Read Dead End for Free Online

into the sitting room she used as her second office. She held up a hand and smiled apologetically. “Father Cyrus is looking into that,” she said, waving him to the overstuffed red chair that was her own favorite. She rolled her eyes at him. “That’s true, Mr. Girard’s meeting with Father right now. Yes, William, I most certainly will tell you as soon as I hear something. If I hear something. Yes, but I think I can reassure you that the rumors are exaggerated.”
    Cyrus glanced at the common wall between his own office and Madge’s and wondered how things were going with Reb and Marc. Seeing their reaction to one another, he’d had a strong sensation of being an interloper at an intimate encounter.
    “No, William,” Madge said, casting her eyes heavenward. “No, no, no, that is not true. Mr. Girard is not a pimp, he’s an architect…If that’s true I just learned something. I never did hear that architect is rich-people code for pimp. There are no souls in danger because Mr. Girard is in town…I think talking to your daughter that way is a bad idea, not that I think she’ll take any notice. You’d have to catch Martha before you could lock her away, and that isn’t going to happen.” Her smile turned mischievous. “You are so right. This is a job for Father Cyrus, and I’ll have him call you later.” She hung up.
    Cyrus frowned at Madge. He had already made himself comfortable in her chair and now he sank as deeply into the cushions as he could go.
    “Now you’re cross,” she said to him. “I’ll call William back and tell him you have to leave and won’t be around today.”
    “You think I’d have you lie for me?” He raised his head and looked at her down his nose, attempting to be disapproving. He failed. “William, our very own custodian, I take it?”
    “The same,” Madge said. “He saw Marc arrive here, and he’s heard there’s a plan to turn The Majestic into a ritzy house of ill repute.”
    Even men of God could laugh at the ridiculous, and Cyrus laughed until he coughed and got tears in his eyes. “I take it he’s threatening to lock up Martha to keep her safe from the forces of evil?”
    Madge dabbed at her own eyes and drank from a cup of hot tea. Oribel said she wasn’t normal to drink hot tea and called her a chain-tea-drinker.
    A crash sounded from Cyrus’s office, and he and Madge stared at the wall. Madge leaped from her chair and hurried around the desk. “Someone’s in your office,” she said.
    Cyrus caught her arm as she walked past him. “There certainly is someone in there. Two someones. Marc Girard and Reb, and I don’t think they’re comfortable with one another.”
    Madge backed up and sat on the edge of her desk. “Why should she be comfortable with him? He’s too confident, and a whole lot too good-looking for any woman to be at ease with him. Least of all Reb. I don’t remember the last time I saw her with a man. Even if she had the time, she’s not relaxed with ‘em unless they’re sick.”
    “Reb might not take that as a compliment.” Madge’s fervor made him smile afresh. It didn’t stop him from wrangling with his conscience for having left Reb with Marc.
    “They both grew up around here,” he told Madge. “I think they’re old friends, or at least old acquaintances. As in, they may have been really close in the past.”
    “No,” Madge said. She dropped her voice to a whisper and smiled wickedly. “Let me see. Life gets dull around here—there must be something juicy to make out of this. You think they were lovers and there was a breakup, but now Marc’s come back to rekindle the affair? Do you think—” Her eyes became round, and she tiptoed toward the wall. “I need a glass to listen with. That noise in there. What if he’s having his way with her? I wouldn’t want to miss it, would I?” She sniggered.
    Madge’s sense of humor amused Cyrus. “I’m sure that would be titillatin’, but Marc Girard wouldn’t do something