Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “That explains a lot. Where was her mother during all this?”

  Kit sighed. “Oh, Reese. Her mother ended up marrying Tyler’s record producer. Quinn ended up moving here the summer before she started third grade. She was eight. But the marriage between Ross Jennetti and Ella Canyon lasted about as long as it took for the ink to dry on the license, no more than two years for sure. And then her mother took off, leaving Quinn here while she went in search of herself or whatever it is she does.”

  “Her mother left her with the stepfather and just took off? You’re kidding?”

  “I wish I were. From third grade on, Quinn lived in Jennetti’s house, a strange man who didn’t much like kids. But at least he gave her a place to stay and let her continue going to school here, knowing she couldn’t count on her mother for stability. That’s something, I guess.” Kit left it at that. She bit her lip to keep from saying any more about Ross Jennetti, knowing she’d said too much already.

  “Her mother left her with this guy? For how long?”

  Opened up that door, didn’t you? Kit blew out a breath. “She came back for visits at Christmas. Sometimes.”

  Reese narrowed his eyes. “This is a joke. You’re putting me on.”

  “No, Reese. I’m not. I really hope you won’t give up on her. Quinn happens to be a terrific person who loves children. After her residency, she wants nothing more than to become a pediatrician, open up a clinic. Ask her about it sometime.”

  Reese allowed himself another long look at Quinn. She was a woman with a prickly veneer. Why the hell she intrigued him was anyone’s guess.

  When Jake announced the steaks and burgers were done, everyone except Dylan and Baylee ambled over to the tables and dug into the food. As soon as Kit realized Baylee wasn’t going to leave Dylan, she piled two plates high with a couple of burgers and walked over, handing them off to Baylee. “You can put her down, you know,” Kit jokingly told Dylan, as she pointed to the port-a-crib they’d set up under one of the ancient oaks.

  “That’s what I told him, but he’s afraid of waking her up.”

  Dylan hungrily eyed the food, but tried to play it cool. “It’s no trouble holding her. I hate to wake up a sleeping baby.”

  “Well, you two need to eat,” Kit told him, as she reached down and gathered the sleeping infant into her arms.

  Making the transfer without waking up Sarah, Kit cradled her on her shoulder. “I’ll hold her while you two go eat.” She winked at Dylan and said, “You can’t hog her all afternoon, you know. You have to share. And remember, I’m available to babysit anytime she runs you two ragged.” She turned to Baylee. “I miss having you and Sarah at the shop.”

  “Now that I’m settled in at Dylan’s, I could start back tomorrow if you want.”

  Kit looked uncomfortable. She and Jake had talked about Baylee making the trip every day back and forth to San Madrid and decided it might be asking for trouble. Knowing Collin had used that tactic to run Kit’s Jeep off the PCH, they didn’t want to take the chance it might happen to Baylee.

  “Let’s give it another couple of days before you come back to work, to try and gauge Connor’s intent. That late night phone call isn’t a good sign he’s giving up.” She saw the disappointment come into Baylee’s eyes. “It’ll just be for a couple more days. We just want to make sure he doesn’t pay you a surprise visit and see Sarah.” Holding the baby, Kit motioned to the plates she’d fixed. “Now both of you eat. There’s enough food over there to feed a small army.”

  Jake watched Kit from twenty feet away. If it were possible, he fell in love with her just a little bit more. The woman had the sweetest nature of any woman he knew. Thank God she had come back to him safely. His hands fisted without even realizing it when he remembered how Kit had looked, bruised and battered, after Collin and his two thugs had pushed her Jeep off the road. She’d spent five days in the hospital. The memory reminded him of how close he’d come to losing her. There was only one man left standing who was responsible for hurting her. Jake intended to see the bastard locked up if it was the last thing he did.

  He hadn’t mentioned the e-mail he’d received that he hadn’t been able to trace. At the first opportunity, he intended to tell Reese and Dylan, and get their take. He just didn’t want Kit finding out and adding something else to the list of worries she had to deal with now.

