When the Stars Fall (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 2) Page 11

“I’m working on some options to get you financing.” There was a hint of excitement in his voice, suggesting he had good news.

  Or what he thinks is good news. Madison hated to dull the attractive spark that echoed in his eyes, but there was no need in prolonging the inevitable. No lender would agree to finance anything with her name on it, not after the way Gray had destroyed their credit. “I’m afraid getting a loan is out of the question.”

  “I’m not talking about a loan.”

  Madison’s eyes immediately flew to her grandmother. In light of a recent conversation in which Granny Bert offered to use her influence to get Bethani on the cheerleading squad, Madison would not put it past the old dear to pull a few strings on her behalf. “Granny, did you-”

  Bertha Cessna stopped her before she could finish the thought. She thrust up a deeply lined palm. “Don’t be looking at me with that tone of voice,” the old woman warned. “I have nothing to do with this.”

  Madison arched her brow. “You and Genny were the ones to instigate this whole charade to begin with.”

  She conceded with a shrug of her bony shoulders. “Other than that.”

  Nick motioned to the sketchpad she had yet to open. “Please, have a look. And let’s not worry about the financial details right now.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Madison muttered. Fifty thousand dollars was hardly a detail to be ignored, but she did as he asked. She glanced down at a detailed rendition of the Big House’s exterior. “It’s a good drawing, but it looks the same.”

  “Ah, but look at this.” His finger traced the pointed roofline of an additional turret added to the rear of the house. “I propose adding a turret back here that will house new bathrooms on all three levels. It is the best way to work in new plumbing, while keeping with the integrity and architect of the house.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t even realize that was a new feature.” She was duly impressed. She was also impressed by his cologne, which floated out to caress her senses as he bent his head near her own.

  Nick flipped to another page. “This would be the newly designed kitchen. It would allow for maximum counter space, plenty of cabinets for storage, and an efficient footprint. No more walking half way around the room to access the stove.” He pointed out a dozen features that left her mouth salivating. His sketch made even her kitchen in Dallas look rugged in comparison, and it had been professionally designed and decorated. This design, complete with new appliances, granite and the painted white cabinets she adored, blended a traditional turn-of-the-century farmhouse look with all the modern amenities she could ever need or want.

  “There’s more,” he grinned, turning the page. He showed her the plans to relocate and enlarge the laundry room, along with adding a second bathroom to the ground floor. The next page in his sketchbook detailed the spacious new bath for the second floor. The old bath would be remodeled and turned into part of the master suite. By the time he finished explaining his vision for her private sanctuary and the added bathroom for the third level, Madison was drooling. The house was everything and more than she could ever want.

  When she closed the pad at last, he sat back with an expectant smile. “So?” he asked. “Do you approve?”

  “It’s-It’s amazing.”

  Amanda was the one to comment. “Then why don’t you look more pleased?”

  “These plans are absolutely stunning. If money were not an issue, I would have you start immediately.”

  “As Nick said, don’t worry about the money for now.”

  “How can I not worry?” Madison said in exasperation. She looked at Nick with accusation in her eyes. “I know what you’re doing. You think that if you dangle just the right carrot in front of me I’ll find a way to make this happen. But you aren’t listening. I can’t afford the renovations.”

  Nick jumped to his feet, his face registering frustration. “I’m offering you the deal of the decade, and you’re still trying to drive a better bargain?”

  Angered by his assumption that she was playing a game, Madison flew to her feet and practically yelled. “I’m not trying to drive a bargain. I’m trying to get it through to your thick skull that I. Have. No. Money. Get it? I’m broke! No matter how great of a deal you offer me, I cannot afford it!”

  They stood staring at one another, both their chests heaving with raw emotion. Madison tried to read the thoughts flashing in his stormy blue eyes, but she refused to be distracted by the sheer beauty of them. No matter how charming and magnetic the man might be, she still had no money.

  Amanda was the one to break into the terse silence in the room. “Nick,” she began softly.

