“And she’s out,” a voice said in the darkness.
That was...odd.
Shouldn’t there be a light or a welcoming chorus of angels? She’d never given much thought to the afterlife. She was too focused on surviving day by day, but this seemed rather anticlimactic.
The darkness shifted, like a boat on an angry ocean.
Wow. That wasn’t right, was it?
Something clicked. A car door?
The sounds of cars on the road and an airplane overhead. Music from the hardware store blared overhead.
Quinn wasn’t dead. Yet.
Fear clawed up inside her, a panicked beast needing to be free.
She tried to open her mouth, to scream, say something, but her body was not her own anymore. She was trapped in this meat suit called a body, with no way to cry out for help, call Owen, anything.
Owen paced back down the width of the store, peering down each and every aisle.
Where the hell was Quinn?
She’d said she was on her way here, so where was she?
Had she gone back to HI-Co without telling him?
That damn phone of hers was always dying. If he thought she’d let him, he’d get her a new one just so he could worry a little bit less. Maybe he’d convince her to use a burner. Something that wouldn’t leave her stranded like this.
A man in a red vest carrying a clip board rounded a display.
“Excuse me?” Owen stepped into the man’s path. “I’m looking for a customer. Quinn Schaeffer, five six, brown hair, hazel eyes, tan—”
“Quinn. Yeah.” The man frowned. “What’s going on?”
“I was supposed to pick her up, but I don’t see her.”
“I haven’t seen her today.” The man tucked the pencil behind his ear, his frown deepening.
“She come in often?”
“Couple times a week, maybe once a month? Depends on what she needs.”
“Do you have security cameras?”
“Let’s ask Marty, first. He’s been on register one since we opened.”
The man led Owen to the register where a young, gangly guy was ringing up customers.
“Marty, you seen Quinn today?” the man asked.
“No. Is she coming in? I’ve got something to show her.”
The man in the vest turned back to Owen. “If Quinn came through those doors, Marty would have seen her. He’s been pestering her about looking at something he’s making. The guy’s got a sixth sense just for her. Is her car outside?”
“She was supposed to get a taxi.” Owen stared out the front windows.
It wasn’t a busy street, the clients more industrial than residential. Cameras were not likely going to be of much use.
“Maybe she got held up and I’m worrying about nothing,” Owen said mostly to himself.
“I’ll keep an eye out for her. Looks just like her mother.”
“You knew Quinn’s mom?”
“Sure did. She opened her lab around the same time we moved into this space. Hate what’s going on over there.” The man shook his head. “You need anything, holler.”
“Will do, thanks.”
Owen walked out through the glass sliding doors.
“Where are you?” he whispered.
Maybe he’d try her phone again.
It rang earlier, so perhaps it wasn’t quite dead.
He jabbed her speed dial and pressed the phone to his ear.
Ring-ring. Ring-ring.
He pulled the phone away from his ear.
Ring.
His phone rang.
The answering ring was fainter.
He rounded the corner of the building, jumping down the small retaining wall.
A dumpster sat up against the side of the building, piles of trash around it.
Ring.
Owen reached for a gun that wasn’t at his side.
He edged around the dumpster, holding his breath—not because of the stench, but because of what he might find.
Quinn dead.
A body.
The worst images of his career in homicide supplying the worst humanity could do.
He saw her hand, first, so pale against the black garbage bags.
“Quinn!”
Owen’s training went out the window. He was a man staring at the woman he loved sprawled in the trash like a ragdoll. He went to his knees, cupping her cheek for a moment while he felt for a pulse with the other.
Her chest rose and fell. Her breathing was shallow, as if she were asleep.
She was alive.
Dear god, she was alive.
“Help? Hey, I need some help over here,” he yelled.
Owen jabbed at his phone, hands shaking. He needed to call this in. Get help. His mind knew the process, but all he could think about was holding onto her.
Quinn was alive, but what had happened to her?
There was no blood, no strangulation marks, so what? She hadn’t just fallen here. She wouldn’t crawl into the refuse for a nap. So what happened?
“Oh my god.” Marty, the cashier, rushed to Owen’s side.
“Here, call 9-1-1.” That was beyond Owen’s ability right now. He couldn’t tend to Quinn and get help.
Marty took the phone, freeing up Owen to focus on Quinn.
Her pulse remained steady. He opened her mouth, looking for something that had maybe obstructed her breathing, but nothing was there.
Owen picked Quinn up, doing his best to be gentle, and lifted her out of the trash heap.
Whoever had done this, Owen would find them.
He laid her on the sidewalk, stretched out. He yanked his arms out of his jacket and bunched it up to slide under her head. He didn’t dare move her. If something was wrong, jostling her might make it worse. Besides, he also had a crime scene to think about.
“They’re on their way,” Marty said, the phone still pressed to his ear.
“Quinn? Can you hear me, Quinn?” Owen took her lifeless hand.
Her fingers curled around his. Not much, but there was the slightest bit of response.
“You hold onto my hand, Quinn Schaeffer, you hear me? Hold on.”
