I hang up the phone and drop it down onto the center of the bed. Back when I was a kid, we used to have a real phone. A landline. And when you were mad at someone, you could slam it down. It’s just not the same with a cell phone.
As much as I dislike that woman, I don’t genuinely think she knows what happened to my sister. She’s just a busybody. She’s the sort of person who would take pleasure seeing Quinn on trial for what happened to Derek. And she wouldn’t be the only one. Derek was eminently likable. As well as rich and powerful.
The phone rings again. If it’s another one of Derek’s mistresses, I swear I’m going to lose it. But when I look over at the screen, I see a name I didn’t expect.
It’s Quinn.
Chapter 18
I scoop up the phone, my hands shaking so badly I can barely swipe to answer. Don’t hang up, Quinn! I just need to get my fingers working again.
Finally, the call connects. I gasp into the phone, “Quinn?”
I expect to hear my sister’s high, sweet voice. Instead, I hear a much deeper voice. “Hello?”
My breath catches in my throat. It’s a man. A man is calling on Quinn’s phone. Does that mean he’s kidnapped her? And he’s going to demand ransom?
“Who is this?” I manage.
There’s a long pause on the other line. “Who is this?”
What is going on here? “Why are you on my sister’s phone?”
“I found this phone,” the male voice tells me. “It was in the back of my truck.”
I frown, not sure what to make of this development. “The back of your truck? What are you talking about?”
“I was getting something out of my truck and I saw the phone in there. And there were all these missed calls from somebody named Claudia. Is that you?”
“That’s me.”
“I don’t know how the phone got in my truck, but I’d be happy to return it.”
He poses an excellent question. How did the phone get in his truck?
I spoke with Quinn on the phone, so it was in her possession when we were talking. Shortly after that, I discovered Derek’s dead body. At that point, she was no longer answering her phone. So sometime between our call and when I found Derek, the phone ended up in this guy’s car.
The real question is, is this guy on the level? Or is he just messing with me? If I go retrieve the phone from him, will he hit me on the head and try to stuff me in his closet?
I’d like to see him try. Unlike Quinn, I’m a fighter.
“Who is your sister?” the guy asks.
“Her name is Quinn. She—”
“Wait—Quinn Mackey?”
There’s a note of surprise and eagerness in his voice. Also, he used our maiden name. I realize at this moment that this man did not do anything terrible to my sister. He’s just a guy who found her phone in his truck.
“That’s right,” I say. “Do you know her?”
“Yeah! My name is Bill Walsh. She used to babysit for me years ago, and I actually saw her earlier today. At a gas station maybe half an hour north of here.”
I suck in a breath. “You saw her? When?”
“Um. I’m not sure. Maybe five o’clock? I had just finished work.”
My heart is pounding. He saw Quinn. He saw her after our phone call. “Was she alone?”
“Seemed to be. She bought a few things at the store, I think she took out some money, then she ran off. She seemed to be in a big hurry.”
“There was nobody else in the car?”
“Not that I could see.”
I chew on my lower lip. “How did she look? Did she look… nervous? Scared? Hurt?”
He thinks about it for a moment. “Now that you mention it, she seemed kind of nervous. But she looked good otherwise. Really good.”
Great. This idiot was hitting on my sister. “Is the phone locked?”
“Yeah. I could only call you because your phone call was on the lock screen.”
That means even if I get my hands on the phone, I won’t be able to do much with it. “Look,” I say, “I’m going to call the police about the phone. They’re going to come pick it up from you.”
“The police?” Bill Walsh sounds panicked. “But I didn’t steal it! I found it in my truck. I swear…”
“I know. But… Quinn is missing.”
His breath hitches. “You don’t think that I…”
I don’t. My gut is telling me this guy is just an innocent passerby. Quinn wanted to get rid of her phone so she couldn’t be tracked, so she tossed it in his truck. It’s what I would’ve done. I’m proud of her for thinking on her feet.