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He was an emotional wreck from
the news they brought him but more so because of Saige’s touch and closeness.
“Here,” Warden Roscoe said, passing him and Saige each a tissue.
Saige stepped back and dried her face, which he also did, and only then did he allow his eyes to go to the warden. “What happens now?”
“You’ll be moved back to a death row cell in the morning, but I’m hoping you won’t be a resident here for much longer.”
“How?” He had no idea how that could be possible. Saige could speak on his behalf about her abduction, but he had still been convicted of murdering the college girls.
“The witness statements that have been discovered,” the detective informed him, “state you were in Chicago for one of the abductions and murder, and Miami for the other…like you originally stated. I’m not saying it’s going to be straightforward, but, eventually, we’re hoping your conviction is overturned and all charges dropped.”
Saige kneeled and took his large hands into her much smaller ones. “Don’t give up hope. I love you, Quinten.”
Rising up, she pressed a light kiss to his lips and smiled. “I promise to come back.”
He nodded, and whispered, “I love you.”
“I know.”
Detective Robinson wrapped an arm around Saige’s shoulders and led her from the room. It hurt not being the one to comfort her, but if he weren’t in prison, then she wouldn’t have needed comforting.
His head dropped to his chest with exhaustion. The stress and worry that he wouldn’t be alive to see day twenty-nine was finally over, but his mind wondered what next. Would he really be cleared of all charges?
* * *
11:00pm
* * *
There had been a lot to take in during the course of the day, and Saige longed to be closer to Quinten, which was why she decided to spend the night in the boathouse. It had been their secret place and she still planned on keeping it that way. Tonight, however, she felt that she needed to be where they’d been at their happiest because having to leave him in that place had hurt her deeply.
Slipping through the door, she paused when she saw the shape of a man sitting in a chair facing her. She gasped and his head snapped up at the sound, giving her a clear picture of his features as the moonlight cast him in its glow.
Paul.
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as she stood, watching him. Paul clutched something in his hands. It looked to be a wooden box and when she flicked on the light, she realized it was a jewelry box.
“I thought you would be in bed,” Paul stated, unmoving.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Saige stayed by the door and slowly started to back out.
He seemed cool as a cucumber while he clutched at the box with one hand and tapped the lid with his fingers. “I often come and sit in here when I’ve had enough of my mother going on and on about gossip. I have no interest in her gossip when mine is much more interesting.” Paul smirked. “Bet you’re curious.”
Her first instinct was to turn and run back to the main house, but she wanted to know what he knew. What if he knew something that would help set Quinten free? Did she want to take that chance, and run?
“Okay, I’ll bite. What gossip is more interesting than what your mother has to say?”
“Murder of course.”
Her blood ran cold and shards of ice slithered down her spine. “Whose?” she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.
“Poor Quinten, the clock is running out for him. I can see him, sitting in a death watch cell, watching the clock, feeling every second slip by until he’ll have no seconds left. It must crush him…especially since he didn’t do it.” He grinned. “Quinten wouldn’t have harmed a fly and I’m sorry that he was the Peterson brother to end up in jail. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Saige”—he stood—“you know exactly what I’m talking about. Jocelyn knew about me and that’s why that bitch managed to talk me into taking you.”
