CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

Selene had to confide in someone other than Quinn, even though she believed in him and was trying hard to dismiss the caller’s accusations. So she chose Elisa.

It was the following afternoon, and the news about the strangulation murder of Lynda Franklin had spread like wildfire. Coming off the caller’s chilling words last night, Selene was a bundle of nerves.

They were sitting on the back patio at Elisa’s house, surrounded by plants.

“Hearing that creepy voice telling me that Quinn’s the killer is really freaking me out,” Selene said. “Especially when another woman was found strangled last night.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Elisa said. “I’d be climbing the walls too if someone told me that. You think it’s your ex calling you?”

Selene frowned. “I don’t know. It could be.” She paused. “Whoever it is, he won’t leave me alone. I just don’t know where to go with this or what to think!”

“Did you tell Quinn?”

“God knows I’ve wanted to,” Selene said. “But I didn’t know how. It’s not exactly dinner table or bedtime conversation.”

Elisa stared at her. “You don’t actually think it could be true that Quinn really is the—?”

“Of course not!” Selene snapped. “He’s no more of a killer than you or me. Or Marvin, for that matter,” she added. “I’m afraid I’d be playing right into the caller’s hands if I brought it up to Quinn.”

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Elisa said sympathetically. “Just because Quinn writes novels about killers, it doesn’t make him one. But ignoring it won’t make it go away either. You can’t keep this bottled up inside you, girl. If someone’s badmouthing Quinn, don’t you think he has a right to know so he can defend himself?”

Selene nodded. She knew that Quinn needed to hear it from her, before the police came and questioned him as if he was a suspect in the murders.

She smiled faintly. “I’ll tell him tonight at dinner.”

“Smart move,” Elisa said. “He’ll know how to deal with it.”

“Deal with what?” A voice said behind them.

Selene turned to see Marvin standing there. He looked slightly disheveled in a wool suit. He had a leather briefcase in hand. She gave Elisa a warning look, imploring her not to break her confidence.

“Oh, we’re just talking girl stuff, honey,” Elisa told him. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, slow day so I decided I’d rather spend it with you.” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “But it looks like you and Selene are doing fine without me.”

Selene took that as her cue to leave. “Actually, I’ve got a few errands to run. She’s all yours, Marvin.”

Elisa stood. “Let me walk you out, Selene.” She told Marvin, “Now don’t you dare go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

He grinned. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Selene wondered what Marvin would think about the accusatory phone calls. After all, he was in the security business. He might have some added insight about how she should handle the situation.

Selene decided against it. She would have to tell Quinn what was going on before she told anyone else.

Elisa hugged her and said, “Don’t worry. Everything will work out. You and Quinn are strong enough to deal with this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Don’t let the caller scare you into thinking otherwise.”

“I’ll try not to,” Selene said. But he had already gotten under her skin.

* * *

Selene had prepared Quinn’s favorite meal. She wanted him to enjoy his dinner before she brought up the caller’s accusations, which could potentially turn their relationship upside down.

Selene set the dining room table and called Quinn in from his office. She’d observed his body language all day and didn’t see anything to indicate that Quinn was someone other than the person she believed she married.

Don’t be fooled by the God-fearing, easygoing, warmhearted image.

The caller had insinuated that Quinn was a phony. Selene didn’t buy it. And yet she’d once trusted another man who was still disappointing her to this day. Could she also be wrong about Quinn? Could he actually be a serial killer?

When he walked in and sat down, Selene brought in the food, trying to act as normal as possible.

“Looks delicious,” he said. “Is it a special occasion or something?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “I just felt like making one of your favorite meals.”

“Well I’m lucky to have a wife who knows how to take good care of me.”

But will you always be here to take good care of me?

Halfway through the meal Selene said, “By the way, someone called last night...while you were asleep.”

“Who?”

“That’s just it—I don’t know.”

He put down his fork. “Well, did you answer the phone?”

“Yes...”

“So what did they want?”

Selene sucked in a deep breath. I have to do this. “He accused you of being The Woods Strangler.”

Quinn’s eyes bulged. “What—?”

“It’s the second time he’s called,” she admitted. “Both times he said that you were responsible for killing those women.”

Quinn’s forehead crinkled in three places. “I can’t believe this! Why didn’t you tell me the first time he called?”

Selene nearly melted under the heat of his burning stare. “I didn’t want to bother you with what seemed like a crank call.” She paused. “Then he called again...and repeated the accusations—”

“Well it’s total rubbish,” Quinn said. “Someone’s playing with your head. Probably that damned, no good ex-husband of yours who doesn’t seem to know when to quit.”

“The voice was muffled, so I couldn’t really tell,” Selene said. “It could be anyone.” She wasn’t ruling Michel out. But it could be someone else with an agenda—like Robert Leighton.

Quinn peered at her. “Don’t tell me you actually believe that I’m the killer?”

She met his hard gaze. “No, of course not.” How could I? It would make our relationship and marriage a lie.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said confidently.

Quinn’s mouth tightened and the lines in his forehead deepened. “Good! Now if this bastard calls again, let me know!”

Selene was already dreading the thought of another early morning call with outrageous allegations about her husband.

* * *

Quinn labored to finish the rest of his food. The caller had clearly unnerved Selene and he could understand why. He was sure he’d detected a hint of uncertainty from her that he just might be a killer. But it seemed to vanish rather quickly, as if her natural instincts kicked in when she looked at things squarely.

But Quinn wondered if her doubts would return if the character assassination by an unknown party continued.

He suspected Michel Giovanni was behind the calls—as his sick way of trying to make Selene run back to him and his cowardly abusive ways. Quinn knew Selene wouldn’t succumb to Michel’s emotional intimidation. She was too clever to fall for that trap again.

But what if someone else had made the calls—someone who knew more about him than his wife did?

Quinn was suddenly afraid that his past sins might ruin his future.

So he did what he always did when things got too tough: bottled it up inside and hoped it would go away. Something told him that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.