-

Thirty-Three

She’s the most selfish person I know.” Cynthia was gripping her beer bottle so hard that her knuckles were white.

Madison sat across from her, drinking a coffee that was closely comparable to the mud from the bullpen. Stir it with a spoon and hope it comes out intact. They’d already eaten dinner, and the five ounces of steak and a scoop of garlic mashed potatoes were sitting in her gut like a lead ball.

“I’m sure she’ll be back in time for the wedding.” It was a lame offering, and Madison knew it, but she wanted to at least try to cheer up her friend. Madison was prepared to do whatever she could to turn things around between the sisters in time, but she wasn’t a miracle worker, either. Some pretty nasty things had been said.

“I’m not holding my breath.” Cynthia fanned her hair back from her face and adjusted her black frames. “She’s always been so self-absorbed. It’s all about Tammy.”

Was Cynthia jealous at Tammy’s news coming at the time of her wedding? Madison didn’t think Cynthia would be petty like that, but it seemed likely there was something deeper going on that Madison wasn’t privy to.

“Well, tonight, this week, and this weekend are all about you.” Madison gave her friend a smile before she braved another sip of brew.

“Apparently, Tammy didn’t get that memo,” Cynthia sulked.

“Okay, what is it between you two?” Madison leaned across the table, caution be damned. “Has it always been this way for you guys? I sense this goes back much further than tonight.”

“It’s the story of our lives.” Cynthia lifted her beer bottle. “I just wish you’d drink with me.”

Detour tactic, but Madison wasn’t biting. She’d already been through the fact with Cynthia she might be headed back into work and had curtailed her indulgence to a couple of beers. “Just talk to me. Isn’t that what you say to me when something’s weighing on me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Huh. I usually say the same thing, and it doesn’t get me far.”

The friends locked gazes.

“Fine,” Cynthia said. “She’s just…she likes guys too much to be married. Ken is a great man, and he doesn’t deserve the way she treats him.”

Madison remembered Cynthia saying as much to her sister. “So, Tammy’s cheated on him before?” A question to which Madison had an answer, but hopefully it would stir Cynthia to open up more.

“Yeah, and she didn’t see anything wrong with it, either.” Cynthia rocked her bottle and peered inside. She flagged down a waitress and said, “Another.”

The waitress left, and after she returned and dropped off a new bottle, Madison said, “Tough to stand behind that.”

“Right?” Cynthia lifted her beer in a toast gesture then gulped a few chugs. “I figured you’d understand where I’m coming from.”

Cynthia didn’t need to say that she was referring to Madison’s past and her subsequent views on cheating and infidelity.

“I do, but…don’t hurt me.” Madison drew back. “Are you willing to lose your sister over how she lives her life?” There was no easy way to ask.

“She’s just so rude.”

It was best Madison stay quiet. Silence was really a response, too. She certainly wasn’t going to point out that she had found Cynthia’s response—in a public place, at that—to be inappropriate and rude as well. She could excuse the behavior seeing that emotions ran high between the sisters, and Madison was well aware that family could be complicated.

“You think I was rude, too.” Cynthia drew a circle around Madison’s face, implying her reaction was written there.

“I just think that the two of you could have found a better place to talk,” Madison admitted.

“Probably, but sometimes things come up, and we’re not given the luxury of choosing when and where.” Cynthia gulped back the rest of her drink and signaled for the check.

“You’re mad at me now?” Madison asked the question, hating to do so for the second time today.

“No, I just need to get to bed. My head is swimming.” Cynthia looked blankly at Madison. “She just ran out on me, three days before my wedding.” There was regret and emotion in her voice, a vulnerability.

Madison took her friend’s hand. “I’m sorry.” As much as Cynthia may have overstepped, Madison’s heart ached for her. It was her perfect wedding at stake, and Cynthia was like family to her.

“It’s bad enough Mom’s no longer around.” Cynthia’s eyes glazed over.

Cynthia’s mom had died not long before Madison had met Cynthia, going on nine years ago.

“That has to be tough,” Madison empathized.

“Yeah.” Cynthia pinched her eyes shut briefly. “She can just be so stubborn. More than you.”

How did I get pulled into this?

Madison jutted out her chin. “I’m proud of that quality.”

“As you should be.”

Well, that’s a first. Madison had always thought she was alone in viewing her stubbornness as an asset.

Cynthia continued. “If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d let things go, turn the other way. Killers would walk. Stiles PD, the city, the world would feel the loss.”

“I don’t know about the world,” Madison said modestly, “but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The waitress brought the check, and Madison scooped it off the table. “I know you said tonight was on you, but I won’t have it.” She slid a credit card in the check folder and put it at the edge of the table.

“Thanks.”

“For you, the world.” Madison laughed, and Cynthia smiled.

“Hey, how did you make out with Your Best Friend and notifying them about Saul Lynch?” Cynthia asked.

Madison proceeded to tell her about Stephanie and how they still had to put their hands on Lynch’s laptop. “We think that something Lynch was investigating resulted in his murder and you-know-who’s.” Madison didn’t want to mention Lorene’s name in case anyone overhead.

“Let’s hope his laptop shows up,” Cynthia said.

“You’re telling me. All we have right now is their billing, which doesn’t really tell us anything.” Madison shrugged. “They kept the details vague, but it gives us some names.”

“Huh. Hard to figure out motive and line up suspects without knowing what Lynch was into.”

The waitress came by and took off with the check folder.

