Hearts on the Line

by Margaret Daley

  “And once you’re back at work with no restrictions you’ll be happy?”

  “Of course. I’m the type of person who must keep busy. Didn’t you get that point this week when I bothered you every two minutes when I wasn’t sleeping?”

  His mouth spread into a grin. “I did stumble over you a couple of times while trying to work.”

  “See,” she said in a teasing voice.

  “I know what you mean about keeping busy. It has saved me on a number of occasions.”

  “After Maggie’s death?” Becca knew she was treading into dangerous territory that they had avoided all week, but she was never one to run from a problem. She’d discovered hiding from a problem didn’t make it go away.

  “Yes.” Tension vibrated down his length, charging the air.

  Suddenly the space between them seemed to grow, when in actuality neither moved. “I’m very good at my job. I don’t take unnecessary risks and I’ve been trained well.”

  “So was Maggie.”

  “Life is a risk, Quinn. I could go to the grocery store for a carton of milk and be in a fatal accident. Anyone could, including you.”

  “So you didn’t worry about me one bit while Escalante was running around town slashing my tires, following us?”

  “Well, yes. I care about you. I worry about people I care about.”

  His intense gaze sought hers, drilling into her. “Then you know how I feel.” He strode toward the back door. “I’ll pick you up at seven tonight for the rehearsal dinner.”

  As he shut the door, Becca couldn’t shake the feeling he was shutting her out of his life bit by bit. Her attempt to reassure him about her job hadn’t been successful, and she wasn’t sure she ever would be because police work was more dangerous than an ordinary job.

  The top two floors of the mayor’s mansion, a beautiful bricked structure that used to be the jail, housed the family while the bottom ones were offices for the city government. Becca had never been up to the mayor’s residence even though Sam was her partner and his father lived here. She took in the beautifully designed foyer with the living room and large dining room off it. The gleaming chandelier reflecting off the marble floor lit the entry as if the sun shone. The rich dark wood, polished to a high sheen, accentuated the walls, painted a deep burgundy.

  She pulled her black lace shawl tighter about her, suddenly feeling as though she had stepped into another world, one of money and power. Seeing all the women in beautiful after-five dresses, she was glad that Jessica had insisted she take her shopping for something to wear. Nothing in her dull wardrobe, geared toward work, would have been appropriate.

  But still, she thought, glancing down at her black silk dress that fell to just below her knees and hugged her curves, she wasn’t used to wearing something like this. Her mother’s strand of pearls hung around her neck, the only color to her attire.

  She turned toward Quinn, who came up behind her, her hair, newly cut, brushing her shoulders. She resisted the urge to suck in a deep breath at the sight of him in a tuxedo. It fit so well it couldn’t be a rental, which emphasized he lived in a different world than she. He moved with the ease of a man used to wearing a tuxedo to functions. Whereas her three-inch high heels that Jessica had insisted were perfect for her dress were as alien to her as being comfortable sitting around doing nothing all day.

  “How big is the wedding party?” she asked when she caught sight of the crowd gathered in the huge living room obviously constructed with the idea that the mayor would be hosting large parties.

  “There are six groomsmen and bridesmaids as well as a best man. Not to mention Amy is the flower girl and Bobby Fletcher is the ring bearer. Colleen declared she was only going to get married once so she intended to do it right.” Quinn craned his neck to look into the room. “The whole Vance and Montgomery families are here, including the children.”

  “Like at the barbecue?”

  “Worse. Not everyone was there. I see Michael Vance with his fiancée, Layla Dixon. I see Alessandro’s brother, Tomas, too.” He put his hand at the small of her back. “Ready? It looks like the party is in full swing.”

  Becca inhaled deeply at the feel of his fingers on her. Sliding him a sheepish look, she said, “Sorry. I’m not used to dressing up, and with my shoulder still giving me some problems, I didn’t realize how long it would take me to get ready.”

  “No complaint from me. I avoid these fancy kinds of affairs if I can.”

