Read The Silence That Speaks for Free Online Page B

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.”
    “Your ex is a rich man with lots of connections and pull. He’s in a health care facility, not a prison. He could have hired someone to do his dirty work.” Casey propped her elbow on her knee and leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand. “You said your divorce was amicable, but it was still a divorce. Were you seeing someone else? Was there a dispute over money? Did you get anything in the settlement that Conrad badly wanted to keep?”
    Casey stopped her litany of questions to ask the most important one. “Was Conrad unstable enough to let any one of those things push him over the edge?”
    “And hire a hit man to kill me?” Madeline’s tone was filled with disbelief. “Absolutely not. He’s severely depressed and in a very dark place. But his anger is all aimed inward. Our conversations have been few, but they’ve all been civil, even friendly. And no, I wasn’t and am not seeing anyone else. Nor did I demand anything in the divorce. Conrad was more than generous. I really think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.” Casey intentionally kept her posture relaxed. She was easing the conversation in a strategic direction that could possibly put Madeline on the defensive—especially since she’d just written her ex-husband off as a suspect. “Would you object if I were to drive up and have a talk with Conrad?”
    Madeline’s eyes widened, more in surprise than in defensiveness.
    “Just being thorough,” Casey added lightly.
    After considering that for a moment, Madeline shrugged. “I guess not,” she said. “The truth is, Conrad and I may be divorced, but I still care about him.