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“I know,” she said, and shuddered. “So awful. Samantha said you talked to her that night. What did she seem like to you? I just keep … well, I keepwondering.What really happened, I mean.”
“She seemed brilliant, actually,” he said. “Intellectually. I’m an anesthesiologist, and we got chatting about neuropsychology. It wasn’t either of our fields, but she’d been reading some studies. Quite a good chat.”
“Oh,” she said, “an anesthesiologist. Wow.” Hopefully that was enough fluffiness. “That’s weird, though, because I’d heard she might have been drunk.”
He scoffed. “Who told you that? The husband? He would say that, wouldn’t he? Wanted to tell himself that’s why she drove into the river. No, she was drinking something fizzy, with lime. Wine spritzer, maybe, and maybe just fizzy water. Her mind wasn’t affected, I’ll tell you that. Bloody bright woman. Fit, too.” He took another sip of beer. “But married, so obviously, I didn’t.”
“Oh, no,” Quinn said. “I wasn’t suggestingthat.But I thought you and Samantha—”
“What, us? No. She’s quite good fun, that’s all. Or—if you’re interested in—”
What? He thought she wanted a threesome with him and Samantha? How had she managed to go there? She’d seriously underestimated the power of sexy clothes. “Huh,” she decided on. “Samantha said you two were … a bit more than that.” She had a feeling “coy” was called for here. She wasn’t sure how you did “coy.” Possibly a sidelong look and a little smile. He could just think she had a squint, of course.
“Making more of it than it is,” he said. “Casual, that’s what we are.”
“Oh. Friends with benefits. I’ve heard of that. Does it work?”
He did a little more manspreading and gave her what could only be described as a meaningful look. “It can do, yeah. With the right partner, so it’s worth it. Especially good when you’re just out of a relationship.”
“I’m kind of relieved to know, though,” Quinn said, “that Abby didn’t seem to be cheating on Beckett. I shouldn’t be, because it’s all so … so problematic, but I have a soft heart, I guess.”
“That’s a good quality,” Victor said. “In a woman.”
“So she wasn’t drinking,” Quinn said. “Did she seem anxious to you? That’s the other thing I wanted to know. Or … or drugged? I guess she was taking Xanax. They think that may be why she drove into the river. Or even that she …” She lowered her voice. “Meant to. So did she seem like that? Depressed? I guess it’s too much to hope that she confided in you that she didn’t trust her husband.”
He looked even more alert. “Xanax? Really? No, I didn’t see that. No. And depressed? No. Last thing from it, I’d have said. A serious person, nobody I’d have chatted up in the normal way of things. Self-possessed, you could say. She had a sort of … Madonna quality, if the Madonna’d been a scientist.” He smiled, for once looking self-deprecating. “I sound a bit besotted myself. Trust me, it wasn’t that. She was an unusual person. Unusual sister for Samantha, too.”
“Really.” Quinn did her best to look fascinated. It wasn’t easy on this little sleep. She pretended to sip her wine and didn’t actually do it, because even the few sips she’d taken had gone straight to her head. “How so? I don’t know Samantha very well.”
“Girl’s a bit of a mess,” Victor said.
“Really?” Quinn didn’t have to pretend to be interested. “I thought she was an air-traffic controller.”
“Oh, she’s bright enough,” Victor said. “Capable, I’m sure. Bit moody, though.”
“Well, after her sister died, I’m sure,” Quinn said.
“No, before that, too. Demanding. Not that that’s—” He broke off. “But why are we talking about Samantha? Let’s talk about you. If you’re not suggesting somethingwithSamantha, that is. If that’s it, I’m keen.”
Keen? He waskeen?“I just wanted to know one other thing first,” Quinn said. “Once I get my teeth in something, it’s hard to let it go, you know? I just want to … keep going.”
“Too right I know.” Oh. Whoops.
“So,” she continued in desperation, “if it wasn’t you, was there somebody else Abby flirted with? Talked to?”
He frowned in concentration. “Not flirted, no,” he said at last. “It’s yonks ago, but I’d probably have noticed that. I don’t think she talked to men much that night. Chatted to the women, more like. Really, I got the impression she was there for Samantha. Making an appearance for her birthday. Being the big sister. Samantha didn’t lovethat,but she invited her all the same, didn’t she? Complicated relationship.”
“Mm,” Quinn said. “That’s interesting. When did Abby leave the party? What time? Was it still going strong, or …”
“The first time?” He frowned. “Early-ish. Eleven, maybe. Why?”
Quinn’s heart had started to beat harder. The call from the person who’d seen the car go into the river had come at 12:10. So shehadgone to see somebody else. Somebody who could’ve been in the car with her.
Oh. Wait. “What do you mean, the first time?”
“I’d have thought Samantha would’ve told you. Yeah, she came back.”
“Are you sure? When?”
