West ushered Quinn outside while Rex remained on the porch. Phone to his ear, West made the call.
“Finn? I’m at Pine Paradise. Cabin number seven, where Quinn stayed last year with her sister. I found a jacket belonging to Demi Colton.”
West’s stomach lurched at Finn’s next words.
“We got a tip today from an anonymous caller, anonymous for now, who gave us very specific information on cabin seven. He said he saw Demi there a few days ago when he was making a delivery to a resort in the area. I’ll send a team straightaway.”
He thumbed off the phone.
West turned to his fiancée, the woman he loved. The woman who at this moment could have helped to harbor a fugitive from the law.
“Finn told me someone called in a tip. Demi was seen in this area.”
Quinn’s gaze widened. “My sister was here?”
“The jacket and those items in the closet seem to indicate so. Why is Demi’s jacket here, Quinn?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice rose slightly. “I can’t remember anything, West. Why would Demi be here?”
It’s a good place to hide out and if she had a hand in planting that bomb...
If he’d thought Quinn was innocent of hiding information on the whereabouts of her sister, seeing Demi’s jacket changed his mind.
Eyes wide, Quinn shook her head. “I have no idea how it got there!”
“You lost your memory and you wouldn’t remember. Not now,” he told her. “But think. Does this cabin trigger anything to you? Anything Demi said to you that would lead her back here to hide out?”
Quinn bit her lip. “No.”
They walked to the truck to wait for the Red Ridge police officers. Quinn was trembling, so he removed his windbreaker jacket and put it over her shoulders. Getting her agitated would not solve anything.
West started talking about the fishing trips he’d taken, to calm her frazzled nerves. Get her to relax. But Quinn remained staring at the cabin, huddled into his jacket.
Finally a convoy of police cars arrived. He briefed Finn on what he’d found as crime scene techs began dusting the doorknob for prints. He took a pair of latex gloves to cover his hands and preserve any additional evidence found.
West returned to his truck and a visibly upset Quinn. “Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll finish soon and take you back.”
With all the police swarming over the cabin, he knew Demi wouldn’t return. Nor would anyone threaten Quinn.
But it wasn’t looking good for her. If only her memory would return, he could question her, watch her face to see if she told the truth.
The cabin smelled musty with disuse. Yet his gut told him someone had been here, holing up and making bombs in the woods.
Frustrated, West looked around the living room as the other officers began working the scene.
He had more questions than answers, but at least a starting place.
Whoever had been here had left it clean. No dirt on the wood floor, not a speck of dust on the table. Bathroom was clean as well, with fresh towels hanging on the rack and no water droplets in the sink or shower.
It made sense that Demi would use the cabin as a hiding place, since she’d been here with Quinn previously. If she had informed her brothers, they wouldn’t have told him.
He went into the bedroom where Demi’s jacket had hung in the closet. Crime scene techs were dusting everything. The cabin, isolated and hidden from the main road, made a perfect hiding place.
West swept his flashlight over the room as the techs worked in the closet. He went to the bureau by the window and opened drawers.
Empty, except for the top one that contained a hairbrush.
West picked up the brush, which bore strands of long red hair. He knew of only one woman purported to have hair that color. A woman on the run.
Demi Colton.
He returned to the living room and watched Brayden comb through the cabin, he studied the man to see if his fellow officer hid evidence. He didn’t trust the Coltons. The only Colton he did trust was Quinn. But Brayden was shadowed by a fellow K-9 officer West trusted.
West glanced at Rex. “Too crowded in here. Let’s head outside.”
Rex wagged his tail.
If the unsub used this cabin, Rex would detect even the smallest amount of explosive residue left behind. As Rex sniffed the ground, West searched the ground for inorganic evidence. Something as simple as a cigarette butt contained DNA evidence.
One of the officers came forward. “Found this. What do you make of it?”
Sunlight glinted off the object. Foil, looked like a gum wrapper twisted into something. He smelled it. Interesting. Fruity.
“Bag it as evidence,” he told the officer.
Might be nothing, only a litterbug’s discards.
Or it could be something.
He ordered Rex to find as they searched the perimeter of the cabin once more.
West smelled the redolent odor of pine, fresh mountain air and little else. But Rex, with his keen sense of smell, could pick up days-old traces of gunpowder.
After a few minutes, when the dog had not stopped, West began thinking he’d been too cautious. Suddenly Rex lifted his head and stared in the direction of the woods. West immediately went on alert.
“Find,” he ordered, and the dog bolted.
