Mad Love: Madison (18 page)

3:02
P.M.

Madison picked up her purse and stepped out into
the hallway in front of her office. She waved at Becca and Keith who were
huddled by the receptionist’s desk as she walked by.

“What’s going on?” Madison asked.

“We were just talking about Quincy,” Becca said.
“I still can’t believe someone killed him.”

“Neither can I.” She held up her purse. “I just
got this strange call from my downstairs neighbor about a leak above her
bedroom, so I’m going to head home and see what’s going on.”

“Might as well,” Becca said gesturing to the
window where large snowflakes flew past the window. “They’re predicting more
snow tonight. I’m betting the courthouse will be closed tomorrow, and even if
it isn’t, I’m working from home.”

Keith made a show of looking around as Madison
walked to the elevator. “And where’s your bodyguard?”

“At the police station dropping off the things he
got from Quincy’s neighbor.” Madison didn’t bother mentioning that he also said
something about swinging by the news station and talking to the reporter who
first discovered Quincy’s body. “When he shows up, could you tell him that I
went home?”

“Maybe you should call him,” Keith said.

Becca rolled her eyes. “That’s a brilliant idea.
I’m sure she never thought of that.”

Keith raised his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by
it. I just figured that since they didn’t know each other that well, that she
might not have wanted to bother him and that it would be a good idea…” He
trailed off uncertainly as he gave them a helpless look. “To check in with him
because he’s supposed to be a private, you know, detective. Not that he could
really help you that much.”

Madison’s eyebrows lifted questioningly.

“He’s only been at this for less than a year,” he
said.

“He was in the Naval Criminal Investigative
Service for over five years,” Becca pointed out.

“Not the same thing as this,” Keith said. “This
is altogether a different thing.” He looked at Madison. “Did you call him?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” She pressed
the elevator down button. “His phone’s just going to voice mail.”

“Some bodyguard,” Keith said, trying to keep his
voice light. “Hey, give me a few minutes to collect my things and I’ll give you
a ride home.”

“Did your downstairs neighbor call you about a
leak too?” Becca asked. “You just came back from a two hour lunch.”

“It was a working lunch, okay?” He gestured to
the snow falling outside the window. “Besides, I’m getting out of here while
the getting is good. I can work from home if necessary. Come on, Madison, I’ll
be your protector and drive you home.”

Madison shook her head as she entered the
elevator. “Thanks, Keith, but I’ll be fine.”

“Madison,” Becca chided gently, “remember that
story I told you about my friend.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ve already called
security and they’re going to walk me to my car. If Ethan calls tell him I’m on
my way home.” She waved good-bye as she entered the elevator.

Keith reached out and held open the elevator
door. “Are you sure you don’t want some company? Paul could…”

“The police are looking for him. I doubt he’s
going to try anything right now. Don’t worry; I’ll be fine,” she said with a confident
nod as the elevator doors closed. She sagged against the wall as the elevator
carried her to the lobby where a security guard was waiting for her.

She smiled gratefully as he entered. “Seen Paul
Harris today?”

Ted Franks, a burly six feet two, man with a head
of white hair, shook his head. “Not today, but don’t worry, we’re watching for
him.”

“That’s good to know,” she said as they exited
the elevator and walked to her car.

She drove home almost in a daze as she thought
about Quincy and about what he must have gone through. It was still so surreal.
Paul Harris didn’t seem like a psychopath to her. He seemed like a jerk who
would cheat on his wife with anyone in a skirt. Vanessa even called him a
coward, yet he didn’t seem so cowardly to Madison when he confronted her a
couple of days ago.

Her mind still focused on Paul, she automatically
turned into the Waverly Hotel parking lot on her way home. The Waverly was a
four story dingy little hotel that probably had been quite nice half a century ago,
but it had now fallen into disrepair.
Why did he decide to stay here? Was it
because she lived only a block away?

A police car was parked under the green awning.
Two police officers stood nearby staring up at the second floor as they talked
to one another. She drove passed and pulled into the nearest parking spot.
Placing the car in park, she followed their gaze to the second floor.

It took a while, but eventually she saw Detective
Kim look out of one of the windows, and then a few seconds later, Paul came
into view.

Good
, she thought breathing a small sigh of relief.
At
least the police were questioning him and with any luck, he’s confessing and
this nightmare will be over soon.

She started to put her car in reverse when she
glanced down the street.

Her heart skipped a beat as the same dirty blue
sedan she saw the night before turned down the street and passed the Waverly.

“If Paul’s up there talking to the police, who’s
driving the car?” she muttered to herself.
An accomplice, maybe? The helpful
psychic that told the media where to find Quincy’s body?

She tried to get a glimpse of the driver as the
car slowly rolled passed her, but like before, the dust and dirt on the windows
prevented her from seeing anything more than a dark shape behind the wheel of
the car.

She did notice that the car had a couple of new
features as it drove away. A black trash bag covered its busted out rear window
and one of its taillights appeared to be broken.

She turned her attention back to the Waverly just
in time to see the cop car pull away from the curb and exit the parking lot. A
few seconds later, Paul Harris emerged from the hotel with an angry scowl
across his face. He made a right out of the building and took off down the
street on foot.

Madison backed out of her parking spot and drove
to her apartment quickly. She pulled into the parking garage and instead of
taking the elevator to her apartment, stepped out and looked around.

She spotted the car instantly.

It was just sitting across the street near the
entrance to the park.

