“I was worried because it got awfully quiet in here,” Alex said.
Billie smiled. “We’re fine. I’ll stay and finish my book if that’s all right with the officer.”
“I’ll check with him. You okay with that, little brother?”
“Like I have a say in anything that’s happening around here,” Quinn muttered.
Alex and Billie shared a conspiratorial smile.
The police officer came into the cell area and pulled out his keys. “My sergeant said to release your brother. We’ve got two witnesses at the apartment complex who saw a tall, husky guy wearing a ski mask fleeing the scene in a Ford Bronco.”
“That’s the guy who ran out of Stuart’s apartment,” Quinn said.
“Also, Detective Issacs called and confirmed that you’re working with him.” The officer unlocked the cell door. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Quinn stepped out of the cell and extended his hand to Billie. “Unless you want to stay and finish your book.”
“Wise guy.” She grabbed his cool, firm hand and he pulled her to her feet. “Thanks.”
A tender smile eased across his lips. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
Quinn didn’t talk much during the car ride to the resort. They’d picked up his car at Stuart’s apartment and she rode with Quinn, while Joe followed close behind.
When they got to the resort Quinn did a thorough search of the apartment to make sure no one had been inside, then left to spend the night in a guest room.
Monday morning came and his mood improved a bit, but he still seemed withdrawn and pensive. He joined her for tea and fresh fruit at eight. He looked handsome in his navy suit and cream-colored shirt open at the neck. She wondered if he had business appointments today.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asked.
“Sure,” he answered, not looking at her.
“Quinn, what’s bothering you?”
He shot her a look.
“Other than the obvious,” she added.
“Stuart found a box belonging to your husband, which is why he asked me to come by. Detective Issacs is bringing it over this morning for you to look through.” He forked a strawberry but didn’t eat it.
“And?”
He glanced up with tired, blue eyes. “Stuart said something before he...” His voice trailed off. “He said they wouldn’t stop until they found you. It’s like you have something or know something.” He sighed. “I don’t know anymore.”
“Then I’ll have to try harder to remember something that will help us.”
“Those aren’t good memories. I hate seeing you in emotional pain,” he said.
She wanted to tell him if that were the case he’d stop pushing her away, but that was a conversation for another time.
“I appreciate that,” she said.
He glanced at the phone on his belt and stood. “I’d better take this.”
“As long as you don’t ditch me again,” she said.
With a slight smile, he wandered to the sliding door. “Cody, how’s it going, buddy?” He went out onto the patio and shut the door.
She noted how tired Quinn looked, how beaten. It was almost as if he thought he’d already failed. But he hadn’t. He’d kept Billie safe for the past week. Without him she’d be...
A shudder ran down her arms. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened if Quinn hadn’t made her welfare his priority. But was he motivated by his promise to Rick? Maybe at first, but something real had grown between them, and no matter how determined he was to fulfill his obligation and disappear from her life, she was just as determined to make him see it was okay to embrace their love.
“One thing at a time,” she whispered to herself. First they’d solve the case and put Rick’s disastrous decisions behind her. Then, somehow, she’d work on getting through to Quinn. She’d left him five months ago because she couldn’t stand being pushed away when she knew, deep down, that he cared about her.
Someone knocked on the door. She went to answer and spotted Detective Issacs through the peephole. She opened the door.
“Good morning, Detective.”
“Billie.”
She motioned him into the living area. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“No thanks.” He slid the box onto the dining room table and scanned the living room. “What, no Quinn?”
“He’s on the patio taking a call.”
“Good, I’m glad he’s here.”
“Why’s that?” She started pulling items out of the box.
“Because I need to have a serious talk with that man.”
“About?” She pulled out an old, empty, man’s wallet.
“About me getting him out of lockup when I should have left him there for interfering with an ongoing investigation.”
She snapped her attention to the detective. “He wasn’t interfering. Stuart called him about the box.”
“And Quinn should have called me, but he didn’t. Maybe if he had we would have caught the guy.”
“You can’t blame Quinn for—”
“I gave him an order to call me if anything developed with the case and not go off half-cocked on his own. But he didn’t listen, and now a man’s dead.”
“You can’t blame Quinn for Stuart’s death.”
“Sure he can,” Quinn said, stepping into the room.
She looked from Quinn to the detective, and back to Quinn.
“If you’d called me, I might have made it to the apartment that much sooner,” Detective Issacs said. “Stuart might still be alive.”
“You’re right,” Quinn said. “I should have notified you.”
“I’m glad we agree. So, now you’ll understand why I’m taking over protective custody of Billie and ordering you to distance yourself from this case.”
“No, wait, don’t I get a say here?” Billie argued.
Detective Issacs turned his attention to her. “Of course, but keep in mind, Quinn’s inexperience has repeatedly put you in danger and his arrogance won’t allow him to work with a team. Is this the kind of man you want to depend on for your life?”
