The Silence That Speaks (18 page)

Casey drew a harsh breath, and dragged her hand through her hair. “Goddammit, Marc,” she said finally. “You’re putting me in a shitty situation, and you know it. If you screw up because of your feelings for Madeline...”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

There was never a doubt about Marc’s word, not to Casey. He kept it, no matter what.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she replied. “But all right. Do what you have to. Just keep me posted every step of the way.”

“I will.” Marc walked over and touched her sleeve. “Thank you for trusting me—and for not kicking my ass out of here. It would have been justified. By the way, just so you know, I’m going to follow up on every single angle we discussed.”

“I expected no less.”

“We should talk to Patrick and put extra security on Conrad, too. If Madeline’s in greater danger, then so is he.”

“Point taken. I’ll handle it.”

Marc held out his hand. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Casey shook his hand, and then leaned up to hug him. “Now that we’ve killed each other, I want you to know how happy for you I am. You and Madeline are the real deal. Hold on to it.”

“After losing it once? You bet your ass I will.”

20

IF YOU TELL
the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.

Mark Twain’s words. Casey’s favorite quote.

Marc adhered to it when he set up the appointment with Jacob Casper. And he and Claire fully intended to follow through on it during that meeting.

“How did Casper react when you said this meeting pertained to Conrad Westfield?” Claire asked as they headed from the subway to Manhattan Memorial.

“First, he was dead quiet, like I’d punched him in the gut,” Marc replied. “Then he wanted details. I told him I’d rather discuss them in person.”

“That must have freaked him out.”

“Sure did.” Marc’s smile was tight. “Anything that rocks the boat now will freak him out. He sees the brass ring just ahead. Once the merger is finalized, he’ll be the man.”

“So the question is, is he nervous about this meeting because it might put a chink in his plans to become hospital administrator of the new megahospital, or is it because he’s guilty of going after Conrad and Madeline?”

“Either way, I’m going to find out. That’s my job.” Marc shot Claire a look. “Your job is to find out if he’s doing Sharon Gilding, and if they might have joined forces to get rid of the threats.”

Claire nodded, slowing down as they neared the hospital doors. “Let’s go for it.”

* * *

Jacob Casper was in his office when they arrived.

Despite there being a perfectly good and available receptionist at her desk in the entrance of the administrative wing, Janet Moss came out to greet them. She was wearing black slacks and a red blazer, but her hair was down this time, straight and simple as it framed her face.

“Hello.” She shook their hands. “Mr. Devereaux and Ms. Hedgleigh, right?”

It was a perfunctory question, one that Janet obviously knew the answer to, but both Marc and Claire nodded.

“I realize you’re here to see Jacob, but I had to come out and meet the two of you. I’ve talked with Casey Woods, who told me so many fascinating stories about Forensic Instincts, and I’m now meeting two of her team members. It’s really exciting for me. I’ve read so much about your cases and the roles each of you have played. I’ve seen you interviewed on TV and online. You’re really impressive.”

“Thank you.” Claire answered quickly, before Marc could make some blunt statement that blew off the compliment. “We appreciate your support. We love what we do, and we’re grateful when we’re able to help our clients.”

Marc was on the verge of bringing the conversation to a close when Jacob Casper’s door opened, and he walked stiffly out to greet them. He didn’t look too happy.

“Ms. Hedgleigh, Mr. Devereaux, please come in.”

“It was so nice to meet you.” Janet smiled, stepped aside and crossed over to talk to the receptionist.

As they started following Casper, Claire murmured to Marc, “Overapplied makeup. Hair down. Check out her left cheek. Someone hit her.”

“I know,” Marc replied. “I saw.”

“File it away for later so we can talk.”

“Done.”

Casper led them into his office, which was a lot less antiseptic than the rest of the hospital and a whole lot nicer than either Marc or Claire had expected.

Across from the door, there was a walnut desk, kitty-cornered by a fully equipped computer table. Across the top of the office periphery was a semicircle of matching walnut overhead cabinets. Casper’s desk was neat as a pin with only a telephone, a family photo, some office supplies and a neatly stacked bunch of files on it. The walls were clean and sparse, as well, with a few scattered paintings and a hospital calendar hanging on them.

Across from the desk were two chairs, which Casper now gestured toward.

“Please sit.” He settled himself behind his desk, hands folded in front of him.

Defensive, Marc thought. Placing a definitive barrier between them. His stance was rigid, like a watchful German shepherd who’d heard an intruder come in.

“Can I have my receptionist bring you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?” Jacob asked.

“Thank you, no,” Claire replied. “We’re fine. And we don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what this is about? Why do you want to talk about Conrad Westfield? What is there about him that concerns you?” He cleared his throat. “And forgive me for being rude, but how do you even know him?”

