The Silence That Speaks

  “They must have seen us pull up,” Marc said, “and got the hell away as soon as they did.”

  “If someone’s watching Madeline’s place, we’ve got to get the make, model and license plate number of the car.”

  “Yeah, and we have to increase her security.” Marc met Patrick’s gaze. “I’m going to be around a lot more often. I’ll double-up with you and your security guys.”

  Patrick glanced from Marc to Madeline and back. “Okay. Just run it by Casey.”

  “I’m going to the brownstone right now to do just that.”

  * * *

  Marc went straight to the second-floor conference room when he arrived. He heard Ryan cursing all the way from the basement, but he didn’t care to see what was going on. He had to get this confrontation with Casey over with.

  She was sitting at the table, files spread out all around her, talking on the phone. Marc knew immediately from her soft tone of voice that it was Hutch.

  He halted in the doorway, just as she looked up and saw him.

  “C’mon in, Marc. I’m just hanging up.”

  “Say hi to Hutch for me,” he said as he waited politely for her to finish.

  “Marc says hi,” Casey repeated into the phone. “He looks like hell.”

  A second later, she started to laugh. “Hutch says hi back, and it must be a woman since nothing in the world rattles you.”

  Marc’s lips thinned, and he didn’t smile.

  Casey took note of that. “Be safe,” she said into the phone. “And call me as soon as you can.” A pause. “I miss you, too.” She dropped her voice. “I love you.”

  She disconnected the call.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked Marc. “I know that Patrick flew over to Madeline’s to check out a suspicious-looking car. Did he text you?”

  “He didn’t have to. I was there.”

  Casey studied his face. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Marc crossed over, pulled out the chair next to Casey’s and sat, leaning forward in his more aggressive stance.

  “The car took off before Patrick and John could track it down.”

  “Patrick and John,” Casey repeated. “Does that mean you stayed with Madeline?”

  “Yeah, it does.” Marc never hedged. “She called and asked me to come. So I went.” He put his hands on his knees. “Look, Casey, let’s not play twenty questions. I’ll save you the trouble. Things have changed between Madeline and me.”

  “What a surprise,” came Casey’s dry response.

  Marc ignored the sarcasm. “The point is, things also have to change on this case. I want to keep an eye on Madeline. If the killer is aggressively moving in, one security guard’s not enough.” He held up his palm. “And before you ask, no, that second somebody won’t be Patrick. It’ll be me.”

  Casey fiddled with her pen for a long time.

  “I told you what would happen if you let your personal feelings take over this investigation,” she said at last. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, even after you practically broke a kid’s neck because he was about to mug someone who looked like Madeline. But I can’t ignore the obvious any longer—especially not after what you just said.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to take a backseat. Interview Casper with Claire, and then stick with behind-the-scenes work. We’ve got a couple of new cases on the horizon. Get involved with those. But there’s no way you’re going to be clearheaded enough to safeguard Madeline. You’re off this one, Marc.”

  “The hell I am.” Marc’s eyes blazed and a muscle worked in his jaw. “I love Madeline. Her life’s in danger. I’m not working on some bullshit case because you’re overreacting to my abilities to deal with this. I’m damned good at what I do. There’d be a huge hole in the investigation if I wasn’t a part of it. Forget it, Casey, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Excuse me?” Casey rose, her own eyes fiery. “That’s not your call. It’s mine. And I’ve made it.”

  “And I’ve ignored it.”

  “This is a team, Marc, but it’s not a democracy. I make the final decisions here. And I’ve given you mine. I didn’t ask if you agreed with it. I gave you a direct order.”

  “I don’t take direct orders. My military days are behind me. I respect the fact that you run this company, but this is one time I won’t let it stop me. Fire me if you want to. That’s your right. I’ll still do what I have to do to keep Madeline safe. You can’t prevent that.”

  The words fire me crackled between them like a lit fuse.

  “Is that an ultimatum?” Casey demanded. “Because if it is—”

  “Aren’t you being a total hypocrite?” Marc interrupted what he knew was coming. His stare went straight through her. “Hutch was so emotionally involved in a couple of recent cases where your life was in jeopardy, he was practically part of the FI team.”

  “That’s irrelevant,” Casey shot back. “Hutch doesn’t work for me. You do—at least for now. His conflict of interests affected the FBI, and that was his challenge to deal with. This is strictly a Forensic Instincts matter. I need my team sharp and with no emotional ties to our clients. You tried that path. It didn’t work. As you said, you’re in love with Madeline. You always have been. But you kept things in check. That’s no longer the case.”

  “This sucks, Casey.” Marc stood up and began pacing around the room. “I wanted to do this aboveboard. I could have gone on with this relationship and said nothing to you. But I wouldn’t insult you like that.”

  “But you’d insult me by refusing to respect my decision?”

  “It wasn’t meant as an insult.” Marc stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Can we take this down a notch?”

  Casey nodded, looking as trapped by the predicament as Marc did.

  “I don’t want to leave Forensic Instincts. It’s where I belong, and this team means a lot to me. I’m sorry I was insubordinate. You know that’s not my style. So let’s put it differently. I’ve never asked you for special consideration, but I’m asking now. I believe I can be even more effective because of my feelings for Madeline. I know what I have to do. Will you please trust me to do it?”

