Chapter 7
“I’ll start processing the scene,” Barbie said, slipping on booties and gloves.
I took a good look around the kitchen. A cutting board with diced onions and peppers sat on the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. Mari had obviously been making dinner.
“No sign of a break-in,” I said. “The front door looked intact, and the French doors over there seem secure. Plus, no broken windows that I’ve seen so far.”
Zane nodded. “So she either let someone in, or they had a key.”
“I have mud on the back doormat, and it’s damp,” Barbie said.
“So someone came in through the back,” I said.
Zane nodded. “Makes sense if they didn’t want to be seen entering through the front door. Hopefully, Sheriff Stiles or his men will get something from one of the neighbors.”
“Looks like ligature strangulation made by a narrow object,” Doc Treestone said from his position next to Mari’s body.
“Could be cord, ribbon, twine. Something like that.” He pointed to the marks on Mari’s neck.
“You can see how thin the rope was. Unless I have the murder weapon, Barbie and I can’t tell if it was magically enchanted or not.
” Doc Treestone rose and pushed his oval glasses up his nose.
“She hasn’t been dead long. Body temp and lack of any significant rigor mortis puts time of death between three and five today. I’ll know more when I do an autopsy.”
Barbie took out her magically enhanced fingerprint powder and large brush. “Let’s see what I can find.”
I turned to Zane. “I say we go talk to the husband.”
Zane nodded, and we headed back down the hallway. I paused near the wedding picture and could make out muffled voices from the living room. Sheriff Stiles was still with the husband.
“Someone walked into this house while Mari was making dinner,” I whispered. “No forced entry that we’ve found yet. No sign of a struggle, really. There are no overturned pots, no chopped veggies on the floor. Nothing that suggests she put up a fight of any kind.”
Zane crossed his arms and nodded. “I’d agree. She trusted whoever came through that door.”
I stepped through the archway and into the living room.
Hunter Quinn sat on the edge of the sofa. His elbows were on his knees, and he was staring at the floor. He lifted his hand to wipe away a tear from his cheek, but he didn’t speak. Sheriff Stiles sat catty-corner to him, while two deputies stood near the fireplace.
“We’re sorry for your loss, Hunter,” Sheriff Stiles said. “PADA will be taking it from here.” He gave Zane and me a nod before ushering his deputies out the front door.
The second Sheriff Stiles left the room, Hunter shot to his feet, flashing his fangs at us.
“What’s going on? Who killed my wife?” His voice cracked on the last word, and his hands shook as he ran them over his face.
“I came home and found Mari on the kitchen floor. I called the police, and now nobody will tell me a damn thing.”
“Hunter, please sit down,” Zane said.
Hunter looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he dropped back onto the sofa.
Zane sat in the tan wingback chair Sheriff Stiles had just vacated, and I sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “My name is Zane, and this is my partner, Detective Kara Hilder.”
The vampire scowled. “I know who you both are. Especially you, Zane.”
“And you are Hunter Quinn?” Zane asked.
“You know I am.”
Zane held up a hand. “We’re just establishing who everyone is, Hunter.”
I turned toward him. “We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Quinn.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. “If you’re sorry, then you’ll find out who did this to my wife.”
I nodded once. “Why don’t you walk us through what happened. From the time you walked through the door until you found Mari.”
Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. I left work around five, like I always do.” He paused and frowned.
“Actually, it was probably more like four-thirty, now that I think about it. It’s Valentine’s Day, you know, and Mari wanted to have some alone time together before dinner.
So maybe I got here at four-forty? I’m not sure.
” He waved a hand through the air. “Anyway, I parked in the garage and came in through the side door off the back kitchen. I remember closing the door and calling out to her that I was home. I set my briefcase down—we have this sort of bench seat cabinet by the garage door—and I set my briefcase down there and then hung up my coat.” He shrugged.
“When I didn’t hear her call back to me, I thought maybe she was in her writing room.
She sometimes would get lost like that. Lose track of time.
It wasn’t until I went inside the kitchen that I saw her.
” He closed his eyes. “She was on the kitchen floor, just sprawled out.”
I nodded. “And is there anyone who can corroborate you were in your office from lunchtime on?”
“Excuse me?” Hunter demanded. “Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m simply asking if we talked to your secretary or someone else, could they corroborate you were in your office from say two until four-thirty?”
Hunter’s nostrils flared. “I gave my secretary the day off. Well, half the day. I told her to go home after lunch. I only had one more appointment for the day, and I knew my secretary wanted to make her husband a nice meal.”
“What do you do for a living?” I asked.
Hunter threw up his hands in frustration. “Why are we focusing on this mundane crap? Why aren’t you finding out who murdered my wife?”