Both Marc and Claire had expected just those questions. And as they’d decided, Marc took the lead.

“We don’t know him, not personally,” he said. “But his wife, Madeline, and I go back to her days in Bethesda and my days as a navy SEAL. She was an excellent nurse when I needed one. So when I ran into her in New York, we caught up. I also introduced her to the rest of the Forensic Instincts team.”

“So I understand.” Jacob nodded. “That’s why you all came with her to Ronald’s dedication ceremony.”

“That and to make a substantial donation,” Marc reminded him. “Claire and Casey were both patients at Manhattan Memorial. They had excellent care. Our company wanted to contribute a generous sum as our thanks.”

“And we appreciate that,” Jacob responded as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Madeline and I really hit it off.” Claire stepped in where she was supposed to. “We talked quite a bit. She’s terribly upset about the rumors that are circulating about her ex-husband.”

Jacob stiffened even more. “What rumors?”

“Rumors that Conrad was somehow responsible for Ronald Lexington’s death.”

Sweat broke out on Jacob’s brow. “I’ve heard no such rumors. And they’d be preposterous. Conrad is one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the world. He tried everything to save Ronald, but to no avail. It was a horrible, tragic loss. But Conrad’s skill was never in question.”

“Perhaps not to you, but others apparently felt differently—some who went so far as to blame Madeline, as well, just because she was in the ICU when Ronald died.”

“What?” That one seemed to genuinely take Jacob aback. “That’s beyond absurd. Madeline was on the code team that day. She never laid a finger on Ronald. How could she be blamed for his death?”

“I can’t answer that. But the rumors are very real and very hurtful,” Claire told him.

“And completely uncalled for.” Jacob was adamant on that score. “There are no two people I respect more than Conrad and Madeline.”

Now that might or might not be true.

“So you really meant it when you said you’d use your influence to recommend Conrad for chief of surgery once the merger is complete?” Marc asked.

“Of course.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “If he’s able and wants the position, I’ll do what I can to make sure he gets it.”

“You mean if he gets out of Crest Haven,” Marc said.

Jacob looked like he was going to fall through the floor. “Madeline told you about that?”

“She was upset,” Claire replied. “She needed someone to talk to—I’m a very good listener. The important thing is that you believe in Conrad and have faith that he’ll be up to assuming such a significant position. That will ease Madeline’s mind. She and her ex are still very good friends. They stay in touch. The fact that anyone would question his integrity really threw her.”

“Why didn’t she come to me herself?” Jacob asked.

“Because she’s proud. Because she wanted the truth, and she wasn’t sure you’d say it straight to her face. And since we happen to be an investigative firm, she thought we’d be the best intermediaries to pursue this on her behalf.”

“I see.” It didn’t take a professional to see that Jacob was really shaken up by this meeting. “I didn’t know about this gossip, but I’ll find out who’s spreading it and put an end to it. Please tell that to Madeline. And tell her I plan on speaking to her myself, to reiterate my personal commitment to Conrad.”

“We certainly will.” Claire gave a bright smile. “From what Madeline has told me, Conrad’s doctors feel he’s improving rapidly. By the time your due diligence is done, he should be able to return and lead the combined surgical staff of the new entity.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.”

Yeah, right,
Marc thought.
You sound about as happy as a kid who’s getting detention.

“Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Casper,” Claire said. “We won’t take up any more of your time. And we’ll convey your support to Madeline right away.”

“Please do,” Jacob replied. “I want this cleared up as soon as possible.”

He stared after Claire and Marc as they left his office and made a left turn toward the elevators.

The minute they disappeared, he shut the door and picked up the phone.

* * *

“You know he’s calling someone by now,” Marc commented as they exited the hospital. “The question is, who?”

“Sharon Gilding,” Claire supplied. “They’re sleeping together. She’s using him to get the chief of surgery job. And he’s an idiot who thinks she’s really into him.”

“Sounds right.”

Claire gave a shudder. “This is one of those times I wish I could wash my mind out with soap. The two of them together...yuck.”

A chuckle. “Kinky stuff?”

“Let’s drop it. I might puke.”

“Okay, then let’s take this in another direction.” As he spoke, Marc and Claire veered toward the subway station. “I’m sure you agree with me that Casper knew about the rumors.”

“Definitely.”

“And he’s not shutting down because he doesn’t want to air the hospital’s dirty laundry in front of me. From what you just told me, I’d say he’s being led around by his dick.”

“He is.” Claire nodded. “The feeling of manipulation, greed and determination to get what they want at all costs came through loud and clear. But murder? I couldn’t get a handle on that. I’m just not sure. There was darkness and there was ugliness. If I’d only picked up on pure evil, it would have been easier. But this was murkier. I’m not sure why.”

