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Ten

Before leaving Bert Rowe, they’d obtained his alibi, which they were able to verify with the receptionist on the way out. He’d been in the office with her during the time window of the murders.

Madison and Terry stepped out to a wall of white. Snow was falling so heavily, it was hard to see ten feet ahead. It could have been night except for the glow in the sky that hinted at the existence of a sun behind the precipitation. It took them a bit of time to dig out the department car, but it was all warmed up by the time they’d finished.

“I’m curious what the ‘we didn’t see eye to eye’ was about. Did it factor into the murders?” Madison tossed out. “It makes me want to see the Malones’ financials more than ever.”

Terry remained silent.

“I say our next stop is Malone’s, the location where Craig manages,” Madison suggested, looking over to see if her partner was even breathing. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you,” he mumbled. “If we’re going to start poking around, though, we should update Winston.”

“I’m not going to update him every step of the way.”

“You told him you would.”

“I always say that.”

“I’ll text him, then.”

“Do what you have to do,” she pushed out. “We need to find out where Craig went—if he went anywhere. We shouldn’t just take Kimberly’s word on the matter, and she did tell us she can’t reach her brother. He still hasn’t returned my call, either.”

“If we’re going to Malone’s, we have to approach it with discretion.” Terry put finger quotes around the last word and smiled.

She reached out and batted the air near him. “I thought you were seriously giving me a hard time about this.”

“I thought I’d play it up.” He was still smiling.

“Is that what you did in there?” She nudged her head toward the Rowe’s Accounting building in front of them.

“Not really. Sometimes even I get tired of tiptoeing around.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

Terry did up his seat belt. “Just keep in mind, going into Malone’s, that Craig might have been screwed up as a kid, but that doesn’t mean the man is, and very few of us like our parents as teenagers. Craig’s tune could have changed.”

“It could have,” she admitted. “Rowe said his father helped him to avoid juvie. That should have endeared his father to him.”

“Yeah, I’m not seeing a motive yet. What’s your plan of approach at the store?”

“We just tell them we need to tell Craig something. No need to go in guns blazing, even if that could be fun.” She smiled diabolically.

“That could work, but I stand behind what I said a bit ago. We should update Winston.”

“I thought you were ‘playing it up.’”

“Yes and no. But he did say he wanted to be updated on every step of the investigation.”

“Good for the man to want and not always get.” She shrugged. “Something my mother used to say.”

“Well, I’m not a fan.”

“Of my mother?”

“The saying. It’s usually always better to get.”

She agreed, and she’d always hated it when her mother would say the phrase, but when it came to dishing it out in Winston’s direction, it felt right.

“Here’s the thing…” Terry shifted and sat up straighter. “We go to Malone’s, and it’s quite likely going to get back to Winston anyway. We know that Craig liked going to the gun range. Let’s just visit the ones in the area—”

“And what? Hope we strike it lucky that they know where Craig is?” She gestured out the windshield. “Do you see the weather? We can’t afford to be spending our time driving around aimlessly. How do you think Winston would handle that update?” Then a thought struck. “You’re concerned about keeping him up-to-date, but we didn’t tell him we were visiting Rowe.”

Terry winced. “I texted Winston.”

“Ooh, Terry.”

“Hey, I don’t want to get the spray when crap hits the fan. I have too much going on to worry about job security. I have a family to provide for and—”

She looked out her window, trying to calm her temper. She hated it when he pulled out his family as an excuse for playing within the lines, but that was her partner, never wanting to cause waves. It was why Winston had told Terry to keep an eye on her.

“I’ll take the heat if it comes to that,” she assured him. “You have nothing to worry about.”

She navigated the slippery streets cautiously, taking them in the direction of Malone’s.

It took thirty minutes to reach the store, which in good weather would have taken less than fifteen. The parking lot had less than a dozen vehicles in it, and this location served as the company’s main warehouse. The building had a large footprint and was easily fifty thousand square feet.

Inside, Madison was blinded by fluorescent lights and overwhelmed by the sales floor. There was furniture as far as the eye could see: living room sets, dining sets, bedroom sets, electronics. Oversized yellow tags hung from the ceiling advertising that specially tagged items were reduced by forty percent for three days only.

A white-haired man approached her and Terry as they made their way toward the customer counter that was wisely placed in the rear of the store. The trek presented temptation and encouraged impulse purchases. Even those coming in to pay against their credit account with Malone’s risked becoming prey—again.

The salesman smiled at them, the expression lighting his eyes. “Good afternoon.”

