Quinn didn’t like how she phrased it. “Sweetie ... .”
She held up a hand to silence him. “I love you. It’s not like I think you’re a bad guy or anything. We need to come to a meeting of the minds, though. That’s all there is to it.”
He sighed as he regarded her. “I get that.” He chose his words carefully. “You have to understand what it was like when you were shot, though.”
“Barely shot,” she grumbled.
He extended a warning finger. “Stop saying that. You have no idea how much I hate it when you say that. You were shot. There’s no such thing as barely in the hospital ... or barely drugged to keep you from feeling the pain. You were freaking shot.”
“Fine. I was shot.”
“And I was the one with you when it happened,” he said. “I’m trained to react in situations like that. I’m not supposed to freeze ... and yet that’s exactly what I did.”
Rowan stilled, surprised. This was the first time he’d phrased it that way, although he’d come relatively close two other times. “I’m sorry that you’re so upset about that,” she said finally, fingering another scallop as she regarded him. “I can’t go back and fix that, though. I don’t want you ever feeling fear. What happened was terrible, but we came out the other side. That’s the important thing, right?”
“It feels as if there should be multiple ‘important’ things.” He used the appropriate air quotes. “I want you safe. That being said, I realize that we’ve been doing things as an investigative duo for months now. You’re used to us working together and not being shut out. That’s important ... to both of us.”
“So, just like that you’re going to give up being an overbearing louse and take me to the party?” Rowan remained dubious. “Why do I think that sounds nothing like you?”
“Because you’re a smart girl.” He cracked a smile. “We’re going to the party. It’s going to be held on the compound and there will be multiple law enforcement representatives there. Fred already called his contacts and checked. None of them are on the guest list, but several have been able to finagle dates with those who have been invited.”
“Oh.” Rowan’s forehead wrinkled as she absorbed the new information. “I guess I don’t know what to say to that. Do you think that means the cops have something planned for the memorial?”
Quinn held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I honestly have no idea,” he said. “From our perspective, it doesn’t matter. They’ll be there and we’re going to be very careful to make sure we’re not isolated. That means you’re sticking with me at all times. If you have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be standing directly outside the door. Nuh-uh. No lip.” He wiggled his finger.
“You have to promise to stick close to me no matter what if this is going to work,” he continued. “I’m willing to meet you halfway, admit I was a bit of a jerk earlier, and move past it. You have to meet me halfway, too.”
Rowan clutched the garment bag a little tighter. “And if I agree to stick close to you, we’re really going?”
“Yeah. We’re not the only ones either.” He jerked his thumb toward Fred. “We’ll have additional backup with us. Also, I was thinking your father and Nick could watch everything happening in the compound from the spot we visited the other day. Having a couple extra sets of eyes on our team can’t possibly hurt.”
“I think that sounds fair,” Paul offered. “I wouldn’t mind going to the memorial service myself, but I know that will be a mistake.”
“Definitely, because there will be news cameras on the premises,” Quinn said. “I’ve already checked. The media is being allowed on the grounds for a seaside service. They’re not being allowed inside. Still, that won’t stop them from trying to sneak around. You need to be very careful.”
“And if someone catches you hanging out close to the property, pretend to be a looky-loo,” Fred instructed. “Act like you’re there because you like the pomp and circumstance of it all. Don’t let on anything else is happening.”
“I think we can handle that,” Nick said. “How long do you expect to be inside?”
“I have no idea,” Quinn replied. “I want to get close enough to watch Ariel and Winchester interact, though. I’d also like a face-to-face with Patrice if we can swing it.”
“Do you think she’ll be stupid enough to say something to you?” Paul asked. “I mean ... if she’s the one to blame for what happened to Rowan, do you think she’ll simply own up to it?”
“Probably not. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see her reaction.”
“Fair enough.”
Rowan popped another scallop in her mouth and then turned her full attention to the garment bag. “Just out of curiosity, how did you know what sort of dress to pick for me?” She was almost scared to look inside. “I mean ... you didn’t pick out something weird, did you?”
Quinn thought about torturing her, but it seemed unnecessary. “I called Sally and sent her snapshots of dresses. Fred and I were quite the hit while shopping in the boutique, by the way. The woman who helped us thought we were out of our minds.”
“Speak for yourself,” Fred said dryly. “I’m taking her out for dinner tomorrow night.”
“You asked her out?” Quinn was incredulous. “When did that happen?”
“When you were double-checking the sizes on the dresses. Trust me. Trisha and her flirty smile are going to be all over me come tomorrow.”
“That sounds ... lovely.”
“So ... Sally helped you pick it out, huh?” Rowan’s lips curved. “I hope she remembered I need something that will cover up my shoulder. Sally tends to go skimpy.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Her eyes were clear when they met his. “This is a nice compromise,” she said finally. “I’m sorry you’re still struggling with what happened to me. I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself, but that doesn’t seem to be how you roll.”
