locked the door.
Shane sniffed. Quinn didn’t care for the sound. It indicated her brother didn’t have a high opinion of the new guy in town.
The new guy who happened to be secretly engaged. To me.
“Nice dog,” she murmured.
“I like dogs.” Shane’s voice remained level. “Better than cops and better than FBI agents.”
West did a fine job of ignoring them both sitting across the street and staring at him.
“What do you think of him? I mean, he’s an FBI agent, but he seems okay.” She tried to keep the question casual, but couldn’t help peeking at West as he stopped to enter the small boutique where she knew he liked to buy Rex treats.
Shane shrugged. “I try not to think. He’s FBI, and feds aren’t any better than cops.”
“Our brother,” she began.
“Wasn’t talking about family.” Shane’s too-observant gaze sharpened. “You certainly seem interested in Agent Brand.”
Uh-oh. Quinn gave a little laugh. “It’s a small town. New people are always fascinating. And these days, I can’t afford to alienate potential customers.”
“He doesn’t seem like the organic type.”
Oh, I don’t know. He sure did like that farm-raised honey he put on me two nights ago when we...
“You okay? You’re blushing.” Shane finished his water.
Quickly she fanned herself. “Fine. Just hot.”
“It’ll rain soon. Cool things off.”
“I hope it doesn’t destroy the crime scene and the evidence.”
Her brother cocked his head. “Now you’re sounding like a cop. What gives?”
Quinn busied herself with cleaning the table. West’s lingo had filtered into her life. Soon she’d be talking in acronyms like he did. She needed to be more careful.
“Just a concerned citizen who wants things to return to normal, so I can stay in the town I love.”
Shane sighed. “Don’t go making any hasty decisions yet. You need money?”
Deeply touched, she shook her head. “The Larsons gave me an extension.”
Now her brother looked mighty angry. “Those rip-off artists are cons, Quinn. Don’t trust them. Extension today on the rent, double the price tomorrow.”
“I’m fine.” She waved him off. “Go investigate someone else.”
To her surprise, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks. See you.”
Inside the kitchen, she looked at the clean counter, the neatly stacked bowls. A kitchen shouldn’t be this tidy. It meant no business. The lunch for the RRPD would help with the smaller bills. But the rent still remained the huge question mark.
I’ll think about that later.
She picked up the envelope she’d received in the mail today and held it to the light. Nothing. Shook it. No telltale sound of something floating. She wished she’d remembered to show it to Shane. She’d have West check it out tonight.
The back door opened and Austin walked through.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I had to set up everything myself at the crime scene for the cops.”
“I went fishing for business. Great news. I found us a gig for tonight. Yoga studio is hosting an open house and they need gluten-free hors d’oeuvres and fruit smoothies for two hundred potential clients. We need to be in Sullivan Falls by nine tonight.”
Delight turned into dismay. “That’s forty miles away!”
“And they promised cash on delivery. So let’s hustle.” He pushed his glasses up his thin nose. “Plus some free lessons. You could use a little flexibility to loosen up.”
Quinn set down the envelope for later, along with the pile of bills. They had work to do, and money was tight.
* * *
It had been a hell of a day and he was exhausted.
Shortly after midnight, West parked his truck in the usual spot, the parking garage one street over from Main, and ducked down a back alley leading to Quinn’s shop. He went through the service entrance, skirting the green Dumpster. Rex, who normally stopped to sniff around the garbage, loped eagerly alongside him and darted inside as he opened the door with his key.
“Yeah, you’re as beat as I am,” West murmured to his dog, bending down and scratching behind his ears after he locked the door. “How about some treats?”
Part of Rex’s training involved food. Rex never ate from a bowl because each time he found explosives while training, West fed him. But he also gave him treats after a long day.
Upstairs, he found the dog biscuits Quinn had hidden in her pantry just for Rex. Leaving Rex to happily munch, he headed into the bedroom.
Sitting at her antique dressing table, Quinn brushed her curls. West felt a tug inside as he watched. He adored the way her mouth softened as she gazed into the mirror, and how it sparked when she caught sight of him.
As if he were the only one in her world who could light her up inside.
Leaning against the doorjamb, he watched her, all the day’s tension sliding off him. “You didn’t have to wait up for me, sweetheart.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Grabbed a sandwich in town.”
Her gaze twinkled. “I like waiting up for you. I like watching you, too. Saw you on Main when I was sitting outside with my brother.”
“You were eyeballing my very fine ass,” he teased.
The ensuing blush assured him she did the very thing. “It’s quite nice to watch. Long day?”
“The worst. But it’s better now that I’m here with you.” His voice went husky. “You make all my troubles go away.”
Except the biggest trouble, and that was finding Demi Colton. Finding the truth about her. Today’s explosion deeply worried him, and not simply because he’d ignored the warning sign this morning.
Explosions like that from TATP bombs indicated professionals. Someone intended to do much, much worse. And there was no way to predict where, and when. If Demi Colton did have a hand in it, he needed to know ASAP if Quinn and her brothers were hiding intel on their runaway sister.
“Can you believe Devlin Harrington is offering a hundred thousand to capture my sister?” she asked.
Careful now. West considered. “He seems all about the money. What’s he really like?”
“Rich. Powerful. Very nice when you meet him. He started dating my cousin Gemma a few months ago. That’s what the gossips say.” Quinn sighed. “I’m not close to Gemma. Unlike me, she’s from the right side of the tracks.”
“And you think you’re from the wrong side? I don’t think so.”
Quinn gave him a wry smile. “Being the daughter of Rusty Colton carries a certain stigma in this town, West. Especially with the rich branches of the Colton family like Gemma’s.”
“Maybe, but not from what I’ve seen. People respect you for who you are, honey. And your excellent cooking, even if you make tofu,” he teased back.
He strode behind her and gently took the brush from her hands. West began to brush her hair as she smiled at him in the mirror.
West scanned the items on the table’s polished surface, fishing for an opening to bring up her sister.
“Did