Calder pulled away, sliding out of bed and going to his sports coat where it lay on the floor. He picked it up and took a piece of paper from an inside pocket. He came back to the bed and held it out to Quinn.
“Someone from the party posted this picture on Instagram. Why I didn’t think to look there first, I don’t know . . . I should have and that’s my bad.”
Quinn studied the picture, shocked to see herself talking to Julien in front of the house where the party had taken place. There were a few other people in the front yard, all she recognized but only a few she knew by name. She and Julien weren’t the focus of the picture, but off to one side. But there was no doubt in her mind that was Julien.
“A witness pointed me to the picture.”
“A witness?”
“The nurse who convinced you to go to the party in the first place. She’s actually been quite helpful.”
“Rena? She’s a sweet woman.”
Calder nodded, but there seemed to be a little hesitation in it. “Did you know that this man is in town right now? He’s staying at a hotel not far from the hospital.”
“Why? My father’s in California, I think.”
“He’s low-key campaigning in New York.”
Quinn nodded, not surprised she didn’t know definitively where her father was. “Julien is always with him when he’s traveling.”
“Not now. Does that tell you anything?”
“It tells me I should watch my back.”
Calder took the photo from her and set it on the bedside table, and then he lay back beside her. “I think this Julien character has been keeping tabs on you for your father and happened to stumble on the information about Morgan’s disciplinary hearing. I think he decided to take advantage of it, contacting Morgan and concocting this insane plan. They force you to kill Kaden, then drug you so that when the cops knock on the door, it appears as if you had a drunken night and decided to take out revenge on your former lover. But they didn’t count on the drug wearing off so fast, and they didn’t plan on you fighting the charges as hard as you did.”
“You think the shots fired at me downtown was them panicking?”
“I don’t know if they’d panicked, or if it was part of the original plan, or if it was a little of both. But I think it was a mistake on their part because I was about to dump this case and move on to something else when it happened.”
“You were?”
“You looked very guilty,” he said, brushing the side of her face. “But then they shot at you, and my suspicion that there was someone else in the car with you that night took root.”
“Was there someone else in the car?”
“Only a hand and a gun can be seen no matter how much we blow up the footage from the traffic cam, but I’m pretty sure it was Julien Simpson.”
Quinn sat up, a rush of outrage burning through her. “Asshole,” she cried.
Calder laughed a little as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “We’re going to end this. I promise.”
“How do we prove it?”
“First, I’ve already contacted the district attorney. Not that bitch running your case, but the district attorney himself with the photograph we took from the traffic cam footage. He’s agreed to drop the case if you agree to testify against Simpson.”
“No problem. I just can’t remember anything.”
“I already explained that to him. He said it was fine, all he’d need you to testify to would be your relationship with Simpson and what might have motivated him to do what he did.”
“That’s easy. He always hated Kaden. And the fact that Kaden was about to run for political office was just adding insult to injury. He wanted him gone.”
“Good.”
“And Dr. Morgan?”
“Once Simpson’s arrested, I think proving Morgan was in on the plan will be quite easy. Simpson won’t want to go down alone.”
Quinn twisted in his arms and kissed him. “Thank you, Calder.”
“That’s the second time you’ve thanked me.”
There was amusement in his eyes as he ran his hand slowly down the length of her back. She suddenly became aware of her nudity, shocked at how easy it was to share it with him. She’d never felt that easy with her scars herself, let alone with another person. What was different about him?
But then she saw it in his eyes. As hard as it was to believe it, she could see the affection there, the honesty and the desire. The trust. She’d never seen reflected at her from anyone else’s eyes. And she’d never found it so easy to feel those things herself. She never trusted anyone, never trusted that other people wouldn’t hurt her, that they wouldn’t let her down. It was part of what made her a good doctor because she insisted on doing everything herself, on making sure everything was done to perfection. It pissed people off, but she had a 99 percent success rate. She was damn good at what she did.
She’d never made herself vulnerable in front of another person. But, she realized, she had with Calder.
“What is it about you that makes it so easy to trust you?” she asked with wonder in her voice. “Why do I feel like I’ve known you all my life?”
“Because you have.” He kissed her softly. “You were as obsessed with me and my family as I was with yours, for the same reason. Andi.” He was quiet for a minute, his eyes drifting down even as he pressed his forehead to hers. “She brought us together. A last gift from my sister.”
He choked up a little as he spoke.
She lifted his head and kissed him again. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered.
“How could I? I love you.”
Chapter 19
Springfield, Illinois
Durango Masters’ Home
Durango had pictures and documents spread out over his living room floor. He’d gone to his storage unit and pulled out all the evidence he’d managed to squirrel away from the department before he quit that had anything at all to do with the Harrison Strangler. He’d used them to try to figure out who Sarah’s killer had been, but he never managed to finger a real suspect. But now there were two more murders and a new location. If he could find a suspect who was still alive, out of jail and now living in this area, he might find his killer.
