by Lara Lacombe
They walked in silence the rest of the way, each lost in their own thoughts. They followed the gurney into the parking lot and watched as the team loaded the body into the back of a van. Rebecca shuddered a bit, and Quinn put his hand on her shoulder.
“You okay?” She’d been so composed and focused all day, it hadn’t occurred to him she might be upset as well. He knew from experience how difficult it was to find a body, but he’d figured Rebecca was too professional to let her emotions cloud her thoughts and actions.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not used to being the first one on the scene. I generally don’t interact with the victims in person—I usually just see crime-scene photos, which are much more removed from the situation.”
He pulled gently on her shoulder and she stepped into his arms with a small sigh. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said softly.
She wrapped her arms around him and burrowed close. “Same to you,” she said. “I can only imagine how tough it’s been for you to go through that several times in the past two weeks.”
“It’s hard,” he said. And while today’s discovery had been horrible, he didn’t feel that same clawing desperation that had plagued him after the discovery of the first two victims. Maybe he was growing desensitized. Or maybe it had something to do with the woman in his arms.
Rebecca’s presence had helped him today. Even though they hadn’t spent much time in conversation, just having her nearby had calmed him. He’d drawn strength from her measured reactions, the businesslike way she’d set about doing her job. He’d taken his cues from her, and she’d kept him grounded today so that his emotions hadn’t spun off out of control.
Now it seemed it was his turn to help her.
She wasn’t the type to complain—he knew that much. But it was clear she was feeling the effects of their discovery and he wanted to ease her mind, make her feel normal again, if only for a few minutes.
“I know you’re probably not hungry, but we need to eat.” They’d stayed at the site most of the day, missing lunch. The lack of food and the heat had left him feeling drained, and he imagined she was feeling the same way.
She nodded, her head moving against his chest. “Actually, I could really use a drink.”
Quinn didn’t blame her. He wasn’t much of a drinker himself, but a little alcohol might help both of them take the edge off of the day. “I know just the place.”
* * *
At first glance, the Flowering Cactus wasn’t much to look at. The place was at the end of a strip of doughnut shops and dry cleaners in Alpine, tacked on almost like an afterthought. The sign simply said BAR, and a neon cactus flickered in one of the windows, casting a green glow on the sidewalk.
Rebecca looked at Quinn, who smiled slightly and shrugged. “Just wait,” he advised.
He held the door and they walked inside. The bar was surprisingly well lit, with a stage at the far end. A small group of men were mulling about, holding guitars, setting up microphones and corralling a network of cords that stretched across the floor. Rebecca mentally braced herself for the aural onslaught that was sure to come—after all, how good could this small local band really be?
She and Quinn snagged a small table against the wall and she reached for the laminated menu stuck between the condiment bottles.
“There’s not much to choose from,” he said as she glanced down the page. “But the food isn’t bad.”
A moment later a young woman approached the table for their order. “You should try the local brew,” Quinn advised. “That’s what this place is known for.”
“Sounds good,” Rebecca said. The waitress scribbled down their requests and left. Quinn leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“Doing okay?”
Rebecca nodded. In truth, she wasn’t sure how she felt at the moment. Finding the third victim had been upsetting, and she was a little surprised at how much it bothered her. Rebecca was no stranger to death—in her line of work, she routinely looked at crime-scene photos and autopsy reports, and she often listened to the killers themselves recount the details of their crimes. But there was something different about stumbling across a victim so soon after the murder. She was used to having a wall of separation between herself and the crime—photos were graphic, yes, but they were still removed from the actual event. It was tougher to compartmentalize her emotions when she was sitting next to the body, the scent of death fresh in her nose.
The waitress deposited their drinks and fluttered away again. Rebecca took a sip. “You’re right,” she said, taking a deeper draw. “This is good.”
Quinn smiled. “Glad you like it.”
The alcohol hit her right away, likely thanks to a combination of hunger and being out in the heat all day. Her limbs tingled pleasantly as warmth spread through her system. She forced herself to put down the glass—it was tempting to drink it all in one go, but she wanted to enjoy this feeling of relaxation and not slip right into drunkenness.
“How are you?” she asked. This was Quinn’s third time finding a body, and she could tell by the haunted look in his brown eyes it weighed on him.
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, trying to look casual. “I’ve had better days.” He sipped his own beer, studying her over the rim of the glass. “I’m a little worried,” he confessed. “I really don’t want this to become the new normal.”
“It won’t,” she said, trying to inject confidence into her voice. Rebecca took pride in her ability to do her job well, but now wasn’t the time to discuss the fact that she didn’t always catch the bad guy.
“Quinn! Good to see you, buddy!”
They both glanced up. A tall, handsome man stood at their table, a wide grin on his face. Quinn stood and shook his hand, clapping him on the back.
“How’s it going, Carter?”
“Doing well. Glad you made it out.” He turned to the table and stuck out his hand. “Carter Donaghey.”
Rebecca introduced herself. “Carter is another ranger,” Quinn explained. “He mainly works in the far west region of the park.”
