“It wasn’t me!”
“If you tell me how Mark ended up dead, I can help you. Maybe we can work a deal with the DA. You tell me what happened, and the judge goes easier on the sentence.”
“I can’t tell you what happened, because I
don’t know
.”
“Then what’s with the guilty act? What were you trying to tell Kylie before she shut you up?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When you said you were a terrible brother. What did you mean by that?”
Quinn sat back down and dropped his head into his hands. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, and then he choked out, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Quinn.”
“I should have been there for her,” he said, voice muffled by his hands. “If I’d been there, none of this would have happened.”
“Been there when? Ten years ago?”
“Yes.” A choked sob seeped into his cradled hands. “I blew her off. I wanted to drink and wallow in my own self-pity, and she lost everything.” His breath started to hitch in earnest now, face firmly buried in his hands. “I’m a selfish, pathetic drunk. I was drunk then, and I was drunk this morning when . . . when . . .”
“Benny Kirkland planned to rape her, Quinn. And then he was going to kill her.”
Quinn raised his head, eyes squinted and streaming, nose running. “And you think I had something to do with that? My own sister? That’s disgusting.”
“I’ve heard about your finances, Quinn. You’re up to your eyeballs in credit card debt.”
Quinn stared at him, perplexed. “I don’t use credit cards anymore.”
“You cashed out the equity in your house three months ago. Why?”
“To help Kylie. I invested the money in the tennis center.”
That set Chase back a moment. “She’ll confirm?”
“Of course, she’ll confirm. I wanted to be a part of the project. She didn’t want to take it, but I insisted. I wanted . . . I wanted to make it up to her . . . I let her down when we were kids, and I wanted to make it up to her.”
Chase thought for a moment. The guy was convincing. But there was only one way to find out for sure if he was telling the truth. “I’m going to need a blood sample.”
Quinn gave a quick, eager nod. “Fine, whatever you need.”
50
KYLIE OPENED HER EYES TO DISCOVER THAT JANE
had stepped out while she dozed. Without a watch on, she had no idea what time it was or how long she’d slept. What was taking so damn long on the CT scan? She was tired of waiting for the all clear, especially when she could tell that she was perfectly fine. The earlier headache had backed off, and the nurse had removed the IV some time ago, declaring her sufficiently hydrated. She’d even already changed into the deep purple scrubs Jane had procured for her.
She’d just turned her head to look at the phone, considering calling Chase’s cell, when the door opened a crack and her stepmother stuck her head in.
“Is it okay to come in?”
Kylie pushed herself up and grinned. Finally, a guest she could relax with. “Sure, Mom. Come in.”
Lara walked in, her usually perfect hair windblown and showing no signs that she’d tried to tidy it. Her face was free of makeup, her blouse and slacks clean but wrinkled, as if Jane’s message about Kylie being at the ER caught her by surprise and she’d yanked on the first thing she could find.
“How’re you doing?” Lara asked as she brushed a kiss over Kylie’s cheek, lingering as though checking for a fever.
“I’m good, Mom. Don’t worry, okay?”
“I’ll always worry about my children.”
“How are
you
? The past few days have been . . .”
Lara settled onto the side of the bed and squeezed Kylie’s forearm with a cool, dry hand. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m not in the hospital.”
“I’ll be out of here in an hour or so.”
Lara skated feathery fingertips under Kylie’s chin in the vicinity of the bruise. “You poor thing. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Kylie caught her stepmother’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“I never know with you. You’ve always downplayed what hurts you.”
“Only because you worry too much.”
“No, because your father . . .” Trailing off, Lara dropped her gaze to her lap, where she smoothed her right thumb over the thin, wrinkled skin of the back of her left hand. “I should have done more.”
Kylie angled her head to see her face better, not used to such vagueness—or lack of eye contact—from this woman. “Done more about what?”
“He pushed you so.”
“Dad? He was my coach.”
“He wanted you to be a champion.”
“Yeah. So did I.”
