The weekend passed without further incident, with one exception. Madison ran into Matt Prisco late Sunday afternoon while wheeling the recycling and garbage bins out to the curb. His neighbor was polite, but wanted to know what had happened yesterday with “that looker.”
Madison, in turn, was curious as to what Harding had said to him before storming his driveway.
“Something about you being a pervert,” Prisco said. “I don’t know, Phil, she was raving mad. To be honest, with Scott standing right there, I didn’t want to provoke her. She seemed a bit off.”
Prisco was a psychologist, and although Madison didn’t know him professionally, he was impressed that he’d pegged her that quickly.
Madison’s face flushed deep red. “Honestly, Matt, I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but I haven’t got a clue as to what she was talking about.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
He explained in a few sentences who she was and the problems the Consortium had been having with her. Although Prisco listened intently and appeared to understand, Madison couldn’t help but notice something on his neighbor’s face that indicated a shred of lingering doubt. He knew what Jefferies must have been thinking: Harding might be “a bit off,” but that doesn’t mean that what she was ranting about didn’t really happen.
Madison made the long walk back to the house, hoping that Jeffrey would return to town in time to talk with him tonight. He wondered what course of action his friend had in mind.
Monday morning was overcast and unusually humid. As Leeza helped Elliott get ready for school, Jonah sat in front of the TV watching Sesame Street in the playroom on the second floor. Madison was knotting his tie when he heard a knock at the door. Leeza, thinking it was their car pool, allowed Elliott to answer the door. She was in the kitchen when she heard him shout to her. “Mommy, there’s a policeman at the door. And a girl, too.”
“A policeman,” Leeza said as she wiped off her wet hands and walked toward the entryway. “Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Madison?” asked the man in the suit, holding up a badge.
“Yes.”
“Detective Coleman, Sacramento Police Department. This is Detective Valentine,” he said, nodding toward his female partner. “Is your husband home? We’ve got a few questions for him.”
“Elliott, run upstairs and get your father. Hurry,” she said, giving him a slight push on the buttocks.
“What’s this about?”
“We’d rather discuss it with your husband. No offense, ma’am.”
“Offense taken,” she said, turning and walking back toward the kitchen.
Madison came trudging down the stairs, Elliott following closely behind, almost hiding behind his father’s legs.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Phillip Madison?”
“Yeah, what can I do for you?”
“We’d like to ask you some questions about Brittany Harding.”
He shot a glance at Leeza across the hallway, then looked over at Elliott, who was staring with fascination at the gun that was planted in the male detective’s holster inside his suit jacket.
“I have to get to the office, can this wait-”
“It’ll only take a few moments, sir.”
He sighed, reasoning that he was just as curious to find out what this was about as they were to ask him the questions.
“Come in here,” he said, leading them into his den. As they walked into the richly appointed room complete with floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookcases and a matching desk, Leeza came over. He motioned with a nod of his head for her to look after Elliott, then settled into his large leather seat. “Please,” Madison said, gesturing to the guest chairs.
As they sat, the male detective said, “Mr. Madison, I’m Detective Paul Coleman and this is Detective Kimberly Valentine.”
“It’s Doctor, ” he corrected, “and it’s good to meet you.”
“We have a complaint sworn by Brittany Harding. Do you know her?”
“Just what kind of complaint are we talking about?”
“Do you know her?” Coleman pressed.
“Yes.”
“Where were you on the night of September eleventh?”
“Why?”
“We’ll ask the questions, sir,” Valentine said.
“Not without my attorney present.”
Valentine glanced over at Coleman, an I told you so look on her face.
“Fine,” Coleman said. “Call him. We’ll see you at the station in a couple of hours,” he said as he handed Madison his card. They stood up and left, leaving him sitting behind his desk, staring at the card, pondering what wonderful surprises were in store for him now.