by Marie James
“Did you sign up for Adam’s class?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll continue to shoot some after work, but I tend to do better when the room isn’t so crowded.”
“Understandable. So I was wondering if you’d like to—”
My phone rings, cutting off my words. Pulling the thing from my pocket, I see that it’s Wren. I hit decline and look back at her, but before I can start talking, he calls again.
“What?” I snap into the phone.
“The police found Gayle.”
“Is she oka—”
“They found her body, Quinten. Deacon wants you back at the office.”
My gut sinks. We knew something was wrong, but Wren hadn’t been able to find anything on her for close to two weeks.
“Be right there,” I snap before ending the call. “I have to go to the office.”
“Have a good evening,” she says, her voice soft and understanding.
I give her hand a squeeze and leave the room. I’m not going to tell her about Gayle. News like that would only upset her, but as I climb in my truck, I realize I should’ve said something more. We won’t have another class to meet up for, and I doubt she’ll use my phone number just to chat.
I make a mental note to text her this evening, apologize for using her information for personal use, and then pray she keeps the communication open, but for right now, I need details on what happened with Gayle, and how we missed being able to help this woman.
***
“My bots weren’t set up for that!” Wren is saying when I walk into the room. “I was tracking the same stuff I did to sort the list of sign-ups. And let me remind you, that you weren’t happy when you found out I was digging that far into their private lives.”
I push through the office door to find the IT guy pacing in front of his computer. It’s clear that he’s been pulling at his hair, and the tension in the room is so thick even the bird is quiet.
“And no one is saying this is your fault,” Deacon says softly. “There’s nothing we could’ve done to prevent this from happening.”
“Did we give her a false sense of security?” Wren asks, his eyes finding mine the second I step into the room.
“I can’t answer that. She was very gung-ho about shooting. I didn’t see it going this way. I figured if anything, she was going to hurt someone else. Can you fill me in on what’s going on?”
“Gayle’s body was found at a quarry near Columbia, Illinois early this morning. She’d been beaten and then stabbed to death.”
“When?”
“Preliminary reports are saying she’s been dead over two weeks,” Deacon answers.
“So probably since we lost track of her?”
Wren nods. “I should’ve seen this coming. She’s had so many bad relationships. I had to wait until her name was released to even contact the police to give them the info I had because my research wasn’t exactly done legally.”
Deacon frowns again at his admission. “I’m not pissed because you went looking for information after she didn’t show up to class. What grinds my gears is having to find out you were doing it from the Columbia Police. I could’ve handled the call from them a little better and in a much more professional manner if I was informed. Take a breath, Wren. We’ve done all we can do. She was already gone before you started looking, and we can’t follow these women every second of their lives.”
Wren sighs, falling into his office chair so hard the thing rolls across the floor until finally coming to a stop when it bumps into his desk.
I’m informed that the police may be calling me to get information on her demeanor and such from class, and when I go home, I’m so lost in my head with having the same feeling of failure where Gayle is concerned, I don’t remember to text Hayden.
Chapter 18
Hayden
“Are we going to talk about the lies you’ve been telling or not?”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Parker’s eyes dart across the room as if she’s interested in the framed print of the mountains on my wall. Anyone else might think she’s interested in the beauty or wishing for a trip there, but I know she hates the cold, and would choose the beach over snow any day of the week.
“That’s how you want to play it? You don’t want to tell me what you’ve been doing that’s keeping you so busy that you missed the shooting classes?”
She lifts her wine glass to her lips, and for a second I think she’s going to spill.
She shakes her head, an almost imperceptive movement, and her complete silence only makes my suspicions grow even more.
“You’ve met someone.”
“I meet people all the time.”
“You’re spending time with someone,” I clarify. “Who is it? Why aren’t you talking about them?”
“I’ve been working.”
I gasp. “You’re having an affair with Mr. Williams!”
This gets her attention, her head snapping in my direction. The smile on her face is expected. “You mean seventy-three-year-old Mr. Williams?” She scoffs. “Get real.”
“His son then?” She rolls her eyes. “His grandson? Oh! Is he really good looking?”
“I’m not dating anyone from work,” she mutters.
“But you are dating someone.”
“I don’t date.”
“I hate to break it to you, but spending time repeatedly with someone is dating.”
“I’ve been working,” she repeats, and the tone of her voice tells me it’s time to drop the subject.
“Fine, but it always comes out in the wash.”
“Speaking of dirty laundry.” She smiles wide. “Did you ask Quinten out?”
It’s my turn to stare across the room.
“I’ll take that pink in your cheeks to mean yes.”
“We went for coff—water.”
“You went for water? Is that a euphemism for something really dirty?” She clasps her wine glass between her hands, holding it close to her chin as she readjusts her body on the couch to face me. It’s easy to see she’s fully invested in what I have to say and damn near delirious to listen to me gossip rather than make her own confessions.
