man slept with other women, he beat you up, and he was going to desert you.” She patted Maddie on the shoulder. “Pull yourself together. The man was roadkill. A Hefty bag is too good. We’ll get a generic leaf bag.”

Maddie looked around the grim room and almost lost it again. “Treva, I can’t handle this. I’m not ready for funerals.”

“I suppose Howie and I could clean out the freezer chest till you’re ready,” Treva said dubiously, “but I really think it’s better to get it over with.”

“Um. Mrs. Faraday?”

Maddie and Treva both jumped and then turned to look at the little man who had crept up behind them.

“Have you made your choice? Can I, ah, help in any way?” He looked pointedly at their choice of seating.

They stood up, and Maddie looked from him to Treva and back again to him. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Treva said. “What’s the cheapest thing you’ve got?”

When Treva dropped Maddie off after stops at the florist, church, funeral home, and stationers, her mother told her in a voice two steps away from panic that she was wanted at the police station.

Henry was waiting for her, but so were C.L. and a pleasant-faced middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Jane Henries. “I’m just standing in until Mr. Sturgis can get somebody tougher from Columbus,” she said cheerfully. “Now, if you ever want to divorce anybody, you can just stick with me all the way through.”

Maddie felt like flinging herself into Jane’s arms. She was the first person who seemed to think everything was going to be fine. Then she noticed the lines around Jane’s mouth and the glint in her eyes, and realized that around Jane Henries, everything was going to be fine
or else.

“Now, Maddie,” Henry told her when they were all sitting down. “I want you to know we’re all on your side. This town knows what a good person you are, and even if we go to trial with you as defendant, they’ll be understanding.”

“They’ll be a lot more understanding when she doesn’t go to trial,” Jane said.

Henry ignored her. “So I want you to know that if you’ve got anything to tell me, I’ll listen and understand.”

“She doesn’t have anything to tell you,” Jane said. “Can we go?”

“Well, I have a few things to tell her,” Henry said, exasperated. “And since you’re her attorney, you’d better listen, too.”

Jane smiled serenely at him, and Maddie relaxed. C.L. had been right. She needed a lawyer.

Henry ticked off his points on his fingers. “First, you have motive. By your own admission, your husband was cheating on you; by Howie Bassett’s evidence, he was embezzling from a company you owned one quarter of; and by your admission, he was going to take your little girl from you.”

“From what I’ve heard about Brent Faraday,” Jane said to nobody in particular, “half the people in this town had motive.”

“Plus you told John Webster at the bank you were guilty,” Henry went on.

“I did not,” Maddie said, stung into speaking.

“According to him, you told him that he should leave you alone with the box because you didn’t want to incriminate him.”

Maddie looked at him, amazed. “I what?”

“He said your words were that you didn’t want to drag him down with you.”

Maddie closed her eyes. “That was a joke.”

“Never joke with banks or the police,” Jane said, still serene. “They have no sense of humor. That’s evidence of nothing, Sheriff, and you know it.”

“Plus you’ve been hiding evidence,” Henry said.

He found the money
. Maddie tried to look innocent.

“You took a box from your husband’s office and didn’t tell me about it. Why?”

“Oh, hell,” Maddie said. “I forgot about it. Jane told me to get financial evidence, so Treva and I took it when we couldn’t open it there.”

“I did tell her to gather up everything she could find,” Jane said. “Her action was on the advice of her attorney.”

“I’m going to need that box,” Henry said, and Maddie slumped back in her chair and nodded.

“Then there’s your suspicious behavior,” Henry went on, and Maddie thought of C.L. and winced. “Why didn’t you report your husband missing? He was killed Friday night and not found until Monday morning. You never reported him missing. And then there’s Mrs. Ivory Blanchard.”

Maddie blinked. “Who?”

“You sold her all of your husband’s clothes. That might lead some people to think you knew he wasn’t coming back.”

“I was hoping he wasn’t,” Maddie said, and Jane stirred beside her. “I’d found the plane tickets to Rio. I was hoping he was on his way. Henry, none of this makes sense. You’re saying I shot my husband who was leaving me anyway? Why? And how? I’d have had to drive Brent up to the Point and put a gun to his head while he just sat there. Henry, we weren’t that close.”

“Which brings me to means,” Henry said. “That’s what comes after motive and opportunity. The reason Brent just sat there was that somebody had doped him good with what the coroner called a generic painkiller. Dr. Walton says he prescribed them for you. The pharmacist at Revco says you asked him what effect seven of them would have. The coroner says he’d probably taken the equivalent of seven tablets.”

“I asked the pharmacist after he’d swallowed them,” Maddie said. “He took them by accident. I know that sounds dumb, but he did.”

“Sheriff,” Jane began, and Henry held up his hand.

“You had motive, means, and opportunity, Maddie,” Henry said. “No alibi.” He sighed, and his voice turned sad and serious. “Maddie, I’ll help you get a plea bargain. And if it goes to trial, we’ll try the case here in Frog Point. Everybody likes you. Everybody knows how Brent was. The town’s on your side.”

Jane stood up. “That’s enough.” She turned to Maddie. “This is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard. He doesn’t have means because he doesn’t have the gun. He doesn’t have motive because none of the things he cited are strong enough to be conclusive. And he doesn’t have opportunity because he can’t place you at the scene on the night of the crime. In short,” she turned to Henry, “he has zilch.”

“I didn’t do it, Henry,” Maddie said.

“Plus she didn’t do it,” Jane finished. “Nice seeing you, gentlemen.”

“Maybe I’ll just forget the guy from Columbus,” C.L. said as he followed them out into the parking lot. “You’re doing pretty good.”

“No, I’m not.” Jane turned to Maddie. “Get a criminal lawyer fast. He’s got some nice circumstantial evidence going there; if he gets anything concrete, you’re toast. He’s not a dumb man, that sheriff.”

Concrete evidence. Maddie thought of the gun in Treva’s freezer. “I didn’t do it,” she said again, but she sounded forlorn, even to her own ears.

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