Page 13 of Salem’s Fall (Dark Seasons Thriller #3)

I take a deep breath, letting the sweetness of the moment seep in. Savoring it. But then something starts to shift deep down in my gut—resolve. I glance back up at Quinn, knowing he’ll probably be annoyed that I can’t just enjoy this time together and unwind, but I can’t stop myself.

“I think I found something important in Mark’s case files,” I say, meeting his eyes.

“He was researching the symbols found at the murder scene. Apparently, they’re connected to something called the Order of the Veil.

Seems like it’s some rumored cult or shadow organization.

” My voice grows firmer as I speak, more confident.

“According to his notes, there may be ties to a series of ritual murders in Salem’s Fall—possibly dating back to the witch trials in the 1600s. It’s vague, but definitely disturbing.”

“Yes, I’m aware of Mark’s research,” he says. “He was on his way to Salem’s Fall yesterday when he was killed. He was planning to meet with an occult expert there to discuss his findings.”

I stare at him, stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

We’re supposed to be a team, and teams are supposed to share everything. Does Quinn still not trust me? Even after all the hard work I’ve already put into this case?

It hurts, and not just because I feel excluded, but because of how much I care about Quinn and his approval. It matters to me probably more than it should.

“I was planning to. Mark was going to share with the whole team once he returned from the witness interview in Salem’s Fall. And you were busy with the security tapes, remember?” He grins, a pleased look of approval on his face. “And doing a stellar job, by the way.”

“They both had technical malfunctions. The tapes were worthless!”

“Not true,” he says, shaking his head. “You did good work getting them so fast, and at least the Gala tapes give us a starting point on alibi. Even if we don’t have a perfect timeline, the prosecution’s copy will be blurred like ours is.

They can’t use the tapes as hard evidence against Blackhollow. ”

“Okay, well, who’s going now?”

He puts down his espresso, confused. “Who’s going where?”

“To Salem’s Fall,” I say, a bit impatiently. “Now that Mark is… um… well… someone still needs to go, right?”

He shakes his head. “After what happened to Mark, the firm has decided against it,” he says. “It was a long shot anyway, and we have more important work to do here. ”

“You’re just going to ignore a lead?”

“Salem’s Fall is a dead end,” Quinn says. “We have to focus on building Blackhollow’s legal defense here, in Boston, not chasing after crazy conspiracy theories. If we start looking desperate, it could ruin the firm’s reputation.”

“Mark didn’t think it was desperate,” I say, feeling a surge of alarm rising in my chest. I don’t know why, but I feel certain blowing off Salem’s Fall is a mistake. “He’s done a lot of research. It’s at least worth checking out.”

I look down at my coffee, mentally preparing myself because I know I need to tell Quinn about the threatening email from last night.

It’s important—critical, even—and not just to our case, but to Mark and his family as well.

They deserve to know the truth about his death, that it was something more than just a tragic accident.

But the second Quinn learns about the email, everything will change.

If Quinn knows, he’s likely to pull me from the case.

For my own protection, of course. It’s a logical step for him to take, especially since I know how much he cares about me.

I can’t allow that to happen. I need to see this case through. I’m too invested now.

“Quinn, I—I need to tell you something,” I say, my voice trembling. “I don’t think Mark’s death was an accident.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After your call last night, I got an email. Someone sent me a photo of Mark’s body; they were there, taking pictures.

” I shiver, disgust running through me. “It was awful , Quinn. Whoever killed Mark could be coming for me next. This isn’t just about Damien.

We have to find out who’s behind this before someone else is hurt. ”

“What?” Quinn blanches, his expression shifting from shock to something harder. “Forward me the email.” His voice is sharp now, urgent. “Right now.”

I pull out my phone, hitting send .

Quinn reaches across the table, his grip firm around my wrist. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks, fingers tightening, his frustration bleeding through.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

A tiny white lie. The truth is, I wasn’t nearly as concerned with Quinn’s feelings as I was about jeopardizing my place on the trial team.

Quinn exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Damn it, James. It’s my job to protect you,” he says, his voice rough. “I can’t do that if you keep me in the dark.”

“With all due respect, you’re my partner—your job isn’t to protect me, it’s to work alongside me,” I say. “Come on, Quinn. We both know I have to go to Salem’s Fall.”

“It’s not just me or the firm.” His gaze flickers with an emotion I can’t quite place. Concern? Fear? Maybe even a hint of guilt. “The client doesn’t want anyone else going either. He won’t authorize any travel expenses.”

My skin warms. I think I know what’s going on. Damien obviously approved of travel when it involved Mark going to investigate. For whatever reason, he clearly doesn’t want me going to Salem’s Fall.

These damn men. Just who the hell do they think they are?

“Since when does Damien Blackhollow get to dictate how we conduct our defense?” I push my coffee and baked goods away with an annoyed shove.

“It’s our responsibility to advocate for our client, and that includes following every lead, no matter how strange.

Damien hired us because we’re the best. He needs to let us do our damn job,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “And, frankly, if he doesn’t like the way we do it, he should find another firm. ”

There’s a long beat of silence as Quinn stares at me with a mix of both annoyance and admiration on his face.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he asks. “I never would’ve dreamed of talking to a senior partner like this.”

I smile a bit sheepishly. “But that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? You’d hate having a ‘yes man’ on your team.”

Affection flashes in his eyes, and I know I’m right. I am a handful, but I get the job done. Well, except for that terrible screwup on my last case, but that was a one-time thing, and I’m determined to make up for it.

“Okay, fine.” Quinn exhales, a resigned look settling over his face. “You can go to Salem’s Fall, but this is a quick trip. You find what you can and come back immediately,” he says. “I’ll deal with Blackhollow.”

I jump up eagerly. Even though it’s not exactly appropriate, and I’m not a hugger, I throw my arms around him.

“Thanks, Quinn! I won’t let you down!”

He’s so close, I can feel the heat between our bodies, the air between us charged with something unspoken. Quinn’s eyes meet mine, holding me there, and for a moment, I see it—the concern for me, the protective instinct he’s trying to disguise as professional caution.

My breath catches as he leans in further, just a fraction, his eyes dipping down to my lips before snapping back up again. Then, just as quickly, he pulls back, his jaw tightening. His voice drops lower, rougher.

“Be careful, James,” he says. “I mean it.”