by LENA DIAZ,
They weren’t good.
The sun coming in through Madison’s bedroom window had him blinking against the harsh light. He’d gone upstairs late last night, so tired he couldn’t focus anymore. He’d intended to take a quick nap, but the sun coming through the window told him he’d slept far longer than he’d meant to.
He cursed and jumped out of bed. He rushed through his morning routine, taking a mostly cold shower to try to wake up. Braedon had brought him a travel bag with fresh clothes from his house. Pierce didn’t bother with the shaver. He threw on some slacks and a dress shirt and padded in his bare feet down the stairs.
He nodded at Lieutenant Hamilton sitting on one of the couches as he headed into the kitchen for some caffeine. Hamilton looked as bad as Pierce felt. In spite of his doubts about Madison, Hamilton was doing everything in his power to help find her, making Pierce regret the bad thoughts he’d had about the man.
Most of them.
He poured a cup of coffee and took a quick sip, grimacing at the bitter taste, but welcoming the caffeine. He called out to Hamilton from the kitchen. “Heard anything?”
The lieutenant let out a loud yawn. “No, too early.”
Pierce took another deep sip. Tessa was still following up on the one lead they had—the sighting at the Super 8 motel yesterday. She was a bulldog when it came to leads, and he had every faith that if there was something to find, she’d find it. She was young, inexperienced but tenacious and clever. If anyone could figure out what really happened at that motel, Tessa could.
Or Logan.
He was the best investigator Pierce had ever met. He could look at a series of seemingly unrelated facts and see the pattern that revealed the truth.
Pierce glanced at his watch. Logan had said he’d try to get a flight out of Italy last night, but he had to take his bride, Amanda, to leave her with his mother and the mother’s new husband. Logan refused to bring his wife to Savannah. He said she’d been through far too much to be plopped back in the middle of turmoil again.
Pierce understood Logan’s stance, but he hated that he had to wait that much longer for Logan to get here and pitch in with the investigation.
He drained his cup, refilled it, then filled one for Hamilton.
The lieutenant nodded gratefully when Pierce set the cup down in front of him.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Pierce said. “You haven’t tasted how bad it is.”
Hamilton laughed, a hollow, tired sound. “As long as it keeps me awake, I don’t care what it tastes like. Heard anything from Mrs. McKinley’s brother?”
Pierce sat down across from Hamilton. “Last I heard, he’d just booked a flight to France to drop off his wife. Should’ve gotten there sometime during the night. Hopefully he’s on his way here by now.”
“I hope he’s as good as you say he is. I’m about out of ideas.”
“He is.” The sound of the front door opening had him turning around. His brothers, all of them, came through the door, with Alex following close behind.
“None of you should be here.” Pierce pulled a chair back from the grouping in the family room so Austin could scoot his wheelchair up. “You did more than enough yesterday, helping with the search. You can’t have had more than a couple of hours sleep.”
“As ugly as you look this morning,” Braedon said, “I’m sure we got more sleep than you did.”
Alex shook his head at Braedon. “Matt guilted us into coming. He wants us to work on Madison’s renovations. He thinks all the problems B-and-B has had over here are because someone was trying to stop us from digging up the yard, that if we work on the footers, we might find something important that will help with the investigation.”
“I should have thought of that,” Pierce said.
“We’ve got a team outside right now getting it started,” Matt said. He crossed over to sit next to the lieutenant. “I want to know what you’ve done so far to find her.”
Hamilton raised a brow and glanced across at Pierce. “He thinks he can figure out where she is when half my police force hasn’t had any luck?”
“Apparently he does.” Pierce smiled his first smile since Madison’s disappearance.
Matt went into the front room and grabbed the map off the table. He came back in the family room and plopped down again. “What are all these red circles for?”
Hamilton eyed him much like he would a rattlesnake, but he answered Matt’s questions.
Alex sat beside Pierce. “I told them the police probably wouldn’t want anyone in the backyard with everything going on, but I think they all feel a bit helpless. If they can work on the renovations, it will make them feel needed.”
“I don’t see any problem with them working out back, as long as they stay out of everyone’s way. The police are finished back there.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need.” He stood. “Come on, boys. It’s time to teach an old lawyer how to dig footers.”
Chapter Seventeen
AT THE NOON hour, Braedon ordered boxed lunches to be delivered from a local café. After everyone wolfed down their sandwiches, they headed out again on their assigned search routes. Work continued on the footers in the backyard, but even though the footers were being dug at a record pace, nothing of interest had turned up. No clues about why someone was so determined to stop the renovations, if that was even the case.
Pierce rounded the house from checking on his brothers in the backyard and was about to head inside when Hamilton drove up. Pierce waited for the lieutenant to join him before going inside.
“Finally got a few hours sleep?” Pierce asked.
“Had to,” Hamilton said. “It’s hard to keep the respect of your troops when they wake you up in a puddle of drool on the coffee table.”
Pierce slapped him on the back. “Tessa just got here. She said she has some news.”
“Any news has got to be better than the big zero we have right now.”
