Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (39 page)

BOOK: Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series
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Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. That was Gibby—always loyal, always loving.

“Thank you, Aunt Gibby. That means a lot.”

“He’s a tough nut to hatch but I think if anyone can crack him, it’s you.”

Grinning at one of her aunt’s wacky sayings, Samantha slowed and then turned in to
the parking lot of the First Methodist Church. The parking lot was already packed
and Samantha silently sighed. She was going to have to park across the street in the
overflow lot.

“I’ll let you out under the porch so you won’t get wet. Can you save me a seat?”

“Be glad to, honey.”

Samantha pulled underneath the protective overhang. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

The passenger-side door opened and Blaine Marshall’s handsome face appeared as he
stooped down. “Hi there, Miss Gibby. Want me to escort you inside?”

“Why, thank you, dear boy. I’d appreciate that.” Gibby
smiled at Samantha. “Be careful crossing the road, honey. It’ll be slick.”

Blaine took Gibby’s arm and gently pulled her from the car. Despite her misgivings
about him, it was a kind, gentlemanly act. “Thank you, Blaine. I’ll see you both in
a few minutes.”

He nodded and closed the door. Samantha pulled out into the parking lot again and
then crossed the street to the overflow. Since the rain continued to pour like someone
had opened up the floodgates of heaven, no one loitered about.

Grabbing her umbrella from the back, she opened her car door and then gasped when
it was wrenched from her hand and Clark Dayton’s bushy face appeared inches from hers.
His sorry appearance confirmed what the gossips had described—he’d been on a major
drinking binge. Bloodshot eyes glared, and when he opened his mouth, the distinctive
smell of hard liquor was undeniable.

“Tell your boyfriend we’re coming for him,” he snarled. “Once we’re through with him,
he won’t have anything left to rape a woman with, much less have the sense God gave
a goose.”

“He had nothing to do with Lindsay’s death, Clark. If you weren’t so drunk and could
think rationally, you’d be able to see that.”

“All I see is a man who’s gotten away with one murder already. He ain’t about to get
away with another one.”

Disgusted and furious at his threats, Samantha used the pointed end of her umbrella
to jab him in the chest. “You come anywhere near him and Zach’ll have your ass in
jail before you can take another breath.”

“Zach won’t be with him all the time. We’ll strike when he least expects us.”

“And we’ll know who to arrest and prosecute, too.”

Clark grinned, showing yellowing, crooked teeth. “Hard to prosecute without finding
a body.”

“Did you just make a death threat?”

“Oh, hell no, sugar. I just gave a friendly warning.”

Disgusted, she jabbed the umbrella again, this time deep into his soft gut. He grunted
and backed away. In one smooth move, Samantha exited the car and pulled her gun from
her purse. Holding it steady, she issued her own warning: “You come anywhere near
him and I promise, you’ll regret it.”

His grin dimming slightly, he kept a wary eye on the gun as he backed away.

“Samantha, everything okay?”

Hearing Brody’s voice behind her, she said, “Clark just made a death threat against
Quinn.”

“Is that right?” Brody’s laid-back voice held a sharp edge.

Swallowing hard, Clark shook his head. “I didn’t do no such thing. Your word against
mine, Samantha.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll want to make sure that Quinn stays healthy so you won’t be accused
of anything.”

“Sure thing.” He glanced toward the church. “I gotta go.”

Samantha kept the gun on him until she saw him cross the road. Then, breathing out
a long sigh, she dropped it back into her purse.

“We’re going to look like we took a swim if we don’t get out of here,” Brody said.

She grimaced and opened her umbrella. Though the rain had lightened to a mist, they
were both getting soaked.

Brody took the umbrella from her grasp and held it above them as they headed to the
church. She was surprised that he hadn’t made any mention of what just happened. They
were to the edge of the church, about to go into the foyer, when he broke his silence.

“You really believe in his innocence, Samantha? Enough to stake your life on it?”

Speaking with complete assurance, she said, “I am one hundred percent sure. Quinn
had nothing to do with Lindsay’s or his ex-wife’s death.”

