19. Check Engine Light
Chapter 19
Check Engine Light
A fter the holidays, it’s back to business as usual. Only, Maddock is looking after Leonie today. Says he’s training her to be a construction supervisor as they clear the road that leads to the cemetery.
He has big plans for Hogwash and although I think most residents will take kindly, they’ll also yap. Molly has no shortage of gossip to spill even though we’re hardly into the new year. From the sound of it, she’s seeding content for upcoming editions of the Pest Digest.
From the customer side of the counter at Laughing Gator Grille, she says, “So, are you going to enter the recipe contest at the Hogwash Hunt? Your cream brool is really good.”
I want to roll my eyes but resist. Despite her “unique” personality, she has helped me out around here when I’ve had to take care of Leonie, and for that I’m grateful. However, I’ll never let her get behind the wheel of the Porsche, which is now safely parked in the carriage house at the chateau.
I’ve had so much going on, there’s barely been a minute for me to spare to work on the updated menu no less think about the possible connection between Eloise’s cookbook and Hogan’s riddle.
Molly leans in. “Keep this between you and me, but Mrs. Halfpenny was banned after she turned up to the church potluck with a pot of pork and beans with jelly beans mixed in.”
“That’s not so bad.”
From the other end of the counter, Mr. Soto says, “There was also a marble in her meatloaf at the Church Supper last weekend—the glass kind for playing games from when I was a youngin.’”
I wince. Nothing said at this counter is just between Molly and me.
“Ooh, Don’t look now, Mrs. Witt. Mr. Hotcakes and the lion cub are coming in three, two, one.” Molly spins in her stool as if pleased with herself.
“My last name is Hamilton until I say otherwise.” My tone is exactly what Molly would expect from me, but I rather like the way Mrs. Witt sounds. Also, how does she know about our Hotcakes nicknames for each other?
Molly rests her chin in her hand and fiddles with her sweet tea straw. “I was hoping Maddock would fall madly in love with me. Molly and Maddock have a nice ring to it, don’t you think? But I’ll continue to wait patiently for my Prince Charming.”
Before I can respond, Leonie roars upon entry. I scoop her into my arms and play monster, gently nipping at her neck until she dissolves with laughter.
Maddock says, “Hey, that’s my move.”
“Sorry. Stole it.”
He kisses me on the cheek and hopefully, only loud enough for me to hear, says, “That’s not the only thing you stole.” He pats his chest and winks.
I playfully swat him for being so cheesy, but secretly love it and he knows that.
He sits at a table with Leonie in a high chair and orders two BLTs. I don’t register the double order until Antoine tosses Molly an apron.
She ties it on and says, “Lunch break. I’ll take my cream brool payment when you’re done.”
“Did you arrange this?” I ask Maddock.
“Sure did, Mrs. Witt.”
I gasp and stare at him in shock.
He takes a bite of his sandwich as if he didn’t say anything unusual. Does Molly know something I don’t?
I stutter, “Catch up.”
He says, “Ketchup? On my fries, sure.”
“I mean catch me up on what’s going on,” I say, popping one into my mouth.
“Oh, when I asked Molly to start covering your lunches so you could eat, she wanted a scoop. Asked if you’re the future Mrs. Witt.”
“Despite, um, the easing of my stubborn independence, I do have a say in that.”
He smiles. “Of course. Also, there’ve been some developments adjacent to Shady Lane.”
“Do you mean like the construction of a housing development?” I’m not sure what to think of that. I like our rural plot.
He shakes his head. “The bulldozer driver found an old car parked there. Looks like someone is living in it.”
From two booths over, Jesse cranes his head and says, “It’s not Sawyer. He’s staying with Thelma at the Pigs in a Blanket for the time being. Speaking of Mrs.—”
Molly appears like a ghost and asks, “What do you know? Is Sawyer going to propose to Roxy?” she squeals.
Leonie does, too.
I mutter, “Nothing is private in this place, I swear.”
“Any idea whose car?” I ask Jesse.
“Ran the plates. Stolen vehicle out of New Orleans. Trunk full of empty bottles of Fifolet.”
“Figures.” Probably the first of the scavengers for the hunt. Even though it’s waned in popularity in recent eyras, people still turn up.
“No one is going to be dumping their trash—found some of that—oyster shells, or stolen vehicles down that way anymore,” Maddock says with finality.
