Quinn’s first inclination at Uncle Leo’s gruff overprotectiveness was to laugh but there was an edge to Uncle Leo that told her laughing wouldn’t go over well.
“We’re working together,” she started but Leo cut her off.
“Feds don’t work with reporters. It’s like asking me to believe that a hungry bear just wants to be friends with the fish he just caught.”
“That’s a terrible analogy,” Quinn said, trying to smile but Leo wasn’t in the mood.
“I don’t know what’s come over you but since Silas Kelly returned to this town, you’ve changed and not for the better.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means you used to be sweet and now...you’re...just, for lack of a better word, a ball-buster and I don’t like it.”
Frankly, Quinn took his observation as a compliment, even though he hadn’t meant it that way.
“I told you, I have a job to do and I’m taking that job seriously. Silas is helping me as much as I help him. It’s a mutually satisfying arrangement.”
Her thighs still ached from being satisfied. Twice.
“I told Lester he ought to cut Silas loose and put his own detective on the case. This ought to be handled by a local anyway.”
Outrage on Silas’s behalf sharpened her voice, and she never spoke to her uncle like that but she was pissed that everyone seemed to think it was okay to tell her how to live her life. “Harrison Dex is an idiot. He couldn’t find his ass with both hands. If Lester put Harrison on the case, the investigation would go nowhere and Rhia’s killer would go free. Surely, you don’t want that, right?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “But Port Orion doesn’t need a Fed telling our deputies how to handle themselves in an investigation. It sends the message that we’re somehow incompetent and that’s a terrible thing to put on Lester when he’s worked so hard to be a good sheriff all these years.”
“Silas isn’t doing that,” Quinn retorted, baffled. “He’s following his own leads and handling everything himself, freeing up the deputies to do their usual jobs of keeping the peace around here. Honestly, Uncle Leo, where is this coming from? You do realize I’m not a teenager anymore, right? And I’m sure as hell not a virgin, either, so if you’re trying to protect my purity, that ship has long since sailed.”
Uncle Leo’s cheeks colored and he sputtered with embarrassment. “What’s come over you, Quinnie?”
She softened when she realized she’d taken it too far. For God’s sake, Uncle Leo couldn’t even buy her pads and tampons when she’d started her period so he’d asked Lester’s wife to do it for him.
“Uncle Leo, I love you but you have to stop trying to keep me a little girl. I grew up a long time ago. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not looking to have a relationship with Silas.”
“So you’re not seeing him?”
“No, not at all,” Quinn assured him. “We have an entirely platonic working relationship—” that often ends with wild monkey sex “—and that’s all there is to it.”
Leo lost some of his tension but he still looked like a nettled hen. “He’s too old for you anyway. I guess I just jumped to the worst conclusion.”
Quinn wanted to disagree that Silas was too old for her but that would only ignite her uncle’s suspicion all over again. She liked that Silas was older. There was something to be said for maturity between the sheets.
Boys were all about getting off; Silas was all about getting her off.
Her breath hitched as her mind wandered. Whoa...stay focused.
“You worry too much,” she said, patting her uncle on the cheek. “Nothing is happening between me and Silas.”
It was a small lie but a necessary one. Her uncle Leo would have a heart attack if he found out that she was knocking boots with Silas.
She had no interest in hurting her uncle, but she also had no intention of stopping what she was doing.
And that included Silas—every chance she could get.
* * *
Brock Teichert came in with his parents in tow. They were understandably nervous and defensive.
“My son didn’t hurt that girl,” the woman said immediately as they were led into the interrogation room.
Brock, a big kid, roped with lean muscle, seemed equally jittery. He had guilty hands, Silas noted. Unable to stop fidgeting, Brock lowered his hands to his lap. “How long is this going to take? I have practice.”
“I’m sure your coach will understand,” Silas said. “Please, take a seat. Now, how did you know Rhia Daniels?”
“We went to school together.”
“Was there anything more to your relationship aside from being schoolmates?” Silas asked, giving Brock the opportunity to come clean first.
“No. I barely knew her.”
Nope, the kid wanted to play dumb—probably an act for his parents’ benefit. Maybe the parents didn’t care for Rhia and made it difficult for Brock to date her.
“Are you sure about that?”
“My son answered the question,” the father said. “What’s this about?”
Silas held Brock’s stare until the boy’s gaze darted away. “Brock, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, casting a glance at the parents. “Now, let me tell you something... I’m really good at being able to spot a lie. It’s what I do. And right now you’re lying through your teeth. Just do yourself a favor and come clean. Whether you’re guilty or innocent...either way it’s going to come out in the wash so let’s just cut to the chase.”
“Leroy?” The wife looked to her husband, strain in her voice. “Should I call our lawyer?”
“Why would your son need a lawyer if he’s done nothing wrong?” Silas countered congenially. “We’re just talking right now, trying to get a few things straightened out.”
“I don’t like the way you’re talking to my son,” the wife said stiffly. “He’s a good boy.”