Pierce wasn’t so sure he agreed. Tessa had flatly refused to give him any information on the phone, and she hadn’t sounded enthusiastic about what she’d found. Instead, she’d sounded downright grim.
Tessa glanced up from her seat on the couch when they came inside. “You’re not going to like this.”
“I didn’t think you’d come here to deliver good news.” Pierce sat down on the other couch. Hamilton took one of the chairs.
Tessa set a file on the coffee table. “We can go over this in more detail later. I’ll just give you the highlights. As far as the motel is concerned, the woman in those photographs is definitely not under any duress. I see no signs of coercion, and I interviewed three witnesses that saw her and the man she was with entering the motel room. All three were positive, without exception, that the two were an amorous couple.”
Pierce scrubbed his face. “And you believe the woman was Madison.”
Tessa nodded. “I believe the facts. None of the facts support the conclusion that it’s not her.”
“We’ll come back to that later. What else do you have?”
She flipped the folder open and spread out a stack of faxes and printouts. “This is the dossier Casey—” she stopped, glancing up at Hamilton, as if she’d just realized she’d said something she shouldn’t have said.
He rolled his eyes. “Like I didn’t suspect Agent Matthews was helping you two. I’m sure he’s focusing on the ‘Simon says’ case too. Go on.” He waved for her to continue.
She nodded her thanks. “Casey dug as much as he could on Damon McKinley. The man is a saint. He doesn’t have a criminal record, not even a speeding ticket. He was born and raised in Montana, was well-respected in his community. The only negative about him that I could find is that he had a lot of health problems, and he didn’t seem to allow anyone to get close to him. He was reclusive, no friends, no family. No one knew him all that well, but he was generous with local charities and had an excellent reputation as a philanthropist in his community back in Montana.”
&nbs
p; “How far back did you go?” Pierce asked.
“All the way . . . birth.”
That feeling of unease was starting up inside Pierce again. “That’s not the picture Madison painted of him.”
“He was an entrepreneur, like she said. He made a lot of money, but he gave away half as much as he earned.”
Pierce stood and paced behind the couch. “Why did he move to New York if he was such a respected saint in his hometown?”
“That I can’t answer. My theory is he got bored, wanted new challenges, new territory to invest in and build his wealth. I’m sorry, Pierce, but this man doesn’t sound like someone who would fake his death and stalk his former wife.”
Pierce stopped behind her. “Are you telling me you can’t find one single bad thing on him?”
“Not so far.”
The front door opened and Matt stepped inside. When he saw Tessa, he frowned and strode over to the couch.
Tessa barely spared him a glance. She looked over at Hamilton, who was following the conversation with fascinated interest. “On paper at least, Damon McKinley was a model citizen who had nothing to gain by faking his death. Madison, on the other hand, had everything to gain. She didn’t become wealthy in her own right until after she inherited her father’s money. Her husband had a million dollars in the bank when he died, money that went straight to Madison.”
Pierce looked between Tessa and Hamilton. “You’re both so convinced Damon is a good guy.”
“I’m not.” Matt crossed his arms and glared at Tessa.
“Was a good guy,” she said, ignoring Matt. “He’s dead.”
“I’m inclined to believe a woman knows her own husband,” Pierce said. “Madison said the man in the park was her husband. I believe her.”
“You didn’t seem so sure when she first went missing,” Hamilton said.
“I’m sure now.”
“Why? What’s changed?”
“Twenty-four hours, that’s what’s changed. Something has happened to her or she would have called. She wouldn’t put me through this type of hell on purpose.” As soon as the words were out, he snapped his jaw shut. The look of pity on Tessa’s face had him wishing he’d never asked for her help.
“Why would Damon stalk her?” Tessa’s voice was soft, hesitant, as if she were afraid he was on the verge of breaking down.
“I don’t know, not yet. What I need you all to do is keep a few things in mind. First, on paper, Madison is just as innocent and as much of a model citizen as Damon appears to be. There’s no reason to assume she’s the bad guy in any of this.” He looked directly at Hamilton when he said that.
Hamilton gave him a reluctant nod. “Agreed.”
“Second, if you turn this around and assume Madison is right—that it really is Damon behind everything that’s been happening since she came to Savannah—then he has some kind of motive you haven’t discovered yet. There’s more to this than you’re seeing, than we’re seeing. Think about the inconsistencies. There aren’t any pictures of Damon. How do you know the man you researched is really Damon without having photographs?”
“I’m still working on that,” Tessa said.
“You mentioned he had health problems.” Pierce said.
“Damon had several medical problems. Nothing too serious, but one of the articles done about him in his hometown paper said he saw doctors regularly and took meds.”
“Madison never mentioned that.”
Tessa frowned. “She didn’t?”
“No. Did you find his medical records in New York?”
“Not yet. I don’t have anything worthy of a search warrant, so I may not even be able to get anyone to admit they were his doctor.”
“Can I get a copy of that folder?” Hamilton asked.
“Absolutely.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere closer to finding Madison,” Pierce said. “Are you sure you followed up all the leads at the motel? Someone had to see Madison’s car leave the parking lot. What direction did it go?”
