Her Private Avenger

  “You tell us,” Quinn answered.

  Kerr’s eyes flashed. “Neither of those is true. I don’t know what wild-goose chase my daughter has sent you on, Adam, but you’re an intelligent man. What motive could I possibly have for killing my daughter’s friend?”

  “Your daughter is standing right here,” Morgan snapped, suddenly livid. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d quit acting like I’m not in the room.” She clenched her fists, pressing them to her side. “What did you do to Layla, Dad?”

  He’s gaze slid back to her. “I did not harm a hair on that girl’s head, and I’d appreciate it, young lady, if you didn’t accuse me of crimes I did not commit.”

  She took a step forward and slammed the necklace on the desk. “How did she get this, Dad?”

  His voice stayed even. “I don’t know.”

  “What happened in the woods that day?”

  “For God’s sake, Morgan—”

  “Did you get angry at her? Was she going to tell everyone about your affair? Or perhaps she was trying to end it, and you didn’t like that so—”

  “Stop right this instant!” The senator’s eyes blazed with fury. “I did not kill that girl, you hear me? And if you don’t drop this right now, Morgan, I will drag you right back to the psychiatric ward and have you put on medication.”

  Morgan’s entire body began to shake. She’d expected a denial from him, but threats? Rage spiraled inside her, pricking at her insides like a hundred little knives. From the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn, still leaning against the bookshelf. He didn’t say a word, didn’t come to her rescue, and when she glanced over, she noticed a peculiar look in his eyes. He seemed puzzled, thoughtful, but she was too furious to question where his head was at right now.

  She glared at her father. “Don’t you dare threaten me. I am not crazy. I know it, and you know it, and if you try to have me committed again, I swear I will go to the media and do everything I possibly can to destroy your precious image.”

  Her father shook his head angrily. “This has got to stop, Morgan.”

  “Just look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t have anything to do with Layla’s death.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t—”

  “Look me in the eye,” she snapped.

  Slowly he lifted his head and locked his gaze to hers. He said nothing.

  “Did you have anything to do with Layla’s death?” she repeated, each word coming out as sharp as a needle.

  “No, I did not.”

  Although his gaze never wavered, Morgan suddenly felt as if the floor beneath her feet was about to collapse. She’d seen it. Practically imperceptible, but she’d become a master at studying her father’s expressions. And it was there.

  The tiniest flicker of guilt.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, swallowing back a wave of utter sickness. “You’re lying. Damn it, Dad, what the hell did you do?”

  Wrath lit up his eyes. With an uncharacteristic curse, he slammed both hands on the desktop, then stumbled to his feet. “Enough!” A shaky wrinkled hand reached for the telephone. “I’m calling the hospital and—”

  “Don’t bother,” she interrupted, edging away from the desk as nausea continued to wreak havoc on her stomach. “I’m leaving.

  “Like hell you are,” her father snapped.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to the press,” she said, acid dripping from her tone. “I won’t tar and feather you. Not tonight anyway. I just can’t stand the sight of you right now.”

  “Morgan—”

  “Hang up the phone, Dad, or I call every contact I have and tell them that my father, Senator Edward Kerr, killed a teenage girl ten years ago.”

  She headed for the door. Quinn left his spot by the bookcase and joined her, and she almost jumped at the sound of his footsteps. He’d barely said a word during this entire confrontation, she’d almost forgotten he was here.

  “Don’t you dare walk out that door, Morgan,” her father thundered from across the room.

  “Try and stop me,” she shot back before crossing the threshold. She slammed the door behind her and sagged against the wall, gasping for air.

  “Hey, breathe now,” Quinn urged quietly. But he didn’t try and touch her. After their discussion in the car, it had become painfully obvious that their affair was over and done with.

  “He’s guilty,” she whispered after she steadied her breathing.

  Quinn chewed the inside of his cheek. “I’m not sure.”

  “I saw it in his eyes. He’s lying, Quinn. He knows what happened to her.”

  “Perhaps. But I’m not convinced he’s the one who killed her.”

