“He broke off! He’s heading north on Green Bay.”
Quinn swiveled around to try and catch the license plate. “I’ve lost him.” Traffic was too heavy to immediately U-turn.
“We’re pushing to catch him.”
“He’ll likely be heading to the Edens.”
“Dave’s diverting now. I’ll keep coming up Green Bay.”
Quinn pulled into Tudor Court and turned back north.
They spent the next twenty minutes with the three cars crisscrossing the area looking for the Plymouth.
“Marcus, I’ll meet you at the 7-Eleven on Route 68 and Pfingsten,” Quinn finally called, ending the search.
“Two minutes.”
Quinn parked and shut off the car but left the radio on. “Lord, what now?” he asked, seeking wisdom he didn’t have. The tension was just beginning to drain away. It wasn’t the danger of the threat so much as the unknown of what he was dealing with, the realization Lisa had been brought into its periphery.
He hated his job at times. It was rare to get so angry, but fatigue and frustration were combining. “Lord, I’m tired of dealing with tails and uncooperative witnesses and threats that come veiled and not so veiled. How long are You going to leave me chasing leads that go nowhere?”
His future should have been clear. Instead, he felt like he was having to live life one day at a time, constantly reacting. He had to figure out what had happened to Amy and his father. He desperately needed the closure.
“I want to go back to ranching full time, Lord.” He rarely let himself admit how much internal pressure had developed. He had hoped getting back to the ranch for a month during his vacation would help ease that pressure and push off the decision for a few more months.
He returned the Glock to its holster with a sigh.
He really didn’t need this happening tonight. A year ago getting tailed would have been just one more thing in life to roll with. Tonight—Quinn picked up his hat and rolled the brim in callous hands. He was going home. He was letting go. Even if it meant leaving the man who had killed his father free.
The sadness of that was overwhelming. But it was time.
Lisa. Quinn’s hand tightened around the rough fabric as he frowned. She was hurt. She was going to have Kate and Marcus—for all the right reasons—pushing her out of her comfort zone. She struck him as needing a friend. And he was lousy at walking away in those circumstances.
She wouldn’t be thrilled if he stuck around; he would feel guilty if he left. “Lord, I didn’t need this either,” Quinn muttered, checking the mirror as car headlights swept across the window. The car turned in the opposite direction; it wasn’t Marcus.
He’d been a Christian a long time, but some of his friends were not Christians. It was a dichotomy he had accepted over the years as the place God had put him. He couldn’t be a light among a sea of candles. It wasn’t a comfortable place to rest, constantly having to tug a dark world toward God while not getting sidetracked by it.
He was forty-four. The days he wanted to hang around entirely with guys were long gone. If he had to take extra care in how he was friends with a woman, then he would find and watch that line, make that extra effort. Having friends in L.A. he could call when he was in town, someone in Dallas, someone in Chicago—they made it possible to accept the other drawbacks that came with a profession that sent him around the country.
And if over the years he’d bought more than a few wedding gifts—well at least he had the good sense to choose wonderful ladies to be his friends.
Quinn wasn’t going to get romantically involved with someone he couldn’t marry—he’d already had a lifetime of dreams not coming true. He wasn’t about to let himself head down a road that before he took the first step he knew would not lead anywhere. Life was about choices, the toughest ones involving where he put his time.
During the last year Jennifer had come to believe, then Kate and Marcus. There was hope for Lisa. Distant, but there. She would be his friend either way—
Car headlights reflected across the mirror and this time the car pulled into the parking lot.
Marcus pulled into the parking space beside him and got out of his car to circle to the passenger side, leaning against the side of it. Quinn rolled down his window. Marcus crossed his arms across his chest as he thought about the situation, then looked over at Quinn. “Someone looking for you? Three times—he’s tracking your movements. Why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. If he was looking for a chance to deliver a message, he’s already had it. And if he’s watching for someone else—well he’s not a professional. Have you noticed someone following you?”
“No.”
“Just me. Wonderful. I didn’t exactly advertise I was coming to Chicago.”
