Page 37 of Dangerous Lies

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.”

TWENTY-ONE

The Knoxville Police Department buzzed with activity. Uniformed officers hunched over cubicles, hammering out reports, while a steady hum of voices mixed with the occasional ringing phone. The air carried the faint scent of sweat and stale pizza, though the place itself was remarkably clean—except for the bearded man slumped on a bench in county-issued jail clothes. His wrists were cuffed in front of him, and from the look of his greasy hair and dirt-streaked face, he hadn’t showered in days.

Jax barely noticed any of it. His gaze was locked on Chief Garcia’s office door, his pulse thudding like a war drum. Inside, his boss and Noah were questioning Wesley. The blinds were drawn, blocking his view.

Was his brother about to be arrested for attempting to kill Megan?

“Dude, chill,” Dawson muttered. “If you keep pacing in that same spot, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor next to my desk.”

Jax stopped mid-step and shot him a glare. “You really want to start on me right now?”

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