“No euphemism. We went to a diner after class and had water. He said it was too late for coffee.”
Her eyes narrow. “He said? As in he didn’t want coffee, or he said it was too late for you to have coffee?”
“That’s a weird look,” I say pointing to her face. “Why is your face like that?”
“I’m trying to determine if him telling you what to do is hot or creepy.”
I chuckle. “I mentioned not being able to sleep well. I suggested coffee. He suggested water so it wouldn’t keep me up since it was already evening.”
Her face softens. “That is the sweetest thing. Did you invite him back for a nightcap?”
“No.” I drop my eyes.
“And this was two days ago?”
“Last week after class,” I correct.
“And this week’s class?”
“What about it?”
“Seriously? What happened after this week’s class?”
I think back to two nights ago and how quickly he had to leave. I was sure he was going to ask me out or something, but he had to rush off. I was disappointed to say the least.
“He had a work emergency. Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“There’s more to the story, and I’m trying to figure out why you won’t talk to me about it.”
“That sucks, doesn’t it?” I give her a pointed look.
“Working,” she mutters. “Now spill.”
“He came over last Saturday.” I point to the alarm panel on the wall. “He had one of the other guys from his office install the security system.”
Her eyes dart to the panel before slowly looking back at me. With each inch of rotation of her head, her smile grows. “He did what the other companies in town were too busy to do?”
I shrug as if
it isn’t a big deal, but deep down I know it is. “He said a random winner was selected from the group to win a free system. I was the lucky winner.”
“Bullshit.”
“That’s what I said.”
“The man is hot for you, Hayden. Don’t you see that?”
“He’s just doing his job, and I really think he has a savior complex. He told me about his job and how he’s responsible for crisis management and stuff.”
“Mhmm. Tell me more.”
“What’s there to tell?”
“The man was in your house, Hayden.”
“He had a coworker here with him.”
“And they both left at the same time?”
My face flames. Parker is my best friend, and I have no clue why I’m getting embarrassed talking to her about this.
“He kissed me, okay!”
She rolls her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing. “Was it a good kiss?”
“It was just like a brush. No big deal.”
“If it wasn’t a big deal then why are you as red as a tomato?”
“It’s hot in here.”
“Is not.” She chuckles. “You really like him.”
“I’ll probably never see him again.”
“You know where he works, Hayden. Just call his office.”
“I have his cell phone, but I’ll never use it, and before you grill me, he gave it to me in case I had an operation question about the security system.”
“Do you really believe that? Because I don’t see Blackbridge making a habit of giving out personal cell phone numbers.”
“It doesn’t matter. Classes are over, and I’m just going to chalk it up to a lost opportunity.”
“That’s absurd. It’s the twenty-first century. Call that man up and ask him out on a date.”
“No.”
“Then fake some sort of security system emergency.”
“Absolutely not. He’s busy. He works a lot. He said so himself, Parker. I’m not going to lie to him just to be able to see him.”
“The man is hot for you. He wasn’t able to keep his eyes off you in class. Why do you think I teased you so much about him?”
“Making obscene comments about how his ass looks in jeans, and—”
“He does have a fabulous ass.”
“I thought you were going to go after him.”
“I was trying to get you to make a move.”
“You tried to get me interested in Jude.”
Her eyes dart across the room. “Who?”
“His friend?” She gives her head another slight shake, but I get a feeling she remembers exactly who I’m talking about. The question is why is she acting as if she doesn’t? “The shy guy from the bar that came that night with Quinten.”
“If you say so. I never really wanted to date him. The man is too serious for me. I wanted you to realize you liked him.”
“There’s a difference between finding someone attractive and liking them.”
“Don’t I know it,” she mutters.
“You know I’m here if you need to talk about anything, right?”
She gives me a smile. “Things are going very well in my life. I’ve been more worried about you after the break-in than anything else.”
Way to drag down the mood.
“Things are okay. I’m sleeping a little better with the new alarm system.”
“That’s good. Are you—”
Her phone chimes with a text, but she stiffens instead of picking it up.
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
“Naw. Nothing important.”
“You sure?” Just to test her, I reach for the phone on the coffee table, and like the guilty person she is, she snatches it up before I can activate the screen.
“It’s umm—Yep. I’ve got to go.”
“To work?”
“Duty calls.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“No rest for the weary.”
“You don’t work on Saturdays,” I remind her.
“This is a different project.”
“Clearly.”
She lifts her wine glass to her lips before draining it.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Only had one glass, Mother. I’ll be fine.”
“And your boss is okay with you working after consuming alcohol?”
She grins but doesn’t answer. She knows I’m on to her.
