"Holly and I met Margie," Caleb said, scratching his bare chest with one hand while filling the coffeepot with the other. "She seemed pretty straight up, but--"
"Whether she's straight up or not, handwriting samples and maybe fingerprints should tell us whether the note is really from Tye," Gibbons interjected.
Caleb set the coffeepot on the counter. "But a note from Tye doesn't make sense. I thought you just said his blood type doesn't match the blood found on the sheet. Yet suddenly we have proof that he and Susan knew each other?"
"I'm as confused as you are."
Something didn't feel right. Caleb shook his head.
"You wanna meet me at Margie's house?" Gibbons asked.
Caleb changed the phone to his left hand so he could button his jeans with his right. "Are you asking me to come? When you found Susan's car, I had to twist your arm to let me join you."
"Yeah, well, you know I'm not supposed to bring civilians. An ex-cop is one thing. Holly's another. But Holly claims this woman won't talk to me tonight unless you're there. And I'd really like things to be easy for a change. If Tye is our killer, we've got to close in before he runs or hurts someone else."
"Why won't Margie talk to you without me?" Caleb asked. That didn't sound right, either. He'd only met her once, and they hadn't spoken since then.
"Who knows? Holly said Margie trusts you because she's met you before. I told her Margie shouldn't have any problem trusting me, but she repeated that she'd promised Margie you'd be there. You know how a woman thinks. If telling you once is good, repeating it fifty times is better, even if it doesn't make sense from the get-go."
"Where's Holly now?" Caleb asked.
"At home. She wanted to come, too, but I told her there was no way, not after the kind of behavior she exhibited at Lance Perkin's the other night."
"Did she give up?"
"Yeah. She said she'd stay out of it so long as you're going to be there. And believe me, I'd much rather have you present than her."
"Thanks, but I'm not dumb enough to believe that's much of a compliment," Caleb said dryly.
Gibbons chuckled. "We'll get this woman's statement and the note. That's it. If I need to arrest Tye, I'll take a couple of uniforms. When we questioned him today he nearly went ballistic."
"This note doesn't add up," Caleb muttered again.
"I've got to check it out whether it adds up or not," Gibbons said. "Are you coming?"
"I'm on my way." Lord knows he wasn't going to be able to sleep anymore tonight.
MADISON EXAMINED the sketch she'd just finished of Caleb's chest and shoulders, and scowled in frustration. His sculpted body easily lent itself to an artist's pencil. So did the raw-boned beauty of his face. But she'd been drawing for more than two hours and simply couldn't match the vision of him she held in her head.
She was still such an amateur, she thought in disgust, and dropped her pencil. But she'd drawn Caleb's mouth earlier, and felt she'd done a better job there. That sketch sat on the table at her elbow, tempting her eye again and again because his lips looked almost as sensual on paper as they did in real life. Almost. With Caleb, it was pretty tough to compete with reality.
Why she continued to torture herself by sketching him, Madison didn't know. She had so much work she needed to do. But drawing was the only thing that kept her from thinking too much about Tye and whether or not he'd be going to prison--or facing an even worse punishment.
Tomorrow would probably tell....
Pushing away from the table, she stood and stretched. She'd stayed up far too late. Her life might be in upheaval, but responsibilities didn't disappear. Tomorrow was Monday. Brianna had school, and Madison had to work. She'd checked earlier and already knew her voice mail was loaded with messages. Which was good. If business didn't pick up soon, she'd have a lot more to worry about than Tye getting arrested, or moving on without Caleb in her life.
Gathering her pads and pencils, Madison piled them neatly on the counter. Then she lingered in the kitchen, wiping off the faucet, cleaning the microwave and watering her plants, dreading the moment she actually had to call it a night. Everything seemed so quiet, so still, like the calm before a storm.
When she ran out of things to do, she started down the hall. But the crunch of tires on gravel outside drew her back. She'd heard Caleb leave about twenty minutes ago. She couldn't help hoping he was back. She liked knowing he was around.
Or maybe it was someone dropping off Johnny....
Standing to the side of the window, Madison watched a tall blond woman climb out of a familiar white Honda.
It wasn't Caleb or Johnny. It was Holly.
HOLLY SMILED WHEN Madison passed the window on her way to the door. She hadn't even had a chance to knock. Obviously Madison wasn't afraid of her. Not that Holly had expected her to be. Women weren't typically afraid of other women. Even during the media blitz following the other murders, Holly had never had trouble getting young women, complete strangers, to meet her somewhere or even come to her apartment. She'd bumped into Tatiana Harris at the grocery store and, simply by striking up a conversation and laughing at the stupid little comments Tatiana made about her husband, had talked her into going to a movie with her instead of straight home. Rosey Martin had gone home with her from the Laundromat to watch a video. Lori Schiller had agreed to meet her at a park. And there were others, including Anna Tyler, who'd lived next door.
Want to come over? We can do makeovers...manicures...have a drink...grab a bite to eat....
Women were so gullible--and catty and deceitful. They pretended to be your friend only to stab you in the back the moment you confided in them. Just like Rosie Wheeler and Paige Todd had done to her in high school.
Holly winced at the memory of the morning she'd shown up at school to find Baby Killer and Whore written in nail polish across her locker. She could still hear the whispers and muffled laughter, still feel the scorn that had nearly smothered her for months afterward. The other girls wouldn't include her, or even speak to her. But she'd show them.
She'd show Madison, too. Madison wouldn't take away the one person who made her feel complete. She hadn't felt the same anger when she believed Caleb loved her, hadn't bothered anyone the whole time they were married. There wasn't any reason to. When she had Caleb she had what all the other girls wanted and could simply laugh in their faces.
But if she was going to hang on to Caleb, she had to move fast. He wouldn't stay gone forever.
She reached the front step and heard the scrape of the deadbolt as Madison unlocked the door. "Is something wrong, Holly?" she asked, opening it slightly.