Page 73 of Our Daughter's Bones

“I still do.”

“Quinn!” Nathaniel warned him.

“She’s a bitch,” he sneered. “The lengths she would go to just to keep Erica for herself was insane. She was obsessed with her. Throughout our relationship, dealing with Abby was another job. Always making sure that Abby was invited to the parties, coming up with ascheduleto divide Erica’s time between us.”

“Are you glad that Abby’s gone?”

Quinn shrugged. “Don’t you see? I don’t care about anything anymore.”

She showed him the torn picture she’d discovered in Abby’s locker. His unsteady fingers stroked Erica’s face. The corners of his lips tugged upward. His eyes softened. Briefly, he splintered open in front of them.

Quinn traced the jagged edges of the picture. “Abbydid this.”

“Why?”

His voice was clipped. “I guess she finally got Erica all to herself.”

“Did you hurt Abby?” Nick asked.

“Excuse me?” Nathaniel said.

“No,” Quinn answered, anyway.

Mackenzie interjected. “What about the boy you beat up at Erica’s funeral?”

Nathaniel turned to Quinn. “What did you do now? Is he pressing charges?”

“He’s not, Dad. He was just being a shithead.”

“What happened?”

His lips flattened. “Max Grimes—that’s his name. He was upset because of Abby. He came up to me and started telling me how shitty I was to her and Erica. I lost it.”

“He said that you didn’t deserve her.” Mackenzie leaned forward. “Who was he talking about? Erica or Abby?”

Nathaniel stopped fiddling with his cufflinks and straightened his jacket. “I think this interview is over. We won’t say another word without our attorney present––”

“It’s okay, Dad.” Quinn cracked his neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re tired, Quinn. You have early practice tomorrow.”

“Abby tried to get close to me after Erica went missing. I didn’t like her, but I was still dealing with it all. I knew that the only person who truly loved Erica other than me was Abby. I talked to her a couple of times at school. I figured it helped me too. To talk to someone who actually gave a shit. But then once, after practice, she snuck into the locker room. I told her to go away, but she was a mess. She was crying. I tried to comfort her… and she kissed me.” He paused and blinked vehemently. “I gave in. For a few seconds. Suddenly, there was a sound. Through the window, I saw Max walking away. It was a mistake. I ignored her after that, and eventually she got the message.”

“When did this happen?”

“Just before the winter break last year.”

“Within the first six months of Erica going missing,” Mackenzie murmured.

“It was just one kiss. It meant nothing.”

“I had one more question,” Mackenzie went on, her voice level. “Does the number ‘916’ mean anything to you?”

Nathaniel’s face was stoic. “What’s that supposed to mean?”