“Your ex is a rich man with lots of connections and pull. He’s in a health care facility, not a prison. He could have hired someone to do his dirty work.” Casey propped her elbow on her knee and leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand. “You said your divorce was amicable, but it was still a divorce. Were you seeing someone else? Was there a dispute over money? Did you get anything in the settlement that Conrad badly wanted to keep?”
Casey stopped her litany of questions to ask the most important one. “Was Conrad unstable enough to let any one of those things push him over the edge?”
“And hire a hit man to kill me?” Madeline’s tone was filled with disbelief. “Absolutely not. He’s severely depressed and in a very dark place. But his anger is all aimed inward. Our conversations have been few, but they’ve all been civil, even friendly. And no, I wasn’t and am not seeing anyone else. Nor did I demand anything in the divorce. Conrad was more than generous. I really think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Casey intentionally kept her posture relaxed. She was easing the conversation in a strategic direction that could possibly put Madeline on the defensive—especially since she’d just written her ex-husband off as a suspect. “Would you object if I were to drive up and have a talk with Conrad?”
Madeline’s eyes widened, more in surprise than in defensiveness.
“Just being thorough,” Casey added lightly.
After considering that for a moment, Madeline shrugged. “I guess not,” she said. “The truth is, Conrad and I may be divorced, but I still care about him. I have no idea what his current state of mind is, and I don’t want to cause a setback. So let’s talk to his doctor first and get her opinion. Her name is Dr. Marie Oberlin. I’ll call her before you leave. If she gives us her okay, I’ll text you all her contact info, and you can make the trip up to Danbury.”
“That would be great.”
Madeline’s eyes narrowed quizzically. “I wasn’t expecting you to take such an aggressive stance when it came to Conrad. You weren’t that way yesterday. What changed? Did you dig up something I should know about?”
“No.” Casey was blunt. “What changed is that you and I are now alone and Marc isn’t in the room.”
A flush stained Madeline’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. “How much did Marc tell you?” she asked.
“Marc doesn’t share. Not his personal life. But I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Is there anything you’d like to share?”
Madeline’s hesitation was brief. “I guess I came to Forensic Instincts because of and in spite of Marc. Your company’s reputation is stellar. I also know how extraordinary Marc is at everything he does. Failure’s not in his vocabulary. But I didn’t expect to react so powerfully to seeing him again. It’s been ten years. Maybe I made a mistake coming to you.”
“You didn’t. We just need to work this through.” Casey wasn’t surprised by anything Madeline had just said. “Here’s what I know. You two met in Bethesda during Marc’s navy SEAL days. I gather you had a relationship—a pretty intense one, judging from both your reactions. I won’t pry. But you have to take the lead with me on this one. How much do you want Marc to be included in or excluded from? How hard will it be to separate business from personal? I’ll handle this any way you want me to. And it can be handled. But you have to tell me what you want—Marc’s expertise or his absence. Either can be arranged.”
There was a long silence—one that Casey had anticipated. She just sat quietly, watching Madeline pick at a fingernail and waiting for her response.
“I trust Marc with my life,” she said at last. “I’d be an idiot to exclude him. We’re both adults. We’ll have to get past our residual feelings—that is, unless Marc’s indicated otherwise.”
“To the contrary, Marc is his usual proactive self, ready to take on and solve the case. But you’re our client. You have to be at ease.”
“What I have t
o be is alive,” Madeline responded. “So yes, please include Marc in your investigation.”
“Fine.” Casey nodded. “Next question. I’d like to take Marc with me when I visit Conrad. I rely on his intuition and his strategies. Does Conrad know about Marc?”
“He knows I was involved with someone in Bethesda years ago. He’s not privy to the details. And I didn’t exactly leave photos lying around. So he wouldn’t recognize Marc or his name.”
“Good.” Again, Casey nodded. “So you’ll call Dr. Oberlin before I leave. If all goes as planned, Marc and I will visit Crest Haven Residential Treatment Center. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Let’s move on, then. I’ll need a list of all your friends, supposed friends and associates, both inside and outside the hospital—everything from Ronald Lexington’s wife, to his professional successor, to your coffee or lunch buddies, to your dentist and hair stylist. Start composing it as soon as I leave. I’ll need it ASAP.”
“Wow.” Madeline rubbed a hand across her brow. “That’s going to be quite a challenge.”
“I’m sure. But it has to be done.” Casey could see that Madeline’s strength was waning. “One more thing and then I’ll let you make that phone call and we’ll call it a morning. What’s changed in your life—either personal or professional—over the past few weeks or months? Anything at all that comes to mind?”
“The merger,” Madeline replied without missing a beat.
“Yes, the hospital merger.” Casey wasn’t surprised that Madeline responded so quickly and went straight to that particular subject. Based on Ryan’s preliminary research, the health care industry was abuzz with news of the merger between Manhattan Memorial Hospital—the hospital where Madeline and Conrad worked—and New York Medical Center.