Determined to see who the driver was
,
she hesitantly
stepped off the curb and began to trudge toward the car, making sure to come in
from behind. With any luck, she hoped, all of the dust and grime on the windows
would prevent the driver from seeing her approach, she thought, pulling out the
knit cap from her coat and pulling it down over her head.

She was only a few feet away from the car’s
bumper when the car began to reverse slowly. She hopped back onto the curb
hurriedly, as it continued to backup. She took a step back and then another.
She was just about to turn and run inside when she felt her back collide with
someone.

She whirled around, surprised to see Paul Harris
down on the ground.

“What are you doing?” she asked, turning to look
over her shoulder at the blue car.

“Me? I’m just trying to walk down the street. You
are the one that ran into me.”

“Why are you in front of my building?”

He stood up, sneering as he shook the snow off
his pants. “I told you. I was taking a walk.”

“In this weather?” she asked as the snow fell
around them.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now? I thought you
couldn’t talk to me. I thought it was unethical.”

“Yeah, but we’re not going to talk about the divorce,
are we? So, I think it will be okay. Why are you here?”

Paul lifted his hands into the air. “Finally. At
least you’re now willing actually to speak to me like another human being.”

“I asked you a question.”

“I think a better question is why you were in
front of my building?” he asked as he advanced toward her. “Were you waiting
for the police to haul me off in handcuffs? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Madison backed up a step and then stopped. She
glanced back at the blue car waiting just a few feet away.

“I ought to have you arrested,” Paul said coming
within inches of her face.

“For what?”

“Assault.” He gestured to the snow caked on his
pant legs. “Here I was taking an innocent stroll down the street when you
suddenly pushed me to the ground.” He pressed his hand to his back. “In fact, I
think I may be seriously injured.”

Madison gritted her teeth. “I didn’t push you. I
stepped back and you ran into me.”

Shaking his finger in the air, he stepped back.
“You lawyers. You’re always twisting things around.”

Madison swung around slowly as he circled her.
Her eyes flew open wide as the blue car’s engine revved.

“You know what?” he asked almost gleeful. “Perhaps
I should forget the cops. Maybe I’ll just make a formal complaint to the bar. I’ll
have your law license taken away. Ruin your life like you’re trying to ruin
mine.” His round face broke out into a huge grin. “I think that would be
fitting.” He grimaced in pain as he clutched his back. “Ow. You know I probably
won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

It came to her suddenly as she stared from Paul
to the blue sedan that Paul didn’t kill Quincy and he wasn’t going to kill her.
He was nothing more than a perpetual plaintiff, settling his scores by
complaining to the courts. Realizing she had nothing to fear from Paul, she
ignored him as she stared at the blue sedan.

“Are you even listening to me?” Paul asked as he
stepped in front of her, blocking her view.

Madison angled her head to the side. If she could
get the license plate, then maybe…

Paul yanked on her arm bringing her around to
face him. Releasing her arm almost immediately, he held up his hands in
surrender.

“Don’t touch me again,” Madison said, her eyes
flashing.

“Look, sweetheart, I’m a nice guy, so I’m going
to do you a favor. I’ll forget about this little incident on one condition. I
want you to talk some sense into my wife.”

Madison crossed her arms. “First of all, I’m not your
sweetheart. Second of all, your wife has made up her mind. Go ahead and call
the police. Call the bar for all I care. Call whoever you want. It’s not going
to make a bit of difference. If you want some helpful advice, you should go talk
to your attorney. Hopefully she can talk some sense into you.” She glanced back
towards the sedan.

“Who is that?” Paul asked, taking off his glasses
and wiping them on his sleeve. He squinted, trying to get a good look at the
car. “Is that your boyfriend in there? Is he going to swoop in and save you
from me?”

“No, he’s not. I have no idea who that is.”

Paul smiled brightly. “Well, I know who that is.”

She whipped her head back towards him. “Who?”

“He’s a witness. I bet he saw you push me down.
Even if he didn’t, he’s watched you talk to me, which,”—he looked around
conspiratorially as he lowered his voice—“is completely unethical by the way.”

“You are just not going to let that go, are you?”
When he started to approach the car, she lightly touched his arm. “I wouldn’t
if I were you.”

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He
jerked his arm away before starting for the car. “Hey, Mister,” he called out
as he neared the driver’s door.

The sedan pulled away from the curb and continued
down the street while Paul waved his hands in the air, yelling stop.

 Madison waited until the car had disappeared
around the corner before she crossed the street.

“This isn’t over,” Paul shouted as she walked
away. “Do yourself a favor, talk to my wife. Otherwise, I’ll call the bar. I’ll
tell them that you assaulted me. You’ll lose your license.”

Madison pulled her card out of her purse and inserted
it into the lock. As soon as the door closed behind her, she dashed up her
stairs.

Madison glanced up with a frown as the sound of
classical music filling the hallway greeted her.

She hurried down the hallway, surprised to find
the door to her apartment wide open. Anxious to turn off the music, she rushed
inside. However, once in her apartment, her attention shifted immediately to
the kitchen and the water that was spilling over the sink and cascading down
the cabinet to the floor.

“Sarah!” she called out as she raced toward the
sink and shut off the faucet. She ignored the puddle of water on the floor and
walked into the living room.

Her mouth fell open as she looked around.
Scattered around the room were the remains of the Christmas decorations they
had put up. Her gaze flew to the corner of the room where the Christmas tree
had been. The only thing that remained was their gold embroidered tree skirt. In
the center was the shattered frame Becca had given her for her birthday and the
torn scraps of Ethan’s picture.