“You don’t think maybe torching the house is a little over-the-top, even for a desperate real estate agent?”
“Look, Kelly was a good salesman, but he wasn’t exactly known for his high ethical standards. I don’t know if you were aware of it at the time, but thirteen years ago Kelly sold pot to half the kids in town. Everyone knows he was Brinker’s dealer as well.”
“I’ve heard that. Any reason to think he was still in that line?”
“No.” Quinn rose and went to stand at the window. “Furthermore, I’m strongly inclined to doubt it. I think there would have been some talk if that were the case. What I’m trying to tell you is that there is no reason to think his standards have improved. He wasn’t above doing something illegal if he thought he could get away with it.”
There was a light tap on the door. Quinn crossed the room to open it. The young woman who had been pouring wine for the tourists out front stood in the hall. She held a tray with two mugs. One mug had a tea bag string hanging over the edge.
“Thanks, Letty.” Quinn took the tray from her and set it down on a side table. “That’s all for now. Please tell Meredith to hold my calls until we’re finished here.”
“Yes, Mr. Colfax.”
Letty left, closing the door behind her.
Mason went to the window and looked out at the rolling, vineyard-covered hills.
“Sugar or cream?” Quinn asked.
Ever the gracious host, Mason thought. He did not turn around.
“Black,” he said.
Behind him, he heard Quinn open a sugar packet.
“Nice view,” Mason said.
“If you like vineyards.”
Mason turned away from the view. Quinn handed him the mug of coffee and picked up his tea.
“You might as well sit down,” Quinn said. He went behind his desk and lowered himself into his own chair.
Mason took one of the two chairs that faced Quinn. He tried a sip of the coffee. It was good. Probably freshly ground, using beans ethically sourced from an organic farm that used sustainable growing and harvesting techniques, this being Summer River and all.
Quinn drank some tea.
“Have you ever wondered what happened to Brinker’s accomplice?” Mason asked.
“Accomplice?” Quinn stiffened. A little tea splashed over the rim of his mug. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I pulled the old police files relating to the Scorecard Rapist. There was some indication that there was a second person involved in the rapes.”
“I never heard that.” Quinn scowled. “What are you getting at?”
“When you think about it, there are at least two people who might have had reason to worry after Brinker’s body fell out of the fireplace the other night. The accomplice and the person who was supplying the drugs to Brinker.”
“I told you, Brinker got his drugs from Nolan Kelly.” Quinn swept that issue aside. “But what’s this about an accomplice?”
Mason took another sip of the coffee. “It was just a theory at the time. Makes you wonder, though.”
“You’re going way out on a limb here, Fletcher. But say you’re right. Maybe there was an accomplice. Seems to me the most likely suspect would have been Kelly. He would have done anything to get close to the guy with all the power.”
“The power broker being Brinker?”
Quinn’s mouth tightened. “Yeah.”
Mason drank some more of the coffee and looked at the photos on the wall. “If there was a second person involved in the rapes, there’s reason to think that individual was handy with a camera.”
“You son of a bitch,” Quinn said. He put his mug down very carefully. His eyes went hard. “Are you accusing me of being the second ra**st just because I’ve got some photos hanging on my wall?”
“I’m not making any accusations—not yet. Just asking questions.”
“You want a suspect who was good with a camera?” Quinn said, his voice tight with rage. “Kelly fits the profile.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Who do you think took all the photos and videos of his listings? Kelly did his own marketing work. He was very good at it, too. Check out his website.” Quinn groaned and slumped deep into his chair. “Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper, but you have to admit that when you barge into a man’s office and accuse him of aiding and abetting rape, you’ve got to expect some pushback.”
“Sure.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with the videos.”
“You were as close to Brinker as anyone that summer. Are you saying you didn’t know he was the Scorecard Rapist?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck. “But you’re right. I probably knew Brinker better than most. And you know what that amounted to? Virtually nothing. In spite of all the teens who flocked around him, Brinker was the ultimate loner. He kept his secrets.”
“What did Brinker say and do that night after I left the two of you alone together at the ranch?”
“Brinker was in a rage, of course. I’d never seen him like that. Behind that smile he was ice-cold. But after you left, he really went off. Made a lot of threats. Said he’d make you pay and pay and pay. At the time I didn’t know how much to believe. But he scared the shit out of me, I can tell you that much.”
“Did he threaten to kill me?”
Quinn’s jaw tightened. “No, at least not immediately. He wanted to torture you first. He wanted you to suffer. He wanted to humiliate you and hurt you.”
“How did he intend to do that?”
Quinn rose and went to stand at the window, his back to Mason.
“He said that the best way to crush you was to go after Sara and Lucy Sheridan. When he was finished with them, he planned to do something to your brother. He didn’t get specific.”
“But he mentioned Sara Sheridan by name?”
“Yeah. I could tell he hated her, maybe even feared her for some reason.”
“Why?”
Quinn turned around. “I have absolutely no idea. It made no sense at the time. But that night when he was wild-eyed with rage, for some reason he blamed her.”
“For what?”
Quinn shook his head. “I don’t know. I swear to you I don’t have any idea what he was talking about. He was crazy mad. After you left, I got into my car and I went home. I was freaked, let me tell you. The next day Brinker left town. I never saw him again. I figured the threats he had made were all bluster. But within twenty-four hours he was reported as missing. Everyone started to talk about a drug-deal-gone-bad scenario. I wanted to believe that, but—”