“Isn’t it? Impossible really, short of contacting everyone he was working for and asking them.”

“You might not have another choice,” Cynthia stated.

“Might not, but I’m hoping we will.”

The check returned with Madison’s credit card. She added a tip and signed off. She realized, as she did, that she was utterly exhausted. It had been an eventful day, and a long one. Tag on her symptoms that hinted at a cold settling in, and she felt more drained.

“You heading back to work at—” Cynthia consulted her phone “—ten thirty at night? You can’t exactly be calling around.”

“I can get their names and numbers ready for tomorrow. Besides, Terry was working tonight.” For her partner, for the name of teamwork, she couldn’t give in to the temptation to just go home and snuggle in with Troy and Hershey, even if she desperately wanted to.

“Then he should have that all done,” Cynthia joked.

“I’m not holding my breath. He had to check out a cancer support group. He was going to ask around and see if anyone there knew what you-know-who was having investigated.” As Madison said the words, she felt like smacking herself in her head with her palm. If anyone would know what Lorene was investigating, it would be Sabrina Darbonne, her best friend. After all, Darbonne knew about the cancer when no one else did. How had she and Terry not thought of this before?

“There’s also a little mystery,” Madison started, “related to Saul being a PI but not having his fingerprints on file.”

“Right. I never thought of that.”

“Terry gets the credit.”

“Guess he has to sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Madison agreed. “We brought back a framed certificate saying that Lynch is licensed as a PI with the state. It’s right there in black-and-white, but something’s off.”

“I’d be verifying its authenticity.” Cynthia shrugged.

“Definitely part of the plan.” A tickle at the back of her throat caused her to cough.

“You told me you’re not going to get sick.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I sure hope so. Without you, no one will be standing up with me at my wedding.”

Madison had every intention of reaching out to Tammy to see if she could smooth things out on that end, at least patch things up enough so that the wedding could go on as planned. “Everything will work out.”

“You say that like you know for sure, but you don’t.”

Madison hesitated to let Cynthia know she planned on talking to Tammy, fearing Cynthia would hate the idea. Madison opted for honesty. “Let’s just say that if there’s anything I can do about—”

“You’re going to talk to her? Well, good luck.” Pain flicked across Cynthia’s eyes.

“Are she and Ken staying with you and Lou?”

“Ha! Heavens no! Are you kidding me? You saw how well we did in the store. The tight quarters of our apartment? We’d probably kill each other,” Cynthia teased though amusement didn’t touch her eyes. “They’ve got a room at the Marriott.”

“That’s where Steven Malone’s set up. It’s a nice place,” Madison said, her mind drifting. If the two sisters butt heads often, why had Cynthia invited Tammy to be part of her wedding? Was it out of a sense of obligation? Madison couldn’t imagine Cynthia doing anything because she felt she had to.

“Yeah, the place is all right.”

She obviously hadn’t seen the presidential suite.

Cynthia slipped out of the booth. “You really think Terry’s back at the station? He probably hit the support group, then his pillow.”

“He could have,” Madison conceded. “He’d probably cut out for a bite to eat, but I can’t blame him for that.” She started coughing.

“Please go home and get some rest.”

“I’ve got to solve this case, Cyn.”

“At what cost?”

“I’ll be fine for the wed—”

“Not just that. You’re no good to the investigation if you’re bedridden.”

“Bedridden? It’s just a cold. It hasn’t even fully set in, and you and Terry make it sound like I’m dying.” She felt like it at times, but that was beside the point.

“Yep, there’s the stubbornness.” Cynthia laughed and got into her coat.

Madison stood and put an arm in one sleeve of her jacket, and something fell to the ground. Cynthia bent over and picked it up for her.

“Here you—” Cynthia was holding the burner phone.

Son of a bitch.

“Thanks.” Madison snatched it from her and stuffed it back into the pocket.

“What was that?”

“A phone.”

“Don’t be smart with me, girl. That’s not your normal phone. Why do you have a second phone?”

She couldn’t tell anyone about what she was doing with Leland King or her need to take down corrupt cops, how it was becoming a side mission in her life. “I could have replaced the one I had.”

“Spill,” she said and slid back in the booth.

Madison sat down again, too. “I can’t tell you why I have that phone. Please trust that it’s in your best interests not to know.”

“Whoa. That sounds serious. And mysterious.”

“Just forget you saw anything.” While Madison pleaded for Cynthia to look the other way and forget what she’d seen, there was a part of her that would love to unburden herself.

Cynthia studied Madison’s eyes. “Just promise me you’re not getting yourself into trouble and that you’re not in danger.”

Madison’s shoulders slumped, and Cynthia clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“What is it with you? You need to face danger to feel alive? You were hunted by a Mafia hit man just a couple of months ago,” she spat. “You barely survived that!”

“Please, Cynthia, just let this go.”

“If you end up dead because you’re digging where you shouldn’t be, I’ll never forgive you.”

Her friend’s statement stabbed her in the heart and briefly stole her breath. “You know I’d only look into something if it needed to be looked into.” She held Cynthia’s gaze. “I promise that I’m taking all the necessary precautions, and one of those makes it necessary for me to not tell other people what I’m doing.”

Cynthia didn’t say anything, and seconds ticked off on a clock somewhere. “Fine, but please just stay safe.”

“I’ll do my best. That’s all any of us can do.” Madison sure hoped her best efforts to keep herself and loved ones safe and to get corrupt cops off the street would be enough.