“Uh-huh.” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “I think you should probably sit here and think a little bit, maybe try to come up with a better story.” He slowly got to his feet and shuffled toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Think through your lies next time. I would hate to be here all day.”
“I THINK YOU should let me try to talk to her.”
Two hours later Rowan delivered a hearty breakfast to a grateful Quinn before her attention became riveted on the woman sitting in the conference room. Over the course of the morning Rebecca’s attitude had moved from tearful and conciliatory to vague and threatening. If Quinn didn’t have other things on his mind, he would be mildly fascinated.
“Rowan, you’re not part of the security team,” Quinn reminded her, biting into a slice of bacon. “You are, however, the best girlfriend ever. I needed food.”
Rowan smiled as she patted his forearm. “I know that, but you said she asked for me.”
“Because she thought you could manipulate me to help her.”
“Like that would happen,” Rowan scoffed.
“It might, but not in this case. Why do you want to talk to her?”
“Because she attached herself to me from the start and I’m starting to wonder if that was strategic,” Rowan admitted. “I’m not the queen of interrogations like you, but I think I’ll probably be able to hold my own. I used to work for a newspaper, after all. I watched reporters interview people hundreds of times.”
“Okay, but … .” Quinn trailed off, unsure what he wanted to say.
“She’s a civilian, sir,” Andrew interjected. Quinn was fairly certain the man had been listening – even though he made a big show of pretending otherwise – but now his instincts had been proven true. “Do you really think she should be involved?”
“Who are you?” Rowan wrinkled her nose.
“I’m the fourth in command here where it comes to security on The Bounding Storm,” Andrew replied, staring her down.
“That doesn’t mean you’re a general or anything,” Rowan pointed out. “Besides, you’re a civilian, too. You’re a security guard, not an admiral.”
“Calm down,” Quinn automatically ordered when Andrew looked as if he was going to bark at Rowan. “She has a point.”
“Of course she does,” Andrew muttered, rolling his eyes.
Quinn ignored the sarcasm and focused on Rowan. “What do you think she’s going to tell you?”
“Either the truth or another elaborate lie,” Rowan replied. “She thinks she can manipulate me because I’m soft. I’m not soft.”
“Yeah, you’re a real leg breaker,” Quinn drawled, heaving out a sigh.
“Quinn, you’re not going to lose anything by letting me in there.” Rowan adopted a pragmatic tone. “She’ll either tell me the truth because she thinks I’ll be able to help or she’ll spin another outrageous lie. She would do that for your benefit anyway. We’re not losing anything by trying.”
“Except you have no idea what you’re doing,” Andrew pointed out.
“I still think it’s worth a try,” Rowan argued.
Quinn blinked several times in rapid succession as he looked at her, his head and heart warring for a bit. Finally he nodded, resigned. “Okay, Ro. I’m going to give you a chance.”
Rowan didn’t bother hiding her surprise. “You are?”
“You said it yourself. You can’t do any worse than we’ve been doing. She’s been trying to play us from the minute I started questioning her. Maybe you can do better.”
“But she’s a civilian,” Andrew hissed.
Quinn ignored him. “Give it your best shot. You might be able to come up with something good.”
“I’m totally on it.” Rowan was beyond excited as she squared her shoulders. “Should I be good cop or bad cop?”
Andrew groaned as Quinn grinned.
“I think you should be good cop.” Quinn wiped his hands on his napkin as he stood. “I’m going in there with you for safety’s sake and I’m going to be bad cop.”
“I could always be badder cop.”
“Or you could be a lava shark,” Quinn suggested, grinning. “Go with good cop. I think that’s going to be your strong suit.”
“I’m on it.” Rowan did a charming little dance that caused Quinn’s heart to thump a bit quicker. “I’m going to crack her like an egg.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
16
Sixteen
Rebecca didn’t look at the door when it opened. “Are you coming back to call me a liar again? If so, I think I’m going to pass on your visit, no matter how much I love your scintillating company.”