  Nick ignored his producer. Shaking off whatever she might have to say, he spoke out, his words practically a growl. “I want this house.”

  “Get the numbers down,” Madison challenged smartly.

  “Not going to happen.”

  The footstool on Granny Bert’s recliner came down with a loud thump. “Now hold on, you two. No need in squaring off like a couple of old gunslingers. Young man, I like what you’ve drawn up for the house. Now you go on back to the city and find a way to make it happen. When you get those numbers down, you come on back and we’ll talk business.”

  Nick stared at the old woman in shock. “Down? Get the numbers down? This is over a one hundred thousand dollar renovation. Close to two hundred thousand, with these extras I’ve thrown in. I’m offering it to you for the rock-bottom price of fifty thousand. It can’t get much lower than that.”

  Granny Bert gave a sudden weary sigh. “He’s right, Madison. He’s offering you a wonderful deal. All of those bells and whistles for a mere fifty thousand.” She shook her wrinkled head with just the right amount of awe.

  Madison stared at her grandmother in dismay. Whose side was she on, anyway? “I can’t afford the bells and whistles, Granny,” she practically hissed. “Or the house.”

  “Of course you can’t.” Her grandmother reached out a bony hand and patted her arm. “So you’ll just have to live without the bells and whistles. The house needs a few walls knocked out here and there, but don’t worry, Hank Adams is a fairly decent handy man. He has a nice little crew of rag-tags and misfits, most of them trained right here locally at the high school Shop Class.” She slid a sly glance at Madison the others could not see. “True, Billy Blackburn is as clumsy as an ox on ice, but he means well. Verna Bishop had a fireplace like the one at the Big House and he dropped a hammer on it, busting that marble all to pieces, but do you know what he did? He took all those little bits and pieces and made her a walkway out to her pool. She says the gas insert is so much more efficient, anyway. We could do that with all the fireplaces, don’t you think? They have some nice ones at Home Depot that look like little pot belly stoves.”

  While Nick Vilardi visibly blanched, the old woman continued. “And no need to worry about re-doing any of the wood floors. We’ll just slap down some carpet. Or those laminate planks they have these days. Almost look real.” She marveled at the wonders of modern technology as she slid an eye to Nick’s face. It was growing paler by the moment.

  Knowing exactly what her grandmother was doing, Madison chewed on her lips to bite back a smile. To their guests, it appeared she was contemplating her grandmother’s suggestions.

  “Now, about that drawing on the dining room wall,” Bertha Cessna clucked, tucking her arm through her granddaughter’s. “I was thinking a nice thick coat of paint should cover it right up. Maybe-”

  “No!”

  The word was torn from Amanda Hooper. “You can’t paint over that mural!” she cried in horror. Actual tears welled in her eyes.

  “Sure you can,” Granny Bert responded, her tone chipper. “I’ve seen it done a dozen times. All you need is-”

  “But that’s a Seymour Addison original! Nick! Do something!” the television producer wailed in beseech.

  “Ladies,” he said hastily, a rare nervous quality in his voice, “I’ll need a little time to put something toge
ther, but I need your promise that you won’t start on any renovations until you hear from me.”

  “I don’t know,” Granny Bert said uncertainly. “How long are we talking? Do you have any idea what it’s like sharing this little old house with three extra people?” Never mind that her family of six had lived here comfortably for years. “Having teenagers in the house can wear on the nerves something awful. All that noise and loud music and parties late into the night. No offense to you, dear”—this, thrown Madison’s way—“but I can hardly wait for you and those noisy teens to have your own place.”

  “None taken,” she assured her grandmother. She knew it was all a show; the twins were extremely well behaved and were always the first to bed each night.

  “I’ll need to talk to the network brass and some of our sponsors,” Nick said. “Two weeks, tops. Can you give me that long?”

  “I really don’t see the point,” Madison said. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I have no money to invest in this project.”