“That explains why I haven’t met you before now,” Rebecca said.
“Better late than never,” Carter said, winking at her.
Rebecca felt her face flush and hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Carter was definitely cute, and under any other circumstances, she would have appreciated his flirting. But his easygoing charm was no match for the thoughtful care Quinn had shown over the past few days.
“I need to get back over there,” Carter said, jerking his head in the direction of the stage. “We’re gonna start soon. I just wanted to say hi.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rebecca said. Carter and Quinn said their goodbyes, and Carter walked away.
“Sorry,” Quinn said after the other man had left. “I didn’t know he’d be playing here tonight.”
“It’s no problem,” she said. “He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is,” Quinn confirmed. “I don’t know him that well, but every time I see him he’s always friendly.”
“I wonder if he’s seen anything that might help with the investigation,” she mused. “It’s possible the killer is hanging out in another area of the park between murders to avoid detection.”
“Maybe,” Quinn said. “But let’s worry about that later. You can’t exactly interview him now, and I brought you here to help take your mind off things, remember?”
She ducked her head, feeling a little sheepish. “You’re right. I have a hard time switching out of work mode sometimes.” It was something Brandon had nagged her about frequently, to the point of annoyance. She appreciated the fact Quinn’s reminder had been a gentle nudge rather than a blatant demand for her attention.
They fell into an easy conversation, interrupted a few minutes later by the arrival of their food. Carter and his friends took the stage while they ate. “Howdy, y
’all. Thanks for coming out tonight. We’re Tall Cotton, and we’re gonna get started.”
Rebecca braced herself, but the band was surprisingly good. They played a mix of original songs and popular covers that had her toe tapping to the beat. Carter had a nice voice, and she saw more than one woman in the audience eyeing him appreciatively. The area in front of the stage was clear of tables and chairs and the small dance floor was soon crowded with couples swaying to the music.
Quinn gave her a questioning look. Rebecca nodded, her stomach fluttering with nerves as she stood to take his hand. What was she doing? She didn’t know the first thing about dancing. And to her untrained eye, it looked like some of the people were starting an impromptu line dance, which was even more complicated.
He led her to a corner of the floor and brought her close. “Uh, I have a confession to make.”
“What’s that?” His brown eyes flickered with amusement, and she had a feeling he already knew what she was about to say.
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“That’s all right.” He placed one hand on her hip, a large, warm weight that anchored her to him. “I’ll teach you. Just relax.”
She placed one hand on his shoulder and fitted her other hand into his. Then he began to guide them to the music, gently nudging her in one direction or another.
Rebecca moved stiffly at first, trying to anticipate and control where they moved. Quinn brought her even closer and dipped his head. “Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve got you.”
Maybe it was the heat of his body seeping into hers. Maybe it was the scent of him filling her nose. Or perhaps it was simply the alcohol taking effect, draining the tension from her muscles. For whatever reason, Rebecca surrendered to Quinn’s lead, her body melting against his as he guided them across the floor.
The band transitioned to another song. Quinn’s rhythm changed. “Let’s try a little two-step,” he said softly. Rebecca didn’t resist this time, following his lead as he introduced the new steps. Soon, they were gliding along in sync, as if they’d been dancing together for years.
She lost track of time as they moved, the music fading into the background as she focused on the feel of Quinn’s arms around her. There was something so good, so right, about the way he held her, the way their bodies fit together. Almost as if they were made for each other.
It was a fanciful thought, one she wanted to dismiss immediately. But she couldn’t deny the pull Quinn exerted on her, or the way his presence eased the small part of her heart that always felt like a tightly coiled spring on the verge of snapping.
I could get used to this, she realized. Spending time with Quinn made her see how one-dimensional her life in Virginia had been. Sure, she had friends and went out occasionally, but the bulk of her time was spent on work. While that hadn’t bothered her before, she now recognized she’d been hiding from the world. It had been so easy to dedicate herself to the job, to the detriment of her personal life. Relationships required care and attention, things she hadn’t felt capable of providing in the wake of Brandon’s death.
But being around Quinn made her think she was ready to try again.
Did he feel the same way? Was he open to the possibility of something new? Or was he still focused on grieving, devoted to the memory of his wife?
The music drew to a close. Quinn stepped back, putting some space between them. He smiled down at her, emotions she couldn’t name flickering through his eyes. “Thirsty?”
“Yes.”
She dimly heard Carter saying something about taking a break as they walked back to their table. The beer was now warm, but it was wet and went down easily. She opened her mouth to speak, but was beaten to the punch by a new arrival.
“I thought that was you.”
They both turned at the voice. A slight man stood next to the table, his light brown hair a bit on the longish side. “It is you, right? Quinn Gallagher?”
Rebecca glanced at Quinn, who was staring up at the new arrival with his mouth slightly open. “Justin?”
The man smiled. “The one and only.”
“My God,” Quinn said softly. Then he jumped to his feet and stuck out his hand, clapping the other man on the back. “It’s good to see you! What are you doing here?” Quinn snagged a nearby chair, pulling it over to the table. Justin sat and shrugged.
