The Silence That Speaks (17 page)

Madeline didn’t argue further. She just walked over to her bedside where her handbag was sitting. She picked it up and opened it, groping inside until she found what she wanted—the agreement she’d signed with Forensic Instincts. She unfolded it and turned to the last page. As she recalled, all their cell numbers were listed at the bottom.

For a long moment, she stared at the sheet of paper.

Then she did what she’d wanted to do since she’d hired the team.

She called the person who had prompted her to seek out Forensic Instincts to begin with—the person she trusted most with her life.

The phone rang three times before he answered.

“Devereaux.”

“Marc, it’s me.”

“Maddy? What’s wrong?” He sounded worried.

She told him what was going on.

“John is calling Patrick,” she said. “But I’d feel better if you were here. I’m scared. I need someone I...” She paused. “I need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

19

MARC AND PATRICK
reached Madeline’s building at the same time. Patrick had driven his car over, and Marc had grabbed a taxi, paying him double to get him to East Eighty-Second in record time.

Patrick was talking to the doorman, flashing his P.I. credentials and asking the uniformed man to watch his car, when Marc’s cab came screeching up to the curb.

Marc jumped out, threw a bunch of bills at the driver and almost collided with Patrick in the doorway.

“Hey.” Patrick’s brows rose in surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Madeline called me,” Marc said simply. “You check down by First Avenue. I think that’s where the car must be parked because Madeline’s apartment faces that side. I’ll go upstairs.”

Patrick didn’t ask any more questions. He simply nodded.

Marc flashed his ID as he blew by the doorman. Three minutes later, he was standing in front of Madeline’s apartment.

He knocked, and waited while John checked him out through the peephole.

The door opened. “Hey, Marc.” John stepped aside so he could enter. “Madeline mentioned that she was calling someone at FI. I think she’s overreacting. We’ve got things under control. I’m here with her, and Patrick is outside. He just texted me. If there’s someone watching this apartment, we’ll find out who it is and why they’re here.”

“Go help Patrick. I’ll watch Madeline.” Marc tossed his coat on the side table. “Where is she?”

“I’m right here.” Madeline walked out, having heard Marc’s voice. “Thank you for coming.”

Marc’s gut twisted. It wasn’t just seeing Maddy again. It was seeing her like this, still bruised, pale and thin and, despite the cashmere turtleneck she was wearing, shaking violently. He wanted to kill the perp himself.

John had already put on his jacket. “I’ll join Patrick and get going on this.”

The front door shut behind him.

With obvious effort, Madeline met Marc’s gaze and forced herself to speak candidly. “Whether or not I’m overreacting, this whole nightmare has become too much. So I don’t want a stranger sitting with me while we find out if a killer is parked outside my door, ready to finish what he started. I want the man who led me to Forensic Instincts to begin with.” She paused, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “As I said on the phone, I want you.”

Marc’s jaw tightened. “This is a mistake. I heard your voice and I just reacted. Old habits die hard. I’ll leave when John gets back.”

“No. You won’t. Nor do you want to.” Madeline didn’t back down. “You’re putting up that wall of yours again. Don’t. You’ve never been a coward. Don’t become one now.”

“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about keeping you safe.”

“It’s about both.” Madeline walked over until she was standing right in front of him. “It’s about wanting to keep me safe, and it’s about wanting me.” She flattened her palms on his chest, easing them slowly up and down over the wool of his sweater. “I want you, too,” she whispered.

Marc made a strangled sound. He was fighting with all his emotional strength. But despite everything he was capable of, everything he’d been and done, he couldn’t fight these feelings. When Madeline tilted back her head and gazed up at him with those incredible eyes, he was lost.

Slowly he raised his arms and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Maddy,” he murmured. “Dammit, Maddy.”

He wasn’t sure who moved first. He only knew that Madeline was flush against his body, her arms wrapped around his neck, and that their mouths were fused, devouring each other’s. It was Maddy who backed them into her bedroom, Maddy who turned the lock. But it was Marc who pulled away long enough to strip her sweater over her head, unhook her bra and tug off the rest of her clothes.

She was as breathtaking as ever.

Madeline stood still for an instant and let Marc’s hungry gaze rake her. Then she walked over to the bed, slid between the sheets and reached out her hand. “Hurry.”

That’s all Marc had to hear. He was naked in under a minute and in her bed in less than that.

He groaned aloud at the feel of her body against his—it was like coming home and coming back to life all at once. He didn’t think, didn’t care, didn’t listen to the voice of reason in his head.

He just made love to her, caressing her skin, inhaling her fragrance. He kissed the fading bruises on her face and the dark splotches of purple on her ribs.

Madeline shivered with each touch, moaning aloud when they became more intimate. “I can’t wait,” she managed.

“Neither can I.” Marc eased his body over hers, careful not to give her his full weight. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“The only way you could hurt me is by stopping. Don’t.”

“I can’t,” he replied in a husky voice filled with desire. “It’s way too late for that.”

There were no more words, just the sound of their rough breathing as Marc eased himself between her thighs. He shuddered as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Okay?” he asked, needing to make sure she wasn’t in pain.

“No, not okay,” Madeline answered breathlessly. “Not yet.” Lifting her hips, she urged him inside her.

