The Killer You Know

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “You can tell me what really happened to Sara Westfall and how her death pertains to the death of Spencer Kelly for starters,” Silas answered, going straight for the jugular. “Or we could go to the station for a formal interview-slash-interrogation, which I’m guessing would make a fantastic headline.”

  Mick stuttered and tried to sputter a denial but Silas wasn’t in the mood for this fool.

  “At the station it is,” he announced, rising, but Mick quickly motioned for Silas to stay.

  “Sorry, sorry...this just comes as quite a shock. Give me a minute to breathe.”

  “I find that the truth is much less difficult to keep straight.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard but—”

  “Cut the crap. I don’t have the time or the patience to listen to you blather on with excuses. I want answers and I want them now.”

  “Answers to what? I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

  “Who are you protecting?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not in a habit of repeating myself,” Silas returned with a hard stare. “Who are you protecting?”

  Mick shifted in his chair as if his ass was on fire. The panic rolling off the man was enough to fill the cramped room.

  “Clock is ticking,” Silas reminded him. “Who are you protecting?”

  “Myself,” he finally blurted desperately. He leaned forward and lowered his voice to an embarrassed hiss. “Look, I was having an affair with one of my reporters—a reporter who was unstable at best. It was a bad call on my part but I didn’t have anything to do with her death. All I did was bury the story. I just wanted Sara to go away. I’m not going to lie and say that her death didn’t solve a lot of problems for me, but I didn’t kill her. You have to believe me.”

  “Why’d you front her money?”

  “Because I thought she’d shut up and stop going on about that kid’s death—”

  “That kid was my brother,” Silas cut in with a chilly look.

  Mick quailed and jabbered an apology. “Of course, of course. No offense meant. It was a terrible thing what happened to your brother, but Sara was obsessed. She was going on and on about conspiracies and secret groups operating behind the curtain and it was just nuts. I mean, clearly, she was spiraling but I didn’t know what else to do. If I didn’t give her the money, she was going to start squawking about our relationship and it would’ve destroyed my marriage.”

  “You did all that to keep your wife from finding out that you were screwing around?”

  He wiped at the sweat on his pate. “You can judge me all you want but you don’t know what I stood to lose. Sara was a loose cannon and when she died...yeah, I was relieved, but that doesn’t mean I had anything to do with her death.”

  As much as Silas wanted to pin Mick to the wall with something more concrete than being a crappy husband, his instincts told him he was being truthful.

  More’s the pity. He rather liked the idea of stomping on this little man.

  Mick’s lip trembled as he asked, “So...what are you going to do?”

  “Cheating on your wife isn’t a crime,” Silas said dispassionately. “Neither is being a spineless dick.”

  Mick’s lips pressed together as if he knew better than to argue.

  “Why’d you tell Quinn that she was messing with people that were dangerous if you’re not protecting anyone?”

  “I was just trying to scare her off,” he answered, swallowing visibly. “Quinn seems to be convinced Sara was right about the conspiracy theory and I thought that if I played into that delusion, it would work.”

  Seemed plausible. As Silas watched Mick sit in a puddle of his own sweat, he realized this man was no mastermind, nor was he an able accomplice. Anyone who would enlist Mick Creech as their accessory was adding a weak link to the chain.

  This was a dead end. But he was going to make sure the man knew what would happen if he dared to mess with the redhead.

  “Leave Quinn alone. If I find out you’re pestering or harassing her in any way, I’ll be back.”

  Mick licked his lips. “So, you’re not going to arrest me?”

  “For what? Like I said, you might be a weak asshole but that’s not a crime. As far as your payroll indiscretions, that’s between you and your employer. If they so choose, they can file a civil charge but seeing as so much time has gone by and you’ve already made restitution, it’s not worth my time.”

  Mick sagged with visible relief. “Oh, thank God. Thank you.”

  Silas rose and left Mick, presumably to wipe up after himself, perhaps even to change his underpants.

  While he was glad that Mick wasn’t a direct threat to Quinn, it did raise the troubling question of whether Quinn was onto something...or if she was chasing wild theories like Sara had.

  All he knew for certain was he needed to talk to Quinn, to sort out what’d happened last night.

  He couldn’t leave things as they were.

  Even if a little distance between them was better in the long run.

  * * *

  Quinn managed to send a text to Silas to meet her at Reba’s Diner as she left her house, purposefully avoiding the front door where the cat had been left.

  She knew Uncle Leo had washed it down and removed the horrific sight but nothing would erase what remained in her memory and she really didn’t want to keep reliving it.

  The dead cat had shaken her up, more so than she wanted to admit. For one, she felt sorry for the cat but two, she shuddered to think what kind of psycho would do that to send a message.

  She slid into the booth farthest from the door and closest to the kitchen so the noise would drown out their voices.

  Maybe she was being paranoid but she figured, at this point, she had good cause.

