Chapter Fourteen
Linc noticed right away that Quinn hadn’t slept very well last night. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there were lines of tension pulled taut around the corners of her mouth. The fact that she wouldn’t look him in the eye all but screamed that she believed he’d betrayed her.
They would have to sort out their issues of mistrust between them after Dean headed back to the station, but right now they needed to convince her that she needed round the clock surveillance.
“You had to refer to the unsub as a plague?” Linc asked, forgoing any niceties as he brushed past her. He could hear Dean greeting her as she closed the door behind them. “Quinn, warning your listeners about the fact the unsub has chosen another victim is completely different than purposefully baiting him.”
Quinn had followed them into the middle of her living room where she stood ramrod straight with her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a cream sweater with a cowl neck, but the soft material didn’t hide the faint hives on her neck that told him she was stressed over his choice to tell Dean about her past.
“My job is to warn my listeners when they’re in danger.” Quinn tilted her chin slightly in defiance. “I did that. Agent Malone, I’ll get you a copy of the latest message. I’m assuming that I’ll be reimbursed for all the USB drives that I’ve been supplying you at my expense.”
Linc didn’t miss the flash of irritation that crossed Dean’s features, but he hopefully had a new appreciation for what she’d been through over the years. He hadn’t taken the decision to bare Quinn’s life to those involved with the investigation lightly, but he’d also known that the others would see past the tragedy of Aaron Rockwell’s life.
Linc also might have pushed hard for all of them to accept that Quinn was the only one remaining from that night, and nothing could be proven to overturn the written report filed by Deputy Denney.
“I can make that happen, Miss Simmons,” Dean responded, purposefully defusing her need to engage in an argument. “Linc explained what happened to you back in high school. First, you have my condolences. There’s always something very special about one’s first love. You had to deal with a horrible loss very early on in your life, but I assure you that I have no interest in reopening an investigation when three of the four people are no longer here to give their own accounts of that night’s events. I’m here—we’re here—to ensure your safety.”
Quinn continued to stare at Dean as she contemplated his sincerity. Linc hated that she still refused to look directly at him, but he would explain his motives later. Right now, it was imperative that they get her to listen to reason. Her life was in danger, and she might very well have given the unsub an excuse to end their tenuous connection.
“Agent Roche and I discussed in detail my involvement in the case, and I stressed my belief that The Widow Taker was bluffing. The killer has no idea that Aaron and I had a fake wedding on those cliffs, or else he would have clarified his meaning.” Quinn dropped her arms and advanced toward them, walking around Dean to get to her desk. She sat in the seat and began to plug her phone into a cable linked to her computer. “I also have access to a national audience, which I’m sure was an additional factor in The Widow Taker’s desire to choose which reporter would help him get his messages out to the public.”
“You referred to the unsub as a plague on your broadcast,” Dean pointed out, having caught Linc’s gaze as if to say he needed some backup. Linc had a feeling that anything he said right now would be taken out of context. It was best he refrained from speaking. “He isn’t going to take that lying down, and I’d rather not take the chance that he was just bluffing when he threatened to reveal something about your past. I’d like to put a detail on you. I’m asking your permission.”
“Absolutely not.” Quinn had already plugged a USB drive into her computer. It didn’t take her long to copy the message. She had the process down pat. They’d all been in agreement since early on that she should keep her current cellphone, allowing them to trace every incoming and outgoing call she received on that line. “I don’t need a deputy following me around town when it would take another body off patrolling the streets. You need as many officers on duty in the area as possible.”
“No one is pulling anyone off the streets.” Linc didn’t care for the fact that Quinn was still ignoring him. Dean had all but assured her that Aaron’s death wasn’t going to be reopened. Gilda and Sam Rockwell never needed to know what really happened between their sons, yet Quinn still had her barriers firmly in place. Her ability to close him off at will got under his skin in a way no one else had been able to attain. “I’ll be staying here with you.”
“Excuse me?” Dean asked with shock, blindsided by Linc’s statement.
“What?” Quinn exclaimed, abruptly standing from her chair and causing it to roll backward against the far wall.
“Let’s all take a seat in the living room so that I can explain my reasoning.” Linc didn’t wait for either of them to deny his request. He sat in the same overstuffed chair that he’d used last night, allowing Quinn and Dean to slowly follow suit. She’d yanked out the USB drive from her computer, passing it to Dean before they both took a seat on the couch. The distance between them was laughable. “With me staying here, it means we’re not wasting overtime hours or taking away a body who could otherwise be chasing down leads or patrolling the streets. The hotline has been busier than ever since Pamala Griffith’s murder hit the front page. We have two extra deputies working to run down leads, with additional help from the state police.”
“You’ve done more than enough when you helped me install the doorbell camera last night,” Quinn pointed out, still determined to prove that she could handle things on her own. He truly believed she didn’t think she was in danger. That alone gave the unsub the upper hand. “I’ll spend the rest of the evening installing the security camera I bought to replace the floodlight on my back patio.”
