Page 132 of Maddy's Justice

“So, she had plenty of time to get home or go somewhere. She obviously knows this was not an accident. She’s hiding. She doesn’t know who did it or why, but she’s hiding. Who would she go to? Friends, relatives? She doesn’t trust you two.”

“We need to get back and deal with this at the firm,” Cliff said.

“Yes, you do. But, I’ll take care of this. You two do nothing. No wait,” he said looking at Stafford. “You find this Sly Weston and find out who he farmed this to. I want him or them by tonight. I will deal with them. You just find out who.”

The next morning, a habitual criminal, street punk named Johnny Weldon was found by a junkie friend. Johnny had a multiple drug problem and had apparently died from a heroin overdose with the needle still in his arm. No one who knew Johnny was surprised, especially the St. Paul cops who went to the scene. And the St. Paul cops were in no hurry to investigate an accidental overdose.

By a slightly strange coincidence, an elderly crook by the name of Sylvester ‘Sly’ Westin was also found dead that same day. His death would be ruled a heart attack and again, no one seemed to care.

FORTY-THREE

Without Maddy being in Minneapolis, Marc had overslept for the third straight day. This morning he did not even remember shutting off the alarm clock. Climbing the back stairs to the office, he was dreading the grief he was going to get for being late again.

He entered the suite of offices to find everyone, including Barry Cline and Chris Grafton in the work area. All of them stopped what they were doing and just stared at him.

“What?” he tried to innocently say while checking the zipper on his pants.

“Still missing Maddy?” Carolyn asked.

“Actually,” Marc said. “I feel great. I haven’t gotten this much sleep since… I shouldn’t have said that,” he quickly realized.

“Poor baby,” Carolyn said. “Is she keeping you up at night?”

“In more ways than one,” Connie said.

“This is sexual harassment,” Marc said looking at Barry.

“Don’t look to me for help. Anytime you want to trade places, just let me know,” Barry replied.

“Marc,” he heard Sandy say. She was holding the phone in her hand and said, “It’s Melanie Stewart. She sounds upset and wants to talk to you and Connie.”

Sandy put the phone back to her ear and said, “What? Yes, I have it.”

Sandy listened for a moment then wrote something down on a message pad. “Okay,” is all she said then hung up.

By now, Marc and Connie were both at Sandy’s desk. The note read.

Don’t say a word. Call me at 763 428 1800

on your cell from outside the office.

Marc and Connie both looked at Sandy who said, “That’s it.”

They then looked at each other, shrugged and left. When they got outside and into the back parking lot, Marc dialed the number. Melanie answered it on the first ring.

“Marc?”

“Yes, Melanie what’s going on? Why are we…”

“I think your office might be bugged. Am I on speaker so Connie can hear me?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Connie said.

“Good. You may think I’m crazy, but someone tried to kill me last night.”

“What?” both Marc and Connie almost yelled simultaneously.

“Somebody tried to kill me. A man ran me off the road a couple miles from my home. I went down a steep hill into some woods. The airbag and seatbelt saved my life.”

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