Black Thursday (21 page)

thirty-one

I woke up to
a sound.

The first sound I'd heard since John Carter had snapped closed the padlock and hidden the bomb shelter behind the utility room shelving.

Footsteps?

Above me?

My first thought was that I was enveloped in concrete and had to be imagining things.

My second was to ignore my first thought and throw cans at the ceiling, or better yet (to avoid destroying what might one day be precious remaining food), bang the handle of the feather duster repeatedly until someone realized I was trapped below.

My third thought was that maybe it was John Carter, not yet gone from the house and walking around in a room he didn't usually go into.

If it was him, it wouldn't be any surprise that I wanted out.

I decided to bang as hard as I could, shouting a few times as though anyone could hear through the cement.

The sound stopped as abruptly as it started.

Brutal, unbearable silence filled the room once more.

I picked up the project I was working on—a makeshift blanket of snack bar wrappers, braided together like I'd learned to do with gum wrappers as a girl. While I worked, I tried not to think about whether I'd imagined the noise, or worse, that whoever was above hadn't heard my desperate banging from below.

Days or hours or minutes went by.

And then I thought I heard another noise.

This time in the utility room.

With the scritch of movement across the concrete floor on the other side of where I was hidden away, I grabbed two pull tab can lids, flipped off the light, and got into position beside a shelf of cake and muffin mixes.

If John Carter thought he'd come down to finish the job, he had another thing coming …

My heart pounded in my chest while I waited for the sound of the key in the lock. As soon as he opened the door, I would strike him quickly with the razor-sharp can edges and rush past him even faster.

What I heard instead was the sound of a saw cutting through the padlock.

I put my weapon down.

Tears were streaming down my face when the door finally opened and I was greeted by what looked like half the South Metro Police force.

Standing in the very front were Detective Reed and broad-shouldered, squared-jawed Detective McClarkey.

“Maddie,” he said, reaching out his hands. “When I told you to lay low, this was absolutely not what I meant.”

thirty-two

“Keep your eyes closed,”
Detective McClarkey said, helping me up the basement stairs. “The paramedics have sunglasses for you upstairs.”

“Did you get him?” I asked, my eyes watery despite keeping them squeezed shut. “Did you get John?”

“Oh, we definitely got him.”

“In Ecuador?”

“Argentina, actually. He made it as far as the airport, where he was greeted by the authorities. They were only too glad to coax a confession while they waited for us to get someone down there to take him right back.”

“I'm so glad he confessed,” I said, as he led me across what I assumed was the living room and helped me to sit on what had to be the lavender sectional. “And that he told you where I was.”

“From what I hear, it wasn't the most pleasant experience for him.” Detective McClarkey let out a little chuckle. “Apparently the Federales, or whatever it is they're called down there, don't follow the same interrogation protocol as we do.”

Someone slid a pair of sunglasses onto my face and I opened my eyes to the unspeakably happy sight of not only him, but a houseful of police activity.

“How long was I in there?” I asked as two paramedics began to check my vitals.

“A week,” he said. “And some change.”

I began to choke up. “Forever.”

“For all of us,” Detective McClarkey said. “There's been a massive police search, not to mention the civilian effort spearheaded by Alan Bader.”

“Alan?”

“Alan turned Bargain Barn into a search headquarters and started distributing flyers the second he made bail.”

“Try and keep still, Mrs. Michaels,” one of the paramedics said, putting a stethoscope to my chest.

“So the case against him wasn't dropped?” I asked as soon as I finished breathing in and out.

“Not immediately.”

“I was hoping the video Joe from Bargain Barn found would exonerate him.”

“It was definitely compelling but still circumstantial. It wasn't until your family reported you missing that we knew for sure we had the wrong man.” Detective McClarkey ran a hand through his graying crew cut. “The big problem was figuring out who we were actually looking for.”

“Don't I know it,” I said, as a paramedic put a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Isn't the husband always supposed to be the first suspect?”

“Everything seemed to point to Alan.”

“Except for the truth.”

“Which we only started to uncover after Joe told us you'd been in Bargain Barn that morning and filled us in on everything he showed you and what you'd asked in response. We were already looking for whatever tape we could find of the flat-screen TV line when Mr. Piggledy confirmed that you'd asked him who he'd seen standing there that night. Then your son FJ reported that you'd said you were going to check on something.”

“But since John Carter was never in the line …”

“We had little to go on.”