Leonie claps like she seconds that motion. But something about the car bothers me and not just because we may have a petty criminal on our property. However, I can’t put my finger on what it is.
That evening, after dinner, we take a walk down the newly widened lane that passes the cemetery and leads to the Metairie Stronghold. The sweeping live oaks covering the road were enchanting but the lower limbs and older growth posed a hazard, so now it’s a bit clearer and brighter.
Maddock points to a spot toward the swamp. Minou sits on a rock, licking her paw. “Jesse had that car towed out of here.”
“Good riddance. I wonder if that’s what I was hearing while you were gone.”
“Could be.” We pass the graveyard and he wiggles his fingers. “Or ghosts, zombies, or the crocogator.”
I poke him in the ribs. “Don’t even try to use my devilry against me.”
We both laugh, Leonie too, even though she has no idea what we’re talking about.
Maddock outlines his plans for the area, and I’m warming to the idea because it’ll also mean more business for the Laughing Gator Grille.
When we get back to the house, the sun has sunk behind the trees, casting shadows all around. To an outsider, this might seem a spooky scene, but it’s much improved from years past.
However, I startle when I spot someone sitting on the porch steps that lead to the kitchen. A bottle of Fifolet hangs in her hand. I let out a slow breath like a ghost is stealing it from me.
My voice rasps when I say, “What are you doing here?”
The woman on the steps eyes Maddock and chuckles. “Going after my scraps, huh?”
“What?” I ask, my voice full of venom because Ambrette is unwelcome here.
It’s then I realize Maddock stopped a few steps behind me. His eyes blaze dark and forbidding.
“Hey, Macksie,” she says with a nasty smirk.
He doesn’t move so much as a muscle.
“Don’t act like you don’t know me and don’t be mad.”
His nostrils flare. “Emberly, I suggest you leave now.”
Emberly? This is Ambrette, Queen of Hearts, Babie’s daughter. My cousin.
“What are you doing with my husband?” she barks.
Two things collide inside of me. Ambrette doesn’t ask about Leonie. But does she mean that Maddock is her husband? That can’t be right.
Another thought nearly knocks me over. If that’s the case, could Leonie be his daughter? I stagger backward as I internally freak out, wishing I hadn’t let myself fall for him. This is so on brand for Ambrette to con me. First, by leaving me her child and then getting her partner in crime to fool me into thinking there’s something between us. The details are different, but this certainly isn’t the first time. Gritting my jaw and shaking my head, I’m just not sure how quickly I’ll be able to pick myself up this time.
Maddock steadies me by gripping my elbow. “You okay?”
I jerk my arm away. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
In the past, this would’ve been true. I’d just breeze on by, not letting anything ruffle my feathers. But I am ruffled. Flapped. Not cool and certainly not a cucumber. If I had a baseball bat, I’d smash something.
Trying to hide the battle of emotions raging inside, I ask my cousin, “Did you want to see—?” Never mind all that, I almost can’t bring myself to ask whether she wants to be part of Leonie’s life.
“That’s not why I’m here.” She turns to Maddock. “Macksie, baby. I was wondering if you could help me out.”
Macksie? I mouth.
Nostrils flared, he shakes his head. “I’m wondering if you can explain what is going on.”
Torn between anger and confusion, I say, “I was going to say the same thing.” If I were more of a hospitable southern woman, I’d invite Ambrette inside, pour us some sweet tea, and we’d discuss this—whatever it is—like civilized adults.
I know well enough that she’s anything but.
A pair of headlights shine and Ambrette stiffens. The roof rack on the vehicle reveals it can only be one person. Jesse exits the police SUV. My cousin could make a run for it, but she seems frozen. Like she doesn’t have anywhere to go other than the swamp—not a good idea at dusk.
“Deputy,” Maddock says with a nod.
Jesse gives me a knowing look, but I’m afraid there’s more to the story than delinquent teenagers growing up in a small town. “Ah, the usual suspect. Just who I was looking for.”
Peeved, I throw my shoulders back. I need to take control of the situation and say, “Maddock, meet Ambrette. Would you like to introduce me to your ex-wife?”
He narrows his eyes. “Ambrette? Funny, she told me her name is Emberly Jacobi.”
“Nothing funny about it. More like juicy,” Molly says, exiting the cruiser.
