Farewell Seas

by Lily Harper Hart

  “What’s her real name?”

  “Martha Martin. She’s well regarded in legal circles. Her record is fairly clean, although she was cited for going around judicial procedure eight years ago when representing Charles Lipscomb.”

  Paul tilted his head to the side, searching his memory. “Why is that name familiar?”

  “Because he killed eighteen women in and around the city over ten years and almost got off on a technicality. She’s the one who discovered the technicality. Luckily they managed to charge him another way and he’s doing life in Attica.”

  “Oh, my ... .” Paul’s face drained of color. “He was the one who ... um ... hacked off the feet and hands. He kept them as souvenirs, putting them in jars of formaldehyde and decorating his house with them.”

  “Yeah. He was sick and disgusting.” Quinn made a face as he read further. “She was dating a judge — not the same one on the Lipscomb case, mind you – but she was also cited for not declaring her relationship with that judge during several cases and the verdicts were called into the question after the fact.

  “Since double jeopardy rules applied, her clients couldn’t be tried again,” he continued. “That created quite the uproar and the judge in question was removed from the bench. His name was Jeremy Dexter.”

  Paul jerked up his head, his eyes going wide. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Baffled, Quinn shook his head. “No. That’s what it says. Why is that important?”

  “Jeremy Dexter is a high fantasy author who made a splash two years ago when selling his first book,” Paul explained. “He got a six-figure advance, which is practically unheard of in fantasy circles unless you’re writing Harry Potter.”

  “Does he hang around with Roxanne?”

  Paul held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not current on all the gossip. I hang around with them at things like this to cover myself, but I honestly don’t care about any of them. I wouldn’t say I’m friends with any authors because I don’t want to risk them asking the wrong questions.”

  “I can see that.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck. “It sounds as if Roxanne was a moral vacuum, but what would her motivation for going after Julia be? Why take her out?”

  “I don’t know that we’ll ever truly understand the inner workings of the Grand Dames. Maybe we’re trying too hard to find a motive when the answer is simple greed and jealousy.”

  “I guess.” Quinn massaged his forehead as he turned to the next file. “Jazzy Jessup, whom I ran a deep search on even though I knew the basics. Real name Mildred Wickersham. She was a solid student in high school, never got in any trouble other than a few drunken warnings while out with her buddies. Lila is listed in two of the warnings. That’s pretty much standard teenager stuff, though.”

  “Rowan didn’t get in trouble like that,” Paul argued. “I don’t think that’s standard teenager stuff.”

  “Rowan is an angel.” Quinn smirked as Paul’s lips curved down. “You shouldn’t give me an opening like that if you don’t want me to gush. You’ll learn, though, and you’ll get used to us together. That is ... if you plan on sticking around.”

  “I’m still thinking about it. I sent a message to Nick to see what he thinks. He’s involved in this, too. I can’t simply jump in with both feet without at least running it by him.”

  “Fair enough.” Quinn held his hands up in capitulation. “I’m not trying to force you into something you’re not comfortable talking about. It’s just ... I don’t want Rowan getting hurt. If you agree to stay, work on this together, then she’s less likely to get hurt.”

  “You really do love her, don’t you?”

  Quinn nodded without hesitation. “More than anything. You have no idea what she means to me.”

  “Well ... I need to talk to Nick. I know what I want, but I’m afraid. If I stick close, I might eventually be seen and that’s the last thing Rowan needs. That will tip off the Phoenix Society people. What will you do if they move on her?”

  “Kill them.” Quinn was matter-of-fact as he turned back to his screen. “As for Jazzy, I didn’t mean that drinking in a field and getting formal warnings issued by a variety of police agencies was a good thing. It’s just ... that was semi-normal where I grew up. It’s certainly not something that would lead me to believe she’s a murderer.”

  “I guess not.” Paul was intrigued by Quinn’s declaration that he would kill anyone who came after Rowan, but he wisely let the statement go … for now. “I thought we agreed that Lila was the more likely suspect. What do we know about her?”

