The Killer You Know

by Kimberly Van Meter

  He’d wanted to move, too, but his parents had felt it important for him to finish high school in Port Orion, a closing of a chapter.

  Silas hadn’t agreed. He’d been ready to bail the moment his brothers had announced they were going away for college.

  His parents’ marriage was already falling apart, being held together by duct tape and financial commitments. Silas hadn’t seen the point of dragging out the inevitable.

  But then Lester got a hold of him. Showed him how to channel his grief into something constructive.

  So that he could get through his high school years without committing a felony.

  Otherwise... Silas didn’t know where he’d be at today.

  “I know you said you’re not interested in working together and I respect your decision. However, I’m not going to stop looking on my own.”

  “This case is dangerous,” Silas warned, not liking the idea of Quinn going off on her own, poking around without any clue as to how she might be putting herself at risk. “Why are you so determined to put yourself in harm’s way?”

  “I’m not, but I am determined to see this through. You have to understand...no one takes me serious here. Not even my closest friend and my only living relative. Until I get out of Port Orion, I’ll always be that kid with impossibly big dreams and no sense of reality. I’m more than that and I’m going to prove it.”

  Silas could respect her position. Hell, he knew the frustration of being crammed into someone else’s perception. He couldn’t fault her for aggressively going after what she needed to excel.

  He grudgingly found her grit compelling.

  “You realize that breaking open this case will blow apart lives,” he told her. “No matter what, when this ends, Port Orion will never be the same.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

  He regarded her intently. “You sure about that?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  He chuckled at her steadfast answer. “True enough, but are you ready for what might shake out? It might not be pretty.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a slow nod and he believed her. Quinn wasn’t backing down. “So...are you going to work with me or not?”

  Silas’s position hadn’t changed but there was a subtle shift in his opinion about Quinn. He didn’t want her poking around and putting herself in unnecessary danger but then he didn’t want to handfeed the press juicy tidbits about the case, either.

  “You put me in a difficult position,” he said.

  “That’s life, right?”

  He appraised her openly. “Where was this woman when we first met?”

  “I’ll be honest, I use my charm to get my way. When I realized you don’t respond to charm, I went with brutal honesty. If I’m reading you right...that was a good call.”

  Silas smiled. “You’re good at reading people.” A skill that could be honed with the right training. “All right, here’s the deal—you can tag along, but before you publish anything, I need to see what you’re writing first.”

  Quinn laughed as if his request was absurd. “Would you ask a New York Times reporter to do that? And the answer is no. You’ll have to trust that I won’t release sensitive information.”

  Trust a reporter? “You might as well ask me to rope the moon. I don’t trust any reporter.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because reporters, in my experience, don’t give a shit about anything but their story.”

  “Not all reporters are like that.”

  “But most are.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree. But even if that’s the case, I’m not asking you to trust all the reporters in the world... I’m asking you to trust me.”

  “I don’t know you. Why should I trust you?”

  “Because like me, I suspect you’re a good judge of character and you can read people. Look me in the eye and tell me whether or not I’m a trustworthy person.”

  Silas didn’t want to stare into her eyes. He was afraid of what else he’d feel. Quinn was quickly getting under his skin and the sensation wasn’t entirely unwelcome, but it was certainly ill-advised.

  But she made a good point. He was painting with a wide brush.

  “The reporter who wrote about Spencer’s case...she revealed information that collapsed the case. Any chance investigators might’ve had to catch who had killed my brother was destroyed.”

  “How so? I’ve read the archived articles. The stories were pretty bland.”

  “It wasn’t in the official newspaper. At the time the reporter had a personal blog. She inserted her opinions on what had happened, but revealed sensitive case information to bolster her claims.”

  “That’s unprofessional,” Quinn murmured with disappointment. “I can see how you would hate reporters after that.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t easy to deal with. But honestly, from my experience reporters are usually cut from the same cloth. They all trample over whoever they need to to get the story.”

  “That’s not exactly true, but if that’s all you’ve been exposed to, then I guess in your world, it is true.”

  It was a surprisingly mature statement from one so young. He wasn’t ready to hand her the keys to the castle, but he realized that he might’ve judged quickly and harshly.

  “Do you have any insight as to who might’ve gotten Rhia Daniels pregnant?” he asked.

  “I don’t. But I aim to find out.”

  “And by that statement, you’re implying with or without my help,” he said, to which Quinn nodded. He exhaled a short breath, impressed by her chutzpah even if it did put him in a difficult spot. “All right. We’ll do this on a trial basis, only because I don’t want you getting yourself into a mess. Whoever did this...they aren’t going to welcome the two of us poking around.”

  “Fair enough,” Quinn said with a bright grin that smacked of victory. “Let’s head back to your hotel. We need a game plan.”

  Silas knew better than to agree to that plan.

  Strange things were afoot. Had he just agreed to work with a reporter? And now he was contemplating letting her into his hotel room to discuss confidential materials?

