by Elle Kennedy
Quinn steered the SUV off the path and parked it near the trees, then killed the engine. The clock on the dash read ten-twelve. They’d intentionally arrived after the rendezvous time so they could be sure Jake was already there. “All right, let’s get this over with,” Quinn grumbled.
They left the car and Morgan led the way into the woods. Despite the carpet of twigs underfoot, Quinn’s boots didn’t make a sound as they walked through the brush. Years a—and the army tours before that—had taught him to blend into the shadows and keep his presence hidden until he was ready to reveal himself. Years of experience had also taught him to recognize any sign of danger, and within two minutes in the woods, he sensed they were being watched.
Morgan, on the other hand, chattered away obliviously. “Tony and I used to sneak out here when we were kids. We were convinced Grady’s dad was either in the Mafia, or else a spy for—”
“Quiet.” Quinn lifted his hand to silence her, his senses on high alert.
Morgan fell silent immediately, a nervous glint in her eyes.
He scanned the area, noticed a faint beam of light up ahead, and made out the vague shape of a small, A-frame cabin. The locale of Sheriff Wilkinson’s mysterious meeting. But the threat he sensed wasn’t coming from that direction. No, someone was in the trees, somewhere behind them. Other than the soft sound of the night air and the rustling of tree branches, the woods were silent, yet the back of Quinn’s neck tingled, signaling they had company.
As he opened his mouth to order Morgan to keep her head down, the crack of a rifle broke through the still night. Without hesitation, he launched himself at Morgan and pushed her to the cold earth, just as a bullet whizzed over their heads.
Chapter 10
Fear, combined with a rush of sheer adrenaline, slammed into Morgan’s body at the sound of the gunshot. She pressed herself to the dirt, the weight of Quinn’s body against her back both comforting and terrifying. Someone had shot at them! Still shooting, in fact, she realized as another gunshot roared in the night. A bullet connected with a nearby tree, shattering the bark and sending a branch crashing to the ground.
She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her head with her hands, praying for the shots to cease. A moment later, they did, and the woods became ominously quiet.
Morgan tried to move out of Quinn’s grip, but he held her down. “Don’t move,” he whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.
“I think it’s over,” she answered.
“Not likely,” he muttered.
He was right. Though the bullets were no longer flying above them, Morgan suddenly heard the sound of twigs breaking.
Her heart thudded against her rib cage. Whoever had shot at them was coming closer. Her panic escalated, then faded into relief when she heard a gruff voice snap, “Get off my property.”
She recognized Grady Parker’s voice instantly. The fear drained from her body like bathwater, replaced by a sharp pang of irritation. “What the hell are you doing shooting at me, Grady?” she demanded, wiggling out from under Quinn and sitting up.
Her former classmate blinked in surprise. “Morgan?”
“Yes,” she retorted as she rose to her feet.
Quinn got up, too, and she noticed him eother man with distrust. She understood his reaction. Grady Parker didn’t look like the kind of man you’d willingly hand your trust to. Tall and lean, he had sharp angular features that made him appear almost feral, pale gray eyes and a thick black beard. He wore a flannel jacket and a black ski cap, and held a long rifle in his gloved hands.
The expression on his face, however, was sheepish. “I didn’t know it was you,” he told her, as if that excused the fact he’d almost blown her head off.
“Do you shoot anybody who walks onto your property?”
Grady bristled. “The signs are here for a reason. I don’t like trespassers.”
Unlike most of the other people in town, he didn’t speak to her in a tone reserved for mental patients. Although they hadn’t been friends in high school, Morgan had always been pleasant to the eccentric loner, and he’d remembered that kindness over the years. A couple of years ago, when she was home for a visit, they even shared a cup of coffee at Jessie’s Restaurant.
But gunfire wasn’t part of their tentative acquaintanceship.
“Well, maybe find out who’s trespassing before you start shooting,” she shot back. “You could have killed us.”
Suspicion filled his gaze. “Why are you trespassing?” He glanced at Quinn in distaste. “And who’s he?”