“From a behavioral standpoint, Casper was a wreck. He emanated guilt and deception. The question is, was that simply because he’s afraid Bitch Doctor will dump him if he doesn’t deliver her the job she wants? Or was it because he thought we were onto them for something a lot bigger than sex and political bullshit.” Marc frowned. “He’s a guilty man. I just don’t know how guilty. So we definitely can’t scratch him or Gilding off our list of suspects. The motive and the body tells are there.”

Claire nodded again, taking longer strides to keep up with Marc.

“Anything else in the claircognizant realm?” Marc asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Claire replied. “I got some different kind of harsh vibes from Janet Moss. That bruise of hers—I kept getting flashes of a major altercation and a severe threat. Whoever smacked her was female and in quite the rage. Plus, I kept getting a sense of Casey—as if she was right between them. Not physically but spiritually. Her presence was strong.”

“You think they fought about her?”

“Yes, I do. I wish I knew why.”

Marc was quiet for a moment. “That bruise wasn’t fresh. It could have happened a few days ago.”

Claire understood where he was going with this. “Such as right after Casey had lunch with Janet.”

“Yup. Maybe that lunch pissed someone off—someone who didn’t want Casey plying these hallowed halls, where she might learn something they would prefer remained hidden.”

Claire and Marc slowed down as they reached the subway stop and hurried down the steps to catch the next train.

“Janet has no intention of staying away from Casey,” Claire stated, keeping her voice as low as she could for Marc to hear her over the throngs of people moving with them. “She’s scheduling a dinner with Casey. Plus, she was superfriendly to us, too. Clearly whoever struck her didn’t scare her off.”

“That doesn’t mean she shouldn’t have. Janet could be grossly underestimating her enemy.”

Something about Marc’s words gave Claire a dark feeling. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

21

THE FI TEAM
was, yet again, gathered around the conference table, reviewing all the updated information that Marc and Claire’s outing had yielded. Patrick had rejoined them, after arranging for both John and Dave to safeguard Madeline and doubling up security for Conrad at Crest Haven.

Ryan was conspicuously absent.

“What’s the deal with Ryan?” Marc asked. “I heard him cursing all the way from the basement. What’s he up to?”

“Playing with his toys,” Claire supplied.

No one even blinked. They all knew that when Ryan was überfrustrated or pissed, he went to the robot section of his lair and tried out some of his new techno creations.

Patrick scowled. “Does that mean he’s having trouble cracking the encrypted files?”

“Yup,” Claire replied. “And I wouldn’t go down there if you paid me.”

“Well, I want an update, good or bad,” Casey said. “So I’m not going down there, but he’s coming up here. Yoda,” she called out. “Please tell Ryan I want him to report to the conference room now with whatever data he has.”

“Immediately, Casey,” Yoda replied.

“This should be fun,” Emma commented, not looking particularly worried. To the contrary, she looked like the cat who swallowed the canary since Casey had invited her to sit in on this meeting—her very first meeting in the “Oval Office,” as she called it. Hell, it had been worth her morning candy striping shift to do this.

“Yeah, take cover,” Marc said drily.

A few minutes later, Ryan strode into the room, a pile of printouts in his hand, and shut the door. He walked over to the table, plopped his paperwork down and dropped into a chair.

“I’m here,” he announced, looking and sounding like a petulant child.

“Are we going to throw a temper tantrum?” Casey inquired. “Because if we are, don’t break anything.”

Ryan shot her a look. “I’m frustrated as hell. See all this crap?” He pointed at the papers strewn across the table in front of him. “It’s all my attempts to crack Lexington’s encryption key. And I came up empty. Here’s the list of file names and the key phrases I tried—every fucking password I could think of. His birthday. His kids’ names. His wife’s name. His anniversary...”

Casey sat up straighter. “What list?”

Ryan shoved a sheet of paper toward her. “File names, none of which I can get into. Each one of them is a number, and they’re not sequential. Some have two digits, some have three or four, and there’s no pattern.”

Casey glanced at the page. “We have no way of knowing why Ronald chose those numbers or what they connect to.” She frowned. “What we do know is that whatever this list represents, it’s pretty important. Otherwise, he wouldn’t go to such great lengths to protect its contents.”

“Which doesn’t do a damned thing for us unless I can hack into those files,” Ryan replied. “I’ve been on this since Emma and I did our thing and I brought home the USB drive. I’m hitting one brick wall after another. And I
don’t
hit brick walls. It’s just not who I am.”

Emma lowered her head to stifle a smile.

“You need help,” Casey stated factually. “From a person who specializes in cracking encrypted data.”

“Yeah, and who would that be?”

Casey’s gaze flickered to Marc.

He nodded. “I’ll call Aidan.”

“Who the hell is Aidan?” Patrick asked.