  Morgan blinked back tears. “Honestly, I’m not sure it matters. Either way, I’m through with him.”

  Quinn didn’t answer.

  “I’m serious,” she insisted. “I can’t deal with his crap anymore. All he’s ever cared about is himself, and I’m done trying to be the good daughter. Screw him.” A wave of anger swelled inside her. “And you know what, Quinn? Screw you, too.”

  He seemed taken aback. “Where the hell did that come from?” he demanded.

  “You said you forgave me, but that’s not true,” she shot back. “If you did, you wouldn’t be so against the idea of getting back together. So it’s over, okay? I’ve apologized, I’ve told you how much I love you, but I can’t undo the past, and if you’re not willing to give us a future with a clean slate, then there’s no point in trying.”

  She brushed past him, but he grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “My apartment,” she said tersely. “And don’t offer to drive me home. I’ll take a cab.”

  His green eyes flickered with alarm. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Why not?” A lump lodged in her throat. “I’ve been alone for the past two years. Thanks for your help in Autumn, but you’re right, it’s time

  “What about your father, the case?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll call Jake and tell him about the necklace.” She gave a sour smile. “But we both know the investigation will turn up nothing. If my father killed Layla, he’ll never be punished for it. But I know the truth, and I’ll never forget it. Now please let go of my arm.”

  Reluctantly, Quinn released her, still looking uncertain. “I don’t think you should go.”

  She looked him square in the eye and asked, “Do you love me, Quinn? Do you want to be with me?” He hesitated.

  It was all she needed.

  “That’s what I thought,” she muttered. “Goodbye, Quinn.”

  Quinn stared at Morgan’s retreating back. With her shoulders straight and head held high, she looked like a warrior leaving a battlefield, defeated, yet still able to take the loss with honor and dignity. He wanted to rush after her, but he forced himself to stay put.

  He loved her. He was surprised she’d even asked, considering half the time he felt as if his feelings were written across his face in permanent marker. But love wasn’t enough. He’d loved both his parents, and they’d thrown him away like a piece of trash. As much as he cared about Morgan, he cared about self-preservation more. He’d opened his heart to her once, and look what happened.

  He couldn’t do it again.

  He was better off alone, anyway. Leave town, that’s what he needed to do. He’d call Murphy, fly off to another hot zone and go back to work.

  But he couldn’t leave until he made sure Morgan was safe, which was the driving force behind his decision to walk back into Edward Kerr’s office.

  The senator, still behind his desk, frowned when Quinn entered the room. “What now?” Kerr demanded.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Quinn stood in front of Morgan’s father, with the same expression of distaste he’d sported only days ago when he was summoned out of the blue. “I need you to promise me something.”

  Kerr snorted. “Don’t count on it.”

  “Promise to leave Morgan alone,” he said, ignoring the sarcasm. “You can’t have he
r committed again.”

  “I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m her father.”

  “Sending her to a hospital won’t shut her up.” Quinn offered a cheerless smile. “Besides, if I find out you sent her back, I’ll spill the story myself. I’m a lot harder to shut up, senator.”

  “I didn’t kill that girl,” Kerr said between clenched teeth.

  Quinn studied the older man’s face. “You know, I think I might actually believe you.”

  Kerr was momentarily surprised, then scowled. “Then you’re a lot saner than my daughter. Yet again she’s allowed her delusions to—”

  “But she’s right,” Quinn interrupted, shooting the senator a cool stare. “You know something about Layla’s death.”

  “Oh, for the love of God…”

  Quinn tilted his head pensively. “Who was it? Sheriff Wilkinson? Are you covering for him in order to have the law under your thumb? Or maybe it was—”

  “Get out,” Kerr said coldly.

  He grinned. “Ah, I’m hitting a nerve. You do know who killed that poor girl.”

  A pair of blue eyes shot daggers at him. “I said get out, Adam.”

  “In a minute. First I need you to promise you won’t do anything to hurt her.”

  The senator tightened his lips. “I won’t commit her. But I will encourage her to leave town.”

