The Killer You Know

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Quinn shifted in bed, smiling faintly at the subtle ache between her thighs, reminding her of where Silas had been a few short hours ago, and she knew with resigned certainty that things had changed between her and Silas.

  Changed in a way that would make it difficult to say goodbye when the time came.

  They’d both been very clear that this was a no-strings-attached setup.

  Watching Silas leave town, knowing she wasn’t going to see him again, well, it set off a strange yearning that she wasn’t ready to put a name to.

  Maybe it was just the sex, she reasoned. The man could rock a bed.

  True, great sex could bind two people temporarily but it would never last because you needed more than epic sex to make a relationship work.

  Quinn groaned and kicked the bedsheets away. So much for sleep.

  She grabbed her laptop and powered up. Searching for “Sara Westfall + Port Orion,” she perused the links that popped up.

  She sorted through pages of useless or irrelevant links and then found a partially cached page of Sara’s defunct blog, Port Orion Intrigue.

  Everyone knows the corruption in Port Orion is legion but I’m not supposed to write about that. The secrets in this town could choke a horse. Do you know your neighbor? Do you know what he does at night when no one is watching? Sometimes to catch a monster you have to pretend to look the other way so you can gather the tools you need to win.

  Quinn frowned with surprise. Sara had some strong opinions. She never named names, only used initials. Who was she talking about?

  Did Little S find out something that X didn’t want anyone to know?

  Little S. That could stand for Spencer. Or it could mean someone else. There was no making sense of what Sara had written.

  Frustration ate at Quinn. More ghost leads. What if Sara was a delusional alcoholic like Mick implied?

  What if Sara had truly been trying to bring someone to justice?

  Who the hell was X?

  Quinn chewed her bottom lip. Corruption. Could it be... Sheriff Mankins? No. That wasn’t possible. Lester was the sweetest man she’d ever known.

  But whomever Sara was referencing was good at pretending.

  What if the most dangerous person in Port Orion...was the one in charge of protecting it?

  * * *

  Silas stepped out of the shower to find Quinn at his hotel room door. Tucking the towel around his hips, he opened the door and she strode in, pausing only briefly to appreciate the view and then immediately started jabbering.

  “I found a cached page of Sara’s blog. The information was confusing at best but I wanted to tell you right away. Something about it feels important. I know Mick implied that Sara was an alcoholic and maybe she was, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t onto something.”

  “What did it say?”

  “She only used initials ‘X’ and ‘S’ and it’s easy to assume that ‘S’ means Spencer but I haven’t a clue who ‘X’ could be. We need to talk to Sara’s family and see if they had any idea what she was working on when she died. Also, I want to pull up the accident report and see if there’s anything about her blood alcohol content. What if she wasn’t drinking when she died, but someone made it look as if she were because they knew about her addiction? Seems an easy way to set someone up, don’t you think?”

  He loved how Quinn’s mind worked even if she had a penchant for jumping to the most fantastic conclusion. “We’ll follow up,” he agreed. “Sounds worth a second look. But try not to get your hopes up prematurely. One thing I’ve learned in this job is that sometimes false leads seem more plausible the more you want a case solved.”

  “My gut says there’s something there. Sara talked about ‘corruption’ a lot. Was she referencing politics? Law enforcement? Or was she just rambling after too many beers? I don’t know but my Spidey-senses are tingling and I can barely see straight.”

  “Let me get dressed and we’ll check it out.”

  Quinn nodded, distracted by her own thoughts. She tapped her finger lightly against her bottom lip, something he’d noticed she did when she was trying to piece through a puzzle in her mind.

  “You know, at first I thought Sara was referencing Lester but honestly, that’s just ridiculous. I’ve known Lester my whole life and he’s the sweetest man on the planet.”

  “Let’s see where the lead takes us,” he suggested, mildly troubled by the thought, as well. Lester had saved him when no one else had been able to get through to him. In a way, he owed Lester everything. The remote possibility that Lester was involved...it turned his stomach but he’d follow any lead.

  Dressed and ready, they made a game plan.

  “I’ll come with you to the station to pull the accident report,” Silas said, but Quinn shut him down. Frowning, he asked, “Why not?”

  “I don’t need people talking about how we’re buddies. Besides, it’s a waste of your time to follow me around when you can chase other leads. We need to be efficient about this.”

  What she said was true but he didn’t like her going to the station without him because of that grabby-hands detective. Of course, he knew if he said that, Quinn would pitch a fit so he kept that comment to himself.

  Instead, he nodded and said, “Fine. I’ll track down Sara’s remaining family and see if I can secure a time to talk. In the meantime—” he pulled her to him, leaving her with one firm demand because it was nonnegotiable “—you will promise me that if that asshole tries anything while you are there, you will knee him in the balls and then report his ass, got it?”

  Quinn bit her lip and nodded.

  Satisfied, Silas brushed a kiss across her lips. “I mean it, Quinn,” he murmured. “If he touches you again, I’ll handle the situation for good.”

