Page 57 of Deception

“Want me to go with you?”

Madison shook her head. Clayton couldn’t quite hide the doubt that surfaced in his face, and doubt was the last thing she needed right now. “I’d rather you check and make sure Bri is okay. She was a basket case when I left Dani’s room.”

He hesitated.

“Please,” she said. “You can be more effective interviewing the two of them. We still have to find Dani’s shooter. And whoever just took shots at us.”

Reluctantly he nodded. “Call me when you know something.”

After promising she would, Madison hurried to her Impala. By the time she arrived at her grandfather’s house, her jaw ached from clenching it. Hugh met her at the front door. Before he could present his case, she said, “My grandfather did not shoot himself.”

The look on his face said it all. “I’m sorry, Madison.” He held her gaze. “I know you don’t want to believe that, but there’s no other explanation. Come inside and look at the evidence.”

She followed him to the study. “Have you checked out the brother of the man killed at Parchman?”

Hugh nodded. “He has a solid alibi—he was at a bar burying his sorrow. The bartender and at least two customers saw him there.”

Drinking buddies might lie for a friend; the bartender not so much, unless he was a friend as well.

Hugh stepped inside the room and palmed his hands. “We’ve looked everywhere for a second bullet—the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Nada.”

“Maybe whoever shot him took it with them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The shooter would have had to dig it out.” Hugh swept his hand around the room. “And there are no holes anywhere.”

“Maybe they came prepared—brought a block of wood and carried it off with them.” Even to her ears it sounded like she was grabbing at the wind.

“Think about it,” Hugh said. “The gun used was his own, and it contained one empty round and four .38 caliber bullets, all identicalanda match to the other fifteen bullets in the box we found in his desk.”

No law said the killer hadn’t replaced the casing with a cartridge from the desk, but if she said that to Hugh, he would tell her she was reaching. And maybe she was. “Did you check the box for fingerprints?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“Found a few smudges.” His voice sounded a little defensive. “But that’s not uncommon. It was practically a new box.”

“How about the bullets in the gun?”

He shook his head.

“Sounds like someone wore gloves when they loaded the gun.”

He sighed. “Madison, you know how seldom fingerprints are found on cartridges. The only prints we found anywhere were yours, Ms. Nadine’s, and your grandfather’s. His were the only ones found on his gun.”

Madison clenched her teeth again, and pain shot from her jaw down her neck. She forced the muscles in the side of her face to relax. Somehow, she had to make Hugh see that he was wrong. “How do you explain the gun falling on his right side? He was left-handed.”

“Madison ...” Hugh huffed a sigh. “Maybe after he fired the gun, he fumbled it and grabbed it with his right hand, then lost consciousness.”

He couldn’t just abandon this case. “I don’t understand why you keep insisting he shot himself.”

“The evidence ... or lack thereof,” he replied. “There was no sign of forced entry, the neighbors have been questioned and you are the only person seen coming or going last night, and a few of the neighbors have indicated he was very depressed about his daughter dying. Even Chief Nelson confirmed he was despondent over her death. And you’re forgetting about the suicide note.”

“I keep telling you he didn’t write that note, and once he wakes up, he’ll tell you himself.”

Hugh shifted his gaze away from her. “We’ll see,” he said just as her phone rang.

Madison glanced at the caller ID. Merit Medical. Her mouth dried. There was only one reason Merit would call her—there’d been a change in her grandfather’s condition. Her heart pounding, she punched the answer button. “Madison Thorn.”

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