“I’m drawing a blank there. I can’t find a single person who saw the car leave, which seems bizarre since it’s such an eye-catching color.”
“And yet, you have several witnesses who saw the car arrive, and it was caught arriving on camera—conveniently showing the license plate as well,” this from Matt.
Tessa looked up at him, her eyes half-closed as if she were only tolerating his presence because she had to. “I admit it seems like someone wanted witnesses to think Madison was at that motel.”
“Right,” Pierce interrupted. “But when the car left the motel, it left in some obscure way—perhaps down a back alley, to avoid witnesses and cameras.”
“A set-up,” Matt said.
“Seems that way to me. Madison has been with me for several days. She’s had no opportunity to be alone, to arrange some clandestine meeting with some man in a motel. And she’s not exactly the type to sneak around. If she wants to do something, she does it.”
“Now, that I’ll agree with,” Hamilton said. “I’ve seen no signs of meek and mild in Mrs. McKinley.”
Pierce raised a brow. “You’re on my side now?”
“I’ve never not been on your side. I just want the truth.”
“So what’s the next step?” Tessa asked. “We’re out of leads.”
The front door slammed and everyone glanced up.
Logan Richards stood in the entryway, his usual crisp, polished appearance only a distant memory. He needed a shave as badly as Pierce did, and his suit was rumpled, as if he’d slept in it. He saw Pierce and strode toward him.
Pierce rose to greet him, but his words died on his lips when he saw the anger flashing in Logan’s eyes.
“I asked you to check on my sister.” Logan’s deep voice boomed through the room. “And now she’s missing.” He shoved Pierce, forcing Pierce to take a step back. “What the hell are you doing to find her?”
“Now wait just a minute.” Matt tried to shove his way between them.
Logan knocked him flat on the couch without even looking at him.
“Don’t,” Pierce said to Matt, when he jumped up with his fists curled in front of him. “Logan has every right to be angry. I should have protected Madison. It’s my fault she’s missing.”
“Damn right it is,” Logan said.
Matt ignored Pierce’s warning and pushed between them again. “Arguing isn’t going to help us find her any faster.”
Pierce froze and blinked in disbelief as he stared past Logan. Logan turned and they both stood in stunned amazement to see who was standing in the open doorway.
Madison.
Chapter Eighteen
“I TOLD YOU. I’M fine. Please stop fussing over me.” Madison pulled her arm back from the EMT and rubbed where he’d just drawn blood.
Pierce sat on the couch across from her, unable to look at her. He was too afraid she’d see the doubt in his gaze. Instead, he focused on everyone else in the room while he tried to make sense of the story she’d just finished telling them about her abduction.
Her alleged abduction.
“We have to make sure you’re okay.” Logan put his arm around her shoulders.
“By poking me with needles? Gee, thanks.”
Pierce looked down as she looked across the coffee table that separated them. She’d been abducted, by someone no one else saw. And she’d supposedly awakened this morning sitting in her car a few miles away. With the keys in the ignition. She’d simply started the engine and drove home.
It was perhaps the strangest story he’d ever heard. And he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He desperately wanted to believe her. But nothing she was saying made sense. Why would someone abduct her and not hurt her, not make any demands, and not make a ransom request, then just let her go?
“You didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Logan said, matter-of-factly. “And we have to be sure you don’t have any drugs still in your system to worry about.”
The EMT c
apped the blood vial and handed it to Lieutenant Hamilton, who in turn put it into a plastic bag and handed it to a uniformed police officer.
“The cloth he used smelled sweet,” Madison said.
The EMT glanced at her. “Chloroform probably. It has a sweet smell. Do you need me for anything else, Lieutenant?”
“No, thanks for coming.”
The EMT nodded and headed toward the front door with the policeman who had the vial of blood.
“You said he shoved a note under your door.” Hamilton said.
“Yes.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It said, ‘Your punishment is about to begin.’ ”
“But you don’t have the note. Or any of the pictures you said you saw.”
Her face reddened slightly. “I wasn’t exactly in a position to grab them and take them with me since I was drugged and knocked out again.”
He didn’t respond to her sarcasm. “You’re sure you can’t describe anything about your abductor? Hair color, eye color, height?”
“I only saw him once, when he opened the trunk of the car. But it was only for a split second, before he put the cloth over my face again. The sun was behind him. I didn’t see any details. But . . .”
“Go on,” Logan encouraged. “What else?”
“My gut tells me it was Damon. Maybe that famous gut of yours runs in the family.”
Pierce heard the smile in her voice.
“Am I missing something here?” Hamilton asked. He turned to Pierce. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”
He shrugged. He knew what Madison was talking about. Logan’s gut was famous, among the men he worked with anyway. Following his instincts had solved many cases others had given up on, and had saved lives, including his wife Amanda’s.
“Why won’t you look at me, Pierce?” Madison’s voice was soft and shaky. “Why won’t you say anything?”
He lifted his gaze to hers, then quickly looked away. Logan glared at him and pulled Madison close to his side.
“Don’t worry about him,” Logan said, anger clear in his voice. “What else do you remember?”