  “She’s next.” Quinn shifted to the next file. “Let’s see ... she was born in Waco, Texas and didn’t move to Austin until she was in elementary school. That’s interesting. She lived in a variety of different homes over the years, which seems to suggest to me that she was in foster care.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” Paul straightened quickly. “I don’t think she deserves to be a suspect simply because she was in foster care.”

  “She’s a suspect because of the things she said in front of Rowan,” Quinn clarified. “I find the foster home stuff interesting because it could point to feelings of abandonment. If she thinks that Jazzy left her behind, she’s more liable to lash out at her because of it if she has a foundation that suggests she has abandonment issues.”

  “Oh.” Paul was momentarily abashed. “I didn’t think about that. You’re pretty good at this. Did you always want to be in security?”

  Quinn shook his head, thoughtful as he kept reading Lila’s file. “No. I joined the military because I wanted to save the world. I left the military because I realized I couldn’t save everyone. I’m better off focusing on my little corner of the world. That’s something I can control.”

  “Would you really kill someone to protect Rowan?”

  “I’ll kill multiple someone’s to protect her. If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. I have every intention of keeping her safe. You have my word on that.”

  Something about Quinn’s chilling delivery convinced Paul that was true. “You’re a good man.” He turned rueful. “You’re a good man who sticks with her no matter what. I should’ve been a good man like you.”

  “You’re a different sort of good man. We’ll figure this out.” Quinn didn’t look up from his computer screen. He was completely entranced by what he found there. “Lila had a lot more issues than Jazzy, and I can’t help but wonder if Jazzy knew all of this.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “Sure. Lila’s mother was a drug addict who basically neglected her for two years, going so far as to leave her alone at night when she went out to get a fix. She fashioned some sort of cage deal to keep Lila in the crib, tossed in two bottles, and took off for hours on end.”

  Paul was horrified. “Oh, my ... .”

  “One of the neighbors heard the baby screaming one night and checked on her, found the setup,” Quinn continued. “She called the police and Lila was taken into protective services. Her mother’s parental rights weren’t immediately severed. The court tried to get the woman some help, but eventually she simply disappeared and Lila was left in the system.”

  “What about her father?”

  Quinn absently scratched the side of his nose as he dug deeper. “Well, that’s interesting. There is no father listed on Lila’s birth certificate, but Fred managed to hack into her files and there were rumors that her father was Jamison Wickersham.”

  “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

  Quinn was grim when he finally met Paul’s gaze. “Jamison is Mildred Wickersham’s father as well.”

  “Jazzy?” Things slowly slid into place for Paul. “Geez. Do you think Lila knows that Jazzy is her half-sister?”

  “I’m going to bet there was a time when Lila went looking for her father. If she realized that Jazzy ended up with everything — a nice house, parents who cared, security — while she got nothing, that could’ve m
ade the bitterness even more hard to swallow.”

  “Do you think Jazzy knows?”

  “I honestly have no idea. I’m going to find out, though. Everything in this investigation is suddenly pointing toward Lila, and I’m worried what she’s going to do if backed into a corner.”

  “I’m guessing now is the time when we track down Rowan and make sure she’s okay.”

  “You guess right. She needs to know all this.”

  Paul hopped to his feet. “Let’s go. I don’t like being separated from her.”

  Quinn’s smile was small but heartfelt. “It sounds to me as if you’ve already made up your mind.”

  “We’ll talk about that later.”

  ROWAN WAS BORED OUT OF her mind as she snapped photographs in the conference room. With Julia gone, Rosalind took over keynote speaker duties and she seemed to be enjoying herself as she held court on the stage and addressed her fellow authors.

  Rowan snapped multiple pictures, checking her viewfinder each time. The omen remained on Rosalind’s photo, which meant she was in danger. That hadn’t changed. The odds of someone attacking the woman in front of hundreds of witnesses were slim, though, so Rowan was reasonably assured she had a little time to play with.