Jesse wears an apologetic expression. “Miss Hazelwood is doing a ride-along. Came out here to check on things after finding the stolen car. Didn’t think we’d walk into a domestic dispute.”
If my cousin is surprised to see he’s a law officer, she doesn’t reveal it, but he’s right about one thing. Wherever Ambrette is, comes trouble. Never fails.
She simpers a smile. “Jesse Break-the-Law-Son. On the other side of the law now, huh?”
“The right side,” he says.
Maddock starts pacing. “I can’t help but feel like this is some kind of small-town setup. Explain what’s going on.”
“It is a small town,” Molly says.
“But I was hoping you were going to do the explaining.” I’m not sure what to think other than Leonie is going to fuss soon ... and apparently, my mother wasn’t lying. In her letters, she said that Ambrette was back in town and had pulled the con of a lifetime—she called it the Brooklyn Bridge Sale, but I’m not sure she sold anything other than a lie to Maddock. Given his surprise and the false identity my cousin gave him, the elements of her scam start to come together in my mind. I should’ve known, but I thought that was all behind me.
Ambrette bats her eyelashes at Maddock. “What can I say, I found myself a hot firefighter.”
His jaw ticks. I bounce Leonie on my hip so she doesn’t fuss, but she reaches for Maddock, her father?
Rapid fire, I ask, “Did you elope? Have a big Southern affair? Is Leonie his?” Possibilities take share in the part of my mind that kept track of my mother’s schemes.
She shakes her head once, twice, and then nods all while wearing a wicked smile.
My cousin is known for doing crazy things—not the most stable member of the family. Then again, none of them were. Mama, Ambrette, and my mother’s twin sister are all on the wrong side of the law. Aunt Babie—short for Babette—committed high-class crimes while Mama preferred to keep it down home. Looks like Ambrette decided to follow in her mother’s footsteps after all.
“Well, isn’t this a real kick in the pants,” I mutter.
Tallula pulls into the driveway and without a word, she takes Leonie and whisks her into the house. Jesse must’ve called backup of the non-officer kind.
Ambrette says, “I’m here because I miss you, Macksie. I thought we could try again.”
He says, “The Titanic lie is sinking. There is still time to jump ship.”
Hands on my hips, I say, “Y’all have about two seconds to start talking or heads are going to roll.”
Maddock, mirroring my posture, says, “I was going to say the same thing.”
Even though I’m stunned beyond belief, and don’t know who’s duping who, we remain a united front. Sort of. Jesse and Molly are also here and I sense that whatever happens, they’ve got my back.
Rising to her feet, my cousin rolls her fingers on the handrail and looks us both over as if assessing who’s more gullible.
“Out with it, Ambrette,” I say, voice low and full of warning.
“Ooh. Look who’s tough now. Sweet little Honey who was too afraid to pull off jobs, all big and bad, making threats.” She snorts.
I fire back, “I wasn’t afraid. What you and my mother were doing was illegal and morally bankrupt.” Okay, maybe I was a little afraid ... of them.
Ambrette glances at Jesse in his sheriff’s uniform. “You were just as involved. I have proof.”
Our deputy sheriff coughs into his hand. “Statute of limitations.”
Meanwhile, Molly scribbles down notes.
Ambrette gestures to the chateau, and then her gaze lands on Maddock. “For starters, none of this is yours.”
As if already annoyed by her antics, he sighs and says, “Do tell.”
She starts pacing. “It was the perfect plan. I had the documents forged. Deven Chandler Esquire isn’t a real lawyer. He and I cooked up?—”
“So we’re living here illegally?” I panic because now I really don’t have anywhere for Leonie and me to go.
Maddock’s nostrils flare. “That whole story about how your great-grandfather started this town or whatever was a lie?”
“Nothing she says is true,” I mutter.
Almost to himself, Maddock says, “Then I’m not the bitter heir.”
“You have no claim unless you have a brother who’s actually related to Tickle,” Ambrette says vaguely.
“Meaning Hogan Tickle had a secret son?” I ask, the historian in me curious.
She smirks, but I can’t tell if this is yet more subterfuge and intrigue—a red herring.
Scowling at Ambrette, Maddock says, “You do realize you just confessed a crime and will soon be behind bars.”
Ambrette’s face falls. I’m more concerned about Leonie than her nonsense, but he’s right. I used to be so used to this type of conversation, even in front of Jesse, I nearly forgot that. But there is something more pressing that I need to know.
