Simon Says Die

by LENA DIAZ,

  Tomorrow he’d get her laptop, and look through Damon’s files. But the way things were going, he didn’t hold out hope that the files would reveal much. Other than Madison’s statements about her husband, there was nothing else backing up anything that she’d said about him, or that she even had a stalker to begin with.

  Not. One. Damn. Thing.

  MADISON WAS MUCH calmer the next morning as she got out of Pierce’s car at her house to get her laptop. He was trying to help her. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He couldn’t help it if he had a suspicious, detective’s brain. When she thought about everything from his perspective, she could understand his skepticism.

  Especially since she hadn’t told him everything.

  “I can open my own door.” She stepped in front of him to unlock and open her front door.

  His hand closed around hers. He, too, was calmer today. There was nothing of his anger from last night in his eyes, in the gentle touch of his hand on hers. “We have a truce. Remember? Part of our deal is that I’m supposed to protect you. Stop fighting me.”

  She relaxed her grip beneath his. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this even more difficult for you.” She pulled her hand back.

  “Even more difficult?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “You know, being around me. I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel you had to, because of your promise to my brother. I’m not trying to be difficult. Really, I’m not.” She waved her hand again. “I think it just comes naturally.”

  His lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile, but then he gave in to the urge and grinned. “Being with you isn’t that much of a hardship. I happen to enjoy your waspish ways.”

  “My waspish ways?” She put her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to—”

  “Uh-uh.” Laughter was heavy in his voice. “You can’t apologize and ruin it by doing the same thing you just apologized for.”

  She blew out a long breath. “Fine. Let’s get my computer. I’ll try to be nice.”

  “Don’t try too hard. Then you wouldn’t be your sweet, stubborn self.”

  “Now who’s being ‘waspish’?”

  He laughed. “I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” His smile faded. “Stay behind me until I check everything out.”

  She raised her hand and saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

  He rolled his eyes and opened the door. He immediately held his hand out to stop her. “Hold it.”

  “The alarm is beeping. I have to key in the code before it goes off.”

  “I’ll get it. Wait here.” He stepped farther into the foyer to the keypad.

  She looked down and saw what he’d seen, a white sheet of paper on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under the door. She leaned down to pick it up.

  “Don’t touch it.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him back onto the porch. He squatted down to look at the note. As soon as he read it, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.

  A sick feeling flashed through Madison. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Hamilton.”

  “No, don’t. Please don’t call him. Can’t we just ignore this? It’s not like he’ll figure out who left the note anyway, or how they left it. He’ll just assume I’m a nutcase, or worse, arrest me like he threatened.”

  “He won’t arrest you. Even he can’t ignore this.”

  His worry began to filter into her. She leaned over his shoulder to read the words printed on the sheet of paper.

  I’M COMING FOR YOU.

  MADISON JUMPED UP from the wing chair across from Lieutenant Hamilton.

  “We’re nowhere near to being finished here,” he said.

  She waved her hand toward Pierce, who was sitting beside Hamilton on the couch, and the three uniformed policemen milling around her family room.

  “I don’t think I have to worry about my safety inside the house with all of these guns sitting around. I’m just going to the kitchen to make us some coffee.”

  “It’s not your safety I’m concerned about. I don’t want you finding another note for me to look into.”

  “Knock it off,” Pierce said. “Madison didn’t have an opportunity to leave that note. She’s not the one who wrote it.”

  “Typed it you mean.”

  “So, your theory is she printed it while I wasn’t looking and shoved it under the door? Again, while I wasn’t looking?”

  “You said you brought her here to pack her things yesterday. Were you with her every moment? I assume you carried her luggage to the car. Did she wait inside, maybe make that last-minute check women like to do, to see if she’d gotten everything while you were outside at the car? And was she the last one out the door?”

  Pierce didn’t answer.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  While Pierce and Hamilton were busy arguing, Madison headed into the kitchen. She pulled the pocket door closed behind her. But it only slightly dampened the sound of angry voices coming from the other room.

  No surprise, Lieutenant Hamilton was playing the same old tune. He was convinced she was some nutcase who wanted attention. At least he hadn’t arrested her, yet.

  She grabbed the coffee can and filters out of the pantry, then slumped against the counter. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was losing her mind. Nothing in her life seemed to make sense anymore. And she was getting so tired of arguing, of trying to make everyone believe her, to listen to her.

  She was starting not to even believe herself.

  For the first time since calling Logan the day of the shooting, she seriously considered calling him and telling him everything that was going on. He was one of the smartest men she’d ever met. He’d be able to help her, wouldn’t he?

  She rested her elbows on the countertop and dropped her head in her hands. Logan was smart, yes. He’d be able to help, but then . . . his curiosity would drive him to keep digging, and digging, and then, when he dug far enough, he’d know her secrets.

  What would happen then? No matter how hard she tried to think of a good outcome, she couldn’t. No, she couldn’t tell him. Not now, not ever. And somehow, she had to keep Pierce from finding out.

  Before he destroyed her.

