I suspected he was thinking about his sister, Bethany. Did Gregor Quinn have anything to do with her disappearance? If he did, his life expectancy was even shorter than it was a few minutes ago.
"If that's the case, we can also look into Wolfgang’s associates," Forrest said. "Can you think of anyone in particular who was especially dubious?"
I twirled some hair around my finger while I thought. "There were a couple of them," I said finally. My heart thudded in my chest. Was there any chance…
"Who is it?" Leif asked gently. He must have seen the expression on my face, the hint of pain along with reluctance.
"My father was good friends with Wolfgang," I said slowly. "I always wondered whether there was some reason he gave me to him. It was sudden. There was definitely… I don't know. Like I was there to make up for something."
Very articulate,I told myself. They got the idea though.
"You think your father did something Wolfgang didn't like?" Forrest asked.
His jaw was set firm, but there was an air of suppressed violence about him, like he was about to take the keys of Woody's car, drive back to the city, and kill my father.
"I could be completely wrong," I said before he could do anything too hasty. "He might not have anything to do with this."
"But he also might," Forrest said. "They have a house down here, don't they? Your parents."
"They do," I said. "They've owned it for years. I haven't been there recently. Not since they renovated it. I hear it's very nice." Of course it was. My parents wouldn't buy anything less than stunning. They probably had staff all year round, maintaining the place in case they got the urge to travel down to the beach.
"If you called them, would they come down here?" Forrest asked.
I licked my lips. "They usually hold a party at this time of year. I could speak to them and get us invited."
"Hell yeah," Leif said. "I get to go to a party after all." He punched the air.
Forrest stepped over and crouched in front of me. One hand on the table, the other on the back of my neck. "I know this will be difficult, but if we can have a conversation with them, we might be able to rule them out."
"Or in," Woody added.
Forrest sighed, but he didn't refute the suggestion.
"We need to do what we need to do," I said. "If theyareinvolved…" I didn't need to finish that sentence. We all knew what had to happen.
I was less than happy about it. Leif turned and added two more names to the board: Camilla and Benjamin Kohl.
Seeing their names up there in purple ink made all of this seem surreal.
My parents and I never got along, but were they really the kind of people who'd sell women? I already knew the answer to that. They sold me to Wolfgang without hesitation. If they did that to stay in his good graces, so they could continue trafficking, then they were worse than I suspected. If they weren't involved, I needed to know that too, because I didn't want to go on thinking they were complete monsters.
In the back of my mind, though, I found it hard to pin down a doubt. Too many things added up. Late nights, never saying where they'd been. Quiet discussions that stopped the minute I entered a room. And the money, so much money.
"Did your parents know Gregor Quinn?" Urban asked with a lot less sympathy than my guys showed. Even Noah appeared regretful, like we'd opened a can of worms he wished we hadn't.
"I don't know for sure, but I think so," I said. "They were friends with Wolfgang and he was friends with Quinn. Chances were they knew each other."
"They probably went to all the same parties," Woody said. "That asshole factory is starting to seem more plausible. It's a rich asshole factory."
"Plenty of assholes aren't rich," Noah pointed out. He gave Woody, then Urban a meaningful but teasing look. They both flipped him off, almost in unison.
I forced back a smile.
"I'm rich in personality," Woody said.
"Yes, you are." I leaned over to pat his muscular bicep.
Urban snorted.
