Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (36 page)

“She did. I talked to Savannah a few minutes ago. Samantha’s fine. Now sit down.”

Quinn dropped back into his chair. “You didn’t buy her theory that someone was just
trying to scare her?”

“I think she was trying to convince herself. When nothing else happened, I eventually
let myself believe it, too. Now, after this …” Zach shook his head. “There’s no doubt
in my mind that someone tried to kill her.”

“And it happened right after I came back here.”

“So either you did it or someone’s trying to frame you.”

Yes, but who and why? A former patient he’d pissed off? A relative of someone he’d
treated? He had practiced medicine long enough to have lost a few patients. Was this
revenge or payback?

Hell, why hadn’t he given this any consideration before? Why hadn’t the police?

His expression grim, Zach speared him with a cold look. “So the question is, Dr. Braddock,
who hates you so much they’d kill three women to hurt you?”

Samantha leaned back against the headboard, her arms wrapped around an oversized bed
pillow for comfort and support. “He didn’t do it.”

“Zach’ll get to the bottom of it, Sammie.”

She and her sisters were gathered in her bedroom—a common practice when one of them
had a problem. From childhood, they’d banded together to talk things out and either
provide moral support or solve issues. This would be no different but the stakes were
higher than ever. Quinn’s life was in danger.

“I know he will, Savvy, but we can all work on it together. I know Zach has procedures
to follow, but he’s
got to give me access to the crime scene. He wouldn’t let me go before, but I need
to see it. I can compare it to Charlene’s murder. See the similarities and differences.”
She paused. “And you can research Quinn in Atlanta. Find any complaints made against
him. As soon as I can, I’ll talk with him. See if he’s got any idea who might have
a motive to hurt him.”

Bri went to her feet and pulled her cellphone from her jeans pocket. “I’ll call my
Miami contact and let them know I’m out as far as Cruz is concerned.”

“No, Bri,” Samantha said. “As much as I’d love for you to get as far away from that
monster as possible, you’ve made too much progress to back out now. It would take
too long to get someone else inside. It’s a Wildefire case, too. Savvy and I will
work this one. Logan will guard Lauren. And if Brody agrees, he can help us with Quinn’s
case.”

“I agree,” Savvy said. “I don’t want you close to Cruz any more than Sammie does,
but you’re in now. You need to work that angle till it’s done.”

“Okay, fine. But if you guys need me, I can be here in hours.”

Smiling her gratitude at both of them, Samantha said, “I hope Zach lets Quinn leave
soon. He would hardly even talk to me before he went to the police station.”

“That’s the way of men, Sammie. Especially the strong, silent type.”

Savvy was right, she knew. And the description fit Quinn perfectly. She just hoped
to hell she could get him to talk. If they were going to find out who was doing this,
his cooperation was vital.

“Did Zach tell you anything about the crime scene?”

“Not much. I think he’s too afraid it’ll upset me.” Savvy rolled her eyes. “Silly
man forgets that I used to prosecute these kinds of crimes.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Just that the door had been jimmied, so we know the killer broke in. Said it looked
like Lindsay was in the middle of making Thanksgiving dinner. There were dishes halfway
prepared. The turkey was half done, but it looked like the oven was turned off in
the middle of cooking.”

The break-in was different from Charlene’s murder but that wasn’t necessarily significant.
Samantha tightened her arms around her pillow and tried to put herself in the mind
of the killer. “Think he killed Lindsay, then went back to the kitchen and turned
off the stove to prevent a fire?”

“That makes sense,” Bri said. “He does the deed but doesn’t want to call attention
to the murder. If he’d let the turkey burn, smoke alarms would have gone off. Fire
department might have been contacted.”

“Anything else, Savvy?”

“Not much. From what I could get from Zach, it was a gruesome scene. He said he wouldn’t
know until the coroner can confirm, but it looked like she might have been raped,
too. And he counted thirteen stab wounds.”

“Thirteen … just like Charlene.”

“Think that’s his signature?” Bri asked.

“Who the hell knows?”

“Did Charlene have bite marks?” Savvy asked.

“No. Just the stab wounds.” And then the significance of her sister’s statement hit
her. “Are you saying Lindsay had bite marks on her?”

