I argued with myself the rest of the way home. Just go ahead and find out! Maybe after I solve Wendall’s murder. I’ve got too much to think about right now.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I had to stop in the driveway and take another look at the strange car parked in the yard. I didn’t recognize the car, but I recognized the large woman sitting on the porch.
Honor Perkins.
Now I was really nauseous. What could she possibly want? I parked my car and got out, wondering if I was ready for yet another confrontation. As I walked up the porch steps, I’m sure my expression said, what the hell are you doing here?
Honor got up and held out both hands as if to forestall my protests. “Before you say anything, I’m not here to cause trouble, honest. I need to lay low about forty-eight hours, and then I’m on my way. You owe me.”
I stopped. I owed her? “How do you figure that?”
“You called the cops, right?”
“Right. You’ll be happy to know Jerry didn’t rat on you.”
“I knew you would. I could tell by looking at you.”
I took out my phone. “Yes, and I’m getting ready to call them again. Why are you here?”
“Hold on, let me explain. I had originally planned to stay with Mrs. Forest, but she was just a little uncooperative.”
From the way Mrs. Forest had insisted on being paid right away, I knew exactly what had happened. “You stiffed her, didn’t you?”
Honor grinned and shrugged her wide shoulders. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. Can we sit down and talk?”
“I’ll give you five minutes.”
“All I need.”
She arranged herself in one of the rocking chairs. I positioned myself further away. I didn’t trust her one bit and was grateful her unexpected visit wasn’t later in the day when Austin and Denisha would have been here.
“You can’t stay here, Honor. I’m not going to harbor a fugitive.”
“Like I said, you owe me. I’ll sleep in my car. You won’t know I’m here.”
“No. You may be one of Jerry’s old friends, but I have no loyalty to you whatsoever.”
She rocked and smiled as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “Oh, there might be a few things about Jerry you wouldn’t want to come to light.”
“Blackmailing me won’t work. Jerry and I have discussed all the cons he’s done.”
“Everything?”
This made me pause. Before she came upon the scene, I hadn’t known anything about Honor Perkins, or the bank examiner swindle, or any of his past dealings with this woman. I believed Jerry was as truthful with me as he could be. Unfortunately, he often omitted things he knew would upset me.
Honor looked pleased with herself. “So, not everything.”
“What will it take to make you go away?”
“I need Jerry’s help with something. Nothing bad, I promise.”
“If it’s nothing bad, tell me what it is. Maybe I can help you.”
“It’s a bit personal.”
I’d had enough. “Your five minutes are up.”
I was wondering if I could physically wrest her from the rocking chair and heave her into the yard when a small SUV zipped up the drive and Jerry hopped out. As the car turned to go, he called “Thanks” and waved good-bye to the driver. He was almost to the porch when he saw Honor. His reaction was the same as mine.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by for a visit,” she said. “Nice place you got here. Lots of room.”
Jerry correctly read my face. “You can’t stay.”
“Aw, be a pal. Your wife called the cops, so I have to hide somewhere.”
“Not here.”
“I can pull my car around back and sleep there.”
“No.” He took her arm. “Look, for the sake of old times, I’ll tell you where you can hide, but you need to leave.”
She wouldn’t budge. “But I need to talk to you about something.”
This had all the signs of becoming a fierce tug of war, interrupted by a silver Mercedes coming up the driveway. My mind immediately shifted into overdrive. “Jerry, that’s my mother’s car.”
He let go of Honor’s arm. “Great timing.”
“What are we going to say?”
He and Honor looked a lot calmer than I felt. “No problem, Mac.”
Maybe the two of them were used to facing sudden potentially embarrassing situations, but my heart was doing strange little flutters as I went down the porch steps to greet my mother as she got out of her car. “Hello! What a surprise!”
Mother is tall, thin, and elegant. She decided years ago that color was vulgar and she’d dress only in black and white. She stared up at the house. “Good lord, what it must cost you to keep this up! And it needs painting, Madeline, or are you planning on aluminum siding? Jerry, how are you, dear? What a monstrous house your uncle left you! Are you certain you want to live here?”
