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Forty-Three

Madison watched King pull out of the diner’s parking lot and took out her phone to call a cab, but it rang before she could get there. Caller ID told her it was Troy. He could be at their house. She answered, prepared to defend herself.

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

Guess he wasn’t home. “Ah, good.” She winced as a baby in the diner let out a loud wail, and she went outside. “Did you talk to Murphy?”

“Where are you?”

She opened her mouth, snapped it shut. There’d be no point in trying to convince him she was home. “Just stepped out.”

“The doctor said—”

“I know what he said. That I can walk and talk, and I have a job to do.”

“Is Terry there with you? Put him on the phone.”

“Excuse me.” She bristled at the implication that Terry had somehow become her caretaker in Troy’s absence.

“I shouldn’t have— Never mind.”

“Murphy?” she prompted.

“He says he was home all night, Maddy.” There was a solemnness to his voice that she didn’t at all care for.

“Anyone able to verify that?”

“What am I supposed to do? Interrogate the guy? He’s a fellow cop, Maddy. Why would he have hit you anyway?” He paused there, and the silence that filled the line told her he had his suspicions. How or why, she didn’t yet know.

“I know what I saw, Troy,” she said. “And you can’t just close your mind to Murphy. He almost killed me and our baby.” She was instantly struck with remorse for using their child as leverage. “He didn’t, but…” she started to backpedal.

“Maddy.” Troy sighed. “Murphy doesn’t have a pickup truck. The partial you gave me ties back to Joel Phelps, Officer Phelps’s brother. You and I need to talk, but I don’t want to continue this conversation over the phone.” His tone went dark and ominous. She was a fool to think she could keep her rogue mission from him forever. He was too smart. “You heard me, right? We need to—”

There was a beeping in her ear. “I’ve got another call coming in.”

“Ignore it, Maddy, and meet me at home.”

She looked at caller ID, and it was Terry. “I need to get this.”

Troy hung up without saying another word.

I’m sorry, she said to him in her head and answered Terry’s call.

“Just wanted to give you an update and check in, but I’m at your house and you’re not. Where are you?”

“What’s the update?” She appreciated that the men in her life cared about her welfare, but she was thirty-six-years old and more than capable of taking care of herself.

“Cynthia has the video from the city. I thought you might be up for watching it, but if you’re not—”

“I’m good. Come get me?” She gave him the diner’s name and address.

“Why are you there?”

“None of your business.”

He remained silent. He’d been so kind with her, and the quiet infused her with guilt.

“I was hungry,” she tossed out.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be there in five.”

She bundled her jacket tighter to herself. Before now, she’d been too preoccupied to notice the cold breeze, but just standing there, it nipped at her bones. She shivered as she called Troy, intending to smooth things over. She landed in voicemail after only three rings. That meant one thing: he’d put her there.