Killing Her Softly (38 page)

"How does it feel to sleep with a killer, the man who murdered your own cousin?"

"How many others have there been, Cortez? Just how many women have you killed?"

"Does it turn you on to kill? Is that the reason you do it?"

Quinn draped his arm around Annabelle's shoulders and did his best to push through the crowd, but the reporters en masse kept them trapped within a vicious circle.

"Leave him alone!" a female voice shouted.

All heads turned toward the sound of that voice and the reporter nearest the woman shoved his mike as close to her as he could get it. "Who are you? And why are you defending Quinn Cortez? Are you another of his lovers?"

"Who I am doesn't matter," Marcy Sims said, her voice loud enough to gain the attention of ail the other reporters. "Quinn Cortez is a good man. He hasn't killed anyone. You have no right to accuse him of such horrible things."

"Oh, God," Quinn groaned. "It's Marcy. They'll eat her alive."

"What can we do?" Annabelle asked, whispering the question in Quinn's ear.

Quinn glanced nervously around as if searching for someone. She followed his line of vision and saw that he'd made eye contact with Aaron Tully, who had gotten separated from
Jace
and Marcy after leaving the chapel.

"Maybe Aaron can get to her," Quinn said. "He's closer to her than we are. Besides, we're trapped."

"She's Marcy Sims. She's the lone woman in Cortez's entourage. She's on his payroll," one of the reporters called, informing her fellow tormentors of Marcy's identity. "You can bet she's one of Cortez's lovers."

Suddenly, the focus left Quinn and Annabelle and became directed on Marcy.

"Are you in love with Cortez, Ms. Sims? Is that why you're defending him?"

"Tell us what you know about Cortez. If you two are lovers, why are you still alive?"

"Yes, I love Quinn!" Tears streamed down Marcy's flushed cheeks. "I love him because he's a good man. He's not capable of murder. Someone is trying to frame him. And y'all are making matters worse by tormenting him, by accusing him of things he didn't do."

Aaron knocked aside several reporters in his quest to reach Marcy, but before he could get to her, sirens shrilled and several police cars arrived on the scene. Within minutes, half a dozen uniformed officers cut a path through the unruly crowd, a path by which Jim Norton and Griffin Powell reached Quinn and Annabelle, just as Aaron got close enough to grab Marcy around the waist.

"The
calvary
to the rescue," Quinn said as Griffin approached.

"Come on, let me get you two out of here," Griffin said.

"I'm not leaving without Marcy and Aaron and
Jace
," Quinn said.

Jim looked at Griffin. "You get them to their car. I'll bring the other three along in a few minutes."

Before she realized what was happening, Annabelle found herself not only protected by Quinn's strong arms, but by Griffin and two other men in dark suits to whom Griffin had issued orders. She recognized one of them as her part-time bodyguard, Bruce Askew. Within minutes, the threesome had taken them through the crush of reporters, several of whom were being apprehended by the police.

When they reached Quinn's Porsche, he refused to leave until he was certain his employees were safe. Annabelle waited at his side and a few minutes later, Jim Norton and a uniformed officer escorted Marcy,
Jace
and Aaron directly to Quinn.

Quinn grabbed Marcy and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life.

"What on earth were you thinking, Marcy?" Quinn grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, then looked right into her eyes.

Instead of making eye contact with Quinn, Marcy's gaze pierced Annabelle. "This is all your fault. You should get out of his life now and stop complicating things."

Marcy jerked free of Quinn's hold and moved toward Annabelle, her finger pointing like a loaded weapon as she raged. "You don't love him. You're just using him the way all the rest of them did. He doesn't deserve to be treated like a criminal." When Marcy lunged at Annabelle, both Quinn and Aaron reached for her. Aaron grabbed her and yanked her back, then whirled her around and shook her.

Suddenly, all the fire went out of Marcy and she crumpled into Aaron's arms. "
Jace
and I will take her home," Aaron told Quinn. "Maybe after you take Ms.
Vanderley
back to the Peabody, you should come on home and—"

"Yeah, I'll be there soon. Just take care of Marcy, will you?"

