Crash (Willowbrook #1)

Chapter 1

one

QUYNH

Q uynh tried to fight back the tears pressing incessantly at the back of her eyes the entire drive to Willowbrook.

She turned up the radio, blasting the catchy pop song through the sound system of her dilapidated car.

Unfortunately, as she belted out the emotional lyrics, she lost the battle, and the dam burst open. It was a valiant effort, though.

She was not a superstitious person, unlike her mother, but even she knew bad news on New Year’s Day was a bad omen.

Quynh couldn’t understand why the universe decided to slap her with a termination letter on Chinese New Year.

Out of all of the days in the year, the news happened on the most important one.

Her life had taken a steep nosedive into the shitter over the past twenty-four hours.

Instead of buckling under the weight of her world falling apart so spectacularly, she held her head high, packed a small bag containing her meager belongings, and high-tailed it out of town.

There was nothing left for her in the city except her broken dreams.

Until this moment, Quynh kept herself together by sheer will and determination. The frayed edges of her pride barely held on to her sanity as the miles stretched on, moving her away from grim reality and into the unknown.

Quynh promised herself she would not let the past twenty-four hours break her, but here she was. As sobs racked her petite frame, she reasoned some promises were meant to be broken.

She tried not to dwell on the what-ifs and focused on the future.

What used to be a clear picture in her mind was now a murky puddle, at best. No matter what her future might look like, Quynh knew she would be fine once she overcame this giant speed bump in her life.

Because that’s all this was. A giant speed bump.

When she was on the other side of said speed bump, she would look back and think things needed to happen this way in order for her to have a better and brighter future.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t wallow in self-pity for at least a little while as she licked her wounds.

She passed the state’s welcome sign a few hours ago, which meant there were only a few more hours left until she reached her destination.

Quynh never thought she’d ever return to Willowbrook.

Especially not after how she left the picturesque mountain town years ago, but here she was, speeding down the highway toward the last place she wanted to be.

If her mother were still alive, she’d give Quynh a stern lecture about responsibilities and not running away from your problems. The thought of her mother sent Quynh into another round of racking sobs.

It had been a while since she thought about her mother.

Everything had to happen for a reason, right?

As the song came to a dramatic end, she took a deep inhale to center herself.

Her phone pinged in the cupholder, alerting her to a new message.

Shuddering, Quynh refused to look at another email for as long as she lived.

The last time she got an email, it had been the match that set her world on fire.

For the past few years, Quynh worked as a nurse practitioner.

Last night, her phone had pinged with a new email.

She forgot to turn it on silent for the night.

Just as she got settled into bed, her phone pinged with an alert.

Curious, Quynh unplugged her phone from the charger and saw a new email notification flash across her screen.

Unlocking her phone, she’d rolled her eyes at the message preview, which showed her name was misspelled.

Though it was pronounced ‘Quinn’, it was frustrating after years of working with Jared, he still didn’t know how to spell her name correctly.

Annoyance quickly changed to confusion at receiving a message so late on a Friday night.

She should have listened to her gut and not opened it until the next day, but the red alert beckoned her.

Her finger trembled as she opened up the email. It was an unusually long message from her employer. A cold wave of dread washed over her as she read the opening sentence, each word like a chilling premonition. Frantically, she’d scrolled to the bottom of the message.

To her horror, the last paragraph stated her employment with the company was terminated effective immediately because of “budget cuts and low funding.” Donations and grants from the federal government were necessary to keep the non-profit organization running, and apparently, the well dried up.

The news hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her in stunned silence.

She’d stared slack-jawed at her phone for what seemed like hours, although it was probably only a couple of minutes.

She’d snapped out of it when Pickles, her oversized Maine Coon, meowed in irritation at her lack of attention.

Giving him a quick pat on the head with a shaky hand, she’d tried to go back to sleep, but thoughts of her future raced through her mind.

After tossing and turning for hours, Quynh finally fell into a fitful sleep.

When she finally woke earlier that morning, she was determined to soldier on.

Quynh was a professional with a master’s degree and many years of experience under her belt. She was marketable and employable. There was no need to panic.

Empowered by her pep talk, Quynh leaped out of bed, accidentally bumping Pickles, who let out a disgruntled huff and thump of his fluffy tail.

She gave the cranky old cat a loving pat on his head as she bounded to her bathroom.

Dressed in jeans and a loose sweater, she skipped putting any makeup on.

She needed to head into the office to gather her belongings. Since it was a Saturday, the office was closed, and she’d rather be alone for this than have an audience. She shuddered to think about the pitying looks on their faces if she waited for Monday.

No, thank you. I do not need to be a spectacle or the added humiliation.

