by Bonnie Vanak
Mouth tight, eyes glittering with focus. Something was dreadfully wrong.
“Thank God you’re okay,” he muttered. “Quinn, was your client here?”
“He just left. What’s wrong?”
“Your client wasn’t here for ordering food. He’s the unsub who killed Tia.” West gripped her arms. “Quinn, tell me, where did he spend his time? Was he in the kitchen?”
Mouth wobbling, she tried to form words.
“Quinn! Tell me!”
“Yes. He...he wanted to see my operation.”
“Get back,” West ordered tersely. “Rex, find.”
“Find what?” she asked. Then it dawned on her. “Oh my God. We have to get out of here.”
“No. I need to find that explosive device. No telling how powerful it is. Could take down this building and the one next to it.” West glared at her. “I told you to get out!”
“This is my store. I’m not leaving you.”
Nose down, tail up, Rex sniffed around the kitchen. She couldn’t hang back while West and Rex placed themselves in danger. In the doorway, Quinn watched, clutching the chef’s knife like a life preserver. Heart racing, she couldn’t believe it.
A bomb in her kitchen?
The canine paced the kitchen, going back and forth, his nose to the floor. How could Rex discern anything with all the smells? Chili, tomatoes, onions. Cumin.
But she knew this was what West had trained him to do.
Pausing for a beat, Rex loped over to the steel table where Quinn had set down the last order. Tail beating the air, Rex sat.
He’d locked onto the scent of something.
“Good boy, Rex,” West said, his voice pitched higher.
West crouched down and removed a box the size of a cell phone from under the steel table. A light blinked.
He raced outside, banging open the back door. “Rex, stay! You, too, Quinn!”
West slammed the heavy door shut.
The hell with that. Clutching the knife, she ran outside, closing the door as he raced to the empty field behind her building, throwing the object.
Puffs of gray smoke spun out and the ear-shattering bang jolted her off her feet, making her drop the knife. A piercing scream punctuated the blast. Screaming, screaming, it was her.
With a sickening thud, West fell downward. Clouds of smoke covered him. She couldn’t see. Where was he?
Quinn started for him.
Someone darted toward her, lips pulled back in a fierce snarl, his eyes wild. Santo Nestor. Quinn started to run when he body-slammed her against the wall.
Quinn fumbled for the Taser on her belt. Panic blossomed, but she pushed it down. She thrust the Taser at Nestor, momentarily stunning him. But the shock was too weak. She’d forgotten to fully charge it.
From behind the door, Rex howled and scratched, desperate to get to West.
If she could let the dog out, he’d be a weapon. She jumped to her feet, the door within reach. Almost there...
Nestor grabbed her around the waist and threw her hard. Her head made contact with the hard pavement and she almost blacked out. She touched her brow and her fingertips came away red.
Red. Blood.
Tia, wearing red. Business suit. Shouting on the phone the day before the bomb went off and her world exploded. You’ll never have Pine Paradise, Noel! I’ll die before I sell to you, bastard!
That man, standing at her desk, the cruel smirk on his face the day the office blew up. Nestor. The wildness in his eyes, the smell of smoke...
Nestor removed a switchblade from his back pocket. “I should have slit your throat the first time I grabbed you on the street. This time, I’ll do it slow, make you hurt. Your lover can’t help you. He’s dead.”
A sob caught in her throat. Tears escaped from her eyes. She hated Nestor seeing her hurt. West couldn’t be dead. He was too alive, too full of life.
Nestor kicked her in the belly. The rush of pain made her gasp, stole the breath from her lungs. Then he stomped on her back, forcing her to lie flat.
“You messed up my little show. Now you’re gonna pay. But first, I’m having a little fun.”
With the toe of his boot, he jabbed her ribs. Nestor tore her dress. With sickening dread, she knew what he planned to do.
Rape her, and then kill her.
* * *
Pain radiated into his ribs. A fierce ache pounded in his head. The explosion had tossed him sideways, knocking him flat. West struggled to his feet, groping for balance. Quinn was out there, alone with the perp. He had to get to her. His heart constricted. No time for panic, for the helpless feeling threatening to take over. Use your training. It wasn’t Quinn out there, the woman he adored. Loved with all his soul. It was a vic and she needed help.