  “It’s exciting, huh?” Lila intoned, moving close to Rowan’s elbow as she loitered near the back of the ballroom. “All these authors in one room ... it’s like being bathed in a spring of greatness.”

  Rowan found the comment unbelievably hard to swallow. “Well ... I’m not really into public bathing but, if that’s your thing, more power to you.”

  “I didn’t mean ... .” Lila turned sheepish as she shook her head. “That sounded stupid, didn’t it? I don’t know why I think I can be a writer if I say stupid things like that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “I bet you’re a great writer,” Rowan countered. “I bet you could sell a million copies if you just came up with the right idea. You need to have faith in yourself. I know it’s not easy, but it happens all the time. You just need to concentrate.”

  “What are the odds I’ll think of two different ideas that will sell?” Lila challenged. “Julia already stole my best idea. I should be a millionaire. Instead, I’m scrambling to be an assistant again. She promised me when she took my idea and ran with it that it would benefit me, too. That turned out to be a big, fat lie.”

  Rowan stilled, dumbfounded. “Wait ... what? The Ties That Bind was your idea?”

  Realizing her mistake too late to take it back, Lila worked her jaw. “I ... you ... no ... .”

  “Did you write those books?” Rowan pressed. “Did Julia steal your books?”

  “I can’t talk about this.” Lila turned on her heel and disappeared through the double doors that led to the hallway.

  Rowan wasn’t about to be dissuaded now, so she cast a look back to the stage, made brief eye contact with Jazzy, and then chased Lila into the hallway. “Wait!” Rowan increased her pace as she followed Lila toward the stairwell. It was clear Lila wanted to escape, but Rowan had no intention of letting her do it. “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m not talking to you,” Lila shot back. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was a mistake. Forget what I said.”

  “There’s no way I can forget that.” Rowan was breathless when she joined Lila in the stairwell, her mind spinning. “You wrote Julia’s book. How, though? I thought she didn’t have an assistant until after the fact.”

  “She didn’t, but the book she turned in to the publisher was weak and poorly written. It was given to me to polish up and I made it what it was. I tweaked the story, and in at least fifty changes, and made it better. It was my idea ... and she got rich off it.”

  “It sounds like both of you contributed.”

  “Oh, you don’t even know what I’m talking about.” Lila gave Rowan a light shove, which reminded the photographer that she was in a vulnerable position. Quinn asked her to stay in the ballroom and now she was in a remote stairwell, where Lila could practically do anything she wanted if she set her mind to it.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you, but I believe you have the talent to break through.” Rowan decided to put distance between herself and Lila, just to be on the safe side. “I have to get back. I ... .” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips as she pulled open the door and came face to face with another figure. She wasn’t expecting this one, and surprise washed over her in waves as she tried to grasp exactly what was happening.

  “What are you doing here?”

  19

  Nineteen

  Rowan stood there, blinking, for what felt like forever. Wrapping her mind around the turn of events wasn’t easy, but the initial sense of relief she felt when the door opened evaporated quickly.

  The look on Jazzy’s face told her in no uncertain terms that what was about to transpire wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

  “What’s going on in here?” Jazzy drawled, sliding through the door and letting it slowly close behind her. The stairwell was illuminated, but not well. Most guests preferred the elevators and only the staff regularly used the stairs. That meant the area remained vacant for large portions of the day.

  “Nothing is going on,” Lila replied quickly, her eyes furtive. Rowan couldn’t help but notice how nervous the young woman suddenly appeared to be, which didn’t make sense given the suspicions currently bubbling up. “Why would you think something is going on?”

  “Because I saw you two at the back of the room,” Jazzy replied without hesitation. “You had your heads bent together.”

