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Forty-Two

Madison went to the lab to touch base with Cynthia. She must have had some updates, given she was speaking with Terry earlier.

She entered the lab and found Cynthia at her desk, Terry standing next to her. Both of them turned from what they’d been looking at on the monitor.

“How did that go?” Terry winced.

“I heard you were called to the principal’s office,” Cynthia teased.

“Oh, you know, formal reprimand in the file and a lecture: standard Winston issue.”

Terry laughed, and Madison giggled, and then she got into a coughing fit.

Terry pulled a lozenge out of his pocket and handed it to Madison. She took it from him gratefully. Why he had them, she didn’t ask.

Madison sucked the candy, calling on it to work its magic. “Okay, where were we?”

“You were going to call it a day, go home, get some rest, heal up,” Cynthia said.

“I wish.” That was the truth.

“I can’t have you not showing up on Saturday. Everything’s already going to be a disaster.”

“I’ll be there unless I’m dead.” Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of Tammy, whom Madison just might have to drag back, kicking and screaming. She nudged her head toward the monitor. “What are you two looking at?”

“First, you bring us up to speed,” Cynthia started. “That jackass actually brought Jim in? He’s charging him with vehicular manslaughter?”

“He’s going to try. We need to find out if they have traffic cams at that intersection.” She hadn’t seen any when she’d looked, but technology was making gadgets smaller and smaller.

Cynthia shook her head. “Sorry. I called the city, and no luck. What are you going to do?”

Madison was touched that Cynthia had taken the initiative to check.

“I don’t know yet. I have Chelsea asking Blake for a favor. Hopefully, there’s still some good left in the man.” Madison was banking heavily on it.

Cynthia and Terry were watching her as if they felt sorry for her, but she wasn’t going to have any of that.

“All I know is I’m not letting Jim go to jail for this,” she said. What Cynthia and Terry didn’t realize was this referred to far more than the accident and took in whatever vendetta existed between her and Phelps. “Earlier, you were talking with Terry at his desk. You had a file. Now you are huddled down here. Do you have findings from the case?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let me have them.”

“Sam finished up comparing the ballistics from Adach’s gun to the bullets pulled from Lorene and Lynch. They weren’t a conclusive match.”

Madison held out an open palm to Terry, ready to collect on the bet of Adach’s innocence in the murder of Lorene Malone and Saul Lynch.

“Nope.” Terry stepped back, held his hands up in surrender. “This isn’t over yet.”

“It is from my point of view.” She arched her brows.

“Until someone other than Adach is charged with the murders of Malone and Lynch, my money stays right where it is.” Terry patted his pants pocket.

Terry using the word murders made Madison think of the Boyds. They’d been shot, too. She looked at Cynthia. “Were the ballistics from the gun in Adach’s possession run through the system?”

“Of course,” Cynthia spat. “But there was no hit.”

“So, it wasn’t used in any previous crimes?”

“That’s usually what it means,” Terry said sarcastically.

Madison narrowed her eyes at him. “What else?”

“Do I have for you?” Cynthia surmised.

Madison faced her friend. “Yes, you. I know you probably have more.”

Slowly, Cynthia smiled. “Well, you’d be right. I have big news and huge news. Now, the big news won’t bode well for you, Terry, and your conviction that Adach’s guilty, but Mark found a third set of prints on the wheel of Lynch’s Mercedes.”

“A third set?” Madison asked, feeling that she’d missed something.

“Oh, I was telling Terry that two others were lifted,” Cynthia started. “One matches up to Lynch, one to Adach—”

“Ah, so, Adach just might simply be a car thief, after all,” Madison chided Terry, despite knowing that it had never been in dispute.

“Ha ha,” Terry said.

Madison turned to Cynthia. “Who does the third print tie back to?”

“Your killer?” Cynthia jested. “I don’t know, but it might.”

“Huh,” Madison said. “What’s the huge news?”

“The epithelial taken from under Lorene Malone’s fingernails was a familial match to her. Maybe from one of her children? You were suspicious of Kimberly and Craig.”