“See you later!” She waves her hand over her head as she walks out of my house.
I follow immediately, locking the door and turning the alarm system on. I have to tap the screen twice before the thing lights up. Maybe there is a problem with the system that will require Quinten to come over here and look at it.
My phone chirps the activation notice from the kitchen counter, and although I don’t feel a hundred percent safe, I didn’t lie to Parker when I told her things were better. What I didn’t explain is that I’ve spent so much time obsessing over that kiss and working through fantasies that some nights I forget to be scared.
I wonder how long it will be before the memories of him fade completely.
Chapter 19
Quinten
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Humphrey. Thank you for following our advice.” I drop the phone back into the cradle and look at Deacon who entered my office while I was on the phone with a client.
“Another happy customer?”
“Always. What’s up?” He shrugs. “It’s Monday evening. Shouldn’t you be home with your very pregnant wife rubbing her feet or building baby furniture?”
“I’ll have you know the nursery is completely done, and Anna is with her mother this evening.”
“And how much longer does she have?”
“Two months. Well, just a little over two months.”
I smile. He doesn’t have to tell me something is off. I can feel it swarming around us in the room.
“How long are we going to make small talk before you actually get around to telling me what you came in here to say?”
He gives me a wry smile. “Have plans tonight?”
“Deacon. Come on.” I rub both hands over my face feeling tired and antsy all at the same time.
“The class went well. Thirteen graduates, and seven of them signed up for the next level class, Adam said.”
I guess that’s not bad—thirteen graduates from a class of fifteen. Parker Maxwell, Hayden’s friend, missed too many classes, and Gayle—I don’t even want to think about her, but I get a sinking feeling that she’s the reason he’s here.
“Just tell me.”
“Gayle was murdered by an ex-lover. The police used all the information Wren dug up, and the man confessed within minutes of them going to his house.”
“They caught him. That’s good news.”
“They can’t find any DNA on her body though, and his confession was made while he was stoned out of his mind. They’re not sure it will stick because he recanted once he was sober.”
“They wear body cams, so they have it recorded.”
“He also confessed to being Hitler and being in a long-term relationship with Bella from Twilight.”
“Shit,” I grumble.
“Yeah. So, we’ll just have to wait and see. I know you and Wren were looking for Gayle when she went missing, but do you have concerns for any of the other women from the class?”
I look at him unblinking, wondering what I should say.
“Not concerns,” I say eventually.
“Okay. Maybe elaborate?”
“I like one of the women that completed the class.” He stays silent, waiting me out so I’ll speak again. “Hayden Prescott.”
“The one you kicked out of class?”
I clench my jaw. “I didn’t kick her—you know what, semantics. I’ve spent a little time with her outside of class.”
“I see.”
“Are you going to jump my ass for it?”
“Class is over, Quinten. You�
��re free to do as you wish. Do you think she’s going to turn into a woman scorned and leave a bad Yelp review?”
I huff a laugh until I see that he didn’t ask the question with humor.
“Really?”
He shrugs. “BBS is a business like any other. We were trending online for the better part of a month. Hordes of people have contacted us because of that popularity, but there are also people out there that want to see us fail. I’m just wondering if there’s going to be backlash if she’s unhappy when it ends.”
“Ends? It hasn’t even begun yet.”
“Oh. I assumed… You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’re a grown man. It’s none of my business.” He looks down at his watch. “My wife is heading home, so I’m going to get out of here. Have a good night.”
“You too,” I mutter with a heavy sigh when my office phone rings. I notice it’s an internal call. “What?”
“You seem chipper,” Wren drawls through the phone. “I need to see you.”
He hangs up before I have the chance to tell him he can walk his ass down here. Of course, he doesn’t answer his damn phone when I dial him back to do just that.
I wave at Jude, Kit, Finnegan, and Brooks in the breakroom as I walk through.
“Busted, you creep!” is what I’m met with when I open Wren’s office door.
I don’t even spare the bird a glance, but Wren is typing away like a maniac on his keyboard, and it takes several minutes before he deems me worthy of his attention. I wait like I always do because we all seem to be on Wren’s schedule and not our own.
“Look,” he says when he finally spins around. He clasps his hands in a steeple and presses his fingers under his chin. “I get the appeal. I really do.”
“It’s late, Wren. I don’t have time for games.”
“As I was saying, I get it. I really do, but Whitney was into this shit.”
“I have no interest in hearing about the freaky shit you guys are into.”
Wren shakes his head. “If you don’t stop, you could end up in jail.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. I’ve done nothing to land me in jail, but he’s piqued my interest. “Is that so? Please, by all means. Go on.”
“I helped because I thought you were genuinely concerned. I wouldn’t have gotten involved had I known this is what you had in mind.”
“It’s just fucking creepy!” the bird squawks.
