Chapter 20 #2
Arthur rose to his feet as well, casting his gaze about for others. He felt so precarious here, and not just because of the rickety bench. The sheriff might have followed Quinn. He might have followed Nora, for that matter.
“How did you find us?” Arthur asked.
“I forgot my purse at the inn so I had to go back for it and…I got a little nosy, I guess.” Quinn shrugged. “You know, when you leave a voicemail on one of those machines and someone picks up partway through, it still records the whole conversation.”
“So, what’s the plan? Kill us here without any witnesses?” Arthur knew he was reaching, but he couldn’t help it. Without Salvatore beside him, he felt like a rogue hot-air balloon—loose on the wind with no real navigational tools.
“No, that would be stupid, right?” Quinn asked, brow furrowed.
“If I was actually the murderer—which I’m not—it would be a lot harder to frame you if I killed you, too.
Also, wouldn’t I want an audience for that sort of thing?
Then I could claim to be protecting the town all heroically or something. ”
Arthur took a step back. “For someone who claims not to be a killer, you’ve put a lot of thought into this…”
Quinn shook her head. “Sorry. I had a murder podcast phase.”
Arthur exchanged a look with Nora, hoping he could convey the seriousness of the situation through his gaze alone. He didn’t know what a podcast was, but it sounded dangerous.
“Oh, no, Arthur, it’s okay,” Nora said. “Podcasts are just like radio, but on demand. She’s saying she used to listen to a lot of true crime audio stories.”
“Sounds like the sort of thing a murderer might do,” Arthur hedged, but even he had to admit his evidence was shaky at best.
“Yeah, or like half of all millennial women in the 2010s,” Quinn muttered.
“These radio shows don’t explain your behavior at brunch this morning,” Arthur pressed. “You were upset when you learned Brody hadn’t been the one to break into your office Thursday night.”
Quinn looked at her shoes—which gleamed a shiny, scuff-free black despite how she’d just popped out of the woods—and spoke, her voice subdued.
“First thing Friday morning I called Trip Young to tell him his son had trespassed at city hall. I told him I didn’t want to go to the police about it, but I know Brody got in trouble.
Half the town saw Dr. Young yelling at Brody that afternoon.
But he was still out tagging when he got attacked.
If I’d gone to the sheriff, or if I hadn’t told Dr. Young, maybe Brody wouldn’t have been there, acting out.
” She shook her head slowly. “He had nothing to do with the break-in. I accused an innocent teenager of a crime, and now he—”
Her words cut off, hanging in the air among them.
“You’re not responsible for what happened to Brody Young,” Arthur said softly. “Assuming you didn’t attack him.”
“I didn’t hurt anyone.” Quinn looked up, squaring her shoulders. “Anyway, if anyone here is guilty, it’s Nora.”
“Me?” Nora exclaimed, pointing to herself. “Seriously, Quinn? You think I’m a killer?”
“You certainly were mercenary enough when you left. Didn’t even say goodbye, did you?
Maybe you’re the one who wants to be mayor badly enough to kill for it.
” Quinn crossed her arms and stared daggers at Nora.
“Besides, you were there at the inn the night he died. Who’s to say the two of you didn’t conspire? ”
“Let me get this straight,” Arthur said, leaving a painful pause for an absent Sal to crack a joke about heterosexuality. “We’re all suspicious, we all don’t have alibis, and now we’re all here accusing each other while the real killer is sitting pretty, probably laughing at us somewhere.”
Quinn and Nora didn’t tear their eyes off each other, each glaring furiously.
“Might it behoove us to stop trying to scapegoat one another and instead put our heads together?” Arthur asked hesitantly.
“I wouldn’t work with her if you paid me,” Quinn grumbled.
“They literally are paying you!” Nora threw her hands up. “We both want what’s best for this town, right? Why can’t we just set our differences aside and be professional? I don’t know what else I can do, Quinn.”
“You could say you’re sorry,” Arthur said so quietly he almost didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until both Nora and Quinn were staring at him. “Well…you could. It sounds to me like Quinn doesn’t trust you because of how you left. Is that right?”
“I mean…yeah…” Quinn said.
Nora threw down her hands. “Of course I’m sorry,” she said. “Obviously.”
“Not obviously.” Quinn set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “You never said it.”
Nora’s lip quivered slightly, but she squared her shoulders and continued. “Why is this all on me, anyway? You know why I left. I couldn’t stay after—”
“Seriously? Is this about the city council internship? Because I turned it down.”
Arthur felt rather like a third wheel in their strange but necessary conversation. He stood as still as a statue as they volleyed back and forth, rehashing events he didn’t have the faintest knowledge of.
“You stabbed me in the back, Quinn. You knew how long I worked on my application—you even helped me with it! How could you just swipe it out from under me?”
Quinn shook her head so violently her bun fell out into a loose ponytail. “No, no, I didn’t want the internship.”
“Bull.”
“I didn’t! I wanted you to stay, Nora. I tried to turn it down, tell them to take you instead, but you’d already gone.”
“Yeah, well, it was obvious I wasn’t going to get anywhere here. They picked you and the mayor’s nephew. Two typical white kids for their mediocre white town. They were never going to give me a chance. I had to leave, don’t you get it?”
Quinn’s shoulders slumped.
“Why did you even apply if you didn’t want it?” Nora asked, almost a whisper.
“I heard they were taking two interns…I thought it would be fun, us working together. I thought maybe it would convince you to stay after we graduated.” Quinn hung her head, jaw slack. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise, but obviously that backfired.”
“I was so angry…” Nora spoke as if through a dream, pulling memories up by the roots and laying them bare. “I didn’t want to talk to you ever again.”
“Yeah, I got that when you stopped responding to my emails and calls. Eventually I just stopped trying. And when you showed up again out of the blue, I guess all those feelings came back. It was like I was eighteen again and you’d abandoned me.
” Quinn sighed heavily. “And I guess it must have felt like that for you, too. Like I’d betrayed you. ”
“Sounds like we both have reasons to be sorry.” Nora took a step forward, then another and another until they were only a few feet apart. She extended her hand, palm up.
Quinn shook it, blinking rapidly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but there was a small, reserved smile on her lips. Nora returned the expression.
Arthur could almost feel Sal’s breath on his neck, whispering, Now kiss. But, of course, that was only an invention of his mind. Someday maybe he would get to tell Sal how right he’d been. For now, he’d have to be content with witnessing the beginnings of reconciliation.
“As lovely as this is, perhaps we should turn our attention back to the matter at hand,” Arthur said, stepping forward with a little wave. Quite pathetic, probably, but effective nonetheless.
Nora and Quinn, hands clasped, turned to face him. Judging by their expressions, they’d both quite forgotten he was present.
“Oh god, yeah. Sorry,” Nora said.
“Oh no…” Quinn bit her lip. “Arthur, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to being ignored, I just—”
“Not about that,” Quinn cut in. “About them.”
A siren hit the air and flashing blue and red lights danced in the trees.
Arthur turned slowly on the spot to face a line of police cars, including the sheriff’s green Mustang.
“Arthur Miller, you’re under arrest!” McMartin shouted.
It was the moment Arthur had been dreading since Lore told him his bite marks matched Brody’s wound.
But despite himself, Arthur smiled as he handed his umbrella to Nora and raised his hands above his head.
If Quinn and Nora were innocent, that left one suspect.
And now he would be in the perfect position to interrogate him.