Enough dust cleared for him to see the building. Nestor had torn Quinn’s dress as she lay on the ground. Now he unzipped his pants. West reached for his gun when a bout of dizziness seized him. Damn it, he couldn’t risk hurting Quinn when he couldn’t see straight.
But he had another weapon—his brain. West holstered his weapon.
“El Jefe,” he sang out. “Want to try again? You screwed up, big-time.”
Confusion on his face, Nestor scrambled to his feet. Sunshine glinted off the blade in his hand. “Where are you?”
Nestor turned, knife in hand.
Just as he’d hoped, Quinn made a run for it. But Nestor ran after her, grabbed her arm. Quinn, bless her, had retrieved the chef’s knife she’d dropped. She slashed Nestor’s face. A scream erupted from the man’s throat as he clawed at the wound slicing his cheek open. He darted after Quinn, blood running down his jaw.
Screw that.
Out of the cloud of smoke and dust West raced forward, running full speed like a linebacker. West reached for his weapon, praying he could get in one good hit.
He fired.
Pink mist bloomed around Nestor’s right thigh. Screaming, Nestor collapsed on the ground. West flipped the man over and slapped steel cuffs onto his wrists.
Red pooled from Nestor’s thigh wound. West withdrew his phone. “Prisoner in custody. Send ambulance to Good Eats on Main.”
West glanced at her. Quinn shook, gooseflesh on her arms, blood dripping from a scalp wound. Her pretty dress was ripped, exposing her bra and panties. “You okay?”
He shrugged out of his shirt, placed it around her shivering body.
Stricken, she nodded. West flinched, pulled his belt free and wrapped it around Nestor’s thigh. A string of screams and curses followed. Quinn stared.
“You’re bleeding and you’re treating him!”
“I may have nicked an artery,” West told her.
“Let him bleed.”
“No can do, sweetheart. We need him for questioning.” West tightened the belt around Nestor’s leg and the man screamed again.
“Son of a bitch, that hurts, you bastard!” Nestor yelled.
“Shut up. Be grateful I don’t squeeze it tighter for daring to hurt my woman.” Grimacing, West sat back, gripped his shoulder. Blood stained the light gray shirt.
Sirens screeched in the distance. Unraveling the bandanna she wore in her hair, she pressed it against West’s wound.
She could have lost him.
“Hey.” West reached up, touched a tear trickling down her cheek. “It’s okay now, sweetheart. Bad guy is knocked out. He’ll go to prison. No one will threaten you again.”
“I’m not crying because of him.” Quinn rubbed her cheek against his trembling hand. “I almost lost you, West.”
“But you didn’t. Takes more than a bomb and a knife to take me down.” He considered as she applied more pressure. “Well, maybe an HK416. Assault rifle. That could do the trick.”
How could he joke at something this serious? And then she saw the emotion clouding
his gaze and knew that humor masked the fear he felt.
“You were scared,” she said. “Not for yourself.”
“I was damn scared. Haven’t felt that kind of fear in many years. I thought...I wouldn’t reach you in time. Your phone went to voice mail.”
She opened the door and the dog rushed out. Rex whined, jumping up and down on West. He rubbed the dog’s head.
“I’m okay, boy,” he told Rex.
“I couldn’t bear to talk with you again,” she whispered, broken. “Because I missed you so much and I still haven’t forgiven you for keeping secrets from me.”
Her hands wouldn’t quit trembling. Quinn felt as if someone had tossed her into a bucket and kept shaking it. West took one hand, kissed it.
“Am I forgiven now?” he asked.
The ghost of a smile touched her wobbly mouth. “Maybe. When you recover.”
Six police officers stormed out of the back door, along with EMTs. One medic checked out West.
Finn Colton arrived next. Quinn’s mouth wobbled. Finn, her cousin. Over there, Brayden. She knew them, knew these men now gathered around West, doing their jobs with quiet efficiency.