  “IF YOU’RE NOT going to have forensics look at that note, then give it to me,” Pierce said. “I’ll look into it. I want whoever is stalking Madison to stop.”

  Lieutenant Hamilton flipped the plastic baggie over on the coffee table to see the back of the note that was inside. “I want all of this to stop too. We just have different views about how to make it stop.”

  Pierce was suffering many of the same doubts as the lieutenant. But until he knew for sure what was going on, he had to play devil’s advocate, and make sure Hamilton saw all the possibilities. “What does she have to gain by faking any of this?”

  Hamilton handed the sealed baggie with the note to one of the policemen to record into evidence. “That’s a good question. Since you two seem so cozy, maybe you can help me figure that out. Tell me about her. Should I trust what she says? Has she ever lied to you?”

  Pierce started to say “no,” but he couldn’t very well do that without lying himself.

  “Uh-huh,” Hamilton said.

  “She wouldn’t lie about that note, or about seeing Damon at the yardman’s house, or about thinking it was her supposedly dead husband who shot at her in the park. There wouldn’t be any reason to lie.”

  “Look, you know the long hours involved with law enforcement. We’re overworked, and we never have enough time in a day to take care of what needs to be done. In spite of that, my team has responded every time Mrs. McKinley called. We’ve looked into every single complaint. But so far, other than you getting nicked in the park the other day, none of the calls have amounted to any real, verifiable threats. I can’t keep investing my department’s resources on wild-goose chases, not when I have some ‘Simon says’ nut killing people and the press hounding me every day.”

>   “Has there been another murder, since that kid on East River Street?”

  “Not yet, but you and I both know there will be if I don’t stop whoever is behind this. I tapped your boss for help just this morning. He’s analyzing the ‘Simon says’ notes, and helping us profile the killer. I’ve got every business in the historic district after me to arrest someone. The tourism business has plummeted. That’s my focus right now.”

  “Meaning you’re dismissing Madison’s stalker. You aren’t going to take this latest note seriously.”

  Hamilton shook his head. “Exactly the opposite. I’m going to this note very seriously. I can’t afford to keep splitting my resources like this, so I’m going to throw some manpower at her supposed stalker to get this wrapped up. I’m going to figure out where the paper the note was printed on came from, where the ink came from, the type of printer that printed it, who bought the printer that printed the note, and finally, the computer that was used to compose the note. And then, I’ll arrest whoever typed it. It just so happens that I believe I’m going to find out that Mrs. McKinley typed it on her computer, printed it on her printer, and she planted it under her front door as she was leaving with you yesterday so you could find it today.”

  “Why? Why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know. Has it occurred to you the woman needs help? Mental help?”

  Pierce shoved off the couch and paced in front of Hamilton. “You’ve totally lost perspective on this case.”

  The lieutenant shrugged. “Some might say it’s you who has lost their perspective. Alex told me that you and Mrs. McKinley used to date, that you were quite serious at one point.”

  Pierce stopped in front of him. “You have no business talking to Alex about my past.”

  “He’s worried about you, and he has the same doubts about Mrs. McKinley that I do. As soon as it’s a decent hour, I’m calling a judge for a search warrant. Until then, I’ll have Officer Drayton”—he nodded at the policeman to his immediate right—“ensure Mrs. McKinley doesn’t destroy any evidence.”

  Pierce swore and headed through the archway into Madison’s home office. He stood at the window, looking out onto the street. He took a bracing breath, grimacing when his ribs protested. How had it come to this? How had everything gotten so totally screwed up? He stood looking out the window for several minutes, trying to make sense of everything, to clear his thoughts.

  When Pierce finally returned to the family room for round two, Hamilton was sitting on the couch, but there was no one else in the room. A feeling of dread shot through him. “Where are the police officers who were in here earlier?”

  “Drayton is standing guard out front, to ensure no one leaves with any of the evidence—namely Mrs. McKinley’s computer and printer.”

  Pierce shook his head at that nonsense. “And the other officer?”

  “I told him to keep an eye on Mrs. McKinley.”

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to bait her?” He whirled around and headed toward the kitchen. He wouldn’t put it past Hamilton to purposely try to goad Madison, to see what she might reveal if she lost her temper.

  MADISON GLANCED UP from the automatic coffeemaker when the pocket door between the family room and kitchen opened. A police officer stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Ma’am,” he said. “The lieutenant wanted me to check on you, see if you needed any help in here.”

  Right. Suddenly Hamilton was concerned about her. She didn’t believe that for a second.

  She pressed the coffeemaker’s ON button. “I think I can handle the incredibly difficult task of making coffee all by myself. Thanks anyway.”

  When he made no move to leave, she leaned back against the counter. “Was there something else?”

  He leaned back against the counter across from her, on the opposite side of the galley-style kitchen. “Just following orders, ma’am. I’m supposed to stay with you, until the lieutenant says otherwise.”

  She straightened and tapped her fingernails on the countertop. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You seem a bit young to be hard of hearing. I asked . . . How old are you?”