"Sure thing."

Quinn turned to Griffin. "Either
yOu
or one of your men stay with Annabelle. I need to go home and talk to Marcy and I can't be in two places at once."

"I'll drive Annabelle back to the hotel and make sure she isn't alone," Griffin said.

Quinn caressed Annabelle's cheek. "I hate to leave you, but I have to check on Marcy. I've never seen her lose control the way she did today. You have to understand that she didn't mean the things she said to you. She wasn't herself."

Annabelle grabbed Quinn's hand. "You go do what you need to do. I'll be fine. Griffin will take good care of me."

"Not too good a care," Quinn said, then kissed Annabelle hurriedly before getting into his Porsche. He zoomed out of the parking lot, forcing several people to jump out of his way.

Shaken by the combination of events, Annabelle trembled as Griffin helped her into the passenger seat of his rental car, a black Lincoln. She sat there quietly as he secured her seatbelt, then she rested her hands in her lap. Neither she nor Griffin said a word until they were a couple of miles from the funeral home.

"Could Marcy Sims be the one who killed Quinn's lovers?" Annabelle voiced the question, but she suspected Griffin had been wondering the same thing.

"It's a possibility. She's obviously in love with Quinn and apparently hates every other woman in his life. She's close enough to Quinn to know his every move, to be able to execute the murders when she'd know Quinn was in the area and wouldn't necessarily have an alibi."

And she's a trusted employee, someone close enough to have drugged Quinn so that he couldn't account for a couple of hours during the time each woman was killed.

If he was drugged. . .

"Could you find out where Marcy was when each of the murders occurred?" Annabelle asked.

"I've already got agents checking on Marcy's, Aaron's and
Jace's
backgrounds and their whereabouts when each woman was murdered. Of course
Jace
wasn't working for Quinn when Kelley Fleming was murdered. And Marcy's been in Quinn's life for ten years. Why would she just all of a sudden start killing his lovers?"

"Maybe she finally realized that Quinn was never going to be hers."

Griffin grunted. "If we could just tie someone else to all five dead women . . ." He paused obviously thinking about something in particular. "Aaron Tully had a connection to Lulu. They'd been lovers, too. And he knew Kendall Wells."

"Do you think Aaron Tully is the murderer and not Marcy?"

"I'm not certain of anything. I have no way of knowing if Aaron or Marcy or
Jace
killed those women," Griffin told her. "But if we rule out Quinn, then—"

"What do you mean
if
we rule out Quinn?"

Griffin shot her a quick, speculative glance. "I know you're in love with the guy, but you can't tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind—"

"Don't say it. Don't even think it."

"But you've thought it, haven't you? Even though you love him and you want to believe him wholeheartedly, there's a tiny kernel of doubt deep down inside you, isn't there? Don't be ashamed to admit it. What you say to me will never be repeated."

"I know Quinn didn't kill those women. I believe in him. I trust him."

"But?"

"But God forgive me, the thought did cross my mind and that thought lingers."

"For what it's worth, I agree with you. I don't think Quinn killed those five women, but I can't say I'd stake my life on it."

Tears moistened Annabelle's eyes. She turned her head and stared out the window at the quickly passing scenery of downtown Memphis. The ache in her heart intensified. How could she doubt Quinn for even one second? How could she consider the possibility that he had killed five women? But what if he had committed the murders and had no memory of what he'd done? What if those blackout spells . . .

Quinn is innocent! Someone else killed Kelley, Joy, Carla, Lulu and Kendall. But who? Marcy? Aaron?
Jace
? Or some unknown serial killer who, for his own perverse reasons, had targeted Quinn's lovers?

"She's gone into her room and locked the door,"
Jace
told Quinn when he arrived at their rental house. "Aaron's trying to talk to her, but I don't think he's having any luck."

Quinn nodded. "Whose idea was it for you three to show up at Kendall's funeral?"