He needed to find the killer.
He’d been studying the pile of paper since the night before, making notes and reviewing the same items over and over again. His eyes were seeing things that weren’t there because he’d been staring at the same things so much. But he had to figure this out.
He needed his life back.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Gracie, of the uncharacteristic anger she’d shown when she was here last. Billy declaring that she was clearly not his type had pissed him off for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand. Was it because he wanted her to be his type, or was it because he didn’t want to be so easily categorized. Or was it because that only added to the guilt for the deaths of the women close to him, the women the strangler went after because of him?
He hated that Sarah and Kyle were killed because of him. And Hyde. He hadn’t known her well, but he liked what he did know. He hadn’t wanted her to die. He hadn’t even wanted to hurt her that night, he’d simply wanted to feel . . . just fucking feel something for once.
He missed Sarah. He’d never imagined he’d ever feel so strongly about another human being, that a woman could take over everything that mattered in his life. But she had. Just like his mother, she’d been his whole world and when she was taken from him, he was destroyed.
Was that how his father had felt?
He didn’t want to sympathize with Jackson, but his words burned into his head. Had Jackson really felt as devastated as Durango had felt when Sarah died? Had he really loved his mother as much as Durango loved Sarah? Was Jackson even capable of that kind of love?
Durango had always doubted it. But after the things Jackson had said, things Durango had never really heard before, he was beginning to wonder.
; If so . . .
Fuck! He didn’t want to sympathize with the man he blamed for his mother’s death.
Durango stood and went to the kitchen, yanked open the liquor cabinet door. He reached for the sherry, but remembered the look on Gracie’s face when he’d done it in front of her, remembered the words she’d said to him.
Self-destructive, she’d called him.
Was he? Was all this his fault for reasons beyond his connection to the strangler?
Was he bringing this shit down on his own head?
He pulled the sherry from the cabinet and poured it down the drain. He was done. No more.
He had to stay focused. He had to figure this out. He had to find this killer before anyone else died.
Why did Gracie’s face always pass through his mind when he thought of the killer’s next potential target?
Fuck!
Chapter 20
Springfield, Illinois
Quinn Naylor’s Home
Quinn sat in front of the television and watched the news unfold right in front of her. They were at the Regent Hotel downtown, marching Julien Simpson out in cuffs.
She couldn’t believe it was really happening.
She wished Calder was there to share that moment with her, but he was at the district attorney’s office, presenting him with the affidavit Quinn had written up by her new lawyer that morning. The same lawyer, a lady who’d just started her own firm downtown, was, at that moment, at the hospital with documents from the district attorney’s office showing that all charges had been dropped against Quinn, demanding that she be given her privileges back. Quinn knew it was only the first step in rebuilding her reputation, but she believed she’d get it all back. But it would be different this time.
There was Calder now.
After he told her he loved her last night, she hadn’t known what to say. No one had ever said those three words to her and truly meant it before. But she knew he meant it, there was no doubt in her mind.
Just like she knew she felt the same way. But saying it was the hardest thing she’d ever tried to do. It would be a while before she could. For the time being, he’d have to be content with the fact that he was the first man she’d ever been completely naked with, the first man she’d ever taken a shower with. And that was pretty amazing.
She got up and went to the kitchen, a little giggle escaping because she was just that happy. She saw the shadow out of the corner of her eye and she spun around, her mind recognizing it even if the memory of it had been partially wiped by the drug.
“Tish,” Quinn said as she slowly backed up. “Why are you here?”
Dr. Morgan held up a syringe, a dark grin twisting her features. “I think you know why I’m here.”
Quinn shook her head. “It’s over, Tish. Julien’s been arrested. He’ll tell them what you did—”
“By the time he does, your brain will be so fried that you won’t be able to tell them shit. He won’t ever be able to prove it.”
“I know Julien. He keeps everything. There will be text messages, emails. Records of calls.”
“We used burner phones, and I threw mine away this morning in a place they won’t ever think to look.”
“There’ll be his word.”
“A killer against that of a doctor?” Dr. Morgan laughed. “You are naive, aren’t you, princess?”
She charged toward Quinn, snatching at her arm even as she tried to pull away. She twisted it back behind her back, pulling Quinn toward her.
“No one’s coming to your rescue. That guy outside? He’s watching a loop on his tablet. Won’t even notice until it’s too late.” She laughed. “Talk about déjà vu. I told you all this the last time, too.”
She primed the needle and jabbed it into Quinn’s neck. “Easier than your damn scalp!”
Before she could push the plunger, however, she was yanked away. A stranger Quinn had never seen before shoved her hard against the wall, a dull thud filling the air. Quinn carefully removed the syringe, carefully placing it on the counter to preserve the fluid inside. Even with the vial of blood Calder had taken from the phlebotomist, they still could not identify the drug. Maybe now they’d have a chance.