  His brows drew down. “Thirty-two.”

  “Then I suggest you stop calling me ma’am. I’m several years younger than you, sir.”

  She turned and yanked open a cabinet to get some coffee cups.

  “Let me help you with that, ma’am.” The police officer stepped forward.

  Madison stepped in his way. “What did you just call me?”

  “Do we have a problem, here?” He took another step closer, crowding her.

  She poked him in the chest. “The only problem I have is some policeman standing in my kitchen, watching my every move as if I were a criminal. Back. Off.”

  “I don’t think you want to do that, ma’am,” the officer said, grabbing her hand.

  “Let me go,” she gritted out between clenched teeth, “or I promise you’ll regret it.”

  “Is that a threat?” he reached behind his back.

  She tugged her hand out of his grasp, ready to give him hell.

  The pocket door slid open and Pierce stepped inside. His eyes widened, then narrowed when he saw the two of them. “Get your hands off your weapon, officer.” He stepped between the policeman and Madison, using his bigger bulk and height as a shield. “Now.” His voice was low and deadly.

  “Mrs. McKinley just threatened an officer of the law, sir.”

  “Oh, now he calls me Mrs. McKinley,” Madison grumbled.

  “Madison?”

  “Yes, Pierce?”

  “Shut up.”

  Her anger left her in a rush. She couldn’t help but grin. Prim and proper Pierce Buchanan had probably never told anyone to shut up in his entire life.

  Hamilton stepped into the room, his brows climbing as he took in the stand-off between Pierce and the police officer. “What’s going on here?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and glared at his officer. “Go stay with Williams.”

  “Yes, sir.” The officer left the room, looking relieved.

  “You’d better keep a tighter rein on your men,” Pierce warned. Without waiting for Hamilton’s response, he grabbed Madison’s hand. “Come, on. Let’s wait in the family room.”

  She half-ran behind him to keep up. “Wait for what? I’ve already answered Hamilton’s questions. He has the note. He should leave now.”

  Pierce glanced at his watch. “In about another hour, he’s going to make a call, to a judge.”

  She plopped down on one of the couches, starting to feel nervous at the expression on his face. “And what happens after he makes this call?”

  “All hell breaks loose.”

  MADISON SAT ON the end of the couch, as far away from Lieutenant Hamilton as she could. The uniformed police officers were sitting in her home office now, instead of the family room, at Pierce’s insistence. He, Hamilton, and Madison were sitting in the family room. Madison was pretty sure he’d done that to keep her from slugging one of them and being hauled off to jail.

  One of these days she was going to have to get her temper under control.

  The doorbell rang. Both Hamilton and Pierce jumped up and headed out of the family room into the foyer. Madison clenched her fists, determined not to let her emotions get the best of her. She knew what that doorbell meant.

  Hamilton’s warrant had come through.

  He was going to take her computer and her printer. And there wasn’t anything she could do about it. It was ludicrous that someone would think she’d had anything to do with those threatening notes. Why would she do that? It made no sense.

  Hamilton gave her a smug look as he headed back through the family room with a white piece of paper in his hand. He slapped it into Pierce’s palm before going into Madison’s home office.

  Pierce sat down next to her. “I guess I don’t have to tell
you the search warrant came through. Want to see it?” He held up the piece of paper.

  “No thanks.”

  He slid the paper into the inside pocket of his jacket just as the doorbell rang again.

  Madison jumped up, but Pierce placed his hand firmly on her shoulder. “I’ll get it. Stay here.”

  She plopped back down on the couch.

  Pierce disappeared back into the foyer. The sound of several voices, familiar voices, had Madison jumping off the couch and heading into the foyer as well.

  Pierce gave her an exasperated look when she joined him, but he didn’t try to stop her.

  Braedon and Matt stood in the open doorway, and Madison could see several work trucks behind them, and a group of men unloading equipment off the trucks.

  “Are you here to dig the footers? I thought you weren’t coming until next week,” she said.

  “We had a cancellation,” Braedon said. “Figured we could fit your project into the schedule today, if you don’t mind.”

  “We do mind,” Pierce said.

  “No, we don’t,” Madison said. “I appreciate you fitting me in. Come on. I’ll get you some coffee. I could use some friendly company around here. And then you can start right in on the footers. There’s no reason not to.”

  “What’s going on here?” Hamilton stepped out of the front room.

  Madison took Braedon’s arm and tugged him toward the kitchen. “None of your business.” She offered him a smirk. “Come on Matt. I just made a fresh pot.”

  Braedon glanced back at Pierce and grinned. “Sorry, little brother. Can’t disappoint the lady. Matt, you heard her. Come on.”

  Pierce shook his head at her, but he stepped in front of the lieutenant to provide interference.

  Madison headed into the kitchen and grabbed two fresh cups.

  Braedon and Matt leaned against the far counter.

  “What’s with all the police cars out front?” Braedon asked.

  “Part of the continuing saga of my stalker problem. How do you take your coffee?” She reached for the cream and sugar.