His smile curved wider as he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You’d better be careful,” he crooned, his voice low. “You wouldn’t want her to end up like the last one.”
He almost whispered the words, but they hit me like a lance to the chest.
My clenched fist trembled beneath the table as I stared at him—the monster. It shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew about my past. What surprised me was that he hadn’t brought it up until now. The man seemed able to buy any kind of information he wanted, even from a jail cell.
He snickered, then glanced over his shoulder at the guards standing behind him. “I think we’re done here for today,” he said, casually.
I let him go without a word. He wasn’t going to help me. He wouldn’t freely give away the information I wanted.
I was going to have to fight for it.
Backinmyofficeat Hearthstone later that day, I was failing at getting any good work done. Files were scattered across my desk. In the past couple of years, I’ve been doing more for the company and dialing back on my clinical work. After everything with the Shadow Stalker, I was getting burnt-out in the prisons and hospital settings. August helped facilitatecontracted work for me in all different areas. Most of it I could do remotely, but that didn’t mean it was easy.
I had three ongoing cases this month: a corporate case, a violence threat assessment for a private individual, and attorney-contracted forensic analysis. Not to mention another ongoing advisory case. Between all that and helping Detective Whize figure out who might’ve attacked Quinn, I was running on fumes.
It didn’t help that I was still agitated from the meeting with Anderson. My skin felt too tight for my body.
You wouldn’t want her to end up like the last one.
His words echoed in my mind.
He reveled in the information he could get, and with his money and connections, he could find out almost anything about anyone. I just hadn’t realized he was interested enough in me to look.
I dragged a hand through my hair, my gaze landing on a file in front of me without really seeing it.
Amos had managed to entwine himself so tightly with my family, particularly after my brothers had fallen in love with two of his direct victims. It was almost as if he wanted to slowly choke the life out of all of us.
Despite everything I had testified to on the stand the day I met Quinn, my judgment was compromised when it came to him.
I looked up at the sound of my name.
August stood in the doorway of my office, his bulky arms crossed over his chest. His jaw was tight, stormy-gray eyes dark.
Tension immediately coiled through my body at the sight of him. Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” I forced calm into my voice. I was used to hiding stress from my brothers. I was the composed one—the logical pillar of steadiness when the rest of them weren’t sure where to turn.
August shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I had a discussion with Whize.” He sounded on edge. “I’m sure you know, but he brought Jake in for questioning.”
A muscle in my cheek rippled as I clenched my jaw. I leaned back in my chair. “Quinn was attacked a few nights ago.”
August tensed. I hadn’t spoken about the attack to anyone but Whize. Quinn didn’t want me to, but if August had talked to Jake—he had to know.
August scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry about that, but…” He shook his head. “I wish you would’ve come to us about it. Jake’s been having a hard enough time, Graham. He didn’t need to be dragged into the station like that.”
I forced myself to push down the rush of emotions welling in my chest, threatening to crest over and smother me. I pretended I didn’t feel it, anything to stay in control.
I stared at my brother, who I’d do anything for. This wasn’t really about August—I knew that. It was about Emersyn, the love of his life. It was about everything Amos Anderson had put her through.
This wasn’t August’s fault. It was the serial killer’s. The man who had ruined so much of this town, and so many good people.
“I had to let Whize know about my suspicions of Jake,” I said evenly.
“You could’ve asked me first.” His voice was almost as sharp as his stare—like edged steel. “I’ve been looking after him. If I thought there was a chance he’d done something like that, I would’ve told you.”
I tilted my head, studying him. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days.
“You have enough to deal with,” I muttered. “I didn’t want to add more to your plate if I could avoid it. Whize is good at his job. I trust him.”
