Page 66 of Little Shattered Dreams

I was starting to feel uncomfortable, a feeling I didn’t have often.

“The bar fight you got into, the one that sent you to jail … was it your first?” I asked.

“My third.”

She smiled like she considered it an achievement.

“Would you say you tend to lose your temper a lot?” I asked.

“Used to, I guess.”

“What changed?”

“I’m sober, for starters. Over a year now. Figure another six months oughta be enough to convince my mother to let me see my …”

She glanced out the window, leaving me wondering what she was about to say.

“Convince your mother to let you see your what?” I asked.

“Not awhat. Awho. My daughter. She’s six. My mother has full custody.”

“Are you trying to regain custody?”

“That’s the plan.”

“How does your mother feel about that?”

“She still has a hard time trusting I won’t relapse, but she’s been out here a few times, seen the good we do for people, and we’ve been working through our issues.”

Kind of like Quinn had been working through hers.

Until she wasn’t.

“Are you making any progress?” I asked.

She took a few more drags off her cigarette and then snuffed the butt out on a plate. “Some.”

“Did you have any interaction with Quinn?”

“A little. The night Quinn died, I saw her out walking. Looked like she’d come from the front of the property. She was bawling her eyes out. I asked her if everything was okay and if there was anything I could do for her. She thanked me, but said no. Before she walked away, she asked if I’d seen Faith, and I hadn’t. Seemed odd that she asked about another guest until we learned Faith was her daughter. Makes sense now.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t say. Client privilege and all. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“Quinn is dead, and your boss hired me to find out why. Whatever client privilege you think you need to protect, you don’t.”

She tapped a fingernail against the tabletop, thinking.

I waited.

“All right. Fine. I was walking by Faith’s room the night Quinn died. Her window was open, and she was talking to someone on the phone—at least I think so, because I didn’t hear anyone else talking but her. She was upset.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. I heard her say she should have never agreed to come to the retreat.”

“Why not?”

---