The Silence That Speaks (4 page)

“I knew it because it was the same with me.” Marc shut his eyes, pressed his forehead to hers. “Shit,” he said again.

Maddy was silent for a moment. “We don’t have to give this a name or overanalyze it, Marc,” she murmured. “We can just enjoy it—whatever
it
is and whatever
it
becomes.”

“We both know that’s a cop-out, Maddy. The name is hanging out there, whether or not the words are said. The feelings are real and they’re off the charts. I’m already in so deep I can’t get through a meeting without thinking about this.” He pushed his hips gently against hers. “And that was
before
it happened. Now I’ll probably walk around with a 24/7 hard-on.”

Maddy began to laugh. “I like that image. Very SEAL-like.” Her fingertips caressed his back, and her breath caught as she felt him harden inside her. “Let’s not talk. For now—I’m here.” She wrapped her legs around him. “Right here.”

Right here had gone on for months—the most emotionally consuming months of Marc’s life.

And emotionally consuming was not the mindset of a navy SEAL. It couldn’t be.

An outburst of barks, followed by Hero slamming his full weight against Marc’s legs, snapped Marc out of his trip down memory lane in a hurry. Hero jumped up, scrambling, without much success, to get his beefy body onto Marc’s lap.

“Down,” Marc commanded, snapping his fingers.

Instantly Hero obeyed.

“Sit.”

Hero’s bottom hit the ground and he gazed at Marc, waiting for his reward.

“Very subtle.” Marc reached in his pocket for one of the organic carrots Claire had cut up this morning. “Good boy.” He extended his hand and gave Hero what he was waiting for.

As Hero chomped down the carrot, Marc rose, now very much in the present. “I take it you’ve had enough playtime with your buddies and are ready to head back. So am I.”

Robin waved at Marc as he leashed Hero, and he grinned and waved back. She brought her hand to her ear in a gesture that said
Call me.
Marc nodded. He wished he was in the market for a hookup that would be that simple.

But simple had never been his forte.

Feeling restless and in a foul mood, Marc walked Hero briskly back to work.

“Have a good outing?” Casey asked as he passed by her office.

“Hero got some exercise and I got hit on. So I’d say, yeah, it was a good outing.”

Casey glanced up and watched the tension in his broad-shouldered body as he continued on his way.

“I’d try the gym,” she called after him. “It’s probably better for what ails you.”

5

CASEY ARRIVED AT
Madeline’s apartment at 11:00 a.m. sharp, the time Emma had confirmed with her first thing that morning.

“Hey, John,” Casey greeted the security guard at the door. John Nickels was one of Patrick’s best and sharpest.

“Casey—hi.” John gave her a professional smile. He was well over six feet, with the body of a linebacker. He’d served the NYPD in the homicide department for twenty-five years. No one was getting by him, that was for damned sure.

Now he stepped aside for Casey to ring the bell. The doorman had already announced her and gotten Madeline’s okay to send her up. “Everything here’s been quiet,” he said.

“Good.” Casey rang the bell. “That’s how I like it.”

Madeline opened the door. She was wearing jeans and a pale yellow sweater. Again, expensive but understated.

She was still moving stiffly as she showed Casey in, urging her to make herself comfortable on the living room’s deep-cushioned, pebble-brown club chair, which was positioned diagonally across from the sofa.

“Don’t even offer to get me anything.” Casey cut off what she saw was coming, hanging her coat on one of the polished brass hooks adjacent to the door. “Just sit down on that sofa and relax. We’ll talk.”

“I feel like a ridiculous invalid,” Madeline said, lowering herself to the sofa with a grimace. “I’m sitting in the exact same spot as I was yesterday when Patrick was checking out my apartment. Other than showering, eating and creeping in and out of my bed, I’ve done very little but lie here and read.”

“You’re healing,” Casey replied. “You need the rest.”

“I haven’t slept well since the break-in, and certainly not since the attempt on my life,” Madeline admitted. “I wouldn’t have shut an eye if John hadn’t been outside my door all night. I can’t thank you or Patrick enough for arranging security for me.”

“We protect our clients.” Casey was adamant. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Not on our watch. You can count on it.”

“I am.” Madeline folded her hands in her lap. “Go ahead. Ask me whatever you’d like.”

Casey held up her iPhone with a questioning look. “All right if I tape the convo? I want to concentrate without taking notes.” A grin. “And unfortunately, Yoda isn’t transportable.”

Madeline chuckled, waved her hand to indicate that Casey should go ahead. “Record away.”