“I got some time off work and decided to come down here for a little camping and hiking. A friend was here last summer and said the views were amazing.”
“They are,” Quinn confirmed. He glanced at Rebecca. “I’m sorry, we’re being rude. Rebecca, this is Justin. Naomi’s husband.”
It took a few seconds for her to process the significance of the name, but then she remembered. Naomi had been friends with Ashley, Quinn’s wife. She was the woman who had died in the same accident that killed Ashley. “Nice to meet you,” she said, smiling.
“Likewise,” Justin replied. He turned back to Quinn. “I think I remember hearing you’d moved to Big Bend, but I never thought I’d actually run in to you.”
“It’s a small world,” Quinn said. “How have you been?”
The two men chatted for a few minutes, catching up. Rebecca watched Quinn closely as they talked. She could tell from his reaction he’d been shocked to see Justin. Quinn appeared happy enough to talk to the other man, but she noted the subtle lines of strain around his eyes and the way his smile looked just a bit forced. Seeing Naomi’s widower out of the blue had probably brought up a lot of emotions he hadn’t been prepared to confront, and her heart went out to him.
Please go, she thought silently. Justin seemed nice enough, but she didn’t like to see Quinn upset. They’d been having such a nice evening but now the glow was gone. Could they recapture a bit of the spark before saying good-night? She hated the thought of sending him home alone to deal with the consequences of this emotional ambush. Maybe they could get a coffee somewhere, or catch a movie...
“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Justin said, rising to his feet. “Just wanted to say hi.”
Quinn stood as well. “It was good to see you,” he said. “Maybe we can get together for dinner while you’re in the area.”
“I’d like that,” Justin replied. He nodded at Rebecca. “I’m glad to see you’re moving on.”
Quinn blushed but didn’t reply. Rebecca bit her tongue, settling instead for a bland smile. “Take care,” she said.
Rebecca studied Quinn as he watched Justin walk away. She could only imagine how he must feel right now, after that unexpected blast from the past. Should she ask him about it, or would he prefer to pretend nothing had happened? Although she felt like she already knew Quinn well, there was still a lot about him that remained a mystery.
After a few seconds of internal debate, Rebecca decided to speak up. If he didn’t want to talk, at least he knew she was willing to listen. “So that was a surprise, huh?”
Quinn startled at the sound of her voice. He shook his head, reminding her of a dog casting off water. Then he turned to her with a small smile. “You can say that again.” His tone was light, but his brow was still slightly furrowed.
“Want to talk about it?”
He shook his head again. “Nothing to talk about, really. To tell you the truth, after the funeral, I never thought I’d see him again.”
“He probably thought the same thing,” she said.
“Maybe so.” Quinn shrugged, then drained the last of his beer. Carter and his band took the stage again, and Quinn glanced at her. “Ready to head out? Or would you rather stay...?” He trailed off, but Rebecca recognized he was making the offer simply to be polite. It was clear Quinn didn’t want to stick around after the impromptu meeting, and she didn’t blame him. The special moment they’d shared before was gone, and the magic wouldn’t return once the band started playing again.
“We can go
.” She dug a few bills out of her purse and left them on the table. For once, Quinn didn’t protest. Another sign he was feeling off after seeing Justin again. Rebecca’s heart ached for him, but what could she do? She knew how grief worked. One minute, she felt fine, like things were finally getting back to normal. Then she heard a song, passed by a café, smelled something familiar...and bam! She was back in that dark hole, trying to claw her way to the light again as if no time had passed at all. It was probably the same for Quinn.
Part of her wanted to turn away, to give him a bit of privacy as he dealt with his emotions. She’d certainly never enjoyed having witnesses to her pain when she’d been going through the worst after Brandon’s death. But she didn’t want to abandon Quinn while he faced his demons. She cared about him too much to leave him alone right now.
They reached the parking lot, her mind racing as she considered her next move. “You up for a cup of coffee?”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Think I’ll just head home and see if there’s a baseball game on TV.”
Rebecca nodded, trying not to feel hurt by his rejection. “Sounds good.”
They stood there for a moment, neither one of them making a move to leave. Finally, Rebecca stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a goodbye hug.
Quinn held her close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm in her ear. She felt him relax as the tension drained out of his muscles and he gave himself over to her embrace.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Time seemed to stand still, the sounds of evening traffic and the symphony of desert bugs fading into insignificance. Her senses were filled with everything Quinn—his touch, his scent, his warmth. She’d initiated the hug to offer him comfort, but she drew strength from him as well.
He pulled back slightly, so she eased her grip to let him go. To her surprise, he didn’t step away. They stayed close, Quinn’s head low as he looked down at her.
Anticipation sparked between them as the moment grew heavy with possibility. Rebecca sensed Quinn was debating what to do next, and her stomach fluttered with nerves. Kiss me, she pleaded silently. She wanted to feel his lips on hers more than anything, but given his current emotional state, he needed to be the one to make the first move.
