The Escape (US Marshals #1) - Lisa Harris Page 0,71

“And please, don’t tell her I said anything to you about him.”

“Of course not.”

A minute later, Madison stepped into the fifth-floor hallway with Jonas, then searched the door numbers to find the woman’s upscale residence. Mary Margaret had been willing to do anything for this man. The question now was if she was the only one, or if Bianca had succumbed to his charms as well.

“Mrs. Carleton,” Madison said once the woman had opened the door. “Thank you for seeing us.”

“Of course. Please, call me Bianca.”

Bianca Carleton was fifty-three, according to the information they had, and from what Madison could see, her youthful look was expensive—bleached-blonde hair, a few rounds of plastic surgery, and perfectly manicured nails to finish off the image.

She followed Bianca through the entryway with Jonas right behind her.

“Come on in and sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“We’re fine. Thank you.”

Madison stopped at the window before sitting down on the couch, pausing for a few seconds to take in the one hundred and eighty–degree view of the city. “This is beautiful.”

“I know. My late husband and I bought this condo for the view, though it can’t quite compare to the property up in Aspen.”

“You own a condo there as well?” Jonas asked.

“A house on top of Red Mountain.”

“Wow,” Jonas said. “Those views have to be stunning.”

“They are, and I love the place. It’s just a bit too big when you’re there alone. I find myself spending more and more time here in the city, something Jim and I didn’t do when he was alive. He always wanted to be outdoors, away from the city. It just starts to feel so isolated.”

“I can imagine.” Madison sat down next to Jonas on the couch, facing the wall of windows. According to the bio they had on the woman, she also had a home in Florida and a condo in Belize. “We’ll get right to the point. As I said on the phone, we need to talk to you about Damon Barrick.”

“You’re here because you think he’s after my money.”

“Yes, actually.” Madison was surprised at the woman’s statement.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, he’s in prison, so it’s not as if he could hurt me at this point, even if that were true.”

“Mrs. Carleton—”

“Bianca, please.”

“Bianca,” Madison continued, “I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news, but he recently escaped from a prison transport, and we’re looking for him.”

Bianca’s eyes widened. “I heard he was scheduled to come back to Denver for trial at some point, but no, I didn’t know he’d escaped.”

Madison leaned forward. “We know he has a way of convincing women, wealthy women, for a piece of their checkbook.”

“I’m sorry, but I find that completely insulting.” Bianca stood up and faced the window for a few seconds before turning around. “I admit, I had a relationship with the man, but he’s been in prison. Do you really think I have any desire to affiliate myself with a man like that? I might be lonely, but trust me, I’m not that lonely.”

“I’m sorry to upset you. Our only goal is to bring him in and make sure no one gets hurt in the process.”

“With that you have my full support.”

“When is the last time you saw him?”

Bianca’s manicured fingers tapped her leg. “About a week before he was arrested, so about nine months ago.”

“And have you had any contact with him while he’s been in prison?”

She walked over to an antique desk, opened a drawer, then pulled out a stack of envelopes. “He wrote me letters. You can have them if you want, but you won’t find anything in them. Everything he wrote was read by the prison staff, so secret messages are out. And no, I never responded.” She gave them a hardened look. “Like I said, that relationship is one I’d like to forget. Damon is someone I completely severed ties with a long time ago.”

Completely severed ties.

Madison glanced at Jonas. Maybe it was nothing more than a coincidence, but she’d heard that same wording from Mary Margaret. Almost as if they’d both been . . . scripted.

“I would like to take the letters, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” Madison said. “We’ll get them back to you.”

“You can keep them. I’m not sure why I did, except he was a bit of a romantic. And I suppose that because of the twenty-odd years between us, he made me feel young again.”

“What did you know about him?”

“Damon? He was raised by a single

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