“This is Quinn, my…” She faltered, then said, “A friend of mine. And we’re not trespassing. We’re here to see Jake,” she lied.
Grady’s fuzzy black eyebrows soared. “He knows you’re coming?”
“Of course.” She avoided Quinn’s eyes. No doubt he was sporting a look of supreme disapproval. “Though I’m not sure why he said to come to this cabin. Does he use it often?”
Something resembling amusement crossed Grady’s gray eyes. “Often enough,” he replied, his lips twitching. He paused, tilting his head. “Are you sure he told you to meet him here?”
“Yep,” she said smoothly.
“Huh. All right. I’ll walk you over there then.”
Grady tucked his rifle under his arm and moved in the direction of the cabin, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were following. Morgan stepped after him, but Quinn locked his hand on her arm and forced her to pull back.
“What the hell are you doing?” he muttered. “Jake has no idea you’re here, and he’s not going to appreciate you following him.”
“I couldn’t tell him we were spying on the sheriff,” she hissed back, shrugging his hand away. “Just go with it.”
Quinn didn’t answer. She could tell he was ticked off, but she ignored the stormy look in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking—they’d planned on hiding in the woods and spying on Jake to see who he met with, and now that plan had gone to hell, and Quinn wasn’t happy. But what other choice did they have? She hadn’t planned on getting caught by Grady, or confronting Jake tonight, but bo those items were obviously on the agenda and they would just need to adjust.
“So, uh, how are you doing?” Grady asked, shooting her a curious look over his shoulder. “I heard about the accident.”
“I’m fine.” She shrugged. “You know me, nothing keeps me down for long. Not even a trip to the bottom of the river.”
Grady’s harsh feature softened. “Layla’s service was tough, huh?”
She swallowed. “Yeah, it was.”
“She was such a nice girl,” he said. “I hope they find the son of a bitch who killed her.”
That’s why I’m here.
She kept her thoughts to herself, instead nodding in agreement and ducking under the branch Grady held up for her. He let the branch go just as Quinn approached, nearly clocking the other man in the head, but Quinn’s wilderness survival skills far surpassed Grady’s. He moved under the branch swiftly, not even breaking his stride.
The trees thinned out, and the trio stepped into a small clearing, where a log cabin, not unlike the one Morgan had once shared with Quinn, sat on a patch of dead grass. The large window at the front of the cabin was lit up like Christmas Eve, a pale yellow glow seeping through the dark curtains. And the narrow front door gaped open, revealing the bulky frame of Autumn’s sheriff, who’d obviously heard the gunshots and come out to investigate.
Jake charged down the rickety porch steps when he spotted them entering the clearing. His dark eyes burned with anger. “What the hell are you doing here?” he spat out, glaring at Morgan, then Quinn.
Grady swiveled his head at her. “I thought you said he was expecting you.”
Morgan offered a sheepish smile. “I may have exaggerated a little.”
Despite her admission of a lie, Grady seemed unperturbed. Instead, he shrugged and said, “I’ll let you three hash this out. I’ve got soup on the stove in the big house.” Still
holding his rifle, he walked off in the direction they’d come from, leaving Morgan and Quinn alone to face Jake’s wrath.
The sheriff looked absolutely livid, but there was also an odd glimmer of embarrassment in his eyes, which should have sparked her curiosity if she weren’t far too distracted by his attire. Or lack of.
Jake was bare-chested.
Huh. If he were meeting an accomplice, why on earth would he take off his shirt?
Realization dawned at the precise moment another figure filled the open doorway of the cabin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Morgan muttered.
“Jake?” Beth Greenwood descended the porch wearing nothing but tiny black shorts and a skimpy pink camisole that clashed horribly with her red hair. “What’s going on?”
Beth’s green eyes darkened the moment she spotted Morgan. “What is she doing here?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Jake muttered. He gave Morgan a harsh scowl. “Well?”
“We followed you,” she said with a shrug.
