by Dale Mayer
“Well, that’s kind of creepy,” she muttered.
“Yep, it is. The whole thing is creepy. I didn’t explain it very well, but, if Ben is the type to die for his art, that’s the kind of thing he would do, isn’t it?”
“And that’s even worse,” she said.
Quinn chuckled. “We’ve all seen an awful lot in life that doesn’t make any sense. This could be just another one of those.”
“Maybe,” she muttered. “But still, you’d like to think you could latch on to something logical there.”
“But isn’t that what you found out before? That there’s just nothing sane to latch on to?”
“I guess. It’s still distressing.”
“Yep. I get it,” he said. “Just not that easy to figure out.”
“No,” she said. “It isn’t. Still, it is what it is.”
Quinn chuckled. “I’m ready to go home and to get some sleep. How about you?”
“Yeah, me too,” she said, “but we’ll have to tear Fallon away from inside.”
Just then Fallon stepped out and looked at the two of them. “Wagner will take Peter down to the station for the night. They’ll grill him and see what kind of connections he might have had, see whether it’s possible that he’s the one who dropped off Ben’s body at the compound.”
“Oh, speaking of which,” Quinn said, “it doesn’t look like Ben died here either.”
“Nor in his apartment,” Fallon said. “Not enough blood.”
“So, we still don’t have a crime scene yet,” Quinn noted.
“No, unless it’s the drop-off vehicle because a fair bit of blood was found there.”
“And who drove the vehicle is another question.”
“I highly suspect we’ll find that it’s one of the people in this artsy crowd.”
“So completely unrelated to Bullard then?” Quinn asked Fallon.
“I don’t know,” Fallon said. “Until we get to the bottom of it, the answer will have to be a maybe.”
She snorted at that. “With that ounce of wisdom,” she said, “why don’t we head home and get some sleep.”
“It’s almost morning,” he said. “Maybe we should just skip the night’s rest.”
“Maybe you can, but I can’t do that,” she said. “I’m really good at power napping, and running for a few hours on a thirty-minute nap, even a ten- or fifteen-minute nap, but I can’t skip it completely.”
“And it’s not necessary,” Quinn said. “Let’s go home.”
As they drove back, she sank against the seat and said, “I wonder if it’s all because of Uncle Dave. He’s the one who warned Ben off. Maybe the photographer told the rest of the group that he’d been warned off.”
“Oh,” Fallon said, “now that’s a possibility.”
“It makes as much sense as anything,” Quinn said. “How verbal was Dave?”
“Very,” she said. “He caught Ben on the compound property, really irate that somebody had been bothering me, had followed me home. Uncle Dave ordered me into the compound, while he chewed him out.”
“Of course,” Fallon said. “You only have to think about the role he’s played in your life to understand that.”
“Maybe, and I wasn’t there to hear the exchange, so I don’t know how bad it was. But I could see their body language during that conversation. The question is whether anybody was there with them at the time.”
“Interesting. So that’s definitely something we can ask Dave about,” he said, as he checked his watch. “Potentially as soon as we get home. That would be our first place to look.”
“Exactly,” she said. Just then they pulled into the compound, with gates and doors opening, then locking behind them as they headed to the garage.
As they walked inside, she watched as Fallon checked the front door. “Did you do the same thing here?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Also, before I go to sleep, I’ll also check the security cameras, to ensure we didn’t have any visitors while we were gone.”
“Right,” she said. “You do you—I’m heading off to bed.” With that, she was more than delighted to turn her back on the whole mess and headed upstairs to her room.
*
“Let’s run through that videotape,” Fallon said, “and see what we’re looking at.”
Together, the two men searched the security cameras for the time frame from dinner forward. But found nothing.
“On that note, let’s make sure we’re locked down and get some sleep.”
Quinn agreed.
“I also need to call Dave.”
“You do that,” Quinn said. “Me, I’m crashing. My head’s killing me.”
“You sure you don’t want to get that checked, just in case?”
“Very sure,” he said. “That’s the last thing I want to deal with.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But, if it’s a major injury, we can’t take that chance.”
“No way,” he said. “You know how I feel about doctors.”
“You feel the same way we all do,” Fallon said, with a laugh. “But that won’t necessarily help. I’d just feel a lot better to know that your head is okay.”
“Well, you won’t get that reassurance from me until tomorrow morning. Linny might look at it. In the meantime, I just have a lousy headache.”
Fallon watched worriedly as Quinn headed up the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight and hearing, Fallon quickly phoned Dave.
Dave answered, his voice exhausted. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “Why are you calling at this hour?” Fallon quickly filled in Dave on the evening’s events. “Wow,” he said. “That’s terrible.”
“What I want to know from you,” he said, “is if you have any idea who might have done this.”
“It’s hard to even remember,” he said. “I talked to that guy a couple times, on the phone, but the last time, in person? Well, I came pretty close to beating the crap out of him. He’d driven in and was trying to get a picture of her.”
