Madge grinned back, wiping her hands down dark jeans and taking a seat. “Thanks for seeing me. I’m not sure about taxes and whether or not we can write off the trip we took back East.” She’d pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail, and her face was free of makeup. Her husband, Sam, had inherited the family business along with his brother about two years ago. “You know we have to do everything just right since Sam’s brother is a prosecutor who owns half of the business.” Bloodshot brown eyes glanced at the walls. “Oh, I like your horse painting.”
“Thanks.” Western art had always been one of her interests. “So did you bring receipts?”
“Yes.” Madge dug into a large backpack, yanking out a stack of tattered receipts. “Uh, they’re not in order.”
“That’s okay.” Compared to the tattered papers from the strip club earlier, these were pristine. Josie tapped them into a neat pile. She needed to find the right words to tell Madge about the discrepancies in the files.
“So”—Madge leaned forward—“I, uh, have a weird question for you.”
So long as it didn’t deal with strippers or writing off golf clubs, it wouldn’t be the weirdest question of the day. “Fire away.”
Madge cleared her throat. “Hypothetically, if Sam and I split, do I get half the business?”
Josie sat back, mind whirling. The tick-tock of the antique clock on her desk sharpened. “Oh, Madge. Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Madge crossed her legs and settled into the seat. “But a girl should always plan.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Josie smoothed hair away from her face. “Well, the short answer is no. Washington is a community property state. An inheritance is separate—not community—property, and since Sam inherited his half of the business, it’s technically not yours.”
Madge grimaced. “Yeah, that figures.” She rolled her neck. “So did they find out who broke into your offices?”
“No, not yet.” Josie kept waiting for the phone to ring or the police to show up. Somebody had to have discovered Billy by now. Didn’t a body start to smell really bad at some point? Not that he hadn’t already smelled.
Josie focused on Madge, trying to forget that terrible day. “But I want to reassure you that your file was with me that night, as was my laptop, so nobody obtained your financial records.”
“Thank goodness.” Madge leaned back with a sigh. “Things are so stressful between Sam and his brother, you know? I mean, if any of the financial stuff got out, we’d be screwed.”
Josie frowned. “So you’re aware that there are financial issues with your account.”
Madge nodded, reaching into her bag. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of why I’m here.” She lifted out a small silver handgun. Her nose wrinkled. “I’m really sorry about this.” Her elbow tucked into her stomach and kept the weapon hidden from anyone in the hallway.
Fear slammed into Josie’s stomach. She leaned back and away from the weapon. “What the hell?”
Madge’s eyes glittered. “Well, we were working with Billy, and everything was fine, until he went to rehab.” Her lips tightened white. “I guess he found religion. Or a conscience or something.” She stomped her foot and cackled out a laugh. “Moron.”
Josie shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, well… before Sam and me inherited the hardware store, we, uh, kind of were helping this guy named Max Penton with his business.” Madge’s eyes flashed a wild blue.
“Which was?” Josie could scream and duck under the desk, but would Madge shoot Vicki if she came running? Or Shane?
“He sells meth. A lot of it.” Madge picked at a scab on the hand holding the gun. “But not to kids. Never to kids.”
Was the woman on something? Josie forced anger away. She needed to focus. Shane wouldn’t have been worried by the sweet-looking Madge; he wouldn’t come check on her. Pudgy Madge looked softer than Josie. “So Billy helped you break the law?”
The gun wavered. “Yeah. The guy would do anything for meth. Actually, he showed us how we could take the money from helping Max and make it look like it came through the business. A way to keep the money from Sam’s brother.” She snarled. “You have no idea what it’s like working your ass off every day. Everything goes to his brother. The favorite one—the prosecutor. Asshole.”
Crazy. The woman was bat shit crazy. “So Billy taught you how to launder money.” How deep did Madge’s resentment go toward her brother-in-law?
“Yeah. Billy had the extra ledger so we could keep track and give the good receipts to his brother. We hid the extra money in off-shore accounts—and Billy used the accounts of his other clients without their knowledge.” Madge hissed and spittle bubbled at the corners of her mouth. “But then Billy went to rehab, and you got the ledgers.” Light glinted off the steel barrel of the gun as she gestured. “I’m due this money. I deserve it.”
Josie’s shoulders bunched with the need to duck to the floor. The knitting needles in her bottom drawer wouldn’t be enough protection from a gun. There had to be some way to reason with the lunatic. “You know Billy’s dead, right?”