Free No Safe Place (Joe Hunter Thrillers Book 11) by Matt Hilton Page A

he told me about.’
    I didn’t bother agreeing.
    ‘And you’re Parker Quinn,’ I said, recalling now the full name of Clayton’s business partner. Quinn wasn’t actually a blood uncle to Cole, but I guessed he’d be the next best thing. I was in an awkward position, because according to the investigating detectives, this could be the man behind the anonymous email campaign pointing the accusatory finger at Clayton. But he might not be. I studied him, trying to imagine him clambering over the wall in the dark, moonlit, but not presenting his face to my scrutiny. He was alike the man I’d chased, but how could I be positive?
    ‘How’d you get in past the gate?’ I asked.
    Quinn scowled at me, took a quick glance at Cole for support, then regained his scowl for me. ‘I have the code for the gate. Jesus, man, how’d you think I got in, rammed my way through?’
    I made a mental note to have the security code changed once Clayton returned home. I should have thought about it sooner, considering I’d been with Bryony when she had punched in the four-digit code to allow us access on my first arrival. All other visitors, Rink among them, had to press a buzzer and announce himself over an intercom, and Clayton had allowed entry, remotely opening the gate from a control panel in the house. Access to the property was an issue for security, but it also begged questions about the home invasion. The robbers had carted away some large electronic devices, and I doubted they’d carried them all the way up the drive to where they’d left their vehicles. They must have brought them nearer to the house. Had one of the robbers known the access code, or was there something I was missing? I supposed that they could have opened the gate from the control panel once inside the house, and accomplices had then driven closer, but it was a push. If Clayton were behind his wife’s murder, he’d have told the crew the code to get in, but then if he were that organised he’d have made sure they damaged the gate to cover the trail back to him. As far as I knew there’d been no damage reported to the gate. As with the taking of Ella’s wedding ring, the manner of the opening of the gate was an anomaly to be considered further, points to be talked over with Bryony next time I saw her.
    ‘So why are you here?’ I prompted Quinn.
    ‘I told you already,’ he snapped.
    ‘No you didn’t, you asked where Andrew was.’
    ‘Well isn’t it obvious? I want to see him.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘It’s…private.’ Quinn stared past me and I knew he was eyeing the boy. I watched him smile sheepishly at Cole, reassuring him he was OK. I also caught the subtle undertone of his words. He didn’t want Cole to hear. I turned to Cole, and saw that he’d retreated to the bottom of the stairs. He held the upright of the bannister as if in need of a crutch.
    ‘Cole. It was just a bit of a misunderstanding between your Uncle Parker and me. Everything’s fine now, so will you be a good boy and go upstairs a few minutes?’
    Our shared connection had been tenuous to begin with, and now severely tested, but Quinn also nodded and pointed his chin upwards, silently asking the boy to do as he was asked. Cole pouted slightly, but he turned and went up the stairs, his treads heavier than when he’d pelted down. I closed the door, and pressed Quinn to go to the kitchen, where there was less likelihood we’d be overheard.
    When he’d settled his lower back against the kitchen counter, I said, ‘We got off on the wrong foot back there.’
    It wasn’t much of an apology, but I didn’t think he deserved one. What the hell had he been thinking reaching into his jacket like that when confronted by a stranger?
    He shrugged. ‘Maybe I should’ve announced myself, but I’ve never had to before, normally I just come on up to the house…’
    ‘Things aren’t normal just now,’ I reminded him.
    ‘No. No they’re not.’ I watched sadness follow his words,