  She shivered a little in his arms but he knew it wasn’t from fear. Her pupils dilated and her breath became short. His little hellcat liked a firm hand when it mattered. “You’re so bossy,” she said with a tiny smile that instantly sent a triple shot of lust straight to his groin. “But okay.”

  Silas smothered the urge to bend her over the bed for a quickie but it took an act of immense strength to release her from his arms.

  Work now; play later.

  Quinn grabbed her purse and left, giving Silas an excellent view of her perfect backside as she went.

  He was fairly certain he could bounce a quarter off those pert cheeks.

  His own breath felt trapped in his chest.

  Get your mind off the girl, Silas.

  Silas shook off the lingering hunger and pulled his focus where it belonged.

  Time to use the FBI resources to track down Sara’s family.

  If anyone knew what the real Sara was like...hopefully, they were still around to share her story.

  * * *

  Leo stepped into his dark room and closed the door. Change was inevitable but Leo preferred the comfort of routine. He knew when he walked into his dark room exactly what was expected of him.

  He’d always groused that there was no sense of artistry in digital manipulation, not like processing a photo with your bare hands, watching as it emerged like a newborn from the solution.

  He was responsible for the outcome, the final product.

  There was security in that knowledge because Leo knew photography.

  Unlike other things in life that weren’t so certain.

  Port Orion was becoming a different place. People he didn’t recognize passing by his storefront without looking twice, preferring the immediacy of digital over the artistry of film.

  But Quinn was always accusing him of holding on to the past, teasing him about his archaic cell phone that neither texted nor did any of that fancy do-dah that he could do without.

  There was value in disconnecting.

 
He closed his eyes and breathed deep the familiar scent of chemicals, letting the smell calm him.

  This business with Rhia Daniels had upset the entire town.

  This town didn’t know Rhia.

  Manipulative, cruel little bitch.

  But he couldn’t say that without putting a target on his back.

  Rhia was a sweetheart, pretty as a picture and everyone’s darling.

  The corners of his lips turned down. Imagine the shock if he shared how Rhia had extorted him.

  But that would open up too many questions.

  Questions he wasn’t ready to face.

  A sharp pain pierced his chest. He rubbed at the spot on his sternum. Angina, his doc said, brought on by stress. Nothing to worry about. Just stress less.

  Leo wiped at his forehead as he breathed through the pain, knowing it would pass. He and Lester were taking bets on who would croak first. Some days it felt as if he was winning that race.

  As soon as this investigation was closed, everything would go back to normal.

  At least that was the hope.

  Chapter 19

  Quinn walked into the station, signed in and strode forward as if her heart wasn’t suddenly hammering against her breastbone.

  She licked her dry lips and forced a cheerful wave at the officers she knew and ducked into Lester’s office, breathing easy for the first time since entering the building.

  Lester smiled when he saw her. Lester always had a smile for her. How could she entertain—even for a second—that Lester might be the evil Sara was writing about?

  “What are you up to, troublemaker?” Lester asked.

  “Just digging into leads,” she answered, returning the smile before scooping up a handful of candies from the bowl on his desk. “You know, you shouldn’t eat these.”

  “Oh, hush. Now, what do you need?”

  “I need a copy of Sara Westfall’s accident report.”

  Lester lost his smile to a frown. “Sara Westfall? Now, that’s a name from the past. What do you need that report for?”

  “Just something I’m looking into,” Quinn said. “Do you think you can have someone pull it up for me?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not. I just don’t know why you’d want it. That happened ages ago.”

  “Did you know Sara?”

  Lester coughed and shifted in his seat. “Not really.”

  “Seems no one did,” Quinn said. “Did you know she had a blog where she talked about all the corruption in Port Orion?”

  “Blogs,” Lester said with derision. “What happened to people having better things to do than poking at other people? Now that you mention it, I do remember something about her stirring up mud with her silly internet stuff. I hope you’re not thinking of following in her footsteps.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t have time to blog. But I am curious as to what she thought she knew. Mick implied she was an alcoholic.”

  “I suppose he would know,” Lester said. “He was her boss.”

  “True. But she was also three months in the hole to payroll. Why do you think Mick allowed her to take advances on her checks? Seems weird to me.”

  “That’s between him and his employee.”

  “Do you think they were sleeping together?”

  Lester offered a strained chuckle. “You are determined to shake the hen house, aren’t you?”

  “I guess so, if that means answers fall out.”

  “Now, what does Sara Westfall have to do with Rhia Daniels? Have you moved on from that case?”

  “No, quite the opposite. I think they’re all related.”

  Lester looked as if she’d lost her mind. “That’s a reach.”

  “What if the person who killed Spencer Kelly was the same person who killed Sara Westfall and later Rhia Daniels?”

  Lester frowned and wiped at his brow. “But why?”

  “That’s what I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I have a feeling that I’m getting close. When do you think I can get that file pulled?”