  “Believe me, she won’t need much encouragement,” Quinn said drily.

  Kerr shrugged.

  “You truly don’t give a damn about her, do you, Senator?” Quinn shook his head in amazement. “She’s your daughter.”

  “She’s a nuisance,” Kerr snapped. “She always has been.”

  “You’re a selfish son of a bitch, you know that?”

  Still shaking his head, Quinn drifted to the door. He paused to toss a final warning over his shoulder. “I’m not kidding. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, and if I hear you sent her away, I will tell the press what we found in Autumn.”

  He strode out of the office. Made sure his footsteps were particularly audible as he headed for the elevator. Punching the down button, he waited for the doors to ding open, then ducked into the car, jammed on the “close door” button and ducked right out before the doors slid shut. Walking without making a sound, he crept back toward Kerr’s office. He’d left the door ajar, and as he’d predicted, Morgan’s father had gone straight to the phone.

  Quinn had seen something in the other man’s eyes, that same flicker of guilt Morgan glimpsed, but unlike Morgan, he wasn’t content with walking away until he knew for sure what happened to Layla Simms.

  He flattened his back to the wall and slid toward Kerr’s door. The senator spoke in a hushed tone, garbled words that Quinn couldn’t quite make out. He waited patiently. Like his daughter, Kerr had a temper, and it wouldn’t be long until his voice raised in some sort of outburst.

  “Damn it!”

  Yep, there it was. Quinn hid a smile.

  “I forbid you,” the senator was snapping. “It’s just a damn necklace, do you hear me? Don’t do anything stupid.” A pause. “I’ve covered your ass for ten years. Christ, you won’t go to jail. I won’t let you.” Another pause. “Of course I’m thinking about my career! I refuse to lose everything I’ve worked hard for because you made a stupid mistake

  Quinn narrowed his eyes. So the senator had indeed been involved in Layla’s death, in the cover-up at least. But who the hell killed her? Jake? Grady Parker?

  The answer to the question became painfully clear from the senator’s next words.

  “The stunt you pulled on that bridge was the last straw. Stay away from your sister, do you understand me?” A long beat. “Goddamn it, Anthony, stay put. I’ll take care of it, just like I always do.”

  Chapter 17

  Morgan had never felt lonelier as she wandered around her dark apartment. She was on edge, too restless to sit on the couch, too pissed off to sleep, too angry to eat. She’d taken a shower when she got home, hoping the hot water would ease the tension plaguing her back and shoulders. The shower hadn’t helped. Not surprising. How was a shower supposed to make her forget everything that happened the last couple of weeks?

  Her father had been involved in her best friend’s death. Probably hired someone to drive his own daughter off a bridge.

  And Quinn…he was gone.

  Talk to him again.

  The urgent voice in her head gave her pause. Should she? Quinn was as stubborn as she was, and he’d made it clear he didn’t want her back in his life, but could she change his mind? And did she even want to? She’d bared her soul to him so many times the past few days, practically handed him her heart on a silver platter. And each time he’d sent that platter back to the kitchen like a dissatisfied restaurant customer.

  Could she really face another rejection?

  The sound of the doorbell chimed through the apartment, bringing a surge of hope so strong she would have been embarrassed under any other circumstances. But if Quinn was on the other side of that door, she suspected she would suffer any humiliation if it meant hearing him tell her he loved her.

  She smoothed her hair, a self-conscious gesture that unnerved her. Don’t beg, she ordered herself, then walked to the front door on shaky legs. She’d latched the chain, so the door widened only a few inches, but enough for her to see the visitor wasn’t Quinn. Her hope dissipated like smoke from a dying fire. Instead of a pair of familiar green eyes, she found herself looking at a pair of familiar blue ones.

  “Hey, Tony, let me get the chain,” she sighed, unhooking the latch to let her brother in.

  She immediately sensed the agitation spilling out of him. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his black wool coat. Sweat lined his forehead, a damp sheen that suggested he’d either sprinted here from his apartment, which was eight blocks away, or else he was unbelievably nervous.