“You didn’t mention that before,” Fallon said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We found all kinds of photos in his little darkroom.”
“But were they recent photos?”
“Yes, taken off the street, pictures of her getting in another vehicle, things like that.”
“Well, good,” he said, with relief. “I don’t think I could stand it if I thought some asshole had been accessing the house.”
“We found two bugs inside the compound, but no evidence of any photos taken from inside,” Fallon said. “Was anyone else with Ben, when you spoke to him?”
“Another guy but I don’t know who he was. I honestly didn’t pay much attention. I was much more concerned about the fact that I finally had Ben there in my hand.”
Fallon could completely understand that. Nothing like the satisfaction of knowing your quarry was right there, ready for you to pound into the ground, if need be. He understood Dave’s complete panic at seeing his niece in a compromising position or being bothered by somebody troublesome.
“Well, I understand all that,” Fallon said. “But, if I had any idea of who was with Ben,” he said, “he would be high on my list, and the next one I’d want to check out.”
“You know what?” Dave said. “He was a small guy.”
“How small?”
“At first, I thought it was just a kid, but I think he was probably thirty or so. I don’t know. I remember thinking that he still had acne, like a teenager. And I was kind of pissed off, thinking that somebody else was going after her.”
“But did he give any inclination of giving a damn?”
“Honestly the guy was kind of creepy. Something wasn’t normal about him.”
“Well, that jives with what we found so far,” he said. “I’ll keep digging. You keep looking for Bullard.”
“Oh, don’t worry. That’s all I’m doing. The first two men were a no. I have to travel to a different set of islands to see about the third.”
“Go
od searching,” he said. With that, the two men rang off. Fallon made his way up to bed and, just as he walked past her room, Linny opened her door. He looked at her in surprise. “Can’t sleep?”
“You were talking to Uncle Dave. Did he have anything to offer?”
“Only something about the other guy who had been with Ben, when Dave confronted them. Dave said he was small and thought at the time he had teenage acne, but, in hindsight, realized the guy was probably thirtysomething.”
“So could be another one of the group members then,” she said.
“That’s tomorrow’s work,” he said, “and technically I’ve got the team on it already.”
“Good,” she said, with a bright smile. “Maybe I can sleep now.”
“I was hoping you already were asleep.”
“Not yet,” she said. Then she turned and headed back inside her room.
He was left with an image of her long sleek back and creamy skin. He shook his head, as he walked into his room. “Great, glad she can sleep because now I need a shower.” But he laughed at himself because it was no different than it ever had been. She’d always been deadly to his senses, and only due to his self-control and his respect for Dave, had Fallon held back.
Quinn had called Linny Fallon’s fatal flaw, saying, if it were any other woman, Fallon would have made a move a long time ago. But he didn’t want to upset Dave or the status quo. Quinn was right, and Fallon still wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it. But he figured it would be something he’d have to deal with, sooner or later, given the attraction between them. At least on his part.
But, as he thought about the look in her eye, as she’d studied him, he realized it was definitely a two-way street. And somehow that just made it all that much harder to go to his lonely bed all alone. But determined to still be as honorable as possible in a situation where everything could still go to hell in a handbasket, he knew he needed sleep more than trying to clear the air and seeing just where the cards fell. He could do that later. Provided he kept her safe enough that there would be a later.
Chapter 9
Linny woke up bright and early and twisted in the bed slightly for a better position, groaning as her body ached from the lack of a good sleep.
“Not that I wouldn’t give up sleep for some better activities to enjoy,” she muttered. Of course what she should have done last night was made a move on Fallon, but he’d looked so tired and worn out that she didn’t want to start something that might not go in the direction they both wanted it to go. Obviously they had some issues to sort out between them, but, as she had known from her conversation with Uncle Dave, Fallon cared, and cared a lot. That’s why he stayed away.
She didn’t understand that and struggled to work her way through Uncle Dave’s explanation, but, when she finally did get it, her uncle had suggested she would never change it, due to the abundance of honor Fallon possessed. She understood that, and it was a hard point to argue, but, at the same time, she was also fed up with it. She’d told Uncle Dave flat-out, “Fallon’s got this week. Before I leave to go home, I’ll shake up his resolve a whole lot more than I’ve ever done before. I need to know if anything’s there or not.”
Now that it was morning, and she was somewhat rested, she wondered about walking into his room and crawling into his bed. Chances were, he was already up and having coffee though. And, of course, Quinn was still in the house. That wouldn’t bother her though because he already understood the lay of the land. She was well past being embarrassed about it. What she didn’t want to do was have any more time go by without one of them making a move. She herself had had a million excuses as to why she shouldn’t have a relationship with Fallon, but, now that she was here, she didn’t want to lose what could be a potentially life-changing event—something that she’d wanted for a very long time.
She’d always struggled with short-term relationships but had had a few, if for only stress relief during the years of rigorous schooling she had just completed. Still, a certain level of exhaustion remained in her system that she was worried about, but she was getting there. She just needed a little bit longer to relax and to rest up. If this nightmare around her would give her a break, that would be awesome, but the chances of it happening weren’t looking all that great right now.