“Lorene’s brother,” Madison said, looking at Terry. “She found him.”

“Lorene’s what? Obviously, I’ve been cut out of the loop.” Cynthia drew a finger between the two of them. “Spill.”

“We found out that Lorene Malone was adopted, and she had a brother,” Terry explained.

“Lynch was investigating Lorene’s biological parents,” Madison elaborated. “At least that’s what we gather, based on what little we can interpret from Lynch’s files.”

“The Boyds,” Terry jumped in, “and they were murdered by gunshot as well.”

“That’s why I asked if the gun in Adach’s possession had ever shown up in the system before,” Madison explained.

“Damn.” Cynthia’s eyes widened. “I figured that I was bringing you case-breaking news that would point you to one of the Malone children.”

“You’ve narrowed things down,” Madison assured her.

“I really think you should bring this brother in. He could be the killer.” Cynthia had found her spark and was all animated again.

“He could be a killer four times over,” Madison stated somberly.

Terry looked at her. “Let’s not leap there just yet. Besides we’re just assuming he didn’t want to be found.”

“He’s not making it easy, but I hadn’t gotten far in the search before everything unraveled with Jim.”

“It could be something as simple as him changing his name again,” Terry reasoned. “But one would think it should still be easy enough to find him anyhow, if that’s the case.”

“When were the Boyds murdered?” Cynthia interjected.

“Twenty years ago,” Madison replied.

“Obviously the case was never solved,” Cynthia said.

Madison nodded. “That is correct.”

“Whoa. You catch this guy and you could close four murder cases.”

“Wouldn’t that be good news,” Madison exclaimed. “And I’m going to make sure no defense attorney will be able to spin the evidence we present.”

“Always best to do your homework.” Cynthia winked at Madison.

Madison turned to Terry. “How did you make out with the lead investigator on the Boyd case?”

“He’s getting the files sent over,” Terry said, taking a few steps toward the door. “I’m going to get started on finding Michael Boyd, a.k.a. Leo Griffin, a.k.a. who knows?”

Madison went to follow him, but Cynthia stopped her. Terry kept going.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Cynthia said.

“With regards to?”

“Last night, and the burner phone.”

The way her friend was watching her now, Madison was tempted to confess that she had Leland King investigating Phelps, but that wouldn’t help anyone. “It’s fine, Cyn.”

“No, it’s not.” Cynthia put a hand on a hip. “Last night I let it go, but with what’s happening with Jim, I just have a bad feeling. Does whatever you’re involved in have anything to do with Phelps?”

Madison stared at Cynthia as if she were a mind reader.

“There’s something going on there,” Cynthia continued. “No witness against your brother-in-law, and now, all of a sudden, there is. He shouldn’t even have been brought down to the station yesterday. Phelps is crooked, isn’t he?”

Madison wouldn’t be able to hide her thoughts if she wanted to under this scrutiny. “I believe so.”

“And you’re going after him somehow.”

Madison glanced away.

“Madison, if this guy is crooked like you think, I’d watch your back.”

“Trust me, I am.”

“Did Phelps concoct this witness against Jim to somehow get at you? If so, that means he knows you’re looking into him. Why are you doing this?”

Madison stumbled backward. Of anyone, Madison would expect Cynthia to understand. “He doesn’t deserve the badge.”

“It’s your job to clean up the Stiles PD now?”

Madison could read the concern in Cynthia’s eyes, but her friend had to know she couldn’t just turn her back on crooked cops. “I’ve got to go.”

“Sure,” Cynthia grumbled.

“Don’t be mad at me over this,” Madison said. “You know the type of person I am.”

“I know that you’ve almost gotten yourself killed—more than once, by the way—for doing the right thing.” The latter part came out bitter and in finger quotes.

“I’m taking precautions, as I told you last night.”

The door to the lab swung open, and Troy rushed in. “I’ve got the ID on the eyewitness. Name’s Lonnie Dunn, thirty-five, single, no record.”

Madison glanced at Cynthia, back to Troy. “That was fast.”

“That’s how I roll.”

