Quinn thought with a sniff, even though she was there for the same reason.
But it was different for her. She actually cared about the family.
She started up the steps when a car door closed behind her.
“You’re like an unlucky penny.”
Quinn bit her lip and swore mentally before turning to face Silas.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for answers. The question is...what are you doing here? I would’ve thought that picking at the family during their time of grief was going too far for a local who supposedly cares about them.”
Quinn seamed her mouth shut. The man had a comeback for everything. “I do care about the family. I wrote a story about Rhia’s award-winning photography in the amateur division at the state fair level. It was a big deal around here. And the story was very well received.”
“Something tells me the family isn’t going to embrace you with open arms to chat about their dead daughter, no matter how many fluff stories you wrote about her.”
“Feature stories are not fluff,” Quinn retorted, freshly irritated. “But what would you know about journalism? Nothing. I won’t tell you how to do your job and you won’t tell me how to do mine.”
“Well, the press’s place is over there.” Silas pointed to the row of vans lining the street. “I’ve got work to do.”
Quinn knew that if Silas gained access to the Daniels family before her, he’d find a way to shut her out. Swallowing her pride, she hustled after Silas with a quick proposition. “Look, we both have jobs to do and we are both at a bit of a disadvantage. I say we help each other. We don’t have to be enemies.”
“I don’t work with press,” Silas said, climbing the steps and knocking on the door. “Now, get out of here before you upset people.”
Before Quinn could counter, the front door opened and a haggard Mrs. Daniels answered.
Silas produced his credentials. “I’m Special Agent Kelly. May I take a few moments of your time to talk to you about your daughter’s case?”
Mrs. Daniels swung red-rimmed eyes toward Quinn and recognition broke. “Are you...with him?” she asked.
“God no,” Quinn answered quickly, actually stepping forward to put some distance between them. “We just happened to have the misfortune of arriving at the same time.”
“Why is the FBI interested in Rhia’s case?” Mrs. Daniels asked, her fingers clutching at her necklace.
“May I come in so we can discuss the case?”
“I...” Mrs. Daniels’s gaze darted again and Quinn took the opportunity to insert herself.
“Mrs. Daniels, if you’d be more comfortable... I’d be happy to sit with you. I can only imagine the pain you’re going through. Rhia was an amazing and talented girl. The story I wrote on her photography has always been my favorite.”
Mrs. Daniels nodded, tears brimming. “Yes, she was.” Then she gestured for Quinn to come in as she said to Silas, “I suppose I can answer a few questions if it would help Rhia’s case.”
If Silas was pissed that Quinn had outmaneuvered him, he didn’t show it. Quinn had come to the conclusion that Silas was built from ice.
The man was as stoic as they came.
Did he ever smile? What did his laugh sound like?
Quinn couldn’t even imagine his face allowing a smile to happen.
But if it did...man, he was probably devastating.
Again with the smile. She was annoyed at the broken record of her thoughts. Give it a rest already.
Quinn shoved aside the unwelcome meandering thought and smiled for Mrs. Daniels as they each took a seat in the family room.
It was as Quinn remembered.
Several clocks interrupted the silence with soft ticks while the house seemed to sigh with grief.
Quinn wasn’t one to entertain woo-woo stuff but the sadness in the air was almost a physical thing, and not even Mrs. Daniels’s fondness for crocheted doilies could lighten the mood.
She fingered one of the delicate lace creations draped across the arm of the sofa like a frozen lily pad, murmuring, “So pretty,” for Mrs. Daniels’s benefit.
The grieving mother accepted the compliment with a nod. “My grandmother always said, ‘A bit of lace will brighten any room.’”
“So true,” Quinn agreed, wondering when Silas was going to pounce. She’d prefer that he be the bad guy in this scenario but she desperately wanted any information that could help her story.
Quinn already knew Rhia’s backstory—miracle child, beloved darling of much older parents, indulged and pampered—but in spite of all this, Rhia had been a decent kid.
At least what Quinn could remember of her.
Who knew what kids were really like when their parents weren’t around?
“Is there any reason you can think of why Rhia would be around Seminole Creek at this time of year?” Silas asked, going straight to the hard questions.
Sheesh, man, way to go for the soft spots right away.
Quinn took a different approach. Sidestepping Silas’s brutal question, Quinn interjected with kindness.
“How are you holding up, Mrs. Daniels? I can only imagine the hell you’re in right now. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Mrs. Daniels sniffed back tears but cast a grateful smile Quinn’s way. “You’re such a good girl. Thank you.” She drew a halting breath to steady her nerves and said to Silas, “I haven’t a clue why she was down at the creek. She wasn’t the kind of girl who snuck off in the middle of the night.”
“Maybe she was meeting with a boyfriend?” Silas suggested.
“Rhia didn’t have a boyfriend. She wasn’t allowed to date until she was seventeen,” Mrs. Daniels said, shaking her head. “Rhia was a very good girl, focused on school. She wanted to go to...Berkeley University in California. It’s all she talked about.”
Whether Mrs. Daniels wanted to admit it or not, kids often held back information from their parents. Censoring was normal. But Quinn knew they gained nothing by pointing that out to the grieving mother.
Quinn caught the subtle shift in Silas’s body posture and she sensed that he was on the same wavelength. She held her breath. Was he going to go there?
But he didn’t and she was a little disappointed.
Now you pull back? Go figure.
“Can you lead us through the timeline, Mrs. Daniels?” Silas asked, his voice gentling.
The