  “Now, hold on, that was a long time ago, and I don’t even know where it would be. All the archives are in a warehouse. You know I don’t have the manpower to send someone on a search and rescue for an old accident report on a hunch. Come on, Quinn. You’re killing me here.”

  “Lester, please. What if Sara was really onto something?”

  “And what if she was just a crazy loon?”

  Quinn drew back, surprised at Lester’s cruel jab. “And what if she wasn’t?” she returned quietly, trying not to be hurt by Lester’s surly attitude. “Don’t we owe it to the victims to follow all leads?”

  “Darlin’, you know I love you, but you’re driving me batty with all these conspiracy theories. This is Port Orion you’re talking about, not Las Vegas. We’re a simple town with good, honest folk. Why are you trying to paint the place into something it’s not?”

  Good folk? Like Harrison Dex? Who got the job on the force because his great-grandfather was a founding father of the town? Whose own father was a shady, philandering realtor who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants? Whose mother was suspected of embezzling funds from the Friends of the Port Orion Museum where she served as president? Were those the good folk Lester was referencing?

  Quinn knew better than to say any of that. Lester preferred things quiet and smooth.

  But she couldn’t resist one final comment.

  “If anyone is trying to paint a picture over the real one, it’s you, Lester. Open your eyes. This isn’t Mayberry and it never was. No matter how much you try to make it seem so.”

  “And you think dredging up an old case on the possibility—not solid proof—that foul play was involved is worth the pain and suffering it will cause?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t budging. “What about Sara’s family? What about Spencer’s family? Damn, Lester, what about Rhia’s family? Aren’t they owed whatever resource we can throw at them in the pursuit of justice?”

  “We’re doing everything we can,” Lester snapped, slamming his hand down on the desk so hard she jumped. “You just need to be satisfied with what we can give.”

  Hot tears burned behind her lids. Lester had never yelled at her. In all the years she’d known him, never had he looked at her with such anger.

  It hurt.

  It was like having a beloved uncle suddenly turn on you.

  Quinn rubbed at her nose to stop the tingling as tears threatened to fall.

  “If you make me fill out a FOIA request for the report, I will,” she said stiffly, rising. Swallowing the lump in her throat she added, “We’re on the same side, Lester. Please don’t make me the bad guy for demanding better for the victims.”

  As if finally hearing her, Lester exhaled a long breath as he shook his head. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Quinnie. I’m not myself these days. I think the file is still in the building. For some reason, when we did an audit, a few files were inadvertently left out. That one just happened to be one of them,” he admitted. “Harrison can grab it for you. Do you need anything else?”

  The urge to tell Lester about his detective burned on her tongue. If she was going to say something, now would be a perfect opportunity.

  But even as she wanted to tell Lester what a dangerous prick Harrison was...she didn’t. Lester had enough on his plate. Instead, she smiled and said, “I’ll wait in the conference room for the files.”

  And then she bounced.

  If she knew Lester, she knew that he’d immediately discipline Harrison but he wouldn’t fire him and that was what she was worried about.

  That was like poking at a beehive.

  Harrison would just wait out his punishment and then he’d be back—pissed off and looking for blood.

  Lester wanted t
o spend the rest of his tenure as sheriff on easy mode. She didn’t blame him—the man was past his prime and had earned some pasture time—but that didn’t really help the citizens of Port Orion.

  * * *

  Harrison walked in and slid the file toward her. “All this fuss over a drunk. You’re lucky. One more day and this would’ve been shipped to the warehouse,” he said. She forced a small smile and reached for the file but he stopped her by covering her hand with his.

  “You’re so damn tiny,” he said, dwarfing her hand with his big paw. “I could practically put you in my pocket.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked, pretending to sound bored when in fact, she was starting to sweat. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “What do you see in that guy?” he asked, lifting his hand only to grasp hers tightly. “You know he’s not going to stick around. There’s no future there. Now, me on the other hand...I got prospects. Lester is going to retire soon. Someone has to replace him.”

  “And you think that someone is you?” Quinn scoffed at the preposterous idea. “You’re not remotely qualified.”

  Harrison squeezed her hand painfully before letting go. “I like that fire. You don’t back down. Makes me wonder what you’re like in the sack. I bet you’re a wild thing. Do you leave scratches?”

  Quinn narrowed her gaze. “You’ll never know.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  What was he saying?

  She swallowed the sticky lump caught in her throat but held her ground. Bullies were cowards. If she stood up to Harrison, he’d realize she wasn’t easy prey. But the fact that he scared her after that last stunt was eating at her ability to remain strong.

  “How do you sleep at night?” Quinn asked, dismissing him as she returned to the file.

  But Harrison came around to stand behind her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I sleep just fine with dreams of what I’m going to do to you when you’re finally mine.”

  Panic set her heart to fluttering. “If you don’t get the hell away from me I’m going to start screaming my bloody head off,” she warned.

  Harrison chuckled and stepped away with his hands up in mock surrender. “Have fun with your little project,” he said before leaving.