by Laura Scott
Keeping a measure of professional distance between them would be smart. Safe. Shanna was in the middle of a family crisis, and the last thing she needed was to worry about him crowding her. And that wasn’t his intention. But surely they could be friends?
And besides, he needed to put more time and effort into investigating Brady’s murder. What sort of man let a pretty woman get in the way of his duty? Not Quinn Murphy, that’s for sure.
When he requested one room, not two, in the middle of the hallway, halfway between the elevators and stairwells, she glanced at him in surprise but didn’t utter a single protest. And she insisted on using her own credit card to foot the bill.
“Thanks for the ride, Quinn,” she said, reaching for her overnight bag. Was it his imagination, or was her smile strained? “I appreciate all your help tonight.”
He didn’t relinquish his hold on her overnight bag or the box of Skylar’s things. “I’m not staying because I need to check on my mother. She’s really been a wreck over Brady.” The excuse sounded weak, even to him. “I’ll walk you up to your room,” he offered, grasping on to the flimsiest excuse to prolong their time together.
“There’s no need,” she protested. But he ignored her and walked over to the elevator, punching the button to open the door. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
During the elevator ride, he racked his brain trying to think of something to say. Something to ease the sudden tension between them.
Something to reassure her that his intentions were honorable.
The elevator doors opened on the third floor, the highest floor of the midsize hotel, and he followed behind her as she walked briskly to her room.
She unlocked the door and pushed it open, so he could set her bag and box inside. She stayed at the door until he returned. “Thanks again, Quinn,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured. On the threshold he paused, and then turned back to face her. “Shanna, I know we just met a few days ago, but I hope you consider me a friend. Please call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Of course I consider you a friend, Quinn,” she assured him. Was that relief he saw reflected in her eyes? “And I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Ridiculous to be disappointed at how quickly she’d accepted his offer of friendship. “Anytime, Shanna.” And when it came time to walk away, he simply couldn’t do it. “How about meeting me here for lunch tomorrow to compare notes?”
A flicker of surprise flashed across her features. “You’re off work again tomorrow?”
“Yeah. They gave me a week off, due to Brady’s death.” And here he was trying to figure out a way to spend more time with Shanna.
“Okay, lunch tomorrow would be great. Good night, Quinn.”
It took every ounce of willpower he had to step back, rather than gathering her close for a hug. “Good night, Shanna.”
He waited until she’d closed the door and slid the dead bolt home. Then he forced himself to walk away.
He had six days of vacation/bereavement time off work. It was about time he put forth a stronger effort to find Brady’s killer.
And he vowed to start tonight. The customers at the coffee shop thought Brady was working on some “secret” article. There was no easy way to get a hold of Brady’s computer tonight, although earlier, he’d put in a second call to Hank Nelson requesting a copy of all the files on Brady’s hard drive.
But he could go back through his brother’s previous college newsletter articles to see what sorts of topics Brady liked to write about.
And maybe focusing on Brady would make it easier to forget about Shanna, at least for a little while.
Shanna sat down at the desk inside her room and began to review her notes from Skylar’s kidnapping. But her throbbing headache wasn’t easy to ignore. When she realized she’d read the same paragraph three times and still couldn’t remember a word, she shoved the notes aside.
It was no use. She couldn’t concentrate.
Turning off the lights and climbing into bed helped to ease the pain a little.
She was exhausted. Mentally and physically exhausted. So why couldn’t she sleep?
The image of Quinn’s earnest expression as he asked if they could be friends flashed in her mind. She should be glad, relieved that he considered her a friend.
So why the hint of disappointment?
It wasn’t as if she and Quinn had a lot in common. Other than maybe being estranged from their respective families.
But Quinn wasn’t comfortable talking about God, which should be a huge hint that friendship was all that could ever be between them.
Look what happened when she’d tried to date Garrett? They’d started out as friends, but then he began pushing for a physical relationship when she wasn’t ready, and in the end, they’d broken up and their friendship had been ruined.
She didn’t want to make the same mistake with Quinn.
Shanna pushed Quinn’s image out of her mind and tried to focus on her newly reawakened faith.
Dear Lord, please guide me on Your chosen path. Help me to find Skylar and please keep my sister safe in Your care. Amen.
The tension eased from her body, lightening the throbbing in her head. But it wasn’t until, just as she was falling asleep, that it occurred to her—maybe God intended her to show Quinn the value of believing in God and the power of faith.
When Shanna woke up the next morning, she felt a hundred percent better. Her headache had subsided to nothing more than a dull ache, easily treated with ibuprofen, and her stomach rumbled with hunger, indicating the return of her appetite.
She splurged a little, ordering a light breakfast through room service, mindful of the lunch she’d promised to share later that morning with Quinn.
And after she’d eaten her yogurt parfait and toast, showered and dressed in fresh clothes, she went back to reviewing her notes. But reading through them with the knowledge that Skylar was alive today didn’t help shed any light on the events around her kidnapping. Nothing jumped out at her as significant.