Casey pressed the appropriate button and set the iPhone on the coffee table. She sat back, crossing one leg over the other. “Let’s review potential suspects. Starting with Conrad.”

Madeline inclined her head in surprise. “Conrad? Isn’t that a reach? I mean, I know the spouse is always number one on the list, but under the circumstances, my ex is in no position to try to run me down.”

“Your ex is a rich man with lots of connections and pull. He’s in a health care facility, not a prison. He could have hired someone to do his dirty work.” Casey propped her elbow on her knee and leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand. “You said your divorce was amicable, but it was still a divorce. Were you seeing someone else? Was there a dispute over money? Did you get anything in the settlement that Conrad badly wanted to keep?”

Casey stopped her litany of questions to ask the most important one. “Was Conrad unstable enough to let any one of those things push him over the edge?”

“And hire a hit man to kill me?” Madeline’s tone was filled with disbelief. “Absolutely not. He’s severely depressed and in a very dark place. But his anger is all aimed inward. Our conversations have been few, but they’ve all been civil, even friendly. And no, I wasn’t and am not seeing anyone else. Nor did I demand anything in the divorce. Conrad was more than generous. I really think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Casey intentionally kept her posture relaxed. She was easing the conversation in a strategic direction that could possibly put Madeline on the defensive—especially since she’d just written her ex-husband off as a suspect. “Would you object if I were to drive up and have a talk with Conrad?”

Madeline’s eyes widened, more in surprise than in defensiveness.

“Just being thorough,” Casey added lightly.

After considering that for a moment, Madeline shrugged. “I guess not,” she said. “The truth is, Conrad and I may be divorced, but I still care about him. I have no idea what his current state of mind is, and I don’t want to cause a setback. So let’s talk to his doctor first and get her opinion. Her name is Dr. Marie Oberlin. I’ll call her before you leave. If she gives us her okay, I’ll text you all her contact info, and you can make the trip up to Danbury.”

“That would be great.”

Madeline’s eyes narrowed quizzically. “I wasn’t expecting you to take such an aggressive stance when it came to Conrad. You weren’t that way yesterday. What changed? Did you dig up something I should know about?”

“No.” Casey was blunt. “What changed is that you and I are now alone and Marc isn’t in the room.”

A flush stained Madeline’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. “How much did Marc tell you?” she asked.

“Marc doesn’t share. Not his personal life. But I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Is there anything
you’d
like to share?”

Madeline’s hesitation was brief. “I guess I came to Forensic Instincts because of and in spite of Marc. Your company’s reputation is stellar. I also know how extraordinary Marc is at everything he does.
Failure’
s not in his vocabulary. But I didn’t expect to react so powerfully to seeing him again. It’s been ten years. Maybe I made a mistake coming to you.”

“You didn’t. We just need to work this through.” Casey wasn’t surprised by anything Madeline had just said. “Here’s what I know. You two met in Bethesda during Marc’s navy SEAL days. I gather you had a relationship—a pretty intense one, judging from both your reactions. I won’t pry. But you have to take the lead with me on this one. How much do you want Marc to be included in or excluded from? How hard will it be to separate business from personal? I’ll handle this any way you want me to. And it
can
be handled. But you have to tell me what you want—Marc’s expertise or his absence. Either can be arranged.”

There was a long silence—one that Casey had anticipated. She just sat quietly, watching Madeline pick at a fingernail and waiting for her response.

“I trust Marc with my life,” she said at last. “I’d be an idiot to exclude him. We’re both adults. We’ll have to get past our residual feelings—that is, unless Marc’s indicated otherwise.”

“To the contrary, Marc is his usual proactive self, ready to take on and solve the case. But
you’re
our client. You have to be at ease.”

“What I have to be is
alive,
” Madeline responded. “So yes, please include Marc in your investigation.”

“Fine.” Casey nodded. “Next question. I’d like to take Marc with me when I visit Conrad. I rely on his intuition and his strategies. Does Conrad know about Marc?”

“He knows I was involved with someone in Bethesda years ago. He’s not privy to the details. And I didn’t exactly leave photos lying around. So he wouldn’t recognize Marc or his name.”

“Good.” Again, Casey nodded. “So you’ll call Dr. Oberlin before I leave. If all goes as planned, Marc and I will visit Crest Haven Residential Treatment Center. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s move on, then. I’ll need a list of all your friends, supposed friends and associates, both inside and outside the hospital—everything from Ronald Lexington’s wife, to his professional successor, to your coffee or lunch buddies, to your dentist and hair stylist. Start composing it as soon as I leave. I’ll need it ASAP.”

