The Intern(50)

“Trust him how? Was he a player?”

She paused, seeing an opening.

“Not with other women, no. It was more like I’d mention something I wanted, and he’d go after it, too. As a matter of fact, that happened with you, Judge.”

“With me? How do you mean?”

“With the internship.”

“But Ty didn’t apply.”

“I thought he was going to, because he tried to talk me out of applying. He warned me away from you.”

The judge’s eyes focused sharply. “Warned you how? Tell me exactly what he said.”

Huh. A chill crept down Madison’s neck. Judge Conroy wasn’t actually interested in her relationship with Ty, was she? She wanted to know what people at the law school said about her. Particularly Ty—and Chloe, Douglas Kessler’s daughter. Madison wasn’t the only one at this table fishing for information.

“Um—it was nothing. He just said you had a reputation for working interns really hard. At the time, I thought he wanted to clear the field to apply for the position himself. But then I heard the last intern was fired.”

The judge frowned. “You heard about that.”

“It’s getting around. Why was she let go?”

“Come on, Madison, you know I can’t discuss personnel matters. Let’s just say not every relationship works out. Speaking of which, what happened with you and Ty?”

“I broke it off at the end of the school year as kind of a bluff, to be honest. I figured he’d miss me over the summer and come crawling back all humble, the perfect boyfriend. Instead, I drunk-dialed him one night, and guess what? Chloe picked up his phone and said he was in the shower.”

“No.”

“Yep. They were both interning in New York. Turns out they got together like two weeks after we broke up. Served me right, I guess.”

“She’s a sly one. You’re not friends with her, are you?”

“I don’t have anything against her. I’m cool with Ty moving on. I have my career to think about. Relationships hold you back.”

“I used to work with her dad. Does she ever talk about me?”

Madison paused. Her instincts were right. The judge was pumping her for information.

“Chloe? Not that I recall. Why?”

“I just wondered. That’s all,” she said, taking a bite of pasta.

They fell silent. Madison considered her strategy. So far, her plan to loosen the judge’s tongue with wine was not working. They were like two prizefighters circling one another but neither landing a blow. Because they both had their guard up.

“I told you about Ty. Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Go ahead,” the judge said, but she did not look happy.

The judge had shut down any discussion of Wallace. Her best bet was to focus on Raymond Logue. How could she bring him up without revealing that she knew of him through Danny? She had to take a roundabout approach. Logue was someone from the judge’s past. He’d danced at her wedding, attended her high school assembly. High school. That was it. She’d ask a question about Catholic Prep. Their shared history. How school was a refuge when their mothers fell ill. How— How a family member helped with their education.

For her it was her aunt. For the judge, an uncle.

A light bulb flashed in her head. Could that be Raymond Logue?

“If you have a question, ask. The food’s getting cold.”

“Okay. So, we talked about how similar our paths have been, right? How our childhoods were difficult, but Catholic Prep was a refuge for us both. I’m interested in, well I’m wondering in particular, what made you want to be a lawyer? You mentioned the uncle who helped you get an education, just like my aunt helped me. Was he a lawyer, too?”

Madison made her eyes wide and innocent. But Judge Conroy wasn’t fooled. She knew where this was going. An angry flush spread up from her neck, and her jaw tightened with fury.

“Why are you here, Madison? What do you want from me?”

Pay dirt. But also danger. Just then the doorbell rang.

“Is it Wallace?” Madison blurted in alarm.

The judge’s mouth fell open. “You know his name?”

The bell rang again, insistently. The judge got to her feet, her gaze roaming the kitchen. The dark-gray Prada tote that she carried everywhere was sitting on the island. She grabbed it, pulling out a gun. Madison’s eyes went wide. She jumped up, ready to run.

“Sit down and be quiet. If it is him, trust me, you don’t want him knowing you’re still here.”

Still? Shit. The implications were clear. Wallace knew she’d been there before. And he was capable of hurting her.

As the judge went to answer, Madison retreated behind the island and took a knife from the block. Not that it would be much help when Wallace and the judge both had guns. Judge Conroy opened the front door, letting in a waft of night air. She was talking to someone. Madison couldn’t make out the words, but the visitor was a woman. Thank God. She breathed out. The conversation went on. Their voices were agitated, angry. Eventually, the judge slammed the door, muttering under her breath as she came back to the kitchen.

Seeing Madison holding the butcher knife, she stopped short, eyes wide.

“What are you doing? Put that away.”