West followed. Nose to the ground, Rex kept loping along a narrow trail cutting through the forest leading down to the creek. Leaves crunched beneath West’s boot soles as he scanned the area. Ferns and bushes brushed at the legs of his jeans. The trail was little used and barely visible, but for the flattened stalks of plants.
Someone had been here recently.
Could be the cabin’s occupant used this trail to access the creek to fish. Or something else...something that caught Rex’s attention.
Rex clambered down a few rocks and then hooked a left around the bend. Leaves rustled overhead in the breeze and he could hear the gurgling of Pine Creek.
West climbed down the rocks, saw the sparkle of sunlight upon the rushing water tumbling over rocks. Beneath a recess in the cliff wall, Rex sat. The rock alcove looked natural, carved out by nature. Part of the wall had eroded, leaving a flat ledge big enough to accommodate two people. Hidden by thick brush, the recess wasn’t visible until you rounded the corner.
Made a great place for nature lovers to share romantic moments with each other...or for an unsub to make a bomb.
“Good boy,” he murmured, giving Rex his favorite treat. West crouched down to study the remains of what would look like a campfire to most people.
Taking out his penknife from a back pocket, West stirred the ashes on the ground. This location next to the creek was ideal for anyone wanting to make bombs. Close enough to water in case of an oops. Far enough away from prying eyes and ears. One could set off a small explosion, and even with the sound echoing off the canyon cliffs, it would be mistaken for gunfire, something not unusual in these parts, just like the gunshots he’d heard the other night. Plenty of people in South Dakota owned guns. They just didn’t advertise it like some folks did.
He sniffed the residue on his penknife. Oh yeah. The same distinctive bleach odor indicating a bomb.
West found a small cylinder. Whoever had done this was probably the bomber. He couldn’t be certain if the residue was fresh, not without lab tests. Maybe he’d rented the cabin in the past. And although Tia might have records of that transaction, the papers had been destroyed in the explosion. The computer had been blown apart.
With extreme care, West dug up the residue and deposited it into a plastic baggie. More evidence for the FBI lab.
Demi Colton could have used the cabin, and possibly made explosives here, down by the creek, washing her hands in the cold water to dispose of residue.
But Rex would have picked up the slightest bit of explosive residue in the cabin. He had not. The dog’s nose was so sensitive, Rex could discern a teaspoon of sugar placed into a swimming pool.
So why was Demi’s jacket in cabin seven?
Checking his cell phone, he saw a good signal. And Mike had left a voice mail.
He dialed her number.
As usual, his boss didn’t waste time. “DNA on the butterfly compact matched the hair sample you gave me of Quinn Colton. It’s definitely hers. We didn’t find any other DNA on it and the fingerprints were too smudged.”
Fingers tightened on the cell phone. He wanted to ask if she was certain, or if there had been a mistake. He knew better. DNA was conclusive.
Damn, the evidence was stacking against Quinn, placing her in the first bomb site. He closed his eyes, wishing he’d been wrong. But he’d known all along the compact was hers. She needed to regain her memory.
Maybe there was a legitimate reason she’d been at the first bomb site. Right. Quinn had been there delivering meals to her sister, the Groom Killer.
She’s innocent until proven guilty. There’s no proof of anything.
“Where are you?” Mike asked. “I called the station. They told me you took a few days off.”
“I’m out at Pine Paradise Cabins, the property Tia was selling.” He paused. “I went there with Quinn to trigger her memory since she stayed here last year. I found Demi’s jacket inside.”
West took a deep breath. Damn, this was hard, accusing his fiancée, but he had his duty. “The same jacket that had been in Quinn’s closet recently.”
“Which means either Quinn used it to visit the cabin herself, or Demi stole it back, or she gave her sister back the jacket. More than likely it’s the last,” Mike said in her dry voice.
“I’m near the creek with Rex. He alerted to explosive powder. Found remains of materials for a TATP bomb in a rock alcove. But no alerts on the cabin itself. Nothing.”
“So if Demi made the bomb, she could have washed herself clean of residue.”
West frowned. “I doubt it. Rex is too trained and sensitive. He would have found something in the cabin.”
“Has Quinn remembered anything?” Mike asked.
“Bits and pieces from childhood. Nothing concrete, except she did recall the unsub’s face before the building blew.”
“Huh.”
Not caring for that “Huh,” he paced. “Get to the point, Mike.”
“Odd that Quinn remembered the unsub and remembers nothing else. Mighty strange. Maybe that memory is one she made up, to throw you off, lead all you ganders on a wild-goose chase to throw off suspicion from Quinn’s sister.”