Troy hadn’t said it again, but the word family went through Madison’s mind.

Madison reached out for Troy’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Cynthia brought up Dunn’s DMV photo on one of the monitors on her desk. He had shoulder-length brown hair and eyes that didn’t speak of a high intelligence.

“I’ve got to go talk with him.” Madison barreled toward the door.

Troy grabbed her arm on a backswing. “What will that accomplish?”

Madison flicked her gaze to Cynthia, and Troy caught it.

“What is it?” he asked Madison.

She’d preached to him the last couple of days about how they should communicate openly with one another. Maybe it was time to open up to him, but all she could squeak out was, “Phelps.”

“What about him?”

“Jim’s innocent,” Madison said, deflecting. “I’m going to prove it.”

“And how are you going to prove it?” Troy asked calmly.

Cynthia mouthed, Tell him.

Madison took a steadying breath. “I think that this eyewitness is a fake.”

Troy’s face contorted into sharp lines. “Why would Phelps do something like that?”

“He has a problem with me, and he’s taking it out on Jim.”

“Why would he have a problem with you?”

Man, Troy has a hundred and one questions.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” Madison started. “You understand that?”

“Sure.” Troy glanced at Cynthia, who directed him to look back at Madison.

“He’s corrupt, Troy. I feel it.” Madison put a hand to her chest.

A few seconds of silence passed.

“That doesn’t explain why he has a problem with you.”

“I think he worked with the Mafia. Now they’re gone…” Or assuming they are…

“So is his payday,” Troy finished. “You think he holds you responsible for their leaving town?”

Madison nodded, though she still wondered if Leland’s investigation had gotten back to Phelps somehow.

“Madison,” he prompted.

“Yeah, that’s part of it.”

“And the other part?”

“A conversation for another day?” She was hoping for a pass, but his green eyes turned to ice.

“Huh. I see what’s going on here. You want me to open up to you, but you’re allowed to keep secrets.”

“Um, I’m just going to go grab a coffee.” Cynthia brushed past them, her gaze on Madison as she did so.

Troy watched after Cynthia. “You told her what’s going on, didn’t you? But you’re not telling me?”

“I didn’t mean to tell her,” Madison pleaded. “It just came out.”

“So, let it come out to me. God, Maddy.” Troy raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t want secrets between us, so get talking.”

“As I said, I’m pretty sure that Phelps was working with the mob. Still might be.”

He stared at her impatiently, waiting for her to reveal something new.

“I am having him looked into, to gather proof to use against him.”

“Like what? A PI? IA?”

“No, not IA. Not yet anyway. I have someone helping me to build a case against him, though.”

Troy’s body went rigid.

“I didn’t want to tell you any of this in case it endangered you in some way.”

“I can take care of myself,” he snapped.

“I know you can. I’m sorry.”

“You think Phelps found out and has found someone willing to help him stick it to Jim, to stick it to you?”

“I do.”

“My God, Madison.”

He wasn’t saying it, but Madison sensed he wished she’d just leave it alone.

“Phelps is sending me the message he’s not to be messed with,” she said, breaking the silence.

“The guy’s not too smart if that’s the case.”

“So he’s cocky,” Madison tossed out.

“No, he’s stupid. When we expose his eyewitness, he’s going to have to defend himself, and he won’t be able to.”

“We? Oh, no. I don’t want you involved with any of this.” She was shaking her head.

“It’s too late for that,” he said in such a way that left no room for negotiation.

“I mean it, Troy. I don’t want you involved.”

“Phelps is going after your family…well, he’s also going after mine. If we have to, we’ll get Andrea involved.”

This was spiraling out of control too quickly for her liking.

“We could talk to her first,” he added.

“No,” Madison said firmly. “I’m talking to Dunn.”

“And what?”

“I’m going to get him to confess that Phelps is paying him off to lie—or whatever it was Phelps used to coerce him into lying.” She was grasping, but she was being run by her gut right now.

“Well, if you’re going to talk to Dunn, I’m coming with you.”

She put a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to.” He led the way out of the lab.