"I don't remember."
Jace
scrunched his features into a pondering frown. "I think maybe Marcy mentioned at breakfast that we should all go, just to show the world that we support you."

Quinn sighed. "I know she meant well, but damn it if she didn't make matters worse. Did you or Aaron have any idea she was on the verge of losing it that way?"

Before
Jace
could respond, Aaron called out from the hallway, "No, we didn't know she was going to go berserk." Coming into the living room, rage in his dark eyes, Aaron walked right up to Quinn. Man-to-man. "But hell, it was only a matter of time. She's crazy about you and you treat her like a kid sister. She's been pining away for you as long as I've known her. Man, she'd lie down and die for you. You should have told her a long time ago that there was no way in hell you'd ever love her, not the way she wants you to love her."

"I knew she had a crush on me, but—"

"A crush?" Aaron raised his voice to a shout. "A crush! Man, that's rich, calling what she feels for you a crush."

"Don't talk to Quinn that way,"
Jace
said. "None of this is his fault. He can't help it, can he, if women fall in love with him? You're just jealous of him because you've got a thing for Marcy and even after you two became lovers, she still wanted Quinn."

Silence. Utter, complete silence.

Jace
gasped as if all at once realizing the impact of what he'd said.

Aaron paled, his anger seeming to drain away, leaving him mute.

Quinn focused on Aaron. "You and Marcy are lovers?" Aaron nodded. "Since when?"

"Since we came to Memphis."

"Do you love her or is she just another one of my women you wanted?" Quinn asked.

"She's never been one of your women," Aaron said.

"Not one of my lovers, no, but—"

"I care about Marcy," Aaron admitted. "Yeah, maybe I love her. And it has nothing to do with you. Or at least it wouldn't if Marcy wasn't in love with the great Quinn Cortez."

"Do you hate me?" Quinn had never even suspected that Aaron had any negative feelings toward him, that he resented him in any way.

"Hell no! I don't hate you. I just hate that Marcy's in love with you."

"I'll talk to her," Quinn said. "I'll make her see that you're better for her, that there can't ever be anything between us, nothing more than friendship."

"She won't believe you. She'll just go on deluding herself, telling herself that someday you're going to realize that she's the love of your life."

"I'll tell her she's wrong to think that."

"As long as you go through women like Kleenex, she'll keep hoping."

"What if I tell Marcy that I've found the love of my life? What if I make her understand that Annabelle
Vanderley
is more to me than just a brief affair?"

Chapter 28

Quinn left Aaron to think over what he'd told him. He hadn't planned what he'd said, hadn't actually been thinking about his feelings for Annabelle. But the words formed in his mind one second and came out his mouth the next. As he walked from the living into the hall, his mind a jumble of mixed thoughts and confused emotions, only one sentiment emerged from the chaos. What he'd said to Aaron was the truth, coming through loud and clear, drowning out all other thoughts.

I've found the love of my life.

There was no point in denying it to himself or to anyone else. How it had happened or why now, he had no idea. As if a light had been turned on in a dark room and illuminated the pitch-blackness, he knew that he loved Annabelle.

He certainly needed time to think about his feelings. Something he'd never really done. He had to consider how to handle things. Should he tell Annabelle now? Or should he wait?

But first things first. Marcy. He had to take care of her, make sure she would come out of this all right.

When Quinn reached the closed door to Marcy's room, he paused. Poor Marcy. He'd never meant to lead her on, to give

her any false hopes where he was concerned. Aaron was right—he needed to make her understand that there could never be anything beyond friendship between them.

He lifted his hand to knock, then caught a glimpse of
Jace
and Aaron as they came up behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Quinn said, "Everything's going to be all right." He knocked.

No response.

"Marcy," Quinn called.

No answer.

"Marcy, honey, open the door and let me talk to you."

"Go away," she told him.

"I'm not going anywhere until we talk."

"We don't need to talk. I know I made a fool of myself and embarrassed you in public. I'm sorry. Really, I'm so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me, even fire me."