One of the paramedics hooked me up to a machine of some sort.

“I knew you'd eventually track me here. I mean, my car was parked out front and my phone was inside,” I said, glancing at the empty table where I'd left my purse. “At least it was a week ago.”

“We didn't need to. John called in to the police department to tell us you'd come by asking him questions, and that when he couldn't answer them, you seemed to have some sort of epiphany and rushed off.”

“Never to be heard from again.”

“We did send some officers out to the house to check things out in response and that weasel not only welcomed them in, but even showed them around.”

I swallowed back tears with the thought of the police in the house, totally unaware that I was trapped on the other side of a hidden door. “Weren't they suspicious of the bargain cache that is the entire basement?”

“Believe me, it isn't any weirder than a lot of things we see,” he said. “Especially given his wife was a confirmed fan of your website, and the fact that your car turned up abandoned in the
Here's the Deal
building parking lot.”

“Seriously?”

“The morning after you were reported missing.”

“He had to be trying to frame Wendy Killian for my disappearance,” I said. “John was angry at all the bargain hunting websites for encouraging his wife's addiction.”

McClarkey snorted in disgust. “I thought I'd heard every rationalization in the book.”

“You know, there was a part of me that felt badly for him at first, a victim of his wife's addictions …”

The paramedic pulled over an oxygen tank, put a tube around my head, and affixed it under my nose.

“I have to admit, I'm kinda over that now.”

“You know … ” Detective McClarkey raised a bushy eyebrow. “You're really something else.”

“I feel like something the cat dragged in,” I said. “Only worse.”

“We'll get you all fixed up.” He smiled kindly. “I just wish you'd have told someone where you were going last Monday morning.”

“I'd planned to.” The choking shame that had kept me both awake and sleeping those endless days suddenly burbled in my throat. “But given my suspicions …”

“Which were?

“At first I went back and forth between believing and not believing Alan, and narrowing down other possible suspects along the way. But after I saw the surveillance tape with Joe at Bargain Barn, I knew it couldn't be him.” I took a deep breath. “I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'd narrowed things down to the point where I was left with my husband and his family as the primary suspects.”

“You weren't the only one.”

“I wasn't?”

“We'd come to about the same conclusion and were investigating the connection between your interest in the TV line and the Michaels family.”

“I was trying to see if my brother-in-law was in the line.”

“He was,” Detective McClarkey. “And that's what we figured out, particularly after we accessed your computer and found your various spreadsheets related to the case.”

“You found my suspect list?”

“Your boys gave it to us.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “So everyone in the family knows I was suspicious of them? That I thought Frank had masterminded—”

“Speak of the devil,” he said pointing out the window.

Frank was barreling up the front walk toward the front door.

“Maddie!” Tears ran down his face as he rushed into the house, spotted me and, ignoring the continuing ministrations of the paramedics and the various tubes they'd connected to me, rushed over and scooped me up in his arms. “Thank God you're okay ! Thank God!” He looked me up and down. “Are you okay?”

Tears once again filled my eyes. “I've been better, and I definitely need something fresh to eat and a real shower, but—”

“But your blood pressure is high and your some of your vitals are bit shaky,” the paramedic said as a stretcher appeared through the open front door.

“I don't want to go to the hospital,” I said.

“Just for observation.”

“But I—”

“Nonnegotiable,” Detective McClarkey said. “But is there anything I can do for you before they transport you?”

I watched Detective Reed come up from the basement with an evidence bag.

“My notepad,” I said. “There was a notepad I left down in there. And my blanket.”

“I didn't see a blanket.”

“It wasn't really a blanket. It looks more like a sheet of woven wrappers.”

“I'll see what I can do,” he said, heading downstairs.

“Frank,” I said as the stretcher approached. “I'm so sorry. I can't begin to imagine what I've put everyone through. I—”

“It's okay, sweetheart,” he said. “Everything's okay now.”

“I'm sorry that my unfounded suspicions—”

“No apologies,” he said, his arms still around me. “The thought of not knowing if you were alive or … All that matters is you've been found. Safe.”

“Your family. They must hate me.”

“Hate you? Not a chance. Maddie, they love you.” He pulled me closer. “I love you.”

“Got 'em,” Detective McClarkey said, re-emerging from my hell with the two items that kept me from plummeting into total insanity. “This blanket, or whatever it is, is pretty slick.”

