The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“If you dare move an inch, I’ll hit you.”

Marc chuckled. “You’ve become more volatile since the last time.”

“The last time,” Madeline murmured. “That was a lifetime ago.” Her voice quavered. “Is this really happening?”

“It already did. It still is.” Marc was done lying to himself and to her. There was no escaping the enormity of what was occurring, what had never stopped occurring. He didn’t even want to try.

“I love you,” he said, his lips against her ear.

At that, Madeline began to cry. “I love you, too,” she got out. “Then. Now. Always.”

Marc rose up on his elbows again, staring directly into her eyes. “We have a lot to work out, a lot to talk about. But I’m not letting go of this—not like the last time.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

They both heard the front door open, and Marc jumped up, simultaneously reaching for his clothes and offering Madeline a hand to hasten her out of bed.

They dressed frantically, and Madeline ran a brush through her hair while Marc rearranged the bed, which was in shambles.

Hearing John walk into the apartment right behind Patrick, Marc and Madeline looked at each other and began to laugh.

“By the skin of our teeth,” Madeline said, smoothing Marc’s hair off his face.

As if to support her statement, they heard Patrick call out, “Madeline? Marc?”

“Coming.” Marc was already halfway to the door. He turned around to look at Madeline. “To be continued,” he said.

“I’m counting on it.”

Marc strode into the foyer. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.” Patrick looked disgusted. “I drove all the way down East Eighty-Second, and John did the same on First Avenue. There wasn’t a suspicious car to be found.”

“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.”