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

her wardrobe sufficiently to get through all the “festivities.” That, and Vivian’s assignment were the high points of the day.
    In the middle of her list sat the words that nearly vibrated with radioactive menace. With her highlighter, she circled the names Rick Yeoman and Lionel Usherwood, hoping that would somehow isolate them from the rest of her concerns. Unfortunately, it only served to underscore the threat that the death of Yeoman and the resurfacing of Usherwood presented for her personal safety.
    Madeline shoved the notes aside and looked at Teresa’s W-4. She clicked to start a new file and entered Teresa’s name, address and Social Security number. She double-checked her entries and clicked Run. Within two seconds a message appeared on the screen: This number has not been assigned.
    Madeline let out a frustrated sigh as she compared the information on the W-4 with the data she had entered. She hadn’t transposed anything; every letter and numeral matched the form identically. Unless Teresa had made a mistake, she had used a false ID.
    Despite her disappointment, Madeline wasn’t really surprised; this was not the first time she had encountered a fake SSN. She knew there were ample sources for counterfeit documentation, even in her own backyard. She thought about giving Teresa a chance to verify the info on the W-4, but that would only tip their hand and probably send the girl running. The only benefit she’d gotten from the IRS form was verification that Vivian’s companion was in the country illegally. Whether she was a thief or not remained to be seen.
    Madeline opened another browser and did a Google search for directions to Teresa’s address. As the map printed, she toyed with the idea of swinging by there on her way home. It wasn’t that far out of her way, though it was not in a great neighborhood and it was already dark.
    She consulted her notes for other ways she could productively use her time before heading home for some much needed rest. As she scanned the reminders to herself, she flashed on the scene with Detective Slovitch earlier that day.
    She pushed away from the desk and swiveled thoughtfully. Part of her was all for believing Usherwood would be content with knocking off his former underling. Yeoman had ratted him out to the Feds, and Usherwood—or whoever made the hit—had settled the score. There was no real reason to complicate matters by adding another murder to his résumé. Except for the fact that Madeline had also testified against Lionel Usherwood, the chief henchman of her sociopathic ex-husband.
    Maybe in Usherwood’s warped, psychotic mind, everyone who had thrown in against him would be on his elimination list. But then again, he’d been off law enforcement radar for three years now; why take the risk of being captured now? Get in, make the kill, get out. That sounded much more like a paramilitary approach to her.
    Though she tried to hold on to this comforting scenario, she couldn’t get the last image she had of Usherwood out of her mind. Though she had come a long way since then—mentally, emotionally and physically—she would never forget Lionel’s furious face when he caught sight of her on Figueroa Street and reversed direction to chase her down. That moment was seared into her brain forever.
    Madeline heaved a deep sigh and got up to look out the window. There were still quite a few cars in the parking lot behind her office, despite the hour and the day of the week. Being virtually surrounded by restaurants accounted for the reason it was usually packed. Thinking of her proximity to food caused her stomach to growl. She’d had little to eat all day and had expended a lot of energy. But she didn’t feel like parading around in her karate garb and didn’t fancy the idea of going back down to her car to get her other clothes and coming all the way back up to change. Plus, she didn’t like the idea of lingering in the parking lot longer than