  “You do? You look so natural in a tux.”

  “I haven’t been very successful in avoiding these kinds of affairs. Since my uncle was mayor before Max, I was expected to go to a lot of galas.”

  “There you two are. We were wondering where you were,” Max said, limping toward them with a welcoming grin on his face. “We started without you. We have much to celebrate tonight.”

  “So your nephew hasn’t backed out at the last minute,” Quinn said.

  Max laughed. “My wife wouldn’t allow it. No, Alessandro is in there, stuck to Colleen’s side. You need to meet his little daughter, Mia. Adorable. Now that Escalante is gone, the threat is, too, so they felt it was safe for her to come to the wedding. She is going to stand up there with them.”

  Wearing a teal blue dress of silk with brocaded flowers and sequins that fell in soft waves to midcalf, Colleen joined them in the foyer. “I thought you’d skipped out on this shindig, cousin.”

  Quinn checked his watch. “I was fifteen minutes late, and you all were ready to send out the posse?”

  “No, we just couldn’t start without Becca. She and Sam are the reason we don’t have to lock down the church tomorrow like Fort Knox.” Colleen embraced Becca. “I’m so glad my cousin has such good taste. Welcome and thank you.”

  “I guess then there are no hard feelings about being questioned in connection to Neil O’Brien’s murder.”

  “I knew I hadn’t done it. It was just a matter of time before you and Sam figured it out.”

  “We knew, but we had to follow the leads.”

  Alessandro approached, holding the hand of a little girl with brown hair and eyes like his. Becca knew this was his daughter, Mia, because she looked so much like her father. “Good. Everyone is here now. Quinn, Becca, I want you to meet Mia.”

  When Mia smiled up at her, staying close to her father, Becca’s heart responded. She thought of her sister, Caitlin, at that age and could remember how adorable she had been. For a few seconds a yearning took hold of Becca before she quickly dismissed it. She’d spent half of her life raising her brother and sister.

  “Is this the first time you’ve been in the United States?” Becca asked the child.

  The little girl nodded, then tugged on her father’s coat. Alessandro bent down, and she whispered something in his ear.

  Straightening, he grasped his daughter’s hand. “Excuse us. We need to find the little girls’ room.”

  “Are you all going to stay out here or come in and join the rest of us?” Lidia Vance asked from the entryway of the living room.

  Max smiled at his wife. “We’re coming.” Waving everyone into the room, he took up the rear. “She takes her role as hostess very seriously.”

  The petite Italian woman, elegantly attired in a cream-colored dress that complemented her olive skin and dark eyes, looked pointedly at her husband. “One of us has to.”

  Inside the room Michael, accompanied by Layla, came up to Becca. “I think I’m the only one in the family who hasn’t said thank you, Becca.”

  “Okay, but if you all keep doing that, I’m gonna get a swelled head. It was my job to find the person responsible for all these murders.”

  Michael combed his fingers through his thick brown hair. “Do you think Escalante had something to do with the disappearance of my two foremen?”

  “With all that’s happened, yes. Dahlia’s diary mentioned that it had been necessary for both of your foremen to be taken out of the picture. Those were her words.”

  Anger de
scended over Michael’s features. “I kept hoping that wasn’t the case. I feel responsible. If they weren’t working for me, maybe—”

  Layla rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “Michael, you didn’t know about Escalante. No one knew he was alive for months. Who would have thought he would do what he did?”

  “Revenge is a powerful emotion.” Michael shook his head.

  “I have to agree, and Escalante had a lot of revenge in him,” Quinn said.

  Becca caught sight of the diamond ring on Layla’s left finger. “I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you two on your engagement. When’s the big day?”

  “We’ve been discussing it. Colleen’s wedding is making me realize I don’t want to wait too long.” Michael peered down at Layla, love in his expression.

  Becca’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted Quinn to look at her like that. Instead he was distant. Not cold, but not his usual warm self. They needed to talk. She wasn’t ready to walk away.

