Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay by Cynthia Hamilton

my time on them.” For the time being, anyway. “I will expand my investigation depending on what I find out about Miss Story’s companion.” This information was met with stony silence.
    “Helen, I’m sorry this has landed on you in the midst of everything else. If it hadn’t been Vivian, I wouldn’t have gotten involved. But the good thing is this matter can stay completely confidential unless it needs to be turned over to the authorities. In the meantime, I hope we can work together to get through the next four days.”
    “Absolutely,” Helen said, a diffident smile returning to her face, as if she hadn’t just broken protocol and revealed her more human side. While Madeline walked to her car, she had to wonder what really went on behind that elastic façade.

SIX
    Master Coffee demonstrated a new combination of moves to her students and watched as they executed the routine. The eight martial arts students—Madeline and Mike included—lunged, kicked, blocked and punched as they advanced across the hardwood floor, each watching themselves in the mirror on the other side of the room. Teri observed their movements, occasionally correcting their form. The students reached the mirror and turned on their heels to repeat the steps back to where they had started.
    Madeline was completely poised as she went through her paces, apparently oblivious to her surroundings as she emphasized each strike with a fierce growl. Breathe, exhale. Breathe, exhale. Although she was completely absorbed in each nuanced move, she was also acutely aware of the way Mike and Teri were observing her from the corners of their eyes.
    But instead of allowing it to break her concentration, Madeline continued to focus on the position of her hands, the height of her legs as she kicked them over her head, the blocks and strikes with her fists. She could tell by the fleeting glimpses that her instructor was impressed. Mike, on the other hand, watched her askance, wondering if Madeline was really that calm. She was good at feigning aloofness when it suited her, like whenever she felt backed into a corner.
    Teri led the class through their stretches at the close of the lesson, then dismissed them with a bow. Before exiting the floor, each student bowed to their instructor, then saluted the flag with a hand to their hearts. Once off the sacred space, the convivial post-class chatter began. Mike hovered near Madeline as she talked to a fellow student. Sensing his protective presence, Madeline gave him a stony look over her shoulder, one that Mike received with a scowl.
    “You’ve got to stop acting like my bodyguard,” Madeline said as she gathered her things together.
    “Somebody’s got to keep an eye on you,” Mike said. Madeline regarded him with arched brows. “You can’t act like this situation is going to magically resolve itself. You need to take this threat seriously.”
    Madeline filled her lungs as a means of controlling her temper as she walked out into the hallway, Mike close on her heels.
    “What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?” she asked, arms akimbo, warning look on her face. “What exactly can I do to make you realize I do appreciate the implications of Yeoman’s death? What do you suggest I do?” she challenged him. “Should I get roaring drunk and drive around until I get a DUI so I can spend the night in the drunk tank? Think I’ll be safer there?”
    “Go ahead, play the hard ass. You’re not fooling me,” Mike said, folding his arms across his chest while he regarded her as though she were a headstrong child.
    “Good work tonight, Madeline,” Teri said as she joined them in the hallway. “Your form was absolutely perfect.” Teri smiled at Madeline and then Mike and immediately sensed the friction between the two. “Anything I can help with?” she asked.
    “No, everything’s fine,” Madeline said. “Thanks for a good class. I needed that. Well, I’ll see you next week,” she said to her