Dean must have felt like a spectator as he gave Quinn a double take when she mentioned that Linc had helped her upgrade a bit of her security. He might have left out a thing or two about last night’s meeting.
Dean didn’t have room to make judgements, though. He was currently staying with Kenna Burke instead of either driving back to his apartment in New Haven or renting a hotel room on the nights when the days got to be too long.
“Quinn, we talked at length about the profile on the unsub. He doesn’t believe that what he does to those women is cold-blooded murder. This perp has himself convinced that he’s saving widows from their grief.” Linc needed her to understand that today’s broadcast could have pushed the unsub outside of the fantasy he’d created. “You referred to him as an evil affliction upon this town. Your words will undoubtedly cause a rage inside of him that he’s been able to control thus far. When that happens, he’ll convince himself that killing you is essential to continuing his work.”
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, the way he did when frustration set in. In this case, it was in annoyance due to the fact that Linc was right about the situation. Quinn had basically thrown herself into the ocean, cut herself wide open, and allowed the scent of her blood to seep into the water while a massive great white shark took notice and began his relentless hunt.
“Linc has a point,” Dean said in agreement, shifting on the couch slightly so that he could speak to Quinn one on one. “The unsub will rationalize his decision by convincing himself that you’re still grieving over Aaron.”
“We still have no idea if The Widow Taker knows anything about Aaron. His name was never mentioned, and neither was what happened that night,” Quinn pointed out, a bit of hope still remaining in her tone. He was going to have to be the one to take it away. “The—”
“Quinn, Nick told Todd what happened on the night Aaron died,” Linc replied softly, interrupting what he knew would be complete denial. It was time for her to face the facts. “I’m sorry, but your secret did not die with Nick and Lisa. God on
ly knows how many others he might have taken into his confidence before he died.”
Quinn slowly pursed her lips together and exhaled while the color gradually drained from her face. This was the moment where he needed her to understand why it was so imperative that he be the one to safeguard her from harm.
“Todd Acker swears that he didn’t tell anyone, but we can’t rely on his word alone. We have to assume that at some point throughout the years, this secret grew like branches on a tree.” Linc leaned forward, ensuring that her gaze focused on him. “It was also discovered this morning that there is a very good chance the unsub is choosing his victims from the pub. It’s no secret that I’ve been having lunch there every weekday. Anyone watching you closely enough would have noticed my presence, so it’s not a leap to think we’ve gotten close during the investigation. The profile suggests the unsub doesn’t harm widows whom he believes have moved on from their grief. My being the one tasked with your safety is the obvious choice.”
“I’m not a widow,” Quinn exclaimed with exasperation, standing up from the couch and walking around the coffee table to the fireplace. She flipped the switch, causing the flames to burst to life before turning back around. “Let me get this straight. You want to pose as my love interest in hopes that The Widow Taker will grow some type of conscience and not murder me in my sleep.”
“I think we can all reasonably agree that the unsub has taken an interest in you,” Dean responded, apparently on board with Linc’s proposition. “The underlying goal is to protect you. Linc is the best at what he does, and if he believes the idea that the two of you as a couple will deter the unsub from escalating…well, I’m inclined to agree.”
Quinn half-turned back toward the fireplace, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her jeans while she mulled over the plan laid out before her. Her reluctance was crystal clear, but Linc was betting that her rationale would win out over the displeasure of having him underfoot for an indefinite period of time.
As if to push her into a decision, a chime came from her phone still somewhere on her desk. Quinn met his stare, accepting that the message could very well be from the unsub. Had he been listening to her podcast, his anger might already be getting away from him.
“Fine.” Quinn nodded toward both of them abruptly. “Linc can be the one to watch over me, but it’s not like we can stay huddled inside. We’ll need to be seen in public, especially at the pub. Does this mean that you still think Bright has something to do with the case?”
“We’re not ruling anyone out,” Dean said with a frown, sharing a look with Linc that spoke volumes. “Miss Simmons, we expect discretion when it comes to your reporting certain details to your readers and listeners. Anything you happen to overhear is not to be communicated through the paper or over the airwaves without our specific approval.”
“I’ll only agree to a certain amount of vetting, and only in reference to conversations we have. Any information that I receive from my independent sources is still fair game,” Quinn negotiated, rightfully protecting her job. Linc admired her tenacity. There was no telling how long they would have to keep up the charade of being together. That type of timeframe could really do a number on her job. “Agreed?”
“I think we can agree to that,” Dean replied, having waited for Linc to nod in agreement before answering. “I’ll let the two of you work out the arrangement. Linc, keep in regular contact with me. I’ll fill in Chaz and the rest of the team. Miss Simmons, do you have any concerns you’d like to address before I head back to the station?”
If Linc hadn’t maintained his focus on Quinn, he would have missed the slight flush that tinged her cheeks. Dean had stood from the couch and was putting on his gloves, but Linc knew his friend well enough to know he’d caught the tell, as well.
Maybe Linc hadn’t given this enough thought.
He’d been focused on her safety, and now his decisions had him tempting fate. He’d all but given Dean the green light to get involved with Kenna, but that had been a completely different situation.