“Who has been calling you a liar?” Rowan pasted a bright smile on her face as she sat in the chair next to Rebecca. She wanted to appear friendly rather than authoritarian.
Quinn didn’t have that problem. He was bad cop, after all. “I think she’s talking about me.”
“Oh, well, be nice.” Rowan flashed a flirty smile before focusing on Rebecca. The woman looked rough, completely unlike the fresh-faced ingénue she’d met on the first day at sea. “I hear you’ve had a rough night.”
“It’s been terrible.” Rebecca’s tone was piteous. “They’ve been treating me like a criminal when it was merely an accident.”
“I’m sure it was.” Rowan’s voice was clear and calm, free of contempt. “Just tell me what happened and I’ll see what I can do to prove it.”
Rebecca knit her eyebrows. “Prove it? Can’t you just … you know, snap your fingers and make it happen?”
“You would think but … no. Sorry. Quinn needs acceptable answers. I’m here to try to help you and get him those acceptable answers.”
Rebecca’s eyes drifted to Quinn, something dark dancing behind them.
“What?” Quinn challenged. “Did you think I would just give in to her because I think she’s cute?”
“I thought you would believe her because she’s clearly the only rational one on the ship,” Rebecca shot back. “Good gravy! What is it with you people? It was an accident. It’s not as if I stole Callisto’s gold-plated jewelry or something.”
“The problem is that Callisto is still missing,” Rowan pointed out, drawing Rebecca’s attention back to her. “It’s been at least thirty-six hours now since anyone heard from her. The ship may be big, but there aren’t endless places to hide either. The longer she’s gone, the more it becomes apparent that something terrible happened to her.”
“So … what? Do you think someone killed her and tossed her body overboard?”
Rowan held her hands up and shrugged. “That’s one of the possibilities we’re entertaining.”
“What are the others?”
“She’s not at liberty to answer that question,” Quinn interjected, his gaze weighted. “Do you have another story to tell us? I’m enjoying recording them for the police because I can’t wait to play them back when we land. I think they’re going to get as good of a laugh out of the situation as me.”
“Police?” Rebecca was positively apoplectic. “I didn’t do anything!”
“And yet I don’t believe you,” Quinn said. “You’re not a very good liar. If this is any indication of your acting ability, I would suggest you don’t hold your breath while trying to nab Callisto’s spot at the top of the heap. Unless … well … is that why you killed her?”
“I didn’t kill her!” Rebecca pounded her hands on the table as she exploded. Her reaction was enough to put Quinn on alert. He didn’t like Rowan’s proximity to the woman, especially if she was about to lose it.
“Then why were you in her room?” Rowan pressed. “Don’t tell us another lie, Rebecca. It’s not going to do you any good. I can guarantee that we’ll be easier on you than the police. You might never see the outside of a cell again if you’re not careful.”
Instead of delivering a shrieking fit like he expected, Rebecca buried her face in her hands and began sobbing, catching Quinn off guard. He ex
changed a quick look with Rowan, nodding his chin to propel her to continue. It was the first break they’d had in hours.
“Tell me, Rebecca.” Rowan’s voice was gentle. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me the truth.”
“The truth?” Misery was etched everywhere when Rebecca lifted her tearstained face. “If I tell you the truth, you’ll think I’m guiltier than you already do because I had a reason to hate Callisto. I’m not guilty, for the record, but that doesn’t mean I’ve done everything right over the course of my life.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Rowan hedged.
“It means that Callisto was holding something over her,” Quinn offered, things coming together a bit. He knew he was correct by the way Rebecca jerked her head. “That’s it, isn’t it? What did she have on you?”
Rebecca had a choice. She could tell the truth and beg for mercy or continue to lie and face dire consequences. She took a leap of faith, but only because she trusted Rowan. “Callisto has been blackmailing me for three years. She’s the reason I can’t move forward in this business.”
