“I’m sure the secretary you sweet talked will be willing to pony up your fee soon enough.”
“You have a point. Let’s get searching so I can find out.”
“On that we can agree.”
ROWAN ENJOYED SPENDING time with her father and uncle. Sure, they waited on her hand and foot and insisted she rest even though she was feeling fine. It was still a nice afternoon. That didn’t stop her mind from traveling to her morning argument with Quinn.
“You need to let that go,” Nick chided as he delivered a new glass of iced tea.
“I didn’t say anything,” Rowan protested. “How do you even know what I was thinking?”
“Because it’s written all over your face. And, believe it or not, it’s impossible for you to hide what you’re feeling.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘impossible.’”
“I would.”
Rowan let loose a long-suffering sigh that caused Nick to smirk. “I can’t stop thinking about Quinn.”
“Yes, you two are ridiculously cute together.”
“Not that. He really irritated me this morning.”
“Because?”
“Because he just issued a decree without considering how I felt about it. I mean ... I’m an adult. I’ve been making decisions for a very long time. Heck, technically I started making decisions before I was an adult.”
Paul exited the house at the same moment she uttered the statement. The look of regret on his face was profound. “I’m sorry about that.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to turn into a conversation about that again. No, seriously. I don’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m just annoyed with Quinn.”
“Because he wants to protect you?” Nick asked gently.
“Because he issued an edict. He didn’t voice his concerns. He just said ‘no’ and ‘because I said so’ when I argued with him. That’s not a true relationship.”
Nick and Paul exchanged mirthful looks, amusement positively rolling off them.
“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Paul hedged as he took the seat next to Rowan. “The other way to look at it is that he loves you so much he can’t help but put your safety above all else.”
Rowan’s expression was withering. “What a load of crap.”
Nick had to press his lips together to keep from laughing. “You disagree?”
“Of course I disagree. Quinn is supposed to be my partner, my equal. An equal doesn’t simply boss someone around and say ‘deal with it’ when there’s a complaint. That’s not a fair and equable relationship.”
“My dear, I think you’re going to discover that ‘fair and equable’ are not words that can be ascribed to a relationship,” Nick countered. “As much as you want the balance of power to be even, that’s rarely possible.
“In an unhealthy relationship, that power always rests with the same individual,” he continued. “In a healthy relationship, the power position continually switches between the two parties. That means you’re on top one day and he is the next. Are you saying Quinn is always in charge?”
Rowan balked. “No.”
“That means there are times you’re in charge.”
“Well, yeah.”
“So ... what’s the problem?”
Rowan made a growling sound deep in her throat. “I hate it when you’re all ‘I’m reasonable and you’re melting down like a petulant female,’” she groused. “That’s not what’s going on.”
“I should hope not.” Nick remained unruffled. “You’re a strong woman and I would never accuse you of being petulant ... unless you were being petulant.” His eyes twinkled with delight as she made a face. “I need you to tell me what you specifically think he did wrong, Rowan.” He steepled his fingers and rested them on his stomach. “I can’t hate the boy unless I know why I’m supposed to be doing it.”
“I don’t want you to hate him,” Rowan said hurriedly, making a face. “I definitely don’t want you to hate him. It’s just ... he’s being bossy.”
“I see. Would you think you were being bossy if the situations were reversed?”
Rowan’s face was blank. “What do you mean?”
“If Quinn were the one who was shot and he wanted to immediately head out to confront the people who did it two days later, what would you say?”
Rowan’s mouth dropped open. “I ... you ... .”
“That wasn’t really an answer.”
She collected herself. “That’s because it wasn’t a fair question.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to confront the people who shot me. That’s a ridiculous assumption.”
“Is it?” Nick refused to back down. “Why else would you want to attend the party? You didn’t know Pat Sterling or his daughter. You’re not an investigator. Why would you want to expose yourself that way?”
“Because they fell into our laps,” Rowan replied simply. “I was there the night they were plucked from the water. It felt like a miracle. I know that sounds simplistic, but it’s the truth. I thought we did something really good.”
“I believe saving lives is always a good thing,” Nick agreed.
“What if we didn’t, though?” Rowan rubbed the back of her neck as she readjusted to get more comfortable. “What if we played into their hands and helped them carry out a murder plot that they’re going to get away with?”
“I think that you’re jumping to a lot of assumptions,” Nick responded. “First off, news hasn’t even broken that the hand belongs to Pat Sterling. Very little attention has been paid to the discovery, mind you, because people assumed it was some sort of accident at sea. The media hasn’t put together the possibility that the hand belonged to a member of the Sterling family. If they had, the police would be under pressure to release what they know. As of now, they’re merely floating ... which is a good thing.”
Rowan knit her eyebrows. “How do you figure that?”
“The police don’t yet want the public to know that Pat Sterling couldn’t have died the way it’s been playing out in newspapers and on television. Why do you think that is?”
“I ... don’t know.”