“Is he going to be okay?” she asked the medic.
“We’ll take him in, keep him for observance.”
“No way. I’m fine,” West argued.
Finn held up a hand. “You’re going to the hospital, Agent Brand.”
“Don’t argue with the chief,” Quinn told him. She gripped his hand. “Please.”
Another EMT began giving her first aid for the head wound. West scowled. “Only if you go with me, sweetheart.”
“Deal. But this is nothing. I regained my memory.” She looked at Finn. “I remember everything. About Tia, the explosion and Nestor.”
“His real name is Aston Reston. He’s a career criminal,” West told her.
The medic pulled a blanket over Quinn’s shoulders. “We’ll bring you in as well to get checked out. Head wounds are tricky.”
“Tell me about it,” Quinn muttered.
* * *
An hour later, she sat by West’s bed in the ER. Finn paced the room as West gave his report. The antiseptic smells bothered her, but not as much as the sight of an injured West, chest bare, the ugly white bandage on his shoulder.
“I still don’t understand how my landlord is connected to this, other than this Santo/Aston person being a cousin. Why would Larson want to blow up his building?”
“Insurance would cover it.”
West struggled to get up, but Finn pushed him down. “Easy, big guy. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I should have aimed for his damn heart,” West scowled.
“Good thing you didn’t,” Finn told him. “Reston is in lockup. DA will apply pressure, get him to talk about who hired him to blow up Tia Linwicki.”
“Reston did it, but I think the Larsons were connected,” Quinn blurted out.
Both men looked at her. She blushed, touched her head. “Now that I got my memory back, I remember the conversation Tia had with Noel Larson on the phone the day before the explosion. She backed out on the deal to sell Pine Paradise. Larson wasn’t going to own the deed to the property. She found out the Larsons were deeding the property to Aston Reston right after the sale. He planned to take it over, renovate the property with a loan from his cousins.”
“A loan?” Finn raised his brows. “I’ll bet the payback was letting the Larsons use it for illegal activity.”
“Tia found out Reston would be on the deed, and she backed out. She told me with his record, she didn’t want her family’s property going to a convicted felon.”
She’d been in a rush that day, anxious to get back to the store to fill a big catering order, and had tucked the conversation in the back of her mind. Until now.
It felt wonderful to recall everything now. Even the price she’d paid was worth it. Quinn knew she could finally get her life back.
Finn finished taking West and Quinn’s formal statements and left. Alone with West, she held his hand.
His gaze met hers. “Quinn, there’s still the matter of Demi. Did you give the jacket back to Demi recently?”
“No. I had loaned my compact to Tia last month. She never returned it. It was shortly before she met Larson at the abandoned hardware store. She told me Larson wanted to see it, maybe buy the property.”
“That’s how it ended up there. She probably dropped it.” West gave her a level look. “Demi’s jacket?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. That’s the biggest puzzle of all. Someone took it from my closet, but how? Only you and I had keys to my apartment.”
“And security cameras would have picked up footage in the hallway.” West shifted his weight on the bed. “Soon as I’m out of here, I’ll look into it.”
Chapter 21
It felt so wonderful to have her memory back and return to normal.
The day after police arrested Aston Reston for Tia’s murder, Quinn felt as if she could finally move forward. West had returned to work, heading to the training center with Rex, but promised to meet her later. Humming, Quinn arranged baked goods in the glass case when the little silver bell tinkled over the door.
Quinn blinked in surprise. Gemma strolled inside. Her cousin Gemma Colton, from the right side of the tracks. Wealthy, spoiled and with a designer wardrobe any woman would envy.
Those things no longer mattered as much to Quinn.
With her chestnut hair and dark eyes, Gemma was a beauty. Today she wore a sleeveless turquoise blouse and designer jeans and turquoise heels. She looked around the store with interest.
“Hi, Gemma.” Quinn wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Anything I can help you with?”
“I stopped by to see how you were doing. Everyone is talking about you and West.”
So much for a secret relationship. Quinn didn’t care. West was back on his feet, fully recovered, and Tia’s murderer behind bars. She had her memory back. Life was good.
