Ties That Bind

Chapter 40

MADISON PACED OUTSIDE THE ROOM waiting for Ethan to finish his mandated break. The smell of vomit was plastered in her sinuses. She should have something to drink while Ethan worked on flushing the chunks out of his system. That thought made her squeamish. Maybe a strong coffee would kill some of the odor...

She had to wonder if she was the only lucky person in life that had to wait, torturously, while circumstances forced a dramatic pause. A simple question about his whereabouts on Sunday morning had elicited quite the response. She was going to love his answer to the question. She tapped her foot on the floor.

Terry came up to her with a cup of coffee.

It was as if he had read her mind. Madison reached out and took it from him. "How nice of you."

"Hey..." He stopped talking as he watched her draw back on the coffee.

"Thanks, buddy." She handed the cup back to him.

He scowled at her. "My coffee."

"Oh, stop being a baby. I'd make that sacrifice for you. It's not like it's great coffee here."

He mumbled, "I'm sure you wouldn't."

She smiled at him. He was right. She probably wouldn't. Coffee was sacred, even if it was from the bullpen and potentially an hour old. The thought made her laugh.

"What's so funny?"

Both their faces fell serious as Ethan went past them into the room. They went in after him.

"Where were you last Sunday morning between five and eight?" Madison felt a disgusting taste in her mouth, remembering what had resulted the last time she asked the question. She noticed Younge adjust his seated position.

Golden reassured his client. "You don't have to answer that if you don't wish to."

"There are other means of determining where you were, Mr. Younge. Do you own a silver '98 Honda?"

Younge shot a look to his lawyer and answered. "No."

The response puzzled Madison. "No? I find that curious as the DMV records show you do. And you also have a license plate number AVL 34A."

"I just sold it..." He stopped talking. "AVL?"

"When did you sell the car?"

"Monday."

"So the day after Heather Nguyen's murder?" Talk about convenient. "You knew you were spotted and needed to get rid of the vehicle."

"Speculation." Golden put a hand down heavily on the table.

Younge spoke anyway. "Ridiculous. The Honda was actually my wife's car. I bought her an updated model. Check your records again." He crossed his arms and extended his legs, stretching them out to full length under the table.

"You haven't declined the possibility of your being spotted, Mr. Younge." She had him in a tight little corner.

He opened his mouth but stalled, appearing as if he didn't know where to start.

"So you must have been in Mitchell Park between five and eight Sunday morning."

"I was there."

"Between five and eight?" She repeated her question.

His facial expression went vacant.

"I'll take that as a positive answer."

"Absurd. You can't presume my client's guilt by omission of an answer."