Sam shut off the screen in front of her, automatically hiding the text. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the clock: 8:12 p.m. “Okay, just let me finish up…” She’d hacked her way into Nathan Donnelley’s personal bank account and found out that the man had barely a thousand dollars in his savings. Since the doc drove a top-of-the-line Benz and flashed a Rolex—yeah, she’d caught sight of that watch—the lack of money set off red flags in her mind.
“Hyde needs us all in his office. The ME finished working on Dunlap, and Hyde wants to go over the report.”
Sam jumped up, and the knot of tension at the top of her spine tightened. She followed Kim down the hallway, turned a fast right, and then they were at Hyde’s office.
Luke closed the door behind her. “Thanks,” she whispered, pushing up the glasses that she’d put on earlier. She’d thought the glasses might help to ease the headache she had. No such luck.
Hyde sat on the edge of his desk. His fingers gripped a manila file. Monica Davenport was to his right. Figured. Ramirez wasn’t there. He was still out shadowing Weatherly.
“We’ve got a problem,” Hyde said, and his gaze zeroed in on her.
Her shoulders straightened. “Sir?”
“With the first slash of that glass, the veins and tendons in Beth Dunlap’s wrist were cut, and they were cut too damn deep.”
Sam could still see the blood soaking the wooden floor.
“Because Dunlap was right-handed, we must assume the initial cut was made to her left wrist,” Hyde continued, “and according to the ME, her left hand would have been all but useless within seconds.”
Sam’s breath rushed out. “But her right was cut—”
Hyde shook his head. “The ME says there’s no way Beth Dunlap could have done that on her own. And a tendon was severed there too.”
Oh, hell. Sam rocked back, and her elbow slammed into the closed door.
“Sam?” Luke’s murmur.
She shook her head. “We didn’t see anyone else in the house.”
“Because Beth Dunlap told the doctor—what was his name?” Hyde riffled through his papers. “Donnelley? According to him, she said that his services weren’t needed any longer.”
“And Quinlan told the maids not to come in,” Luke said. “He told them he wanted some space to grieve.” His lips twisted in a mirthless smile. “But during his grieving time, he was f**king Beth Dunlap. It seems Kerri Grace, one of the day maids, heard them upstairs before she was told to hit the road.”
“Upstairs?” Sam asked.
“Kerri said they were in Frank’s room this morning.” His brows rose. “She told me the, ah, noise was louder than her vacuum.”
Fucking and dying in the same place.
“Something else.” Hyde’s deep voice filled the entire room. “Crime scene techs found two drops of Beth Dunlap’s blood in the hallway, right outside of Frank Malone’s bedroom.”
Sam swallowed. “Quinlan was there when we pulled up. He wasn’t in his car, he was standing right beside it. He said—he said he’d just arrived.” She should have touched the hood. Should have seen if he was telling the truth.
But she’d wanted to believe him. Wanted to think that he was a man who’d survived a nightmare. She still wanted to believe that. “We need to question the first responders from the bomb squad,” she said quietly. “They would have touched Quinlan’s car.” They’d gone over every vehicle there. “They can tell us if his story is true.”
“Where is Quinlan now?” Monica asked.
“I put a detail on him,” Hyde said. “No way was I letting him just walk away.” He inclined his head toward Sam. “He’s at his brother’s place, and that’s where you’re heading, Kennedy.”
Like he could have kept her away right then.
“I want you to talk to Quinlan. I want you to get him to tell you every move he made this morning. Get him to talk about Beth. See if you can find something for me to use here.”
When Hyde gave an order, you didn’t refuse. But… “Did you find any evidence to tie Quinlan directly to Beth’s death?” Circumstantial. He’d been outside, and Sam had seen his clothes—there’d been no visible blood.
And that crime scene had been full of blood.
So either Quinlan had managed to hide his clothes and get clean, real fast, or the guy was innocent.
When Hyde’s lips compressed, she had her answer. But then he said, “You’re getting the evidence. You’ll wear a wire when you go in.”
A wire?
“You have an in with Quinlan. His brother’s not going to turn you away.”
But what would Max do if he found out that she was wearing a wire in order to trap his brother? The brother who looked dead guilty. “I’m telling Max.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll wear the wire, but Max has to know.” She wouldn’t budge on this point.
“You trust him?” Hyde stalked toward her. “People are dying, left and right on a case that should have been over. Are you really sure you trust Ridgeway enough to risk this case?”
She stared into his dark, glittering eyes. Hold your ground. “I do.”
He nodded. “All right. Then you tell him. But if this comes back on us…”
He didn’t need to say the rest. She knew that it wouldn’t look good on her already shaky performance record.
“Prove his innocence or prove his guilt,” Hyde said. “Get him to talk.”
“I will.” She hesitated. “But Quinlan Malone isn’t our only suspect here. I got access to Nathan Donnelley’s bank records. His savings are nearly empty.”
Luke whistled. “Money’s always a motivator.”
Even for murder.
“Where is Donnelley now?” Hyde wanted to know. “Find him and get the good doctor in here for another interview.” He clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s get moving, people. And be ready for any damn thing.”
Donnelley knocked lightly on the bedroom door, and after a moment he heard the gruff, “Come in.”
He turned the knob and stepped inside, making sure that he had a big smile on his face. “Well, now, Quinlan…” His gaze swept the room, and he saw no one else. He shut the door behind him, and let the smile fade away. “What the hell have you done?” Because the kid was screwing with his plan.