  As the group finished their meal, they kicked back and lazily watched the sun dip low on the horizon over the glistening, choppy water. They took pleasure in the fiery pink sunset and watched as the harbor lights from San Madrid twinkled to life in the distance.

  Dylan conned Jake into helping him gather wood to build a bonfire, finding plenty of dry timber near the line of trees at the back of the house. But it took them close to thirty minutes to construct a makeshift fire pit with enough wood for a good fire that had any chance at lasting a couple of hours, at least until they called it a day and went inside.

  When Baylee saw what they were doing, she gave them both a thumbs-up. “Can’t have a picnic without a bonfire at the end of the day. Way to go, Surfer Boy.”

  When Sarah started to whimper in the Pack ’N Play, Dylan stopped what he was doing, ready to go over to the baby. But Baylee held up a hand and said, “You keep going. I’ll get her. She’s wet is all, needs changing.”

  After retrieving Sarah, she headed off in the direction of the house to get a dry diaper, and met up with Reese near the deck. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all day. I’d like for you to draw up a waiver or something that says I won’t hold Dylan financially responsible for Sarah’s support in the future. He needs to know that I won’t try to collect child support or anything like that.”

  Reese stared at the woman, wondering why she looked so different today and then realized it was the hair. “That’s admirable, Baylee, but I don’t think we need to put it in writing. I know Dylan isn’t worried about it.”

  “But you are. You don’t like loose ends hanging out there that might come back to bite Dylan in the ass later.” When he started to say something, she quickly added, “I don’t blame you for that. As his lawyer, it’s your job to watch out for him. That’s why I’d like for you to put it in writing. If you’ll draw up the necessary paperwork using whatever words you want to use, send it over to his house, I’ll sign it so he won’t be on the hook, financially.”

  “I’m not sure how Dylan will take that.”

  “You and I both know it’s for his own protection. It would make me feel better about him doing this.”

  Quinn sauntered up beside Baylee and said rather bluntly, “Is the barrister here giving you a hard time because he couldn’t talk his friend out of that birth certificate thing?”

  Baylee simply turned to look at Quinn and gave her a hard stare. “What has you in such a pissy mood today? Is it that thing that happened with Cade? You need to make sure hospital security doesn’t drop the ball like that again and leave you vulnerable.”

  Quinn’s bad temper plummeted. “I had a four-year-old kid die on me today.”

  Baylee and Reese eyed each other as if trying to decide which tack to take. It was Reese who blurted out, “Maybe if you talk about it you might lose some of that gigantic chip on your shoulder.”

  Quinn dropped down on the steps and told them the minute she’d seen the little girl she’d known it was too late to save her. “But despite her condition, I did everything I’d been trained to do to try to bring her back. It was just too late. I had to go out to the waiting room and look those parents in the eye and tell them their four-year-old daughter was gone. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  “But think about all those others you’ve saved or will save, Quinn,” Baylee told her, as she let her free hand rest on Quinn’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that happened. It was a terrible thing, tragic. But you owe Reese an apology.”

  Baylee went around and sat on the step next to Quinn, settling the baby on her lap. “Dylan did a wonderful thing for me and
for Sarah. Putting his name on that birth certificate might not have been the smartest thing he’s ever done, but he didn’t do it without acting on the advice of his attorney and friend. Reese did what any attorney, and for that matter, what any friend should do, he counseled him to do what was best for him. In the end, Dylan made up his own mind, came to a decision that benefited me and Sarah. And I’m grateful. But that’s what friends do, Quinn. They stand up and say ‘don’t do this.’ And you should know that better than most. I’m sorry you’re hurting because of that little girl. But you knew when you decided to be a doctor there would be times when you wouldn’t be able to save everyone.”

  Baylee got to her feet. “We talked about that, remember?” And with that she disappeared inside the house, leaving the new res feeling churlish.