Jerry kissed her cheek. “Hello, Cecille. Yes, I like the house very much. It looks better inside. This is a friend of mine, Honor Perkins. Honor, this is Mac’s mother, Cecille Maclin.”
Honor stood. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, sweet as pie.
They shook hands.
“Do you also work at the theater, Miss Perkins?”
I could tell Honor was glad for an opening. “Yes, exactly.” She glanced at Jerry for a clue. “We’re doing a great show.”
“Oklahoma,” he said.
“What part do you play?” Mom asked.
I couldn’t help her there, and before Jerry could fill in, she said, “Oh, I’m the mother.”
I’m not sure if Oklahoma has a mother, but fortunately, Mom’s knowledge of musical theater isn’t vast. “How nice.”
“Can I carry anything for you?” Jerry asked.
“I just brought my overnight bag.”
“I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
Mother’s idea of an overnight bag was a large suitcase and a garment bag, which Jerry hauled upstairs. Once inside, she was a bit mollified by the redecorated living room. She inspected the white sectional sofa, moved one of the blue accent pillows a fraction, and nodded to herself. I expected her to run a finger along the mantel in search of dust.
“I see you have Blue Moon Garden displayed, Madeline. Did you design the room around those colors?”
“Jerry and I both like blue, so it was an easy choice.”
“I certainly didn’t expect anything this elegant. It’s too bad the outside of this house looks like a country store.”
“I think it has charm.”
She gave the painting another long look. “What have you done lately?”
“I’ll show you my studio after a while. Come have a look at the kitchen. We’ve finished in there, too.”
The kitchen met with her approval, and she had to agree the view of the fields was pleasant, “If you like that kind of thing.” She peered out the back windows. “Is this friend staying here? I don’t want to be in the way.”
“No, she just stopped by for a short visit.” The shorter the better.
“Now what about this gallery, Madeline? When can I see it?”
“I’m afraid there’s been a little problem,” I said. “The owner’s been murdered, so the gallery’s closed.”
It was typical of my mother that she thought of her own concerns first. “You mean I came all the way over here, and it’s not open? You could’ve called me.”
“It’s just thirty minutes, and I’m glad you could visit.”
Then she realized what I’d said. “The owner’s been murdered? You don’t mean Wendall Clarke?”
“Yes, and I’ve been hired to solve the murder.”
“Good heavens. So the gallery’s closed permanently? What happened?”
“Someone attacked him behind the gallery. That’s all we know right now.”
“Here in this little town? I wouldn’t think anything goes on.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I wish you’d give up this idea of being a detective, Madeline. Not only is it ridiculous, it’s dangerous.”
I didn’t want her to get started. “Let me give you the tour, Mom.”
Jerry met us at the top of the stairs. He must have done a quick check of our bedroom. I didn’t remember if I’d made the bed, but the blue comforter with its pattern of clouds was neat and straight, the pillows in place, and any dirty clothes had been scooped up and put in the hamper. “Cecille, we haven’t done all the bedrooms yet, but this is our room, and yours is next to it. I hung your garment bag in the closet.”
“Thank you. Now where is the art studio?”
“Right here, Mom.”
She stepped into the room. “Well…Well, you’ve done quite a lot.”
As she peered at each painting, I exchanged a glance with Jerry. He grinned and rubbed his fingers together in the sign for money. I nodded. That was coming up, for certain.
“Have you sold any paintings, Madeline?”
“All of these are commissions, except the one I did of Jerry.”
“If you’d spend more time on your art, you’d probably sell more. How on earth did you afford all the repairs?”
“Jerry’s brother gave him some money.”
This brought a gleam to her eye. “And you accepted it, Jerry?”
“For the house, yes.”
“Madeline tells me you’re the music director at the theater. I’m glad you’ve found a job you like.”