Seconds ticked by. People trickled out of the hardware store, some coming to stare. Marty muttered answers to questions Owen couldn’t pay attention to. He kept talking to her. Words. Nonsense. His throat tightened. His eyes prickled.
Quinn’s hand contracted a bit more.
He couldn’t lose her.
Not like this. So soon.
“That’s a girl,” he whispered.
Sirens wailed. A red and white truck whipped around the corner at the end.
Before the ambulance had even stopped, the back doors were flung open and an all too familiar person leapt out.
Owen breathed a brief sigh of relief.
“She’s breathing, pulse is steady and she’s begun to respond. No obvious injury, no blood.” He rattled off the facts, doing his best to keep what he was feeling out of it.
Kade went to a knee. There was no hi, how are you, long time no see, just business.
There was no one else Owen would trust Quinn’s life to right now. Kade was the best. Years of combat medicine made him uniquely qualified for dealing with the seriously fucked up and mysterious.
The other paramedics brought out a stretcher.
Quinn’s lashes fluttered.
“Quinn? Quinn, you there?” Owen reached for her hands.
“Hold on.” Kade held out his arm, keeping Owen back.
“Hey, Quinn. Can you hear me? Look at me if you can, please?” Kade leaned over her. “There’s something on her face. Looks like powder.”
She groaned and her hand flopped on the pavement.
“All right, let’s get loaded up. Brace?” Kade reached out and took a neck brace to secure her. Kade glanced at him. “You coming or staying?”
“I should stay.” Owen had no idea who’d be processing the scene. If it was someone he could trust to do a thorough job. He sh
ould be here, to at least take notes.
“Okay. I’ll call you.”
Owen straightened, watching Kade load Quinn up into the ambulance.
Was this the right call? Should he really stay here? If he wasn’t on scene to see what they found, he might never know. He wasn’t a cop anymore, not really, and what they’d tell him versus what he’d see for himself were two different things. What evidence there was to tell him who did this and why.
The ambulance motored off.
She was beginning to come around. She had to be okay.
“King, what the hell are you getting yourself into?” Officer Morgan shook his head. His partner, Wu, was right behind him.
“A lot, actually.” Owen scrubbed his hand across his mouth. Thank goodness it was them. Honest, good people.
“What can you tell us?” Morgan asked.
Owen started at the beginning, leading with the home invasion, then the events of the day.
“You know you can’t assist,” Morgan said.
“I know.” Owen hated this, but he’d hold back if it meant finding out who was after Quinn.
“But I wouldn’t mind your eyes on the scene. Just—don’t touch anything, okay?”
“You got it.”
“I’ve got a phone over here.” Wu knelt and snapped a few pictures of the phone with his. These days, they could document a crime scene from top to bottom before the forensics unit was dispatched, if needed.
“She was supposed to take a taxi here, some sort of Uber rip-off.” Owen walked the trash line, looking for anything discarded that might be out of place.
“You know which one?” Morgan asked.
“There’s an app for it on her home screen. She said she uses it because there’s more drivers in this area.” Owen peered at a scratched-up can of...something. “Hey, does this look green to you?”
Morgan crouched next to him, studying the can.
“It does, kind of,” he said.
“Kade said there was a powder on her face. She looked a little green, I just thought she might be sick.” Owen itched to bag the item.
Morgan beat him to it.
“Got a phone number for the driving service. Calling now.” Wu pressed his phone to his face.
These were the things Owen would do if this were his crime scene. Granted, for him to be called in there was always a dead body. This time he was grateful everyone was still breathing. For now.
He needed to get to the hospital soon. When Quinn woke up, he wanted to be there.
Wu paced away from them as he spoke to the person on the phone.
“Hey, Owen?” Morgan edged closer.
“Yeah? Sorry.” Owen shook his head.
“There’s some talk. About why you got suspended... Things have been a little nutty lately...”
“People talk, Morgan.” Owen shrugged.
“Yeah, not like this. Did something happen?”
“What do you want to know?” Owen dragged his focus back to the moment. Morgan was getting at something.
“The place that Ukrainian guy used to do his business out of, we got a SWAT hit on it that was called off. Looks pretty fishy if you ask me.” Morgan tilted his head.
“I got something,” Wu called out.
“Yeah, it does, but that’s not my problem anymore.” Owen slapped Morgan on the shoulder. He turned toward Wu. “What is it?”
“Driver dispatched to where your girl was never picked her up. Said he waited there fifteen minutes, but she was a no show.” Wu grimaced.
“Then who picked up our vic?” Morgan asked.
“Quinn. Her name is Quinn.” Owen curled his hand into a fist.
This was going beyond a home invasion.
“I want a goddamn update,” she growled into the phone. This was her life they were messing with. It was either her, or Quinn.
“I’m taking care of it.”
She hated working with people she hadn’t trained. This man was a loose cannon. She hadn’t seen it before, but she did now.
“Details. I need to know what you’re doing.” She paced to the window and looked out at the lab.
“I rattled her cage a little.” He sighed into the phone. “Haven’t found the key or any notebooks, so I’m hoping this scares her into bringing it out.”
“What—did—you—do?” Was a straight answer so hard?