Police lights filled the room seconds before a pounding came on the door. The man holding Dr. Morgan walked her out. She didn’t say a word, just this look of disappointment on her face.
Quinn fell to her bottom in the middle of the floor, fighting tears.
“Just like we planned,” one of the cops said, bending over Quinn, resting his hand timidly on her shoulder. “We made sure she overheard the head of surgery reinstate your privileges, and then we followed her here. Everything went just like Obre sketched it out.”
Quinn nodded. “Is he on his way?”
As if asking the question had conjured him up, Calder rushed through the small crowd and dropped to his knees beside her.
“You okay?” he demanded, taking her face in his hands.
“I’m good.”
He sighed, kissing her roughly as he pulled her into his arms. “I was so afraid,” he whispered in her ear so that only she could hear.
Funny. She hadn’t been. Not really. Just overwhelmed.
What really frightened her was what came next.
* * *
The reporter walked into the room, a cynical look in her eye.
“You’re back.”
Quinn glanced at Calder before setting the stack of files she’d brought with her on the desk. “You asked for proof.”
“What’s this?”
The reporter began opening the file folders, her eyes growing wider the deeper she got into them. At one point she gasped, at another, she shook her head. At yet another, she looked as though she might cry.
“Is this you?” she asked toward the bottom of the pile, her face pale as she held up a photograph of a woman’s torso covered in bruises and scars.
“Yes.”
Quinn waited, expecting the doubt, the disbelief. But the reporter surprised her by standing and coming around to offer her a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
Quinn just nodded, reaching for Calder’s hand as she did.
“Okay,” the reporter said, returning to her seat, “we’ll begin with the health care vote. If you could give me a little background . . .”
Chapter 21
Springfield, Illinois
Mastiff Security Headquarters
Several weeks later
The radio played in the background as Axel and Calder waded through paperwork that was jumbled and scattered, financial records, operation reports, tech reports, things that should have been on a computer somewhere, or at least filed away in a cabinet somewhere. These were things from Durango’s office that had piled up in the absence of a proper assistant. Gracie was interviewing, at that very moment, potential candidates, but it didn’t seem like she was having any more success than Durango or Kyle ever had.
“Senator Roan Naylor has scheduled a press conference for later this afternoon,” a disembodied reporter said through the radio. “It has been suggested that the purpose of the conference is to announce his resignation. Senator Naylor, whose office was hit by scandal earlier this week when his chief of staff was arrested for hit and run here in Springfield, is also facing allegations of corruption originating from a series of articles printed in a local Springfield newspaper. Most pundits believe that these allegations, whether true or not, have irrevocably destroyed Naylor’s career. It has also been alleged that Senator Naylor abused his young daughter during his entire tenure in the governor’s mansion. Most of the senator’s constituents are shocked and dismayed by this allegation in particular because Quinn Naylor was the state’s sweetheart as she grew up in our beloved city.”
“Is it true?”
Calder glanced at Axel. “The man’s a fucking monster.”
Axel nodded. “I never liked him. I voted for the other guy.”
Calder nodded, biting back a chuckle.
“So you and Quinn are a thing now, right?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“Are you going public?”
He shrugged. “We’re not going out of our way to hide it.”
Axel blushed a little. “Abigail’s in town this week and she suggested, you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable, but she suggested we get together, go to dinner or something.” Axel lifted a piece of paper and turned it over, moving like a fidgety child. “She’s been pushing me to be more social.”
“I’d have to talk to Quinn.”
“Of course, of course.”
“But I don’t see why not.”
Axel looked up and grinned. “Thanks, man. Abigail will be thrilled.”
A little silence fell between them as the news droned on. Calder was reading through a tech report that described a tiny camera designed to be disguised as a button or other small item someone might wear on their clothing when Axel cleared his throat.
“I know you were better qualified for this job than I was. I told Durango he should hire you instead.”
Calder glanced at him. “You’re doing a good job, man.”
Axel nodded. “It’s more than I expected, but I’m enjoying it.”
“Good. I think we’re a good team. We’ll keep this place going.”
Axel nodded again. “Durango’s out of jail. They dropped charges, but I heard from a buddy at the police station that they’re still considering rape charges against him.”
“That sucks.”
“Probably won’t stick since the victim isn’t around to testify. But . . . if Durango isn’t careful, he’s going to sink this place with his behavior.”
“Maybe Gracie will turn him around.”
“That’s all we can hope, isn’t it?”
The news continued to play into the silence that once again fell between them. It was silence, but it was a companionable sort of silence.
“Local woman was found murdered in her apartment today,” the reporter droned in a monotone voice. “Twenty-two-year-old Tracy Logan was found dead of an apparent break in. Her body was found by a downstairs neighbor who let in concerned coworkers after Ms. Logan failed to show up for work after the long weekend. Police believe Ms. Logan was murdered sometime late Saturday night.”
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