  Best to decline.

  Be smart.

  But for reasons he chose not to examine...he ignored his better judgment, grabbed his jacket and said, “Let’s get out of here, then.”

  * * *

  Quinn felt giddy. Getting Silas to agree to work with her was a huge win and even though she tried to keep her joy under wraps, it seeped out in the form of a silly smile.

  Silas opened his hotel room and flicked the lights as he removed his jacket. “Are you going to smile at me all night like that? It’s distracting.”

  Quinn pressed her lips together but then decided against smothering her smile. “Deal with it. It’s not every day I managed to convince a hardened FBI agent to listen to reason.”

  He surprised her with a laugh. “Hardened? I wouldn’t say I’m hardened.”

  “No? Well, you do a pretty fair impression.”

  “Just because I don’t try charming information out of people doesn’t mean I’m not a nice person.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to imply that you’re not nice. You’re just...stoic. That’s the word I would use to describe you. Everything about you is hard and unyielding. Like a giant oak tree.”

  “A tree.”

  “Yeah. But that’s not a bad thing. Trees are strong. I like that about you.”

  It was a small admission but it seemed to suck the air from the room. She swallowed and risked a nervous laugh to dispel the sudden tension. “Anyway...so should we talk about the case?”

  Silas seemed slow to respond but when he did, he shook his head as if clearing cobwebs. “Yeah, the case.” He gesture
d to the small table and they both took seats opposite each other but because the table was short on real estate, they were practically in each other’s bubble.

  As in...she could smell his skin beneath his T-shirt, could see the dark hairs along his forearm, which made her wonder...was his chest full of dark, wiry hair or was it smooth as a baby’s behind?

  Quinn’s breath shortened and she pulled back to put some space between them.

  “Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking...we need to talk to Rhia’s friends. Teenagers rarely tell their parents anything that’s going on and given how conservative Rhia’s parents are, it’s a safe bet that they didn’t have a clue as to who their daughter really was. That leaves the friends and frenemies.”

  “Frenemies?”

  “Oh yeah, people who are surface friends but behind your back they talk shit about you.”

  “Why would anyone want a frenemy?” Silas asked, perplexed.

  Quinn shrugged. “Women are complex. But I will say, we will probably get better intel from the frenemy than the actual friends because the friends will try to protect whatever secrets Rhia was hiding.”

  “I have to talk to the parents tomorrow morning. Give them the news about Rhia’s pregnancy. Chances are they were clueless but sometimes parents know more than they let on.”

  “Okay, you talk to the parents. I’ll find the friends and frenemies. We’ll report back here to share our findings.”

  “And what will you do with that information?” he asked.

  “That’s for me to decide.”

  “I’m not comfortable with this.”

  She thought to reassure him but when she impulsively placed her hand on his, the electricity that snapped between them had her jerk away as if she’d been scalded.

  “I’m sorry... I’m a touchy-feely person,” Quinn mumbled, biting her lip, embarrassed by her reaction. “I didn’t mean to invade your space.”

  She expected him to shrug it off so they could move away from the awkward exchange but when he simply said, “I wasn’t complaining,” her pulse jumped a little.

  The tension between them was growing by the second. She was aware of his body in ways that engulfed her ability to stay focused.

  Quinn searched desperately for something to put her back on track before she did something incredibly stupid such as close the short distance between them and kiss the man.

  “Maybe we could find Sara Westfall and ask her some questions about her theories on your brother’s case,” she suggested.

  But Silas shut that idea down quickly. “She died six months after Spencer.”

  “What?”

  “It was a freak accident. She was driving late one night, overcorrected on a turn, hit the guardrail and went over the side. She was killed instantly.”

  “That’s crazy. What bad luck,” Quinn said, thinking. Something about that tidbit of info sat wrong. “You don’t think it’s a little suspicious that the reporter who was writing independently about Spencer’s murder conveniently died a few months later?”

  “Coincidence, probably.”

  “Or...what if it wasn’t?”

  “Your little mind is full of conspiracy theories, isn’t it?” he teased, but Quinn could tell his mind was working all the angles just as quickly as her own. “Let’s just say for argument’s sake, Sara Westfall had inadvertently stumbled on something...it would be in her blog. But that was years ago. Likely the blog has been taken down by now.”

  “Right. But nothing is truly gone on the internet. However, let’s go the easiest route first. Talk to her family. Maybe they still have the original computer and if that’s the case...all it’ll take is some forensic computer work to recover the files.”

  “And do you know someone who could recover files? Because if I send a computer back to the Bureau for analysis, it’ll take weeks before we get an answer.”

  “Actually, I can do it myself. Amateur hacking was a hobby of mine until I discovered the bug for writing. So be thankful I didn’t go the criminal route because I was pretty good.”

