A twig snapped.
Her heart stalled in her chest, and she clamped her lips together on a sob.
***
Frasier Donohue.
Quin tucked his chin and pulled down his baseball cap.With his sunglasses on there was no way Frasier would recognize him.He watched as Frasier tucked his long legs into his SUV and pulled away from the curb in front of his home.
Liam’s enemy.
It seemed unlikely that Liam and Frasier would have had any beef that Quin didn’t know about, but Josie was right—there were very few people in this town who’d kill anyone, let alone a likable dude like Liam.
Frasier was a hunch.Maybe even a fucking stretch.But he had to start somewhere.Quin got out of the car.The street was quiet.A USPS driver dropped off a package five doors down.The mountains hung like a backdrop behind Frasier’s quaint bungalow.The sight was so pretty it almost appeared fake.
Quin had missed the mountains.
Hadn’t missed having a warrant out for his arrest and the whole town hating him.But on loud, busy nights in Denver he’d craved this tranquil atmosphere.He kept his gaze low as he breezed down the walkway to Frasier’s backyard.He unlatched the fence, entered the property, and shut the gate behind him.
Overgrown weeds scattered the perimeter of the backyard.And shit, didn’t the guy own a lawn mower?He made his way to the back door and tried the handle.The door swung open.
Quin froze.
Geez, small-town people were weird.He’d never leave his door unlocked.He listened carefully for a sound but heard nothing.He’d checked Frasier’s social media accounts while he waited for the prick to leave for work.No mention of a girlfriend and all his pictures were selfies—shocking.The dude had an ego the size of Texas.
He closed the door behind him.The scent of old pizza and sour milk struck his senses as he entered the kitchen.Dishes sat on the counter beside the sink, not yet rinsed, and a pizza box took up the top of the stove.He moved through the space toward the bedroom.While the house was quaint due to its location and small size, the interior lacked personal touches.Not that he could blame the dude.He wasn’t one for decorating either.
Quin entered the house’s only bedroom, and the sensation of critter legs skittering over his skin made him ball his hands into fists.Breaking and entering wouldn’t help the case stacked against him, but if there was some evidence pointing to Frasier as Liam’s killer—a motive—he had to find it.
A laptop sat on the end table next to the half-made bed.Quin picked it up and cracked it open.Not password protected.Also not surprising.
He swatted discarded jeans from a foldout chair against the wall and lowered himself into it.First, he went to the saved pictures and scrolled.Nothing but hiking photos and a few of wild animals and some fish Frasier had caught.He went to a folder marked Bonfire 2019.Dark, grainy images filled the screen.The long, T-shaped dock jutting out behind a bonfire and barbeques jogged his memory.Voyer Lake.A hot spot for beach parties in the summer.He’d attended a few in his years since moving to Whistlemore.
The photos had been taken at sunset.Some were clearer than others.He enlarged the pictures and flicked through them one at a time.Why the hell had Frasier snapped so many?
Something caught his eye.He stopped and retreated to the previous photo.Liam’s smile lit the corner of the photo.The top half of his face was cut off, but his dimpled grin was unmistakable.He was smiling down at Josie, whose back was to the camera.
Not a very telling picture.It wasn’t surprising that Josie and Liam had been at the town’s bonfire, so not strange that Frasier had caught a picture of them.But the next photo was another shot of Liam and Josie.Again, Liam’s head was partially cropped out.Josie was on her tiptoes kissing him.
The next photo made his stomach clench.
It was a close-up of Josie’s breasts.The next was of her ass, with Liam’s hand resting at her tailbone.
Sweat collected on Quin’s brow.He wiped it off and kept flicking.The sunset.A group shot.Frasier with one of his friends, Reagan.
He clicked faster then stopped.
The collar of his shirt tightened around his neck.He stood to pace, anger making his skin blaze.It was a zoomed-in shot of Josie.
Her head was thrown back in a laugh, and she held a red plastic cup.
Another photo of her, tucking her hair behind her ear.Another of her tongue wetting her lips.He flicked through ten more frames.All various shots of Josie.
Jesus, fuck.
He pulled out the thumb drive that dangled from his keychain and downloaded the whole folder.He’d go through the rest of the pictures later.Josie had to see this.The light on the thumb drive blinked, and he removed the device.
The outside gate slammed.Quin leaped to his feet and moved the blinds aside just as Frasier walked past.
