All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [116]
She went to him and enfolded him in a hug. Reese was tall; like Jake he was nearly six foot four in his stocking feet. He had black curly hair, a rogue’s smile, dark blue eyes and a dimple in his chin. His jaw was broad, his nose chiseled, and Quinn couldn’t help but give him an admiring glance. He was just so handsome. And so very young. She was filled with pride for a brief moment then shook it off.
“Sweetheart, I tried to reach you for days, but I could never get through.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn. I told you we’d be out of touch. It was amazing. Really amazing. I learned so much. I got in late last night and heard your message on my machine this morning. Why did you need to reach me?”
Quinn did not know how to approach the subject. She knew Whitney and Reese were not close by any means. But they were related, after all, that had to count for something. She took his hand and led him to the closest chair, a huge leather swayback with studded nails going up the sides. She sat him down and in turn took a seat on a velvet ottoman facing him. She took both of his hands in hers and looked him straight in his gorgeous eyes.
“Sweetheart, Whitney has been in an accident. She was killed. It happened, well, she was on her way here, to the house. I didn’t know if anyone else had gotten through to your team down there, that someone from home had told one of the doctors you were with. I wanted to tell you myself.”
There was no reaction from Reese, and Quinn’s heart sank. He couldn’t hate her, not that much. Reese looked up at her, his eyes troubled.
Quinn squeezed his hands tighter. “I know, honey, I know. It’s awful. There’s more. The police have taken Whitney’s laptop. Apparently she’s been involved, somehow, with this horrible man that has been killing these girls all over the Southeast. I didn’t know if you’d heard about that, either, though it’s been national news and in all the papers. I thought you might have heard something about it. Reese? Reese?”
Reese was staring, unblinking, his face drained of all color. A single tear built up in the corner of his eye and dribbled down his cheek unchecked. He shook his head, unbelieving. Quinn nattered on, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“I mean, I can’t understand it. Whitney, involved with this killer? I don’t know how that’s possible, and the police aren’t giving me a lot of information. I’m sure she was planning on doing some sort of story on it, and she was trying to reach me the day before—” Her voice broke, and she had to gather herself before she continued. “The day before she died. Oh, Reese, what are we going to do?”
Reese finally met Quinn’s eyes, gently removing his hands from hers. “So she didn’t know?”
“She didn’t know what, sweetheart?”
Reese stood up and walked to the bookcase. He reached out a slender finger and traced the spine of an intricately carved book. “All that work,” he murmured to himself.
Quinn heard but didn’t understand what he said.
“What, sweetheart? I didn’t hear you. Are you okay?”
He turned to her, a small smile on his face and a glistening in his eyes. “All my work. She didn’t know.” He started to laugh, and Quinn was unsure what to do. Grief took all forms, and though she knew Reese was not terribly fond of his other sister, she thought that laughter was hardly the best emotional avenue for him to take at the news of her death.
“Now, Reese Connolly, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. I’ve just told you your sister is dead and you laugh. What is wrong with you?”
He was laughing harder now, tears streaming down his face. He stepped over to Quinn, took her in a brief yet forceful hug, and then, still laughing, disappeared from the room. Quinn heard the laughter fade away, then heard the front door slam. A throaty engine turned over and he tore off down the driveway.
She sank into the chair he had been sitting in before his bizarre reaction to his sister’s death had drawn him to stand. What the hell was that about? Quinn shook her head. It was beyond her. She knew that there was no way he could know the truth, but maybe