“Okay.” Rowan licked her lips, unsure how to proceed. “What does she have on you?”
“It’s … embarrassing.”
“No more embarrassing that being arrested for Callisto’s murder,” Quinn noted. “Of course, a murder rap could steal the rest of your life.”
“I guess you have a point,” Rebecca said begrudgingly. “Okay, I’m not proud of it, but when I first started out I did a few … um … other types of movies.”
“Like what? Science fiction.” Rowan was intrigued.
“You’re so cute I can’t stand it,” Quinn muttered, shaking his head. He understood what Rebecca was referring to right off the bat. “She means porn, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” Rowan’s cheeks burned as she pressed her lips together. “Oh.”
“You’re right.” Rebecca dragged a hand through her hair as she shook her head. “She’s cute … and naive.”
“She’s definitely cute,” Quinn agreed. “How many movies did you do?”
“Three … and they were horrible. All of those stories you hear about bad productions and disgustingly filthy sets? Yeah, they’re true.”
“Why did you do it?” Rowan asked, regaining her voice.
“Because I needed money after my parents died,” Rebecca replied, not missing a beat. “I was left on my own. My mother was always a deadbeat, mind you – drugs and the like – but my father did the best he could. He was a farmer, can you believe that? He was a good man who made very little money despite working harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Rowan swallowed hard and shook her head. “What happened?”
“He died in a farm accident, something bad going down in the barn. He lost his footing and fell from the loft,” Rebecca replied, her eyes misting. “He lingered in the hospital for two days before it happened. I almost think that’s worse, because it gave me false hope.”
“I bet.”
“Once he was gone I owned the property, but I couldn’t work it so I lost everything,” Rebecca explained. “My mother died about two years before my father – not that she ever contributed to my life in any meaningful way – so all I was left with was my father’s bills. I needed money to survive.
“I’d always dreamed of being an actress,” she continued. “I always pictured myself getting an Oscar some day. I think I already told you that. Getting your foot in the door, though, isn’t easy.”
“Especially for a girl without an agent from a small town in the Midwest,” Quinn said. “I’m sure you were easy pickings for the directors when you first showed up in California.”
“That’s basically how it went down,” Rebecca confirmed. “I did three movies. It was terrible and I almost wanted to kill myself after. Then I managed to snag my first horror movie. I was almost ready to give up before that – embrace life as a waitress, you know the drill – but I finally got a job.
“It wasn’t as hard after that to move up the ranks a bit,” she continued. “I got supporting roles and then a few leading roles. I thought I would keep climbing. Apparently Callisto did, too. She was worried I would take her spot so she did some digging and came up with the movies.”
“And that’s what you were doing in her room,” Quinn surmised. “You wanted the movies.”
“She had them on her computer,” Rebecca explained. “I thought if I could erase them that I would be okay. That way, when she comes back, she won’t have anything to hold over my head again. One of her party friends had the second card to her door. Callisto gave it to her in case she lost hers while she was drunk. I stole it from the woman’s purse during dinner. I thought, by the time Callisto comes back, it would all be over with.”
“What’s to stop her from getting additional copies of the films?” Rowan asked.
“Hope, I guess.”
“I see.” Quinn exhaled heavily as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know that you’re still a suspect, right? I understand you wanted the movies – and I even understand why you’ve been cutting loose a bit now that you don’t have Callisto hanging over your head – but you have motive to kill her.”
Rebecca balked. “I would never kill anyone. That’s not in me.”
“I want to believe you but … I’m not sure I do,” Quinn said, pushing himself to a standing position. “For now, though, you’re free to return to your cabin.”
“That’s it?” Rebecca was understandably surprised. “You’re just going to let me go?”
“For now,” Quinn replied. “We don’t have a body or proof of murder. Your status might change in the upcoming days, though, so don’t get too comfortable.”
“I won’t.” Rebecca looked glum as she slipped around Rowan. “You believe me, right?”
