Page 78 of No Rules
“No problem. Justice will be served, and any day that happens is a good day in my book.”
They ended the call, and as soon as he’d put the phone down, Alex jumped into his arms. Ryan barely had time to brace himself, then wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “We did it, baby boy.”
“I can’t believe we solved the case,” Alex whispered into his ear. “What a rush.”
Ryan leaned back and met his eyes. “You know what’s even better?”
“That we get to tell Marilyn?”
“That we get to tell Marilyn. Come on, let’s go.”
“Should we call her?”
“Nah, let’s surprise her with the good news.”
As they stepped outside, flurries of dreamy snowflakes drifted down. “I think it’s pretty,” Alex said.
Ryan looked around. The snow wouldn’t stay, as the ground wasn’t cold enough yet, but Alex was right. It was kinda pretty, especially on the trees. “Before you know it, we’ll have a winter wonderland.”
Alex looked at him funny, then got into the car, heading for Marilyn’s farm. They chatted on the way over, discussing all kinds of things ranging from football—Ryan was a Texans fan while Alex cheered for the Patriots, for fuck’s sake, something Ryan intended to correct—to Alaska in the winter, Texas longhorns, and more. Ryan was always surprised by how easy conversations with Alex were. The kid had broad interests and an insatiable curiosity, always asking questions. Ryan didn’t mind answering, not even when Alex asked about his experiences as a detective in Austin. Funnily enough, the memories didn’t hurt as bad as they used to.
“I think this news will be bittersweet for Marilyn,” Alex said when Ryan was slowly navigating the winding country roads leading to Marilyn’s place. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved to find out she’s no longer a suspect, but it’s gotta be hard finding out someone hates you so much they’d do something this awful.”
“From experience, I can tell you that victims always appreciate the closure it brings when the perp is caught. It doesn’t fix anything or take away the pain of their loss, but it does bring closure, and without it, people often can’t move on.”
“Did they catch the guy who killed Quinton?”
Ryan swallowed. He loved how easily Alex mentioned Quinton’s name, unlike most people who knew what had happened. They all walked on eggshells, and maybe with reason. Ryan had blown up for a long time whenever someone had brought his boyfriend up, but Alex seemed fearless. And it felt good to hear Quinton’s name mentioned, to no longer erase him from Ryan’s life like he’d done himself.
“Yeah, we did. He was sentenced to life in prison.”
Alex put his hand on Ryan’s thigh. “That doesn’t bring Quinton back.”
“No, but justice was served, and it matters. I don’t take pleasure in putting people away, but with him, I didn’t have a moment of doubt or concern. He deserved every day he got.” Ryan took a calming breath. “And thank you for asking. That, too, matters.”
He turned onto the narrow road leading to Marilyn’s house. As soon as they rounded the corner, majestic oaks greeted them, their bare branches like skeletons against the gray sky. The horses had been brought inside from the icy green fields dotted with white. Thoroughbreds were not built for the cold winters here, though Marilyn had said they went outside sometimes in the winter but were covered with warm blankets.
In the distance, the elegant white farmhouse stood proud, its wraparound porch adorned with rocking chairs that swayed in the wind. Marilyn’s red pickup truck was parked next to the house, and Ryan recognized the dark-blue truck as Sam’s. But who did the white Silverado belong to?
He took his foot off the gas. Something felt off, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.
“Whose truck is that?”
“The white one? No idea. Maybe one of Marilyn’s employees?”
“They wouldn’t park next to the house. She has an extra lot behind the stalls.”
“She could have friends over.”
Ryan slowed down even more. “The front door is ajar. Something’s wrong.”
“That is weird, I agree.”
He parked the truck alongside the road. “Let’s check it out.”
They both got out of the truck, guns drawn. “If we come from this way, we can’t be seen from the house.” Ryan pointed at the stalls. It would take them longer to get there, but he wasn’t risking getting spotted. They ran to the stalls, their footsteps silent on the snowy grass, then took cover behind the building.