Natural-Born Protector

She picked up her cup once again but, before she could bring it to her lips, she froze. Had she just heard a door open? Her heartbeat quickened, and she thought she heard a furtive movement in the living room.

Had the killer come back?

Sliding out of her seat at the table, she fought the icy chill of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. As quietly as possible, she moved to the drawer that she knew held the knives and grabbed one in her hand.

If she was wrong and nobody was in the condo, then she would chalk it up to an overactive imagination. But if somebody were in the next room, she wouldn’t go in unarmed.

Gripping the knife tightly in her fist, she eased out of the kitchen and into the living room to see a dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl sitting on the sofa.

She swallowed a gasp of surprise and dropped the hand that held the knife to her side. “You must be Maddie,” she said, remembering that Hank had mentioned his daughter.

The little girl nodded, eyeing Melody as if measuring her worth. “My real name is Madeline Renee Tyler. My friends call me Maddie, but I think you should call me Madeline ‘cause I don’t know if we’re going to be friends or not.” She paused a moment. “You aren’t as pretty as Lainie.”

Melody nodded and surreptitiously placed the knife on one of the end tables. “Lainie was beautiful.”

Maddie frowned, her gaze not leaving Melody. “I loved Lainie, but I’m not sure I’m even gonna like you.”

An unexpected burst of laughter welled up inside Melody at the little girl’s brutal honesty. She managed to swallow it. “I’m not at all sure I’ll like you, either.”

“You have to like me.” Maddie lifted her chin a notch. “It’s not polite for grown-ups to dislike little girls.”

Again laughter bubbled to Melody’s lips. “Maybe when we get to know each other a little better we’ll discover that we like each other very much.”

Maddie looked at her dubiously. “Do you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.” Melody sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Well then, that’s a start,” Maddie replied in a voice very grown-up for her age.

“Does your father know you’re here?” Melody asked.

“He was in the shower and I was supposed to be watching cartoons, but I decided I wanted to come and meet you. He won’t miss me. Lainie used to let me drink soda in the morning.” She cast Melody a glance that indicated that this might just be a tiny fib.

“Really? That’s strange. Lainie always liked a tall glass of orange juice first thing in the morning,” Melody replied. Maddie offered her a sly grin, as if she knew she’d been caught. “Maybe we should call your father and let him know you’re here?”

“He’ll know as soon as he sees that I’m gone. Whenever I disappear he always knows I’m here or at Grandma’s. Besides, I’m mad at him.”

Before Melody could ask why the little girl was mad at her daddy, she heard a rapid knock on the door.

Melody got up and opened the door to see Hank. “Hi, is my…” He gazed over her shoulder and spied his daughter. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Melody.

“It’s all right. Come on in, we were just getting to know each other.”

Hank swept past Melody, bringing with him the scent of minty soap and shaving cream. Clad in a pair of navy slacks and a crisp white shirt, he looked in control and amazingly handsome, but definitely irritated with his daughter.

“Give me the key,” he said as he stood in front of Maddie.

Her chin thrust out and she grabbed the key that Melody now saw hanging on a chain around her neck. “But Lainie gave it to me,” she protested, a hint of moisture shining in her eyes.

“I know, sweetie.” Hank crouched down in front of her. “But Lainie isn’t here anymore and Melody is going to sell this place to somebody else, so you can’t have a key anymore.”

Maddie stood up, removed the chain from her neck and handed it to her father as tears filled her eyes. “Why did she have to die?” She glared at Melody. “I don’t want you here. I want Lainie.” She burst into tears and ran for the door.

“Maddie!” Hank turned to Melody, apology written all over his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Melody held up a hand. “Please, don’t apologize.”

He headed for the door. “Look, she has a birthday party to attend later today. You said you wanted to talk to me about your sister. Would two this afternoon work for you?”

“Okay,” she replied.

With another apologetic glance, he hurried after his daughter, and at that moment the phone rang. Melody reached across to the end table and picked up the cordless.

“Have you come to your senses yet? Are you ready to come back here and stay?” Rita said without preamble.

“I never lost my senses, and no, Mom, I’m not ready to come back there. How are you doing this morning?”

“A little better, I think. All the relatives have gone and Fred wanted me to ask you if you’re joining us for lunch. He thought it would be nice for me to get out of the house and he’s offered to take us to Raymond’s. They have wonderful steaks there.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to pass,” Melody replied. “I want to start boxing up some of the things here.” And she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to talk with Hank. She needed to find out if he knew who her sister had been seeing, who might have had a motive to want her dead.

“It shouldn’t take you too long to get things done there. You need to get back to your own life in Chicago,” Rita said. “I’ll feel better knowing that you’re building your own life. Melody, honey, you gave enough to Lainie.”

Yes, she’d given a lot to Lainie, but when her sister had needed her most, she’d been too tired to pick up the phone. “I’ll get back to my life when it’s time, Mom. Don’t worry about me.” She decided now wasn’t the time to tell her mother that she had no intention of going back to her own life until she found out who had taken her sister’s life.

“I’ve never had to worry about you, Melody. You’ve always been wonderfully self-sufficient. And you were always so good with Lainie, much better than I was.”

It was true. Rita had been at a loss when it came to her eldest daughter. She’d done what she could for Lainie, but usually fell apart at the first sign of trouble. Fred had comforted Rita while most often it had been Melody who stepped in to clean up whatever mess Lainie had made.

There would be no more messes, no more scandals, at least none that involved Lainie because she was gone forever. A feeling of loss nearly took Melody’s breath away.

She and her mother small-talked for a few more minutes, then after Melody had promised to have lunch with her mother the next day, they hung up.

Melody wandered back into the kitchen and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then sat down and stared at the lists in front of her.

She’d spend the time between now and when Hank arrived packing up Lainie’s clothes. Even though the two sisters had been close in size, they couldn’t be further apart in styles. Lainie had been flamboyant and Melody much more staid. Melody would donate Lainie’s clothes to a local charity.

She’d also donate the furniture. She had no use for it, nor did her mother. There was no point in paying to have it stored.

There were a few personal items she’d keep, like the Guardian Angel picture that had always hung on the wall opposite Lainie’s bed and a collection of fairy figurines that had been collected over the years. The fairies had been Lainie’s favorite possession and Melody couldn’t imagine anyone appreciating them as she would.

She turned her attention to the list that had been on her mind every moment since she’d arrived in town. Staring at the word Investigation that she’d written across the top of the page, she wished she would have listened more carefully to Lainie’s phone calls in recent weeks.

Most of the time when Lainie called it had been late and Melody had been tired. She’d often listened to her sister’s stream-of-consciousness chatter with only half an ear.

She wished she could go back a week or two and really listen to what Lainie had been saying, listen to whom she’d been seeing and where she’d been going. Somewhere in those conversations there might have been a clue to the killer’s identity.

Drawing a deep sigh, she started a final list and at the top of the sheet of paper she wrote the word Suspects. She needed to stop by the bar where Lainie had worked as a bartender off and on for the past five years. Maybe one of the waitresses or some of the customers would know whom she’d been seeing at the time of her death.