Rowan wanted to believe Rebecca more than anything. She was just another girl who loved her father and lost him – and at almost the same age, after all – but she wasn’t sure that was possible. “I want to believe you. For now, that will have to be enough.”
QUINN WANTED TO talk to Rowan after ending the interview, but she made up a quick excuse and fled. He recognized that something shifted in her reaction at some point during the story – and he had a feeling he knew where – but she clearly wasn’t interested in sharing her inner turmoil at the present moment.
Instead he let her go, calling a meeting with his men so they could come up with a plan. He would catch up with Rowan later and force her to confide in him if necessary. For now he would give her the space she required.
Rowan knew that Quinn was concerned, but Rebecca’s story tilted her emotions in such a manner that she felt off balance. She wanted time to center herself, and that meant being alone.
The Bounding Storm was a big ship, but it was full of people. Rowan knew she could be alone in her cabin, but she also knew that was the first spot Quinn would look for her. He let her go, which was clearly against his better judgment, but that wouldn’t stop him from changing his mind … and probably quickly.
After searching her brain for a spot Quinn wouldn’t look for her, the only thing she could come up with was the gallery. It was open for stretches, but generally only after four. Since all the work had a horror bent it was designed to be perused after dark. The lighting inside had even been adjusted to give it a murky glow. Rowan knew the gallery would be closed for another couple of hours, so that’s where she headed.
She wasn’t sure her security pass would work, but she was pleasantly surprised when the light turned green and she was allowed entrance. The gallery was cool and quiet, exactly what Rowan was looking for. She found herself wandering through the aisles, paying almost zero attention to the displays as she let her agitation ooze out.
Her mind worked at warp speed, memories of her father bubbling up as she considered Rebecca’s story. She didn’t doubt it was true. She could tell by the woman’s embarrassment that she wasn’t thrilled with her early Hollywood choices and was mortified by the
thought of anyone knowing her secret. That didn’t mean Rebecca was without motive. In fact, she had the most motive of anyone. That also didn’t mean she was guilty.
Rowan scuffed her shoes against the tiled floor as she moved between exhibits, internally questioning herself regarding her need to believe Rebecca. Perhaps it was because Rowan saw some of herself in Rebecca – other than the porn, of course. Perhaps it was only because Rebecca mentioned her father being the one to take care of her and Rowan understood the feeling of loss that came with losing a parent.
Rowan simply couldn’t be sure why she felt what she felt.
“I’m making too much of this,” Rowan muttered to herself as she rounded a corner, pulling up short when she came face to face with a strange tableau. It was a sculpture of sorts, more of a horror movie prop than anything else. She was almost positive it hadn’t been there when she visited with Quinn several nights before, though.
“This is neat.” Rowan smiled when she saw the pooled fake blood on the floor, the faux body stretching across a disgusting table making it look as if someone had bled out from the throat. Rowan had to admit it was fairly impressive and almost entirely believable … except for the fact that the skin looked so waxy.
She extended a finger, poking it into the fake woman’s cheek. Even as she did it, she somehow sensed it was wrong at the last second. There was something familiar about the woman who faced away from her. The body didn’t feel as if it was made out of wax. It felt real. Cold, but real. Rowan leaned over so she could stare at the face, her heart clenching when she recognized the prominent features.
For one brief moment Rowan thought she was going to pass out. Instead she managed to keep her head long enough to stagger and fall into a wall, panic fueling her as she dug for her phone to call Quinn.
She needed him … and now.
“ROWAN!”
Quinn barreled through the gallery door, his eyes wide as he scanned in both directions. He found her standing in the middle of the room, her face unnaturally white.
“Are you okay?” Quinn tugged her to him, ignoring Andrew as his aide circled the room looking for signs of mayhem. “I could barely understand you on the phone. All I got was that you needed help in the gallery. What is it?”
Stormy Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 3) Page 15
