Mad Love: Madison

by Boone, Lisa

  Madison smiled at his description. “What pocket watch?”

  “You’ve never seen it?” Derek asked, his eyes wide. “Belonged to his father. Said the watch saved his life once.”

  Madison gave him an amused look as she shook her head.

  “It did,” Derek insisted. “I saw the watch. It even had a place where it looked like a bullet hit it. There was even dried up blood on it.” He made a face. “Which is actually kind of gross. He said it happened while he was a police officer. Some guy he was chasing turned around and shot him. The watch saved his life.” Derek paused before letting out a large sneeze. Muttering, “Excuse me,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. “I hate these allergies.”

  “I would take anything Quincy said with a grain of salt,” Becca said. “I once asked him about a scar I noticed on his arm. He told me some long story about being knifed in an alley.”

  Madison nodded. “He told me he got the scar while shark hunting in South Carolina. Quincy probably picked the watch up at a flea market that morning.” She pursed her lips as she stared at the table. “I just wish I knew what was going on with him.”

  “Look,” Becca said, “in my opinion, you’re allowing this thing with Quincy to distract you from the real danger. Paul.” She pulled on one finger after the other. “He accosted you at the restaurant. He made veiled threats. He moved down the block from where you live and he tried to get past Derek in order to see you. Keith is a bit of a pain, but he’s right. Quincy is not the one you have to worry about right now. We should have a plan in place just in case Paul does something. An attorney at the last firm I worked at was shot by her client’s ex-husband. He walked right into her office and shot her.”

  Derek pressed his fingers to his nose, stifling a sneeze. He blew out his breath and dropped his hands as the need passed. “Did he kill her?”

  Becca stared at him with a mixture of disgust and horror. “I can’t afford to be sick. Go home.”

  Derek looked defeated as he pushed himself away from the table. “Fine, I’m going.”

  “Did he kill her?” Madison asked.

  “No,” Becca answered, “luckily she survived, but it should never have happened. She had plenty of warning. The guy had been making little veiled hints at what he was going to do for months, but she simply refused to believe she was in danger.”

  “Well,” Madison said, “I believe.” She traced her finger along the edge of the desk. “I definitely believe.”

  “Have you told the security guards downstairs that there’s a problem?”

  “Ethan’s already handled it.”

  “Perhaps you should get a gun,” Becca said.

  “Ethan’s already taken care of that too. He’s going to take me to the shooting range,”—she checked her watch—“in thirty minutes.”

  Becca’s eyes widened. “Well, it does appear that Mr. Parker is on top of things, doesn’t it?”

  §

  11:55 A.M.

  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 lean
ed 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.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  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.

  §

  3:02 P.M.

  Madison picked up her purse and stepped out into the hallway in front of her office. She waved at Becca and Keith who were huddled by the receptionist’s desk as she walked by.

  “What’s going on?” Madison asked.

  “We were just talking about Quincy,” Becca said. “I still can’t believe someone killed him.”

  “Neither can I.” She he
ld up her purse. “I just got this strange call from my downstairs neighbor about a leak above her bedroom, so I’m going to head home and see what’s going on.”

  “Might as well,” Becca said gesturing to the window where large snowflakes flew past the window. “They’re predicting more snow tonight. I’m betting the courthouse will be closed tomorrow, and even if it isn’t, I’m working from home.”

  Keith made a show of looking around as Madison walked to the elevator. “And where’s your bodyguard?”

  “At the police station dropping off the things he got from Quincy’s neighbor.” Madison didn’t bother mentioning that he also said something about swinging by the news station and talking to the reporter who first discovered Quincy’s body. “When he shows up, could you tell him that I went home?”

  “Maybe you should call him,” Keith said.

  Becca rolled her eyes. “That’s a brilliant idea. I’m sure she never thought of that.”

  Keith raised his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just figured that since they didn’t know each other that well, that she might not have wanted to bother him and that it would be a good idea…” He trailed off uncertainly as he gave them a helpless look. “To check in with him because he’s supposed to be a private, you know, detective. Not that he could really help you that much.”

  Madison’s eyebrows lifted questioningly.

  “He’s only been at this for less than a year,” he said.

  “He was in the Naval Criminal Investigative Service for over five years,” Becca pointed out.

  “Not the same thing as this,” Keith said. “This is altogether a different thing.” He looked at Madison. “Did you call him?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” She pressed the elevator down button. “His phone’s just going to voice mail.”