“But it was too much pressure too young. My God, Kylie, he had you on that tennis court four hours a day on top of your schoolwork. And that didn’t count weekends.”
“I handled it, Mom. It’s what I wanted.”
“If I’d intervened, insisted he let you do other things, teen-girl things, maybe it wouldn’t have devastated you so much when it was all taken away.”
Kylie didn’t know what to say to that. It never occurred to her that that was an issue, or what those other teen-girl things would have been. She
loved
her childhood. Wouldn’t change a thing before that life-altering moment on the path. That’s where it all went awry. Where she
let
it go awry.
“I just never knew where the boundaries were,” Lara said, “or what being your stepmother meant.”
“Where is this coming from? You’ve always been a wonderful mother. I totally lucked out.”
But Lara shook her head, blond hair falling into her eyes. “I let too many things slide because you weren’t fully mine. I gave your father too much leeway to do what
he
wanted instead of insisting he do what was best for you. We often argued about that.”
“I know. I heard a couple of those battles.”
“You did? Oh, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that. You know, I hope, that none of that was your fault. You were just a child.”
“Mom—”
“I wish I could do it all over again. I would have tried to manage things better for you, with your father and between you and Quinn and Jane. I saw their resentment—how could I not?—and I had no idea what to do about it. And then when you . . . I should have tried harder to get you to come home.”
Kylie huffed out an exasperated laugh. “Geez, Mom, you want to blame yourself for global warming, too?”
As Lara looked up, eyes miserable and not amused, Kylie scooted to the edge of the bed and bumped her shoulder against her stepmother’s. “The best thing Dad ever did for me was marry you. Seriously.”
“But Quinn . . . I should have been more . . .”
“He didn’t do anything to me, Mom.”
“Of course. I know that. But he said such cruel things to you back then.”
“That’s what brothers do.”
“How will we prove his innocence?”
“Chase is a good cop, a really good cop. He’ll do the right thing.”
Lara smiled. “You love him, don’t you?”
Kylie nodded with a broad grin. “Yep.”
As if that had summoned him, the door pushed inward, and Chase strode in. He paused in midstep when he saw Kylie and Lara sitting side-by-side on the bed. “Oh. Am I . . . should I . . .”
“No, no, you’re okay,” Lara said as she and Kylie both rose. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh?” He quirked a brow at Kylie.
Lara cast him a serious, take-no-prisoners look as she went to the door. “You’ll be good to my daughter, detective, or you’ll answer to me.”
His cheeks flushed, and he straightened his shoulders as though he’d been caught slouching. “Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
Kylie laughed as he all but saluted while Lara opened the door and left them alone. “Does she scare you?”
He flashed her a sheepish grin. “A little, yeah. Always did.” He walked over and studied her with a critical eye. “You doing okay?”
She nodded and smiled as he drew her into his arms and kissed her. His lips tasted slightly of Coca-Cola, and for a long moment, she lost herself in his flavor, the beat of his heart under her hand, the heat of his mouth on hers, the faint tropical scent of his sunscreen.
When they parted, he didn’t release her, just kept holding her close, swaying a little as if a romantic tune played in his head. “Any word from the doctor?”
“Not yet. It’s kind of ridiculous, really. I’m fine.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said, lips twitching.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not just saying that.”
“No more headache?”
“It’s mostly gone. Whatever they gave me after the Tylenol worked like a charm.”
“Excellent.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then sat on the bed and drew her between his legs, where he rested his chin on her shoulder and rubbed her back with one hand.
They stayed like that for a few moments, content in the quiet, until Chase sighed. “I have a question for you. About Quinn.”
“Okay.” As she moved away from him to sit in the chair, he held onto her hand for an extra second, as though he hated the thought of letting her go.
Once she sat, he gazed at her, his head cocked. He seemed hesitant.
Sighing, she left the chair and sat beside him on the bed, letting her thigh rest snugly against his. “Just ask me,” she said. “I’m not going to get mad.”
