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Twenty-Four

There wasn’t anything that could get Madison’s mind off Troy. Paperwork—mind-numbing, most of the time—certainly wasn’t cutting it. She still tried to scrutinize Lorene’s phone records, conducting reverse searches on a few of the numbers. She decided it would probably be more effective to call after eight o’clock and inquire as to how they knew Lorene Malone, but as soon as Terry got in, she had something else she wanted to take care of first.

Terry walked into the bullpen and staggered back when he saw her. “You beat me here?”

“Always a smartass.”

“You bet.” He smirked, and she was happy to see that her partner seemed to be in a good mood this morning. Maybe Annabelle had agreed to see a doctor.

“Someone got a good night’s sleep,” she said, not daring to ask about Annabelle.

“Annabelle is going to make a doctor’s appointment today,” he volunteered as if he’d read her mind.

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah. Let’s just hope she gets good news.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll have each other, me, friends, and family.” Madison gave him a reassuring smile.

“You’re right,” he said somberly, and she wished she’d just spewed sunshine, but life had taught her to be cautious.

Madison glanced at the clock on the wall. 8:10 AM. She got up, grabbed her coat, and said, “Let’s go.”

“I just got here,” he sulked and pointed toward the coffee machine. “I haven’t even poured a cup—”

“We’ll get one on the way.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Kimberly Olson-Malone’s.” She walked past him, not waiting for a reaction, not even wanting to see one. Speaking with Kimberly about the phone call was the next logical step, and it was a respectable hour of the day, even though Kimberly might not feel the same way if she had drunk anywhere near the amount Troy had. There was a tiny part of Madison that would find some pleasure in waking her. After all, she didn’t think Kimberly was the innocent little thing the woman would have some people believe. Call it a gut feeling.

IF A HOUSE COULD LOOK like it was sleeping, that’s about the amount of energy Kimberly’s was emitting. The driveway had been cleared, but no lights shone from inside, and the front light was off. Everything looked sealed up. No vehicles were parked in the driveway, but Madison figured they were in the garage.

She rang the doorbell and waited, Terry beside her.

The door cracked open, the seal around it sounding as if it were resisting. Kurt peeked his head out and squinted into the morning sun.

“Good morning, Kurt,” Madison said. “We need to speak with your sister.”

He opened the door for them to step inside.

“She’s sleeping,” he said.

“I’m afraid we’re going to need you to wake her.”

“This can’t wait until later?” The Kurt from last night was gone and replaced by a protective younger brother—and possibly a hungover one. “If it’s about that man’s picture, I doubt she’ll recognize him.”

“We’re here about something else as well,” Madison started. “Something only she can help us with.”

Kurt held Madison’s gaze as he took a staggering breath. “I can go see if I can rouse the dead. Wish me luck.” He went up the stairs, mumbling something about being thankful homicide detectives were in the house.

Terry turned to Madison. “We probably could come back later.”

“No, we’re here now.” Her obstinance was partly coming from Kimberly’s meeting with Troy last night, circumventing the system and breaking an unspoken rule by doing so. She had essentially inserted herself into an active police investigation. Whether Kimberly had done so intentionally or not, Madison had yet to determine. It wasn’t like she could come out and confront Kimberly in front of Terry, though. If she did, she’d call Troy’s character and integrity into question.

A door creaked open upstairs and footsteps padded toward the upper landing. Kimberly looked down at them. Her dark hair was tousled and fell over her shoulders as if she’d just had it blown out at the salon. Her eyes were weary, as was the expression on her face. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

Detective? Singular? As if Terry wasn’t even standing there. Kimberly seemed to be making this personal. To what end?

“We have a sketch for you to look at—of the man who was found with your mother.”

Madison would get to the phone call, but she’d start with more neutral territory first. Otherwise, Kimberly would probably get all defensive and call for a lawyer faster than kids run around a candy store.

Kimberly tied the belt on the silk robe she was wearing and slinked down the stairs. For an instant, Madison hated the woman with every fiber of her being. She was beautiful, and no doubt knew how to use it to her advantage. Madison hated to think of her manipulating Troy for her own agenda.

Kurt started down behind his sister but passed her. “I’ll go put on a pot of coffee, sis.”

“Thanks,” Kimberly barely mumbled and flipped some hair out of her face. She reached the entry and leveled a glare on Madison.

“We thought you’d like to see the man’s picture as soon as possible,” Madison said.

Kimberly regarded her with suspicion. “His face is burned into my mind, actually,” she said drily. “I can take a look, but I didn’t recognize him when I found him with my mother.”

Terry took out his phone and extended the sketch of John Doe toward Kimberly.

She leaned in toward the screen, studied the image for long enough to memorize it in detail, then shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.” There was disappointment in her voice.

“You’re sure,” Madison pressed.

Kimberly matched gazes with Madison and spoke very slowly. “I’ve. Never. Seen. Him. Before.”

Why did this woman have such an edge to her when all Madison was trying to do was solve her mother’s murder?

Kurt edged up to his sister and put a steaming mug of coffee into her hands.

Kimberly looked on her brother with affection, but her eyes turned to ice when she turned back at Madison. “Kurt said you had something to discuss with me.” It was as if she were daring Madison to bring up Kimberly’s rendezvous with Troy.

“We do,” Madison said coolly.

“Okay.” Kimberly sauntered into the sitting room. Madison, Terry, and Kurt followed.

