The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“I’m sure we can.” Casey rose, extended her hand. “Consider yourself our client. We still have a lot to go over with you, but not today. You need to be in bed, recuperating. How did you get here this morning?”

“I took a cab. I live on the Upper East Side.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Patrick said at once. “I’d like to check out your apartment.”

Once again, Madeline reached into her purse. “I have a copy of the police report, if that helps. It lists the items that were stolen.”

“Great.” Patrick took the sheet of paper she unfolded. “That eliminates our having to contact the precinct. But actually, I’m more interested in seeing what specific areas of the apartment were ransacked. It might give me a clue as to what the intruders were looking for.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Also, while we’re driving, I’ll contact my security team and arrange to have a guard assigned to you immediately.” Over the years, Patrick had compiled a number of retired FBI agents and police officers to make up his expert security team. “That way, you’ll be safe and you’ll have peace of mind.”

“Thank you.” Slowly, Madeline stood up. “I truly appreciate it.”

“We’ll be in touch tomorrow,” Casey said. “If you’re up to it, maybe I can stop by your apartment and talk to you there. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in your own home.”

A nod. “I’m sure I would. I’ll wait for your call, then.” She paused, for the first time turning to look directly at Marc. “It was good to see you again, Marc,” she said softly, gripping her purse as if for moral support.

Marc met her gaze. ?

??Good to see you, too.”

Patrick escorted Madeline from the room.

The rest of the team chatted briefly, and then disbanded, already divvying up assignments.

“Marc.” Casey stopped him before he could leave the room. “I need your input for a minute. Could you hang around?”

“Sure.” He stopped in his tracks, not looking the least bit surprised by Casey’s request. He knew her. And he knew what she wanted.

He remained silent, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

Casey crossed over and shut the door, turning around to face him. She folded her arms across her chest. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really.”

“Fair enough. I’ll ask only what I need to. You answer only what you want to.”

“Shoot.”

“What was the nature of your relationship with Madeline, and based on that, do you need to bow out of this one?”

Marc shoved his hands in his pockets. “Madeline and I met when I was a SEAL, stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. She was a nurse at Bethesda Naval Hospital. I went for a checkup. She was on duty. We hit it off. We got involved in a personal relationship. It ended. And no, I’m not bowing out. She and I haven’t seen each other in years. Plus, you know me. Nothing prevents me from doing my job.”

“Yes, I do know you. And I’ve never seen you react to another living soul the way you just did to Madeline Westfield. You were in love with her. That’s obvious. It’s also quite a departure from the Marc I’m used to. So you can understand my concern.”

“I understand it. I’m assuaging it. It’s not a problem. Am I excused now?”

Casey studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded, stepping aside. “Yes, Marc, you’re excused. I won’t bring this up again unless it becomes necessary.”

“It won’t.” He was already heading out.

Casey stared after him as the door shut in his wake. “If you say so,” she murmured.

4

BY THE TIME Madeline unlocked the door and let herself and Patrick into her East Eighty-Second Street apartment, she was weaving on her feet.