  Silas appeared, looking sharp as ever and for a brief moment she lost the anxiety that’d been with her all night and just enjoyed the view.

  But as soon as Silas slid opposite her, sudden tears filled her eyes.

  Alarmed, Silas reached for her hand, which she allowed him to grasp, in spite of being in public. She needed the comfort of his touch, if only to ground her.

  “Someone left a mutilated cat on my doorstep last night,” she said, throwing it out there because there was no way to pretty it up and she just wanted to get it over with. “It was pretty disgusting.”

  “When?” Silas asked, his grip tightening with concern. “Did you see anyone?”

  She shook her head. “No, it was late, after I left you at the park. I was pissed off and not paying attention. I almost stepped on the damn thing. I screamed when I realized what it was and my uncle took it away.”

  “Did he throw it in the trash or keep it?”

  “Ew? Why would he keep it?”

  “Forensic evidence.”

  Quinn grimaced. “No, he tossed it. I couldn’t believe someone would do that.”

  “Has this ever happened before?”

  She cut him a sardonic look. “No, generally people don’t leave nasty, rotting dead things at my door. This was the first time.”

  “Then it’s related to the investigation,” he concluded, which was the same assumption she’d come to. “Either we’re getting close or someone is panicking. They’re trying to scare you.”

  “Well, I hate to say it but it worked. I was freaked out. The cat’s head rolled off and nearly landed on my toes.”

  “Classic psychologic warfare. They’re saying this could be you.”

  “Which has to mean we are on the right track.”

  “Perhaps. People tend to react foolishly when they are scared.”

  “I can understand that. I wanted to run straight to your hotel. For the first time in my life, my house didn’t feel safe.”
>
  A beat of silence passed between them and Silas reluctantly let go of her hand. They both started to talk at once but Silas let Quinn take the lead.

  “I’m sorry I overreacted about what you said. I guess it was reckless and it could’ve blown up in my face. I’m tired of taking the safe route. I want to shake things up. I figured if I couldn’t handle someone like Creech, how was I ever going to handle bigger fish?”

  “Little fish have teeth, too,” he reminded her.

  “True. Do you think it was Creech who left the cat?”

  “No. That man has no spine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I paid him a visit this morning. He’s got no connection to anyone important. He was trying to save his own ass by trying to scare you into dropping your investigation.”

  “That little prick,” she muttered, shaking her head. “What a weasel.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t have the stones to actually gut an animal. He’s all talk, no conviction.”

  Quinn tried not to read too much into Silas going to her editor. He was following a lead, nothing more. But the warmth spreading in her belly made it hard to stop smiling.

  Silas caught her gaze and a wordless exchange flowed between them.

  “I’m sorry for the way I handled myself yesterday,” he said. “I was worried and I overreacted.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, no, it’s not okay but I get it. I shouldn’t have gotten so butt-hurt about it. You had valid concerns.”

  “Quinn, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what I feel when it comes to you. I find myself doing and saying things I would never do any other time when it concerns you or your well-being. I know it’s not my place to worry about you or question your methods. But when I think of you in danger...it does something to me and I lose my objectivity.”

  “Careful, I’m terribly charming,” she warned playfully, if only to keep from fluttering like a girl with a crush. “I’ve been known to break hearts.”

  “I believe it,” he said with a hint of a smile that she found irresistible.

  “We should get something to eat and then head out,” Quinn said, forcing herself to break eye contact. Another second and she might fall completely in love with the man who was leaving soon.

  Sensing her withdrawal, Silas followed her lead. “If the cat killer brings another present, call me. I don’t care what time it is. Whatever you do, don’t touch anything. I want to see if anything can be found forensically.”

  “Okay,” Quinn promised but she really hoped she never saw something like that again. “So where are you going today?”

  “I have to check in with my boss, make sure I’m still good on leave time and then I’m going to pop over to the coroner’s office, see if the paper trail on Sara’s accident report got waylaid anywhere along the chain. And you?”

  “To the office. I have to actually get some writing done. But now that you’ve gotten Mick off my back, it shouldn’t be too bad. I just have some odds and ends to take care of. Boring crap that’s still part of my job.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as typing the senior lunch menu,” she admitted with a blush. “Yeah, real scintillating stuff. Making a difference out there in the world.”

  “Well, for the senior citizens who plan their daily activities around the lunch menu, I’m sure it’s very important what you do,” he teased.

  “Ha ha,” she returned. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel afterward.”

  He smiled, liking that plan.

  Her blush returned, only this time she met his smile with one of her own.

  What would she do when Silas left town?

  Quinn had a terrible feeling it was going to hurt more than she realized.

  Silas was...quickly becoming her favorite part of the day.

  And night.

  Chapter 24

  Quinn thought perhaps Mick might come to her office but when he was noticeably absent from the building, she wondered if that was a good thing or bad.

  If only she’d been witness to the show. That would’ve been worth the cost of admission.