He shifted to face her. “Quinn says he’s invested in the tennis center. Is that true?”
“Yes. I didn’t want him to, but he insisted. He used equity from his house.”
“Do you know if he’s having any financial problems?”
“About five years ago, he had some trouble with credit cards. I helped him out, and as far as I know, he hasn’t had a problem since. When the tennis project came up, he said he wanted to pay me back and refinanced his house.” Shrugging, she tucked hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell him this, but I stashed the money in a separate account. I didn’t want him to lose it if something bad happened.”
“Do you know if he’d have any reason to borrow money from a loan shark?”
“A loan shark? Are you serious?”
“Just bear with me.”
“If he needed money, I’m sure he would have come to me. I made it clear that if he ever needed what he invested back, I’d write him a check right then and there.”
Chase nodded, his forehead creased in thought.
“What’s this about?”
“Sam turned up some stuff about Quinn’s finances. Must be old information, though. I’ll ask him to check further.”
“What do Quinn’s finances have to do with any of this?”
“Sam suggested Quinn could be behind what’s been happening because of money, but it wouldn’t make sense for him to sabotage the tennis center when he’s invested in it.”
“He wouldn’t want to chase me out of town, either,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“The attacker today. He said something about trying to get me to leave town. Quinn was the one who talked me into coming back to Kendall Falls for good.”
Chase’s forehead smoothed as though something had just become clear. “That’s what wasn’t fitting. Sam suggested that kid went after you to get Quinn to pay up on a loan, but then why would he have ranted about you not getting the message to leave town?”
“Have you talked to Quinn? I’m sure he could clear all this up.”
“Yes. He showed up to see you a bit ago, and I intercepted him to ask him about some stuff our forensics team turned up.”
“How did it go?”
“I asked him to provide a blood sample.”
“And is he?”
“He seemed eager to, actually.”
As much as she believed in her brother, she still felt relieved that he wasn’t fighting Chase. “Good. That’s good.”
Chase nuzzled his nose against her ear. “How about I go rattle your doctor’s tree so I can bust you out of here?”
She leaned against him, basking in his solid warmth. “That’d be wonderful. I’m tired of the scenery here.”
His hand stroked down her arm before his fingers tangled with hers on his thigh. “Purple’s a good color for you. It makes your eyes more blue.”
She tilted her head and looked him over. “You’ve got something else to tell me, don’t you?”
“You can tell?”
“You’ve got a look.”
“Hmm, a look, huh?”
“Quit stalling and tell me.”
He took a breath. “We’re going to hole up at a house in Naples for a while. You should be safe there until this is over.”
She stilled. “I thought that since Sam killed the man . . .”
“We don’t know what, or who, connected him to you, so it’s better to be safe.”
“Makes sense.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you, you know.”
She smiled slightly, angling her head into his touch. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her, his lips warm against hers. “You don’t have to worry about anything. You know that, right? I’ll take care of everything.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re going to make me very lazy.”
“That’s my plan.”
51
THE MORNING SUN GLINTED OFF THE GULF WAVES
as Chase stood at the sliding-glass doors of the Naples safe house that overlooked a private beach. Foliage surrounded the peach stucco vacation home on three sides, dissected in front by a half-mile-long narrow, curving driveway. While he couldn’t see them, two security guards lurked among the palm, pine and jacaranda trees and shrubs that created as much privacy as anyone could want.
The house and detached garage were nothing to rave about: not even a thousand square feet with one large bedroom, living and dining rooms and a kitchen. The décor was typical Florida: ceramic tile floors and white wicker furniture with cushions sporting large flower prints in peach and pink. Easily cleaned, easily replaced, perfect for vacationers, sloppy or neat.
Chase loved how quiet it was. No traffic noises intruded on the ebb and flow of gentle waves and the back-and-forth singing of birds. The place ought to have been perfect for thinking through a difficult equation. Unfortunately, his problem—this case—had become too massive to get a handle on.