“Thank you, Detective McClarkey.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

“I don't know how to thank you for saving my wife's life,” Frank said.

“I wish I could take all the credit.” Detective McClarkey looked suddenly sheepish. “To be honest, it was actually Officer Watson who finally put the crucial pieces together.”

“Griff ?”

He nodded.

I looked around. “Is Griff here?”

“He's just a rookie so he's on traffic duty today,” McClarkey said. “But that young man definitely has a big future ahead of him. He was the one who thought to make the call to Bargain Barn for the names of the twenty people who received TV vouchers. John Carter, who stated on the record that he was in line for a TV when the pallet was pushed, wasn't on the list.”

Before he could elaborate any further, the cell phone at his hip began to chirp the
Hawaii Five-0
theme song.

“McClarkey,” he answered, listened for a second, and glanced out the bay window at the Channel Three news van that had pulled up. The crew filed out and began to set up on the grass. “No surprises there.”

“I didn't call them,” Frank said, as he hung up.

The detective gave him the eyebrow raise.

“I would never do that,” Frank said emphatically. “Ever.”

“I'm sure,” Detective McClarkey said, with less conviction than he could have. “But would you mind calling them off ?”

Frank was already on his way out the door.

As he dispatched his compatriots with a vehemence that told me he was telling the truth, McClarkey reached into his chest pocket and handed me a business card.

“Maddie, we'll talk more later.” His eyes, a pale blue, held a softness I hadn't noticed before. “In the meantime, if you need anything at all, just know I'm a phone call away.”

thirty-three

Frank remained by my
side while I was poked, prodded, analyzed, and finally admitted overnight for observation. He stayed in the room while I had the longest, hottest, most divine shower of my entire life.

When I emerged from the bathroom, he'd been joined by a huge, fragrant bouquet of flowers.

Complete with a card:

Dearest Maddie,

Words can't express my joy in knowing that you are safe and sound. I am forever indebted to you for your faith and belief in me throughout this awful ordeal. I have no idea how I will ever repay you for your friendship and sacrifice, but rest assured, I will figure out a way …

Love and appreciation,

Alan Bader

I smiled and got settled into bed just in time for an even bigger arrival.

“Mom!” Tears streamed out of both FJ's and Trent's swollen eyes as they bounded into the room and hugged me in unison.

Joyce, Gerald, Barb, my own sister, and her assortment of kids filed in behind, followed by Craig and his apparent ladylove, Wendy Killian.

All of them looked equal parts elated to see me and as utterly exhausted as I was from the past week's events.

My kids, who were reticent to let go of me, finally allowed everyone to hug me, one by one, in an oddly silent receiving line.

“I brought a bag of fresh vegetables,” Joyce finally said, pulling a gallon-size freezer bag filled with carrot and celery sticks, cherry tomatoes, and sliced peppers from her purse.

“How did you know?” I asked, reaching inside for a ring of green pepper and the most beautiful orange piece of carrot I felt like I'd ever seen. Or tasted.

With that, the silence was broken and everyone began to talk at once.

“We also brought you clothes for tomorrow,” Barb said. “And a proper nightgown.”

“But you look fabulous,” my sister said. “Considering …”

“Incredible.” The nieces nodded in agreement.

“I just can't believe that awful man would blame you—blame us—for his wife's addiction,” Wendy said.

Gerald shook his head. “Too much of a good thing …”

“Not when it comes to prison time,” Craig said. “He deserves to rot forever.”

“Speaking of time,” Frank said. “Eloise wanted so badly to come back home and be part of the search, but we didn't know how long …”

“We changed our tickets to stay for the long haul,” Joyce said.

Barb nodded. “And I sent the kids back home to stay with their father so I wouldn't have anything to distract from the search to find you.”

“I can't imagine surviving in there like you did for a day,” another of the nieces said, “much less …”

“Did you really have enough food to last ten years?” Trent asked.

“You're really okay and everything, aren't you, Mom?” FJ asked.

The room went silent.

“I'm a lot better now that everyone's here,” I said.

And I was.

“But are you okay that we're all talking about what happened?” my sister asked.

“I'm fine,” I said. “To be honest, I'd rather hear about what I missed, though.”

Everyone began to talk simultaneously once again.

“We put posters of you all over Denver,” one of my sister's sons said. “Fort Collins, too.”

