“That’s absurd. I refuse.”
Judge Conroy sighed and leaned sideways, reaching for something hidden in the murk, outside the circle of lamplight. She stood up with the gun in her hand, leveling the barrel at Madison’s chest.
“You wouldn’t shoot me. You couldn’t,” Madison said, but she was shaking.
“You have no idea what I am capable of when pushed. Do it.”
When Madison returned to the conference room after meeting with Danny, Brooke Lee told her that Judge Conroy had murdered Douglas Kessler. The prosecutors showed her evidence, but it was all circumstantial. A text from Kessler to the judge arranging to meet. Photos of Kessler’s car in a parking garage with the windows shot out. A woman they claimed was the judge in a dark wig, at what they said was the same garage. Madison hadn’t believed them then because the Kathryn Conroy she knew was no killer. Maybe it was time to reevaluate that.
Kicking off her sneakers, she stepped out of her jeans, and pulled the sweater over her head. She stood in her underwear, numb with disbelief that it had come to this.
“Turn around,” the judge said, gesturing with the gun.
She pirouetted. There was no visible wire taped to her chest or back.
“I suppose they think they’re clever,” the judge said, picking up the puffer coat and checking the pockets, patting down the fabric for anything concealed in the lining.
She clicked her teeth impatiently.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Tell me where it is.”
“If you mean a wire, I’m not wearing one.”
“You’re not wearing it. Okay. Hand me your backpack.”
Madison retrieved the backpack, which she’d dumped in the hall, and advanced on the judge.
“Stop there,” she said, brandishing the gun. “Slide it over and back up.”
Madison propelled the backpack across the smooth parquet floor. The judge turned it upside down and shook everything out onto the coffee table. Her phone, papers, notebooks, pens, a hat, an empty water bottle.
The judge picked up the phone, which Olivia had returned to her before she left DC.
“Is this it? It’s set to record?”
“No.”
“What’s your passcode?”
She said it. The judge unlocked the screen, checking to see if the voice note function was enabled. It wasn’t.
“What is it, some special software you downloaded?”
“There’s nothing.”
She was telling the truth. Not believing her, the judge took the phone and smashed it against the corner of the coffee table. The screen cracked. Madison winced, but Judge Conroy wasn’t satisfied. Slipping past Madison, she opened the door to the powder room and tossed the phone into the toilet.
“My phone. No.”
It was her most prized possession. Her life was on that thing.
“The FBI can buy you a new one,” the judge said.
“You destroyed it for nothing. It wasn’t recording.”
“Well, then, I’d better keep looking.”
The judge was relentless. She went through pockets and compartments, throwing anything else she found on the pile and then examining everything meticulously, including looking inside the Kleenex pack and the earbuds case, the ChapStick and tin of breath mints.
Nothing.
“Hand me your clothes.”
Madison tossed her jeans and sweater onto the sofa. The judge went over them with equal zeal, coming up empty.
“Your underwear.”
“Judge. No.”
“I’m not giving up till I find the damn thing. If you don’t want to strip down, just tell me where it is.”
“You can see there’s nothing. There’s nowhere to hide it. Look.”
She drew within a couple of feet of the judge, tugging her underwear away from her skin and shimmying, doing the same with her bra, which was lacy and sheer anyway.
Judge Conroy slammed her hand on the table. “I’m tired of this stupid game. Where is it?”
“I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”
“You could tell the truth about where you’ve been.”
“Fine. Yes, I went to DC. I met with them. I’ll tell you exactly what happened if you’ll just let me get dressed. Please? It’s cold in here.”
Sighing, the judge sat back. “All right, go ahead.”
Now that the argument was over, Lucy strolled in and rubbed up against Madison’s legs, getting in the way as she tried to put on her jeans.
“Lucy, here. Stay away from her.”
The cat looked skeptical. Judge Conroy had to put the pet carrier aside before Lucy would agree to get on the sofa. Their negotiation gave Madison a moment to catch her breath. To be forced to disrobe at gunpoint had shaken her, but it shouldn’t have. Olivia had warned her that might happen. Wallace knows we took you from the police station. He’ll assume we met, and that you’re cooperating. If he knows, she knows. She’ll probably pat you down, so we won’t send you in wired yet. Your job is to allay her suspicions. Talk her around, win her trust back. Once she trusts you, that’s when we wire you up.
Madison sat down, a nervous flutter in her chest. She’d rehearsed what to say and how to say it. Tell enough of the truth to be credible. Don’t apologize. Let your anger show. The advice helped with the fear but not the guilt. She didn’t want to be responsible for bringing Judge Conroy down. That was foolish, even self-destructive. She needed to overcome her schoolgirl hero worship of the judge and do the right thing for herself. Or else Kathryn Conroy would walk away unscathed and leave Madison and her family to pay the price.
“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Judge Conroy said.
“You want to know why I met with them?” Madison said, the anger rising in her voice. “Because your psychotic boyfriend kidnapped me and threatened to kill me. Was I supposed to just sit back and accept that?”
“If you mean Charlie, he’s not my boyfriend.”
“I don’t care what he is to you. He’s a complete psycho. He planted drugs on me. Me, who’s never been in trouble a day in my life. Then he threatened to murder me for snitching to the feds, which I was totally innocent of. And he might’ve succeeded, if they didn’t pick me up on a transfer. That’s why I agreed to meet with them. He gave me no choice.”
Judge Conroy dropped her head into her hands, rubbing her eyes.
“I understand. I believe you, and I’m sorry that happened to you. But I still need to know whose side you’re on. Keep talking. You met with them. They asked about me, obviously. What did you say?”
“You know, not everything is about you. I was more interested in convincing them not to arrest me. Come to find out, you’re implicated in the assassination of a federal prosecutor, and because of my association with you, I am too. I had nothing to trade. No proof to give. No testimony. Because you don’t confide in me. You know that better than anyone. I’m a target, and useless to them as a witness. Because of you. They let me go. But they said they’re not done with me, and I’m sick over it.”
The judge looked genuinely upset.
“Madison, I’m sorry. I never meant for any of that to happen to you. I want you to know I had nothing to do with that murder. Brad McCarthy was my friend.”
“Yes, well. Being your friend gets people killed, apparently.”
Judge Conroy exhaled, hard and sharp, like she’d been slapped. Her eyes filled with tears. She made a valiant effort to hold them back, but a few spilled over and rolled slowly down her cheeks, sparkling in the lamplight.
“I can’t argue with you. Brad. Doug. Matthew. They died because of me. I don’t want that to happen to you. I can’t deny you’re in a horrible position. That’s why I’m concerned about a wire. I wouldn’t blame you if you flipped on me.”