Quarry (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 8) by L.T. Ryan & Gregory Scott

Author:L.T. Ryan & Gregory Scott [Ryan, L.T. & Scott, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liquid Mind Media
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

“I don’t know.” Haeli slammed her laptop shut and stood in one motion. “I give up.”

In the darkened corner of the room, the glow of Blake’s screen still illuminated his face in a bluish hue. He was aware that Haeli was talking to him, but he was waiting to finish reading the paragraph before responding.

Takeout containers littered the small table, the remnants of a hastily eaten meal. It was only their third night, but to Blake, it felt like they had been living in that little crappy hotel room for a year.

Haeli bounced onto the bed, landing on her back. Her hair splayed across the comforter.

Blake leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. They had been at it for hours, combing through social media profiles, school records, and anything else they could find. But so far, nothing had jumped out at them, no clear connection between Emily and Hayden that might point them in the direction of their killer.

Worse, he had forgotten what Haeli had asked him. “What was that now?”

“Huh?“

“What were you saying?”

Haeli sat up. “I don’t remember. Did you find anything useful?”

“Nope.” Blake stood and then joined her on the bed. “If there is a connection between Emily and a kid named Hayden, I don’t see it. I don’t want to say it’s hopeless, but⁠—”

“Take a break. Clear your mind. We oughta take a moment for ourselves, anyway.” Haeli grinned.

“Oh, yeah?” Blake turned to face her. “And what did you have in mind?”

Haeli leaned in so her lips were only millimeters from his. “Meditation, maybe?”

Blake held steady, trying not to smile. “Meditation, huh?”

A sudden knock at the door startled them both. Blake hopped off the bed and grabbed his pistol from the top of the nightstand. He glanced at Haeli, who came back at him with nothing more than a shrug.

They weren't expecting anyone, and unexpected visitors were rarely a good thing.

He moved towards the door, his footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. He peered through the peephole, then let out a sigh of relief.

It was Khat, disheveled and agitated. His head distorted in the fisheye lens.

Blake shoved the pistol in the back of his waistband and opened the door. Khat entered, and with him the strong odor of cheap whiskey.

“What's going on?" Haeli asked. “Thought you turned in for the night.”

Khat pushed past Blake and headed for the TV. "Turn on the news," he said, his words carrying a slight slur. He grabbed the remote and began pushing buttons. When it didn’t work, he tossed the remote onto the bed next to Haeli. "Channel eight."

She flipped it on with none of the same difficulty, then shot Blake a concerned look. They all turned their attention to the screen.

A reporter stood in front of a familiar scene—one they’d seen many times in different iterations. Flashing lights, yellow tape, and a crowd of onlookers.

"—reporting live from the scene of what appears to be another homicide in the small town of Hallowell. Details are still emerging, but sources say that the victim may be a teenage male.

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