he voice of Trina Olsen-Hays filled Maddie’s office as she scribbled notes on index cards in an attempt to try and make some sort of order out of the taped conversation. Once she finished transcribing the pertinent information, she would shuffle and mix them with other cards she’d made in order to make a timeline she would then pin across her office wall. She’d learned after her first book that it was easier to move things around if they were written on cards as opposed to a straight line.

After an hour of writing notes, she turned off the tape and leaned back in her chair. She yawned and knitted her fingers together on the top of her head. It was Sunday and she figured the citizens of Truly were just getting out of church. Maddie hadn’t been raised in any one religion. As with most everything else while she was growing up, when Maddie had attended church, it had been totally arbitrary and dependent on her aunt’s fickle whims or one of her “programs.” If Great-Aunt Martha saw a 60 Minutes episode about religion, it reminded her that she might be falling down on the job in the God department, and she’d drop Maddie off at a random church and reassure herself on the way home that she was being a good guardian. After a few Sundays, Martha would forget about church and God and move on to something else.

If Maddie had to choose a religion, she’d probably choose Catholicism. For no other reason than the stained glass, rosary beads and Vatican City. Maddie had visited Vatican City several years ago, and it was definitely awe-inspiring. Even to a heathen like herself. But if she was Catholic, she’d have to go to church and confess the many sins she’d committed upon the body of Mick Hennessy. If she understood confession, she should feel repentant, but she didn’t. She might get away with lying to a priest, but God would not be fooled.

Maddie stood and moved into the living room. She’d had a great time with Mick last night. They’d had sex. Good sex, and now it was over. She knew she should feel bad that she hadn’t told him her mother was Alice Jones, but she didn’t. Okay, maybe a little, but probably not as bad as she should feel. She might feel worse if she had any sort of relationship with Mick, but she didn’t. Not even a friendship, and if she felt bad about anything it was that she and Mick could never be friends. She would have liked that. Not just for the sex, but because she liked him.

She moved to the French doors and looked out at the lake. She thought of Mick and his sister and his insistence that she not speak with Meg. Why? Meg was a grown woman. A single mother who supported herself and her son. What was Mick afraid would happen?

“Meow.”

Maddie looked down at her feet. On the other side of the glass door sat a small kitten. It was pure white and had one blue eye and one green. Its head looked almost too big for its body, like maybe it was inbred or something. Maddie pointed at it and said, “Go home.”

“Meow.”

“I hate cats.” Cats were nasty creatures. They shed all over your clothes, shredded the furniture with their claws, and slept all day.

“Meow.”

“Forget it.” She turned and walked through the house and into her bedroom. Her sheets, pillowcases, and duvet cover lay in a heap on the floor and she carried them to the laundry room off the kitchen. She needed to get all reminders of Mick out of her house. No indents in her pillows. No empty condom wrappers on the nightstand. Mick was like cheesecake, and she just couldn’t have anything around to remind her how much she liked and missed cheesecake. Especially when it was so good she’d just gorged herself into a coma the night before.

She stuffed her sheets and pillowcases into the washing machine, loaded it up with soap, and turned it on. As she shut the lid, the doorbell rang, and her stomach kind of got light and heavy at the same time. There had only ever been one person who rang her doorbell. She tried to ignore the feeling in her stomach and the sudden spike in her heartbeat as she moved toward the front of the house. She looked down at her green Nike T-shirt and black shorts. They were old and comfy and not the sort of clothes to inspire lust, but neither had the sweatshirt and pants she’d had on last night, and Mick hadn’t seemed to mind.

She looked through the peephole, but it wasn’t Mick. Meg stood on her porch wearing dark sunglasses, and Maddie wondered how Meg knew where she lived. Maybe from Travis. She also wondered what Meg could possibly want on a Sunday afternoon. The obvious answer was she wanted to talk to Maddie about the book. But Meg looked so much like her mother that another answer came to mind; she’d come over for some kind of confrontation. Maddie wondered if she should break out her Taser, but she’d hate to shoot Meg with fifty thousand volts if she’d just come over to talk about what had happened twenty-nine years ago. That wouldn’t be very nice, and would be counterproductive, since she wanted to hear what Meg had to say. She opened the door.

“Hi, Madeline. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Meg began. “I just dropped Pete off next door, and I was wondering if I could talk to you a moment or two.”

“The Allegrezzas are back so soon?”

“Yes. They came home this morning.”

