Mad Love: Madison (17 page)

Madison
leaned against the wall and watched as Ethan loaded his gun and aimed at the
target at the end of the firing range.

She couldn’t have asked for a better teacher, patiently
explaining how to load, handle, and care for the weapon before giving her a
private demonstration at the virtually empty firing range.

There was just one problem. She was hopeless. She
could read and analyze a lengthy court opinion, recite the elements to a dozens
of different legal issues, and synthesize legal information within seconds, but
she seemed to have difficulty remembering anything he said while instructing
her.

She knew what the problem was. Every time he came
close, she became overwhelmed by good old-fashioned lust.

The man was beautiful. All she could think as he
fixated his dark blue eyes on her was that if her law professors had looked
anything like him, she would have failed all of her classes.

She nodded her head in amusement as he showed her
once again how to reload the gun. She had to stop this. She was paying far more
attention to how he looked and the way he moved than what he was doing with the
gun. Even now, as she stood behind him, watching as his shoulders tensed when he
brought up the gun and shot at the paper target down at the end of the range,
she was finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying to her.

It was rather amusing to her that she could
probably describe in great detail the cut of his suit, the way his dark hair
curled around his collar, how wide his shoulders were and just how narrow his
waist was, but she couldn’t say what the gun in his hand was.

What did he say about it? Was it a .45? No, he
said it was a Beretta M9 or something like that.
She couldn’t even
remember if it was black or gray.
Concentrate
,
Madison
, she
scolded herself. She dragged her gaze away from his back and forced herself to
look at the gun in his hands.

He fired until his gun was empty, then quickly
reloaded before gesturing for her to take his place in front of the range. He
moved to the side and pressed a button causing the paper target he had been
shooting at to come flying towards them.

She narrowed her eyes as the target came closer.
A cluster of holes dotted the middle of the paper.

“See, that’s all it takes,” Ethan said as he sent
a new paper target down to the end of the range. “Do you think you’re ready?”

Madison nodded as she took her place in front of
the target.

He came around to stand at her back just barely
touching her as he placed her hands around the gun. “Widen your stance a bit,”
he instructed as he showed her how to hold the gun. “Just point at the target
and squeeze the trigger.” He adjusted her hearing protection gear and then
patted her shoulder.

She jumped slightly as the gun discharged and
then peered down the range. “Did I hit it?” she asked pulling the hearing
protection device down around her neck.

“Well…” he said with an apologetic grin, “you hit
something.”

He came to stand closer until she could feel the
heat radiating off his body. He grabbed her elbows and lifted her arms until
they were pointed at the target. “Okay, try it again,” he said before going to
stand next to her.

“Okay,” she said readjusting her gear.

This time, she was prepared for the way the gun
recoiled when she pulled the trigger. What she wasn’t prepared for was the
intense way Ethan stared at her as she fired off a couple of more shots. Her
lips quirked up as she moved one of the earpieces out of the way. When he did
the same, she asked, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“I can’t concentrate with you standing there.”

He smiled as he took a step behind her.

She started to fire off another shot when she
felt him move behind her. His hands reached out and held her arms. “Is this
better?”

Much better
, she thought as her eyelids fluttered
shut.

“Madison.”

“What?”

“The target. Shoot,” he ordered with a chuckle as
he readjusted her hearing gear.

“Right.” She started to press the trigger but
hesitated as he stepped slightly off to the side.

She pressed the trigger again and then sighed in
frustration.

The target didn’t even move.

Madison dropped her hands until her gun was
pointing at the small table in front of her. She slipped off the glasses and
the hearing protection gear and set them down next to the gun.

“Have you given my suggestion any more thought?”
Ethan asked.

 “I can’t leave, Ethan. I have work to do. I
might be able to take a couple of days off if I rearrange my schedule.” She
frowned. “I shouldn’t have to rearrange my schedule because of him. If I change
things around, I’m letting him win.”

“Don’t think of it that way. The only way he will
win is if he hurts you.”

“Ethan, what good will running away do? He’ll still
be waiting here when I get back.” She gave him a sly look. “I liked your other
idea much better.”

His eyebrows rose suggestively as he leaned
against the wall. “Well, good, I was hoping you would.” He slipped behind her
closer than before, causing Madison to close her eyes and lean back against
him. “It’s not everyone who gets their very own personal bodyguard,” he whispered
in her ear.

“Well, I…” Madison breathed in deeply, trying to
steady her suddenly racing heartbeat. “I, um, I…” She lost her train of thought
as his lips slid along her neck. Despite her overwhelming desire to lean into
him, she forced herself to lean forward. She shook her head slightly to clear
it. “I just thought that since you’re an expert in security that you would be
the best person to have around.” She put the protective gear back on. Taking
aim, she pressed the trigger several times in a row until the gun was empty.

While she removed the gear again, Ethan pressed
the button and brought the target forward. He pulled the target sheet off the
rack and showed it to her. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” she asked looking at the sheet of
paper in dismay. “I only hit it once.”

“But you got him in the heart. Sometimes, all it
takes is one good shot.”

They glanced at her purse lying in the corner of
the floor as her cell phone began to ring.

“Your phone’s ringing,” Ethan announced. When she
made no move to answer it, he looked at her strangely. “Aren’t you going to get
that?”