For one thing, Kenna hadn’t really been tied to the investigation. The only reason Dean had met her was due to the fact that she was a widow and the task force assembled had chosen her name as a possible victim out of a large group of potential targets.
Of course, that had been before Linc had redefined the profile to exclude any widow who had developed an intimate relationship with another person. He would do well to remember that was the reason he extended this idea to them in the first place.
At least, that had been his initial belief.
“I’m sure that Agent Roche and I can set up the ground rules on our own,” Quinn replied with a tight smile, finally answering Dean’s question. “I would like to know if any DNA samples were discovered at the first three crime scenes.”
“Off the record,” Dean stressed, sharing a look with Linc that all but directed him to make sure his request was met. “We have DNA samples, but there was no match in any known system. There’s absolutely no doubt that the same unsub is responsible for all the murders of those widows.”
“There was no other DNA at the scenes?” Quinn asked, continuing her relentless hunt for the truth. “Has there been any indication of a second suspect?”
Linc and Dean were both somewhat taken aback by Quinn’s suggestion that there might be a second unsub. There was no sign or evidence at the scenes nor in the profile that would lean in that direction.
What had happened that would make her assume otherwise?
“No,” Dean replied concisely, already aware that Linc would squash any suggestion of such a thing from hitting the airwaves. It was bad enough that the widows of Winter Heights were in fear for their lives from one male unsub, let alone adding another to the mix. “There is only one unsub. On that note, I need to get back to the station.”
Quinn saw Dean out the front door, exchanging goodbyes before taking her time and returning to her place in front of the fireplace. He remained in the overstuffed chair, forcing himself not to push the conversation. There were several things that he wanted to follow up on, such as who Todd Acker could have told Nick’s secret to throughout the years. His claim that he didn’t wasn’t believable in the least. More importantly, why would Quinn believe that there was a possibility of a second unsub?
“Bright sat down with me at the pub today, asking if I’d do some advertising for him on my podcast,” Quinn said, taking the tactic of ignoring his idea that they pose as a couple to ensure her safety. He’d let it slide for now, but they would eventually need those guidelines that she mentioned earlier. “Oddly enough, he brought up Aaron. The discussion eventually led to Nick and his funeral, but the entire conversation felt out of place, disjointed in some strange way.”
Linc figured out why she had gone the route of two possible unsubs, but she was way off base. There was only one, and that was how they would work the case until the evidence proved otherwise.
“Daryll Brighton had nothing to do with the murders of those widows,” Linc responded with certainty.
“You don’t understand,” Quinn said in frustration, walking over to her desk and rummaging through some of the papers. Surprisingly, she came up with one of those large desk calendars that she’d used to draw a family tree of sorts. The one she created all began with two seeds—Nick and Lisa. On the branches were basically leaves with numerous names written in circles. “Bright was really close with Nick when they were young. You said yourself that Nick might have broken our promise and told someone else. What if Bright actually knows that Aaron and I had a fake wedding on the cliffs that night?”
Linc took the large pad from her hands, wishing that she’d given this to him last night. There were names on here that he didn’t recognize, as well as connections between the people listed that he hadn’t even known existed.
She made one hell of an investigative journalist.
“Quinn, is this Brandon Harper?” Linc asked, sitting forward on the cushion so tha
t he could get a better hold of the large pad. “The man who works at the pub?”
“Yes.” Quinn leaned down and pointed at the name over his shoulder. “I don’t know him all that well. He’s a couple years younger than me, but he’s on the list because he used to date Lisa’s younger sister in high school. And before you ask, Lisa never told Audrey about what happened that night.”
“I need my laptop,” Linc muttered more to himself than Quinn. He’d left it at the station, not knowing what today had been going to bring. He tapped the name Harper, having seen it before in the file of one of the suspects. “If I remember correctly, Harper is the maiden name of Benjamin Henry’s mother.”
Quinn knelt beside his chair as the significance of what he was saying sunk in. Even in towns like Winter Heights, the correlation between families sometimes weren’t well-known by the younger generations. Linc still didn’t believe that Benjamin Henry was their unsub, but he couldn’t ignore this new lead.
“Grab your bag, Quinn,” Linc directed, handing her back the diagram she’d created from memory. He would study it more later, but it was imperative they head to the station. “We have a long evening in front of us.”
Chapter Fifteen
Eating dinner at the pub was not exactly what she thought Linc had in mind when he said that they had a long evening in front of them. She’d pictured hours spent researching the connection between Todd and Benjamin Henry. In an odd way, she’d been looking forward to immersing herself in something else besides the fact that Linc would be staying in her home tonight. Instead, he had simply informed Agent Malone and the others of what they’d discovered before casually suggesting they grab dinner at the pub.
“Here you go.” Two bottles of beer were set in front of them by a waitress who Quinn recognized from around town. According to her nametag, her name was Marcie. “I placed your order in with the kitchen. Let me know if you need anything else before then.”
The Isolated Widow (The Widow Taker Book 2) Page 13