“I’m sure he is, which is why I want to get this part over with. It’s really just to rule out that Brock didn’t kill Rhia. One swipe of the cheek and you’re free to go but, I would think that if you were innocent, you would be happy to help in any way you could...especially since Rhia was your girlfriend.”
“She most certainly was not,” the wife said indignantly. She nudged Brock. “Tell him that you and that girl were not dating.”
“I’ve got a whole slew of witnesses that will say otherwise. Your son was seen with Rhia last weekend at a bonfire. Remember that, Brock?”
Leroy pulled a face, sensing that his son wasn’t being honest with them. “Spit it out, son. What’s he talking about?”
Brock looked to his dad, chewing his cheek. He went from defiant to resigned in a heartbeat. “Rhia and I had been dating for three months.”
“Three months!” the mom gasped at the shock. “What are you talking about?”
“You were being such a bitch about it that I didn’t figure you needed to know,” Brock said mulishly.
“You watch your language,” his mother said, wiping at angry tears. “I told you that girl was bad news. And now look at the trouble you’re in.”
“Stop, Mom. She’s dead for God’s sake,” Brock said, embarrassed. “Give her a break.”
“So why are we here?” Leroy asked, getting to the point. “Poor judgment in dating isn’t a crime.”
“No, you’re right.” Silas slid the court order across the desk. “This is a warrant for your son’s DNA. We need a sample to determine paternity.”
“P-paternity?” the woman gasped. “What?”
“Rhia was pregnant,” Silas told her. “About six weeks.”
Brock drew up with a start. “It wasn’t mine,” he protested. “We never even had sex!”
Silas expected the denials. He lifted the
cheek swab. “Then this will show you are not the father. Open, please.”
Brock allowed Silas to swab his cheek and then said, “Look, I don’t know who she was shacking up with but it sure as hell wasn’t me. That’s what we were fighting about at the bonfire. She wouldn’t give it up. Three months, man. For nothing. All I got was to second base.”
The mom closed her eyes, looking green around the gills. Granted, it had to be uncomfortable to listen to your kid talk about his sex life—or lack thereof—but Silas didn’t have the option of handling them with kid gloves, no matter how gentle Lester wanted him to be.
“Is that why you killed her?” Silas asked, deliberately provoking the kid. “She wouldn’t have sex with you?”
“I didn’t kill her!” Brock shouted, slamming his fists on the metal table, causing both parents to jump.
“Settle down!” Leroy barked then glowered at Silas. “Are you finished?”
“Seems you’ve got a temper,” Silas said, capping the swab. “Did you ever hit Rhia?”
“Don’t answer that,” his father growled. “Unless you’ve got reason to hold my son, we’re leaving.”
Silas nodded. “Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll be in touch.”
Brock walked stiffly from the room with his parents right behind him. Silas eyed the swab container, wondering if the DNA would come back that Brock was lying.
Or if Brock was telling the truth.
And if that was the case...who the hell had Rhia been sleeping with?
Chapter 17
Quinn chewed her nail, watching from behind the glass of the interrogation room.
Brock definitely seemed like a D-bag but was he a killer? Just going from first impressions, Quinn could put together a surface story.
Brock’s parents didn’t approve of Rhia and made it clear he wasn’t to date her but kids being kids, Brock dated her without their knowledge.
But if what Brock said was true—that he’d never actually slept with Rhia—was it possible Rhia had been using Brock as a cover for whom she was really seeing?
Why would a teenager hide who she was dating?
Unless it was someone she shouldn’t be seeing.
A teacher?
Rhia had been a pretty girl, popular. Easy enough to swivel a few heads.
But if it’d been a teacher, Britain would’ve known. That would’ve been something hard to hide from her best friend.
Quinn didn’t think her illicit boyfriend was at the school.
Maybe someone she’d met on the internet? Tinder?
The door opened and she expected to see Silas but it was Harrison.
She hid her disappointment and smiled instead.
Harrison was a pain in her ass—always pestering her for a date—and he was becoming downright pushy about it lately.
“Working on a hot story?” he asked, lounging against the door frame.
Quinn smiled, quipping, “Always,” and tried to maneuver around him but Harrison had more to say.
“I always knew you were thirsty but I never knew just how far you’d go to get what you wanted.”
“What does that mean?”
He gestured to the interrogation room. “You’re here with that Fed. Everyone’s seen you around with him. Acting like you’re some kind of team. Everyone knows reporters and Feds aren’t pals so that tells me you’re giving him something for his trouble. Hell, Red, if I’d known that’s the way you wanted to play, I could’ve given you what you wanted. I’ve got all kinds of good stuff I can give you, starting with nine inches of solid steel.”
Dream on. As if he was packing nine inches—five if he was lucky. Quinn met Harrison’s stare. “You know this is called harassment, right? Keep it up and I’ll have to report you.”
He laughed, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Down girl, just playing. Get a sense of humor, why don’t you.”
