by Bonnie Vanak
He sniffed the residue on his penknife. Oh yeah. The same distinctive bleach odor indicating a bomb.
West found a small cylinder. Whoever had done this was probably the bomber. He couldn’t be certain if the residue was fresh, not without lab tests. Maybe he’d rented the cabin in the past. And although Tia might have records of that transaction, the papers had been destroyed in the explosion. The computer had been blown apart.
With extreme care, West dug up the residue and deposited it into a plastic baggie. More evidence for the FBI lab.
Demi Colton could have used the cabin, and possibly made explosives here, down by the creek, washing her hands in the cold water to dispose of residue.
But Rex would have picked up the slightest bit of explosive residue in the cabin. He had not. The dog’s nose was so sensitive, Rex could discern a teaspoon of sugar placed into a swimming pool.
So why was Demi’s jacket in cabin seven?
Checking his cell phone, he saw a good signal. And Mike had left a voice mail.
He dialed her number.
As usual, his boss didn’t waste time. “DNA on the butterfly compact matched the hair sample you gave me of Quinn Colton. It’s definitely hers. We didn’t find any other DNA on it and the fingerprints were too smudged.”
Fingers tightened on the cell phone. He wanted to ask if she was certain, or if there had been a mistake. He knew better. DNA was conclusive.
Damn, the evidence was stacking against Quinn, placing her in the first bomb site. He closed his eyes, wishing he’d been wrong. But he’d known all along the compact was hers. She needed to regain her memory.
Maybe there was a legitimate reason she’d been at the first bomb site. Right. Quinn had been there delivering meals to her sister, the Groom Killer.
She’s innocent until proven guilty. There’s no proof of anything.
“Where are you?” Mike asked. “I called the station. They told me you took a few days off.”
“I’m out at Pine Paradise Cabins, the property Tia was selling.” He paused. “I went there with Quinn to trigger her memory since she stayed here last year. I found Demi’s jacket inside.”
West took a deep breath. Damn, this was hard, accusing his fiancée, but he had his duty. “The same jacket that had been in Quinn’s closet recently.”
“Which means either Quinn used it to visit the cabin herself, or Demi stole it back, or she gave her sister back the jacket. More than likely it’s the last,” Mike said in her dry voice.
“I’m near the creek with Rex. He alerted to explosive powder. Found remains of materials for a TATP bomb in a rock alcove. But no alerts on the cabin itself. Nothing.”
“So if Demi made the bomb, she could have washed herself clean of residue.”
West frowned. “I doubt it. Rex is too trained and sensitive. He would have found something in the cabin.”
“Has Quinn remembered anything?” Mike asked.
“Bits and pieces from childhood. Nothing concrete, except she did recall the unsub’s face before the building blew.”
“Huh.”
Not caring for that “Huh,” he paced. “Get to the point, Mike.”
“Odd that Quinn remembered the unsub and remembers nothing else. Mighty strange. Maybe that memory is one she made up, to throw you off, lead all you ganders on a wild-goose chase to throw off suspicion from Quinn’s sister.”
“That is the stupidest idea you’ve had in a long time, Mike. Did she let herself get blown up, too?”
“I’ll let that slide, West, because you’re stressed. But you’re not separating yourself from this case. You’re too close to the players and not thinking clearly. I sent you there to get friendly with the people in town, investigate Demi Colton’s relatives on the police force, and now you’re too involved.”
“Get off my back, Mike. I do my job.” He struggled with his temper. “They’re sending the evidence to our lab for analysis.”
“I’m coming there.”
West’s heart dropped to his stomach. Aw hell no. “Not a good idea. People will talk.”
“The way they’re now talking about you and Quinn Colton?”
He glanced around. “Who’s talking?”
“Everyone, West. I paid a little visit to Red Ridge a few days ago on my way back from Casper, hung out in Rusty’s bar...”
West felt his heart kick harder against his ribs. “Checking up on me? You should have given me a heads-up.”
“Why? So you would have a chance to pretend there was nothing between you two?”
“No, so I could have invited you over for dinner, had you and Quinn do your nails, let her hear from you how I’m here to secretly investigate her family. You know, girl talk.”
Silence on the other end. He didn’t give a damn. Everything had gone south since the day Quinn walked into Tia’s office. Each day he struggled between his personal feelings for Quinn and his dedication to getting the job done.
Seeing justice delivered.
Mike sighed. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, West. You’re too taciturn.”
“Not anymore. I’m a real chatterbox these days, Mike.”
“A chatterbox in bed? Pillow talk goes both ways, West.”
Good thing Mike wasn’t in the room, because he wanted to throttle her. Right now he was ready to climb through the phone. “I never bring home the job. And that’s not why I fell in love with Quinn Colton.”
There, he’d said it aloud. Why not? Best to clear the air with Mike. Level with her.
“I fell in love with her, but the job didn’t come between us. I haven’t told her why I’m really in Red Ridge because I’m not one hundred percent certain she doesn’t know where her sister is hiding. And now that we know her DNA was on the compact powder puff, and the compact was hers or she did use it, I need to grill her harder. But until she gets her damn memory back, that’s not possible!”