“This is part of the process, Mr. Quinn,” I said. “Now, what do you do for a living?”
Anger flashed in his eyes, and I thought he was going to flash his fangs at me again. “I’m an accountant. Mari is—was a romance writer.”
Zane leaned forward in his chair. “Had Mari received any threatening messages from readers lately? Maybe a fan who was upset or stalking her?”
Hunter shook his head. “No, not that I know of.”
“It looked like Mari was in the middle of making dinner,” I said.
He nodded. “Probably.”
“How long have you and your wife been married?” I asked.
Hunter gave me a sharp look. “Almost fifteen years. Why?”
I held up one hand. “Just asking questions. Unlike Zane, I haven’t lived here since the town was established hundreds of years ago.” I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “How did you meet your wife?”
Hunter’s eyes cut to Zane. “Is this really necessary? Who cares how I met my wife? What matters is who killed her!”
Zane nodded. “We understand you’re upset, Hunter. And you have every right to be. But you also need to answer our questions. It will help with our investigation.”
Hunter sighed. “I’ve known Mari since we were in elementary school. We dated in high school and got married not long after we graduated.”
“And stayed here in Mystic Cove?” I asked.
“No,” he said somewhat defensively. “We both went to the same supernatural college, graduated, and then came back here to live.”
I knew my next question was going to send him over the edge, but recent rumors were that he and Mari were having marital problems. “How was your marriage? Were you and Mari getting along or having any marital—”
“Our relationship was just fine!” Hunter exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and facing me. “What are you implying?”
“Please sit down, Mr. Quinn.” I’d put enough steel in my voice to let him know it wasn’t a request but a command. I waited until he sat back down. “I’m simply asking about your marriage.”
Hunter opened his mouth, but before he could answer, a shrill cry rang out from the foyer.
“Dad! Mom! What’s going on?” A few seconds later, a young girl appeared in the living room doorway, her dark eyes wide and skin pale. I guessed her to be around twelve or thirteen. “Daddy? What’s going on?”
Hunter rose and held out his arms to the young girl who flew into them. I glanced back over at the doorway and saw the vampire from yesterday, Eliza, standing there, looking uncertain. She met my eyes, and I gave her a small smile.
Eliza returned my smile, and then changed the cane in her hand to the other side and leaned against the doorway, watching the father and daughter.
“What’s happened?” the young girl demanded. “Why didn’t Mom come pick me up after cheerleading practice?”
Hunter held the girl away from him. “Jayla, I’m afraid I have terrible news. Your mother is…” He trailed off and swallowed. “Your mom is dead.”
Eliza gasped.
The gasp had been loud enough to make Hunter glance over at her, causing Eliza to straighten and lean on her cane.
“What are you doing here?” Hunter demanded.
I saw the look of surprise on Eliza’s and Jayla’s faces.
Jayla frowned. “Daddy, Ms. Nordic drove me home because no one came and got me.”
“That’s right,” Eliza said defensively. “I was the only adult left, and when five-thirty came around and Jayla still couldn’t get ahold of her mother, I offered to drive her home.”
“You’ve been trying to call Mari?” I asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Hunter snapped.
It was probably unprofessional of me, but I’d had enough of Hunter Quinn’s demanding behavior. “Because I’m wondering why we haven’t heard a cell phone ring.”
Hunter frowned. “Oh. I don’t know. Mari always has her phone on her.”
“May I leave?” Eliza asked from the doorway.
Zane nodded as he stood. “Of course, Eliza. Thank you for driving Ms. Quinn home.”
Eliza nodded to Zane before looking at Jayla. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Jayla.”
Tears leaked from Jayla’s eyes. “Thanks, Ms. Nordic.”
The woman gave us all one more fleeting smile before turning and exiting the doorway.
The fact Eliza hadn’t asked how Mari died made me wonder if maybe we shouldn’t question her further.
Even though the interaction between Eliza and Mari in the alleyway yesterday seemed positive, it was clear Rayna Halter hadn’t wanted Mari to befriend Eliza Nordic, and I got the feeling Hunter Quinn didn’t like her either.
And I couldn’t help but wonder why that was.
“Hunter,” Zane said, bringing me out of my musing, “we’ll need to ask Jayla a couple questions as well.”
“I don’t know,” Hunter hedged.
“It’s important to the investigation, Hunter,” Zane said.
And just like that…I remembered where I’d heard the name Hunter. When I’d been walking down the alleyway earlier in the afternoon and overheard the intimate moment between the giggling woman and man inside, she had mentioned the man’s name was Hunter, and she was asking about his divorce.