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“It was never our intention.” Even her father looked close to tears. “We just wanted to protect you.”
“I understand that. I’m not blaming you. But those delusions—” She faltered. Did she really want to have this conversation now? “They weren’t delusions.”
Her parents exchanged a look.
“Please don’t look at me like I’m crazy.” Cassie looked to her sister for help. “Tell them I’m not crazy.”
Before Laura could answer, Cassie’s phone rang. She’d forgotten she’d had the ringer on, and it made everyone jump. When she fished her phone out of her pocket, it took her a moment to realize who it could be.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Quinn?” A deep, honeyed voice filled the other line. “It’s Chris Viotto.”
“Agent Viotto, yes.” She cast a quick glance at her family before turning her back to them. She desperately wanted to have this conversation, but not while everyone was staring at her. “What can I do for you?”
“My partner and I were wondering if we’d be able to speak with you. Your file was…enlightening.”
She would’ve smiled if she hadn’t been close to tears a moment ago. “That’s good to hear. I’d be happy to help.”
“Would now be a good time for you?”
Now was the worst time, but she wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. “Now is perfect. Should I head to the station?”
“I’ll meet you out front.”
“Give me a half hour, and I’ll be there.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Cassie’s stomach flipped at his words, but she squashed the feeling. When she turned back to her family, they were still staring at her. “I need to go.”
“Where?” her father asked
Her mom jumped in, too. “Did you say ‘Agent’?”
Laura had half a grin on her face. “Was that him?”
“Was that who?” Judy asked. She looked between the sisters. “What’s going on?”
Cassie had planned to break the news to her mom much more gently, but now she didn’t have the time or the energy. “That was Agent Viotto from the FBI. I’m helping him with Connor Grayson’s case.”
Everyone’s jaw dropped except Laura’s, who avoided eye contact with their parents by stealing a sip of Cassie’s wine.
“Why is he calling you about that?” Judy asked.
“I help the FBI sometimes. And local cops. I’m good at it.” She hadn’t expected the amount of pride in her voice. She wanted her parents to know what she did, and she wanted them to know she had skills no one else did. “I’ve solved a lot of cases.”
“You work in a museum.” Her father was looking at Cassie now with such confusion it was almost comical. “Why would the FBI need your help?”
“It has nothing to do with me working in a museum. I’m good at figuring out clues no one else
can.”
“You never told us this,” her mother said.
“I guess I forgot.” The words were out of Cassie’s mouth before she could stop them. Now it was Judy’s turn to look like her daughter had slapped her. “I’ll explain more when I get back.”
“You can’t go.” Judy looked around like she was trying to pull a reason out of thin air. “You’ve been drinking.”
