“Understandably anxious and upset,” Casey replied. “And still in pain. She took a nasty fall when she tried to avoid that SUV.”
Worry, not guilt, furrowed Conrad’s brow.
“I don’t understand it,” he said. “Why would someone want to hurt Madeline? She doesn’t have an enemy in the world.”
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“Clearly that’s not true.” Marc spoke up for the first time, and he was all business, without a trace of personal involvement. “Our best guess is that the offender thinks she knows something incriminating, and that she has proof of it in her possession.”
“I don’t understand. Did she witness a crime?”
“Not that we know of,” Marc replied. “So far we haven’t found the offender’s trigger. But we will.”
“The police don’t have the manpower to do anything without solid evidence of our theory,” Casey added. “But Forensic Instincts does, which is why Madeline hired us.”
“I’m grateful.” Again, Conrad looked and sounded genuine. “And please, whatever extra funds need to be spent, I’m more than happy to cover them. Just keep her safe.”
“That’s the plan,” Casey said. “Which is why we wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“Starting with, did I hire someone to try to kill my ex-wife.” Conrad spoke very matter-of-factly. He waved away any forthcoming clarification from Casey. “I’m not mentally healthy right now. But I do have my full wits about me. The husband—or former husband, in this case—is always the first suspect. The answer is no, I most certainly did not try to harm Madeline. Do whatever you need to do, look into whatever phone records you’d like—anything required to back up my claim. You have carte blanche to dig into my life—or whatever’s left of it.”
“Thank you.” Casey was wary about how extremely forthcoming Conrad was being. It could be that his complete and open honesty was real, and based only upon his fondness for his ex-wife. On the other hand, it could be that he was trying to throw them off track.
Either way, his cooperation made things a hell of a lot easier.
“You asked if Madeline witnessed a crime,” Casey said aloud. “As Marc told you, the answer is no—nothing overt. Can you think of any situation she might be overlooking that would make her a target?”
Conrad spread his palms wide. “No, but I’m at a distinct disadvantage. I haven’t seen my ex-wife in months, and my exposure to her life, most especially to her work, is nil.” He paused. “My former place of employment is not a topic that’s introduced to me unless I bring it up in a session.”
“Your former place of employment?” Marc responded to that one. “I was under the impression that you planned to return to your previous position—or your new one, when the hospital merger goes through.”
“You don’t have to discuss this if you’d rather not, Conrad,” Dr. Oberlin was quick to point out.
Conrad stared down at the carpet for a moment, then lifted his gaze—that sad, hollow gaze. “That’s all right. I’m just not sure how to answer your question. Whether or not the position is still open to me isn’t the primary issue. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be capable of performing surgery again. I’m not even sure how I’d react to walking into an operating room.”
Casey couldn’t help but feel pity. The man was visibly suffering. A huge portion of his life and his identity were gone.
“I’m very sorry about Ronald Lexington,” she said quietly but directly. “I can’t imagine how painful his loss has been for you. But from what I understand, you’re a brilliant surgeon. Hundreds of people could benefit from your skills. Life happens. That doesn’t make it your fault.”
“We’re not here to analyze Dr. Westfield or to discuss his ghosts,” Dr. Oberlin interrupted. “Do you have any other questions for him—ones that relate to his former wife’s predicament?”
Casey took the hint, and fast. She backed off from any reference to Ronald Lexington or to Conrad’s state of mind. “We won’t keep you.” She rose and handed Conrad a business card. “If you could make arrangements for us to do the necessary background check that you so kindly offered, that would be great. Also if you think of anything—however small—that might give us a lead, please call Forensic Instincts anytime, day or night.”
“Of course.” Conrad took her card and came to his feet, as well. His forehead was still creased. “Is Madeline being protected?”
“She has 24/7 security detail,” Marc stated flatly. He was letting Conrad know that if he was concerned about Madeline, he had nothing to worry about. And if he wasn’t—if it was access to his ex-wife he was looking for—that wouldn’t be happening. “No one is going to reach Madeline again, much less harm her. We’ve made sure of that.”
“Thank God.” Again, relief—genuine or otherwise—swept Conrad’s face. “I realize we’re divorced, but I still care deeply for her. Madeline is a wonderful and special woman who places everyone’s needs above her own. I want her kept safe, regardless of the cost.”
“She will be.” Marc’s tone was still firm, his expression still impersonal. Whatever he was feeling, he was keeping it under control.
“I’d appreciate if you’d keep me posted,” Conrad added. “I’ll arrange with Dr. Oberlin for your phone calls to be put through to me immediately.”
* * *
Marc stared out the window as Casey steered the van up the winding driveway leading to the iron gates.
She edged him a sidelong glance. He looked tense and introspective. “Brooding?” she asked.