Kimberly sat crossed-legged on the couch and flipped her robe over her legs. Madison regarded her skeptically. She’d found her mother murdered yesterday morning and there didn’t seem to be any grief coming from her at all—no emotion, really—unless rage counted.

Madison sat on a chair. “We’re just wanting to verify something.” She turned subtly toward Terry.

“The last time you spoke to your mother was Monday night,” Terry said.

“That’s right,” Kimberly said slowly and sipped some of her coffee.

“And it was only briefly,” Madison baited the hook for a liar, using Kimberly’s own words.

“That’s right.”

Kimberly’s tone was relaxed, as was her posture. Either she was really good at lying, or the length of the phone call totally slipped her mind.

“Huh.” Madison just let that sit out there for a few seconds, utilizing the power of silence. It could drive some people mad with the need to fill the dead space.

“She was my mother, we talked. So what?” Kimberly licked her lips, and her body stiffened ever so slightly. “I don’t know for how long!” she snapped.

“You don’t think that might be important?” Madison asked.

“I don’t see how.” Kimberly glanced at her brother, eyes widened as if Madison were a crazy person.

“It was hours before she was killed,” Madison softened her approach with the intent of throwing Kimberly off guard and opening her up. “What did you talk about?”

Kimberly hugged her mug with two hands and nestled into the couch. “I don’t see how what we talked about matters.”

“How was she?” Terry interjected, taking Kimberly’s gaze.

Kimberly didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and the underlying current of tension and animosity was easy to feel.

“Were you and your mother at odds about something?” Madison raised her eyebrows.

Kimberly glanced at Kurt, who was watching her intently. After a bit, she said, “Let’s just say that Mom and I weren’t seeing eye to eye on something.”

Kurt leaned over and put a hand on his sister’s forearm. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Kimberly put her hand over her brother’s. “I didn’t want to burden you with that.” She looked at Madison. “It would have gotten sorted out. It was just a silly matter when I think back on it.” The dullness in her eyes belied her claim. Whatever they had been talking about was far from being the “silly matter” that Kimberly was trying to pass off.

Madison leaned forward, just slightly. “Where were you Monday night after eight o’clock?” This would have been after Beaulieu, the cook, had left for the day.

“I believe last time you asked a similar question, I’d said we’d have a lawyer present. I’ve been pleasant, Detective, speaking with you even after having my sleep disturbed.” Kimberly stood. “If that will be all. There are some things I need to take care of.”

What was Kimberly hiding? Didn’t she know that her behavior was just making her appear more suspicious? She’d had the opportunity to kill her mother and John Doe, but what was the motive? Did it have something to do with their disagreement? By extension, where had Kimberly gotten the gun? She didn’t have any registered to her.

Terry got up, but Madison hesitated. If only there was something more conclusive to justify bringing Kimberly downtown. Unfortunately, her refusal to provide an alibi wasn’t enough. It seemed there were secrets in the Malone household, and it led Madison’s mind to Lorene’s reaction to Rauch cleaning the Malones’ home office.

“We spoke to your parents’ housekeeper,” Madison started.

Kimberly shook her head. “Okay.” She might as well have said sooooo?

Madison went on. “She said that the other day your mother got quite upset that she was in your father’s office. Would you happen to know why?”

“I wouldn’t have the faintest.”

“Mrs. Rauch said that she’s cleaned in there before without issue,” Madison said.

Kimberly crossed her arms, but light flickered across her eyes. “I can’t answer for my mother, Detective, and unfortunately she’d dead, so she can’t answer for herself.”

Madison turned her attention to Kurt, who was still around but more as an observer. “Would you happen to have any idea why your mother wouldn’t want the housekeeper in there?”

“That’s where Dad kept confidential files. Mom probably didn’t want his privacy invaded.”

But she’d cleaned in there before…

“Have either of you been in your father’s office?” Madison asked, trying to get a better feel for how the room was normally treated: Fort Knox or open door.

“When I lived at home, sure,” Kurt said. “You, Kim?” He prompted his sister.

“Yeah, I’ve been in there.” She fidgeted with the tie on her robe and ended up stuffing her hands into its pockets. “But it was a long time ago for me, too.”

“Okay.” Satisfied for now, Madison dipped her head and got up.

She and Terry were seen to the door, and it was closed heavily behind them.

Madison glared over a shoulder toward the house. “What is that woman’s issue?”

“She lost her mother.”

Madison stared at her partner. “That doesn’t explain why it feels like she’s fighting us every step of the way. We’re trying to find her mother’s killer, and she treats us like we’re the bad guy. Threatens to call a lawyer every time we ask where she was Monday night. She doesn’t want to tell us what she was arguing with her mother about. That’s suspicious, too. If it had been my mom, I would do whatever I could to help detectives find her killer. I don’t get it.”

“Well, not everyone thinks like you do.”

“Ain’t that the—” Her phone rang, cutting her off, leaving “truth” unsaid. The caller ID told her it was Cynthia. “Whatcha got?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Cynthia said unamused. “Sometimes I feel so used.”

“You know I love ya.” Madison bit her tongue and resisted the urge to ask her friend what she had for them a second time.

“I just wanted to let you know that we’ve finished up the preliminary at the house. I haven’t released the scene yet, but I’m at the lab with some updates for you guys if you want to—”

“We’ll be there in five.”