Afternoon? She glanced at her phone. 1:31 PM. Wow, time did fly!

“Would Craig Malone be in?” She’d been thinking about the initial approach on the way over and figured it might be best to start from scratch, as if they knew nothing. Really, it wasn’t far from the truth.

The salesman’s face fell, no doubt seeing his commission taking a nosedive. “He’s not—” He stopped talking when Madison flashed her badge. “Is something wrong?” The man looked at Terry, concern creeping into his voice.

“We just need to speak with him,” Terry told the man.

“Well, as I started to tell you, he’s not in.”

“Oh?” Madison packed the one syllable with as much surprise and disappointment as she could. “As my partner said, we just need to speak with him about something. Does he have an assistant we could talk to? Maybe they’d know how we could reach him?”

“Did you try his cell phone?” The salesman was leaning slightly forward, an indication he wanted to help as much as he could.

“We have,” Madison admitted.

“Okay.” The man turned and looked toward the customer service counter. “Follow me.”

He took them to a blond twentysomething who was smacking gum. It seemed to disappear once the salesman told her who Madison and Terry were and that they were looking for Craig.

“Come with me.” The blonde, Emily, as she’d introduced herself, led them to one of the offices positioned behind the counter. “Thanks, Frank.” She closed her office door in the salesman’s face and proceeded to sit behind her desk. “Please, sit.” She pointed to two chairs facing her, and Madison and Terry both did as Emily had asked.

“What can I help you with exactly?” Emily ran the tip of a long, manicured fingernail across her bottom teeth, then dropped her hand. “Is Craig okay?”

“We don’t know,” Madison said.

Emily sat straighter and flung her long, straight hair over her shoulders. “Whatever I can do to help.”

“We understand he went away,” Madison began. “Do you know where?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t tell me, not that I didn’t ask.” Emily blushed, and Madison had a gut feeling.

“Are you two…”

Emily met her gaze and nodded. “For a few months, but it’s nothing serious.”

Her words said one thing, her eyes another. They revealed she was hurt that Craig hadn’t let her know where he was going. With the observation, Madison was stung with guilt. She was harboring a secret from Troy about Leland King and the investigation into corrupt cops. Did the fact she did so for his own safety make any difference?

Madison shook her personal thoughts aside and asked, “Did he have the trip planned a while in advance?”

“No, it was sooo last minute. All he told me was that he had to get away to clear his mind.”

“When did he decide he was going away?” Terry inquired.

“This morning,” Emily said. “He just called in and told me he was taking off for a week.”

“He told you he wanted to clear his mind. Was he under a lot of stress?” Terry asked, holding Emily’s attention.

“He was, but I’m not sure why.” Her voice sounded strained. “There’s nothing particularly stressful going on here these days. Everything is pretty much the same every day,” she stated with a tinge of boredom.

“Any idea why he’d said he needed to clear his mind, then?” Madison pressed.

“None.”

“Does he normally open up to you?” Terry asked.

She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “Our relationship is mostly sexual. We don’t talk much.”

“But your relationship is also professional,” Madison began, “and you are his assistant.”

“I am.”

Terry leaned forward, shifted a desk calendar, and glanced at Madison. The logo at the top was for Bradshaw Gun & Country Club.

“How long is Craig gone for?” he asked.

“Just this week. He’ll be back on Monday.”

Emily pursed her lips.

Madison read the body language. “You’re angry with him?”

“Heck yes.” She crossed her arms, the motion tugging the buttons of her fitted blouse, but then she let her arms fall loose. “When I saw you two, and you wanted to talk to him, I was afraid that you…that you found a body or something and thought it was his.” She paled. “Especially with his sister Kimberly calling and looking for him, too.”

“We’re just trying to reach him with news,” Madison said.

Emily scooped a pen from her desk and leaned forward, poised over a notepad. “I can pass on a message to him, have him call you.”

Madison stiffened. “You’re able to reach him?”

“I haven’t tried to since he left, but I assume…” Emily’s gaze drifted between the two of them. “You tried reaching him on his phone?”

“We did.” Madison pulled out her phone and opened her call history. “Can you just tell me what the number is again, and I’ll double check I have the right one?”

“Sure.” Emily rattled off the number.

“Yeah, that’s the one I have, and I’ve already left a message for him.”

“I can leave one, too, if you’d like.”

“You can. If you reach him, have him call Detective Madison Knight.” She gave Emily her card. Then she and Terry thanked Emily for her help and left the store.

“Guess we know where our next step takes us,” Madison said.

“Bradshaw Gun & Country Club?”

“Direct hit.”