“Everything's been on hold while we searched,” Craig said, now holding Wendy's hand.

“Needless to say,” Barb added.

Joyce dabbed her eyes. “To say we've been worried …”

“All of us have been camped out at Bargain Barn day and night,” my sister said.

“I did try keep the boys on something of a normal schedule,” Frank said. “School and practice and such.”

“But it wasn't like we could focus or anything,” FJ said.

“I'm just so glad they caught him.” Trent began to sob. “So glad you're safe, Mom.”

I pulled both boys in to me for another long hug.

We were enjoying a happy group cry when Frank's text pinged.

“It's Anastasia,” he said, looking at his phone. “She says to give you a huge hug and to let you know she's on the air tonight, but she's planning to celebrate with you soon.”

“Which reminds me,” I said giving the boys an extra squeeze. “How did you do on TV without me?”

Trent lifted his head. “Pretty well.”

“By pretty well, he means terrific,” Frank said.

“We did okay.” FJ pulled a DVD from his jacket pocket. “I brought this in case you wanted to see.”

Much as I was loving the hubbub of the family around me, I was delighted when FJ slid the DVD into the player connected to the hospital TV and my boys' handsome faces appeared beside Anastasia as she introduced the segment:

Cyber Monday—the Monday after Thanksgiving—has officially surpassed Black Friday as the most popular holiday shopping day of the year. Last year, according the National Retail Federation, over ninety-six million Americans shopped online during Cyber Monday, surpassing the brick-and-mortar Black Friday retailers by more than fifteen million.

With me today are two young men who belong to the demographic that comprises a large percentage of online shoppers. Coincidentally, they are also the sons of Mrs. Frugalicious and our own Frank Finance Michaels. As you might expect, they have more than a few great online shopping tips as well as some special advice for the under-twenty-five crowd
…

I watched with pride as my boys—both of them smiling a lot more like seasoned professionals than teenagers pressed into last-second, ill-advised servitude on my behalf—began their spiel.

We don't like to shop,
Trent said first.

But when we do
, FJ added,
it's always online.

Taking turns, they proceeded to recite the general Cyber Monday tips I'd provided them and went on to list their top 25 deals of the day on everything from gaming systems and sports equipment to makeup and fashion.

For the ladies
, Trent added with a devilish grin.

FJ wrapped up the segment with a final tip they'd come up with themselves:

While you're busy saving money on all the cool stuff you've been wanting, save a little more by buying discounted gift cards at sites like plasticjungle.com, which can be used to make online purchases.

“Clever, huh?” Mrs. Piggledy said, appearing in the doorway in her wheelchair. Higgledy sat in her lap and Birdie perched on her shoulder.

“Naturals,” Mr. Piggledy said from behind her. “Which came as a surprise to absolutely no one in the Denver Metro area.”

“Thank you for coming,” I said, as the sea of Michaels family members parted to allow them through. Higgledy leapt from Mrs. Piggledy's arms to give me a big hug. “Thank you all for so many things, I can't even begin—”

Frank's phone began to chirp the tune to “Brown Eyed Girl.”

“Eloise!” he said, answering. “Yes, we're all right here with her—”

“Which I've been trying to conveniently overlook,” a nurse said, trying to enter my completely stuffed room and staring pointedly at the monkey nestled against me.

“We're animal therapists.” Mr. Piggledy winked in my direction. “Higgledy and Birdie here are our service pets.”

“Riiight,” she said, drawing out the word. “And the rest of you are?”

“Family,” Joyce announced.

“The family rule is no more than four at a time, not four dozen,” she said. “Besides, I need to draw some blood and take her vitals. I'm afraid this party will have to continue tomorrow after she's released.”

“Are you coming home tomorrow, Mom?” Trent asked.

“If you let her get some rest,” the nurse said, motioning for Frank to finish his call outside and everyone to mosey along.

I was too exhilarated to feel tired, but too exhausted to protest as everyone hugged me goodbye and began to file out.

The minute they were gone, there was a quick needle prick and the squeeze of a blood pressure cuff, and the next thing I knew my eyelids were growing heavy.

I dozed off to Frank smiling from the chair beside me.

_____

When I opened my eyes, it was morning.

Frank was gone.

In his place, however, was none other than Griff Watson.

He smiled his dimply smile. “Hey there!”

“Griff ?” I heard myself ask, as though there was some way I wouldn't recognize the man who'd saved me now, twice.