A slight breeze played with the ends of Meg’s dark hair, but she didn’t appear agitated or crazy, and Maddie stepped back. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” Meg pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and stepped inside. She wore a khaki skirt and a black short-sleeved blouse. She looked so much like her mother it was spooky, but Maddie supposed it was no more fair to judge her by her mother’s behavior than it was for people to judge Maddie by hers.

“How can I help you?” Maddie asked as the two moved into the living room.

“Was my brother here last night?”

Maddie’s footsteps faltered a fraction before she continued across the living room. While she’d been wondering what brought Meg to her porch, it hadn’t occurred to her that Meg was here to talk about last night’s debauchery. Perhaps she’d need the Taser after all. “Yes.”

Meg sighed. “I told him not to come here. I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. He’s worried that if I talk to you about Mom and Dad, I’ll get upset.”

Maddie smiled with relief. “Please sit,” she said and indicated the couch. “Would you like something to drink? I’m afraid I only have Diet Coke or water.”

“No, thank you.” Meg sat and Maddie took the chair. “I’m sorry that Mick felt he needed to come to your house and order you not to talk with me.”

He’d done more than that. “Like you, I’m an adult, and I don’t take orders from your brother.” Except for when they’d been in the spa tub, and he’d looked at her through those gorgeous eyes of his and said, “Come over here and sit on my lap.”

Meg set her purse on the coffee table. “Mick isn’t a bad person. He’s just protective. Growing up, he had it rough and doesn’t like talking about our parents. If you’d met him under different circumstances, I’m sure you’d like him.”

She liked him more than was wise under the current circumstances. She didn’t even want to think about how much she might like sitting in his lap if he wasn’t a Hennessy. “I’m sure that’s true.”

A frown wrinkled Meg’s brow. “There’s a rumor going around town that a movie is going to be made out of your book.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Carleen came into my work yesterday and told me that Angelina Jolie is going to play my mother, and Colin Farrell my dad.”

Colin Farrell made a little sense because he was Irish. But Angelina Jolie? “I haven’t been offered a movie deal.” Hell, she hadn’t even told her agent about the book. “So you can tell everyone that there isn’t going to be a film crew arriving anytime soon.”

“That’s a relief,” Meg said, then turned her attention toward the French doors. “Your cat wants in.”

“It’s not mine. I think it might be a stray.” Maddie shook her head and leaned back into her chair. “Do you want a kitten?”

“No. I’m not really a pet person. I’ve promised my son a dog if he behaves for a month.” She chuckled. “I don’t think I’ll have to make good on that promise anytime soon.”

When Meg laughed, she looked a bit like Mick. “I’m not really a pet person either,” Maddie confessed and wondered if Meg had come over for a chat about pets or to talk about her parents. “They’re a lot of bother.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that. I’m not a pet person because they die.”

As far as Maddie was concerned, that was the only good thing about cats.

“Growing up, we had a poodle named Princess. She was mostly Mick’s dog.”

Mick had a poodle? Not only could she not see Mick owning a poodle, she couldn’t imagine him naming it Princess. “Did he name her?”

“Yes, and she died when he was about thirteen. The only time I’ve seen Mick cry was when he had to bury that dog. Even at our parents’ funeral, he was a stoic little man.” Meg shook her head. “I’ve had too many people die in my life. I don’t want to get attached to a pet and have it die on me. Most people don’t understand that, but it’s how I feel.”

“I understand.” And she did. More than Meg would ever know. Or at least know for now.

“You’re probably wondering why I stopped by instead of waiting for you to contact me.”

“I assume you are anxious to talk about your mother and father and what happened on that night in August.”

Meg nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I don’t know why you want to write about what happened, but you do. So I think you should hear it from my family, and Mick’s not going to talk to you. That leaves me.”

“Do you mind if I tape-record the conversation?”

Meg took such a long time to answer, Maddie thought she might refuse. “I guess that would be okay. As long as I get to stop if I feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Maddie rose from the chair and walked to her desk. She popped a new cassette into the tiny recorder, grabbed a folder and pen, then returned to the living room. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t feel like saying,” she said, although it was her job to get Meg to spill it all. Maddie held the recorder in front of her mouth, gave Meg’s name and the date, then set it on the edge of the coffee table.

Meg looked at the tape recorder and asked, “Where do I begin?”

“If you feel comfortable, why don’t you talk about what you recall of your parents?” Maddie sat back in her chair and rested her hands lightly on her lap. Patient and nonthreatening. “You know, the good times.” And after Meg talked about those, they would get to the bad.

