Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay (30 page)

“Maddie, I’m sorry…I only want this nightmare to end for you.” He crossed the room and held her close until he felt her muscles relax and her heartbeat grow steady. She pulled away and sat on the bed, her eyes staring blindly at the wall in front
of her.

“I sometimes just want to stand out in the open somewhere and get this
over with.”

“Don’t
say that.”

“It’s true, Mike. I’d rather look him straight in the eye than be constantly worried that he’s going to pop out of the next doorway. I know you don’t like to hear this, but short of seeing his corpse, I will never feel completely free of him. I don’t know how much more of this cat and mouse crap I can stand.”

“Maddie…” Madeline balled her hands into fists, shaking with rage until the anger and loathing seeped out of her. She looked back at her pillow and thought about trying to get some more sleep, but she knew she would only lie there, her mind whirling. Rather than putting herself through more futile speculation, she opted for getting a jump on
the day.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” she said as she walked over to her dresser. “We need to figure out how to get your car. I guess we could just jog over to the office,” she suggested, her tone brightening at the thought of a short run
at sunrise.

“Sure. I’m game if you are,” Mike replied. Madeline turned and gave him a tentative smile before heading to
the shower.

THIRTY-SIX

“Helen Bagley,” Madeline said, then spelled the last name for the service rep and gave him Helen’s cell phone number. “I need the billing address and the names and numbers of anyone else on this account. Sure, no problem.”

Madeline listened to schmaltzy violin music on the speakerphone while she typed up notes on the expanded Alexander file. Mike was on the other side of the room, busy examining the incident boards for clues they might’ve missed. The rep came back on the line just as Madeline’s cell phone rang.

“It’s Ross,” she said, hand over the office phone. “Sorry, Jason—I’ve got a call I need to take. You can give my partner the information,” she said, as she got out of Mike’s chair and handed him the phone. She hurried to her own office as she took Ross’s call on the
fifth ring.

“Ross?”

“Thank God you answered,” he said, his voice verging
on hysterical.

“What’s
going on?”

“Cherie…she slit her wrists.” Madeline was so stunned, she could
barely speak.

“When?” she asked, her heart thumping against her chest. As thoughts flew frantically through her mind, she had to wonder how she didn’t see this coming. She sank onto the edge of her chair, dismayed by the rampant spreading of mortality in the
Alexander household.

“It was after the cops showed up with a warrant for her arrest. She was in the shower when they arrived. I should’ve never left her alone,” Ross agonized, regret making his
voice quake.

“What time was this?” Madeline asked, abandoning her chair in favor of
pacing aimlessly.

“I don’t know—an hour or
so ago?”

“Is she going to be all right?”

Ross struggled to retain his composure. “I think so. If Elaine hadn’t gone up to check on her.…” His voice quivered as he choked back tears. Madeline waited patiently while he pulled himself together. “She lost a lot of blood…” Again Ross went silent while he battled for control. Madeline fought the urge to offer groundless reassurances, sensing they would sound shallow
and useless.

“She collapsed in the shower and was unconscious by the time I got there,” Ross said after a few ragged breaths. “I should’ve known better than to drop that bomb and leave her unattended. I could’ve lost her,” he said, his voice
cracking again.

“Did she say why she did it?”

Ross cleared his throat before answering. “She couldn’t face going to jail. She said she’d rather die.” This bulletin hit Madeline hard. She sank back into her chair, her skin prickling with fear. Had her instincts about Cherie been so wrong? It was hard to deny how badly this looked for her. It was tantamount to an admission
of guilt.

“Did she confess to killing your mother?”

“No. She didn’t say anything about my mother. She just begged me to not let them take her to jail. I don’t know if she’s even focusing on the more imminent threat of being arraigned on murder charges…” Ross’s voice trailed off for a moment. Madeline sat silently, trying to assess the situation and what her next course of action should be. Mike came in and sat down across from her. She put the phone
on speaker.

“Have you been in contact with Liz Sweet?”
she asked.

“Yes, she called right after we got to the hospital. She had just gotten word that a judge had signed a warrant for Cherie’s arrest. She couldn’t believe they had gotten there so fast, on a Sunday morning, no less. I can’t believe any of this. I don’t know how things can get any worse…” he said, his voice
turning raspy.

“What can I do to help?” Madeline asked. Ross took a few seconds to regroup
before answering.

“Tell me you have proof my wife didn’t kill my mother.” Madeline looked up at Mike. So far, all they had for proof was Madeline’s strong belief that Cherie wasn’t a murderer. That optimistic hunch was looking iffier by the minute.

“I wish I could, but we’re still poring over the evidence. It’s sometimes hard to prove a negative. In this case, that’s what we’re trying to do. It will be the prosecution’s job to prove she’s guilty, and everything they’ve got so far
is circumstantial.”

“That’s basically the same thing Liz told me,” Ross said, discouraged.

“But Mike and I are also trying to find out who
is
responsible. That’s something the police or the District Attorney won’t be doing. That’s really the only way to prove Cherie’
s innocence.”

“I hope to God you can,” Ross said skeptically. Madeline shot Mike an inquiring look. Mike arched his brows, which Madeline took as a
good sign.

“Is there anything I can do in
the meantime?”

“I hate to take you away from your job, but Cherie asked for you on the way to
the hospital.”

“Do you think they’ll let me
see her?”

“I’ll find out and let
you know.”

“What about the
arrest warrant?”

“Liz has a call into the D.A., but she says Cherie’s suicide attempt will probably make her look even guiltier in the eyes of the law.” Madeline and Mike exchanged
worried glances.

“Are you going to stay at the hospital?” she asked. She barely recognized Ross’s voice when
he responded.