  When she’d gone, Quinn grumbled, “Well, she told me. She may be tiny, but she’s pretty good at kicking my ass every now and again when I need it. She’s right. I’m sorry for being so rude. I’ve had a bad couple of days. That’s no excuse, of course, but…”

  “Well gee, let me circle this day on the calendar; Quinn Tyler just used the S word.”

  “Oh, shut up. I just don’t like lawyers.”

  Now that he knew why, he could tease her about it. “Lawyers in general or me in particular?”

  “You’re all right, I guess. You aren’t completely without merit. You helped Kit out with St. John when she needed you. I’m grateful for that.” She changed the subject. “Is that your hybrid parked behind Dylan’s weird-looking Benz?”

  “It is. I know Cade came to see you. Are you okay?”

  Dylan must have blabbed. “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look fine; she looked exhausted, which prompted Reese to tease, “Want me to go beat him up?”

  She laughed and it transformed her whole demeanor. “Would you?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve come to blows with anyone, but I can certainly try.”

  Gloria listened as Quinn and Reese finally managed a civil conversation with one another without any sniping. She noted the longer the two of them talked the more Quinn’s black mood lifted. She smiled. That was progress.

  Now that it was getting dark, Gloria decided to light the tiki torches they’d placed around the yard. When she heard Kit’s laughter, she looked over at her daughter wrapped up in Jake’s embrace. The sheer wonder of it made Gloria’s chest swell with the love only a mother could feel. Through it all, she realized how lucky she was that Kit wasn’t angry with her, didn’t hate her, wasn’t even bitter about the kind of childhood she’d had.

  Such a blessing, Gloria thought as she lit another torch. She glanced at the house that Kit and Jake planned to live in for a lifetime. She took in the growing night sky, the view from the cliff, and realized this spot would be perfect for an outdoor wedding. The image of Kit wearing a long white dress surrounded by Baylee and Quinn filled Gloria’s mind as vividly as if the scene were happening before her. Enjoying the image of Kit’s wedding, she wanted to remember that she had three girls who needed her now. She intended to be there for all of them.

  And she wished Jake could find the son she’d never seen. Her eyes filled with tears at the profound loss of losing her twins. She felt cheated. After all the years she’d thought she possessed some psychic ability, the joke apparently was on her. Some psychic she turned out to be, she thought miserably. She hadn’t even known she’d had a son. As she squeezed the tears from her eyes, she knew one thing for certain. There were tough times ahead. She could feel it in the air.

  But then she didn’t need psychic powers to know the Boyd sons were not finished with them yet. She might not be able to tell Jake where to find her own son, Ben Griffin, but she intended to use everything else inside her to make sure the three women she consider her girls stayed safe.

  CHAPTER 14 Book 2

  Thirty minutes later, when the first blast of fireworks speared the night sky and lit up the San Madrid harbor, it was tough to say who squealed the loudest, Kit, Baylee, or Quinn. But it was Quinn who took off like a shot to stand at the edge of the cliffs to get a better view, telling her friends, “Come on, hurry up; you’ll miss all the good ones.”

  Kit dragged Gloria to her feet, laughing at Quinn’s enthusiasm, and both women followed her toward the cliffs. But when Kit noticed Baylee hanging back, struggling to make it up the hill carrying the infant carrier with Sarah tucked inside, she ran back, hefted it up and transported the baby the rest of the way.

  After settling down on the ground, Baylee took a few moments to gaze at the sleeping baby nestled in her seat with her thumb in her mouth. Watching her daughter, a peace settled over her.

  As she craned her neck skyward, taking in the show, she thought of how happy she was at the moment in spite of everything. She and Dylan were on better footing since Saturday. Here was a man she thought she could talk to, confide in.

  She took her eyes off the show long enough to glance back over her shoulder at him, then watched as her friends enjoyed themselves. These people were her family. She wasn’t going to think about anything worrisome tonight. She’d take pleasure in the fact that the people she loved were snuggled in around her, at least for the night.