He nodded as if his doubts were completely gone and confirmed it by saying, “Then
that’s good enough for me.”

“Would you like to know anything about Sammie?”

Quinn turned from looking out into the soggy backyard and the rain-drenched sky. “What
do you mean?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t give any secrets away or anything. It’s just when I fell in love with
Zach, I wanted to know all the little things that can take forever to learn. Like
what kind of cereal he liked or what his favorite cartoon was when he was growing
up.”

Savannah’s face was innocent, devoid of any hidden agenda. Her assumption that he
was in love with Sam was natural. Telling her that he wasn’t in love with her sister
would have been both boorish and possibly wrong. He couldn’t define his feelings for
Sam. They were just there, powerful and passionate.

“I already know her favorite breakfast is Cheerios and Froot Loops mixed together.”

Savannah grinned. “She stole that recipe from me.”

Chuckling, he seated himself across the kitchen table from her and said, “What was
her favorite cartoon?”

“She had two,
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
and
G.I. Joe
.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. She likes to pretend she’s tough.”

“She’s tougher than she looks but a whole lot more vulnerable than she lets on.”

Quinn’s chest tightened at Savannah’s protective tone.
The love the Wilde sisters had for one another was what he’d always thought family
should be about.

“I know she is, Savannah,” he said gently.

The atmosphere had gone from lighthearted to serious in seconds. Savannah’s eyes,
so much like Sam’s, seared him with questions she wasn’t going to ask. He wished he
could reassure her that he would never hurt her sister again. It wasn’t his intention
but they still had a gargantuan mountain to climb. Being crazy about her didn’t negate
the fear that he was shitty husband material.

Since he couldn’t make those assurances, he returned to asking about her favorite
things, hoping to lighten the mood again. Thankfully Savannah cooperated and he managed
to learn that Sam had been a cheerleader, homecoming queen, class president, and the
lead in two class plays, one of them a musical. None of which surprised him. Samantha
Camille Wilde was a beautiful, multilayered woman with many talents. He just hoped
like hell he could figure out a way they could be together without breaking her heart
or her spirit.

Savannah was in the middle of telling the story of how the eight-year-old triplets
went an entire week at school pretending to be each other when his cellphone rang.
Chuckling, Quinn answered the phone but barely got a hello out before Sam was saying
urgently, “I just had a run-in with Clark Dayton. He threatened you.”

Quinn wasn’t surprised. Dayton didn’t seem the type to let the law get in the way
of what he wanted to do.

“No worries, we’re safe here.”

He looked up, surprised that Savannah was no longer in the kitchen.

“Savannah?” Striding out of the kitchen, he was just in time to see her about to open
the front door. Dropping the phone, he took off running, making it in time to scare
the hell out of both Savannah and the deliveryman standing at the door.

“Quinn, what on earth is wrong?” Savannah asked.

“Sorry, when I couldn’t find you, I got worried.”

“I saw the van drive up. Thought I’d catch him before he rang the doorbell.”

“Everything okay?” the deliveryman asked. Dressed in a brown suit, holding a medium-sized
box, he looked worriedly at the hand Quinn had wrapped around Savannah’s arm.

Releasing her slowly, Quinn held out his hand for the package. “Everything’s fine.”
He grinned and winked conspiratorially. “Christmas present for the wife. I wanted
to make sure she didn’t open it.”

Savannah giggled and said, “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet.”

Grinning at both of them, the man said, “I have to hide the presents from my wife,
too.” He nodded, wished them a good day, and returned to his truck.

Quinn closed the door. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“You did, but it was my fault for not telling you where I was going.” She grinned.
“If you were Zach, you’d be yelling a blue streak about now.”

“And if you were Sam, I’d probably be yelling, too.” Quinn closed his eyes. “Damn … Sam.”
Turning around, he grabbed his phone from the floor, relieved that it wasn’t broken.

Holding the phone to his ear, he said, “Samantha, you there?”

“What the hell happened? I’ve been yelling for the past five minutes.”

“Sorry, delivery truck came by in the middle of you telling me about Dayton. Savannah
was about to open the door.”