Marching into her living room, Quynh located a cardboard box.

She had been too lazy to take it down to the other side of her apartment complex for recycling.

In this case, her laziness worked out in her favor.

Besides, Pickles had been enjoying hiding inside the box for the past couple of weeks.

She flipped the box upside down to rid it of the fur balls Pickles left behind.

She’d clean up the mess when she got back.

Box in one hand, Quynh grabbed her purse and keys from the table by the door. She found her favorite pair of sneakers and headed out of her small apartment.

She couldn’t think about her future yet. First things first. She needed to get her stuff from her office. Then, she’d figure out her next steps.

Q uynh drove the short distance to the clinic, where she spent more time than at home. As she pulled into the parking lot, she noticed a slew of police cars in front of the building.

Frowning, Quynh parked her car at the edge of the parking lot before slowly getting out of her car with the box in one hand.

Bright yellow crime scene tape, stark against the building’s aged brick, created a chilling and foreboding atmosphere.

Quynh suppressed the rising panic at the scenarios flashing through her mind.

Why are the police here?

Hesitantly, she approached the police officer standing guard at the entrance of the building. He looked her over disdainfully when she was a few feet away.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

The police officer placed his hands on his belt and waited for a beat before responding.

“Can I help you? ”

“I work—worked here…I was coming by to get my belongings.”

His expression shifted from disinterest to curiosity at her response.

“What’s your name?” He pulled out a notepad from his breast pocket, clicked his pen, and poised it as if to take notes. When she didn’t immediately answer, he glanced up at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Um…Quynh Le. Can I go inside? I’ll be really quick.” She gestured with her empty cardboard box as if that would convince him.

“You can’t enter the premises. This building is a crime scene.”

Her head reared back in surprise.

“Did something happen here?”

Was someone hurt after I left last night?

She was usually the last person to leave, but the night before, Jared had still been in his office when she left.

“I can’t discuss the details.”

The main doors creaked open just as she was about to ask more questions. She watched in horror as someone wheeled a gurney out with a black body bag.

The blood drained from her face as she stared in shock. Her ears rang as her attention focused on the obviously dead body being wheeled into the ambulance.

“Ma’am, are you okay? ”

She snapped back to attention when a hand gripped her upper arm.

“I’m f-fine,” she lied as the earth tilted beneath her feet.

“You should sit down.” He guided her to the curb and gently pushed her to sit.

With her butt firmly on the curb, she inhaled deeply as the dizziness subsided. A dozen different scenarios flitted through her mind. The officer stood beside her as she caught her bearings. When she glanced up, she realized he was studying her.

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a nurse practitioner for the clinic.”

“Why do you need to get your things?”

“I-I got an email late last night from Jared that I was terminated.” A flush crawled up her neck, and her cheeks heated with embarrassment.

The officer paused before tucking his notepad away into his breast pocket.

“Can you show me the email, please, miss?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” She fumbled to grab her cell phone tucked in her back pocket. Her hands were trembling, and it took several attempts before she could unlock her phone and pull up the email.

“Here.”

The officer grabbed her phone out of her hands.

She bit down on her lip and tucked her hands between her thighs to stop them from trembling.

A prickle of unease rolled down her spine.

She forced herself to remain still as his eyes scanned the email.

Voices trickled into her awareness as she waited with bated breath.

Her eyes roamed the mill of people bustling around the building.

A quick glance around confirmed she was the subject of several people’s attention.

The noises from the crime scene on the otherwise quiet street amplified her anxiety.

The officer’s face furrowed in concentration when he reached the bottom of the email.

She didn’t want to focus on how embarrassing it was to have your most shameful moment shared so candidly.

After a tense moment, he finally looked up from her phone and requested a copy of the email. At her nod, he typed on her phone. She assumed he forwarded the email to his own as evidence.

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful,” the officer finally said. “I’m afraid I can’t let you into the building until we clear it.”

“What happened?”

“The cleaning service called us this morning to report that they found a man dead in his office.”

She stared wide-eyed at the officer, covering her mouth with a hand as the shock of the news hit her.

“Was it…?”

“I’m afraid the details are confidential.”

She nodded along as if everything he said made sense when, in reality, she couldn’t figure out which way was up or down anymore. He handed her his business card, got her information, and assured her he would be in contact if necessary.

She vaguely recalled getting into her car and driving back to her apartment. She’d sat on the couch in a daze until an alert pinged through her phone.

Frowning, she pulled her phone out to check the message from an unknown number.

Unknown

Dad’s in the hospital. Doc said he won’t have much longer. Thought you should know.

Only one person could be texting her.