  Casey drew a harsh breath, and dragged her hand through her hair. “Goddammit, Marc,” she said finally. “You’re putting me in a shitty situation, and you know it. If you screw up because of your feelings for Madeline...”

  “I won’t. You have my word.”

  There was never a doubt about Marc’s word, not to Casey. He kept it, no matter what.

  “Don’t make me regret this,” she replied. “But all right. Do what you have to. Just keep me posted every step of the way.”

  “I will.” Marc walked over and touched her sleeve. “Thank you for trusting me—and for not kicking my ass out of here. It would have been justified. By the way, just so you know, I’m going to follow up on every single angle we discussed.”

  “I expected no less.”

  “We should talk to Patrick and put extra security on Conrad, too. If Madeline’s in greater danger, then so is he.”

  “Point taken. I’ll handle it.”

  Marc held out his hand. “Truce?”

  “Truce.” Casey shook his hand, and then leaned up to hug him. “Now that we’ve killed each other, I want you to know how happy for you I am. You and Madeline are the real deal. Hold on to it.”

  “After losing it once? You bet your ass I will.”

  20

  IF YOU TELL the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.

  Mark Twain’s words. Casey’s favorite quote.

  Marc adhered to it when he set up the appointment with Jacob Casper. And he and Claire fully intended to follow through on it during that meeting.

  “How did Casper rea
ct when you said this meeting pertained to Conrad Westfield?” Claire asked as they headed from the subway to Manhattan Memorial.

  “First, he was dead quiet, like I’d punched him in the gut,” Marc replied. “Then he wanted details. I told him I’d rather discuss them in person.”

  “That must have freaked him out.”

  “Sure did.” Marc’s smile was tight. “Anything that rocks the boat now will freak him out. He sees the brass ring just ahead. Once the merger is finalized, he’ll be the man.”

  “So the question is, is he nervous about this meeting because it might put a chink in his plans to become hospital administrator of the new megahospital, or is it because he’s guilty of going after Conrad and Madeline?”

  “Either way, I’m going to find out. That’s my job.” Marc shot Claire a look. “Your job is to find out if he’s doing Sharon Gilding, and if they might have joined forces to get rid of the threats.”

  Claire nodded, slowing down as they neared the hospital doors. “Let’s go for it.”

  * * *

  Jacob Casper was in his office when they arrived.

  Despite there being a perfectly good and available receptionist at her desk in the entrance of the administrative wing, Janet Moss came out to greet them. She was wearing black slacks and a red blazer, but her hair was down this time, straight and simple as it framed her face.

  “Hello.” She shook their hands. “Mr. Devereaux and Ms. Hedgleigh, right?”

  It was a perfunctory question, one that Janet obviously knew the answer to, but both Marc and Claire nodded.

  “I realize you’re here to see Jacob, but I had to come out and meet the two of you. I’ve talked with Casey Woods, who told me so many fascinating stories about Forensic Instincts, and I’m now meeting two of her team members. It’s really exciting for me. I’ve read so much about your cases and the roles each of you have played. I’ve seen you interviewed on TV and online. You’re really impressive.”

  “Thank you.” Claire answered quickly, before Marc could make some blunt statement that blew off the compliment. “We appreciate your support. We love what we do, and we’re grateful when we’re able to help our clients.”

  Marc was on the verge of bringing the conversation to a close when Jacob Casper’s door opened, and he walked stiffly out to greet them. He didn’t look too happy.

  “Ms. Hedgleigh, Mr. Devereaux, please come in.”

  “It was so nice to meet you.” Janet smiled, stepped aside and crossed over to talk to the receptionist.

  As they started following Casper, Claire murmured to Marc, “Overapplied makeup. Hair down. Check out her left cheek. Someone hit her.”

  “I know,” Marc replied. “I saw.”

  “File it away for later so we can talk.”

  “Done.”

  Casper led them into his office, which was a lot less antiseptic than the rest of the hospital and a whole lot nicer than either Marc or Claire had expected.

  Across from the door, there was a walnut desk, kitty-cornered by a fully equipped computer table. Across the top of the office periphery was a semicircle of matching walnut overhead cabinets. Casper’s desk was neat as a pin with only a telephone, a family photo, some office supplies and a neatly stacked bunch of files on it. The walls were clean and sparse, as well, with a few scattered paintings and a hospital calendar hanging on them.

  Across from the desk were two chairs, which Casper now gestured toward.

  “Please sit.” He settled himself behind his desk, hands folded in front of him.

  Defensive, Marc thought. Placing a definitive barrier between them. His stance was rigid, like a watchful German shepherd who’d heard an intruder come in.

  “Can I have my receptionist bring you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?” Jacob asked.

  “Thank you, no,” Claire replied. “We’re fine. And we don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me what this is about? Why do you want to talk about Conrad Westfield? What is there about him that concerns you?” He cleared his throat. “And forgive me for being rude, but how do you even know him?”

  Both Marc and Claire had expected just those questions. And as they’d decided, Marc took the lead.