“I’m sure you heard that my parents fought.”

“Yes.”

“They didn’t fight all the time, it was just that when they did…” She paused and looked down at her skirt. “My grandmother used to say that they were passionate. That they fought and loved with more passion than other people.”

“Do you believe that?”

A wrinkle furrowed her brow and she clasped her hands in her lap. “I just know that my dad was…bigger than life. He was always happy. Always singing little songs. Everyone loved him because he just had a way about him.” She looked up and her green eyes met Maddie’s. “My mother stayed at home with Mick and me.”

“Was your mother happy?”

“She…she was sad sometimes, but that doesn’t mean she was a bad mother,” Meg said and proceeded to talk about wonderful picnics and birthday parties. Big family gatherings and Rose reading bedtime stories that made the family sound like one big Hallmark card of happiness.

Bullshit. After about thirty minutes of listening to Meg cherry-pick her stories, Maddie asked, “What happened when your mother was sad?”

Meg sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, it’s no secret that things got broken. I’m sure Sheriff Potter told you about the time my mother set my father’s clothes on fire.”

Actually, the sheriff hadn’t mentioned it. “Mmm.”

“She had the fire under control. There was no need for the neighbors to call the fire department.”

“Perhaps they were concerned because this area is a forest and it doesn’t take much to start it on fire.”

Meg shrugged. “It was May. So it wasn’t likely. The fire season isn’t until later.”

Which didn’t mean the fire wouldn’t have caused serious damage, but Maddie figured it was pointless and counterproductive to argue, and time to move things along. “What do you recall of the night your parents died?”

Meg looked across the room at the empty television screen. “I remember that it had been hot that day and Mom took Mick and me to the public beach to swim. My dad usually went with us, but he didn’t that day.”

“Do you know why?”

“No. I suspect he was with the waitress.”

Maddie didn’t bother reminding her that the waitress had a name. “After you went to the public beach what happened?”

“We went home and had dinner. Dad wasn’t home, but that wasn’t unusual. I’m sure he was at work. I remember we had ‘whatever night,’ meaning we could have whatever we wanted for dinner. Mick had hot dogs and I had pizza. Later we ate ice cream and watched Donny & Marie. I remember what we watched because Mick was really mad that he had to watch Donny and Marie Osmond. But later he got to watch The Incredible Hulk, so he cheered up. My mom put us to bed, but sometime around midnight, I woke up because I heard her crying. I got out of bed and went into her room, and she was sitting on the side of her bed and she had all her clothes on.”

“Why was she crying?” Maddie leaned forward.

Meg turned to Maddie and said, “Because my father was having another affair.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Of course not, but I was ten years old. I knew about the affairs.” Meg’s gaze narrowed. “Daddy wouldn’t have left us for her. I know he wouldn’t have really done that.”

“Alice thought he was going to.”

“They all thought that.” Meg laughed without humor. “Ask them. Ask Anna Van Damme, Joan Campbell, Katherine Howard, and Jewel Finley. They all thought he was going to leave my mother for them, but he never did. He never left her and he wouldn’t have left her for the waitress either.”

“Alice Jones.” Maddie had almost felt sorry for Meg, rattling off the names of her father’s lovers.

“Yes.”

“Jewel Finley? Wasn’t she friends with your mother?”

“Yeah,” Meg scoffed. “Some friend.”

“Did something happen that day out of the ordinary?”

“I don’t think so.”

Maddie put her forearms on her knees, leaned forward, and looked into Meg’s eyes. “Usually when you see an otherwise sane woman kill her husband and then herself, there is something that has added stress to the relationship. Usually it’s the belief that the person feeling the most stress feels powerless, like she’s losing everything and therefore she has nothing else to lose. If it wasn’t your father’s infidelity, then it had to be something else.”

“Maybe she just planned to frighten them with the gun. Maybe she wanted to scare them and things got carried away.”

That was usually the excuse, but rarely the case. “Is that what you believe?”

“Yes. Maybe she found them naked together.”

“They were both clothed. Alice was behind the bar and your father was in front of it. They were at least ten feet apart.”

“Oh.” She bit her thumbnail. “I still think she went there to scare Dad and things got out of control.”

“You think that, but you don’t know.”

Meg dropped her hand and stood. “My mother loved my father. I just don’t think she went there with the intention of killing anyone.” She put her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve got to get home.”

Maddie stood. “Well, thanks for your help,” she said and walked Meg to the door. “I appreciate it.”

