Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) Page 7
He looked so forward to that.
Yep. Couldn’t wait.
Chapter 9
Quinn sat uncomfortably behind her desk as she faced the grieving family.
“I’m so very sorry to hear about Ben, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards. He was a good boy. Always so kind and considerate.”
It wasn’t unsettling that she was talking with them. No, the perplexing aspect was that Tommy, who now had to be around twenty-one, sat staring at her the entire time, a sneer pasted on his face.
“Thank you, Dr. McDonnell. We appreciate that and thank you for all your help. If only…if only I’d kept Ben in therapy…” As Mrs. Edwards broke down, her husband put his arm around her in an effort to comfort her.
Tommy sat motionless, his eyes still on Quinn, watching her.
Creepy as fuck kid.
Quinn looked sympathetically at the parents. “There’s really no way to tell if it would’ve helped. Ben was a troubled boy. I think we…I think we did all that we could for him.” Even though she thought they definitely could’ve done more by continuing to bring him to his sessions, she couldn’t say that. The parents felt bad enough as it was.
“We won’t waste any more of your time,” Mr. Edwards said, standing and helping his wife up from the couch. “Thank you again for getting us the files in a timely manner and for your kind words.”
Quinn stood too rounding her desk and following them as they left her office. But just before she got to her door Tommy turned to face her, a look of pure evil on his face.
“This is your fault, you cunt. If you’d kept your focus on Ben instead of trying to pull the rest of us into it, he’d still be here,” he hissed.
Needless to say, this took Quinn way off guard and she stood staring up at the foot-taller young man, speechless.
“You’re gonna pay for this, bitch.”
She didn’t get a chance to tell the asshole to get the fuck out of her office because he was gone, having caught up to his father and stepmother, turning one last time to give her a nasty look.
Huh.
But she couldn’t say the way Tommy behaved was unexpected. The kid was a complete and utter shit so what more did she expect?
“Justine?” she called to her secretary. “Gimme five minutes then send in my next client, please.”
Justine nodded and Quinn walked back into her office, closed the door, went to her private bathroom and looking in the mirror, burst into tears.
“I’ve made arrangements for the seminar in Chicago in June,” Daphne informed as she stuck her head in Quinn’s office that evening just after eight.
“Oh, good! Thank you. I’d forgotten completely about it,” Quinn replied.
“Since it’s at The Langham, I went ahead and booked us rooms. Posh as hell.” Daphne chuckled.
“So you’re telling me I should pack my tiara?”
Laughing, Daphne answered, “Hell yes. Bringing mine too and I’ll have Todd nab his scepter, see if we can stir shit up a bit.”
“I’ve never been in a Chicago PD jail before. Could be interesting,” Quinn said giggling.
Daphne giggled with her then sobered and asked, “You good? I know that was tough today.”
Quinn sighed. “It wouldn’t have been too bad if the brother hadn’t threatened me before they left.”
“What?”
As she explained what he’d said, Quinn saw Daphne’s face turn hard.
“That little asshole,” Daphne spit angrily. “Not as if you had enough to deal as it was.”
“Yeah.”
“Does this genuinely scare you? You think you should contact the police?”
Quinn shook her head. “No, no. I think he just wanted to wield whatever power he thinks he has, over me, you know? I know they’re all grieving. He was just acting out.”
Looking at her coworker, Quinn saw that Daphne understood, meaning, she understood things could go either way. The kid could’ve just been blowing off steam or he very well could’ve meant what he said. Only time would tell which.
“Keep me informed, okay? Remember, I’m off the rest of the week for Todd’s surgery,” Daphne said as she straightened the collar on her trench coat.
“Will do. Yes, I remember and I’m very jealous. You guys doing anything tonight?”
“Emmalynn has a piano recital at six then Drake has a Karate promotion at seven.”
“Well, good luck with getting to both places at once!” Quinn remarked laughing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “It’s been this way for three years now. We’ll both go to the recital then Todd will leave a bit early to get to Karate and Em and I will follow when she’s done. Afterward, we’ll grab a bite to eat at some shitty pizza place the kids like then we’ll drop them off at my mom and dad’s so I can take Todd in for the vasectomy tomorrow.”
“Is he scared?”
“He keeps saying he’s afraid his penis is too big and will get in the way,” Daphne said with a snort.
“Oh, gosh. Typical man,” Quinn said laughing.
“Tell me about it.” Daphne rolled her eyes as she chuckled. “Okay, I’m out. You need me, I’m around.”
“Thanks. And back atcha. Tell Todd good luck! And that I hope his dick’s still attached when he wakes up.”
“Yes, Dr. McDonnell, I’ll be sure to do that.” Daphne rolled her eyes then laughed. After giving Quinn a quick hug she was gone.
Quinn stayed another hour entering the notes from her last session, then she pulled up the encryption app and had just sat back in her chair to stretch when her cell rang.
Rod. Great.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey. You still at the office?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d it go with the parents?” he asked.
