Merrville County

  Mackey Residence

  Friday

  5:04 a.m.

  Deputy Chastain maneuvers around the circular driveway and parks several feet from the front porch. He considers honking the horn of his sheriff's SUV but chooses otherwise. The nearest neighbor isn't closer than a few blocks, but why make so much noise early in the morning. The young sheriff's deputy is still having difficulty waking up himself.

  Climbing out of his parked SUV, Morris swiftly heads for the porch. He climbs the steps wearing a bedraggled expression. Two lives ended without so much as an explanation. The total senselessness of it. And now, the press wants to nail Mackey to the wall? After everything Detective Mackey had done to catch that murdering Aquarius prick? Life can truly be such a mess sometimes.

  Deputy Chastain reaches the top step and crosses to the door. He raises his right hand to knock. However, the door is yanked open from the inside. Madison stares out at Morris with red-tinted eyes. It is obvious the new mother has been crying.

  "Morris...Morris, come in. Please," Madison whispers hoarsely. "I've made you some coffee. Please, come in."

  "I can't stay long, Mrs. Mackey," Morris says, attempting to avoid making eye contact with Madison. "I just came to see if James is ready to head down to the station. Is he up yet?"

  "Is he awake? Ha. He never went to bed. I heard him pacing all night. Come in, Morris. Please."

  "Mrs. Mackey, I...,"

  "I insist Morris," Madison says in as snappy a voice as she can manage. "Please. And stop with this Mrs. Mackey business. You've always called me Madison. That's how I know something is really wrong. Get in here. I need to talk to you."

  "Okay," Morris concedes in a quiet whisper, eyes downcast. "Fine. But I can't tell you much more than I did last night. It's an ongoing investigation."

  "I know the damn procedure, Morris," Madison truly snaps, anger building in her chest.

  Madison's overt fury causes Deputy Chastain's eyes to widen. He searches her face with his eyes, feeling like a lowly worm for being so cold to the wife of his dear friend. Why can't he tell Madison everything? She has a right to know her husband may be investigated in the possible death of an unknown young woman. Maybe even in Officer Melbourne's death as well. Does the situation not affect Madison too? And the couple's very newborn son?

  Morris steps cautiously into the house. He peers down at Madison's face, truly appreciating how beautiful she is. The flush to her youthful cheeks causes a flutter in his stomach. It's been a while since he's stepped foot inside this house. The strange tightness in his chest, every time he looks at Madison, is the chief reason why. It's also the same reason he remembers to call the raging beauty by her husband's surname. Another man's wife. And therefore, extremely off limits. Even with his own significant other at home; sometimes a good reminder is like a hard kick in the nuts.

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  "I'm sorry, Madison," Morris says. "I wish I could tell you more. I just can't. It's department procedure. Especially, with a case such as this. I...You know I care about you, Madison. You're a dear friend. I would never keep something like this from you, if I could avoid it."

  "No. I'm sorry, Morris," Madison says, lowering her gaze. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm just...I'm...Morris, he didn't sleep at all. All James did was pace. At one point, I think I even heard him crying. I had my ear to the door. It was muffled, but...I'm sure of it. Morris, my husband was crying. He slept in the damn guestroom last night. What the hell is going on? I'm sure you can tell me something. Anything. Anything is better than wondering what is going through my husband's head. And wondering why he refused to sleep next to me in our bed. Who was she? The young woman who died?"

  Morris glances around, as if expecting to be observed. He steps further into the house and shuts the front door. Madison moves back two steps, but Morris quickly closes the distance. He speaks in a low conspiratorial tone.

  "I really shouldn't tell you this, but...We're not sure who the young woman was. Not at this time. A body hasn't been recovered yet. James was off duty when a call came through. A suspected hostage situation. An officer was killed along with the young woman. Your husband may face a separate investigation. According to some...He shouldn't have even been there. They're trying to shift blame onto James for the young woman being shot. He says the shot came from another building. But without a body, and no way to verify his claim using forensics, things don't look good. Please, Madison. I really shouldn't have told you. But you're my friend. And I...I felt you should know."

  "I won't say a word, Morris. I promise."

  "Even to James," Morris insists. "Don't tell him you heard it from me. Let him think you're in the dark, okay? If you start harping on it...You could do more harm than good. Let him tell you, later. If he feels the need. Just support him, Maddie. Don't nag."

  "Morris?"

  "What, Madison?"

  "You just called me Maddie. I'm used to Madison...And Mrs. Mackey. But I think that's the first time you've ever called me by my nickname," Madison says with a faint smile. "Thank you, Morris."

  "For what?" Morris asks, his heart hammering in his chest.

  "For trusting me," Madison replies. "For telling me the truth. I'm used to being left in the dark. What, with all of you being cops and all. I really appreciate you trusting me. I would never do anything to endanger your careers. I love James. And you're my friend. I've never had many of those. That all changed when I met James. I'm grateful for all of you."

  Madison calmly embraces Deputy Chastain, sobbing into the right sleeve of his uniform. Morris carefully places a hand on Madison's back, rubbing it softly. He wonders if she can hear the rapid beating of his heart.

  Just then, Detective Mackey wanders into the living room. James positively looks like hell--his eyes red and puffy. Like Madison had said, it looks as if he hasn't sleep a wink all night. Morris and Madison separate and glance uneasily in James' direction.

  "James? James, are you okay?" Madison ventures to ask, strolling toward her husband.

  "I'm fine," James says with a weak smile, as Madison caresses his left cheek. "I'm okay, Maddie."

  "Like I believe that," Madison replies, planting a firm kiss on James' lips. "I made you coffee, James. Please come in the kitchen and have a cup. Please. For me."

  Jamie Junior's cry, from up the hallway, interrupts Madison's plea. Madison briefly peers in that direction. She returns her eyes forward, planting a second kiss on her husband's tightly drawn mouth. She sighs as she moves away.

  "Please, James. It's...We've had coffee together every morning practically since we met. Please. Whatever has happened...You're still my husband. And I love you, James. Nothing will ever change that. It's like you told me. Love is about more than words. I love you, James."

  Detective Mackey glances at Deputy Chastain before placing a hand under Madison's chin. He lowers his mouth to hers, kissing Madison tenderly. His eyes are still full of pain as he releases her.

  "Of course, Maddie. We'll have coffee. Just one cup. But then, I have to head out."

  "One cup," Maddie agrees. "That's all I ask."