Simon Says Die by Lena Diaz

tell.
    â€œW HY DID YOU go to MacGuffin’s?” Pierce asked. “The place wasn’t even open.”
    Madison’s eyes widened, and Pierce saw a flash of panic cross her face. He could practically see the gears spinning in her mind, searching and sifting for that elusive answer, the lie she would tell to get him to leave her alone.
    Tough. She could lie to him all day, and it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t going to leave her alone until he got the truth.
    â€œMacGuffin’s,” he repeated.
    She stared out over the battlefield. “Damon . . . mentioned the place a few times. I thought someone there might remember him, that maybe they’d spoken to him and might know where he’s staying.”
    â€œYou thought the man that you think is trying to kill you might hang around that place, so it was a good idea to go there?”
    She winced. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like a very good idea. But I always keep a gun with me.” She frowned at him. “Or at least, I did.”
    He wanted to shake some sense into her. Thank goodness Casey had sent an agent to keep an eye on her. The agent had later told Pierce he spoke to her right outside the FBI building, that she had claimed to have a headache and seemed upset. Right now, Pierce was the one with a headache.
    And its name was Madison.
    He had to concentrate to keep his voice even, and his exasperation from showing on his face. He needed information, and getting Madison’s hackles up wouldn’t get him anywhere.
    â€œAnd did they?” he asked. “Did anyone at MacGuffin’s remember Damon?”
    â€œNo. And before you ask, no one remembered him anywhere else I went either. I got nowhere today.” She waved her hand in the air. “Honestly, I don’t see how you detective-types figure out who the bad guys are, or where the bad guys are, with so little to go on.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll check out the museums. Damon was always big on art. If he’s in Savannah, he couldn’t resist going to the museums. Someone has to remember him.”
    She wasn’t going anywhere without him, but he’d straighten her out about that later. He watched her closely as he asked his next question. “I need you to answer me truthfully, Mads. Did Damon ever hit you?”

 
    Chapter Seven
    M ADISON’S FACE TURNED bright red, and she looked genuinely outraged. “Do you really think I would have stuck around if Damon had ever hit me?”
    â€œIt happens. Even strong women can feel trapped in those situations, unsure what to do. Leaving isn’t always as easy as you’d think it should be.”
    She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Well, regardless, he never hit me.”
    He waited for her to shove her hair back behind her ears. That was her “tell,” like a neon sign letting him know she probably wasn’t telling the truth. It wasn’t an infallible test, but judging by the look on her face, he was confident she wasn’t lying now. Damon hadn’t abused her. Relief swept through him.
    â€œThen what was so horrible about your marriage?”
    â€œWhat makes you think it was horrible?”
    â€œYou think he’s trying to kill you. Is that your idea of a good marriage?”
    She wrapped her arms around her middle. “It wasn’t always that way,” she said, her voice quiet and small. “When I met him, he was charming. He doted on me, and I was crazy about him. My brother tried to warn me things were going too fast, that I didn’t know enough about Damon. Actually, no one in my family liked him very much. But I didn’t want to listen. We were married two months after we met.”
    Two months, about the same amount of time he’d known her when she’d ended their relationship. He hoped that thought hadn’t figured into her reasons for leaving him. Being