Page 15 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

Chapter Five

Changes

M adison Taylor was considered one of the most talented students at FIT. She had a knack for mixing and matching patterns that would not normally go together and experimenting with color. Everyone agreed she had a bright future ahead of her. Until she got the call from her mother.

“Madison, honey. I want you to listen very carefully. Do not ask any questions. Just promise you will do what I ask.” Gwen’s voice was strained but steady.

“Mom? What’s going on?” Madison rarely heard her mother sound rattled, but she could hear cold, tense fear.

“Your father has been arrested . . .”

“What?” Madison shrieked. “What do you mean, arrested?”

“Madison, please, just listen to me,” Gwen said evenly. “The U.S. Marshal service was at the house with a search warrant. They confiscated all my jewelry and whatever cash we had.”

“Can they do that?” Madison was stunned.

“Apparently so. They are seizing assets, so he cannot dispose of evidence or ill-gotten gains.”

“What ill-gotten gains?” Madison was having a challenging time processing this bizarre information.

“Please, just let me finish, and we can talk later.” Gwen let out a big sigh. “It has something to do with fraud, mishandling of funds.”

“But he didn’t go to trial yet, right?” Madison insisted on asking questions.

“Madison, please. No, not yet, but they think he is a flight risk.”

“What about his lawyer?” Madison kept pushing.

“Sidney said that I should get out of town before the press starts stalking me for information. His arrest is going public as we speak.”

“Where are you?” Madison asked.

“I’m at the airport.”

“Where are you going?” Madison’s eyes welled up.

“Wherever the next flight is going out of JFK.”

“What about Lincoln?” Madison’s thoughts were in disarray. “What about the apartment? Where can we go?”

“You can go to the house and collect some clothes. There is a U.S. Marshal in the lobby. Show him your identification, and he will escort you to the apartment. I must warn you; he will be watching every move you make.” Gwen paused. “You and Lincoln should go together. For moral support.”

Madison was nodding at the phone and taking notes. “Maybe I can crash at Olivia’s for a few nights.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea. You do not want her privacy to be compromised.”

“Good thinking,” Madison responded.

Gwen continued, “Use the credit card attached to my account and get a hotel room. Lincoln, too. As soon as I can figure things out, I will let you know. But for the next few days, I will be out of reach.” Gwen was breathless.

“You might want to contact your grandmother and stay with her and Pop-Pop this weekend. I should have more information by then.”

Madison thought this must be a bad dream. “Mom? I love you.”

“I love you too. You and Lincoln are all that matter to me, and I want you to be safe from gawkers and the press and who knows what. From what Sidney told me, there are a lot of incredibly angry clients, and I don’t want them harassing you.”

“Okay,” Madison regrouped. “I will call Nana and tell her to expect me and Lincoln this weekend. Please be careful.”

“You too, my sweet, darling daughter.” Gwen ended the call.

Madison stared at her phone for a good, long time.

Why was this happening to her family? Then it dawned on her that she was less surprised than she should have been over her father’s arrest. When she was a child, her father was aloof.

Distant. It wasn’t until she was in high school and took a basic psychology class at Hackley, that she was able to put a name to his behavior: detached .

She was grateful for the love and affection her mother demonstrated toward her and her brother, and the clandestine outings she planned for her children to spend time with their real friends.

Now, at twenty, she was able to see past the posh and protected life she had grown accustomed to.

She and Lincoln thought their lives were normal until they were old enough to distinguish one’s version of normal from another.

In any case, having your father sitting in jail for fraud was not normal.

Madison checked the Cartier tank watch her mother had given her when she graduated from high school.

She wondered if getting a five-thousand dollar watch at age eighteen was normal, too.

She then realized she had a lot of real-life learning to do, because her life at that moment was a real-life nightmare.

She had a class in an hour and decided to check in with her brother and grandparents before she did anything else. Lincoln answered on the second ring.

“Maddie! I just got off the phone with Mom. What is going on? Dad’s in jail? What happened?” His questions were rapid-fire.

“Did she explain anything?”

“Not really. Just that she was at the airport, Dad got arrested, and you and I must go to the apartment and get some clothes.” Lincoln was always on an even keel, but this threw him for a loop.

“We can’t stay at the house.”

“Why not?”

“I will explain later. What time are you finished with your classes today?”

“Three.”

“Okay. Good. Meet me at the house at three thirty. Bring your ID.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to show it to the marshal who will escort us up to the apartment.”

“Okay. Wow. This is blowing my mind,” Lincoln replied.

“Mine too. I will see you at three thirty. And Lincoln? Do not speak to anyone. Mom thinks as soon as this news breaks, the press will be all over us with questions.”

“Okay. Gotcha. See you later. Love ya.”

“Love you more.” Ever since they were children, they always signed off with an expression of affection.

Madison had been sitting in the student lounge when the disturbing call came from her mother.

She looked around to see if anyone might have heard her conversations.

There were several contemporaries a few yards away, deep in their own dialogues.

None of them had taken any notice. She quickly gathered up her portfolio and made a beeline to her next class, constantly checking over her shoulder for any paparazzi.

She kept repeating “No comment” to herself.

That was the only answer she planned to give anyone: friends, acquaintances, or foes.

She’d throw in “family emergency” if necessary.

But there was one person she really wanted to talk to.

It was her best friend, Olivia. But should she?

She debated the question as she hurried to class.

Her cell phone rang. It was Olivia. Was it possible Olivia knew what was going on?

Would her mother have told Olivia’s mother?

Madison didn’t know if she should answer it, so she decided to let it go to voicemail.

She arrived at her seat breathless. “You alright?” her teacher asked.

“Huh? Oh, yes. I thought I was going to be late.” Madison leaned into the back of the chair.

Surely no media would be storming the classroom.

After all, it wasn’t she who had been arrested.

Madison wondered how quickly news traveled.

She was sure she would find out by the end of the day, or when she and Lincoln showed up at the apartment.

Her professor looked at Madison again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Huh? I’m sorry. I’m a little distracted.

Family stuff.” There. That was good enough.

Her professor would surely find out during the evening news, and then there would be no escaping the questions.

Another troubling thought occurred to her.

What if she had to move out of town? No.

It wouldn’t be that bad. After her father’s story, the media would be on to the next one.

She took a deep breath and convinced herself that the frenzy would eventually blow over, and life would go back to—what?

Normal? Now there was something that would remain to be seen.

What about her mother? She would be taking the brunt of the questions.

What if she got arrested, too? Madison knew her mother would be questioned eventually.

Would the authorities view Gwen’s leaving as a sign of guilt?

Madison tried to maintain a level of optimism.

Sidney would have given her mother advice.

But what was the advice? Beat feet? Madison made a mental note to phone Sidney between classes.

As classmates began to fill the room, Madison knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything.

The “family issue” thing would work on her professor.

She decided to take a chance and got up from her chair.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Clarkson. Do you think I could be excused from class today?”

“You said there were family issues?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not discuss them right now.” She nodded toward the growing number of students.

“I understand. Of course you can be excused. You know what this week’s assignment is, correct?”

“Yes. A collage.” For some reason, saying those words gave her hope.

It reminded her of the time when she and her mother bonded over torn pages from magazines, poster boards, and Elmer’s.

Madison made another mental note: Find the colarge.

She chuckled to herself, recalling how she mispronounced the word.

Funny how the memory of one small incident sticks with you.

It was also a moment when she made up her mind to articulate and pronounce words properly.

Madison was not a precocious child. She imagined some people may have thought she was.

To be more accurate would be to say she was observant and tenacious. Nothing wrong with that .