Chapter 35

35

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

" A ll right, folks." Jewel Barrett's voice crackles over the speakers. "It's showtime."

Jack and I garner a set of seats, third row from the front, dead middle. As far as seating at any venue goes, it's my least favorite. Church, ballgames, and recitals of any nature, I'm an end-of-the-row kind of girl. You landlock me between a mile of knees in either direction and I start to get twitchy. Not even Quantico could have cured me of that.

The lights dim as the stage lights illuminate the panelists, their faces offering an unearthly glow as the room turns its focus in their direction.

Jack leans in and places his mouth directly over my ear, breathing softly, warmly over my flesh for a moment before speaking. It sends chills through me. Most likely for the wrong reasons. I hate how weak my flesh can be.

"Jewel Barrett," he whispers it hot, directly into my ear, and it feels like a lullaby, a love song.

I shake my head as all sorts of thoughts come at me rapid-fire.

"I'd like to welcome you all to the Suspense in Thrillers panel for the night." Jewel's voice booms across the room like a gong. "We've got six wonderful bestselling authors here tonight who will to take you on a tour of their demented and twisted minds, and they're willing to answer just about any questions you may have." She proceeds to make the introductions and saves Damien for last. "And last, but certainly not least," Jewel announces, turning to the spot where Damien Cole sits. His appearance is met with a smattering of polite applause and a few enthusiastic whoops piercing the mild reception.

Damien's smile is tight and forced as he nods in acknowledgment. His eyes briefly meet mine, and there's a flicker of something—guilt, fear, maybe both—that skirts across his features before he composes himself.

Jewel clears her throat. "Damien's recent work has explored the darker aspects of human nature, something that seems to resonate with many of us here today."

The irony of her words isn't lost on any of us. But if only the audience knew just how close to home those themes really hit for Damien. I'm beginning to wonder if I know how deep and dark they hit as well.

Jewel dives right in asking each author to describe their perfect writing environment, questions about the way they craft their stories, and questions about what they're working on next.

A half hour drifts by, but I can't seem to pay attention. Instead, I lose myself in watching the way Damien threads a pen through the fingers of his left hand.

A thought comes to me and I pull out my phone. I punch in Damien Cole and the words author signing before pages of images come up.

Jack leans in and we see it at the same time.

Damien is left-handed.

We exchange a glance. He made a pretty big to-do about being handicapped with his right hand out of commission. And now it all feels like a show.

I spot Adrienne seated near the front to our right, glaring up at Damien as if he slaughtered Mr. Darcy. Something the woman said to us that day at her bookstore comes back to me. She said, Knowing the way a cheater's mind works, it wouldn't surprise me at all if there were more women involved than one .

"More than one woman," I practically mouth the words as I look at Jewel.

Owen's words come back to me as well in regard to the woman. I had said, I guess she knows which side her bread is buttered on , and he replied, Oh, she definitely knows that.

A hard groan evicts from me as I look to Jack and he nods as if he was one step ahead.

My phone buzzes and so does Jack's, and we pull them out to find a text from Hale.

Strands of medium-length red hair were found in the back of Lydia's sedan along with a blood type that matches Nikki's.

Jack and I lift our eyes to one another, then to the stage.

"That's it," he says just above a whisper. "That's all we need."

Jack and I stand and make our way to the front just as the audience bursts into applause at something one of the panelists said. We're about to head to the exit and man our posts while making sure our suspect doesn't leave the room once the panel is dismissed.

"Thank you so much," Jewel tells the panelists. "Now we're going to open the floor to questions from our audience." She looks down and spots me just as a man steps in my path and lands a microphone in my face. "Oh wow." Jewel looks stymied. "I guess you've got the first question." Her lips quiver a bit. "Please, by all means, ask away."

I glance at Jack and he tips his head as if daring me to go ahead with it.

There's something about that look on his face that makes me want to do it.

"Ms. Barrett, this question is for you," I say with a nod. "Did you take Lydia Cole's sedan for a drive two nights ago?"

The room breaks out into dark murmurs as if Lydia's name were verboten at the event. I can see why it would make them uncomfortable.

Jewel's face burns a bright shade of crimson as she glares down at Jack and me.

She pulls the microphone down to her chest before uttering something unintelligible to Damien, but I catch the last two words, your involvement .

Judging by the expressions of the other panelists, it looks as if it was a nasty remark from beginning to end.

Damien's eyes widen her way and there's a note of fear in them. He looks caught off-guard, uncertain of what to do next. He jumps to his feet and the table hitches onto his waist before tipping this way, sending the books that were sitting on it scattering to the floor.

The room breaks out into gasps.

Damien bolts to the right side of the stage and disappears behind the curtain.

Jewel grabs the tote bag on the seat behind her and disappears behind the curtain as well just before a gunshot rings out.