“Thanks. I’m doing well.” Quinn motioned to the tables outside. “Would you like a kale smoothie on the house?”
Gemma’s perfect nose wrinkled. “How about strawberry instead?”
Soon they were seated outside, the sun beaming down on them, a nearly cloudless sky overhead. Pedestrians strolling past nodded and smiled. Gemma must be right. Everyone kept talking and looking at her, but not in an accusing way.
More like respect. And curiosity.
“Your West is so brave. Putting himself in danger to save you.” Gemma heaved a dramatic sigh. “You’re lucky to have a man love you that way, Quinn.”
Odd hearing that from Gemma, who always seemed to have everything in life. “He’s a good man.”
“It’s amazing that you ended up like this. I mean, look at your father. He isn’t an upstanding member of society. You have no lineage in town. So how did you get West to fall in love with you?”
Once, Gemma’s words would have cut deep. Made her feel like that little girl who’d never been invited to the rich Colton parties. But those times were past. And the look on Gemma’s face—pure desperation—tugged at Quinn’s heart.
Maybe Gemma had no filter, but she wasn’t cruel on purpose.
Gemma hadn’t come here to check on her or make friends. Gemma needed some kind of assurance. “What’s wrong?” Quinn asked gently.
Her cousin stared at her drink. “How can I get Devlin to fall in love with me the way West loves you?”
More surprises. “You’ve been dating awhile. It seems serious.”
“Oh yes, he seems serious. About seeing me, and being with me. But I get the feeling he doesn’t love me. Not like West feels about you.” Gemma toyed with her straw. “Would Devlin risk himself to save my life the way West did with you?”
Sympathy filled her. “West is a
trained agent, hon. Give it a chance with Devlin.”
Gemma sighed. “You’re so lucky, Quinn. I wish I could get Devlin to love me. Will it ever happen?”
Quinn sipped her kale drink. “Gemma, love isn’t something you force. You let it happen, nurture it. You can’t make yourself into someone different just to get the other person to love you. It’s chemistry and conversation and a whole lot of forgiveness and compromise.”
“Maybe.” Her cousin looked thoughtful. “I can try harder.”
It would happen or it would not. Gemma had to discover that on her own, just as Quinn had. Talk switched to the new recipes Quinn tested when West’s pickup pulled up front.
Rex wasn’t with him. Quinn’s heart skipped a beat. Was everything okay?
Rising to her feet, Gemma gave her a hug. “Thanks.” She glanced at West. “Thank you for saving her.”
West nodded, but he seemed distracted. As Gemma walked away, West jingled his keys.
Something was up. “What’s wrong? I thought you were at the training center today. Is everything all right with Rex?”
“He’s fine. I left him there to work with one of the other trainers while I checked something out. Come on. We need to have a little chat with your business partner. Where is he?”
They went into the store and into the kitchen, where Austin chopped vegetables at a cutting board.
“About time you stopped socializing and returned to work. I need help.” Austin pointed to a pile of carrots. “Start prepping those and I’ll make the sauce.”
Another odd thing, much odder than Gemma paying her a visit. When had Austin grown so bossy?
West gently gripped her arm. “No, Quinn.”
His gaze turned icy hard. “Austin, did you deliver a food order to a resort in the canyon near Pine Paradise?”
Quinn’s heart skipped a beat as her business partner’s face flushed. “Why? I’ve been trying to get us business, I’ve been—”
“You’ve been trying to get Quinn in trouble,” West cut in.
“That’s not true!” Austin’s wild gaze whipped to Quinn. “Why would I do that?”
“Only one person could have taken Demi’s jacket from Quinn’s closet. One person who had access, besides myself and Quinn. We analyzed the wrapper found at cabin seven. Tests showed it contained traces of aspartame, the ingredient found in sugar-free gum.” West’s hardened gaze centered on Austin. “The key to cabin number seven has been missing awhile. Where did you put it, Austin? Before I bring you into the station for fingerprinting, anything you care to confess, Austin? Besides the fact you like to make origami and steal women’s clothing?”
