The Killer You Know

by Kimberly Van Meter

  She’d deal with the fallout later.

  For now, she was playing for Team Kelly.

  * * *

  It was early morning. The dawn hadn’t crested the horizon yet when his cell phone rang.

  He was surprised to see it was his second older brother, Shaine.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Damn. I’ll call earlier next time,” Shaine quipped with his signature smart-ass style but he sobered quickly. “Look, man, I heard that you’re back in Port Orion. What are you doing? Chasing ghosts?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m onto something.”

  That piqued his interest. “Yeah? How so?”

  Silas told Shaine all about Sara Westfall and how she died under suspicious circumstances, the blog and the current investigation into the recent murder of Rhia Daniels.

  But Shaine stopped him with a sudden, “Wait a minute...you said this Sara chick wrote a blog?”

  “Yeah, but it’s long gone. We found a partially cached version but there wasn’t much to go on.”

  “Yeah, I remember that blog,” Shaine said, shocking Silas. “Well, I remember Dad following it pretty closely.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah. In fact, it was one of the arguments he and Mom got into, because she hated that this reporter chick was using our tragedy to gain traffic on her website.”

  “Why was Dad interested?”

  “Dad thought she might know something. He said Sara was smarter than she looked. Everything was cryptic but there was a message deep within the pages. He said she was probably afraid to come out and just say what she thought was happening, which considering how she died...maybe she was right to be afraid.”

  “I don’t remember any of this,” Silas said, baffled.

  “Yeah, well, you were a kid and busy being an asshole most days.”

  No arguing that point. “Do you think Mom would remember any of what the blog said?”

  “Don’t know but it might be worth a phone call.”

  “I don’t want to upset her unnecessarily,” Silas hedged, hating the idea of giving his mother false hope if it turned out this lead went nowhere.

  “Mom made her peace a long time ago. She’s not as fragile as you think. Ask her. If she remembers anything, she’ll tell you. If she doesn’t, well, you’re not out anything.”

  Valid.

  “Is that why you called? To get me to call Mom?”

  “No, but you really should call her now and then. She misses you.”

  “She’s busy living it up as a widowed retiree in Florida,” Silas disagreed, fighting against the crush of guilt.

  “Call her, you big pussy,” Shaine said. “Maybe it’ll help.”

  “Thanks Captain Obvious,” Silas said. “Enough about me, how’s things with you and Poppy?”

  “Can’t complain.” Silas could hear the grin in his brother’s answer.

  “Well hopefully she doesn’t wise up and realize that she’s getting the short end of the stick,” he teased.

  “There’s nothing short about anything on me,” Shaine returned with typical Shaine smugness. “Maybe that’s an issue with you but I’m good over here.”

  “Dumbass. All right, so you’re happy. Good. Glad to hear it.”

  They spent the next few minutes catching up, filling each other in on current events, but Silas left out the part where he was sleeping with the press. Shaine didn’t need yet another way to bust his balls. Big brothers always had plenty of ammunition on their own.

  Besides, he didn’t know how to classify what was happening between him and Quinn without it sounding cheap and sordid.

  He didn’t want anyone to judge Quinn for what they were doing.

  Not to mention, he wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between him and that foxy redhead.

  All he knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and when he thought of that asshole detective, he wanted to walk into the station and punch Harrison in the mouth.

  Last night, Silas realized he and Quinn were worse than a habit; they were an addiction.

  The idea of returning to Chicago without her...left him cold.

  He also hated the idea of leaving her behind to fend off that lecherous dick all on her own.

  Not that Quinn was some weak female who couldn’t take care of herself, but sometimes Quinn underestimated the power of others.

  That was a mistake that could cost her.

  His thoughts returned to the case.

  Who would have access to the accident report? The obvious answer was anyone in the station.

  But also the coroner could’ve doctored the report.

  The question is...why?

  And who could he trust with what he’d learned so far?

  As much as he hated to think about the possibility...what if Lester was behind everything?

  The man had saved him.

  Was he capable of the heinous crimes left in this killer’s wake?

  God, he hoped not.

  But in the meantime, he would keep information close to the vest.

  Chapter 21

  Quinn was typing up her latest update when Mick walked into her office. Knowing what she did about Sara, she felt a little uneasy around Mick now.

  “I think the Rhia Daniels case is cooling. The news vans are already starting to clear out. Maybe we should put our resources elsewhere until something pops up.”

  “The case is not cold,” Quinn disagreed. “The case is hotter than ever. I’m just not in a position to reveal what I know yet.”

  “And what do you think you know?”

  She wasn’t deaf to the subtle sneer in his tone. Forcing a smile, she said, “Don’t worry. When I’m ready to go public, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I’m your boss. Tell me now.”

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Mick wasn’t accustomed to being defied. He ran the newsroom the way he saw fit and didn’t take kindly to back talk. Too bad—Mick should’ve known that Quinn was nothing but back talk and sass on her best day.