I’m glad you’ve found a job was what she meant. Jerry grinned. “I’ve become quite the settled married man. You ladies come downstairs and let me fix you some lunch.”
Mom said she’d already eaten, but would love some tea. Honor joined us in the dining room. I could tell she was having a fine time making up stories about her non-existent theater career, and Jerry went right along with her tall tales. However annoyed I was at her, she kept Mom entertained, so Mom wasn’t getting in more digs about the house, my agency, or my artwork.
After lunch, Honor said she had to get to the theater for an extra rehearsal. “Jerry, there’s one song in particular you need to hear.”
“I’m sure there is.”
“It’s the refrain that’s kind of tricky.”
“Believe me, I’ll take care of it.”
Mom didn’t see me roll my eyes at him to express my opinion of all the double talk. Honor thanked me for lunch and told Mom again it was a pleasure meeting her. Jerry walked her to the door and must have also walked her to her car because in a few minutes, I heard her drive off. I assumed he told her where she could lay low. Alaska would be a great choice.
Jerry returned to the dining room. “I think I’ll make some brownies for the kids.”
Mom looked at him askance. “Kids?”
“Jerry’s playmates,” I said. “Some neighborhood children. They come by after school.”
“What for?”
“To see what Jerry’s up to.”
“Don’t they have other children to play with?”
By the time the brownies were done and Denisha, Kennedy, and Austin arrived, Mom was still amazed. I made all the introductions.
“Kids, this is my mother, Cecille Maclin. Mom, this is Denisha Simpson, Kennedy Marshall, and Austin Terrell.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Maclin. I see where Madeline gets her good looks,” Denisha said in her straightforward way.
Mom was bemused. “Thank you.”
“Jerry, has my mother called you yet?” Kennedy asked.
“Not yet.”
“I wish she’d hurry up. Mrs. Norton wasn’t even there yesterday, and Mom wasn’t very happy about it.”
This caught my attention. “Kennedy, when was your piano lesson?”
“It wasn’t mine. It was Reagan’s. Mom took her over there at her usual time, which is four o’clock, and she waited and waited, but nobody was home, and Mrs. Norton didn’t answer her phone. Mom left a message, but Mrs. Norton didn’t call back until almost seven.”
Larissa had been at the two o’clock meeting and left soon after. She told me she came back to the gallery after four. “Did she explain why she missed Reagan’s lesson?”
Kennedy shook her head. “No, she didn’t, and Mom got mad and said if she couldn’t at least call to tell her she wasn’t going to be there, then maybe we’d find another teacher. So I don’t know why she hasn’t called you yet, Jerry.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “If that’s what your mother wants to do, she’ll get around to it.”
All Mom heard from our conversation was “piano lessons.” “That would be an excellent way to supplement your income,” she told Jerry.
“We’ll see.” He knew as well as I that Larissa would be even more put out with him if he started taking her students away.
Austin asked Jerry if he’d bought a Wow System yet, which involved a lengthy explanation for Mom. By the time the kids had eaten and exhausted their supply of questions and discussions about the various games you could play on the Wow, Mom was looking even more dazed.
“Tell you what,” Jerry said to them. “Why don’t you guys come to Parkland with me and help me pick out the best model? Call your folks and ask them.”
I handed Austin my phone so he could call his mother. Then Denisha called her aunt, and Kennedy called her mother. All three were granted permission, which sent them into orbit.
“The Wow 300 has Extreme Bowling,” Austin said. “You should get that one.”
“But they’re coming out with Wow 350 next month,” Kennedy said. “Maybe he should wait.”
“No, I want one now,” Jerry said. “Get in the car.” The kids ran and piled into the Mazda. “Be right back, Mac.”
Mother watched him drive away. “Are those children here often?”
“Every day.”
“And their parents don’t mind?”
“They’ve always played here. At least Austin and Denisha have. That’s how we met. They were running around in the secret passageways.”
“Good heavens. I hope you’ve closed those off.”
