lot of similarities between what happened here and what happened at Quinn’s office in Harvard.”
“Like what?”
“Like books being destroyed. A lot of random damage without there being anything that would make law enforcement look too closely. Enough destruction to garner some attention, but not send anyone into overdrive.”
Gavin handed Baby some photos of Quinn’s office at Harvard. An entire bookshelf had been dumped all over the floor, many of the books deliberately ripped apart—very similar to the scene inside her house. The way the furniture in the office had been trashed was also eerily similar.
“Gavin, are you saying that whoever vandalized her office in Boston came all the way here to vandalize her house?”
Gavin rubbed his forehead. “No. It doesn’t make sense that someone would follow her that far merely to do this. What I’m saying is...”
Gavin trailed off but Baby knew exactly what point he was trying to make.
“What you’re saying is that you think Quinn did this herself.”
Gavin shrugged. “Look, I know you like her, and I know—”
“This has nothing to do with liking her. Look at this place. Jesus, Gavin, look at the wall. Whoever did this didn’t spell ‘your’ correctly. Definitely not a Harvard professor.”
“Or...” Gavin countered, “maybe this person is very smart. Realizing that a misspelling like this would help suggest a certain caliber of culprit.”
Baby couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “There is no way Quinn did this.”
“I don’t want to jump to that conclusion either, but you need to know that’s what they accused her of in Cambridge.”
“Like hell they did.” There was no way.
Gavin’s face was sympathetic. “She had some sort of breakdown, Baby. She was accused of deliberately destroying school property. Not just her office. She “accidentally” lost an entire semester’s worth of grades for more than one hundred fifty students on her computer.”
“All of that could possibly be expl—”
“And then when she was confronted about stealing from the department’s petty funds–they caught her on video—she lost her temper and screamed at her ex-husband, one of the deans, to the point where two different people called security, and she had to be escorted from the building.”
Holy shit. He’d known she’d lost her job, but he couldn’t believe all of this. “No. There’s something we don’t know.”
“Why do you think she’s all the way out here? She couldn’t find an academic position anywhere else. Honestly, I’m surprised she got a job at TSC. And that one is only part-time which is why she’s waiting tables.”
Baby scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “This can’t be right.”
“Everything Gavin said is accurate.”
Baby spun around as he heard Quinn’s voice from the front door, “I got fired from Harvard and blacklisted academically. It’s why I’m here.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
They spent the entire day cleaning her house. Or more like salvaging what they could and dumping what they couldn’t.
Quinn had woken up that morning and found Baby’s note. How long had it been since someone had been willing to look out for her well-being to the point of doing something unpleasant so she could sleep?
If it hadn’t been for her brother Riley’s call—who asked how she was doing, which led to her subsequent breakdown and admission of what had happened—she wouldn’t have been here in her house to have heard Gavin’s theory that she was behind her own break-in. Riley had driven her over so she could see what Gavin had to say about the vandalism.
And boy, did he have something to say.
She was logical enough to know that his theory made sense. After what had happened at Harvard, she couldn’t blame anyone for concluding that she’d done the same thing here.
“I think you and I need to have a talk, sis,” Riley had said after they’d both heard the evidence Gavin put forth against her.
Baby hadn’t responded to Gavin or her. He hadn’t asked her if the accusations were true—maybe he was afraid to know the answer. Maybe he figured if she was guilty, she’d lie about her innocence anyway.
Instead, he turned to her and said, “We’re cleared to get this place cleaned up. Let’s do it.”
Riley and Gavin stayed to help. It wasn’t long before some of the other Linear Tactical guys and their significant others showed up.
Girl Riley was the last, but she came bearing paint and supplies. “I got Mrs. Mazille’s approval for this color. I hope it’s okay with you.”
Quinn nodded. Anything was better than looking at graffiti or the wallpaper.
By the time dinner rolled around, all signs of the break-in had been erased,