“Yes,” Billie said.
“You’re not thinking rationally,” the detective countered.
“Excuse me?” Billie said.
“Billie, he’s right,” Quinn said from across the room.
He was keeping his distance, which was worrying her even more.
“Quinn, if it weren’t for you—”
“They might have solved the case by now. This whole thing has been mishandled on my part.” He nodded at the detective. “I’ll remove myself from the investigation. Billie’s free to stay in my apartment. I’ll be leaving town tomorrow.”
FIFTEEN
Billie wanted to grab Quinn by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Not a smart move considering the detective had accused her of being irrational. He’d probably call her downright crazy if she did that.
She knew what was happening. The detective, like Quinn’s stepmother, had pressed Quinn’s button, the one that made him feel worthless, like a failure.
Billie turned her attention away from the men and started going through Rick’s items, trying to stay calm. Yet the thought of Quinn leaving increased her desire to solve this case, because only then could she challenge him about his feelings for her.
About the love she knew he felt as strongly as she.
She focused on the contents of the box, mostly paperwork, in the hopes of finding something critical to the case. After all, if Rick had hidden the box with Stuart, it must contain things he didn’t want Billie knowing about. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Quinn cross the room.
“Quinn, I could use your help interpreting some of this paperwork,” she said.
He f
roze midway through the living room and glanced at the detective.
“Go ahead,” Issacs said. “Did you say you had coffee?”
“There’s a pot on in the kitchen.” Quinn sat down next to Billie.
She handed him a file folder and their hands touched. Her breath caught at the expression on his face. She’d never seen anyone look so utterly lost.
“What am I looking for?” he said.
“You’re asking me? I’m just the wife,” she joked.
Quinn paged through legal documents. She leaned closer to read the paperwork. “What’s that?”
“Apparently Rick bought a boat?”
“That’s news to me.”
She pulled out a manila envelope and sorted through old photographs of her and Rick, their first apartment, their five-year wedding anniversary. She shoved her melancholy aside and kept digging.
And that’s when she found a strange key on an insurance company’s keychain. “Okay, this is weird.” She held it out to Quinn.
“What’d you find?” Detective Issacs said, coming into the room.
“A random key,” Billie said.
“And apparently Rick Bronson owned a boat,” Quinn offered. “Wonder if that’s where he stashed the stolen property.”
“Any idea where it’s docked?” Issacs looked over Quinn’s shoulder.
“Not yet.”
Detective Issacs yanked his phone off his belt. “Great,” he muttered as he took the call. “Issacs.”
He motioned to Quinn and Billie that he was going into the hallway for privacy. The door slammed shut, leaving her and Quinn alone.
Not now, Billie, she reminded herself.
She redirected her attention to the pile of photos in front of her.
“That must be hard,” Quinn said, nodding at the photographs.
“A little. But it’s important to remember the good times,” she said, flipping over a photo of Rick and Stuart standing in front of a cabin.
“Quinn, I recognize this photo from Stuart’s place. Remember what Stuart said about them staying at a friend’s cabin? What if it belonged to Rick?” She dangled the key between them. “What if this is the key to the cabin?”
“But how are we going to find it in thousands of acres of national forest?”
She nodded at the photograph. “I think I might know where this is. That’s why it bothered me before.” She pointed to the photo. “I recognized this vista from when Rick and I went camping once. I meant to tell you about it last night but got distracted. Rick disappeared on me in the middle of the night and returned all hyped up. It was weird.”
The detective knocked on the door and Quinn let him in.
“I don’t know how this happened, but my suspect made bail,” Detective Issacs said.
“The bearded man?” Billie said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But how—”
“Money, that’s how,” Issacs cut off Quinn.
“Well, I think we might have a lead.” Billie showed the detective the photograph. “This same photo was at Stuart’s place. I recognize this spot. Rick and I camped in that area and he mysteriously disappeared for a few hours one night. This could be where Rick was hiding the stolen goods.”
“The bearer bonds,” Issacs hushed. “I’ll get a team assembled to investigate the cabin. Can you point it out on a map?”
Billie shook her head. “We didn’t need a map. Rick knew where he was going.”
“Do you think you can lead us there?”
“Wait a second,” Quinn stood. “You’re not seriously considering taking her out there. Talk about an easy target.”
“We’ll have plenty of manpower to protect her, don’t you worry,” Issacs said.
Billie could tell Quinn wasn’t convinced.
“First things first. Let’s find the boat,” Issacs said. “If the bearer bonds are stashed there, we’ll have no reason to find the cabin.” He pulled out his phone. “Oh, and we won’t be needing your private security anymore, Donovan. Our department can protect her just fine.”
* * *
It was happening too fast. By one in the afternoon Issacs had assembled a small team to escort Billie into the mountains.