After a couple of hours, she sat back in disgust. Going over the scant information in the articles about other kidnapping cases she’d dug out all those years ago wasn’t where she should be spending her time or her energy. She needed to be back at Carlyle University going through photographs of female students.
Looking for someone who resembled Skylar.
She glanced at her watch, considering whether or not to cancel the lunch plans with Quinn. If she called for a taxi now, she could easily be back at the university in thirty minutes or less.
But she’d slept later than she’d thought, and Quinn was due to arrive in forty-five minutes. Maybe it would be better for her to spend the time checking on how the processing of evidence was going.
Putting a call in to her forensic expert, Al, she waited on hold until he picked up the call. “Yeah?”
“Hi, Al,” she greeted him. “Just wondering how things are going. Did you find any other fingerprint matches? Or anything on the hair fibers?”
“We did get a couple of fingerprint matches,” he acknowledged. “But all from beer cans, not from the rugby trophy or the victim’s room.”
Prints off the beer cans didn’t mean a whole lot, but at this point, she’d take what they could get. “Okay, give me the names of the matches.”
“There is an Erwin Fink, who is in the system because of a shoplifting record as a juvie—he stole a CB radio. And a Bradley Wilkes, whose prints were in the system because he spent four months in the military. Before you start thinking the worst, he was honorably discharged after they discovered a medical problem with his heart that they didn’t find during the routine medical screening.”
Shanna wrote down the two names, hoping and praying they wouldn’t be dead ends. How sad to hope they had some sort of criminal tendency that would make them the logical suspects in Brady’s murder. “That’s all? Just two matches?”
/> “Hold on to your horses, would ya?” Al said irritably. “I’m getting to the others. We did match up the three boys who live in the house to prints on beer cans, as well, which isn’t a huge surprise. I think it’s a little odd that we didn’t find any prints of his roommates in the victim’s room.”
She didn’t think that information was so surprising. Living together in a house likely meant they’d spend most of their time in the living room and kitchen, wouldn’t they? Not in each other’s bedrooms.
“But there are two other names that popped out of the system—Tanya Jacobs and Derek Matthews. I saved these for last because I think they’re your best place to start. Both of these kids were in serious trouble last year, and it just so happens they both were busted at the same time.”
Her pulse jumped with excitement as she jotted down the two names, underlining them with bold strokes. “At the same time? What for?”
“Drug dealing on campus.” The note of satisfaction in Al’s tone was unmistakable.
“At Carlyle University?” she asked in shock. Didn’t students get kicked out of school for that sort of criminal activity?
“Interestingly enough, no, they were at a state-college campus in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. They were arrested last year, did only a few months of time before they were released again.”
“I can’t imagine they’re enrolled in college. Wouldn’t they do a criminal background check?” she asked. It was interesting that the two kids, male and female, came to Chicago together, once again hanging out with the college crowd. Were they in a romantic relationship? And was their intent to continue dealing drugs?
“Not routinely in the state of Illinois,” he told her. “But I haven’t checked yet to see if they are enrolled. Figured you could do that part. I knew you’d be interested in these two. Maybe your victim was somehow involved in the drug scene, too?”
Shanna found herself hoping not, for Quinn’s sake. “We’ll know after we get the autopsy results if he had drugs in his system, in addition to the alcohol.”
“Yeah, the preliminary results were released this morning, but they won’t have the tox screens done for another four to six weeks.”
“I know.” The lengthy time frame to receive complete autopsy results was annoying, to say the least. But a necessary evil, if you wanted to rule out any and all possibilities. “Thanks, Al. This gives us a place to start.”
“I’ll keep you posted if anyone else pops up,” he promised.
“I’d appreciate it.” She hung up and stared down at the two names of potential suspects: Tanya Jacobs and Derek Matthews.
Finally, they had a decent lead. Clearly the fact that these two were arrested together in Milwaukee last year, and now happened to both be at the same party where a young college student ended up dead, bore further scrutiny.
She could hardly wait to give Quinn the news.
Quinn drove up to the hotel fifteen minutes early. He was too excited by what he’d found to stay away.
In the lobby, he called her cell phone. She answered on the second ring. “Hi, Quinn.”
“Hi, Shanna,” he responded, knowing his goofy grin stretched from ear to ear. “I know I’m early, but I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind. I have a breakthrough on the case that I’d like to discuss with you, anyway,” she said.
His fingers tightened on his phone. She had a breakthrough, too? Maybe between the information they’d both discovered, they’d be able to wrap up this entire murder case sooner rather than later. “Great, I have some news, too.”
“Okay, see you in a few minutes.”
He snapped his phone shut and paced the foyer in front of the elevators, waiting impatiently. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, he stepped forward eagerly, but then checked himself.
Back off, Murphy, he told himself. Friends. They were just friends, remember?
“Hi, Quinn,” she greeted him warmly. He was surprised to see she had her overnight bag with her, but not the box containing Skylar’s things. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to need a ride out to the university after lunch, so I can go back to reviewing the college ID photos.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” He reached over to take the overnight bag, surprised to find it felt heavier than last night. “Did you want me to run up and get Skylar’s box?”