  While the women sat on the cliffs going ape over the fireworks, the guys hung back near the bonfire, never moving from their beach chairs, and cracked open another round of beers. This was the perfect time to finish their conversation from earlier, the one Kit had interrupted.

  “There’s something I need to tell you guys.” Jake’s tone of voice had Reese and Dylan turning in their chairs to give him their undivided attention.

  “I got an e-mail Saturday morning. Sent anonymously. At least I haven’t been able to trace it yet. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

  Dylan leaned over in his chair. If Jake couldn’t trace it, no one could. “Okay. I take it this wasn’t your usual spam.”

  “No. The sender said that if I’m curious about who killed Claire, I should find out where Connor Boyd was the morning she was killed.”

  Shock registered on Dylan’s face. “Jesus. Do you think someone’s just messing with you because of everything that’s happened?”

  “That occurred to me. But you know I always suspected something, something I never shared because it seemed too crazy, too implausible. But now, I’ve been doing a lot thinking back. Do you remember that party at The Enclave on Memorial Day about four years back? They called it the Boyd Bash. Claire and Connor were awfully chummy that day. I remember late that afternoon Claire disappeared for a couple of hours. When I went to look for her, I found her coming out of the cabana house. Didn’t think much about it until I started going over that day in my head. That day, Connor followed her out. I never said anything until now. It’s funny how you remember things when you have a reference point. It may sound crazy, I might just be grasping at straws, but I think the e-mail is legit. Of course, I know I’ll need more before I pay St. John a visit.” Max St. John was the bulldog detective that had gone after Jake relentlessly soon after Claire’s murder.

  “You want me to put Donovan on it?”

  “Yeah, I have something specific in mind. And then I need a meeting with Max St. John. Bring Holloway in on it if you can. I want you to set it up.”

  “Uh-uh. Not a chance, Jake. Not without your attorney present. You don’t go near that man unless I’m there.”

  “Okay. But I want to know what evidence he has, Reese. I want to know what the son of a bitch has been sitting on for two fucking years. If the police are so reluctant to look at these high-powered people as suspects, we’ll have to go around them or through them. One way or another, I want a meeting set up with St. John. I intend to apply my own pressure.”

  “I’ll see if I can get him to give us some specifics beforehand. But don’t hold your breath.”

  Dylan was curious. “What exactly are you looking for from St. John?”

  “You didn’t see Claire’s bedroom that night, Dylan.” He ru
bbed his temple. The memory of what he’d seen inside that room would stay with him for some time. “Someone went ballistic in there that day. There was a fight. And I believe Claire fought back, in fact, I know she did. That means there has to be blood evidence, DNA, something the killer left behind at the crime scene, under her fingernails, something concrete they can use to identify her killer.”

  Dylan and Reese exchanged looks. But it was Dylan who said, “When it comes time, how about we all pay St. John a visit? You know, if you’re right. All it would take is a DNA sample from Connor Boyd to link him to the murder. We could work on that if St. John would cooperate. What I want to know, though, is who sent you that e-mail? Why now? Why not two weeks after it happened rather than two damn years?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. And one I intend to work on. Look guys, I don’t want you mentioning this to Kit. She has enough to worry about without wondering if I’m opening up a new can of worms. Plus, if Connor were responsible that just makes it―a more dangerous situation for Baylee. And remember, St. John isn’t exactly thrilled about clearing Kit in Alana’s murder. The guy could still make it tough on her. I want all of this behind us so we can move forward.”

  Reese blew out a breath. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened. It just keeps getting more bizarre by the minute.”

  “Talk about bizarre, there’s something I’ve stumbled on that’s pretty strange too, and believe it or not, it involves Alana and Jessica. It’s about Baylee’s mother.”

  Dylan proceeded to outline what convinced him Sarah Moreland never ran off with any tennis pro, including William’s weird behavior every time Baylee was within earshot. “And I found out from Tanya that at one time William’s personal attorney was Jessica Boyd. Not to mention William directed Alana in three different films, including one with Sarah. That means they all knew each other.”