  Silas laughed. “You constantly shock me. Next are you going to tell me you’re secretly part of a hush-hush government group that flies under the radar looking for aliens?”

  “Please. Like I would work for the government.”

  Laughing with Silas came easily. He enjoyed her dry wit and she got a tickle each time he dropped his guard a little further.

  Silas was the challenge she’d been craving but Quinn knew better than to cross the line.

  Even as much as she wanted to.

  “Are you single?” Quinn asked abruptly. She hadn’t meant to go there but the words had jumped from her mouth and now it was too late to reel them back.

  “Yes.”

  I knew it! Score one for female intuition. Now for the bigger question...

  “Why?”

  Silas leaned forward. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I’m attracted to you,” she answered bluntly. Why lie? He seemed to appreciate her honesty thus far. “And I don’t mess around with people in relationships.”

  “Very single,” he said, his gaze drifting to her parted lips. “And not looking to be in a relationship.”

  “Good. Neither am I.” And then she threw caution to the wind and kissed him.

  Because life was short and Johnna was right—Silas was hot.

  Chapter 11

  Bells and whistles warned him to pull away, to put some distance between his lips and Quinn’s but damn, it would’ve taken more strength than he possessed at the moment to make that happen.

  Kissing Quinn was like being zapped with a million tiny electrical impulses at once. His heart raced and his hands itched to slide up her arms to cup her face.

  But he broke the kiss, drawing away with Herculean effort. Both their breaths were shallow; Quinn’s pupils were dilated with desire, which probably mirrored his own but he couldn’t let something as ephemeral as lust to get in the way.

  “Quinn...”

  “No, good call,” she agreed breathlessly as she stood. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Feel free to forget this ever happened. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She was running away from her embarrassment. Silas caught Quinn before she opened the door and pulled her close. “It’s not because I’m not interested,” he clarified in a low tone, fighting the urge to explore every inch of that strong, vibrant body. “It’s because this case is too important to screw up with rookie mistakes.”

  “Is it because I’m younger than you?” Quinn asked, her tone vulnerable.

  “In the beginning...yes. But not now. Hell, Quinn, it’s taking everything in me to be the better person and let you walk out that door without my hands all over your body. Does that sound like someone who isn’t interested?”

  Quinn worried her bottom lip with her teeth, her tongue darting. Silas suppressed a groan as his pants tightened.

  “Everything about you excites me,” she admitted. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met and it turns me on. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know it’s not a good idea to mess around with you but you have no idea what it’s like to be in a town where no one walks to the same beat as you. I sense we hear the same drum and that’s hard to ignore.”

  “Do you always say what you mean?”

  “With the right people.”

  He allowed a smile. “I like that.”

  “Good.”

  Silas’s hands found her rounded ass. Pert and firm, he squeezed and drew her against his erection so she would suffer no doubt as to how much she turned him on, too.

  “And what if I told you we both know this is a bad idea?”

  “You think I can’t be professional if we sleep together?” she parried, angling her head to give him bette
r access to her pouting lips. “What if it’s just about scratching an itch?”

  “No-strings-attached sex?” he murmured, traveling along the column of her neck with tiny nips and kisses, causing her to shiver in his arms. “Are you capable of separating the physical from the emotional?”

  Quinn gave a throaty laugh. “What makes you think I’ll be the one with the problem? I should probably warn you...my lovers rarely tire of me first.”

  Ohhhh, a challenge he couldn’t resist.

  Silas kissed her hard, lifting her onto her toes, grinding the hard shaft in his jeans against her. Quinn clung to him, hopping into his arms to wrap her legs around his waist.

  He dropped her to the bed and started to strip. The hungry light in her eyes as she unabashedly enjoyed the show was intensely sexy.

  When he stepped out of his underwear, Quinn’s gaze widened with open appreciation, which only made him swell harder.

  Quinn shimmied out of her jeans and within seconds, they were both naked, skin against skin, forgetting about all the reasons why it was a bad idea to throw sex in the mix.

  Silas sheathed himself in a condom—he never took chances—and Quinn took over from there, riding him with a skill that came from knowing how she liked to be touched.

  Sweat beaded his brow as he neared his climax, even as he tried to hold back. But Quinn was merciless in her pursuit of her own pleasure. She was a wild thing, her moans filling the small room as she writhed against him.

  Good God. Silas grit his teeth as he began to shake, the need to explode more than he could hold back.

  But Quinn found her release as she stiffened, releasing her pent-up breath in a long exhale as she slumped forward over his chest, his name a sultry cry on her lips as she jerked with each wave of pleasure.

  Silas gripped her hips and pumped hard into her clenching core, finding his own release in a wild explosion that stole his breath and stopped his heart for a brief moment.

  He gasped as his pulse thundered, blood rushing to his ears.

  Quinn slowly sat up, his shaft still firmly embedded in her hot folds, and smiled like a sated cat. “That itch has definitely been scratched,” she said with a contented sigh.