“Nope.”

“What if it’s him?”

“I’m not playing his sick twisted little game
anymore,” she said.

“You have to answer it.”

“Why? I know how to count.”

“I want to talk to him.”

She glanced at her purse as the phone died down.
“Maybe tomorrow.” She reloaded the gun. “Did you find out anything interesting
last night?”

“Not really. Most of the things Quincy had in
storage were just some old paperbacks and clothes. He did have a box of old
cases that he had been working on. I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon
going through it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone,
which was softly vibrating. Madison took another sheet of paper and set it up
on the rack, trying not to eavesdrop on Ethan’s conversation. Not that it mattered
since his end of the conversation mostly consisted of
hmm
,
uh huh
and
I see
. It wasn’t until she caught the worried look he was giving her
that she realized she was a major subject of the conversation.

She waited anxiously until he finally ended his
call.

“Problem?”

“You know that newscast you saw the other day
about the abandoned building outside of town?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“They weren’t really reporting about a condemned
building. They were reporting on the body they found inside the building.”

“Whose body?”

“Quincy Sullivan’s.”

12:26
P.M.

Madison
stood next to Ethan in the police station waiting for the detective responsible
for investigating the body in the building to meet with them. She twisted her
fingers as uniformed officers bustled by.

Ethan slipped his arm around her waist and brought
her closer. “Relax, Madison.”

“How can I relax? Are you sure they said the dead
guy’s name was Quincy R. Sullivan, Jr.?”

“That’s what the guy said.”

“It can’t be Quincy’s body they found. They found
the body on the twenty-third. Quincy called me last night. How could he have
called me if he was already dead?”

Ethan didn’t say anything. He just held her
tighter until the detective came and led him to a small desk located in a much
larger room. Madison glanced at the detective’s nameplate before sitting down
in a cold metal chair next to the desk. Before Detective Kim could sit down,
Madison launched into an account of everything that had been happening the last
few days.

He held up his hands. “I’ve already looked at the
report you gave last night. In fact, I was just about to call you. You reported
to the officer that Quincy Sullivan’s been calling you for the last few
nights?” At her nod, he said, “Are you sure it’s not someone who sounds like
him?”

“I don’t think so. I’m almost positive it is Quincy’s
voice on the other end of the line.”

He looked at her strangely for a moment before
turning to a file on his desk.

“How did he die?” Madison asked softly.

“Someone wrapped a plastic bag over his head,”
the detective said, watching her closely.

Ethan took her hand and squeezed it gently as she
began to cry. “How did you find his body?” he asked.

“Some woman, who claimed to be psychic, called the
news station and told them that a man had been buried alive behind a wall in
the basement of the old Berkshire Sanitarium a long, long time ago. She didn’t
pinpoint his exact location, but said that they’d find some personal items,
including a picture of the deceased, behind the old boiler. One of the
reporters was apparently bored and decided to check it out. Sure enough, the reporter
found a picture, a ring, and a couple of other items right behind the boiler.”
A small grimace passed over the detective’s face. “He also found a bottle with
a finger inside.”

Madison felt sick. She closed her eyes as a wave
of nausea passed over her. When Ethan gently gripped her hand, she held onto
his fingers tightly, thankful he was here with her. “What happened then?”

“The reporter called us. We found the body a few
hours later, but it wasn’t until the news program flashed that picture that they
had kept from us across the screen that I realized who had been buried behind
the wall.”

“Quincy Sullivan,” Ethan said.

The detective nodded somberly. “The coroner just
confirmed a few hours ago that it was him.”

“You couldn’t tell?” she asked.

“He was too badly decomposed. It seems he’s been
in there for several months.”

Madison dropped her chin to her chest. She clung
tighter to Ethan’s hand as she blinked back the tears that sprung to her eyes.

Detective Kim’s voice grew hoarse. “Quincy was a
good guy. A good detective. Whoever’s calling you must be mimicking his voice.”

She wiped away a tear. “Or it’s a recording.”

“What makes you think that?” the detective asked.

“Whenever I answer the phone there’s complete silence,
then the gasping for air starts and then he speaks. Then just afterward, all
sounds stop. No gasps in pain. No wheezing. Nothing.” She looked up, trying to
bring her emotions under control. “Paul must have recorded him speaking before
he killed him.”

“You seem convinced this Paul Harris is behind
everything. Why?”

“I’m representing his wife in their divorce.”

“That’s a reason to go after you. Why pick on old
Quincy?”

“Vanessa hired Quincy to find out whether Paul
was cheating.”

Detective Kim wrote down Paul and Vanessa’s name.
“Okay, I’ll check him out. Is there anyone else you can think of who might have
something against Quincy?”

She shrugged. “He was a detective. I’m sure he
made some enemies in his life. All I know is that Paul Harris seems to be
stalking me right now. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I just don’t know.”

“Did the psychic leave her name?” Ethan asked.

“No,” Kim said, “and I don’t believe for one
moment that she’s a psychic. She’s either the murderer or an accomplice.” He
clenched his fist. “I’m going to find out who did this to him. Whoever killed
him, took their time doing it. They enjoyed it.”

“And now they’re after me,” Madison said.

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