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“She’s still an adult,” Warren said. “If your friend doesn’t file charges, there’s nothing we can do.”

I cleared my throat. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve done some research. In Colorado, a person can be detained for up to seventy-two hours if a professional feels she’s a danger to herself or others because of her mental state.”

Marie’s eyes widened. “She can?”

“Yeah. We can easily find a licensed professional to testify, if my friend will tell his story. After a court hearing, the detention can be lengthened.”

“No,” Marie said. “Wendy doesn’t need that kind of help.”

“Marie,” Warren said softly, “she pulled a gun on another person.”

I nodded. “Murph may still press charges. I want him to. But Wendy needs professional help that she won’t get through the criminal system. She’s guilty of assault with a deadly weapon, but no one was harmed. She has no previous record, so she’ll get probation and community service if she has a good lawyer. That won’t help her in the long run. She needs professional psychiatric treatment. Plus, I’m not sure Murph will file the report.”

“Good,” Marie said. “I can’t bear the thought of my baby in jail, even for a minute.”

“Why won’t he file?” Warren asked.

“Frankly, he’s a little afraid of your daughter and what she’s capable of.”

“Are you, Brad?” Warren rubbed his chin. “Are you afraid of her?”

Loaded question if there ever was one. I felt certain that I was the one person Wendy wouldn’t harm, but she could easily harm me through others. Murph was only the beginning.

“In some ways I am,” I finally replied.

“I’m sorry,” Marie said. “I won’t have my daughter committed.”

“Marie…” Warren began.

“She’s a genius, Warren. She can do whatever she wants. She can be a nuclear physicist, a rocket scientist, a biomedical engineer.”

“Her major is journalism,” I reminded them.

“A Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter, then,” Marie said.

“Please,” I said. “Wendy needs this.”

“No.” Marie shook her head vehemently. “No, no, and a thousand more times, no.”

“Warren?” I looked to Wendy’s father. Could he talk sense into his wife?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s our only child.”

“Then you should want what’s best for her.”

He stood then. “I need you to leave, Brad. You’ve upset Marie enough.”

“Your friend is probably lying.” Marie wiped a tear that fell from her eye. “Wendy wouldn’t even know how to get a gun.”

I said nothing. She knew well how to get a gun.

Thanks to me.

My biggest mistake so far in my short life had been teaching her how to shoot. I reiterated my promise to myself that I’d never teach another human being to handle a gun. Never, no matter the circumstances.

“My friend isn’t lying,” I said calmly. “Thank you for your time.”

I walked out of the Madigan house. I’d known going in that it was a long shot, but still I’d hoped her parents might take the reins. They weren’t strong people, though—definitely not strong enough to handle the child they’d created. They hadn’t kept her challenged, so she’d found challenges elsewhere.

To all our detriment.

The next conversation about Wendy Madigan would be with my father.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Daphne

Theo Mathias turned out to be a talker once he got comfortable, which was fine with me. I was learning a lot about Brad, plus I didn’t have to make conversation.

“We formed a club in high school,” he was saying. “The Future Lawmakers. Though it was more of a business enterprise. I’m not sure how we came up with that name. Anyway, it became a school club, but Brad, Larry, and I plus one other guy were always the principal members. We added two others eventually. A cheerleader who had the hots for Brad and a guy who had the hots for my little sister. We all still keep in touch, and four of us are still in business. My sister’s engaged to the guy now.”

“Is Brad still in business with you?”

“Sort of. He’s our financial backer. You must know that the Steels are loaded.”

“I got that impression.”

“He never wanted to get involved in the operations. He’s a rancher at heart. That’s his real business, and he’s good at it. We’re just an investment for him.”

“What kind of business are you in?” I asked.

“We’re diverse, but sales, mostly.”

“What do you sell?”

“What don’t we sell? We specialize in buying up popular products in bulk and then selling them individually to make huge profits.”

“So Brad fronts you the money.”

“Yeah. That’s how it began, anyway. We don’t need him as much anymore, but he’s still a silent partner, and he’s made all his money back plus some.”

“A good deal for him, then.”

“A great deal for him.”

I finished my coffee and checked my watch. “I should go. I need to meet him at the library in ten minutes.”

“Absolutely. I’ll walk over with you and say hi.”

“Sure. Okay.” What could it hurt? This guy was a friend of Brad’s.

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