  “You okay?” she asked as she shut the door.

  “Not really,” Tony mumbled, trailing her into the den.

  She wanted to apologize for the clutter—she was a voracious reader and books covered nearly everyurface of the cozy room. But Tony seemed oblivious to his surroundings. He shifted, his evident distress making her uneasy.

  “Well, you’re about to feel worse,” she confessed. “I need to tell you something…about Dad….”

  “I just spoke to him.” Tony met her eyes, his expression resembling that of a betrayed employee who’d just been wrongfully dismissed. “How could you do this to me, Morgan?”

  She faltered. “What?”

  Her brother began to pace the plush dark red carpet. His eyes were wild. “Why did you have to keep poking around in the case? Why couldn’t you leave it alone?”

  Pushing aside her hardcover edition of Great Expectations, she slowly sank to the couch. “Look, I don’t know what Dad told you, but he’s lying. He was involved in Layla’s death. I don’t know whether he killed her, but—”

  “He didn’t kill her!”

  She softened her tone. “I know you don’t want to believe it. I didn’t, either. But Quinn and I found Mom’s necklace in Layla’s things. Dad must have given it to her.”

  Tony abruptly stopped pacing, a wondrous expression filling his eyes. “She kept it,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. In fact, he looked as if he were somewhere else, somewhere very far away. “She told me she threw it in the river…I knew she was lying. She wouldn’t have done that.”

  “Who?” She blinked, puzzled. “Are you talking about Mom?”

  “Layla.” He breathed out the name like he was speaking about a divine God.

  An icy fist of fear curled in her belly. “Tony, what are you talking about?” She swallowed. “Oh, God. What did you do?”

  His eyes snapped back into focus as he looked at her in outrage. “Me? It wasn’t what I did. She was going to leave me!”

  Morgan’s heart began to thud, a sharp staccato that drummed in her ears. She w
asn’t hearing this. He couldn’t possibly be saying any of this. Because if he was, then that meant…

  “You killed her,” she choked out.

  Nausea pooled in her gut like rainwater in a gutter. Tony. Tony killed Layla. Tony killed Layla.

  “She was going to leave me!” His voice came out in a long wail more suited to a child than a thirty-year-old man.

  Or an eighteen-year-old boy who’d just lost his mother. That’s where she recognized that anguished voice, those tortured words from. She left me. Tony had sobbed those words over and over again in the days and weeks following their mother’s death.

  “You were involved with Layla?” Morgan whispered.

  “We were seeing each other for three months.” Tony resumed his pacing. “The day she died was our three-month anniversary.”

  “You mean the day you killed her,” Morgan said, nearly gagging on the words.

  His eyes blazed. “I couldn’t let her leave! She wanted to go back to Jake. Jake, the jock with nothing but air between his ears!”

  Morgan shook her head. “Why didn’t she tell me about you two? Why didn’t you?”

  Tony gave a soft, tender smile that made Morgan’s blood run cold. “We wanted to keep it a secret. A special secret just between us.”

  “But Dad knew?”

  Consternation lined his forehead. “I had to tell him. After Layla left me, I—”

  “After you killed her!” Morgan interrupted heatedly.

  “After she left me,” he continued, ignoring her outburst, “I called Dad. He came to the woods and helped me take care of everything.”

  Morgan felt like throwing up. Take care of everything? As in bury a teenage girl’s body in the forest and then claim to know nothing about her disappearance? Horror pulsed through her. She couldn’t believe this. Her brother killed her best friend, and her father helped cover it up. What the hell kind of people was she related to?

  Rage pounded through her blood. Despite the fact that it was Tony who took Layla’s life, she suddenly felt like throttling her father. Tony had evidently been more affected by their mother’s death than she’d thought, his outward depression shadowing the mental breakdown beneath the surface. He’d snapped when he killed Layla, and what had her father done? Swept the entire mess under the rug in order to protect his precious image. Tony had needed help, damn it! Not a free pass.