Dangerous Lies (Badge of Honor #2)

Chapter 20

TWENTY

Megan’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she transcribed notes from her last client session. The door to her office was open, allowing the background hum of support staff to filter in from the hallway. A quick glance at her watch confirmed it was almost four. The day had flown by.

“I’m almost done,” she murmured, glancing at the loveseat tucked in the corner of her office. Jax sprawled across it, his long legs hanging off one end, his broad frame making the small furniture piece look even more diminutive. A cowboy hat covered his face, shielding his eyes from the overhead lighting. His breathing was deep and steady.

Poor guy had passed out. She couldn’t blame him. Spending hours at Clearview Counseling, shuffling in and out of her office between client sessions, had to be mind-numbing. But Jax had insisted on staying. For her protection. His steady presence had allowed her to focus on clients instead of worrying whether her attacker might strike again, and for that, Megan was grateful.

It’d been a hectic day.

Tess, Megan’s boss, had come down with the flu. Douglas’s mom was still in the ICU. That left the counseling center short-staffed, and although the office manager had rescheduled as many patients as possible, there were still a few appointments that couldn’t be postponed. Megan had fretted about leaving the safety of her property, especially after yesterday’s drone attack, but so far, the day had passed without incident. She prayed it would stay that way.

A knock on the doorframe pulled Megan from her thoughts. She glanced up to find Stacey, the receptionist, wringing her hands. Her gray-streaked hair was pulled back from her narrow face, and a pair of reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck.

“I’m sorry, Megan, but we just had a client walk in. Quinton Jones. I told him Douglas isn’t here today, but he’s insisting on speaking to someone.” Stacey bit her lip. “I can tell him to come back if you need to leave, but… he seems distraught.”

Quinton. Megan mentally grimaced, remembering their last interaction at the coffee shop, where he had asked her—point-blank—if she had killed Oliver. Quinton normally saw Douglas. She could insist he wait until her colleague returned, but if Stacey thought he was upset, could she send him away just because she was uncomfortable?

She accessed his records on the computer, scanning through the notes. “Douglas hasn’t updated anything in Quinton’s file for months.” Megan glanced at Stacey. “Any idea what the issue is?”

“He wouldn’t say, but it looks like he’s been crying.”

That was all Megan needed to hear. “Send him back, Stacey.”

Stacey nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Their conversation had interrupted Jax’s nap. He sat up, rubbing his face, and Megan shot him an apologetic look. “Looks like I’ll be a bit longer.”

“It’s okay.” He stretched as he stood. To preserve their privacy, Jax couldn’t stay in the office while she spoke with her clients. “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.”

Megan grinned, gesturing toward his chin. “You’ve got a little drool there, Detective.”

A faint blush crept across his cheeks as Jax wiped at his face, only to realize a second too late that she was messing with him. He shot her a playful glare.

Megan chuckled, setting her legal pad and pen on the small table in the seating area. “You know, in action movies, the hero never sleeps. What if something happened while you were napping? I would’ve had to save you .”

“Trust me, sweetheart, my eyes were closed, but no one would get past me to you.”

Megan’s breath hitched. Sweetheart? She turned, but Jax had already disappeared into the hall.

They’d both been dodging the elephant in the room since she’d recklessly kissed him yesterday, but obviously, he was thinking about it too. That knowledge both exhilarated and terrified her. She didn’t want to survive these near-death incidents, only to have her heart broken by Jax.

And broken is what it would be.

There was no future for them. Megan was a part of the worst day of his life. That fact couldn’t be erased, no matter how much she might wish otherwise.

A shadow filled her doorway. Quinton. His long-sleeved shirt strained against his broad chest and muscular arms. Mud peppered the bottom of his jeans, and his scuffed boots suggested he’d paid little attention to where he’d been walking. His ball cap was turned backward, dark hair curling at the edges. And, just as Stacey had said, his complexion looked rough—eyes red, jaw tight.

Despite his imposing size, Quinton reminded her of a broken little boy.

Megan waved him toward the couch and shut the office door. “What’s going on, Quinton?” She sat down across from him. “You seem upset.”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Megan let the silence stretch, giving him time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he swallowed hard. “If someone asks you to do something… something wrong… but also right… what should you do?”

Megan settled back in her chair. “That sounds complicated. Can you tell me more?”

He licked his lips, nervous. “I…” His eyes flicked up to hers, then away again. “Maybe this isn’t right. I was hoping to talk to Tess.”

“Tess is out sick with the flu.” Megan offered him a reassuring look. “I know you were expecting her, and I’m sorry she’s not here to help. But I am. It’s clear something is weighing on you. Let’s talk about it. Maybe we can figure this out together.”

He trailed a finger across the stitching of her couch. “That guy out there… he’s a cop, isn’t he? He’s protecting you. I heard about the attacks. Everyone in town is discussing it.”