My voice is tight when I ask, “Does this mean Maddock is Leonie’s father?”
He presses his hand to his chest as if soothing an ache he hardly let himself acknowledge. “I didn’t think I could have kids.” With a searing look that pins Ambrette in place, Maddock asks, “Is she mine?”
She snorts. “Of course she is. We were married.”
“You weren’t with anyone else?”
“Not that month.” A chuckle escapes that she wasn’t faithful to him.
“Maddock is Leonie’s father?” My breath catches in my throat.
Ambrette laughs. “That’s what you named the baby?”
I scowl. “Answer me.”
“Only if you race me.” I realize why she’s here. Never mind morally bankrupt, she’s run out of treats and tricks. Broke and possibly broken. This is her last-ditch bail-out effort and I’m not going to bite. Back in the day, a race wasn’t just a race, it was a wager—a way to make fast cash.
I say, “You don’t even have a car.”
“You know I was always faster.”
Flames lick my every word when I say, “The only racing I’ll be doing is chasing you out of town.”
Ambrette laughs like I’m joking.
I’d finally buried my old life in the past and had hope for the new one ahead when my cousin had to come back and spook up old ghosts. With Leonie safely inside, I snap—tree limb in a storm style.
One second I’m standing outside, the next I’m behind the wheel of the Porsche and smash through the rotted wooden door of the carriage house—it needed replacing anyway, but who cares? This isn’t even Maddock’s property.
Jesse waves his hands as if to stop me, but his effort is feeble as if to only say he is doing his job—and halfheartedly at that. To my surprise, Molly cheers me on, but probably so she can have more content for the Pest Digest.
Ambrette shrieks as the Porsche’s headlights bear down on her. She runs toward the cemetery. This isn’t an all-terrain vehicle and I stop, chest heaving. My pulse knocks against my bones.
“What got into me?” I ask, eyes burning.
I’m literally chasing Ambrette in my car. This is not who I am. Could be that my personal check engine light is on.
In the rearview mirror, a figure approaches. Maddock can deal with her. This has become all too much. Just as soon as something good happened, it all came crumbling down. Story of my life. I flip around, zoom past Jesse, and down Shady Lane toward Daley’s farm with its wide open golden fields that somehow make the sky seem bigger, but it’s raining. The windshield blurs and not just because of the weather. Tears flow freely and I roar with frustration.
The speedometer climbs and I anticipate police flashers behind me. The rally flags at the end of the strip. Cory pumping his fist in the air. But it’s just me and a few sleepy cows chewing their cud. Those days are over. The flame has gone out. I’m no longer a wild child rebelling against rebellion—of the Luckie and Ambrette variety.
I’m a mother now and while I’d like Maddock to fit into my story, it’s time to let go.
Chest heaving, I catch my breath and then speed back toward town, but instead of returning to the scene of the crime, I stop in front of the clock tower where the time is right twice a day.
I wish Maddock was here. I’d text him but left my phone in the house. I’d apologize, but I didn’t do anything wrong other than have a convict for a cousin, then speed off in a fit, trying to escape that part of my life. Maybe I just needed that one last burst of speed, to prove that I can’t outpace my life, that like a race track, it’ll just loop back around until I deal with my problems ... and I can’t do that alone.
I send up a prayer. The time may not be right, but the time is now to finally let go of all those old ghosts. I see so clearly that Maddock and I were both my cousin’s marks. But she didn’t anticipate her scheme bringing us together. That tells me one thing. We came out on top.
“Hey,” a deep, smoky male voice calls from the darkness. “I’m no sheriff, but I don’t think you’re supposed to park here.”
I rush toward Maddock and stop short. “Where’s Leonie?”
“Safe and sound with Tallula and Molly. They’re making dinner.”
I wince because I don’t entirely trust the latter in a kitchen.
“And Ambrette?”
“You mean Emberly?”
“I wish I could’ve warned you.” My voice sounds raw out here in the rain.
“She had a Queen of Hearts tattoo. I never said her name because I wanted to forget about her entirely, not that it would’ve helped. But now the connections are so clear.”
“Emberly Jacobi. In the past, she also went by Tami Stefani, Jewel Ryder, and others.”
“Is Honey Hamilton your real name?” he asks, gaze landing softly on me.
“On my honor.”
He lets out a breath. “This changes things. We can’t stay at the chateau, but we’ll figure out something.”