  Granny Bert agreed. “That pot-filler do-hicky was nice, but you can carry your pots and pans back and forth to the faucet like you’ve always done. And even though Nick here talked about how nice that butcher block island is—top quality workmanship and fine wood grain and all—we could just rip it out to put in a dishwasher. Much more useful, if you ask me.” She added a smart little nod that allowed her to cut her eyes again toward Nick Vilardi’s panicked expression.

  “Again, let’s not be hasty,” the man pleaded. “Let me see what I can do about getting those numbers down.”

  All but ignoring him, the old woman offered more advice to her granddaughter. “They have those nice big pieces of remnant carpet you can buy down at Carpet Barn. All the rooms might not match, but it beats that scratched-up wood floor. You might could even get enough to do the stairs.”

  The veiled threat to the staircase sent Nick over the edge. He snatched up his sketchpad and, with a jerk of his arm, motioned for his producer to stand. “Come on, Amanda, we have work to do.”

  The blond woman scrambled to her feet as he directed, allowing Nick to pull her toward the door where he whirled around and faced Madison with a look that could only be described as a glare. “I’ll be back,” he declared. “I’m not about to let some two-bit carpenter lay a finger on that house. You two have no idea what kind of treasure you have on your hands, and what damage one of your local yokels could do with a hammer and a bucket of paint!”

  “Again, I have no-”

  He cut her off before she could finish her tired old mantra. “I’ll find the money to restore your house—properly—even if I have to sell my soul to the devil to finance it. When I want something, I make it happen.” He all but shook the sketchpad at her. “And I want this house.”

  Madison stood in the middle of the living room, her mouth agape at his vehement parting.

  Granny Bert trailed their guests to the door, waving in farewell and issuing a friendly invitation to return. Once the duo passed the growing number of fans in the driveway and crawled into the van, the old woman closed the door and gave a satisfied little cackle.

  “And that, my dear,” she announced smugly, “is how you skin a polecat.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Granny Bert was still crowing with delight while she and Madison made supper. Madison indulged the older woman, allowing her to gloat over her cunning negotiation skills. She added the appropriate murmurs of agreement in all the right places, but her mind was racing with possibilities. What if Nick actually did find a way to remodel the Big House for a fraction of the cost? Would that make buying the old mansion feasible?

  She was still debating the issue in her mind when Bethani came blazing through the door, long blond hair trailing behind her. “Mom! Mom, where are you?”

  “Refrigerator.” She popped her head out as she searched for a decent head of lettuce. Either Granny Bert’s refrigerator was on the blink, or Moe’s Market stocked inferior produce these days.

  “Oh. I didn’t see you there. What are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, the fifteen-year-old went on to gush, “I have the most unbelievable news! You’ll never guess what happened! Go on, guess!”

  “Well, -”

  “He asked me out! The cutest boy in school asked me to the Valentine’s Day Dance! Can I go, Mom, please? I know Daddy always told me I had to wait until my sixteenth birthday, when he could take me out and show me how a real man should treat a lady on a date. But Daddy…” her bright voice faltered and tears swam in her eyes before she forged on through “…Daddy can’t… So can I go, Mom, please? It’s really more like a group of us going, not an actual date. And Blake is going!” She flung the last part out in challenge.

  Madison waded through the flood of emotions and errant thoughts that accompanied her daughter’s rushed words. What did Grayson know about how to treat a lady, anyway? She’d rather Bethani not be subjected to his version of a ‘real man’. But the tears in the young girl’s voice broke through Madison’s hardened heart and made her own eyes water. She was thankful that her daughter was happy and was fitting in so well at school. Bethani’s enthusiasm was contagious, right up until reality set in. Where on earth would she find the money to buy the teenager a dress for the dance?

  The teen gave her all of five seconds to respond before wailing, “You’re not saying anything, Mom! You’re not going to let me go, are you? Granny, do something!” She turned beseeching blue eyes to her great grandmother.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Madison broke in. “I never said you couldn’t go.”