"It's all right, Marcy. I'm not angry and I'm not going to fire you. But we do need to discuss things and we need to do it now."

"If you're going to tell me you don't love me, save your breath. I already know."

"That's not exactly true. I do love you, but as a good friend someone I can always count on."

He sensed the same trepidation tensing his nerves were wreaking havoc on Aaron and possibly
Jace
, too, as they waited anxiously for Marcy's reaction.

Finally, she unlocked the door and eased it open just a crack. When she peered out into the hall, she looked right at Quinn, ignoring Aaron and
Jace
. "You're not angry? You don't hate me? You—you aren't going to fire me?"

"No to all three questions."

She opened the door all the way, came outside and rushed into Quinn's embrace. When he closed his arms around her and held her as she cried Aaron turned around and stomped back down the hall. Within minutes the sound of the front door slamming shut reverberated through the house.

"I'll be in my room if you need me,"
Jace
said as he raced off up the hall.

Marcy lifted her head and looked at Quinn through tear-filled eyes. "I can't help being in love with you."

He released her, then lifted his hand and wiped her tears away with his fingertips. "You just think you're in love with me. You're grateful to me. You find me charming and irresistible. All women do." Quinn smiled, hoping she'd smile, too. She did. "We could have had a fling, had some meaningless sex and then when you realized I wasn't in love with you, you'd have quit your job and left me."

When she opened her mouth to respond, he tapped his index finger playfully on her nose. "I've always found you attractive, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world to have taken advantage of the crash you had on me, but I cared too much—loved you too much—to ever hurt you."

"You love me?" she asked hopefully.

"Like a kid sister. You're a good friend and a good assistant. I want you to be happy, but you can't find the happiness you deserve with me." He cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "One of these days, you'll find the right person, the one meant for you, just as I have. Would you believe that after all these years, I've actually met the love of my life?"

"Annabelle
Vanderley
." Marcy spoke the name in a reverent whisper.

"Yes, Annabelle."

Fresh tears gushed from her eyes. "I figured as much."

"Ah, honey . . . Marcy . . ."

She swallowed. "I'm happy for you. Really, I am."

"You realize that Aaron's in love with you, don't you? Who knows, you could turn out to be the love of his life."

Laughing, Marcy swatted away the tears dampening her cheeks. "I doubt that. Besides, I've got to find a way to get over you before I can be of any good to somebody else."

"What can I do to help you?"

"I don't know if anyone can help me. It's just something I'll have to find a way to work through on my own."

Quinn nodded, wishing he could do something—anything— for Marcy. "Well, I can order supper for us. It's nearly five and we've got to eat."

"You aren't going back to the Peabody to have supper with Annabelle?"

"No, not tonight. I'm going to stick around here, eat supper with y'all. I'm sure Aaron will come back soon, after he's worked off some of his anger."

"Yeah, he'll come flying in before long and be starving to death," Marcy said. "Hey, why don't you call Annabelle and check on her. Tell her I'm sorry for the way I acted. And while you're doing that, I'll order supper."

Quinn ran the back of his hand along Marcy's cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed. He slipped his hand away and headed up the hall toward the kitchen. All of a sudden, he was thirsty. He'd pour himself a glass of iced tea and take it upstairs to his bedroom before he called Annabelle. He would miss her tonight. But he was needed here. Marcy needed him.

Annabelle would understand. She had a kind and generous spirit. A loving heart.

God help him. During the past couple of days, Annabelle had become as essential to him as the air he breathed.

How the mighty have fallen.

Quinn chuckled to himself as he opened the kitchen door.
But what a way to go.

Annabelle changed out of her black dress, hung it in the closet and put on her jeans and long-sleeved cotton sweater. Her suite seemed empty without Quinn. Quiet and lonely. Odd how essential he had become to her in such a brief period of time. She had fallen head over heels in love and there wasn't a darn thing she could do about it.