“That is the stupidest idea you’ve had in a long time, Mike. Did she let herself get blown up, too?”
“I’ll let that slide, West, because you’re stressed. But you’re not separating yourself from this case. You’re too close to the players and not thinking clearly. I sent you there to get friendly with the people in town, investigate Demi Colton’s relatives on the police force, and now you’re too involved.”
“Get off my back, Mike. I do my job.” He struggled with his temper. “They’re sending the evidence to our lab for analysis.”
“I’m coming there.”
West’s heart dropped to his stomach. Aw hell no. “Not a good idea. People will talk.”
“The way they’re now talking about you and Quinn Colton?”
He glanced around. “Who’s talking?”
“Everyone, West. I paid a little visit to Red Ridge a few days ago on my way back from Casper, hung out in Rusty’s bar...”
West felt his heart kick harder against his ribs. “Checking up on me? You should have given me a heads-up.”
“Why? So you would have a chance to pretend there was nothing between you two?”
“No, so I could have invited you over for dinner, had you and Quinn do your nails, let her hear from you how I’m here to secretly investigate her family. You know, girl talk.”
Silence on the other end. He didn’t give a damn. Everything had gone south since the day Quinn walked into Tia’s office. Each day he struggled between his personal feelings for Quinn and his dedication to getting the job done.
Seeing justice delivered.
Mike sighed. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, West. You’re too taciturn.”
“Not anymore. I’m a real chatterbox these days, Mike.”
“A chatterbox in bed? Pillow talk goes both ways, West.”
Good thing Mike wasn’t in the room, because he wanted to throttle her. Right now he was ready to climb through the phone. “I never bring home the job. And that’s not why I fell in love with Quinn Colton.”
There, he’d said it aloud. Why not? Best to clear the air with Mike. Level with her.
“I fell in love with her, but the job didn’t come between us. I haven’t told her why I’m really in Red Ridge because I’m not one hundred percent certain she doesn’t know where her sister is hiding. And now that we know her DNA was on the compact powder puff, and the compact was hers or she did use it, I need to grill her harder. But until she gets her damn memory back, that’s not possible!”
He told her about the attack on Quinn, and the reason for taking her to hide in the cabin.
“There’s a good chance being out here, where she came before, will trigger her memory.”
“You’d better hope she does remember soon. And not only because someone is after her, West. Because if Quinn Colton is hiding her sister, you need to find out. I know you care about her...but the job comes first.”
“The day I stop doing my job is the day I’ll personally hand you my shield, Mike.”
A heavy sigh came over the phone. “I know you, West. That’s why I stopped at the bar, to hear the town gossips to confirm what I already know. I study behavior for kicks and giggles, and you’re a classic case of ‘West Brand is clearly bonkers over a woman.’”
“I’m not bonkers. I love her—” he dragged in a deep breath “—but my head is clear.”
“Regardless, I’m coming there to see for myself.”
Nothing would deter Mike. Woman was like a hound dog. He told her and then hung up.
He made another call, informed Finn what he’d found. Minutes later, techs swarmed over the scene. West gripped Rex’s leash as he led the dog around the trail, but Rex found no other residue, except for a small spot near the creek.
The unsub had clearly washed off. He left the others to secure the scene and returned with Quinn to their cabin. They didn’t talk on the drive over. West was too busy mulling over troubling thoughts.
Was Demi firing her gun at someone? Was that the gunfire he’d heard?
An intruder? Or killing game to survive? Did Quinn aid her fugitive sister? Or was it the bomber?
Until Quinn retrieved her memory, they were clueless. But there was still the security footage at her apartment.
If Quinn had taken the jacket out to give to her sister, they’d have a digital record of it.
But as he pulled in front of the cabin, Quinn finally spoke. “Am I under arrest?”
West drew in a deep breath. “No. But I will tell you, it doesn’t look good for you.”
“What’s going to happen to me, West?”
He slid his palm over hers. “Nothing. Not for now. They’ll take the evidence to the lab, work it over. See what they find.”
Once inside, he worked on his laptop as Quinn cut photos from magazines for her vision board.
Was Quinn lying to him about Demi? Did she distrust him, wanted to throw him off Demi’s trail? What if she had returned the jacket to Demi—cold, alone and on the run? Somehow it had made its way into the cabin.
Yet the items he found didn’t paint a complete picture. If Demi had stayed there with her new baby, why were there only diapers and no other baby items? Unless she’d fled in a hurry and took everything with her.