  “Then can I?” Hope gurgled in her baby blue eyes.

  “I assume we’re talking about Drew Baines?” He was a junior and President of the Future Farmers of America. Until a few weeks ago, Bethani made fun of his organization. Funny how a handsome face can make a girl do an about-face, Madison mused. Visions of two other handsome faces floated through her mind. This wasn’t about Brash and Nick, however. Madison brought her attention back to her daughter, just in time to see her frown.

  “Drew? He’s taking Teryl Perez. She wanted to go with Blake, until they found out we were like fourth cousins or something. So now Drew is taking Teryl and Blake is taking Danni Jo Combs, since she and Shawn Bealls just broke up. Jeff Adams is taking Megan, so we’re all going together in a limo that Mama Matt is renting us.” Bethani tossed her blond head as she explained the intricacies of high school dating. “Please, Mom, can I go? You just have to say yes!”

  Megan deCordova was Bethani’s newly made best friend and happened to be Brash’s daughter. The teen lived with her mother and stepfather, who were, respectfully, Madison’s former arch nemesis and high school boyfriend. As it turned out, Shannon Wynn Aikman wasn’t nearly as horrible as Madison had imagined all those years, and Matt, a.k.a. Mama Matt, seemed intent on playing matchmaker between her and Brash.

  “I still don’t know who asked you!” Flabbergasted, Madison managed to squeeze the words out between her daughter’s rant.

  “Mo-om! Who am I always saying has the dreamiest green eyes? Josiah Burton!”

  “Burton? Is his grandmother George Gail Burton?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. His grandfather is partners with your uncle at the sale barn. Josiah works there on weekends and during the summers. He’s saving up to buy a truck, so he wanted to know if you could get him a good deal at the car dealership.”

  “As of today, I no longer work there. Uncle Glenn is back from his cruise, so I’m done with that job. But I can put in a good word for him,” she offered.

  “So I can go?” The teen bounced up and down, taking the offer as a sign of general good will and approval.

  “I want to meet him first.”

  Bethani squealed in delight. “You’re the best, Mom!” she said, throwing her arms around her mother and kissing her cheek. “I’ll go text him right now!”

  As the blond whirlwind swept from the room, Madison mumbled, “What ever happened to calli
ng?”

  “What ever happened to coming to the door and asking to meet the parents before you asked a girl out on a date?” Granny Bert countered with a grumble.

  Madison sighed. “I guess we’re old school. And I guess she’s going to need a dress.”

  ***

  Bethani needed a dress, Blake needed a new shirt, and they all could use a dinner date.

  After their shopping excursion at the College Station mall, they gathered for a late dinner the next evening at a favorite restaurant. It was the perfect time to tell the twins about her newest embroilment in yet another murder case.

  “Seriously, Mom, this has got to stop,” Blake chastised her. “Nothing like this ever happened in Dallas. Yet we move to the country where things are supposed to be nice and quiet, and this is the second murder you’ve gotten tangled up with! What gives?”

  “Just an unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Madison assured her son.

  “And you actually saw the killer?” Bethani questioned with eyes big and wide.

  “Just their back. I can’t identify him. Or her, whichever the case may be.”

  “But they can identify you.” Blake made it a statement, not a question. There was a crinkle of worry between his blue eyes.

  “I-I don’t think so. Not really. It was dark that night, and very foggy. I’m sure we have nothing to worry about.”

  “And this lady was a T.V. star? To be such a little town, there sure are a lot of famous people,” Bethani said with an amazed shake of her head. “Glitter Thompson is a former Las Vegas dancer, Tug Montgomery is the former Heisman trophy winner, Brash deCordova a former NFL player, and now this Caress person, former daytime soap star. Go figure.”

  Her brother piped in, his worry already forgotten. “And soon we’ll have Blake Reynolds, baseball superstar and home-run king!” With a grin, the tall youth took an imaginary bow.

  “Yeah, you’re a legend in your own mind,” his sister quipped.