Although patients’ cases were confidential, she’d shared this one with Rod when she’d been upset after a particularly brutal session with Ben. She’d asked Rod’s advice on how to proceed because she hadn’t been sure at the time. She knew she’d probably crossed a line ethically, even though she’d mentioned no names, but he’d helped her break through a bit the next session and it had been worth it.
“As well as can be expected, I guess.”
“Did the punk stepbrother show up?” Rod queried.
“Boy, did he. Threatened me and everything.”
“Hm.” He did his signature pause that was beginning to wear on her before asking, “So can I take you to dinner?”
“It’s after nine, Rod. I’m tired. Maybe tomorrow?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to continue seeing him any longer and maybe by the next evening, she’d know how to tell him.
“Tonight.”
She sighed. He always tried pulling this dominant crap on her. And where it’d been hot with Gunner, with Rod it just fell flat. “I can’t. I’m tired.”
“Goddamn it, I said tonight, Quinn.”
Her temper flared and she’d had it. “No, Rod. I don’t want to go to dinner. Matter of fact, I don’t want to see you anymore. It’s over.”
“What?” He laughed. “You’re telling me it’s over? That’s some pretty funny shit right there. Let me see. You fucked another man at the party and I’m still talking to you.” He chuckled. “All right, look, Quinn. I’m being the nice guy here, inviting you to dinner. If you promise not to screw up again, I’ll forgive you. Otherwise, we’ll have to find another way for you to make it up to me.”
“I’m sick of your manipulation, Rod. You know what? You can stick all that shit up your ass.” She hung up mad that she’d let him make her angry but also glad because maybe he’d get it through his head that she was done with him. He’d manipulated her one too many times, she always knew what he was doing but let it go for some godforsaken reason, but she’d finally had enough.
Just as she got up to leave, the phone on her desk rang.
“Dr. McDonnell,” she answered.
“Hi, Dr. McDonnell,” a voice that was high-pitched stated.
“
Hello.”
“Wanna pway a guessing game wif me?” The voice sounded like a man who was trying to talk like a little boy.
Which was creepy as fuck and had her immediately thinking it was Tommy Edwards. Shit!
“I don’t have time for games,” she declared, pulling her digital recorder from her desk, putting it on her desktop and placing the call on speaker.
The man-child giggled making her shudder. “I think you’ll wike this game.”
“Okay, let’s try it.” She guessed she could get enough recorded then if necessary, the police could do a voice match. Jesus.
“I want you to guess what I’m gonna do to you…”
“I have no idea.”
He giggled again making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “I’m gonna cut your heart out…then I’m gonna eat it.”
Fuck. This was exactly what she’d read yesterday from Ben’s session, exactly what Tommy had told him to do to the dead dog.
“Tommy?”
“This isn’t Tommy.”
“Well, I think it is.”
“Nope. You’re wrong,” the falsetto voice answered. “Know what I’m gonna do next? Chop you up into itty bitty pieces.” A shrill laughter pierced her ear from the line just before she ended the call.
She next picked up the phone and made an immediate call.
“Security,” a man answered.
“Hi, this is Dr. Quinn McDonnell on the twenty-first floor. I’d like to request an escort, please, uh, from my office to the elevator then out to the parking garage.”
“Someone will be right up, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
She closed down her software, turning off her laptop to take with her. Placing the recorder on top of it, she gathered her things then left her office. The picture of a laughing boy hanging behind Justine’s desk had her wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as she could. So turning out lights, she left the main office and waited in the hallway.
“Get your shit together,” she whispered to herself as she stood waiting in the hallway for the elevator to get there with the security officer.
She jumped when a noise to her right had her looking to the end of the hallway and she saw a man looking at her through the small window in the door.
“Oh, fuck!” She ran toward the elevator and pushed the down button nonstop wishing it to get there as she did. And when the lift dinged that it had arrived, she let out a small scream.
“Ma’am, it’s okay. I’m here to escort you down,” the uniformed man said as he stepped out.
“There’s…there’s a man in that stairwell!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door. The security guy looked to where she pointed and started walking toward the stairway. “Wait! Do you have a gun?”
The man stopped and looked back at her, grabbing his side and pulling out his gun. “I do.”
When he kept walking toward the door, Quinn came up behind him and grabbed onto his shirt hunching down slightly as she walked with him. He gave her a funny look but she didn’t give a crap. No way was she standing at the elevator by herself. And no way was she going to stand her full height, even though it was miniscule, to get hit by a friggin’ bullet from Stairwell Stalker.
When they got to the door, the security guard looked through the glass then chuckled as he holstered his gun then opened the door.
“Hey, Max. That time of the week, huh?”
A huge hulking man wearing a hot pink shirt that said, “Jason’s Janitorial” in big letters across the front, stepped into Quinn’s field of vision and smiled shyly down at her. “Yeah. Mopping the floors. You a doctor in that office down there?” Max asked.
Quinn let go of the guard’s shirt and nodded.