My heart beats out a little throb of fear followed by hope as I latch onto his words.
“We?” I ask tentatively.
“You, Leonie, and me.”
I lift my eyes to him, searching his face. “You’re her father.”
“I’m not sure what to think, but the first time I saw her?—”
“The eyes—” we both say at the same time.
He says, “We’ll follow all the legal channels, but whatever the case, I’d like for us to be a family.”
I melt inside. “The only problem with that is you’re a leaper and I’m a tip-toer.”
He juts his chin at the Porsche. “I find that hard to believe given the car you drive. More like a racer.”
“Some people race toward. Others race away.”
Maddock grips my waist. “Which way are you going, Honey?”
I take a deep breath. “Into your arms, if you’ll take me.”
He opens them wide. “I will.”
Before I move, I say, “I’m sorry I ran off. It won’t happen again.”
Understanding ripples across his features. “I know.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls me close and says, “I’ll love you forever if you let me.”
I melt into him and soon our lips meet.
I’m kindling and he just set me ablaze.
Even in the rain.
Maddock’s stubble gently scratches my cheeks, then my neck as he pauses and trails a kiss behind my ear, somehow knowing how that practically makes me purr. I breathe in his cedarwood and smoke scent, moving my hands up his back and looping them around his powerful shoulders to his arms that hold me steady.
Our mouths reconnect and we return to the kiss with a rhythmic give and take. Our breathing turns synchronous, our heart beats too.
Maddock’s rough palms brush along my arms before he laces his hands through mine. My skin tingles and I feel him burning for me.
Nothing can extinguish the flame between us. Not even the rain. But eventually, we part, trading a knowing smile.
Yes, I want him ... to kiss him. To do life with him. He draws me under the portico of the clock tower.
He says, “With the car’s headlights beaming along with the fog and rain, this feels like a scene out of Back to the Future .”
I giggle because he’s spot on. “It was my favorite movie and not because they go back in time. I don’t want anything to do with that. It’s because they go fast.”
“At the speed of light. What’s the Porsche’s top speed?” he asks.
“A shade over two hundred.”
He gawks. “Have you gone that fast?”
“Only on an authorized race track.” Taking a deep breath, it’s time to tell him my last secret. “Aside from aiding and abetting Ambrette and my mother, I wasn’t entirely innocent. My tattoo is of two crossed checkered flags. I’d drag race. Then, shortly after I turned eighteen, a professional recruiter approached me one night at Farmer Daley’s. We called it The Stretch because if you couldn’t get your car up to top speed before the bend in the road, there’d be a bottleneck before it straightened out again and the other driver would crash and burn. It was a particularly tricky spot.”
“Let me guess, you’d nail it.”
I can’t help my smile. “Every time.”
“I’d expect no less.”
“He said I had real talent. Asked me to compete. It was my dream.”
“That’s amazing. You were a professional race car driver? You won that trophy,” he says, referring to the one at the Grille.
“Took regionals and was on my way to nationals, plus lots of smaller races in between.” I shake my head slowly. “Then Cory died. A few years later, my mother was arrested. I promised myself never to scheme or swindle. When the Guidry’s left me high and dry with the restaurant, it was all I had. Taking over the Grille forced my hand. I had to put my head down and focus ... give up my dream.”
“On others, not on racing.”
I nod. “How else was I going to get by? If I made my life small, I’d avoid tragedy.”
“There’s nothing small about your personality.”
I snort a laugh. “I always said I’d go back to the track when ...” My voice drops to a whisper. “When the time was right.”
“Twice a day.” Maddock points to the clock.
A smile slowly blossoms on my lips. “I guess so.”
“Now that I probably don’t own this town, since Emberly, er, Ambrette forged everything, I’m not sure I’ll be in the position to fix it.” He takes a deep breath and adds, “But I don’t want to waste another moment before telling you the truth.”
My stomach leaps into my throat.
Eyes twinkling, he says, “I love you, Honey.”
I expect my breath to falter, to feel twitchy inside. To want to resist. But the fight in me has left, leaving room for only one thing.
“I love you too.”
We seal this moment with another kiss.
When I emerge from the fog of this man’s lips on mine, I say, “Maybe there is treasure in Hogwash after all. But it isn’t hidden away and buried, it’s right?—”
Maddock nods. Once more, our lips meet. Yes, this is the real treasure.