“Apparently Frank felt it was safe to leave you in my care while he went down the hall to make a few phone calls.”

“I can't tell you how glad I am to see you.” I gave him a big, long hug. “And thank you so much. Again.”

“This time it was a team effort,” he said, humbly.

“Detective McClarkey told me you were the one who finally figured everything out.”

“He did?”

“He also mentioned that you have a big future ahead in law enforcement.”

Griff looked entirely pleased. “Nice to hear.”

“You seem surprised.”

“I guess I didn't expect he'd mention my small part in it all.”

“I'd hardly call figuring out that John Carter lied about being in the TV line a small part. My life depended on someone making that connection and finding him before he disappeared and I was locked away forever.”

“There were a lot of people besides me who were committed to making sure that didn't happen.”

“But you ultimately figured out John Carter was the killer.”

“In the end, he was the one person who not only fit the general description, but knew exactly where his wife was that night at Bargain Barn. Really, all I had to do was check it against the interview he gave down at the station after Alan was arrested and I knew we had our man.

“You definitely have a knack,” I said. “At least when it comes to saving me.”

“No better than your knack for getting in outrageous trouble.”

“Guilty as charged, I'm afraid.”

“Next time, you think you could make it a bit easier for me?”

“How about there isn't a next time?”

“That would be ideal.” He smiled. “But knowing you …”

Maybe it was the simply the enormous affection I felt for him after saving my life twice, but if I were a few years younger and a lot more single, his innate kindness and those dimples might have had a different effect on me.

“All I know is that L'Raine is one lucky girl.”

“L'Raine?” His cheeks colored. “Did she tell you that … ?”

“She didn't have to.”

He looked confused.

“You did,” I said.

“I did?”

“Wasn't she at your house on Cyber Monday—when I called you from Starbucks?”

“At my house?”

“I thought I heard you say something to her about hanging on for a second because you were on the phone.”

“L'Raine?”

“You called her Lare.”

“Ah!” He began to laugh. “I think you must mean Larry.”

I felt my own face color. I'd been reticent to introduce L'Raine to Griff because she didn't strike me as his type, but I hadn't even considered that she didn't have any chance whatsoever. “Larry?”

“Larry,” he said. “As in, my cat.”

“Your cat?”

“He'd climbed up on the couch and was kneading me with his paw.”

I began to laugh too.

“As if I needed another sign this sleuthing business isn't for me,” I finally said. “I really thought you and L'Raine were …”

“She's a nice person and we did have dinner once,” he said. “But that's as far as it went. For me, anyway.”

At least my intuition was right about something. “I kind of didn't think you were a match when she begged me to introduce you two, but then she had your number …”

“So do you,” he said.

“And you were in the gym parking lot when she started her shift.”

“Because I was following you.”

“Me?”

“I was bugged that your heckler had the same initials as Cathy Carter, and I knew you were too, so I decided to keep an eye on you —which I did until you got that note on the windshield and Detective McClarkey pulled rank.”

“And then he took it from there?”

“Officially.” Griff exhaled deeply. “Unofficially, I might have been able to help you figure things out a heck of a lot sooner if you'd just been straight with me about all your suspicions when we talked on Sunday night. Or told me where you were going on Monday after you left Starbucks.”

“I couldn't,” I said. “Not until I confirmed for sure it wasn't—”

“Frank,” Griff finished my sentence.

I nodded.

“For the record, I thought it was him at that point, too.”

“You did?”

“With the combination of his recent track record and the fact he and Channel Three happened to be broadcasting from Bargain Barn that night, it just made sense,” he said. “Until you disappeared. I knew then it wasn't him.”

“Because?”

“Even he wouldn't go that far.”

“Oh good, you're awake!” Frank said, appearing in the doorway before Griff could elaborate. “I'll let the nurse know so we can get you breakfast and hopefully get you sprung from here ASAP.”

“Speaking of which,” Griff said, as Frank headed for the nurse's station. “I should probably get rolling myself.”

“Griff,” I said as he stood to go. “Thank you.”

He hugged me. “Until next time …”

_____

I was that much more thankful and indebted to Griff when I discovered he'd come by with my purse (which according to Frank had apparently been recovered along with my car) and had stowed it in the cabinet with my clothing.

Not only was everything still there—ID, credit cards, cash, lipstick, and even gum—but my cell phone had been charged.