  “You’re messing with your job, young lady.”

  She was walking on dangerous ground. But it was now or never. Stand up to Mick or else back down and never have the balls to chase her dream.

  It was that simple.

  The world was filled with men like Mick Creech and she wasn’t about to run with her tail between her legs at the first sign of push-back.

  Quinn rose and went toe-to-toe with Mick, which wasn’t hard because he was rounder than he was tall.

  “Why were you fronting Sara Westfall money from payroll? When she died she was three months in the hole,” she tossed at him.

  Mick’s mouth dropped open a little but he recovered quickly. “Watch yourself,” he warned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Actually, I do. It’s all there in black-and-white. The numbers don’t lie. It’s just that no one thought to look, but that doesn’t mean that the story isn’t still there, just waiting to be written.”

  Mick blanched, his lip trembling a bit. “What story?”

  “Maybe the biggest story of all...was Sara Westfall’s death a crime of passion? Maybe she was going to tell your wife that you were sleeping together and you had to shut her up? I don’t know, I guess I’ll just have to go where the leads take me.”

  She was taking a huge chance. Her instincts told her that Mick wasn’t a killer but he wasn’t innocent, either.

  “Don’t go spreading gossip,” he said, but his tone had lost its edge. He was scared. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of spreading rumors or gossip. B
ut I wouldn’t hesitate to write the truth...whatever that may be.”

  “I didn’t kill Sara,” he said, his gaze darting around the newsroom to see if anyone heard him. He continued in a low tone. “Yes, we were sleeping together and I felt bad for her because of her sister so I fronted her the money, which I paid back to payroll on my own, but I never killed her.”

  Stunned, Quinn tried to hide her shock at how quickly Mick caved. What a wet noodle. “Who was she writing about on her blog?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You were sleeping together and you didn’t know her secrets?” Quinn countered with disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

  “Look, we were just messing around. My wife...you don’t understand...she’s a cold, heartless woman. If she’d found out about me and Sara... I would’ve lost everything, but still, I didn’t do anything to hurt Sara. I cared for her.”

  “So why are you so hell-bent on keeping anyone from digging into her accident?”

  Shame crept into his expression. “I didn’t want to chance anyone asking questions about our relationship. She was dead. Nothing was going to bring her back, so why dig up dirt? I just wanted it to go away.”

  “Someone killed her,” Quinn said, disgusted at Mick’s weakness. He was a coward. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “She was an alcoholic,” he said almost desperately. “It was a tragic accident.”

  “Her sister said she wasn’t drinking that night.”

  “Her sister is crazy,” Mick shot back. “You can’t believe a word she says.”

  “Why would she lie? She loved her sister.”

  “I...I don’t know.”

  “Who doctored the coroner’s report?” Quinn pressed in a hard tone.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.” She narrowed her gaze. “Who are you protecting and why?”

  A bead of sweat gathered on Mick’s top lip. “Listen up, you’d better watch yourself. You don’t know what you’re getting into. Just... I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re a good kid—”

  “I’m not a kid,” she cut in coolly. “And I’m tired of this town trying to make me feel small and inconsequential. I’m ready to tear down the walls and expose whatever corruption is killing this town.”

  Quinn gathered her notes and stalked past Mick as he stuttered after her. Her heart was beating hard and she barely made it to her car before her knees gave out.

  It’d been a hunch—a wild, desperate hunch—and it’d worked.

  Mick was covering for someone.

  Someone important.

  * * *

  Silas breathed deep and then dialed his mother’s number. He didn’t know why he was so reluctant to call his mom when it’d been his dad who’d been harsh after Spencer died.

  But he supposed guilt was the culprit. Maybe he imagined it, but he always saw the echo of accusation in her eyes when she looked at him.

  The fact that she lived in Florida now didn’t change the residual issues that messed with his head.

  She picked up on the second ring, a light laugh in her tone. “Honey? Is that you? Goodness gracious, I was so surprised when I saw your number flash.”

  “Hi, Mom,” he said, rubbing at the sudden tightness in his chest. “How are you?”

  “Pretty good. I just finished with my bridge circle and was going to enjoy a little pudding in the community hall. They have the best tapioca here, homemade even.”

  “That’s great, Mom,” he said with a small smile. He enjoyed hearing how happy his mom was, but it made the purpose of his call that much more difficult.

  “So what’s this about? As much as I love hearing from my boy, I know you’re very busy so you must have a reason for calling.”

  Guilt clawed at him. “Mom, I don’t have to have a reason to call,” he protested, though it was true. He hated that he was such a pathetic shit that he couldn’t get over his issues and enjoy what time he had left with his remaining parent. “But since you asked... I do have a question for you and I hope it doesn’t upset you.”

  “Oh, that sounds serious.”

  “I’m in Port Orion, investigating a case, and I discovered some leads that I need to check out. Shaine said you might be able to help.”