“Yes. Zach said some were fresh and others looked like they were a couple of days
old.”

Did this have anything to do with Charlene’s penchant for rough sex? Even though Charlene
had no fresh bite marks on her, she remembered the coroner’s report mentioning some
older marks that were of unknown origin. Could they have been healing bite marks?

“Quinn told me Charlene liked rough sex. That’s how he found out she was cheating
on him. He saw bite marks
on her and thought she’d been raped. The coroner’s report mentioned some markings
on Charlene that looked like they were healing. I wonder if those marks would match
up with Lindsay’s?”

Samantha rolled off the bed and stood. Her need to see the crime scene and Lindsay’s
body was now even more imperative. “I need to get over there ASAP.”

Savvy held up her cellphone. “I’ll call Zach. If he goes there with you, there should
be no reason you can’t see it. If this was the same man who killed Charlene, having
a person who saw the scene in Atlanta is essential.”

While Savvy made the call, Samantha went to the closet to dig out her camera. She
would send photos to Murphy and let him compare them to Charlene’s murder scene. This
had to be the same person, didn’t it?

A sick thought occurring to her, she turned back to her sisters. “Have you guys considered
that Clark could be the murderer and just staged this to look like Charlene’s murder,
hoping to pin it on Quinn?”

Her finger poised to press a key on her cellphone, Savvy looked up with a grimace.
“There were rumors that both Clark and his daddy were abusive to Lindsay. That’s one
of the reasons Zach helped her get out of town and got her a job.”

“Too bad she didn’t stay gone,” Bri said.

“So could Clark Dayton be that sick and disgusting?”

“Actually, he probably could, I just don’t know that he’s bright enough to stage the
scene to make it look like someone else did the deed.”

Samantha nodded. “He seemed genuinely upset that Lindsay was dead.”

Her phone to her ear, Savvy said, “Let’s see what Zach says.”

“Ask him if he’s through talking with Quinn.”

Anxious to get something—anything—going, Samantha paced back and forth the length
of her bedroom and
listened to the monosyllabic, one-sided conversation Savvy was having with Zach.

Finally the call ended but the expression on her sister’s face wasn’t encouraging.

“What’s wrong?”

“Zach will be here in a few minutes and take you over to the crime scene. Clark and
his daddy are staying at the motel over on the bypass, so it’ll just be you two looking.”

That was good news but there was something more … something her sister didn’t want
to tell her.

“And what else?”

“Zach said that one of his deputies took Quinn home.”

“But why didn’t he bring him here? I’ve got his car.”

“He didn’t want to come here. He asked Zach to have his car brought to his house.”

She tried not to be hurt. Quinn had to be exhausted. Of course he would want to go
home, maybe shower and catch some sleep. Her own eyes felt as if they had ten pounds
of sand in each one, and she hadn’t been questioned by the police for endless hours.
It was just past four o’clock in the morning. Once he had some sleep, they would talk.

“No problem. I’ll leave the keys here.” Samantha knew she wasn’t fooling either sister
but thankfully they didn’t comment.

She took the camera and her purse and headed out the door. “I’ll go wait for Zach
downstairs.”

Apparently unable to let her go without offering some kind of comfort, Savvy said,
“I’m sure Quinn is exhausted, Sammie.”

Nodding, Samantha walked out of the room before she did something she would regret,
like diving into her sisters’ arms and bellowing out her hurt feelings. She had more
important problems to deal with. The man
she loved was once again being accused of murder. She had failed Quinn before. There
was no way in hell she would fail him again.

Quinn sat on the sleeping porch where only a few hours ago he and Sam had been wrapped
around each other. All that peace had been decimated. Someone was once again fucking
with his life. And another woman was dead, apparently because of him.

Who the hell had he pissed off so much that he thought murder was a proper revenge?
A former patient or colleague? Someone he’d known in medical school or the army? Hell,
someone he’d known in college? Throughout his life, he hadn’t exactly been known as
Mr. Charming. There could be hundreds of people who didn’t care for him. Being liked
had never been one of his top priorities.