“No,” he agreed. “I like flogging myself on a regular basis. That’s simply who I am.”
She giggled despite herself. “Does that mean we’ve made up?”
“Other than a few details.” He cast a quick look toward Paul and then changed course. He had no intention of talking about those “details” in front of his girlfriend’s father. “You should finish your lunch and then get dressed. We only have two hours to spare and I want to make sure the dress fits.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Good.” He moved to say something to Fred, but Rowan stopped him with a hand on his wrist as she drew closer. “Thank you.”
He was caught off guard by the heartfelt expression on her face. “For what?”
“For knowing what I need and giving it to me. That took a lot of courage.”
“I’m going to be watching you like a hawk,” he cautioned. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I want to be very clear on that.”
“I know. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Then that’s all I care about.”
“You care about one other thing.” Her voice was barely a whisper when she rolled to the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You care about that.”
“I definitely do,” he agreed, smirking. “Now, get moving. I want to see you in that dress as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.” She sent him a saucy wink as she headed toward the bathroom. “I’m kind of terrified to see what you picked out. If I look like a Kardashian I’m totally going to melt down.”
“That makes two of us. Just ... go. I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised.”
QUINN MIGHT NOT HAVE EVER PICKED out a dress before, but the one Rowan found herself clad in was something out of a dream. It was clearly expensive — he’d apparently decided price was no object — and it fit her like a glove.
“I don’t understand how you managed to get something so perfect,” she gushed as he led her inside the Sterling mansion hours later. “It’s as if it was made for me.
”
Even though they were on a serious excursion, Quinn couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Believe it or not, I lucked out. I was frozen with fear when I was in that store. Sally told me to pick five dresses I liked and send her photos. She narrowed it down to two dresses and I picked the final one. She seemed to know your size, which was good, because I thought for sure I would buy something too big and you would feel insulted.”
Rowan barked out a laugh as she snagged a glass of fizzy water from a nearby tray. “That sounds about right. I don’t know how Sally did it, but she picked the perfect size.”
“I believe she went into your closet and double-checked. I gave her the okay to have a keycard made for entry. If that upsets you ... well ... you can spank me later. She guessed the right size from the start, though, and only had to confirm it.”
“I’ll consider doing the spanking thing later.” She sipped the water and tilted her head as she regarded the crowd. “There are a lot of people here. Who do you think was invited?”
“That’s a good question.” Quinn slipped his arm around her narrow waist and surveyed those in attendance. “There’s a lot of fancy dresses and suits here,” he said after a beat. “I’m betting most of these people are society friends.”
“Like the other members of the one percent who live in the area?”
“Pretty much.”
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both of them content to people watch as they sipped carbonated water and watched for familiar faces. Rowan was the first to break it.
“There’s Fred.” She inclined her chin rather than point. “Who is he with?”
“I have no idea,” Quinn smirked when he saw his friend decked out in an expensive suit. The blonde he was with was tall and willowy ... and looked barely old enough to drink. “He always manages to find a date somewhere. He didn’t have any problem arranging this when I suggested he come with us.”
“I’m guessing he’s a popular guy because of what he does,” Rowan mused. “Most women probably find him dashing and daring because he solves crimes.”
“He spends most of his time tracking down cheating husbands. I don’t know how dashing and daring that is.”
“Most women only see the romance of it, not the reality. From their perspective, he’s probably a catch. I mean ... he does own his own business.”
“Yes, he’s a veritable prince among men.” Quinn brushed his lips over Rowan’s ear when she giggled and turned his attention to the other side of the room. There, to his utter surprise, Detective Morgan stood with a woman on his arm. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was staring at Quinn. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” Rowan followed his gaze and frowned. “Who is that? I feel as if I should know who that is.”
“It’s the detective who was called to the beach right after your shooting. He visited you in the hospital, although you were still a little dazed at the time.”
“Oh.” Rowan had no idea what to make of the answer. “What do you think he’s doing here? Is he a friend of the family?”
“I’m not sure.” Quinn’s mind was busy. “I guess it’s possible. It’s also possible that he’s here as one of the undercover officers. I don’t know.”
“You didn’t like him, though, right?”
“Definitely not.”
“So ... maybe he’s on the Sterlings’ payroll. That would be a real kick in the pants, huh.”
Quinn could think of a few other words to describe that potential outcome. “It would be ... something.” He licked his lips and moved his attention to a set of double doors on the other side of the room. There, Patrice and Ben breezed into the room. They were decked out in expensive clothing and looked as if they were attending a ball instead of a memorial.
“Well, there’s the duo of the hour,” Rowan noted, grimacing. “They almost look as if they’re on a date, don’t they?”