“Wow.” Madeline rubbed a hand across her brow. “That’s going to be quite a challenge.”

“I’m sure. But it has to be done.” Casey could see that Madeline’s strength was waning. “One more thing and then I’ll let you make that phone call and we’ll call it a morning. What’s changed in your life—either personal or professional—over the past few weeks or months? Anything at all that comes to mind?”

“The merger,” Madeline replied without missing a beat.

“Yes, the hospital merger.” Casey wasn’t surprised that Madeline responded so quickly and went straight to that particular subject. Based on Ryan’s preliminary research, the health care industry was abuzz with news of the merger between Manhattan Memorial Hospital—the hospital where Madeline and Conrad worked—and New York Medical Center.

“Ryan did some digging,” Casey said. “According to him, the merger you’re describing recently went from being a dead issue to a done deal. I understand why the hospital board put it on hold—Ronald Lexington’s death. I also understand that he’s been gone for several months. What rekindled the interest in the merger now?”

“Profitability did,” Madeline replied. “Our hospital was in turmoil after Ronald’s death. It took a while, but now it’s running smoothly again, thanks to our interim hospital administrator—who’s adamantly in favor of the merger, by the way. The board was waiting for him to be brought up to speed to consummate a deal.”

“Interesting. You said that Ronald was just as adamantly opposed.” Casey processed that. “Where did Conrad fit into this?”

“Oh, he was a major advocate. And, in the interest of full disclosure, his pro stance wasn’t entirely altruistic. Part of the reason he was so eager for the merger to happen is that he was being offered the position of chief of surgery of the new conglomerate.”

“I see.” Actually, Casey already knew that. But it was important that Madeline trusted her enough to tell her everything.

“Personally, Ronald thought that was wonderful for Conrad. But he was opposed to expanding the hospital into a huge, impersonal entity—and to having to eliminate staff in the process.”

“That was then. Let’s talk about now.”

“As I said, the merger was just announced,” Madeline replied. “Rumors are flying everywhere. The entire hospital chats about little else. There are a lot of people freaking out—not that I blame them. People are worried about losing their jobs, about pay cuts, about resource cuts, about increased responsibilities and fewer staff members to fulfill them. And the whole process is in everyone’s face, so the stress is through the roof. Due diligence has already started. There are accountants and lawyers meeting with Jacob Casper every day.”

“Jacob Casper,” Casey repeated, referring to the interim hospital administrator. “Tell me about him.”

“He was one of a dozen potential candidates, from what I understand. The board thought the world of him. They interviewed like crazy, but Jacob was appointed at Manhattan Memorial less than a month after Ronald’s passing.”

“And the general consensus on him?”

“He’s a good man for the job,” Madeline replied. “He was one of Ron’s key people, although they didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things. He’s well-respected, if not particularly well-liked. Ron was a real person. Jacob is a corporate guy.”

“And he’s pushing for the merger.” Casey tapped her index finger against her lips. “Do you have any idea what his inclinations are where it comes to Conrad? Does he endorse his becoming chief of surgery? Is he open-minded about his return? Or has he temporarily—or permanently—written him off?”

Madeline turned up her palms. “I have no idea. As Conrad’s ex, all I hear about him is gossip—nothing I’d place any stock in. And even before the divorce, no one in the hospital would have discussed Conrad with me. That would be unethical and unprofessional.”

Casey processed that with a nod. “We can find a way into the hospital to conduct some interviews, including Jacob Casper. But some of what we need access to requires a more delicate approach.”

A hint of a smile curved Madeline’s lips. “I think the detective shows call that infiltrating the place.”

“I call it getting what’s necessary to keep you safe.” Casey paused, recalling a tidbit of information that Ryan had run by her earlier. “Ryan caught a brief internet post on the hospital’s website—something about a courtyard dedication to Ronald Lexington?”

“Yes,” Madeline replied. “After Ronald’s death, donors contributed money to the hospital in his name. Ronald loved the outdoors, so all the donations went toward building a small courtyard near the administrative wing. It was just completed. There’s going to be a dedication ceremony next week.”

“Perfect,” Casey said. “How small and private is the ceremony?”

“Anyone employed by the hospital is free to come. And it’s not high security or anything, so I’m sure you could find your way in.”

“We’d do better as invited guests—invited and accompanied by a respected hospital staff member.”

Madeline’s brows rose. “Me?”

“Will you be up to it?”

“If you think it will help, I’ll make myself be up to it.”

“Good,” Casey replied. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”