  “I’ll help if I can, but it’s been a long time since I lived in Port Orion. I doubt anything is the same anymore.”

  “More than you know,” he said drily. “Do you remember a blog written by Sara Westfall?”

  “The name is familiar.”

  “Shaine said that Dad followed her blog, thought that maybe she was onto something related to Spencer’s death.”

  His mother drew a breath and said, “Silas...what are you getting yourself into?”

  “Mom, a girl was killed in Port Orion about two weeks ago. She was killed in the same place and in the same way as Spencer. I think the two cases are related.”

  “Oh, honey,” his mom sighed. “Let your brother rest in peace so you can finally let go.”

  “It’s not about that, Mom,” he said, quickly moderating his tone to mask his frustration. “It’s about a killer who’s getting away with murder because no one is looking for him.” He drew a deep breath before continuing. “Do you remember the blog?”

  After a long pause, his mother said, “Yes.”

  Relief almost made him weak. “What do you remember?”

  “I remember that she was insinuating that Port Orion was engulfed in some kind of corruption ring but honestly, it was so wild and crazy I didn’t have the stomach to keep reading. I told your father I thought it was unhealthy to read that garbage but he didn’t listen.”

  “What if she was right?” Silas said.

  His mother actually scoffed. “Honey, that’s preposterous. A terrible thing happened to our family but that doesn’t mean that the bogeyman is behind every door.”

  “Mom, I know you want to believe that everyone is essentially good, but I can tell you with great authority that the world is filled with terrible people. I believe Sara was killed because she accidentally stumbled on something that someone didn’t want out and if that’s the case...there very well might be a ring of corruption in Port Orion.”

  His mother sighed as if bothered by all this nasty business but admitted with great reluctance, “Your father printed out every page of that woman’s blog. I stumbled across the papers when I was cleaning out the closet. Your father had already passed away and I thought about throwing them away but...I didn’t. I can’t even tell you why,” she said. “Your father...he was a complicated man but I did love him.”

  Even though they’d divorced years before his father passed, Silas knew his parents had still loved each other at some level.

  There’d just been too much pain between them for the union to survive.

  “Anyway, the papers are in a box. I was going to toss them when I got around to it. I guess I just never did.”

  “Mom, I need you to email those papers. Do you know how to use your phone to scan documents?”

  “I’m not a preschooler, Silas,” his mother admonished. “I happen to be the secretary of the Bridge Birdies Club.”

  “My apologies,” Silas quickly offered, but this was even better. “I’m going to text you my email address. I need you to scan those documents ASAP and send them to me right now.”

  “Silas, I can’t just drop everything to run errands for you,” she said, slightly perturbed. “I have an engagement in ten minutes that I can’t be late for.”

  “Mom, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake, fine. I suppose I can be a few minutes late to dinner. I’ll just have to ring Arthur and let him know.”

  “Arthur? Who is Arthur?”

  “We don’t like to put labels o
n things, but I guess the appropriate term would be boyfriend.” She tittered and added in a giddy tone, “Just saying that out loud makes me feel like a kid again. Do you know, he actually gives me butterflies? I never thought I’d feel this way about someone after your father.”

  Silas tried not to revert to a twelve-year-old. His mother had a boyfriend? Good grief, that couldn’t be good for her bad hip. “Mom...aren’t you a little...um, mature to be dating?”

  “We’ll see how you feel when you’re my age,” his mother said. “Now, I’ll spare you the uncomfortable details but at some point, you might want to come and visit. I think you would like Arthur quite a bit. He’s a retired police officer from Naples, Florida. Isn’t that something?”

  He fought the urge to gag like an adolescent. “Sure, Mom,” he acquiesced, if only to stop talking about it. He supposed he’d have to get used to the idea that his mother was still...dateable? “So you’ll send those scans?”

  “Yes, Silas,” she answered, indulging him. “Say hello to your brothers for me.”

  “I will,” he promised and clicked off, his hands clammy from gripping the phone too hard. His mother had the original blog pages. Of all the damn people who could be holding on to a vital clue...his own mother was the one.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Quinn.

  This could be the break they were looking for.

  Chapter 22

  Quinn asked Silas to meet her at Gilbert Park. She was still so wired from her confrontation with Mick that she couldn’t stop pacing.

  Silas pulled up and she sprinted to his car. “You are not going to believe what happened at work today,” she said before he’d even shut off the ignition.

  “Why are we meeting here like two clandestine spies in a ’90s movie?” he asked.

  “Because I needed a change of scenery and couldn’t fathom pacing that tiny hotel room of yours. Plus, I knew if we were somewhere private we’d end up having sex and I need to focus on what’s going on right now.”

  “I’ve been thrown over for the case.” He pretended to be hurt but he didn’t blame her for needing to focus. Once he shared what he’d found, she would likely start jabbering like a woman possessed. “Get in. I have something to show you.”