Simon Says Die

tension in the room, he looked back and forth between them. “Did you need more time?”
    Pierce looked down at Madison, raising his brow in question.
    She opened her mouth, as if to say something else, but then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. She moved to her own chair and sat ramrod straight, staring at the far wall.
    What had she been about to say? Was it possible there was still something else she hadn’t told him? He’d have to ask her, later, when they were alone—and when she was ready to answer questions again. Right now she looked so fragile, brittle, as if she were ready to break.
    Alex skimmed the page in the open folder on the table, then looked up at them. “I’m going to assume your husband did the searches on the computer, and somehow planted your prints on the bottle, or maybe changed the label and switched with another bottle of medication you’d handled for your father.” He wrote some notes down. “That makes sense in light of the abduction. The abduction proves he had access to your house. He could have used a locksmith one day while you were out and had another key made, something like that. You’d be surprised how many locksmiths will make a key without verifying proof of address. We’ll have the alarm company check out the door to the basement. Maybe your husband disabled the alarm on that one door so he would have full access to the house.”
    â€œThe alarm was turned off the day of her abduction,” Pierce said, “because the police were going in and out. But you’re right, the alarm company needs to come out and perform a complete security check to see if all the entry point contacts are working. I hadn’t thought about that.”
    Madison looked at him, and he could tell she was wondering if he was going to tell Alex the truth about her prints on the bottle, and the Internet searches. Of course he was. How did she think he could protect her, help build a defense, if they didn’t tell her attorney the truth?
    But for now, he’d rather keep it to himself. He wanted to think about what she’d told him, and see how everything played out. He also didn’t want Alex to decide not to help her. Alex had never been the kind of defense attorney who would defend someone if he thought they were guilty. He was giving Madison considerable latitude, not because he believed her story, but because he was supporting Pierce.
    â€œLet’s discuss the known facts about your father’s death.” Alex looked expectantly at Madison.
    â€œHe had congestive heart failure. He was getting worse, so they put him in the hospital.”
    â€œWas he having surgery? Or being treated with medication?”
    â€œMedication. He improved right away after he was admitted. I thought he’d be going home the next day. I had breakfast with him in his room and he was joking around. Weak but feeling better.”
    â€œThen what?” Alex asked.
    â€œI left for a consultation with his doctors. When I came back, he was sleeping. Thirty minutes later,” she swallowed and cleared her throat. “The alarms started beeping.”
    â€œHe had a heart attack?”
    â€œThat’s what the doctors said. People ran into the room, tried to revive him. But it was too late. He was . . . gone.”
    Alex tapped his pen on the sheet of paper. “So, you were the last person to see your father alive?”
    She frowned. “I guess so.”
    â€œHmm.”
    Some of the paleness left her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œJust that it’s hard to prove your husband killed your father when you were the last person in the room with him.”
    She started to get up, but Pierce wrapped his arms around her shoulders and anchored her to the chair. “We have to fight this, together. You can’t run from this, not anymore.”
    Pain flashed across her face, but she relaxed in his grip.
    Alex poised his pen over his paper again. “Did Damon stop by to see your father that day?”
    â€œYes, earlier that morning.”
    â€œWhat time?”
    â€œI’m not sure. Eight, maybe nine. It’s probably in the log. We had to sign in to go into his room.”
    Alex wrote down some more notes. “You said you had a consultation with the doctors. Do you remember what time that was?”
    â€œAround noon, I guess. Right after lunch.”
    He wrote that