“I’m guessing it’s because they’re setting a trap,” Paul offered. “They need time to do that. Pushing the matter doesn’t benefit anyone.”
“No, but the Sterlings are walking around as if they don’t have a care in the world. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“I don’t think they’re doing anything of the sort,” Nick countered. “I think they’re panicking. You said yourself that Quinn informed the brother about the hand. There’s no way at least some of the Sterlings don’t understand they’re in real trouble because the story they spun is about to unravel.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that Quinn refused to listen to my suggestion and instead unilaterally decided that we weren’t going to the party. That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” Paul countered. “As for Quinn, I happen to agree with him on this one. It’s not safe for you there after what happened. He made the right decision.”
“That’s the point, though,” Rowan snapped. “He made the decision. We’re supposed to make those decisions together.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him?” Nick queried. “I mean, after all, he’s doing what he feels is best for you. He’s not perfect, but he’s trying really hard to make sure you’re safe. You can’t hate his motives.”
“Just his methods,” Rowan agreed. “I really hate his methods.”
“Well, I suggest you give him a little time to calm down,” Paul supplied. “I’m willing to bet that, once he calms down and gets over the fear he felt when you were injured, that he’s going come to his senses and remember that your particular partnership only works if you both give and take with regular frequency.”
That wasn’t the answer Rowan wanted to hear. “I thought you guys would tell me he was stupid and agree that he should stop being a jerk.”
Paul ch
uckled. “Sometimes life doesn’t turn out how you think it’s going to. I can’t agree with you simply to agree with you. In this instance, I believe Quinn is right, though. His methods may be ham-handed, but his love for you is true. Perhaps you should give him a break.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She moved her neck and then tapped the pad she was doodling on. “Come on. Let’s go back to brainstorming about the Sterlings. I figure at least two of them have to be involved, maybe more. We need to figure out what’s going on.”
“Of course we do.” Nick’s lips curved as he shook his head. “You are a true joy sometimes, Rowan. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I tell myself that every day.”
“Good enough.”
QUINN AND FRED WADED THROUGH eight files before they found what they were looking for regarding Winchester’s smuggling arrest. It was buried in the case files of one Ronald Richter, a detective who had since retired. His files were a mess, but Quinn eventually discovered the one document that would ultimately allow them to see the bigger picture.
“Here it is.” He furrowed his brow as he read aloud. “‘When confronted with the evidence, Winchester agreed to act as a spy. It was his idea, as long as he got a deal. I wanted to arrest him, but the prosecutor said we needed help, so Winchester became our inside man.’”
“I don’t think that’s surprising,” Fred noted. “We’ve known the guy is a weasel since the start. He’s clearly the sort of man who will turn on whoever is necessary to save his own neck.”
“Right.” Quinn pursed his lips. “There’s another notation here. It says Winchester volunteered inside information within thirty minutes of being questioned. Richter says that he thinks Winchester always had this in his back pocket as an escape route.”
“Also not that surprising. If I were in Winchester’s position, I totally would’ve done the same thing.”
“The difference is, you would’ve never done what Winchester did.”
“I would like to think so,” Fred countered. “I hold myself up to a certain moral standard. Still, if times were desperate and I had family to take care of, I might’ve done the same thing. I can’t say otherwise without being in his position.”
“I can say otherwise.” Quinn was firm. “That’s not who you are. You’re a good guy and you always try to do the right thing.”
“Yeah, well ... .”
“Here’s another notation.” Quinn was fascinated by the file and couldn’t look away. “‘I argued with the prosecutor about giving Winchester such a lenient deal, but it’s too late. They’ve both already signed off on it.’”
“That’s one of Richter’s personal notes, right?”
Quinn nodded. “Yup. He wrote it in the margins. He must’ve been agitated and wanted to mark it all down for posterity in case someone dug in the records again, which would only happen if Winchester was being investigated.”
“He wanted to make sure he wasn’t seen as the bad guy.”
“Exactly.” Quinn scrubbed his cheeks as he clicked to the next page. The original documents had been scanned in and were PDFs, which meant they couldn’t be changed, and he was fascinated to read about Richter’s growing agitation. “Here’s another one. He says he had to meet with Winchester, who was late because he was seeing his daughter. He says Winchester only cares about being a father when it’s convenient.”
Fred’s forehead wrinkled. “Father? Did we know he was a father?”
“No. He didn’t mention it and I don’t remember seeing it in his records.”
“So, what happened to his kid?”
“That’s a very good question.” Quinn flipped another page as Fred started typing on his phone. “Can you get information on birth records?”
“Yeah. I pay to be part of that database. Let me see what I can find.”
“If Winchester really does have a daughter, I’m betting he used her as an excuse for what he was doing,” Quinn mused. “I mean, you said it yourself. If you were in a bad position and had dependents to take care of, you don’t know what you would do. I argue that Winchester would’ve done what he did regardless, but the kid served as a crutch of sorts.”