“They’re projecting a united front,” Quinn murmured, shaking his head. “They want the world to see them as a damaged family. That’s what they’re doing.”
“That means they have to know about the hand, right? They have to know that the cops are going to start spreading stories about them to the media.”
“I’m guessing that’s the reason they’re doing this the way they are,” Quinn agreed, bobbing his head. “They want people to feel sorry for them. This entire evening will be about them and how they’re suffering.”
“But at least one of them is lying.”
“Definitely. We have to figure out which one ... and why we were invited. I’m guessing it’s not just because I was the one who plucked them from the water.”
“They’re going to try to talk to you at some point,” Rowan noted. “Will you go with them if they ask?”
“I won’t go anyplace that isn’t public.” Quinn was firm. “They might think they can fool me, but I’ve got news for them.”
“When do you think they’ll approach?”
“They won’t wait long. They’ll want to make sure that they have the proper time to work me.”
“Then we should be on the lookout.”
“Definitely.”
19
Nineteen
Rowan remained close to Quinn as the memorial gathering picked up steam. The event itself seemed odd to her, as if they were trapped in a scripted television show rather than a real-life opportunity to mourn the passing of three people who were well-loved and respected. In fact, the longer she stood in the room with people pretending they were sad, the more uncomfortable she got.
“It’s a performance,” she said after a few minutes.
“What is?”
“All of it.” She turned to their left. “Those people over there, they’re neighbors. I heard them. They live down the beach. They don’t even know the Sterlings but have always wanted to see inside the house. They’re also excited the cameras are outside, because they think they’ll be able to watch themselves on television later tonight.”
“I heard some of what they were saying,” he confided. “They’re not our sort of people. I think we can say that with absolute certainty.”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “It’s still frustrating. People make jokes about how the other half lives, but I don’t see how anyone can live like this. I mean ... look at those women. They’re all watching Ben, and I don’t think it’s because they’re trying to join in his grief. They want to catch his attention.”
Quinn followed her gaze, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he recognized the women she was talking about. Two of them were wearing necklines so revealing they basically plunged to belly button level. “Wow.”
Rowan slid her eyes to him. “Wow what?”
“Just ... wow.”
She couldn’t tamp down her suspicion. “Look-at-those-boobs wow?”
He clamped his lips together as he turned to look at her, amusement running rampant over his features. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking,” he hedged. “Now that you brought it up, though, they’re kind of out there and it’s difficult to look away.”
Rowan made a growling sound in the back of her throat. “Perhaps you should try.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His hand was warm when it landed on her back and he gave her a reassuring rub. “I would much rather look at you than them any day of the week.”
“It’s a little too late to try and save yourself.”
“It’s never too late.”
Rowan and Quinn remained where they were another twenty minutes. Once they realized Patrice and Ben were starting to herd people outside for the memorial, though, they switched tactics.
“Don’t get separated from me,” Quinn warned as he gripped her hand tightly. The crowd was beginning to thicken as people pressed toward the front door. “This is important. You stay close. In fact ... .” He wasn’t going to risk being separated from her for anything, which is why he shifted her in front of him and pressed his fro
nt to her back.
“What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
“I’m making sure we’re not separated.”
“It kind of looks like you’re molesting me.”
Quinn opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. She wasn’t wrong. Still, he had no intention of putting distance between them. “Suck it up,” he said after a beat. “It’s just until we get outside. Think of it as flirting.”
“At a memorial service?”
“I’m sure there are people who pick up women at memorial services; grief making strange bedfellows and all that. Don’t give me lip.”
Quinn didn’t allow himself to relax until they were both through the door. Then, because there seemed to be a stampede for good seats in the garden — where hundreds of wooden chairs had been erected in the middle of a sea of white flowers — Quinn pulled Rowan to the side so they could watch the show.
“This is ... horrible,” Rowan commented after a few minutes. “Those two women over there are arguing to see who gets the aisle seat.”
“Yeah, well ... .” Quinn trailed off when he caught a set of eyes watching him with unveiled interest. He forgot what he was going to say as he met Mitchum’s gaze head-on. The older man was making no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching them.
“We have a fan,” Quinn noted as he slipped his arm around Rowan’s waist.
She followed his gaze. “He doesn’t look happy, does he?”
“No.”
“Do you think we should talk to him?”
That was exactly what Quinn was wondering. Finally, he made up his mind and crossed to the other side of the driveway, Rowan pressed close to his side. “Mr. Sterling.” He bobbed his head in greeting. “It’s nice to see you again, although these aren’t the best of circumstances. Thank you for the invitation.”
Mitchum’s expression was grave. “I thought it only fitting that you be invited. You did save seventy-five percent of my family, after all.”
Perilous Seas Page 18