  “And now that things will be returning to normal, we can have discussions on exactly when we’ll get married,” Layla said, flipping her long hair behind her shoulder, her beautiful silver bracelets sparkling in the light.

  Yes, normal. Becca didn’t feel her life was normal at the moment. Even with the end to the rash of murders and their investigations, everything around her was torn apart like her kitchen had been.

  Frank Montgomery stood at one of the tables set up for dinner and raised his sparkling cider for a toast. “I haven’t seen my daughter this happy—ever. To you, Alessandro, for bringing that smile to her. You are welcomed with open arms into the Montgomery family.”

  His uncle’s salute surprised Quinn. A powerfully built man, stocky and muscular, he rarely expressed his sentiments. His words spurred his own desires for a family, to have a woman welcomed into the Montgomery fold. He slanted a look toward Becca seated next to him. He’d thought for a brief time she might be that woman. But how could she be, when every time she left for work he would worry? One day the worry would become too much, eroding their relationship. He wouldn’t do that to Becca or himself.

  Quinn lifted his glass and touched Becca’s to his right, then Pastor Gabriel’s eight-year-old daughter, Hannah Carter’s, to his left. Then he made his own toast. “To family. May you two have many babies.” He knew his cousin wanted children as much as he did.

  Hannah giggled, the pink beads in her hair bouncing. “Mr. Quinn, you’re sweet.”

  “Not half as sweet as you are, Miss Hannah.”

  “I’m Sarah.” She giggled some more, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “I know your mother’s trick. Pink beads for Hannah and purple for Sarah. You have to wake up pretty early to fool me.”

  The little girl’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “We traded.”

  Quinn looked toward Susan Dawson, the twins’ mother.

  She shook her head. “She’s pulling your leg, Quinn. That’s Hannah. I caught them and made them change back before coming.”

  Becca followed the exchange that Quinn carried on with Hannah for the next few minutes and her throat constricted. Everywhere she turned she was struck with the fact Quinn was great with children and wanted a house full of them. When she pictured her future, she didn’t see kids in it. She’d been mother and father to Caitlin and Todd for so long, she wanted to know who Becca Hilliard was without children around. She had just begun to get a sense of that woman.

  Becca averted her gaze from Quinn. It hurt too much to look at him and see what would never be. She shifted her attention to Reverend Gabriel Dawson, who was sitting on the other side of her at the table. She’d found her father’s Bible and had started reading it again this past week. It had sparked memories of the times she had spent with her father listening to him read a part of it to her, his arm around her. Feelings of security and peace had enveloped her. She wanted that back.

  “Pastor Gabriel, I’d like to meet with you next week. Is that possible?”

  “Is there a problem?” the minister of the Good Shepherd Christian Church asked, his eyes kind.

  “It’s been a while—well, years since I’ve attended church regularly. I’ve been wrestling with why I left in the first place.”

  “Say no more, Becca. I’ll be glad to help you. I’m available tomorrow morning.”

  “But what about the wedding?”

  “It’s not until two. I see no reason to put off the discussion until sometime next week. Why don’t you come to my office at nine?”

  “Fine. I’d heard rumors you were a former Marine, and I believe they’re true. You’re definitely a take-charge man.”

  “Yes, to both.”

  “Did I hear the word ‘rumor’?” Quinn asked, taking the last bite of his Italian cheesecake. “Are you two discussing my mother?”

  “Never,” Pastor Gabriel said, his gaze twinkling. “Your mother is a treasure who keeps me informed of what’s going on.”

  “Such a nice way to put it.” Quinn tipped back his glass and finished his cider.

  The reverend responded to his teasing with, “She’s involved in so many things at the church that I’m not sure how it would function without her.”

  “The operative word is involved. My mother never does anything halfway.”

  “Ah, that definitely describes Fiona,” Sam interjected. “Did you know that she talked Mercedes Cortez into running a nursery at the church tomorrow during the wedding so that the children could attend the reception? She told my mother that this was a family affair and the kids need to be there to enjoying the celebration.”