After an hour, he closed his laptop. Quinn sat at the table, studying the board.
“Dr. Ross said to create a vision board of what little past I can remember. Why do I keep adding him?”
She pointed to the faces creating the collage on the poster board. West’s blood ran cold.
Each photo bore a strong resemblance to the same identifying characteristics as the man Quinn had described to the police sketch artist. All were scowling, angry. The therapist encouraged her to create a board linking her to the past.
Maybe Quinn’s subconscious couldn’t erase the dark-haired man. Or he had a greater significance, one she couldn’t yet place.
“What do you remember of him? Close your eyes and tell me.” Don’t push her. Don’t scare her.
“Smoke, thick, gagging. Nasty look to him, as if he wanted to hurt people. He scared me a little. I...had to get to Tia.”
“Why? Why did he scare you, Quinn? What was he doing to Tia that made you open that door to go inside, instead of turning and calling the police?”
“I—I don’t know!”
Scraps of paper littered the table. A small frown dented her brow as she opened her eyes. “West, what’s wrong with me? Will I ever get my life together?”
The whispered plea tore at him. “It will take time. You have to believe your memory will return, honey.”
The frown deepened. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t stress about it.”
“No. I mean, I didn’t know.” She pointed to the photos on the board. “I remember thinking that I’d seen him before, but couldn’t recall where. And then I opened the door and pow!”
West considered himself a good judge of character. He’d undergone behavioral analysis training at Quantico, knew how to watch a subject to see if the pulse jumped, the eyes darted, or stiffened, rubbed his eyes or nose.
He knew Quinn, at least he thought he did. Guile wasn’t in Quinn’s personality. She embraced honesty and directness.
“Quinn, do you know where Demi is? Have you been helping her hide?”
Her eyes widened. “No. I—I don’t think so. How could you even ask me that?”
“Because you said you wished to get closer to her. If she asked you to help her, would you? Or turn her over to the police?”
Quinn’s mouth wobbled precariously. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done before, West. Maybe. I don’t know how her jacket got in the cabin. All I know is I remember wanting to get closer to her, and failing. So what does that make me? A suspect?”
West’s heart jumped as his pragmatic side reeled in emotions. “I don’t know. That would be determined after you recover your memory.”
A wry smile touched her lips. “Sounds like a good reason not to fully recover.” Quinn sighed. “But I’ll face whatever I must. I don’t care. I only want to get better, West.”
He had no more answers than before.
A car lumbered up the roadway. Quinn frowned. “Does anyone know we’re here? Besides your friend?”
“Mike.” He felt his stomach lurch with hard anxiety. “Mike is my boss with the FBI.”
“Your boss. Mike is the one you were talking with in the hospital room when you thought I was asleep.”
Aw damn. West fisted his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me, West? What’s going on that you’re so secretive? I overheard you talking with someone named Mike about getting closer to me to find out what I know about my sister’s disappearance.”
Stomach knotting, he waited for her to finish. That damn phone call in the hospital...
Quinn dropped the scissors. “Did Mike tell you to check on me? Instruct you to get close, try to get information on my sister?”
Maybe it was time he leveled with her. Hell, a little, anyway. “Mike authorized my being on loan to the RRPD.”
“You said something about waiting for me to wake up and remember where Demi was.” She came closer, until she could see the darkness in his eyes. “I kept drifting in and out of sleep, but I know you didn’t intend for me to overhear that conversation.”
Her voice quavered. “I guess it’s a safe assumption I’m not the only Colton you’re investigating.”
Clever Quinn. Too smart.
Quinn kept twisting her hands on her lap. “I hate secrets. Not knowing. Keeping secrets from me isn’t the way to get me to fall for you, West. It won’t get me to open up, either.”
“Neither will hiding from the facts, Quinn.”
“I’m not hiding. I want to remember! But you have plenty to hide. You’ve been hiding from the moment you set foot in Red Ridge. Do you know what my brothers would do if they knew you were investigating them?”
His jaw tightened. “My job is to help catch the killer. This town needs help, Quinn. They need me. And Rex. You have a killer slaying grooms, and all weddings have ceased. There’s no joy, no future here. Until the unsub is caught, no one can feel safe. What if the unsub changes his methodology? Decides to begin killing brides? Or friends of brides?”
West looked outside as the car parked. “Until this person is caught, no one is truly safe.”
And until the bomber who killed Tia was caught, Quinn wasn’t safe, either.