The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“Sit.”

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

“Very subtle.” Marc reached in his pocke

t 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.”