Quinn had hoped they’d find the bearer bonds on the boat, but no luck.
He stood outside the resort watching two cops and Issacs pack gear into the truck for the hike. Maybe Quinn was a screwup and kept putting Billie in danger, but he only felt confident that she was okay when he could actually see her.
When he was with her, looking into her big brown eyes.
“Don’t look so worried,” she said, approaching him. “I’ll be with police officers.”
“It’s a habit I guess, worrying about you.”
“Won’t you be glad when that’s over?” she teased.
But Quinn wasn’t smiling. When this was over and he walked away—
“Ready?” Issacs called out to Billie.
Quinn placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got your personal locator beacon, right?”
She slipped it out of her pocket. “Nothing’s going to happen, Quinn. And once this is finally over, you and I need to have a talk, okay?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go!” Issacs got into the front seat.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, quickly turned and went to the waiting truck. Quinn clenched his fist, feeling frustrated and utterly helpless. He wanted desperately to go along on this mission, and was peeved that Issacs didn’t have more men accompanying them into the mountains. In Quinn’s mind she could be hiking with a dozen law enforcement officers and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Quinn wouldn’t feel confident of Billie’s safety until she was back home.
Home, as in Quinn’s apartment. The place had only started feeling like a home since Billie moved in. Her essence, her positive energy and sense of humor filled his place with light and love.
And God. There, he’d admitted it: it was the first time he’d felt God’s presence in his life.
The trucks pulled out and she waved from the backseat. He waved back, ignoring the pit growing in his stomach. Anxiety settled low, apprehension that he’d never see her again.
Aiden walked over to Quinn. “Hey, when you’re done here I’ve got—”
“I’m done.” Quinn ripped his gaze from the disappearing trucks and addressed his friend. “How can I help?”
“We’re having some computer issues and the IT guy won’t be in the area until tomorrow night. You want to give it a try?”
“Of course.”
An hour later Quinn had identified the kink in the system and rebooted the computers. It had been time well spent, an hour of intense focus that distracted him from the tension twisting his gut into knots over Billie’s safety. He had no reason to be anxious, he kept telling himself. Billie was in good hands.
He went to his place to make lunch. The moment he opened the door, he missed her. The apartment reeked of Billie from the neatly stacked magazines on his coffee table, to the teacup sitting on his kitchen counter. Even her floral scent lingered in her absence.
Man, he needed another project, another crisis to take his mind off Billie.
He opened the refrigerator and froze at the sight of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich covered in plastic wrap on the top shelf. A bright sticky note lay on top: Enjoy with sliced apple. Love, Billie
He shut the door. Love? Sure, why not. She was a thoughtful and compassionate woman who was motivated by love in most everything she did. He decided to save the sandwich for later and distract himself with work.
He checked email and made a few calls. It felt good to dive into work, even if his heart wasn’t totally into it.
Twenty minutes later he lost focus, so he headed into the kitchen to sa
vor the sandwich she’d made him. He grabbed it from the refrigerator and pulled off her note, placing it in his pocket with a smile. Leaning against the counter, he took a bite. It was the most delicious sandwich he’d ever tasted, and he’d eaten plenty as a kid. Without a loving mother around to care for him, Quinn had learned early on to care for himself, to make his own lunches and sign his own permission slips for school.
He smiled at the sandwich in his hand. It tasted so good because it was made with love, for him, by an amazing woman.
Someone knocked on the apartment door. Quinn put the sandwich down and went to open the door. Cody, with his right arm in a sling, stood in the doorway.
“Hey, man, it’s great to see you,” Quinn said.
“It’s great to be seen.”
“Come on in. I was eating lunch.”
“Don’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not. It’s just me and my PB and J. I’ll make you one if you’re hungry, although it probably won’t taste as good as Billie’s.”
“How’s she doing, anyway?” Cody glanced into the living room.
“She’s good. Not here.”
“That’s surprising. I didn’t think you’d let her out of your sight until this case was done.”
“It was about time the police stepped up to take the lead.” Quinn grabbed his plate and headed to the dining table. They both sat down. “How’s the shoulder?”
“Better. What’s happening with the case?”
“Police think Rick Bronson’s associates are trying to find bearer bonds he’d absconded with from a Vancouver burglary. They’re trying to track down a cabin where Rick may have hidden the stuff he kept for himself.”
“That guy was a piece of work. Stealing from thieves? That’s asking for a world of trouble.”
“Yeah, well, desperation will make a man do incredibly foolish things.”
Cody glanced sideways at him. “We are talking about Rick Bronson, right?”
Quinn didn’t answer.
“Quinn?”
“In my own desperation to protect Billie, I made some mistakes. The detective clearly pointed that out, so I agreed to remove myself from the case.”
Mountain Pursuit: Smoky Mountain Investigation ; Mountain Rescue Page 37
