Page 19 of Deception

Her shoulders dropped. “I’m afraid so.”

“Then count yourself blessed that he only issued you a warning. So, you recognized him?”

“No. His name was on his shirt. And before you ask, he didn’t recognize me, either.”

Her grandfather fell quiet, and she tried to think of something to fill the void. But she didn’t get the chance.

“How have you been dealing with”—his jaw tightened, and sadness settled in his face—“your mother’s unfortunate...”

Madison understood that he couldn’t bring himself to say the wordoverdose. She had trouble with it herself. “I’m coping.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “In spite of all her problems, I’m having trouble believing she deliberately ended her life.”

12

Grandfather, the blood tests don’t lie.” How Madison wished they did. It pained her to know her mother was so unhappy she saw no way out other than death. If only Madison had paid closer attention, she could have prevented the overdose from happening.

But what haunted her the most was she hadn’t been enough for her mother to want to live. Just like she hadn’t been enough for her birth mother to keep her.

She pulled herself away from the dark thoughts and turned to her grandfather, immediately catching her breath. He’d picked up the porcelain cup again and gripped it so tightly in his left hand, his fingers had turned white. “Grandfather, if you don’t let go of that cup, you’re going to shatter it.”

He stared down at the cup.

“Are you all right?”

“If she killed herself, Gregory drove her to it,” he said. “Or he could have put something in her wine. She’d lost her sense of taste and wouldn’t have noticed it.”

His eyes ... the look on his face ... Her stomach squeezed in a knot. “Surely you don’t mean that. Dad was taking her on a cruise.”

For five long seconds, he said nothing, then shook his headas though coming out of a trance. “He’d never taken off work before.” He held her gaze. “Why then?” Then he laughed, but there was nothing happy about it. “But he ended up not having to take off, didn’t he?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. Her father was a type-A workaholic. He’d never had time for vacations before, other than driving Madison and her mother to Natchez every summer. He always returned to Memphis the next day, not coming back until the end of their month stay to take them home.

Until she turned twelve. That’s when her father had bought the horse, and she started riding lessons and competitions that were mostly in the summer. Looking back, it was easy to see it’d been so he could keep her away from her grandfather. It hadn’t worked quite the way he’d planned, though.

She’d been surprised about the upcoming cruise that had brought her mother out of her depression, and Madison never questioned him about it. They’d both seemed excited. It was one reason the overdose had shocked her like it had.

He raised his eyebrows. “If there really was a cruise, why weren’t you going? Were you even invited?”

“I was, but I had to work.” She stared at the last bite of bread pudding in her bowl. Their conversation had taken her appetite, but Nadine would be disappointed if any was left. Madison managed to get it down and set the bowl on the tray before she turned to her grandfather.

Weariness etched the lines of his face. He took a breath and released it slowly. “You’ve been mostly happy, haven’t you? I mean, with your parents, growing up in Memphis...”

This was the strangest conversation she’d ever had with her grandfather. “You mean about being adopted?”

Her parents had told her even before she was old enough to understand that she was adopted—chosen, they said.

He frowned. “Not exactly. Are you happy in general?”

Was she? Growing up with a bipolar mother and a workaholicfather who barely gave her the time of day had been difficult. But, like someone once said, what doesn’t break you makes you stronger. After she was grown, Madison realized her childhood had taught her critical-thinking skills and probably led to her career in law enforcement. But was she happy?

“In general, yes.” Where was he going with this? “Why do you ask?”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out. Hugh Cortland? And he’d called several times before this call. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to take this.”

She didn’t miss the look of relief on her grandfather’s face. Madison stood and strode out of the room. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two hours.”

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