“I can totally see that happening,” Fred agreed, his eyes fixated on his phone. “Here we go. I found the birth record. It’s for a girl. She’s in her twenties. He’s listed on the birth certificate.”
“What’s her name?”
“Um ... huh.”
Quinn arched an eyebrow. “That sounds like a loaded ‘huh.’”
“It’s a ‘well, this is interesting’ huh.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Winchester’s daughter doesn’t share his last name,” Fred supplied. “She took her mother’s last name.”
“Okay.”
“It’s Ariel Coltraine.”
Whatever Quinn was expecting, that wasn’t it. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Well, that’s ... interesting.”
“You think?” Fred restlessly tapped his fingers on the desktop. “Winchester is crooked and dating the family matriarch behind the husband’s back. Ariel has a wonky record, isn’t exactly a paragon of virtue herself, and is sleeping with the rich son who is supposed to be getting married in a few weeks.”
“This has ‘elaborate scam’ written all over it.”
“What was your first clue?” Fred inclined his chin toward the computer. “Keep digging. I bet there’s more.”
Quinn didn’t doubt that, and for the first time in days, he felt as if they were finally getting somewhere. “Maybe the party isn’t such a bad idea after all. It is going to be out in the open.”
“I knew you would see things her way eventually. You’re a big marshmallow where she’s concerned.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
18
Eighteen
Quinn thought he’d put his foot down where the party was concerned. He was convinced taking Rowan was a mistake and had no intention of playing into her pouty nature.
Then he found Ariel was Winchester’s daughter and he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities.
That’s when he decided to act.
Rowan was eating lunch with her father and uncle — grilled scallops with corn and potatoes — when Quinn returned. He had a huge garment bag in his hands and Fred in tow.
“What’s going on?” she asked, legitimately curious. “Are you here to force me into a bulletproof jacket or something? If so, don’t bother. I’m not wearing it.”
Quinn bit back a sigh and reminded himself she had a right to her feelings. Her face was set, resolute, and he was almost positive he was about to make a big mistake. That didn’t stop him from plunging headlong into trouble.
“This is a party dress.” Quinn shoved it toward her. “I found myself at the mall an hour ago and figured you would need something to wear to the memorial ceremony.”
Rowan accepted the garment bag but her confusion was evident. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m taking you to the memorial.”
“I ... but ... .” Rowan shifted her eyes to Nick and Paul. “Is this some sort of elaborate prank I don’t understand?”
“Not last time I checked,” Paul replied dryly. “If it is, I’ve never heard of it. Of course, your mother and I didn’t play relationship games like that. We were adults.”
Quinn shot him a dirty look. “I’m not playing games. I’m here to give her what she wants.”
“Which means taking her to the memorial?” Nick asked, befuddled.
“Pretty much.”
“But ... is that safe?”
Quinn thought about lying — he understood why Nick and Paul were most likely worried — but ultimately that wasn’t the precedent he wanted to set. “Nothing in this world is completely safe.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know, but that’s the only answer I have.” Quinn opted to lay all of his cards on the table. “Fred and I managed to get a look at the files f
rom Winchester’s smuggling days. Everything was pretty much exactly how we expected it ... except for the part where Winchester had a daughter.”
“He has a daughter?” Rowan popped another scallop in her mouth, which made Quinn smile because she used her fingers. Even two days after being shot, after they’d spent the better part of the morning fighting, she still had an appetite and loved her seafood. That was one of his favorite things about her. Nothing could keep her down.
“He does,” Fred confirmed. “Do you want to know who it is?”
“I’m almost afraid to hear it,” Rowan admitted. “It must be someone good. Wait ... is it that chick we saw on the news the other day? You know the one I’m talking about, right? The one who seduced all those married rich men and stole their credit cards. It’s her, isn’t it?”
“No, but that would be a funny twist. It’s Ariel Coltraine.”
Rowan almost tripped over her own tongue. “What?”
“Ariel Coltraine,” he repeated. “She kept her mother’s name, but it’s definitely her. Once we knew to look, it wasn’t hard to track the birth records.”
“But ... I don’t understand.” Rowan’s mind was a busy place as she ran the new information through it. “If Ariel is Winchester’s daughter then ... something very odd is going on at that compound.”
“That’s why we’re going to the memorial.” Quinn sucked in a calming breath. “I don’t agree that I was bossing you around. I get why you were upset, but I think I have a right to voice my concerns.”
Rowan wasn’t a fan of having this conversation in front of her father and uncle — let alone Fred, who seemed to be enjoying himself — but she didn’t see a way around it. “You didn’t voice your concerns. You demanded I agree with you. You also insisted that I do exactly what you instructed, which isn’t how I see this relationship going. You need to listen to me when I speak.”
“And you don’t think I do that?”
“Generally you do,” she answered hurriedly. “You’re usually the most easygoing guy alive. When you’re concerned about my well-being, you sit me down and we talk about it. That’s how things are supposed to be. You don’t bark out orders and expect me to come to heel.”
Perilous Seas Page 17