I’m sure they are. Megan hadn’t been out and about town since the first drone attack, but her imagination filled in the blanks. Gossip about her had run rampant before all of this. It would take months to die down, but eventually it would. Right now, the rumor mill was the last of her concerns.

No, her primary aim at the moment was Quinton. Clients sometimes latched onto irrelevant topics to avoid discussing what was troubling them. “We aren’t here to talk about me, Quinton.” She kept her voice calm but firm, setting a boundary. “I want to understand what’s bothering you, but you have to tell me what’s going on. If you don’t want to talk, we can end the session now.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “That’s rude.”

Anger colored his words. Goosebumps prickled across Megan’s skin, and her gaze shot to the closed door. Jax was right outside.

Calm down. There was no reason to be afraid of Quinton. He was struggling with whatever he needed to say, and she was just on edge from the recent attacks.

“It’s not my intention to be rude,” she said evenly, her patience thinning. Maybe he needed to ease into the conversation. “Why don’t we start with what you did today?”

Quinton’s leg jittered. “I bought a gun,” he blurted.

She stilled. “What kind of gun?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” Megan once again glanced at the door. She resisted the urge to get up and open it. “Why did you buy a gun?”

He swallowed hard, his leg bouncing even more. “I’ve been asked to do something, and I don’t know if it’s right.” His breath hitched. “I…” Quinton shook his head and abruptly pushed to his feet. “This was a mistake.”

“Wait.” Megan replayed their conversation in her head—his tears, his hesitation, his anxiety. Dread churned her stomach. “Quinton, has someone asked you to do something illegal?”

He shook his head quickly, but the gesture wasn’t convincing. “I shouldn’t be talking to you?—”

“Why not?”

He didn’t answer. Before she could utter another word, Quinton bolted for the door.

Megan sprang from her chair and chased after him. “Quinton!” She heard Jax’s footsteps behind her, his voice cutting in with a sharp, “What’s going on?”

There wasn’t time to explain.

An internal whisper told Megan she had to stop Quinton before he made a terrible mistake. Desperation quickened her steps. “Quinton, wait! Please!”

He didn’t slow. Quinton raced past Stacey’s desk, ignoring the receptionist’s startled question, and shoved open the main door. Cold air hit Megan’s face as she followed him outside. A black Explorer revved its engine, tires screeching as it tore out of a nearby parking space. Quinton was behind the wheel.

She waved frantically, trying to get him to stop.

He didn’t.

“Megan!”

Jax’s strong arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back just as the Explorer whipped past, narrowly missing them. The vehicle peeled out of the lot and disappeared onto Main Street.

Megan stood frozen in Jax’s grip, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“What just happened?” Jax demanded.

“He…” Megan nearly blurted out the whole incident before catching herself. She couldn’t confide in Jax. Patient-client confidentiality applied. She replayed the conversation in her head. Quinton’s behavior had been erratic, and Megan suspected someone had asked him to do something illegal, but she didn’t have confirmation. Her legal and moral obligation was with her client. “I can’t tell you what Quinton said. It’s covered by confidentiality.”

Jax’s brow furrowed as he stared down the road. “He was driving a black Explorer.”

“Is that important?”

“I don’t know.” Jax’s gaze settled on hers. “A neighbor spotted a dark-colored Explorer on a dirt road near your house around the time of the drone attack yesterday.”

His words sent a chill down her spine. “Lots of people have black Explorers.” She struggled to keep the worry at bay. Could Quinton be responsible for the attacks on her? Or was she seeing danger where there wasn’t any? None of this made sense. “I need to speak to Douglas.”

Megan hated to bother him with his mother in the hospital, but she needed to understand the gravity of the situation. Since Quinton was normally his client, Douglas should have a better handle on whether there was reason to be concerned.

She hurried back into her office and scooped up her cell phone. Scrolling through her contacts, she found Douglas’s number and clicked her screen to dial it. He didn’t answer. Frustrated, Megan left him a message explaining it was an urgent client matter and asking him to call her as soon as possible. She tossed the phone on her desk. A headache was brewing behind her eyes.

“Can you tell me anything?” Jax circled the desk and sat on the corner.

She shook her head, collapsing into her leather chair and leaning against the headrest. “No. I’m probably overreacting.”

There was nothing in Quinton’s file to indicate he was violent. He’d been a drug user, but had been clean for nearly a year. At least, according to the records she’d read. Douglas hadn’t updated them in a while. That bothered her, but it wasn’t uncommon. He’d never been very good at keeping up with his paperwork.

Megan sighed. “Hopefully, Douglas will call soon. He’s at the hospital. Some ICUs don’t allow cell phones, depending on their rules.”

Jax opened his mouth, about to ask something else, but his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen. Then he shot to his feet.

Megan went back on high alert. “What is it?”

He blinked as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was reading. “They found my brother. Wesley is at the police station.”