“I laugh when I hear something funny,” Quinn retorted, trying to push past him, but Harrison wouldn’t move. She glared up at him. “You’re in the way.”
Harrison bent down to whisper in her ear. “You know, someday you’re going to need a cop to save your pretty little ass and I’m not sure anyone will be available. Sure would be a shame if anything happened to that sweet face, wouldn’t it?”
Quinn fought the urge to step back and held her ground. “You’re a dick.”
“But I don’t have to be. Just say the word and I’ll be a gentleman. I’d be willing to do all sorts of things for you, sweetness.”
Quinn wanted to tell Harrison that she had zero respect for him as a person but only marginally less as a cop. He abused his position regularly and if he wasn’t related to a founding father of Port Orion, he would’ve been kicked out on his ass a long time ago.
But she couldn’t say that.
Not yet anyway.
“Get out of my way before I start screaming my head off,” Quinn said.
But quick as a snake, Harrison jerked her to him, pressing a hard kiss against her lips that made her want to vomit.
He released her and she nearly fell to her ass. She wiped her mouth, horrified. Before he removed himself, he said with a grin, “Someday you’re going to learn that you’re meant to be with me, Red. Someday.”
And then he left her there, shaking and feeling violated.
It was just a kiss, she tried to tell herself. But she couldn’t stop wiping at her lips because she could still feel the repulsive press of his mouth against hers.
The door reopened and this time it was Silas. “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately noticing her distress.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she lied, hating that her voice had a slight tremble to it. “Seriously, I’m fine. I just need some air.”
She bolted past Silas and left the station as quickly as her legs would carry her. Air. She just needed air.
But even as she gulped big lungfuls, she still couldn’t stop shaking.
She couldn’t tell if she was shaking because she was angry as hell or scared.
Harrison had never been so aggressive—more of an annoyance—but this time was different.
She was much smaller than he was and he’d used that against her. She’d been powerless to stop him.
And it’d happened so quick that she hadn’t had time to react.
Her hands were still shaking.
Just chill out. Focus. It was just a stupid kiss.
But tears were brimming to the surface.
And the minute Silas appeared, she wanted to run into his arms but she held back, needing to find solid ground before she involved Silas in something that wasn’t his problem.
“Sorry... I just needed—”
“Some air, yeah, that’s what you said. You’re pale,” he observed, regarding her intently. “How about telling me what’s really wrong instead of lying to me?”
Quinn opened her mouth to offer another denial but the words wouldn’t come. In fact, her mouth dried up and her throat tightened as more tears fell.
Silas guided her away from her car and straight to his. She didn’t question, just climbed in and buckled up. She didn’t care that people would whisper; all she wanted was to get away from Harrison.
Like, now.
Quinn had expected to return to Silas’s hotel but when he took a detour, she didn’t bother to question it.
After a short drive out of town, she realized they were heading down a private road. The forest flanked the road on both sides but soon she realized the road had curved back around, ending at a small cottage with private beach access.
Quinn looked to Silas. “Who owns this place?”
“Friends of the family. Marcia and Raymond Brown. It’s their vacation house during the summer but it’s all closed up for
winter. I knew no one would be here and no one would be watching over our shoulders.”
Quinn cast a grateful smile toward Silas for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks. I could use a minute to breathe.”
“Me, too,” he said, opening the door. “C’mon. Let’s go inside.”
Quinn followed Silas as he opened the small cottage. It smelled of dust and time, as if no one had been there in quite a while.
Silas made a fire in the stove while Quinn wandered the quaint house.
The worn hardwood creaked under her shoes, and the windows had that mottled glass look common to old-fashioned windows.
A small, hand-wound clock sat still, waiting for someone to wake it up with a gentle twist of the key.
Silas found a blanket and tucked it around Quinn then returned her to the sofa.
“What happened?” he asked, going straight to the point.
Quinn wanted to tell him even though she knew she shouldn’t.
Instead, she said, “It’s not your problem. I’ll deal with it.”
“You were shaking and pale as a ghost. You looked terrified. I haven’t known you long but something tells me you don’t scare easily. So, what the hell happened?”
Quinn swallowed, wishing she could just forget it happened. “I...it’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m so upset over it. Honestly, I just want to move on. It’s not a big deal.”
Silas’s lips seamed together. He knew she was lying through her teeth. But Quinn was embarrassed to have been so shook up by something so small.
Harrison had stolen a kiss. Big deal, right?
She forced a laugh. “Look at you, being my hero. That’s so sweet. But I don’t need a hero. I’m fine and I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?”
Silas sighed and took a seat next to her on the sofa. The crackle of the fire was soothing but Quinn couldn’t shake the queasy feeling in her gut.
“Let’s talk about the case,” she suggested. At least that would take her mind off Harrison’s blatant assault.
But Silas wasn’t so easily thrown off the scent. He reached over and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes briefly. How easy would it be to open her mouth and just tell Silas what had happened?
The Killer You Know Page 14