“No.”
She eyed me. “Those children are here every day. Doesn’t that annoy you?”
“No, I like them, and they keep Jerry occupied.”
“I don’t see how you stand it.”
Mom doesn’t have to say much to rile me, but the tone of her voice made it difficult for me to control my temper. “Oh, I’ve gotten used to it. In fact, Jerry and I are talking about having some children of our own.”
It’s not often that my mother is speechless. She stared at me for a long moment and then said, “I didn’t think you wanted children. I thought that was the main reason you left Bill.”
“Bill left me, Mom, and there were lots of reasons.”
“But this is absurd, Madeline! I don’t believe you.”
If I could’ve popped a baby out right then, I would’ve gladly done it. “I guess you don’t want to be a grandmother?”
“That’s not the point. I’m just not sure you’re ready to be parents. You and Bill could’ve managed. He has three now, did you know? I believe I heard something about a fourth.”
“Yes.” Bill always sent me an announcement.
“But to raise a child here, with your limited funds and limited future? I don’t think so.”
The limited funds I agreed with. The limited future was a slam. “Celosia’s a great place to raise children. It’s very safe.”
“Excuse me, but since you’ve moved here, at least three people have been murdered. Four, if you count Wendall Clarke. I don’t call that very safe.” She leaned forward, hands clasped together. “I didn’t come out here just to see the gallery. I have a proposal for you, and if you’re smart, you’ll agree.”
What was this?
“I have friends on the Arts Council board in Parkland. In fact, I have quite a lot of clout in that organization. I can get you a position at the Parkland Museum of Fine Art. I also have connections at the English Manor Townhouses in my neighborhood, and there is a vacancy. You and Jerry could move in next week. He can commute to Celosia until this music director job is through. I can’t imagine it would last very long, anyway, and then we’ll see about finding him something suitable.”
I realized my mouth was open. I took a breath. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a grown woman, a married woman, with a home and an occupation of my own.”
“I’m only trying to help you.”
“No, you’re trying to control me, which is what you’ve done since I was born, but those days are over.”
“Madeline—”
“Listen to me. Really listen. I hated those pageants, but I did them because it made you happy. What little girl doesn’t want to please her mother? Now I’m doing what makes me happy. I can’t be responsible for your happiness because you are never truly happy. Are you?”
“That’s nonsense.”
I was going to have to play dirty. “You’ve never said a word about my father. What did he do to make you so miserable?”
She pushed back her chair and got up. “If the gallery’s closed, then there’s really no reason for me to stay, is there?”
“Don’t go. Stay and explain this to me. I want to understand.”
“You know your father left us when you were born. I had to take charge. I had to be in control of everything. Otherwise we would have had nothing.”
“I’m glad you took care of us then, but you don’t have to take care of me anymore.”
“I believe you’ve made that abundantly clear. I’m going home.”
I wasn’t going to beg her to stay. I helped her carry her things to her car.
True to form, she hadn’t given up. “For God’s sake will you stop fooling around with these murders? It’s not…” she groped for the right words and settled on “proper behavior.” I knew she wanted to add “for a young woman who might still become a pageant winner or a prominent artist.”
“It’s what I want to do.”
She looked at me as if to say “How did I raise such an unnatural daughter?” But she replied, “Just be careful.” Then for a moment, her guard was down, and I saw real pain in her eyes. “You’re all I have, you know.”
I had to swallow a sudden lump of emotion. “I know.” She gave me a brief hug and got into her car. She drove back down the driveway. I sat down in a rocking chair and took another deep breath. This encounter with my mother had brought up some dark details. I’d known for some time that my mother’s marriage had gone off the rails, and she’d refused to have anything to do with men unless she called all the shots.
In her own way, she really cares about you, I told myself. You can’t fault your mother for wanting to be in control. Isn’t that what you want to do? You’ve never seen any similarity to her before, but it’s pretty clear you inherited her insane determination to have things your way.
That was going to change.