“My brother.”

Claire’s head came up. “You have a brother?”

A corner of Marc’s mouth lifted. “I’m not an alien, Claire. I have a life and a family outside of Forensic Instincts.”

“Yeah, but you never mentioned him,” Patrick said, and then waved away his own comment. “Forget I said that. Need to know. Special Ops. I get it.”

Claire was eyeing Ryan, who clearly liked this idea enough to calm him down. Actually, he was more than calm; he was nodding his approval. “Why don’t you look surprised?” she asked.

“You know why.” Casey interlaced her fingers on the table. “Because Ryan hacked everyone’s file and read up on all of you.”

“Yup.” Ryan grinned. “Like Yoda, I’m omniscient.” He turned to Marc. “Do you think Aidan would do it?”

“If I ask him like a respectful younger brother, then yeah, I think he’d do it. That is if he’s in New York and not traveling God knows where.”

Claire looked quizzical, although Marc’s comment made her smile. “Can I ask for details about this mysterious brother of yours, now that he’s been revealed?”

“Sure.” Marc gave an offhand shrug. “Aidan’s three years older than I am. We went to the Naval Academy at Annapolis at the same time—he was a senior when I was a freshman. Not a lot of fun for me. He went on to the marines and became a hybrid intelligence officer and communications officer. In English, that means he thinks like an intel officer and acts like a communications officer. Among his achievements, he breezed right through an intensive Cryptological Divisions Officers Course.”

“That’s how he can help us,” Claire murmured.

“Uh-huh.” Marc went on. “I can’t tell you much more because everything he did in the military was classified, so I’m in the dark as much as you are. But once he moved on to civilian life, he went to work as a troubleshooter for Heckman Flax. He’s been there since.”

“You said New York—do you mean he works right here in the city?” Patrick, along with Claire and Emma, looked startled.

“Yup.”

“Jesus, Marc, Heckman Flax isn’t just an investment bank. It’s like a hub for the financial geniuses of the world.”

“True. And Aidan is responsible for all their trading platforms worldwide. He travels everywhere at a moment’s notice to put out fires. And there you have the story of my brother. Happy?”

“Is he hot?” Emma asked.

Marc rolled his eyes. “He’s old enough to be your father.”

“If he got someone pregnant when he was in his teens, I guess that’s true,” Emma acknowledged. “But ick, I wasn’t thinking of him
that
way. I just wanted to know if he had your cool French-Asian looks.” She paused. “Although you really don’t have too much of the Asian on your mother’s side, except the slight slant of your eyes. Mostly there’s steamy European blood.”

Marc was having trouble not laughing at Emma’s physical analysis. “Since you’re so into genetics and physical characteristics, I’ll let you meet Aidan and judge for yourself. How’s that?”

“Cool.”

Marc took out his cell phone and made the call.

“Hey,” he greeted his brother. “Are you in New York?” A pause. “Good. My team’s in a bind here. We need your expertise....Yeah, some files that have to be decrypted....Yesterday, if possible.” Another pause. “Yeah, yeah, I know—marines rule. How fast can you get here?...That’s no problem—just bring her. She’ll have plenty of people to entertain her....Great. Thanks. See you.”

He hung up. “Aidan will be here in about an hour.”

“Who’s
she?
” Claire asked. “Who is it that we’ll be entertaining?”

“Abby. Aidan’s daughter. The nanny’s sick so he’s on babysitting duty, and that’s harder than all our jobs combined. Abby is three and she’s a real operator. I’m afraid she’s going to grow up to be Emma.”

“Hey,” Emma protested. “That’s a good thing.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s a moot point, anyway.” Casey had started to laugh. “With a military father and uncle? No way.”

“How about Mrs. Aidan?” Emma asked.

“There is none. Never was,” Marc answered. “Aidan was pretty heavily involved with someone in France. They reconnected in the U.S., and then eventually broke it off. She died in a car crash. He never even knew she was pregnant until social services showed up on his doorstep with Abby in their arms.”

“Poor baby,” Claire murmured.

“You won’t think so after she’s trashed your yoga room.” Marc’s words of warning were belied by the tender note in his voice. “She’s a pistol but she’s a heartbreaker. She has my tough brother wrapped around her tiny little finger.”

“It sounds like she’s got her navy SEAL uncle wrapped that way, too,” Claire said.

“Guilty as charged. I’m crazy about the little brat.”

“This should be fun,” Emma said brightly.

“It’s not about fun, Emma. It’s about work.” Casey brought her receptionist back to earth. “Aidan is coming here to help Ryan. But since you’re so psyched about this, you can be the chief babysitter. How’s that?”

“Sure. Aidan can play with Ryan. I’m sure I can teach Abby a trick or two about torturing the Devereaux men.”