“Yes. I’m going to be here,” he said. He sounded as though he were the last man standing after
a massacre.

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” Madeline said. Ross hung up without
a reply.

“
What happened?”

“The cops came with a warrant for Cherie’s arrest while she was taking a shower. Rather than facing the humiliation of spending a whole day and night in the county jail, she slit
her wrists.”

“Oh, Christ,” Mike said, shaking his head mournfully. “How much worse can
it get?”

“Don’t ever ask that question,” Madeline said as she gathered her things together. “I’m going to walk down
to Enterprise.”

“
What for?”

“To rent a car,” Madeline said, more snip in her voice than she intended. “I can’t have you shuttling me all
over town.”

“
Why not?”

“Because you’ve got more important things to
attend to.”

“Fine. But you’re not walking there,” Mike said, his tone intractable as he held up his keys.

“It’s just a few blocks from here,” Madeline protested. “It’ll take twice as long to drive there.” Mike stood there mutely, arms folded across his chest. “Oh, for God’s sake. Okay, fine—we’ll take the slow boat. At least then you can tell me what you found out about Helen on the way there.”

To underscore her resentment at being hung up by Mike’s compulsive desire to protect her, Madeline was already halfway down the hall by the time he emerged from their office. Mike let out an amused snort as he locked the door
behind them.

“You’re lucky you’ve got me to worry about your safety,” he said, loud enough for her to hear. Madeline just bobbed her head back and forth as if she had heard it all before and wasn’t impressed. Mike put his long legs into service and caught up with her as she alighted from the
bottom step.

“You were right about Helen’s son,” Mike said as he scanned his car for tracking devices and other signs of tinkering. It struck Madeline how curious Mike’s actions must appear to passersby. He was so used to the routine by now, he didn’t give it a thought. Fortunately, there weren’t many people around. For the sake of thoroughness, he insisted they do a visual inspection of the two dozen or so vehicles in the lot to root out any suspicious characters. Madeline couldn’t argue against his diligence, though she did resent the loss of
precious time.

“Right about him how?”
she asked.

“He is on Helen’s cell
phone plan.”

“But no Social for him, right?” Madeline asked while Mike stowed his equipment in
the trunk.

“No, but he was the only Trevor Bagley that came up on a criminal records search in
this state.”

“Oh,
do tell…”

“Three arrests—one for shoplifting and two for possession with the intent to sell.” Madeline wore an expression of
startled delight.

“That would be
three strikes.”

“It would’ve been, but one of the charges
was dismissed.”

“Did he serve any time?” Madeline asked as she fastened the seat belt.

“Hard to tell. I need to do some more research. I did get a DOB and a LKA
for him.”

“Good,” Madeline said, her mood lightening as they proceeded out of the lot. “He’s pretty young to have such a record, isn’
t he?”

“Born March 22, 1991.”

“That makes him twenty-two. What’s his last known address?” Mike fished around in his shirt pocket and handed her the slip of paper with
his notes.

“Port Hueneme. Hmm.”

“‘Hmm,’ what?” Mike asked, hazarding a glance at his partner as he turned left onto De
La Vina.

“Just curious, that’
s all.”

“
About what?”

“About Ms. Prim having a bad boy for a son. Ross mentioned something about him getting into trouble, didn’
t he?”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder if he ever lived in Helen’s cottage on
the estate.”

“It might be worth knowing,” Mike said, but he could tell Madeline was too distracted by her own thoughts to have
heard him.

“What’s the plan, then?” he asked as he made another left onto Cota Street. It took Madeline a moment to focus on
the question.

“Ross will be there when I go to see Cherie at the hospital. I’ll try to do a little discreet digging. I’ll let you know if I learn anything significant. What’s
your plan?”

“I guess I’ll go back to the office and see what else I can uncover about the Bagleys, mother
and son.”

“All right, sounds good,” Madeline said as Mike pulled into the
Enterprise lot.

“Maddie, why don’t you take my car and I’ll
rent something?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to need a car anyway. Who knows when I’ll get mine back, and if it’s
even drivable.”

“If you take mine, you can get on your way quicker.” Madeline took a few seconds to consider the offer. Mike’s early 60s convertible was a classic gem, but she was used to modern technology, like GPS and Bluetooth. Going through the rental process might slow her down on the front end, but she’d feel more efficient in the
long run.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll call you later,” she said as she closed the door.

“Maddie, wait!” Mike hollered. Madeline caught herself mid-stride and made an about-face, doing her best to conceal
her annoyance.

“What?”

“Be very careful,” he warned.

“I’m going to be in a hospital, one that’s very hip to security risks,” she said, hoping that would
placate him.

“Where are you going after
the hospital?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said, starting to resent Mike’s
overprotective inclinations.

“Be sure you call me when you leave there. Don’
t forget.”

“I won’t. I promise,” she said, moving closer to Mike’s car to let another vehicle pass. “I’ve got to go,” she said, eyeing the growing line at the rental counter. “Stop worrying. I’ll
be fine.”

Madeline exited the freeway at the Pueblo Street off-ramp. From a block away, she could see that word of the latest calamity to befall Ross Alexander’s family had already gotten the attention of the media. There was such a crush of reporters and their accompanying relay vans, two patrol cops were on the scene trying to keep the mob from entering the hospital and tying up traffic
around it.

Madeline crept along, waiting her turn to cross the intersection. A sinking feeling came over her as she imagined how two murders and a suicide attempt involving show business elite would monopolize quasi-news programs for months to come. She had a flash of her own headline shocker after the salacious details of her fall from grace were picked up by the media, thanks to her video-recorded rape being unleashed on the internet. The subsequent bombshells of murder, attempted murder and embezzlement turned her life upside down and inside out for longer than she could stand to remember.