  “Michael’s housekeeper’s daughter?” Quinn asked.

  “Mercedes is an elementary-school teacher. She said she would gladly do it. Now I don’t have to worry about Dario and Isabella during the wedding ceremony.” Jessica passed a napkin to her older daughter to wipe her face.

  “By herself?” Becca scanned all the tables filled with adults and many children.

  “She has a friend who is going to help. Besides, it’s only the youngest ones,” Jessica answered.

  “Yeah, Sarah and Hannah wouldn’t miss this wedding. It’s all they’ve been talking about for days.”

  “I’m the flower girl,” Jessica’s five-year-old daughter, Amy, piped in. “I get to throw flowers.”

  “Rose petals, honey.” Sam took his napkin and cleaned off the smear on Amy’s face that she hadn’t touched when wiping it.

  Becca relaxed back in her chair, sated with a delicious meal of shrimp and steak, listening to the conversation flowing around her at the table. The children were right there in the middle of the whole exchange, offering their opinions and comments. The warmth that settled in the pit of her stomach spread outward. She missed this with her siblings.

  As Quinn escorted Becca to her front porch, a light illuminating it in softness, she thought of the long, silent ride from Colleen’s rehearsal dinner. Several times she had tried to start a conversation and couldn’t with Quinn’s one-word answers. She’d given up.

  In her usual tactic of confronting a problem head-on, Becca turned on the top step and said, “Please come in. I think we need to talk.”

  Quinn paused several stairs below her, his face concealed by the night. “I agree. But let’s talk out here on the porch.”

  What was he afraid of? That she’d become hysterical and cause a scene if they were inside where it was more private?

  As if he’d read her mind, he added, “It’s a beautiful night.”

  She sank onto the love seat with enough room for Quinn to sit next to her. He remained standing, leaning back against the railing near her, his hands gripping the wood, his legs crossed at the ankles. In that moment he looked like a rich millionaire in a whole different league than she. That and the fact he didn’t take a seat next to her spoke loud and clear the end of the evening wouldn’t go well.

  “Talk to me about my shooting. Ever since it happened, you’ve been pulling away.” As she spoke, her heart slowed
to a throbbing ache, as though she knew what he would say and was preparing herself.

  “I brought Escalante into your life.”

  “What? I’m a homicide detective. Escalante killed people in my town. He brought himself into my life.”

  “I think he targeted you at the siege because he knew we were dating.”

  “That’s possible, but he’s dead. He won’t be targeting me any longer.”

  Quinn dropped his head, his gaze boring into the floor. “Maggie and I argued right before she was called to defuse the bomb that killed her. I’m responsible for her not being as careful as she normally was.”

  His words, spoken so quietly, electrified the air between them, snatching Becca’s response.

  “I can’t bear any more responsibility.”

  She wanted to take him into her embrace and remove the guilt that riddled him. She couldn’t. Only he could. “What did you two argue about?”

  “Her job. I wanted her to resign from the bomb squad. She wasn’t ready. She enjoyed the challenge. Wanted to do it for at least a few more years.”

  “Do you trust God?”

  Quinn’s eyes widened, then he blinked several times. “Of course. What’s that got to do with this?”

  “Then put your trust in God to know what’s best. Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “There are no buts. What should work for me should work for you, too.”

  Shaking his head, he pushed himself off the railing, nothing nonchalant about his stance. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Oh, so there are two different standards for us?”

  “No,” he said harshly.

  “I know emotions aren’t simple and that’s what we’re talking about here. I think we should back off from each other. I am who I am. Being a police officer is part of me. That isn’t going to change in the near future.” She rose from the love seat, weariness clinging to her like sweat in a hundred percent humidity. “But Quinn, you might talk to someone about your guilt over Maggie’s death. Things will happen that you won’t have control over. Maggie’s accident was one of those incidents.”