“If I can clear anything up, give me a call.”

“I will.” After Meg left, Maddie moved into the living room and turned off the tape. She felt sorry for Meg. She truly did. Meg was a victim of the past just like she was, but Meg was older than both Mick and Maddie and recalled more of that horrible night. Meg also recalled more than she was willing to talk about too. More than she wanted Maddie to know, but that was okay—for now. Maddie had written the first chapter of the book but had stopped to work on the timeline. When she got the sequence of—

“Meow.”

Maddie leaned her head back. “For the love of God.” She moved to the door and look down at the kitten on the other side. “Go away.”

“Meow.”

She pulled the cord to her vertical blinds and turned them so that she could no longer see the annoying cat. She moved into the kitchen and made a low-carb dinner. She ate in front of the television with the sound turned way up. After dinner, she took a leisurely bath and scrubbed her skin with a vanilla body scrub. A white jar of Marshmallow Fluff body butter sat on the counter next to a towel. She’d received it in the mail at her house in Boise yesterday and had tossed it into her purse.

Lord, had it only been yesterday that she’d met with Trina, had a bridesmaid fitting, and had sex with Mick? She unplugged the bathtub drain and stood. She’d been a busy girl.

Maddie dried herself, then rubbed the creamy lotion into her skin. She pulled on her striped pajama pants and pink T-shirt, then moved to the living room and picked up the tape recorder from the coffee table where it still sat. A cell phone commercial blared from the televison and she hit the off button on the remote control. She wanted to replay Meg’s recollections of the evening her mother had killed two people and then herself.

“Meow.”

“Damn it!” She pulled the cord to the blinds and there, sitting like a white snowball in the darkening shadows of evening, sat her tormenter. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the kitten through the glass. “You have gotten on my last nerve.”

“Meow.”

How such a racket could come from such a tiny mouth was beyond Maddie. “Go away!” As if it understood, the kitten stood, walked around in a circle, then sat in the same exact spot.

“Meow.”

“I’ve had it.” Maddie went to the laundry room, shoved her arms into a jean jacket, then stomped across the floor to the French doors. She threw them open and scooped up the kitten. The kitten was so small its entire torso fit in one hand. “You probably have fleas or ringworm,” she said.

“Meow.”

She held the kitten out at arm’s length. “The last thing I need is a big-headed inbred cat.”

“Meow.”

“Shh. I’m going to find you a good home.” The dang kitten started to purr like they were going to be friends or something. As quietly as possible, she moved down the steps and tiptoed across the cold grass to the Allegrezzas’ yard. A light in the kitchen burned and through the sliding glass door, she watched Louie make a sandwich. “You’re going to love these people,” she whispered.

“Meow.”

“Really. They have a kid, and kids love kittens. Act cute and you’re in.” She set it on the deck, then ran like hell back to her house. As if she were escaping a demon, she closed the door, locked it, and shut the blinds. She sat on the couch and leaned her head back. Quiet. Thank God. She closed her eyes and told herself she’d just performed a very good deed. She could have chased it off by throwing something at it. Little Pete Allegrezza was a nice kid. He probably wanted a cat and would give it a good home. It obviously hadn’t eaten in a while and Louie would no doubt hear it and feed it a hunk of lunch meat. Maddie was practically a friggin’ saint.

“Meow.”

“Are you shitting me?” She sat up and opened her eyes.

“Meow.”

“Fine. I tried to be nice.” She stormed into her bedroom and shoved her feet into a pair of black flip-flops. “Stupid cat.” She returned to the living room, threw open the back door, and scooped up the kitten. She held it up in front of her face and glared into its spooky eyes. “You’re too stupid to know I found you a good home.”

“Meow.”

This was karma. Bad karma. Definitely a payback for something she’d done. She grabbed her purse with her free hand and flipped on the outside lights by the laundry room door. Once she was outside, the transponder in her purse unlocked the car’s door. “Don’t you even think about scratching this leather,” she said as she set the cat on the passenger seat. It was Sunday night and the animal shelter was closed. So dropping off the cat was not an option. If she drove to the other side of the lake and dumped it on a doorstep over there, the damn thing would not be able to find its way back.

She hit the start button on the gearshift. She wasn’t totally heartless. She wouldn’t dump it somewhere with a big pit bull chained in the yard. She didn’t want that kind of karma.

She put the car into reverse and glanced over at the kitten sitting on her expensive leather seat and staring straight ahead. “Hasta la vista, baby.”

“Meow.”

