The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

Marc was on the verge of bringing the conversation to a close when Jacob Casper’s door opened, and he walked stiffly out to greet them. He didn’t look too happy.

“Ms. Hedgleigh, Mr. Devereaux, please come in.”

“It was so nice to meet you.” Janet smiled, stepped aside and crossed over to talk to the receptionist.

As they started following Casper, Claire murmured to Marc, “Overapplied makeup. Hair down. Check out her left cheek. Someone hit her.”

“I know,” Marc replied. “I saw.”

“File it away for later so we can talk.”

“Done.”

Casper led them into his office, which was a lot less antiseptic than the rest of the hospital and a whole lot nicer than either Marc or Claire had expected.

Across from the door, there was a walnut desk, kitty-cornered by a fully equipped computer table. Across the top of the office periphery was a semicircle of matching walnut overhead cabinets. Casper’s desk was neat as a pin with only a telephone, a family photo, some office supplies and a neatly stacked bunch of files on it. The walls were clean and sparse, as well, with a few scattered paintings and a hospital calendar hanging on them.

Across from the desk were two chairs, which Casper now gestured toward.

“Please sit.” He settled himself behind his desk, hands folded in front of him.

Defensive, Marc thought. Placing a definitive barrier between them. His stance was rigid, like a watchful German shepherd who’d heard an intruder come in.

“Can I have my receptionist bring you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?” Jacob asked.

“Thank you, no,” Claire replied. “We’re fine. And we don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what this is about? Why do you want to talk about Conrad Westfield? What is there about him that concerns you?” He cleared his throat. “And forgive me for being rude, but how do you even know him?”

Both Marc and Claire had expected just those questions. And as they’d decided, Marc took the lead.

“We don’t know him, not personally,” he said. “But his wife, Madeline, and I go back to her days in Bethesda and my days as a navy SEAL. She was an excellent nurse when I needed one. So when I ran into her in New York, we caught up. I also introduced her to the rest of the Forensic Instincts team.”

“So I understand.” Jacob nodded. “That’s why you all came with her to Ronald’s dedication ceremony.”

“That and to make a substantial donation,” Marc reminded him. “Claire and Casey were both patients at Manhattan Memorial. They had excellent care. Our company wanted to contribute a generous sum as our thanks.”

“And we appreciate that,” Jacob responded as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Madeline and I really hit it off.” Claire stepped in where she was supposed to. “We talked quite a bit. She’s terribly upset about the rumors that are circulating about her ex-husband.”

Jacob stiffened even more. “What rumors?”

“Rumors that Conrad was somehow responsible for Ronald Lexington’s death.”

Sweat broke out on Jacob’s brow. “I’ve heard no such rumors. And they’d be preposterous. Conrad is one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the world. He tried everything to save Ronald, but to no avail. It was a horrible, tragic loss. But Conrad’s skill was never in question.”

“Perhaps not to you, but others apparently felt differently—some who went so far as to blame Madeline, as well, just because she was in the ICU when Ronald died.”

“What?” That one seemed to genuinely take Jacob aback. “That’s beyond absurd. Madeline was on the code team that day. She never laid a finger on Ronald. How could she be blamed for his death?”

“I can’t answer that. But the rumors are very real and very hurtful,” Claire told him.

“And completely uncalled for.” Jacob was adamant on that score. “There are no two people I respect more than Conrad and Madeline.”

Now that might or might not be true.

“So you really meant it when you said you’d use your influence to recommend Conrad for chief of surgery once the merger is complete?” Marc asked.