He told her about the attack on Quinn, and the reason for taking her to hide in the cabin.
“There’s a good chance being out here, where she came before, will trigger her memory.”
“You’d better hope she does remember soon. And not only because someone is after her, West. Because if Quinn Colton is hiding her sister, you need to find out. I know you care about her...but the job comes first.”
“The day I stop doing my job is the day I’ll personally hand you my shield, Mike.”
A heavy sigh came over the phone. “I know you, West. That’s why I stopped at the bar, to hear the town gossips to confirm what I already know. I study behavior for kicks and giggles, and you’re a classic case of ‘West Brand is clearly bonkers over a woman.’”
“I’m not bonkers. I love her—” he dragged in a deep breath “—but my head is clear.”
“Regardless, I’m coming there to see for myself.”
Nothing would deter Mike. Woman was like a hound dog. He told her and then hung up.
He made another call, informed Finn what he’d found. Minutes later, techs swarmed over the scene. West gripped Rex’s leash as he led the dog around the trail, but Rex found no other residue, except for a small spot near the creek.
The unsub had clearly washed off. He left the others to secure the scene and returned with Quinn to their cabin. They didn’t talk on the drive over. West was too busy mulling over troubling thoughts.
Was Demi firing her gun at someone? Was that the gunfire he’d heard?
An intruder? Or killing game to survive? Did Quinn aid her fugitive sister? Or was it the bomber?
Until Quinn retrieved her memory, they were clueless. But there was still the security footage at her apartment.
If Quinn had taken the jacket out to give to her sister, they’d have a digital record of it.
But as he pulled in front of the cabin, Quinn finally spoke. “Am I under arrest?”<
br />
West drew in a deep breath. “No. But I will tell you, it doesn’t look good for you.”
“What’s going to happen to me, West?”
He slid his palm over hers. “Nothing. Not for now. They’ll take the evidence to the lab, work it over. See what they find.”
Once inside, he worked on his laptop as Quinn cut photos from magazines for her vision board.
Was Quinn lying to him about Demi? Did she distrust him, wanted to throw him off Demi’s trail? What if she had returned the jacket to Demi—cold, alone and on the run? Somehow it had made its way into the cabin.
Yet the items he found didn’t paint a complete picture. If Demi had stayed there with her new baby, why were there only diapers and no other baby items? Unless she’d fled in a hurry and took everything with her.
After an hour, he closed his laptop. Quinn sat at the table, studying the board.
“Dr. Ross said to create a vision board of what little past I can remember. Why do I keep adding him?”
She pointed to the faces creating the collage on the poster board. West’s blood ran cold.
Each photo bore a strong resemblance to the same identifying characteristics as the man Quinn had described to the police sketch artist. All were scowling, angry. The therapist encouraged her to create a board linking her to the past.
Maybe Quinn’s subconscious couldn’t erase the dark-haired man. Or he had a greater significance, one she couldn’t yet place.
“What do you remember of him? Close your eyes and tell me.” Don’t push her. Don’t scare her.
“Smoke, thick, gagging. Nasty look to him, as if he wanted to hurt people. He scared me a little. I...had to get to Tia.”
“Why? Why did he scare you, Quinn? What was he doing to Tia that made you open that door to go inside, instead of turning and calling the police?”
“I—I don’t know!”
Scraps of paper littered the table. A small frown dented her brow as she opened her eyes. “West, what’s wrong with me? Will I ever get my life together?”
The whispered plea tore at him. “It will take time. You have to believe your memory will return, honey.”
The frown deepened. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t stress about it.”
“No. I mean, I didn’t know.” She pointed to the photos on the board. “I remember thinking that I’d seen him before, but couldn’t recall where. And then I opened the door and pow!”
West considered himself a good judge of character. He’d undergone behavioral analysis training at Quantico, knew how to watch a subject to see if the pulse jumped, the eyes darted, or stiffened, rubbed his eyes or nose.
He knew Quinn, at least he thought he did. Guile wasn’t in Quinn’s personality. She embraced honesty and directness.
“Quinn, do you know where Demi is? Have you been helping her hide?”
Her eyes widened. “No. I—I don’t think so. How could you even ask me that?”
“Because you said you wished to get closer to her. If she asked you to help her, would you? Or turn her over to the police?”
Quinn’s mouth wobbled precariously. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done before, West. Maybe. I don’t know how her jacket got in the cabin. All I know is I remember wanting to get closer to her, and failing. So what does that make me? A suspect?”
West’s heart jumped as his pragmatic side reeled in emotions. “I don’t know. That would be determined after you recover your memory.”
A wry smile touched her lips. “Sounds like a good reason not to fully recover.” Quinn sighed. “But I’ll face whatever I must. I don’t care. I only want to get better, West.”
He had no more answers than before.
A car lumbered up the roadway. Quinn frowned. “Does anyone know we’re here? Besides your friend?”
“Mike.” He felt his stomach lurch with hard anxiety. “Mike is my boss with the FBI.”
“Your boss. Mike is the one you were talking with in the hospital room when you thought I was asleep.”