  She sighed with a small smile and turned to gather her paperwork to start her work when an unexpected visitor appeared in her doorway.

  Pastor Simms knocked lightly, his kindly face a welcome change from the usual people who ended up at the office, usually to complain about something.

  “Pastor Simms, what are you doing in my neck of the woods?” she asked, smiling as she gestured for him to come in. “Is it time for that story on the new sound system for the church already? I thought we had more time.”

  “No, no, you’re good. The sound system isn’t being delivered until next month. No, I came down here to see if I could talk to you on a more personal level.”

  “Oh? That’s intriguing. On or off the record?” she teased.

  But Pastor Simms was quite serious when he answered, “Definitely off the record,” as he gently closed her door for privacy.

  Now things were getting serious. “What’s going on?” she asked, concerned.

  “You’ve always been a bright girl with a hunger to go places. I knew the moment I saw you, you were going to make a name for yourself and with your talent... I have no doubts you’ll get to wherever you hope to go.”

  “Thank you?” Quinn said, a little baffled by the direction of the conversation but her gut was tingling in warning. “I appreciate the compliment.”

  Pastor Simms nodded as if he was glad he prefaced what he was about to say. “The thing is, as talented as you are... I wonder if you’ve taken the time to consider the cost to the people around you for your ambition.”

  Oh, this argument? Coming from Pastor Simms? Crimine, was there a Facebook group out there coordinating attacks on her integrity? She wanted to quip something harsh such as “You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet,” but she held it back, if only out of respect.

  “And where is this coming from?” she asked.

  “Rhia was a good girl. Sweet, kind, generous...and her family is grieving. We need to let her parents have closure.”

  “I agree. That’s why I’m determined to find who killed her. I feel that’s the best kind of closure.”

  Pastor Simms cast an aggrieved look her way and said, “Yes, of course. But what good does it do to broadcast that the poor girl had made a mistake and gotten pregnant? Hasn’t the family suffered enough?”

  “Someone killed Rhia and her unborn baby,” Quinn said. “They need to be brought to justice.”

  “But what if that justice is never served, in spite of all the dredging that happens in chasing this story? Some people are never brought to answer for their crimes and we have to trust that God will do that for us.”

  “I’m more of an in-this-lifetime supporter of justice. No offense.”

  “In a perfect world, Rhia’s killer would be apprehended quickly and quietly with as little pain to her loved ones as possible. But we don’t live in a perfect world so we have to be aware of how our actions affect others. I was a classmate of Spencer Kelly’s. I remember how his death affected this town. None of us were ever the same.”

  “Least of all the Kelly family,” she reminded him. “But I can guarantee you that closure is the best gift the grieving family could hope for. The questions can finally stop.”

  “Yes, yes, but is it really necessary to drag Rhia’s name and reputation through the mud to get to where you want to be?”

  “I’m not dragging anyone through the mud,” Quinn retorted, freshly offended. “Forgive me, Pastor Simms, but I don’t understand why you’re coming to me with this. It’s none of your concern how this investigation is handled.”

  “Oliver and Violet Daniels are members of my congregation. It’s my duty to speak on their behalf.”r />
  “Do you always go out of your way to speak for your church members?”

  “No, of course not. Only the ones who I feel need my intervention.”

  “And why would they need your help?”

  “Rhia was a very special girl. The Danielses are a wonderful family. Their pain is my pain.”

  “That’s admirable of you,” Quinn murmured but something didn’t feel right. Pastor Simms mistook her reflective silence as one of acquiescence and pressed his point further.

  “Rhia was a very private individual, much like her parents. She wouldn’t appreciate her business splashed all over the local news. I’m not asking you not to do your job,” he clarified. “Just to exercise empathy as you do what you feel is necessary. You are affecting people with the pain your articles cause. Please think of that.”

  But Quinn wasn’t going to back down, not even for Pastor Simms. “If we don’t print the truth, the killer wins. Justice isn’t served by remaining in the shadows. It’s my job to throw light on the dark corners where the bad guys hide and I aim to continue doing that. I’m sorry for any pain it may cause the Daniels family.”

  “Are you?”

  Quinn held his stare. “Yes.”

  Pastor Simms nodded as if disappointed in her decision. “Well, that’s all I can do, I suppose. I appreciate your time.”

  He started to leave but Quinn stopped him with another question. “You seemed to know Rhia pretty well. She was really involved with the church from what I hear.”

  “She was an angel. She was very special. God broke the mold when he made Rhia.”

  Quinn smiled as if she agreed and Pastor Simms let himself out.

  As soon as he was gone, Quinn dropped the fake smile and leaned back in her chair, her gut churning.

  Something about that didn’t feel right at all.

  Something about the way Pastor Simms had said angel.

  It hadn’t felt fatherly.

  It’d felt like something...a lover would say.

  Good God.

  Was it possible that Rhia’s secret lover was Pastor Simms?