He laughed. “That’s great. I really ’preciate that. Am I okay? Come on inside and have a drink with me.”
“I think you’ve probably had enough.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the car. “I would have to drink the ocean for it to be enough,” he said. “Please come drink with me.”
He climbed the stairs unsteadily. When we got inside I marveled, as I always did, how anyone could live for as long as he’d been in this house and leave no trace of himself.
“Can I offer you a Scotch?” he asked. “Or do you prefer wine?” He looked like he was having trouble focusing.
“Wine. I can get it.”
“Naw, I got it. Right here.” There was a collection of bottles on a scarred-up table next to the entrance to his dining room. He picked up a wineglass and frowned at it. I wasn’t sure if the glass was clean or not and he seemed in no shape to make that determination, either. He glanced over at me. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said. “This wasn’t a good idea.”
He was across the room before I knew it, pulling me into his arms. His kiss tasted like fire and it felt like he was pulling the oxygen out of me. I wanted to kiss him as fiercely as he wanted me—but I wanted to be more than just the vessel into which he poured his grief and anger. He must have felt me go tense because he pulled back his head.
“I’m sorry.” He buried his face in my hair. “That was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“It’s okay.” I stroked his hair, still reeling from that kiss. “You were going to get me a drink.”
He dropped his arms and stared into my eyes. The depths in his were vast enough to lose my moorings.
“Do you still want to leave?” he asked.
“I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“I want you to.” He led me over to the couch and got my wine, refilling his glass with Scotch. When he sat down, he pulled me close. This time more brother than lover. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“I called Nic’s brother,” he said. “He’ll fly out here when they release her body and bring her home. I hadn’t talked to him since she and I split.”
“That must have been a tough phone call.”
“Yup.” He picked up my glass and handed it to me. “Now I’m asking. You want me to stay?”
“It’s your house.”
His smile was rueful. “I meant the vineyard. Even though I didn’t do it, there’s going to be a hell of a scandal.”
“There’ll be an even bigger one if you cut and run. It will look like you did it.”
“I suppose.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “about Nicole.”
“Whoever killed her,” he said, “it wasn’t random. She was into something worth killing for. Something she had, something she knew.”
“Do you think she was involved with the break-in at Jack’s place?” I asked. “Even though she was with you that night?”
He shrugged. “I dunno anything anymore. Maybe she was mixed up in it. Set it up or something.”
“Then she had to have a partner. Or partners.”
“Like Noah, Nic believes the world should be two by two. Yeah, she had a partner all right.”
“I guess she never got the Washington wine, after all,” I said.
“If she did she sure wouldn’t have left it lying around the Fox and Hound.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She moved there after she left Shane.”
“You were staying in touch with her? You said the other day she called you and you didn’t call her back.”
“I didn’t call her back.” He ran a finger around the rim of his glass.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. If he was innocent, why so evasive?
“Did she leave a message when she called?”
He shook his head and I could feel things start to unravel. “She had something she wanted to tell me and it had to be in person.”
“Did you tell Bobby this?”
He shook his head.
“Quinn,” I said, “don’t be dumb. You have to come clean about everything. If Bobby finds out—and you know they’ll get her phone records like they did with Valerie—you’re going to be in a hell of a mess.”
He gulped his Scotch and set his glass on the table hard. “I already am.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’ll find out I lied for her once and they’ll figure I’m lying for her again.”
“Because you are! That’s why you have to tell the truth. You can’t protect her anymore. She’s dead.”
“It’s too late.” He covered his face with his hands and moaned softly. “Years too late.”
Chapter 24
Quinn finally fell asleep with his head on my shoulder, an arm thrown across my waist pinning me down. I must have dozed off, too, because the next thing I knew he was shaking my arm. It took a moment before I realized where I was and what I was doing here—and why there was a blanket covering me.
He stood over me, barefoot, unshaven, shirtless, and dressed in a pair of camouflage trousers. Last I remembered he’d been fully dressed and in other pants.
“Lucie? You awake?” He held a coffee mug in one hand.
“I am now.” I sat up, feeling awkward, and surreptitiously checked my own clothes. I was still wearing them.
“Here. Drink this. You feeling all right?” He handed me the mug.
Our fingers touched as I took it and I remembered last night’s kiss. The mug had “Somewhere between Forty and Death” stenciled on it. I wouldn’t turn forty for more than a decade, but given the way I felt at this moment, death didn’t seem that remote.
“I don’t know yet.” I sipped the coffee. It tasted like boiled tires. “What kind of coffee is this?”
“Yesterday’s. I ran out, but there was some left in the pot so I stuck it in the microwave. I figured you could use it.”
“Oh.” Either he was being gallant or I looked as bad as I felt.
He sat on the far end of the sofa. I drank more bad coffee and tried to ignore how good he looked half-naked.
“I owe you an apology for last night,” he said. “I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”
“Why don’t we forget it? You were upset. We both were.” I ran a finger down the side of the ceramic mug. Would he apologize for the kiss, too?
“I, uh, unfortunately don’t remember much except I think I slept on your shoulder. I’m really sorry about that. I hope I didn’t drool on you or anything.”
He wouldn’t apologize because he didn’t remember it. I tried to smile. “Nope. No drooling. And it’s all right.”
“I couldn’t get the sight of Nicole lying there in that field out of my mind. I appreciate you being there for me. I probably said a bunch of things you didn’t need to hear.”
So he’d been thinking about Nicole the whole time. “What are friends for?”
He stood and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I’d better shower and get over to the barrel room. I need to get to work, get my mind off all this.”
“Sure.” I stood, too. “Last night you were kind of rambling. If there’s anything you held back from Bobby, I think it would be a good idea to get it out in the open and tell him, you know?”
He scratched behind one ear. “What kind of things? What did I say?”
“That Nicole contacted you after she moved to the Fox and Hound. And that she might have been involved—indirectly—with the break-in at Jack Greenfield’s place.”
“I said that? Jeez. I really must have been loaded.” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about the break-in at Jack’s. Guess I was running my mouth.”
“You said Nicole left a message for you to call her back, but you didn’t.”
“That I remember.” He began balling and unballing his fists. “Maybe if I had she’d still be alive.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t. And that’s why I got so stinking drunk last night. Because I’ll never know if I could have saved her and I’ve got to live with that.”
“Quinn—”
He held up a hand. “Look, I know I’ve been a complete asshole lately and I’m sorry. Once we get done with the Cab I thought I’d take some time off since it will be quiet around here. Get lost and get past all this. Past her.”