  “I hardly think we had our heads bent together,” Rowan countered. “We were simply ... enjoying the show.” That seemed like a safe answer, so Rowan went with it. “I’m not an author, but I found the conversation on the stage very illuminating.”

  Jazzy spared her a sideways glance and then focused her full attention on Lila. “Where were you going when you left the conference room?”

  “Nowhere,” Lila replied hurriedly, holding her hands out in a placating manner. “Why would you think I was going anywhere?”

  “Because I told you something right before the conference began, and I think you’re starting to freak out about it. There’s no reason to get worked up, by the way. What I said ... I didn’t mean it. It was just a joke.”

  Lila didn’t immediately respond, instead remaining rooted to her spot and avoiding eye contact.

  A sick sensation slowly filled Rowan’s stomach as she realized there was a good chance she’d severely misjudged the situation. “Oh, geez. You’re the one who killed Julia.”

  Jazzy’s eyes flashed with something Rowan couldn’t immediately identify. She had the sneaking suspicion it was hatred, but the woman managed to shutter her emotions so quickly that Rowan couldn’t be sure that she didn’t imagine the phenomenon.

  “Why would you think that?” Jazzy asked, tilting her head to the side. “Did Lila tell you that?”

  “I didn’t, Millie,” Lila volunteered quickly, her eyes filling with panic. “I didn’t say a word to her. I wouldn’t betray you like that.”

  “My name is not Millie,” Jazzy hissed, her voice roughly as warm as an iceberg. “I don’t like that name. You of all people know that.”

  “Of course. I ... .” Lila broke off, licking her lips.

  Rowan was technically between the two women, potential escape at either side, but she didn’t feel safe. It was obvious something bad was about to happen, although things weren’t going down like she expected. “I think things are taking a turn for the worse and it’s not necessary,” she said, changing course quickly. “This is all clearly a big misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding?” Jazzy mocked, snorting. “You just accused me of being a murderer.”

  “And I was mistaken.” Rowan’s voice was clear, and she sounded calm despite the tempest raging in her head. “I thought one thing but it’s clearly not the case. We should get back to the ballroom. They’ll notice I�
��m gone fairly quickly since I’m supposed to be shooting the entire event.”

  Jazzy didn’t look worried in the least that someone would come looking for them. “Really? You think they’re going to worry about the photographer during a boring panel discussion? Please. We all know that’s not true. No one cares about those photos.”

  “I’m still required to take them,” Rowan pressed. “The publishing houses will want copies.”

  “Well, the publishing houses are going to be disappointed,” Jazzy drawled, shaking her head. “It would really be for the best if you didn’t try to manipulate me. I don’t like being manipulated.”

  Rowan balked. “What makes you think I’m trying to manipulate you?”

  “I’m not a moron. It’s fairly obvious. Now ... shh.” Jazzy pressed her fingers to her lips and focused on Lila. “I told you the truth earlier. You were all up in arms because you didn’t think you would ever succeed, and I explained exactly how we were going to make that happen. I don’t see why you’re being such a baby about all this.”

  “I’m not being a baby,” Lila said carefully. “I just ... am not being a baby.” Her voice was weak, her hands shaking. “I’m simply trying to wrap my head around things. I don’t think I’m being ridiculous or anything, and those disappointed sighs you keep uttering aren’t helping matters. I need time to absorb what you told me.”

  “I don’t see why.” Jazzy was blasé. “I mean ... I did you a favor. You want to be in the group, and I did you a favor. You should be thanking me, not acting like a total wimp.”

  A sick sensation of understanding drifted over Rowan. “You killed Julia to help Lila.”

  “I believe this conversation is above your pay grade,” Jazzy snapped. “You’re not involved so ... shut your mouth.”

  Rowan knew she was in a precarious situation, but she wasn’t about to back down. Lila looked as if she was about to bolt — which was a bad idea in a stairwell — and Jazzy clearly had some emotional issues. That meant things would likely come to a head no matter what ... and fast.