Her words brought another turbulent flash to Jake’s eyes, but it was nothing compared to how he’d look if she admitted they broke in to his office and eavesdropped on his phone call. A phone call she’d totally misinterpreted.
“You followed me,” he echoed. He faltered. “That’s impossible. I never saw a tail.”
Quinn offered a pleasant smile. “What can I say? I’m good.”
Jake sneered at the other man, then bestowed the same gift on Morgan. “I can arrest you for this,” he told her. “This is harassment.”
“You’re not going to arrest us,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you do, tonight’s activities will come to light, and I doubt you want that to happen.” She shot a pointed look at Beth’s scantily clad figure.
Beth placed her hands on her curvy hips, her gaze hurling daggers at Morgan. “What is your problem?” she demanded. “Why do you have to be such a nosy bitch?”
Morgan didn’t flinch at the insult. “I’m just trying to figure out who killed my friend. Is that so hard to grasp?”
“Finding the killer is my concern,” Jake snapped. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, his massive pecs flexing.
“And you’re doing a lousy job of it,” she shot back. “Instead of investigating, you’re holed up in this love shack with a married woman. Does Travis know about this?”
Beth paled at the mention of her husband. “He doesn’t,” she said coolly. “And if you say a single word to my husband, I will kill you.”
Jake silenced Beth with a grim look. “Stop,” he ordered. “It’s pointless flinging threats at each other.” His voice suddenly sounded strained. “Seriously, Morgan, what do you want?”
“I want to find the truth,” she said simply. “And I don’t want you standing in my way.”
He frowned. “And I suppose if I tried to stop you, you’re going to tell everyone what you saw tonight?”
Swallowing, he glanced over at Beth, and Morgan was stunned by the tenderness in his eyes. Oh, brother. Was Jake actually in love with her? Didn’t he know that he was most likely just another notch in Beth’s already very long belt?
Jake must have caught the sympathy in her eyes because he let out a sigh. “We’ve been seeing each other for five years.”
The revelation sent her eyebrows soaring to her hairline.
“Travis has no idea,” he continued, “and we intend to keep it that way.”
To Morgan’s surprise, Beth’s green eyes filled with tears. “He’s got a heart condition, and this would destroy him.” She gulped a few times, obviously fighting back sobs. “He began to suspect a few years ago, so I tried to divert his suspicion by starting some rumors about me and, um, other men. The rumors were so ridiculous, even Travis couldn’t believe them, and he thinks Jake was a rumor, too.”
Morgan gave her former classmate an incredulous look. “You mean you spread all those rumors that you were getting involved with every man who passed through town?”
Beth’s voice sounded very small, and very wistful. “I couldn’t let Travis find out about Jake. Travis and I have three children together. We have a history.” She sighed. “But we haven’t been in love since high school.” Beth looked over at Jake, her eyes shining with adoration. “Jake is the only man I love now.”
A spark of guilt burned a hole in Morgan’s belly. Next to her, Quinn was utterly expressionless. He had barely said a word all night, save to voice his disapproval over her impulsive plans, and she suddenly wished they’d done things his way tonight. It felt wrong, witnessing Jake and Beth’s unmistakable affection for each other, and with Jake’s eyes so gentle and soft as he looked at Beth, he suddenly didn’t look like a killer.
Morgan drew in a breath. “Did you kill Layla?” she finally asked, her quiet question directed at the sheriff.
He met her eyes, holding the gaze for a long moment. “No, I did not kill Layla.”
His voice held a note of conviction and truth, which made Morgan release the breath she’d been holding. Damn it. He wasn’t lying to her. She had a sixth sense when it came to these types of things, and right now, she was convinced Jake Wilkinson had nothing to do with her best friend’s murder. The secret he’d hinted about during the phone call…he’d been trying to hide his affair with Beth. Not his role in Layla’s death.
Which meant this entire night had been nothing but a wild-goose chase. Not to mention a grave invasion of privacy.
“Will you let me dig around to see if I can figure out who did?” she asked.
