Page 32 of Call Back

“Magnolia Steele,” she said in a brisk tone. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Because I’m not late?”

Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile, but her grim expression quickly slipped back into place. “At least you’re dressed appropriately.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Except for your necklace. Don’t you find it crass to wear the very thing you were named after?”

“No,” I said, reaching for it. “It was a gift and it’s beautiful. And it’s not like it’s gaudy. It’s barely a half-inch in diameter.”

She studied me for a second before a pleased look filled her eyes. “Your choice.”

Was that a test?

She grabbed a plastic tote of cleaning supplies and thrust it at me. “I expect you to have the living room and dining room dusted and the wood floors on the first floor cleaned within an hour and a half, and then I have another job for you.”

I stared at her in surprise. “You don’t want me to clean the powder room or the kitchen?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but—”

“You may get started now. I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” she said, walking toward the staircase. “But I see no reason why you should need me. Even a simpleton could clean a house without special instructions.” Then I heard her footfalls on the stairs.

I couldn’t help grinning. Somehow I’d gotten used to the cranky woman and actually found her antics amusing, although I suspected that might change after I told her I needed to leave by one forty-five to eat lunch with my mother.

The great thing about cleaning was it was a mindless job, giving me lots of time to come up with a plan for how to continue my investigation. I didn’t want Belinda to know what I was up to, so it seemed safest to focus on the past. Maybe Momma would be willing to talk about Daddy now that Morrissey and Lopez were no longer threats.

I still hadn’t heard from Colt, but I told myself not to worry yet. He was probably still sleeping.

I had dusted the living and dining rooms—which took longer than expected, given all the knickknacks—and started mopping the floor when I heard banging at the front door. I cast a glance upstairs, briefly wondering if I should tell Ava. I didn’t know if she’d want me to answer it, but the increasingly persistent knocking made up my mind for me.

I opened the door, shocked to see Brady’s stern face.

“Brady,” I gasped.

He reached out and tugged me to his chest. “You just scared the shit out of me.”

I pulled loose and looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been calling and texting you for over an hour, and you never answered.”

I pointed my thumb behind me toward the kitchen. “I left my phone in my purse. I didn’t think Miss Ava would want me carrying my phone around.”

“Magnolia’s correct,” Ava said from behind me, making me jump a little. “She’s here to clean my house, not dawdle on the phone.”

“This is police business,” Brady said, his jaw tight.

“Oh, is it?” Ava asked in a haughty tone. “Are you here about Emily Johnson’s murder?”

“What?” I breathed out as my vision blackened and my knees started to buckle.

Brady quickly caught me, holding me to his chest. “Maggie.”

I tried to answer, but I was too shocked to respond. Emily and I had been nemeses in high school, but she’d become friends with my mother after I left town, filling the void in her life. As a favor to my mother, she’d served as my attorney while I was a person of interest in the Max Goodwin case. She’d suspected there was more to my story of why I’d abandoned Franklin after graduation, but she hadn’t gotten any further than suspecting.

I remembered the text I’d received in the middle of the night.

I left you a present to help you remember.

My stalker had done this. He’d killed Emily. Because of me.

---