not super tall—maybe six feet, six-one. Big shoulders, narrow waist and hips. Cowboy.”
Quinn arched one eyebrow.
“No, literally a cowboy. He was on the rodeo circuit back in Texas and the Southwest.”
“What’s he doing in Tennessee?”
“I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.”
Quinn looked at her a moment longer with that calm, thoughtful expression that made her feel as if he were trying to hypnotize her. Then he gave a short nod. “Go ahead and get the ice. Don’t worry about Jack Drummond. He won’t be a problem.”
She knew Quinn had the means to protect her from her past. And because he needed the skills she offered when she wasn’t playing office gofer, she knew he’d be diligent about it.
But Quinn couldn’t erase the memory of Jack Drummond’s dark eyes or sexy voice from her brain as she grabbed the clean cooler from the storage closet and started scooping ice into it.
She might hate Jack Drummond’s guts and never want to see him again. But she doubted very seriously she could ever stop worrying about him, now that he’d invaded her world again. Had meeting him here in Purgatory been nothing but a strange coincidence?
Or was something a lot more sinister at work?
* * *
“THE GATES?” HANNAH looked up from wiping Cody’s lunch off his hands and face at Jack’s question. “I wonder if she was talking about Alexander Quinn’s private investigation agency. It’s right here in Purgatory.”
Riley returned from grabbing more napkins from the counter and handed them to Hannah. “What about Alexander Quinn?”
“That private-eye agency he runs now—isn’t it called The Gates?”
“Yeah, it is. Sutton Calhoun works there now.”
“Right.” Hannah made another swipe at the mess Cody had made with his peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. “He used to work at Cooper Security, but I think he was from up this way to begin with.”
Jack tamped down his impatience and kept his tone even. “So The Gates is a detective agency?”
“Yeah. Well, investigations and security, I guess. Maybe your friend Mara works there. You could probably ask that waitress and she could tell you where to find the place.” Riley’s gaze sharpened. “If that’s really what you want to do.”
“I need to give her the money. It’s sitting in my bank, taunting me.”
Hannah’s lips twitched at his description, and he didn’t really blame her for finding his description a bit melodramatic. When his sister-in-law had met him, not long after he’d left Amarillo, he was sober only a couple of months, and the call of the rodeo still roiled in his blood. She’d been in Wyoming on vacation, ended up in the middle of a serial murder investigation and had come close to losing her life.
But Riley had been there, watching her back. Keeping her safe.
Falling in love, after grieving for three long, lonely years.
Jack’s sister Emily had been Riley’s first love. His first wife. Her murder had come damn close to destroying both Riley and Jack, though in different ways.
Riley’s response had been to close himself off to all but a few close friends. And to Jack. But Riley’s growing obsession with solving Emily’s murder had eaten away at Jack’s soul. Solving the murder wasn’t going to bring Emily back. And Emily had been all that was left of Jack’s dysfunctional family.
So he’d gone to Texas, moved his base of operations to a little town just west of Amarillo. He’d buried himself in boots and spurs and rodeo groupies who longed to ride a cowboy a whole lot longer than eight seconds.
Then he’d met Mara Jennings, who was anything but a groupie. Fool that he was, he’d considered her a challenge he couldn’t resist, when he should have run as far and as fast from a woman like her as he could.
The groupies knew the score. They weren’t interested in forever with a cowboy. They just wanted the excitement for a few days out of the year when the rodeo came to town.
Mara Jennings had “forever” written in her pretty blue eyes and winsome smile, and he should have known he’d break her heart.
Hell, maybe he had known it.
He just hadn’t cared at that point in his life.
“I’ve had some dealings with Quinn,” Hannah said thoughtfully as she handed her slightly sticky son to Riley. “I could just casually drop by the agency to say hi, and if you just happened to be with me and your friend just happened to be there—”
“If you just happen to be matchmaking, Hannah, you can forget it. Mara Jennings is not the woman for me. She never was.”
That had been the problem.
“Well, maybe you could tell Quinn about the money you owe her, then,” Hannah said.
“I think I’ll just fly under the radar, if you don’t mind. But good idea about talking to the waitress.” He slid from the booth and headed to the counter, where the waitress was wiping down the surface with a clean rag.
She looked up with a weary smile as Jack stopped in front of her. “Can I get you something else?”
“Actually I could use some directions. I have an old friend who works here in Purgatory at a place called The Gates—ever heard of it?”
“Sure, everybody has. Your friend one of the investigators?”
“Right.” He searched his brain for the name Riley had mentioned. “Sutton Calhoun.”
“Oh, he’s such a nice guy. Real good-lookin’, too.” Darlene’s cheeks grew pink and she shot Jack a sheepish smile. “His wife’s a cop over in Bitterwood. They come in now and then.”
“I thought I’d surprise him at the office, since he doesn’t know I’m in town. Can you point me in the right direction?”
“Well, you’re on the right street, actually. Just take a right when you leave, go a couple of blocks in that direction and you’ll see a big white Victorian mansion right at the corner of Magnolia Street and Laurel Avenue. There’s a pair of large iron gates at the entrance. Can’t miss it.”
Riley and Hannah met him at the door. “What are you planning to do?” Riley asked.
“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “Approaching her directly didn’t do me a lot of good.”
“I hate to mention this,” Hannah said quietly, “but you’re starting to sound a little stalkerish.”
Jack slanted a look at her. “I’m not obsessed with Mara.”
“But you’re about to track her down at her office after she told you to get lost,” Riley pointed out as he picked up Cody and settled his son on his hip. “She doesn’t even seem to remember that you nicked seven grand from her. Maybe you should just let it go, too.”
“And that doesn’t strike you as strange? That she’s forgotten losing seven grand? Mara wasn’t rich. Seven thousand dollars was a lot to her.”
“Maybe she considers it a small price to pay for getting you out of her life.” Riley’s tone of voice was gentle, but the truth behind his words was harsh. Jack couldn’t quite keep from flinching.
“Why don’t you come out fishing with us this afternoon instead?” Hannah suggested. Apparently she’d gotten over her matchmaking urge.
“You know, I think I’ll just wander around town this afternoon. See the sights.”
Riley glanced around the sleepy street in front of them, his eyebrows notching upward. “What sights?”
“Go