“Sorry. I was stretching my back when I saw you in the hallway. Didn’t mean to frighten you, ma’am.”
“It’s okay. I’m just a little jumpy tonight is all.”
“Well, have a good one, Max,” the guard said, then looked down at her. “Ready?”
She nodded feeling a little foolish but not too much because that phone call had really rattled her. They boarded the elevator and the guard walked her to her car.
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it,” she offered.
“No problem, Doc. That’s what we’re here for.”
He waited until she drove away before going back inside the building.
Pulling into her space in the garage, Quinn thought of asking the security guard at the front desk of her apartment building to go up with her but figured she was good. Although her nerves were definitely on edge, she was a grown woman and had to do this by herself.
When she got to her floor, she looked around a moment before stepping off the elevator then rolled her eyes because there was no way anyone could get to her floor without the code.
Unless they were particularly sneaky.
And this made her hesitate a step.
Damn it! She had to stop thinking like that. She was safe. Tommy was just a punk who wanted to scare her and she was letting him do just that. So taking a deep breath, she walked toward her door reminding herself everything was good.
Until she saw the bracelet lying on the floor in front her door, the eyeball glaring up at her.
And she screamed.
Chapter 10
“Fuck!”
Gunner sat staring at his phone then finally let his fingers do the walking and texted Quinn.
—Hey, Quinn. It’s Gunner.
Three-point-two seconds later his phone rang.
“Gunner!” She sounded upset which immediately sobered him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up straight in the back of the cab.
“I—I just got to my apartment an—and someone left a—a bracelet. I-I had a former patient die…his brother threatened me…” She started crying and he couldn’t understand the rest of what she was saying.
“Is someone there with you?”
“Y-yes,” she cried.
“Give them the phone, Quinn.”
He heard her say something then a man answered, “Yes?”
“This is Gunner Murphy with Citadel Executive Protection. With whom am I speaking?”
“This is Detective Jared, NYPD. How can I assist you?”
“Detective Jared, you know my father, Hank Murphy.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m his son and I need the address to the apartment building,” Gunner explained.
“Not sure I can do that, son.”
“Goddamn it,” Gunner hissed under his breath. “Give the phone back to Ms. McDonnell, please.”
“H-hello?” Quinn said.
“Need the address to your apartment,” he instructed. When he got it, he told her, “I’ll be right there.”
He told the driver the new destination and once there he texted Quinn who gave him the code to get to her floor. When the elevator doors opened on her floor, he saw a few NYPD officers in the hallway and who he assumed was Detective Jared milling around.
“Can’t go in,” one of the officers told him as he approached Quinn’s apartment.
He wanted to take the guy by the shoulders and set him aside, but knowing that’d do no good, he hollered, “Quinn! It’s Gunner.”
Next thing he knew, he was hit with the force of her tiny body hitting him. Hard. He even had to step a foot back at the impact which, even though he knew the circumstances were dire, made him chuckle some.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said quietly against the top of her head, holding her close, feeling her body shaking, wracked with fear.
He looked up to see Tilly step out of the apartment, the scared look on her face very concerning, and when Oz came out right behind her, that made him really uneasy.
He nodded his head at Oz, who did the same back as he walked toward him.
“Let’s go back inside, honey,” Tilly said a moment later, giving Gunner a weak smile as she took Quinn by the shoulders, leading her back inside.
Oz explained in short what’d happened and all through his pissedoffedness, all Gunner could come up with was, “The fuck?”
“Pretty twisted shit,” Oz agreed. “The detective has contacted the building super for video footage to see if they can tell who did this.”
“Good.” Gunner looked around watching the police do their thing. “She’s not staying here.”
Oz shook his head. “Already told her she’s not.”
Narrowing his eyes, Gunner informed, “She’s staying with me.”
“Gonna have to battle Tilly on that one, brother,” Oz said, eyebrows raised and a trace of humor on his face.
“Don’t think so. Decision’s made.”
Oz chuckled. “It’s your funeral.”
Before going inside Quinn’s apartment, Gunner talked to Detective Jared and got his card, then with Oz leading the way back to Quinn’s bedroom upon entry they saw she was packing. Oz wrapped an arm around Tilly’s neck from behind, leaning down and whispering to her and they left the room, Tilly grinning at Gunner as they walked out.
He stood watching as Quinn continued pulling things out of drawers to put in a suitcase, and God, she looked hot wearing black yoga pants and a tight long-sleeved green shirt that hung off one shoulder where he could see an even tighter white tank top underneath.
“You think I need—” she started and turning around to see only Gunner there let out a quick, “Oh!” She kept her eyes on him for a moment before asking, “Where’d they go?”
“They’re in the living room.” She nodded, looking relieved. “You’re gonna stay with me.”
He watched as she absorbed that information, first, eyes wide, then brow wrinkling and finally the sass kicking in.
“No. I’m not.”
He chuckled thinking only she could have an attitude when her life was in danger.