Mick drove his Dodge into the parking lot of the D-Lite Grocery Store and parked in a slot a few rows from the front doors. Pulling in, he’d seen the black Mercedes parked beneath one of the lot’s bright lights. Although he’d never personally seen the car, everyone in town knew Madeline Dupree drove a black Mercedes like Batman. Within the slightly tinted windows, Mick could just see the outline of her head and face. He walked to the car and knocked on the driver’s-side window. Without a sound, the glass lowered inch by inch. The parking lot light shone into the window and suddenly he was staring into the dark brown eyes of the woman who’d wrung him out the night before.

“Nice car,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Meow.”

He looked down past her face to a white ball of fur in her lap. “Why, Maddie, you have a pussycat on your—”

“Don’t say it.”

He laughed. “When did you get a cat?”

“It’s not mine. I hate cats.”

“Then why’s it on your…lap?”

“It wouldn’t go away.” She turned and looked ahead; her hands gripped the steering wheel. “I tried to find it a home across the lake. I even had a house all picked out. A nice one with yellow shutters.”

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was sneaking up to the porch, ready to toss the cat up there and run, but the damn thing purred and rubbed its head on my chin.” She looked up at him as a frown settled between her brows. “And here I am, thinking about all the cat food commercials on TV and wondering if I should buy Whiskas or Fancy Feast.”

He chuckled. “What’s its name?”

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Snowball.”

His chuckle turned to laugher, and she opened her eyes and glared at him. “What?”

“Snowball?”

“It’s white.”

“Meow.”

“It’s so girly.”

“This from a guy who named his poodle Princess.”

His laugher died. “How do you know about Princess?”

Maddie opened her car door and he stepped back. “Your sister told me.” She rolled up the window, grabbed the kitten with her free hand, and got out of the car. “And before you get all bossy, your sister showed up on my porch this afternoon and wanted to talk to me about your parents.”

“What did she say?”

“A lot.” She locked the door and shut it. “Mostly, though, I think she wanted me to think that growing up you were all happy as clams until Alice Jones moved to town.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Of course not.” She shoved the kitten inside her jean jacket and hung a big purse over one shoulder. The same big purse that carried her Taser. “Especially when she let it slip that your mother set a pile of your father’s clothes on fire.”

“Yeah. I remember that.” It was certainly no secret. “I remember the grass in the front yard didn’t grow back for a long time.” He’d probably been five at the time. A year before his mother had completely lost it.

“And in case you’ve heard the rumor, no, there is not going to be a movie starring Colin Farrell and Angelina Jolie.”

He’d heard the rumor and was relieved to hear it wasn’t true. “Are you wearing your pajamas?”

The kitten poked its head out of her jacket as Maddie looked down. “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah, but I was wearing pajama pants like this last night.” She looked up and a sexy little smile teased the corners of her lips. “For a little while anyway.”

And she didn’t think they were going to have sex again. Right. “Is that you?” he asked.

“Is what me?”

“I smell Rice Krispies treats.” He took a step toward her and dipped his head. “Of course it’s you.”

“That’s my Marshmallow Fluff body butter.”

“Body butter?” Oh, God. Did she really think they wouldn’t end up in bed together again? “I’ve thought about you all day.” He put his hand on the side of her throat and pressed his forehead to hers. “Naked.” Beneath his thumb, her pulse pounded through her veins almost as hard as his beat through his body.

“I’m back on the wagon.”

“You’re back to being sort of, kind of, celibate?”

“Yes.”

“I can change your mind.” He was trying to convince a woman to be with him, something he didn’t normally do. Either they wanted to or they didn’t.

“Not this time,” she said, although she didn’t sound particularly convinced.

But when it came to Maddie, nothing was normal. “You love the way I kiss and touch your body. Remember?”

“I, ahh…” she stammered.

Normally he didn’t think and obsess about a woman all day. He didn’t wonder what she was doing. If she was working or finding dead mice or how he was going to get her naked again. “You’re already dressed for bed.” He brushed his mouth across hers and her lips parted on a little gasp. Normally he didn’t waste his time because there were others he didn’t have to try and convince. “You know you want to.”

“Meow.”

She took a step back and his hand dropped to his side. “I have to buy cat food.”

Mick lowered his gaze to the white furry head poking out of Maddie’s jean jacket. That cat was pure evil.

“Good girl, Snowball,” she said and patted her kitten’s head. She looked up at him, then turned toward the front of the store. “Watch out for him. He’s a very bad man.”