Marc lost it completely.

Pushing all the way in, he braced himself on his elbows, holding himself that way until the muscles in his arms were bulging. He gritted his teeth, felt sweat dripping down his spine and fought for control.

“No.” Madeline pulled at his biceps. “Let go. I want to feel all of you on me and in me.” Her arms and legs urged him down to her.

When Maddy began to shift under him, begging him to give her everything, Marc gave it up. He lowered his body onto hers, pushing even farther inside her. He savored the feel of her and started to move, slowly at first, and then faster, more urgently. Maddy arched into each thrust, moaning aloud and drawing him deeper and deeper inside her.

Time suspended as their bodies became one, moving in perfect unison.

Then the world blew apart, all in one exquisite, poignant moment.

Maddy came all around Marc, crying out his name and raking her fingernails down his back. He let out a guttural shout, grabbing hold of the headboard bars and pouring himself into her.

Time passed.

Then slowly, gingerly, Marc released his death grip on the headboard and gave Maddy all his weight, pressing her into the mattress.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Madeline began to laugh. “That’s what you said the first time. History repeats itself.”

“In more ways than one.” Marc tried to move and failed. “I should get up. I’m probably hurting you.”

“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.”

Marc’s lips thinned, and he didn’t smile.

Casey took note of that. “Be safe,” she said into the phone. “And call me as soon as you can.” A pause. “I miss you, too.” She dropped her voice. “I love you.”

She disconnected the call.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Marc. “I know that Patrick flew over to Madeline’s to check out a suspicious-looking car. Did he text you?”

“He didn’t have to. I was there.”

Casey studied his face. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Marc crossed over, pulled out the chair next to Casey’s and sat, leaning forward in his more aggressive stance.

“The car took off before Patrick and John could track it down.”

“Patrick and John,” Casey repeated. “Does that mean you stayed with Madeline?”

“Yeah, it does.” Marc never hedged. “She called and asked me to come. So I went.” He put his hands on his knees. “Look, Casey, let’s not play twenty questions. I’ll save you the trouble. Things have changed between Madeline and me.”

“What a surprise,” came Casey’s dry response.

Marc ignored the sarcasm. “The point is, things also have to change on this case. I want to keep an eye on Madeline. If the killer is aggressively moving in, one security guard’s not enough.” He held up his palm. “And before you ask, no, that second somebody won’t be Patrick. It’ll be me.”

Casey fiddled with her pen for a long time.

“I told you what would happen if you let your personal feelings take over this investigation,” she said at last. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, even after you practically broke a kid’s neck because he was about to mug someone who looked like Madeline. But I can’t ignore the obvious any longer—especially not after what you just said.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to take a backseat. Interview Casper with Claire, and then stick with behind-the-scenes work. We’ve got a couple of new cases on the horizon. Get involved with those. But there’s no way you’re going to be clearheaded enough to safeguard Madeline. You’re off this one, Marc.”

“The hell I am.” Marc’s eyes blazed and a muscle worked in his jaw. “I love Madeline. Her life’s in danger. I’m not working on some bullshit case because you’re overreacting to my abilities to deal with this. I’m damned good at what I do. There’d be a huge hole in the investigation if I wasn’t a part of it. Forget it, Casey, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?” Casey rose, her own eyes fiery. “That’s not your call. It’s mine. And I’ve made it.”

“And I’ve ignored it.”

“This is a team, Marc, but it’s not a democracy.
I
make the final decisions here. And I’ve given you mine. I didn’t ask if you agreed with it. I gave you a direct order.”

“I don’t take direct orders. My military days are behind me. I respect the fact that you run this company, but this is one time I won’t let it stop me. Fire me if you want to. That’s your right. I’ll still do what I have to do to keep Madeline safe. You can’t prevent that.”

The words
fire me
crackled between them like a lit fuse.

“Is that an ultimatum?” Casey demanded. “Because if it is—”

“Aren’t you being a total hypocrite?” Marc interrupted what he knew was coming. His stare went straight through her. “Hutch was so emotionally involved in a couple of recent cases where your life was in jeopardy, he was practically part of the FI team.”

“That’s irrelevant,” Casey shot back. “Hutch doesn’t work for me. You do—at least for now. His conflict of interests affected the FBI, and that was his challenge to deal with. This is strictly a Forensic Instincts matter. I need my team sharp and with no emotional ties to our clients. You tried that path. It didn’t work. As you said, you’re in love with Madeline. You always have been. But you kept things in check. That’s no longer the case.”

“This sucks, Casey.” Marc stood up and began pacing around the room. “I wanted to do this aboveboard. I could have gone on with this relationship and said nothing to you. But I wouldn’t insult you like that.”

“But you’d insult me by refusing to respect my decision?”

“It wasn’t meant as an insult.” Marc stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Can we take this down a notch?”

Casey nodded, looking as trapped by the predicament as Marc did.

“I don’t want to leave Forensic Instincts. It’s where I belong, and this team means a lot to me. I’m sorry I was insubordinate. You know that’s not my style. So let’s put it differently. I’ve never asked you for special consideration, but I’m asking now. I believe I can be even more effective because of my feelings for Madeline. I know what I have to do. Will you please trust me to do it?”