Page 34 of Deception

“He could be anywhere. His law firm represents clients all over the States.”

“But his office will know ... right?”

She blew out a hard breath and nodded. “I doubt they’ll tell me. They’ll figure if he doesn’t answer my calls, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe they’ll at least get in touch with him for me.”

He frowned. “They won’t tell you where he is?”

“Nope. He’s always kept business and family separate. I’m not sure Mom always knew where he went on his business trips.” She turned to open her car door. “Well, again, thank you.”

“Wait,” Clayton said. “You have my cell number, but I don’t have yours.”

“It should be on your cell phone from when I called you earlier.”

“Give it to me again.” He added the number she rattled off to his contacts. “I’ll call you in the morning ... I mean this morning when I get to the hospital and let you know if our victim is awake.”

“Thanks.”

Clayton waited until Madison pulled out of the drive before he turned and walked to his SUV. Not many people he knew could’ve handled the problems she’d had thrown at her tonight. But then, something told him Madison Thorn wasn’t like any person he’d ever met.

Clayton rolled his shoulders to stretch out the kinks before getting behind the wheel. He was wound tighter than a steel drum. After he pulled away from Judge Anderson’s house, Clayton thought about the two cases. Both involved Madison, but were they connected?

A few minutes later, he glanced up and with a start realized he’d driven almost straight to the casino. In the past, blackjack was how he’d unwind from a hard day. His heart raced as he stared at the dark street up ahead that led down the hill to the gambling boat.

All he had to do was take a right, park his SUV, and amble inside. The day’s worries would be lost in a haze of smoke and the excitement of waiting for the next card to turn or the next roll of the dice. Clayton gripped the steering wheel, his hands sweaty.

He was a new creation. Gambling was the old thing. He shook himself, and when the light changed to green, he pressed his foot to the gas pedal, his tires squealing.

The strong lure of the game had slammed Clayton from out of nowhere. While it was a war he waged every day, he hadn’t had such a strong pull to the casino in a while. Now wasn’t the time to let his guard down.

When he pulled into his drive, he went inside and quickly changed into running clothes and shoes. A few minutes later the rhythmic slap of his feet as they hit the pavement freed his mind. Usually after a mile he slipped into the “zone” as he ran the two-mile circuitous route he’d mapped out in his neighborhood. But not tonight. He couldn’t shake how he’d felt when he saw that he was about to turn into the casino.

Clayton hadn’t been back to the casino since the night he encountered Luke Fereday there two years ago. The Investigative Services Branch ranger hadn’t come out and accused Clayton of having a gambling problem, but there’d been a question in Luke’s eyes.

That week Clayton faced facts for the first time—he’d maxed out his credit card to the tune of ten thousand dollars, all in gambling debts, and he’d turned to alcohol to lessen the pain.

Clayton hadn’t always lost money, and it wasn’t like he’d blown the money he’d won. He’d taken the money and applied it to his mom’s loan on her house. Therein lay the problem after the cards turned against him—until that night with Luke Fereday, he’d thought if he kept playing, the cards would eventually fall in his favor.

He’d quit gambling and drinking cold turkey and paid off the debts. And he’d found a therapist who specialized in addictions.She’d been the one who explained that he needed a substitute for his gambling habit. That he couldn’t just quit a bad habit without something to take its place. Running had been that replacement.

Clayton thought about calling his sponsor. No, it was much too late to bother him, and he decided to wait until their regular meeting later in the week. Besides, he was okay now. Instead, he focused on clearing his head with running.

Most nights he ran the route once. Tonight, it took two rounds to calm his nerves. His chest heaving, he shed his clothes as he walked inside his house and then hopped in the shower.

It had been a long day and sleep came quickly, but if it hadn’t, he was prepared to recite Scripture verses until it did.

When Clayton’s alarm went off at six thirty, he crawled out of bed and grabbed his Bible and a cup of coffee. Last night he’d been blindsided when he realized he’d driven straight to the casino, and he needed reinforcements. He camped out in the first few verses of Isaiah 26. Twenty minutes later, he closed his Bible and breathed a heartfelt prayer for help.

At eight o’clock, his phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. Hugh Cortland. When he answered, the FBI agent got straight to the point.

“How did Madison Thorn handle the two shootings last night?”

“Fine, as far as I could tell, but why are you asking?”

Hugh hesitated. “Since Evan McCall has requested that she work the Coles Creek shooting with you, I need to fill you in on her past so you won’t be caught off guard if it comes up.”

Clayton listened as Hugh related the details of the shooting in Texas four years ago. “Even though she killed Chad Turner in self-defense, Madison hasn’t worked a violent crime since, even though she received the Medal of Valor for saving Chad’s son and shutting down the human trafficking ring.”

“I totally get it that she wouldn’t want to work violent crimes, but from what I observed last night, she won’t let her past getin the way of doing a good job with this case,” Clayton said. “I don’t see a problem working with her on it.”

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