Jake’s stocky chest heaved as he let out a heavy breath. “Morgan, I wasn’t lying to you when I said I’ve been investigating. But there’s nothing to find. The case is too cold. There are no suspects. No evidence. Nothing.”
“Maybe so, but I’d like to find out for myself.”
Jake’s hand slid down to grasp Beth’s, his fingers tightening over hers. “Will you keep this to yourself if I give you my okay?”
She would have kept their relationship to herself regardless, but she nodded anyway. “Yes. I promise.”
“Then fine,” he said briskly. “Dig around. But I guarantee you won’t find anything. I don’t think we’ll ever know who killed her.”
“Maybe,” she said again. “Maybe not.”
A short silence fell, broken by the sound of the wind hitting the metal shutters on the cabin’s front window. There was a chill in the air, bringing goose bumps to Morgan’s body and making her realize it was getting late.
“We should go,” she said to
He nodded in stony agreement.
She glanced at Beth and the sheriff. “I’m sorry we intruded on you two tonight.” Her voice cracked. “But Layla was…she was important to me. I need to know what happened to her.”
To her complete shock, Beth reached out and lightly squeezed her arm. “You’ll figure it out,” the redhead said, her voice unexpectedly reassuring and lacking all its usual venom.
Morgan met the other woman’s eyes and cleared her throat. “Thanks, Beth. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She turned to Jake. “If my father calls you…”
Jake wrapped one bare arm around Beth’s slender shoulders. “I’ll assure him you’re not interfering with the investigation and say there’s no pressing need for you to return to Washington.”
Relief coursed through her. “Thank you.”
“Do you believe him?” Morgan asked as they drove away from Grady Parker’s property and headed home.
Quinn nodded. “I don’t think he killed Layla.”
A sigh rolled out of her throat. “Yeah, I don’t think so either. Which means we need to come up with a new suspect. Let’s go over the case file again when we get back.”
“Sure.” Quinn kept his gaze on the dark road ahead, nonchalantly adding, “And maybe we can also discuss your complete disregard for your own safety.”
The remark was meant to be casual, but the moment he said it, the memory of what happe
ned back there in the woods assaulted his brain. The hiss of the bullet as it shot past Morgan’s head, the feel of her small body beneath his, fragile, vulnerable. She could have died. If the person who’d run her off the bridge had been in the woods tonight instead of Grady, she would have died.
The fear crawling around in his chest made his lips tighten. Damn it. This was precisely why he’d originally wanted to tell the senator to go to hell when he asked for Quinn’s help. He didn’t want to worry about Morgan. Because of her impulsive nature, he’d done a lot of worrying when they were together, always on edge when she took on a particularly risky assignment. World at Large was tame as far as magazines went, the journalists on staff usually focusing on the political scene and the occasional human interest piece. But not Morgan—she always chased the dicey stories, the ones that sent her headfirst into danger.
He knew a part of it had to do with proving herself. Hell, she’d only gotten the job because a friend did her a favor, and she’d spent years trying to show the editors she was more than the flighty daughter of a senator. So she took risks. Sometimes they paid off. Other times…
Quinn was suddenly tempted to reach across the seat and shake some sense into her. “What if Grady shot you?” he burst out. “I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea following Jake tonight, and instead of listening, you charge into the situation blind, and get us shot at.”
She seemed unperturbed by his harsh tone. “Grady wasn’t aiming to kill. He just wanted to scare what he believed were trespassers.” She raised one dark blond eyebrow. “And don’t tell me you haven’t been shot at dozens of times before tonight.”
“I have,” he agreed, “but I’m trained for this kind of thing. You, on the other hand, aren’t. If I hadn’t pushed you down, you would have stood there, chattering away, while a bullet connected with your forehead…” He trailed off suddenly, slightly frazzled by the thickness of his voice, the raw note of distress that Morgan would certainly pick up on.
And she did. Sucking in a breath, she stared at him in surprise. “You were concerned about me. Scared for me.” Wonder lined her tone.