The shaky sigh she blew into the phone told him he had scared her, so he wasn’t surprised
when she said, “I’m almost home now. When I couldn’t get you to answer, I jumped in
my car.”

“Sorry about that. Do you need to go back?”

“No, I’ll call Brody and ask him to bring Gibby to the house. Until this thing is
over, I want to keep an eye on her, too.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Quinn pocketed his phone and turned back to Savannah. “You think your husband would
let me leave town?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I’m endangering everyone with my presence.”

Shaking her head, she started back to the kitchen. “No matter where you go, this sick
freak knows who you care about. We Wildes fight together.”

Arguing that he wasn’t a Wilde would do no good. This was the second time she had
included him in the family. And like before, his chest tightened at her words. Having
this kind of support, something he never got from his own family, did something to
his heart.

Quinn followed Savannah back to the kitchen and watched as she took a pair of scissors
from a drawer and began to open the package. She stopped abruptly, gently set the
box on the table, and stepped back.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just noticed that it’s addressed to you.”

“What?”

Glancing down, he saw his name and this address. Why the hell would anyone be sending
anything to him here?

“Hand me those scissors.”

When she complied, he said, “Now open the back door for me.”

Quinn carefully lifted the package and walked out the door, past Savannah’s wide,
frightened eyes. Dammit, if he had any idea that he’d be putting Sam and her family
or anyone in danger by coming here, he would have stayed as far away as possible.

“Maybe we should call a bomb expert or something,” Savannah said.

Even though he’d never felt less like smiling, he threw her a grin. “Used to do these
in my sleep in Iraq.” He nodded at the door. “Go inside, then out the front door.
Stand in the yard, away from the house.”

As soon as the door closed, Quinn began cutting. He’d detected no smell of chemicals
and the package itself weighed less than a pound. Still, he wasn’t about to put Savannah’s
life at risk just because he didn’t think it was an explosive. He’d make damn sure
it was safe before he let her anywhere near it.

The package opened easily. Just as he was about to peer into the opening, an angry
Sam snapped from behind him, “Dammit, Quinn Braddock. What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m opening a package,” he said mildly.

“But what if it—”

“It’s not.” Holding a plastic-wrapped object with the tips of his fingers, he instantly
identified it. “It’s a knife … looks like a butcher’s knife.”

“What?” She came to stand beside him. “Was there a note?”

He lifted the package again, unsurprised to see a piece of paper float out, message
side up. Quinn had seen profane, obscene, and disgusting things in his life, but the
printed words on the paper twisted his stomach unlike anything ever had before.

I’d be honored if you’d use this to gut your girlfriend, Samantha Wilde
.

 … A fan of your work

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

“I need to get the hell away from you and your family.”

“You’re not leaving, Quinn.”

“I’m endangering all of you by being here.”

Samantha sat on the sofa in Quinn’s house. This had been the day from hell and it
wasn’t getting any better. First the altercation with Clark Dayton and then her scare
when she’d called Quinn and had heard him shout her sister’s name. Then, when she
got home, she’d been told he was opening a suspicious package in the backyard. Samantha
had felt like she was slogging in quicksand as she ran around to the back, praying
she could prevent Quinn from opening an explosive.

The knife and its accompanying note hadn’t been an explosive, but they’d had a monumental
impact on them all the same. Brody had taken Savannah and Gibby to Mobile to stay
at his house, with one of his employees guarding them. She and Quinn had round-the-clock
police protection from Midnight’s two deputies, and Zach was out searching for Clark
Dayton and his father, Carl—both of whom had disappeared immediately after the funeral.

And now Quinn was talking about leaving. If she had any extra energy, she’d release
an ear-piercing scream of frustration.

“Look at me, Sam.”

Raising her head, she was surprised to find him sitting on the coffee table right
in front of her.

“I don’t want to go but I don’t want anything to happen to you or your family, either.”

Her eyes roamed over his tired, worried face. Even though exhaustion had etched lines
around his eyes and mouth, he was still the most handsome man in the world to her.
And so very dear.

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