  “We don’t know him, not personally,” he said. “But his wife, Madeline, and I go back to her days in Bethesda and my days as a navy SEAL. She was an excellent nurse when I needed one. So when I ran into her in New York, we caught up. I also introduced her to the rest of the Forensic Instincts team.”

  “So I understand.” Jacob nodded. “That’s why you all came with her to Ronald’s dedication ceremony.”

  “That and to make a substantial donation,” Marc reminded him. “Claire and Casey were both patients at Manhattan Memorial. They had excellent care. Our company wanted to contribute a generous sum as our thanks.”

  “And we appreciate that,” Jacob responded as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Madeline and I really hit it off.” Claire stepped in where she was supposed to. “We talked quite a bit. She’s terribly upset about the rumors that are circulating about her ex-husband.”

  Jacob stiffened even more. “What rumors?”

  “Rumors that Conrad was somehow responsible for Ronald Lexington’s death.”

  Sweat broke out on Jacob’s brow. “I’ve heard no such rumors. And they’d be preposterous. Conrad is one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the world. He tried everything to save Ronald, but to no avail. It was a horrible, tragic loss. But Conrad’s skill was never in question.”

  “Perhaps not to you, but others apparently felt differently—some who went so far as to blame Madeline, as well, just because she was in the ICU when Ronald died.”

  “What?” That one seemed to genuinely take Jacob aback. “That’s beyond absurd. Madeline was on the code team that day. She never laid a finger on Ronald. How could she be blamed for his death?”

  “I can’t answer that. But the rumors are very real and very hurtful,” Claire told him.

  “And completely uncalled for.” Jacob was adamant on that score. “There are no two people I respect more than Conrad and Madeline.”

  Now that might or might not be true.

  “So you really meant it when you said you’d use your influence to recommend Conrad for chief of surgery once the merger is complete?” Marc asked.

  “Of course.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “If he’s able and wants the position, I’ll do what I can to make sure he gets it.”

  “You mean if he gets out of Crest Haven,” Marc said.

  Jacob looked like he was going to fall through the floor. “Madeline told you about that?”

  “She was upset,” Claire replied. “She needed someone to talk to—I’m a very good listener. The important thing is that you believe in Conrad and have faith that he’ll be up to assuming such a significant position. That will ease Madeline’s mind. She and her ex are still very good friends. They stay in touch. The fact that anyone would question his integrity really threw her.”

  “Why didn’t she come to me herself?” Jacob asked.

  “Because she’s proud. Because she wanted the truth, and she wasn’t sure you’d say it straight to her face. And since we happen to be an investigative firm, she thought we’d be the best intermediaries to pursue this on her behalf.”

  “I see.” It didn’t take a professional to see that Jacob was really shaken up by this meeting. “I didn’t know about this gossip, but I’ll find out who’s spreading it and put an end to it. Please tell that to Madeline. And tell her I plan on speaking to her myself, to reiterate my personal commitment to Conrad.”

  “We certainly will.” Claire gave a bright smile. “From what Madeline has told me, Conrad’s doctors feel he’s improving rapidly. By th
e time your due diligence is done, he should be able to return and lead the combined surgical staff of the new entity.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  Yeah, right, Marc thought. You sound about as happy as a kid who’s getting detention.

  “Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Casper,” Claire said. “We won’t take up any more of your time. And we’ll convey your support to Madeline right away.”

  “Please do,” Jacob replied. “I want this cleared up as soon as possible.”

  He stared after Claire and Marc as they left his office and made a left turn toward the elevators.

  The minute they disappeared, he shut the door and picked up the phone.

  * * *

  “You know he’s calling someone by now,” Marc commented as they exited the hospital. “The question is, who?”

  “Sharon Gilding,” Claire supplied. “They’re sleeping together. She’s using him to get the chief of surgery job. And he’s an idiot who thinks she’s really into him.”

  “Sounds right.”

  Claire gave a shudder. “This is one of those times I wish I could wash my mind out with soap. The two of them together...yuck.”

  A chuckle. “Kinky stuff?”

  “Let’s drop it. I might puke.”

  “Okay, then let’s take this in another direction.” As he spoke, Marc and Claire veered toward the subway station. “I’m sure you agree with me that Casper knew about the rumors.”

  “Definitely.”

  “And he’s not shutting down because he doesn’t want to air the hospital’s dirty laundry in front of me. From what you just told me, I’d say he’s being led around by his dick.”

  “He is.” Claire nodded. “The feeling of manipulation, greed and determination to get what they want at all costs came through loud and clear. But murder? I couldn’t get a handle on that. I’m just not sure. There was darkness and there was ugliness. If I’d only picked up on pure evil, it would have been easier. But this was murkier. I’m not sure why.”

  “From a behavioral standpoint, Casper was a wreck. He emanated guilt and deception. The question is, was that simply because he’s afraid Bitch Doctor will dump him if he doesn’t deliver her the job she wants? Or was it because he thought we were onto them for something a lot bigger than sex and political bullshit.” Marc frowned. “He’s a guilty man. I just don’t know how guilty. So we definitely can’t scratch him or Gilding off our list of suspects. The motive and the body tells are there.”