Even now, alone in her suite, the door locked and Bruce Askew posted outside, Annabelle felt uneasy, as if something terrible was about to happen. She had decided to forgo supper, knowing she was unlikely to eat a bite. Her nerves were frayed and her conscience was bothering her. How could she have confessed to Griffin that she harbored even the slightest doubt about Quinn's innocence?

Because you're human. Because despite the fact that you 're madly in love with the man, you don't really know him.

Just as she picked up the dirty coffeepot, intending to wash it and put on fresh decaf coffee, a knock sounded at her door. She tensed. After sitting the pot down, she walked to the door and peered through the keyhole. Griffin stood there beside Bruce Askew.

"Annabelle, it's Griffin."

She opened the door.

He dismissed Mr. Askew, then came into her suite. "I've ordered dinner for us."

"That's nice of you, but I'm really not very hungry."

"I won't force you to eat, but you can keep me company while I enjoy my dinner, can't you?"

"Of course." She went back to the coffeemaker. "I was going to make some decaf coffee. Would you care for some?"

"Sure. Dinner won't be here for another forty-five minutes. Coffee sounds good."

After washing the pot and filling it with clean water, she returned to the lounge and found Griffin sitting on the sofa. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Judd Walker's staying in my suite tonight and I plan to bunk here on your sofa."

Annabelle's mouth gaped. "Is that necessary?"

"I promised Quinn you wouldn't be left alone."

"Quinn may be back tonight."

"If he comes back, I'll leave immediately."

"You are staying simply because Quinn asked, aren't you? Not for any other reason."

Griffin chuckled. "As attractive and desirable as I find
you, my dear Annabelle, I'm not a fool. I realize that there is only one man for you and I'm not that man."

Quinn set the glass of tea on his nightstand, then kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up the phone and dialed the Peabody. As he waited for Annabelle to answer, he grasped the frosty glass and sipped the unsweetened tea.

She answered on the fourth ring. "Annabelle
Vanderley's
suite."

"Hello, Annabelle
Vanderley
."

"Quinn." He heard the rush of joy in her voice.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"Terribly. Are you coming back tonight?"

"Not tonight. Things are unsettled here. Marcy's going to be okay. She asked me to tell you she's sorry about the way she acted. She's ordering supper for us.
Jace
is holed up in his room, not wanting to be around in case of any emotional fallout. And Aaron's gone off in a huff because he happens to be in love with Marcy and he's pissed at her right now, and at me, too."

"That's quite a mess you have on your hands over there."

"Yes, it is. Marcy and Aaron and
Jace
are almost like my kids. I care about them and I feel like it's my duty to look after them."

"I understand. You stay there and take care of all your little chicks."

"I want to be with you. You know that, don't you?" "Yes."

"Does Griffin have someone posted outside your door?"

"He did."

"What do you mean he did?"

"Griffin's here with me now," she said. "He ordered supper for us. He's in the lounge and plans to spend the night on the sofa."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of another man sleeping on your sofa."

"He will be on the sofa and I'll be alone in my bed. There's only one man I want in my bed now and for the rest of my life."

"I'm glad to hear you say it."

"Are you?" she asked.

"I feel the same way."

"Do you?"

"You want me to say it,
querida
!
You want the words?"

"Yes, I'd like to hear you tell me how you feel."

"It seems that I discovered just this afternoon that you, Annabelle
Vanderley
, are the love of my life." Silence. "Annabelle?"

"I'm here." He heard the tears in her voice.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

"I'll see you in the morning. I'll be over to share breakfast with you and Griffin."

Annabelle laughed. God, how he loved the sound of her voice, the sound of her laughter.

"Night," she said.

"Good night,
querida
."

Quinn scooted back in the bed, bracing himself against the headboard, and drank the iced tea as he thought about a future with the woman he loved.

Marcy ordered supper from a nearby Chinese restaurant that delivered, then went back to her room to change out of the dress she'd worn to Kendall
Wells's
funeral. She couldn't believe that she'd made such an ass of herself, and in public! How could she have lost control that way, confessed to the world that she loved Quinn and almost attacked Annabelle
Vanderley?