“I drugged her. Left a little love note for her to find later. Just a scare tactic.”
“This job does not require theatrics. You kill her. You get the key. Maybe the notebook. That’s it. If I wanted a full-on production, I’d have hired someone else.”
“That’s not how I work.”
“You agreed to do a job.” She shook her head and closed her eyes.
She was going to have to do this herself.
13.
Quinn stared at the wall. Not because there wasn’t anything else to look at, the nurse had been kind enough to turn on the TV after they’d poked and prodded her, but lifting her head was beyond her ability.
Fear nibbled around the edges of her consciousness, but the drug hadn’t worn off enough that she could truly feel. Mostly, she had the foundation of ideas. Revelations about her life. She’d sort it all out later. Being awake was enough for now.
“Ma’am?” The nurse poked her head through the curtains giving Quinn some privacy, despite the hustle and bustle of the emergency department. After the invasive exam from the doctor earlier, the privacy was appreciated.
“Yes?” Her mouth was dry, which made saying even that word feel as though she were gargling sand paper. They’d only allowed her ice chips so far, at least until she was more herself.
“You have visitors. We’re only supposed to allow two back at a time, but we’ll make an exception, if you can keep it down.” The nurse winked at Quinn.
Owen? Please let it be Owen...
She fisted the sheets. What was she going to say to him? She’d had a list earlier, but it was gone now, her mind too foggy to hold onto things.
Wait—more than two guests?
Besides Chloe and Owen, who’d want to come see her? It wasn’t like Quinn had a lot of friends.
The curtain slid aside and Karen limped forward.
Holy shit...
“Quinn, darling!” She gripped the side of the bed.
Molly and Anna Beth flanked her, their expressions more befuddled than anything else.
Crap. Quinn hadn’t gotten the supplies and her wallet was likely stolen, which meant they’d be next week sometime before they could get back to work. It didn’t leave a lot of time to really attempt for a functional prototype for the conference.
“Sorry, I didn’t get the equipment.” Even Quinn’s voice sounded dull and lifeless still.
“What?” Karen frowned. “That doesn’t matter. How are you? Are you okay? Did they see you already?”
“Yeah.” Quinn gestured to the IV. There wasn’t much the doctors could do for her to combat whatever she’d been drugged with, besides make her comfortable and wait it out.
“Very sorry to hear about the accident,” Anna Beth said.
“Did they find who did it?” Molly asked.
“No.” Quinn shifted in the bed, growing restless.
Where was Owen? Shouldn’t he be here already? If he wasn’t, did he know who was behind this?
“Will they be releasing you? Are you okay?” Karen gripped the bedrail.
Quinn could hear the unasked question, When will you be returning to work?
“I’ll be fine. This should wear off shortly. After that, this was all a bad dream,” she said. There was no reason to upset everyone the week before the conference. No, she’d wait until after it to begin the resignation process.
It was time Quinn stopped living for everyone else. This job wasn’t worth it. The days of working herself to death for people who didn’t give a rat’s ass that she sacrificed for them were over. She’d stayed at HI-Co out of some misguided sense of loyalty. What kind of
example was she setting for Kierra? Quinn didn’t want her little sister working for Karen. Quinn didn’t want Kierra to think that her only option was HI-Co. All this time, Quinn had seen herself as protecting her sister’s future, when really, she was setting an example for failure.
No one could live like she was forever. It was too much now, and it wasn’t likely to get better.
“I have to ask, did you have your laptop on you?” Karen’s face creased, the worry written in the deep lines.
“Oh, no. I needed it worked on. Took it to a friend for the weekend.” She and Owen had settled on that lie beforehand, thank goodness.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Karen chuckled. “About scared me, thinking I’d have to take over for you.”
Because then Karen would have to actually work. Such a travesty.
Quinn merely nodded, keeping her internal monologue to herself. Many things were going to change in the near future. Karen would have to figure out a lot more than just answering the phones when Quinn was gone. She’d phase out slowly, if possible, but eventually when the phone rang and it was Karen, Quinn wouldn’t answer.
Just because Karen and Quinn’s mother had been best friends didn’t beholden Quinn to her.
“Knock knock.”
Those two words sent ripples of warmth through her body. Quinn turned toward the curtains that framed the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. In those dark moments, trapped in her body, unable to move or call out for help, she’d thought of him. The one person who didn’t patiently wait for her to let down her walls and trust him. No, Owen demanded in his own way, with smiles and dinner, kindness with an uncomfortable dose of truth. There was so much about him she’d taken for granted or not allowed herself to appreciate. No more.
“Owen?” She reached out her hand, as though she could pull him across the distance to her.
He stepped past Molly and Anna Beth to the bedside, crowding Karen to the foot of the bed.
“Hey there.” He smiled, but it didn’t chase the shadows clouding his eyes.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. Words clogged in her throat. Where did she start?
“You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered.
“Hello. Who is your friend, Quinn?”
Quinn felt the green-eyed monster rising up inside of her. Owen was hers. She could hear those notes of interest in Karen’s voice. There was no way Quinn would allow Karen to set Owen up with one of her darling daughters in science.
Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4) Page 16