Aw damn. West fisted his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me, West? What’s going on that you’re so secretive? I overheard you talking with someone named Mike about getting closer to me to find out what I know about my sister’s disappearance.”
Stomach knotting, he waited for her to finish. That damn phone call in the hospital...
Quinn dropped the scissors. “Did Mike tell you to check on me? Instruct you to get close, try to get information on my sister?”
Maybe it was time he leveled with her. Hell, a little, anyway. “Mike authorized my being on loan to the RRPD.”
“You said something about waiting for me to wake up and remember where Demi was.” She came closer, until she could see the darkness in his eyes. “I kept drifting in and out of sleep, but I know you didn’t intend for me to overhear that conversation.”
Her voice quavered. “I guess it’s a safe assumption I’m not the only Colton you’re investigating.”
Clever Quinn. Too smart.
Quinn kept twisting her hands on her lap. “I hate secrets. Not knowing. Keeping secrets from me isn’t the way to get me to fall for you, West. It won’t get me to open up, either.”
“Neither will hiding from the facts, Quinn.”
“I’m not hiding. I want to remember! But you have plenty to hide. You’ve been hiding from the moment you set foot in Red Ridge. Do you know what my brothers would do if they knew you were investigating them?”
His jaw tightened. “My job is to help catch the killer. This town needs help, Quinn. They need me. And Rex. You have a killer slaying grooms, and all weddings have ceased. There’s no joy, no future here. Until the unsub is caught, no one can feel safe. What if the unsub changes his methodology? Decides to begin killing brides? Or friends of brides?”
West looked outside as the car parked. “Until this person is caught, no one is truly safe.”
And until the bomber who killed Tia was caught, Quinn wasn’t safe, either.
Chapter 18
Quinn felt her world shattering as they went outside.
Mousy brown hair. Short. Thin, and horn-rimmed glasses. Didn’t bother to knock. The woman lounging on the porch rocker looked professional. Too sharp to be at home here in the outdoors, doing things West liked.
They went outside. Arms folded, Quinn stopped and locked gazes with him.
“Quinn, meet Mike. My boss. Mikayla. Mike, this is Quinn Colton.”
The owner of the cabin. The person ordering him to spy on Quinn.
Words failed her. Later, she’d talk with West, but for now, she was caught in a hard place.
West put a hand on the small of her back as he escorted her forward. Quinn gritted her teeth, controlling her wild impulse to march back into the cabin, pack her bag and leave.
Mouth dry, her heart aching, she watched the woman stand. Felt her quietly assess her, sum her up in a quick glance. Rex greeted the woman by pushing his nose into her outstretched hand.
Mike patted his head.
“Rex, go lie down.” West pointed to the porch.
Whatever else Mike was, she wasn’t stupid. A gleaming intelligence lurked behind those glasses. Quinn looked at Mike, then at the cabin. Something told her Mike disguised herself with the outfit and glasses, hiding her true self.
Quinn understood about hiding. Knew how it felt to be a woman struggling to make a stand in a world dominated by powerful men.
Mike nodded at Quinn. “Miss Colton. I’ve been curious to meet you.”
“Here I am. Anything you want to know? My favorite color? Favorite food? Where I’ve hidden my sister?”
The barest twitch of those thin lips. “Where your sister is hiding is much more interesting than talking about food. Do you know where sh
e is?”
Small talk. West’s boss was direct and blunt. In another life, they might have been friends.
Not now. Not with this huge sword of accusations and suspicions dangling over her head. Mike remained the enemy.
So did West, the man who’d professed to love her. Cherish her.
Reported to this Mike that he’d investigate her.
“If I did, why would I tell you?” Quinn challenged.
Mike’s gaze flicked to West. “Oh, I doubt you’d tell me, a stranger. But West here, you might have given him a clue, since it was his job to investigate you.”
West closed his eyes. Quinn’s heart dropped to her stomach. She’d known. But hearing the confirmation from this woman hurt deeply.
Who could she trust? Not these two, who wanted to find Demi, perhaps arrest her. And they’d do anything to achieve that.
“I don’t know.” Quinn’s gaze locked onto the woman. “I have no memory before the explosion. But I’m sure West already informed you. I’m sure he told you everything about me, since that’s the reason why he came to Red Ridge. He probably told you what kind of shampoo I use, what soap I prefer, as well. Everything personal about me.”
She lowered her voice. “Did you also order him to sleep with me?”
“Hold on a minute, Quinn,” West snapped.
Something sparked in Mike’s gaze. “No. I didn’t even know how close you’d become to him. In fact, he told me very little personal information about you. Only recently did I conclude you were lovers.”
Mike glanced backward at the cabin. “Though if I let myself inside, I’m sure I’d find evidence of that.”
“Breaking and entering?” Quinn asked sweetly. “Then why wait for us?”
Another twitch of Mike’s lips. “Not exactly B and E, since I do own the cabin.”
More shock. Quinn turned to West. “You said this cabin belonged to a good friend. So she’s the friend? What kind of relationship do you have with Mike? The same kind? What, do you have a lover in every city?”
West’s dark gaze snapped. “Mike’s my supervisor. A friend. Nothing more. The cabin was convenient, safe, and I knew you’d be protected.”