That was too damn bad because it was getting seriously ridiculous. She needed to go home soon, but she did have a little bit more time, though she hadn’t let anybody know that. Her uncle knew, but she didn’t know if he’d passed it on to the others.
She threw back the covers and groaned as she slid out of bed and headed for a hot shower. As soon as she was clean and wrapped up in a towel, she headed back to her room, studying the few items of clothing she had brought with her. She always traveled light, but she hadn’t done laundry yet, so her clean clothing options were looking a little meager. But she would make it work.
When she was dressed and ready, she made her way down to the kitchen, hearing only silence around her. When she got there, she frowned and touched the coffeemaker, finding it warm, so a pot had already come and gone. So the men were up, even though she hadn’t necessarily heard them. Feeling a little disgruntled to be the last one moving, early as it was, she put on another pot of coffee and opened up the fridge, looking for something to eat, for a whole lot more sustenance than she’d had of late.
She pulled out eggs and bacon. As soon as she had bacon frying, the two men drifted toward her. Sniffing the air, Quinn said, “That smells good.”
“Nothing like the smell of bacon,” Fallon added.
“I know, right?” she said. As she turned and gave them both a bright smile, she studied Fallon’s face. “How are you two doing?”
“We’re good,” Quinn said. “And, yes, I’m fine.”
She smiled. “How many times have you had to answer to Fallon over your head injury?”
Quinn rolled his eyes and laughed.
She smiled. “At least you know he cares.”
“He’s a nag,” Quinn said. “But you’re right.” He sat down at the counter and asked, “How long until food?”
“I gather you’re hungry?”
“Yep, we would cook, but we didn’t want to wake you,” he said.
“You could have, if you were hungry,” she said.
“We weren’t that hungry, and, besides, you do bacon better than I do,” Quinn said.
“It’s hard not to do bacon right,” she said. “It’s pretty damn easy actually.”
“It is,” they both said cheerfully.
“But we were working anyway,” Quinn said.
“Any progress?”
“Not sure,” Fallon said. “We’re tracking the art forum and all its members. A bunch came and went over the last few years.”
“Yeah, well, that makes sense,” she said. “Especially if some are disinterested or if some are special needs patients, like Keith.”
“They all seem to be photography buffs. A lot of them have uploaded their own photos, and they look very, … well, not all that different from these.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“I know,” Fallon said. “I’m kind of surprised too, but apparently it’s an art form, at least for this group.”
“Good,” she said. “Then it’s not sexualized?”
“No, it doesn’t appear to be.”
“Except for? Come on. What’s that I hear in your voice?”
“Well, the problem is,” he said, “we can’t necessarily prove that they don’t have an interest that goes deeper.”
“Of course not,” she said. As soon as the bacon was looking almost done, she started the eggs.
“I’ll have three,” Quinn said.
“Are you that hungry?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m starving.”
“Okay,” Fallon said, “I’ll have three too.”
By the time she had all the eggs on the plates, and they sat down to eat, she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help w
ith the research?”
“I think we got it,” Fallon said. “But, if there is, I’ll let you know.”
“Do that,” she said. “I don’t remember ever seeing any guy with pimples or acne, like my uncle was talking about though.”
“He said the guy was in the vehicle, so he wasn’t sure how involved he was in all of this anyway.”
“Maybe not at all. Maybe he was just a friend, along for the ride.”
“Well, that’s what we’re looking into,” he said. “We’re also trying to get the camera feeds from that warehouse area, to see who’s coming and going in and out of that darkroom where Ben developed his photos.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said, with a nod. “What about Ice? Can they help at all?”
“We sent what we had so far to them this morning,” Quinn said. “They’ll give us what help they can, though they’re all kinds of shorthanded at the moment.”
“Right,” she said, with a smile. “A new baby, who would have thought?”
“Not me,” Quinn said, “though it seems so strange to not have expected it. While now married, Ice and Levi have been together for a very long time.”
“I like that,” she said, with a smile. “It redeems my belief in humanity in a way, you know?”
“It’s the cycle of life, isn’t it?” Quinn said. She nodded and dug into her eggs a little more. When they were finally done, Quinn excused himself and said, “I’ll head off and see what that search came up with.”
“I’ll join you in a minute,” Fallon said, “as soon as I’m done eating.”
“No rush,” he said.
Quinn left them alone, and Fallon looked at her and asked, “Did you get any sleep?”
“Eventually,” she admitted. “But it was kind of hard. How ’bout you?”
“Like you, eventually I got some sleep,” he said, with a smile. “But it wasn’t that easy originally. I had a hot shower, and that helped.”
“Me too,” she said, with a smile. “I just felt kind of dirty after being in that warehouse.”
“Understood.” He finished his plate, pushed it back. She got up and refilled their coffee. They didn’t often get a chance for just the two of them to sit together. “When are you leaving?” he asked.
