Page 42 of Deception

He glanced at her. Madison’s cheeks were red, and the lines around her mouth were tight. As bad as the shooting was, he didn’t think it was the reason for her reaction. “Didn’t go so well in the office?”

She shrugged.

Clayton waited. Madison Thorn played her cards close to her chest and would tell him what was going on in her own good time. It quickly became evident by her silence now wasn’t that time. “Fasten your seat belt, and we’ll be on our way.”

She quickly complied, and he pulled away from the curb.

Thoughts of the shooting lay heavy on Clayton’s heart. If he were truthful, he felt some relief that it hadn’t happened in his territory where he would be sure to know some of the victims. God help those who were touched by this tragedy. Prayers were the only course of action he had.

Madison had fallen silent, probably thinking the same thoughts he was, if she had a relationship with God.

“Why do people do this? Shoot people randomly?”

He wished he had an answer other than “I don’t know.” And telling Madison they lived in a dark world was no better.

When he didn’t answer, Madison continued, “It just seems so senseless. Why doesn’t God keep things like this from happening?”

Clayton stopped for a red light and glanced at her, his heart cracking at the pain in her face. She didn’t have to tell him she was referring to her grandfather’s shooting.

“I wish I knew.” Why did God stop some evil and not others? He hesitated. “It’s taken me a while to understand, but there are some questions we won’t get answers to this side of heaven.”

She slumped in the seat. “I know. But that doesn’t help right now.”

He understood that. The light changed to green, and he gunned the Interceptor through the intersection. Neither of them spoke until they were almost to the Trace. “What did you think of the Old Jail?” he asked.

Her dark expression lifted. “I’m glad they repurposed it. I’d love to tour it.”

“Maybe I can make that happen.”

“Really?”

He grinned. “You actually don’t need my help. I think the mayor’s office can set you up with a tour.” He turned onto the Natchez Trace. “You know there’s a ghost associated with the building?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. It’s even been featured in one of those ghostbuster shows.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

He took a second to glance her way and almost laughed at her wide-eyed expression. “Of course not. I figure all the noises come from rodents and maybe bats.”

“The chief bat would be Vivian Hawkins,” Madison muttered.

“What happened back there?”

“She hates me, and I don’t have a clue why.”

“You want to talk it through?”

“Not really.” She tapped her fingers on the armrest. “Okay, I’ve been told I can be a pain sometimes, but she bristled as soon as she saw me.”

“Did she give you a reason?”

“She thinks we’re investigating her boss, Paul Davidson.”

He nodded toward boxes in the back. “Are you?”

She hesitated. Madison knew Clayton well enough now to clue him in on why she was in Natchez. “Not Davidson. He’s the one who called us about a theft ring and kickback scheme, but he wants to keep that on the Q.T. We portrayed ourselves as insurance agents. Unfortunately, she’d seen Hugh in his official capacity—”

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