Death's Door. Meryl Sawyer

not to leave a trail to others. They won’t find anything on her computer or her phones that will link her to the group.”

      Madison turned, hearing someone calling her name. A paunchy man with gray hair and eyebrows like steel wool was heading their way. She didn’t recognize him, and she was fairly certain he hadn’t been at the chapel. She’d given instructions to the guards to admit anyone to the island for the reception.

      “Ridley Johnson,” he told them in a breathless voice. “I’m Erin Wycoff’s attorney. Sorry I couldn’t get to the funeral. I had a deposition.”

      Madison stared at the man, not quite believing what she was hearing. Why would Erin need an attorney? She’d never mentioned one. But then, there had been a lot of things her friend had neglected to tell her.

      “I have to fly to New York tomorrow morning.” He shrugged. “That’s the price of being a one-man operation. You’re on the go all the time.”

      Madison tried for a sympathetic smile, but her mind was still on Erin. What else hadn’t Erin told her? Maybe if she’d been more open with her, Madison might be able to help the police find her killer.

      The lawyer looked at Rob, but spoke to Madison. “Could we talk in private? It’s about Miss Wycoff’s estate.”

      Madison almost laughed at the word estate. Other than a few pieces of gold jewelry, Erin didn’t have much. “This is my friend Robert Matthews. He was also a close friend of Erin’s. You can talk in front of him.”

      The lawyer arched one eyebrow skeptically, then said, “Miss Wycoff had me draw up a will for her about six months ago. She left you everything.”

      For a gut-cramping second the world froze. “She did? I’m surprised Erin bothered with a will. She didn’t have much.”

      He gazed at her for a long moment in a way that struck her as odd. “Like I explained to the police, the exact worth of her estate won’t be clear until the sale of the property is finalized and some back taxes paid. But it’s in the neighborhood of eleven million dollars.”

      Eleven million? The magnitude of this news poleaxed her brain. She managed to whisper, “Are you sure?”

      “What property?” asked Rob.

      “It’s six acres outside Tallahassee. She inherited it from her parents. It was in the sticks when they bought it. The town’s spread out and a new shopping center is going in. She agreed to sell the land to the developer. It’s in escrow right now.”

      “Oh my God,” Madison whispered. The police were already suspicious of Madison. Now they would have a motive for murder.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      What does forensic mean?

      MADISON BROUGHT Aspen to work with her the morning following the funeral. The dog must have spent most of his life in a cage. She refused to lock him up inside the house all day long. There wasn’t any yard where she was staying. When she bought her own place, it would need to have an outdoor area for Aspen.

      She wasn’t exactly sure when she’d decided to keep the retriever, but it had been in the back of her mind since she’d seen her closest friend’s dead body. The dog meant a lot to Erin or she wouldn’t have taken him home. There was nothing she could do for Erin now. It was too late for that, but she could help the dog. She was positive that’s what Erin would have wanted.

      “You, like, got a dog,” Jade said the second Madison walked through the door. The receptionist’s black hair was now a suspicious shade of red and gelled heavenward. “How cool is that?”

      “His name is Aspen.” She looked around but didn’t see Aiden or Chloe in their cubicles. “He’ll be coming to work with me until I find a place with a yard.”

      “I’m sorry about your friend,” Jade said as she gave Aspen a pat. “Like, what a terrible thing to happen.”

      “The worst, believe me. The worst.” She let her eyes roam over the small cube farm for a moment. It had been days since she’d been in the office. “What did I miss?”

      Jade didn’t have an official title. No one but Aiden and Madison were called anything but associates. This had been the cornerstone of their “anticorporate” philosophy, but as part of the divorce settlement, Aiden and Madison became copresidents. Since Jade’s desk was up front, she was the receptionist by default to the few visitors. Her main function was to assist Aiden and Madison. Jade’s Goth appearance might be off-putting, but she was sharp. Madison knew Jade had been on top of everything while Madison was away.

      “Not much happened,” Jade replied. “I put all the messages on your desk. Aiden may have, like, checked your e-mail for you.”

      “Why would he do that?”

      Jade shrugged and her expression curdled. “I guess he was trying to help. How cool is that?”

      “Help with what?” she asked, trying to conceal her anger but hearing its undertone in her voice anyway. Once, they’d flitted in and out of each other’s cubicles, checked each other’s e-mails and written responses for each other. Those days were over. They no longer visited each other’s cubes unless it was absolutely necessary.

      “Aiden must have thought you were, like, so busy with the funeral.”

      But he couldn’t be bothered to come to the funeral. Madison doubted Aiden was trying to help. What had he been up to? She realized this was Jade’s way of letting her know without being a snitch. She smiled at Jade while silently applauding her own sixth sense. Something had told her Jade would be an asset to the company despite her questionable fashion sense.

      “Where is Aiden?” Madison asked.

      “He’s at the hospital with Chloe.”

      From Jade’s matter-of-fact tone, Madison could tell Chloe wasn’t seriously ill. “What happened?”

      Jade rolled eyes lined with a paintbrush. “Chloe got headlights. How cool is that?”

      “A car accident?” Madison immediately thought of the Porsche Boxster that Aiden had bought for Chloe right after he walked out on Madison.

      “No. Like, you know, headlights.”

      “Oh.” The light dawned. Headlights were the rage in SoBe, where the babes paraded around with surgically enlarged breasts showcased by skimpy, tight tops. Erect nipples—a total turn-on for guys—crowned perfect chests. To keep them permanently erect, a surprising number of women had their nipples injected with cosmetic fillers that were also used to erase lines and plump up lips.

      The whole thing sounded so painful, so ridiculous, that Madison couldn’t imagine suffering through the procedure just to attract men. But Chloe was different. Madison had sensed it when she’d interviewed her for a position at Total Trivia. There was something about Chloe that she hadn’t liked, but Madison had been so impressed by her credentials that she’d ignored her instincts.

      As time had gone on and Madison had the opportunity to watch Chloe, she began to understand how insecure the woman was. Chloe had a brilliant mind, but she relied on sex to get her what she wanted. How did Aiden feel about this? she wondered. Did he like having a wife who turned heads? Was that what had been wrong with their marriage? Madison was attractive, but men didn’t drool when she walked into a room.

      “Chloe was so sick the day after her surgery that Aiden canceled his lunch with Luis Estevez.”

      Luis Estevez! A frisson of alarm skittered down her spine. They’d discussed adding gambling to Total Trivia and the possibility of using Allied Miami Bank, but they’d put off a decision. Rumors of mob connections and drug money surrounded the bank president who’d left Cuba as a child and had made a fortune in Little Havana, then moved into Miami’s financial district.

      Madison and Aiden had agreed to wait and think about gambling. No, she mentally corrected herself, she’d told