Page 18 of Deception

She had been with the family for as long as Madison could remember, living in a small apartment beside the garage. Though small in stature and just past her eightieth birthday, Nadine Broussard ran the judge’s house like a precision watch. She was probably the only person in the world who could boss her grandfather around.

“I apologize again for being late, but I’m sure it will be fine. And don’t hang around waiting for us to finish. I’ll bring the dishes to the kitchen,” her grandfather said and helped himself to a cup of coffee and a serving of dessert. “Coffee, Madison?”

“Not if I want to sleep tonight.” It wasn’t the chicory in Nadine’s coffee that would keep her awake, it was the naturally caffeine-rich Kenyan beans she used. Besides, Madison had tried chicory once and hadn’t liked the bitter taste.

Once Nadine left them, he stirred cream into his coffee. “So, when are you going to get married and give me great-grandchildren?”

She stared at him. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “What?”

“You heard me. All you ever do is work. I think it’s high time you got interested in someone and settled down, preferably here in Natchez.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t found anyone as interesting as my job.” The one time she had, it’d turned into a disaster. Been there, done that, she wasn’t trying it again.

“Just consider it.” Her grandfather took a bite of the pudding. “Nadine was wrong,” he said. “This is not dry.”

Neither of them spoke as they enjoyed the sweet treat, then her grandfather set his half-eaten dessert on the table. “Speaking of your job, what brings you to Natchez?”

“A case involving theft and kickbacks.” She was glad to be off the subject of her matrimonial prospects, or rather her lack thereof. Not that she would be sharing any details of the case. “How about you? What happened today that made you late?” She took another bite of the bread pudding.

He studied her a minute. “You’re getting good at evading questions.”

“Comes with the territory.” She waited expectantly.

He picked up his coffee and sipped it before answering. “A man I sentenced to Parchman was killed there yesterday. BlakeCorbett,” he said softly. “Always claimed he was innocent, even took a chance on a longer prison sentence rather than plead guilty.”

“I’m sorry.”

He continued like she hadn’t spoken. “The US Marshals notified me that he’d recently made more threats against me. His brother has, as well. I was late because I went over the transcript of his trial to make sure I’d made no errors.”

Madison could never be a judge, often deciding a person’s innocence or guilt and then their fate. “What was your conclusion?”

“The jury believed the prosecution’s case was stronger than the defense lawyer’s and found him guilty. With mandatory sentencing for his crime, I had no choice. According to the US Marshals, his brother, Aaron, doesn’t see it that way. I, as well as the members of the jury, have been notified of his death and advised to take precautions. A US Marshal followed me home and will arrive early tomorrow morning to accompany me to court.”

Madison frowned. “Shouldn’t there be someone here tonight?”

He shook his head. “This place is like a fortress, and I have my .38. I’ll be fine.”

He was right about the house. Steel burglar bars adorned each downstairs window, and he had a state-of-the-art security system. The cup and saucer rattled as he set it down. He wasn’t as calm as he’d like her to think.

“Do you get these often? Death threats?”

“Often enough,” he said. “Let’s talk about you. How long will this case keep you here?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’ll stay here, of course.”

“That’s my plan. Tomorrow I’ll pick up additional records and bring them back here to work on.”

“You indicated you were working with the FBI on this. Did you say which agent?”

She’d forgotten she’d mentioned that during dinner. “I don’t think I did. I’ll be working with Hugh Cortland.”

“Good man.” He rubbed his chin. “I saw someone today you probably knew as a little girl—friend of your cousins. Clayton Bradshaw.”

Strange coincidence. “I remember him all right. He was Buddy and Joe’s friend and always hanging around when I came to visit in the summers.” She turned to him with a smile that was more like a grimace. “He gave me a warning ticket for speeding on the Trace.”

“Were you?”

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