17

Quinn

Her conversation with Vivi had turned short. Quinn had no idea what her daughter meant. She lived next door to a murderer? Could that be…Annette?

Not a chance. Annette was the most normal. Cheerful. Happy. Not the killing type.

Judith? This only made more sense by virtue of the fact that Vivi knew Judith. At least a little. But who would Judith have murdered? She divorced her husband. She didn’t kill him. And beyond that, Judith was…bored-acting.

Beverly…obviously Beverly was the closest of the three to death. She’d lost two people close to her. But murdered them? No way.

Once Quinn had reasoned through Vivi’s accusation, she clicked her phone off, deciding to be the mom instead of the gossip that Vivi tried to make her into.

The next day, she got a call from Beverly. A good distraction from Vivi’s fearmongering and from living at the threshold of hell.

She dashed around the house giddily because, well, this was what she needed in order to stick around. And anyway, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. If she were back in her condo, she’d have scrubbed dishes until her hands were raw. Now, though, there was too much to tackle. So instead, she scrubbed her body in a hot shower. Hard and rough and three times through. She got out, red-skinned and raw, and ready.

Two showers in as many days had Quinn feeling like nothing short of a queen. That, plus makeup, a fresh outfit, and a blowout? There’s no way she wouldn’t get the job. Not if this Forrest Jericho character had a heartbeat.

She tracked down the electrician, another idea dawning on her. “Um, Dean?” she asked, as he squatted near a charred outlet. A small electrical fire, probably. Ages old, maybe.

He swiveled. “Yes, ma’am?” His good manners were hard to ignore, and Quinn flushed. Dean was older than her by a decade or more, but he was a good-looking guy.

“Your company name—Jericho, right?”

“That’s right. Jericho Brothers. It’s me and Rusty.”

“Oh, Rusty.” Quinn nodded. “I have a job interview at the paper in town, and the supervisor there, I think he’s a Jericho?” Couldn’t hurt to gain a little traction with the locals, even if it was only half hour ahead of her meeting.

Dean blew out a sigh. “That’d be Forrest.”

Quinn was uncertain of his tone, until Dean stood, brushed his hands together and gave her a wide grin. “You’re gonna love Forrest.”