“No thanks, I managed to jam everything in the overnight bag,” she admitted with a shy grin. “The box was bulky and awkward, so I just put everything in the bag and left the box up in the room.”
“You’re not planning to check out, are you?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes, I am. But let’s fight about that later, okay? First I have something important to tell you.”
He didn’t want to let the matter drop, but he figured there would be time later to get into the issue. She wasn’t safe at her house, that was for sure. But at the moment, he wanted to exchange information. “Let’s get seated in the restaurant first, okay?”
She nodded. He approached the hostess and requested a booth in the back for privacy.
After they were seated, they quickly placed their order for burgers and soft drinks. Once the waitress left, Shanna leaned forward. “Okay, you first. Tell me what you found out.”
“Remember how I told you that I spent a few hours at the Corner Café showing Brady’s picture around?” When she nodded, he continued, “And several students claimed he was working on some sort of secret article for the college online newsletter?”
“Yes. Did you find out what he was working on?” she asked.
“Yep. I called Hank and asked for a copy of all Brady’s files from his laptop computer, and he gave them to me. I started going through them and found the article he’d been working on in the weeks before his death.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Shanna urged. “Tell me what the article was about.”
He hoped she wouldn’t freak out too much when he told her. “I know this may be hard to believe, but his article was focused on adoption. Specifically, a private adoption agency that was located in Chicago.”
She stared at him, her brow furrowed. “And why would an adoption agency be such a big secret?”
“From what I can tell, he was investigating the agency located here in Chicago because his roommate, Dennis Green, happened to be adopted through them. But that same agency, called New Beginnings, closed down and disappeared fourteen years ago.”
“Okay,” Shanna said slowly. “But I’m still not clear as to how this helps us.”
“Shanna, think about the possibilities. What if Dennis Green was kidnapped for the purposes of being adopted? And what if Skylar was also kidnapped and then adopted out illegally through the same private adoption agency?” He held his breath, hoping he wasn’t raising her hopes too high as far as their ability to find Skylar.
EIGHT
Shanna stared at Quinn in disbelief. As much as she wanted to trust his theory, there were too many holes in his logic. “I’m sorry, but that theory really doesn’t make sense. Most families want to adopt babies, right? Infants? Or at least kids under a year. I mean, come on, Skylar was five years old.”
But even as she voiced the protest, she remembered how everyone thought her sister was younger than she actually was. With her honey-brown hair, big brown eyes and petite frame, Skylar had been adorable.
The old familiar guilt burned low in her belly. Her fault. Skylar’s kidnapping had been her fault. And for years she’d feared Skylar had suffered horribly before she’d most likely been killed.
She hoped, prayed that Skylar hadn’t suffered.
“I know, I thought the same thing at first,” Quinn said, interrupting her dark thoughts. “But from what I read, Brady’s theory has some merit. Some families, those who really want a child, will go up a few years in age. Look at how adoptions abroad have expanded over the years. Those kids coming in from foreign countries aren’t all infants. And those overseas adoptions take time, along wi
th a significant amount of money. What if you wanted a child now, had the money and didn’t want to wait a year or maybe longer to go through the normal process? Maybe these adoption agencies offered a quick turnaround for couples willing to take older kids.”
Was he right? The possibility was mind boggling. “Still, I would think that if you were going to kidnap a child to turn around and adopt, why wouldn’t you go for younger kids?”
Quinn lifted a shoulder. “Could be that they take what they can get. Parents keep closer eyes on smaller kids. They’re either carried or pushed around in a stroller. But those old enough to move under their own power become easier targets.”
She shivered because suddenly, Brady’s theory made sense. Horrible, chilling sense. She thought about her sister, who might have looked like an easy target. Or the little boy who disappeared from the mall. But there were still a few gaps they needed to understand. “Why did Brady suspect New Beginnings in particular?”
“I think because they were only in existence for a total of five years,” Quinn admitted. “But honestly, that’s where his theory starts to fall apart. Just because a private adoption agency went out of business didn’t mean the owners were breaking the law.”
“No, but it’s a place to start. I wonder if we should turn this information over to the feds?”
“We probably should, but maybe we need to investigate this link a little further. Right now, we have a lot of assumptions without any concrete proof. We could look at other private adoption agencies to see if there are any common threads.”
The thought that other agencies could be doing the exact same thing made her blood congeal in her veins. “There have to be hundreds of private adoption agencies out there.”
“I know,” Quinn said with a grimace. “But we could try to narrow down our search to those private agencies that aren’t in operation anymore. Or those that have only been around for a few years.”
She couldn’t help feeling the task would be hopeless. What they really needed was some sort of proof that at least one or two of the New Beginnings adoptions were illegal. And going back fourteen years wouldn’t make that an easy task. “You really think that your brother was killed because of this article? Because someone found out that he was investigating this particular adoption agency?”