Until he’d met Sam. Quinn rubbed his grit-filled eyes. God, what was he going to do
about her? Just when every obstacle that had stood in their path seemed to be gone,
now this monumental FUBAR stood in their way.

When Zach had told him he was free to go, the words had trembled on his mouth to be
taken to Sam. The need to hold her in his arms had almost been enough to weaken his
resolve. But he hadn’t. Being anywhere near her right now was out of the question.
Two women were dead because of him. If anything happened to her, Quinn knew without
a doubt he wouldn’t survive.

The slam of a car door was his first clue that he had a visitor. Hell, he needed to
get some sleep. He hadn’t heard the car or even seen the lights. He stood and headed
back inside the house to the front door. If he were a betting man, he would have placed
money that it was Sam.

Quinn would have lost the bet. He opened the door to
a woman with Sam’s features but with short, white-blond hair and a fierce, determined
look in her eyes. Her sister Sabrina.

“You’re a prick.”

Despite himself, he felt a smile twitch at his mouth. “Greetings in Midnight aren’t
what they used to be.”

“I thought you finally realized how lucky you are.”

Since he didn’t feel too damn lucky right now, Quinn waited, figuring she wouldn’t
leave until she’d had her say.

“But now you’re acting as if she means nothing to you. I never figured you for a fuck-her-and-forget-her
kind of person.”

“Have you ever considered that I’m staying away from her for her own good?”

“How’s that?”

“Whoever is doing this wants to hurt me. And the number one way to hurt me is to hurt
Sam.”

Sabrina gave him a hard stare as if trying to delve deep into his brain to see if
he was lying. Finally she gave a derisive snort. “If you think Sammie’s just going
to sit back and not get involved, then you don’t know my sister.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean whether you’ve hired us or not, you’re now a client of Wildefire Security
Agency. Sammie’s over at the crime scene right now, taking pictures that she can compare
with your ex-wife’s murder. We’re going to work the case until we find the killer.”

Hell, he really wasn’t with it. Of course that’s what Sam would do. Even though he’d
hurt her, she wasn’t going to let this go.

“How do you know I didn’t do it?”

“Because Sammie believes in you. And I believe in Sammie.”

She couldn’t have pierced his conscience any better if she had shot a bullet into
it.

“And what if I don’t want the Wildefire Agency’s help?”

“Tough shit.”

“Then I guess I’d better cooperate.”

“Your cooperation would be helpful but isn’t necessary for us to do our job.”

“I admire your confidence.”

Her shrug said she didn’t really give a damn what he thought. She confirmed it with
“You fix it with Sammie or I’ll bring a friend over next time I come.”

“Someone to beat me up?”

“No, my favorite little Smith and Wesson. She’s convinced plenty of people to my way
of thinking.”

Quinn had to laugh. Sabrina’s tough talk reminded him of the threat Sam had made to
Dayton earlier. He wondered if they’d watched a lot of Bronson and Eastwood movies
when they were growing up.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Apparently satisfied she’d done what she intended, Sabrina nodded and turned away.
Quinn watched as she walked down the steps and marched to her car. She opened the
door and then stopped for one final parting shot. “You’re damn lucky to have my sister’s
love. I hope someday you deserve it.”

Samantha snapped another shot of Lindsay Milan’s bloodied body, trying like hell to
ignore the death glaze in her eyes and the fact that she had known the woman. Investigating
murders had once been her job, and though she had on occasion gotten queasy, none
of them had been acquaintances of hers.

Lindsay hadn’t had an easy life; her death had been even tougher.

“What do you think?” Zach asked.

“She put up a hard fight. The cuts on her hands are slices, not stabs. Defensive wounds.”
Samantha drew closer, snapping shots of her extremities. “Think he restrained her?”

“Don’t think so. No ligature marks on her wrists or ankles. The bruises on her wrists
look like finger bruises to me … like on her neck.”

“What about the bite marks? You think that was consensual?”

Zach shook his head. “Hard to say, but if he didn’t restrain her, then my guess is
she was okay with it. At least at first. Especially since she’s got several that are
a couple of days old.”

“Breasts, stomach, and inside of her thighs. Anywhere else?”