“Amy Ireland?”
“Maybe, but why? It was a dead end. She’s Canadian, not even the person I was looking for.”
“You made the newscast when the house collapsed and Lisa was airlifted to Mercy General. Someone saw you were in town.”
“It makes about as much sense as anything.”
“Watch your back in the morning, and check the car before you turn the key. We’ll run the release sheets in the morning, see who’s out there with a grudge.”
“Sorry I interrupted the game.”
Marcus smiled. “Don’t be. Jack looked relieved. I’ll shadow you back to the hotel.”
“Lisa?”
“Dave was going to swing back by. Relax. If trouble did come calling, no one would get past Kate.”
“True. Still—” Quinn started the car. If it weren’t for the fact he’d possibly be bringing danger back to her subdivision, he’d go watch Lisa’s house for the night.
Marcus pushed away from his car. “Next time, back up into him. A car accident would be appropriate in the circumstances.”
“Believe me, I was tempted.”
Quinn headed back to the hotel, Marcus driving a few cars behind. Quinn slowed to pull into the hotel parking garage and Marcus lifted a hand in farewell and pulled past him. Quinn hesitated, then started circling toward the top floor. He’d seen the results of more than one car bombing in his lifetime. If he missed something during the check in the morning, better to blow up the roof than the basement.
Six
“What time is it out there?”
Lisa reluctantly admitted the truth. “Four A.M.” Jennifer chuckled softly. “I’ll send you some of my dawn. It’s gorgeous. My hospital room faces east. And you were prescribed sleeping pills for a reason. Take them next time.”
Lisa had lain awake long enough the shadows in the bedroom had become furniture and clutter, the open sliding doors to her closet creating the only cave of blackness left undeciphered. This Wednesday, her second morning back home, was starting much as her first: The sleep she wanted refused to come. If she tried to get up she’d wake Kate, who was sleeping in the second spare room down the hall. So she had lain here letting one sister sleep, thinking about another, until the clock finally made it unseemly early only on the East Coast.
“The last guy I saw who took sleeping pills burned alive in a fire.” She didn’t mean to be morbid, but Jennifer was the one person in the family who not only understood but also expected to hear the truth about what was going on.
“Doozy of a nightmare?”
“In spades.” Lisa shifted uncomfortably, the two bandages hurting and the pressure on her back reigniting the sensation of fire inside her chest. “The scars are a mess. I took a shower for the first time last night; the stitches look like they were done by a guy with a fishhook, and those are just the ones I can see in the front. I don’t even want to think about my back. I do a better job on a cadaver after an autopsy than he did on me.”
“He was in a bit of a hurry. You were bleeding to death on him.”
“Well, I hate to think what he’d have done if he had to crack my chest and go after something vital. I’ve already got enough displaced ribs barking at me.”
“Lizzy, I saw a faxed copy of the chart. That bar hit practically everything vital there is inside you. Go swallow another painkiller.”
“I already did. They make me dopey.”
“The scars will heal, the bright redness will fade.”
“I’m complaining.” She didn’t complain, not normally. She hated feeling this way.
“You’re allowed.” The empathy traveled a thousand miles. Lisa knew Jen was hurting too; the radiation pellets they had inserted to deal with the cancer around her spine were being removed a few at a time this week, lest they so decay the vertebra in her spine it collapsed.
“How’s Quinn?”
Lisa groaned. “Sticking like a shadow.”
Jen laughed. “I really like that guy.”
“He’s okay.”
“Uh-huh. If you like handsome, sweet, thoughtful, and tough.”
“Try strong-willed, stubborn . . . ” The normal list that came so easily to mind petered off; it was habit now more than meant.
“You like him,” Jen said softly.
“Yeah. Some.”
The silence stretched, that of old friends and open hearts.
“Lizzy, I promise the right guy won’t mind the scars.”
“Tell me again why we are up at the crack of dawn?”
“I want to go to work.”
Kate paused in pulling on her tennis shoes. “That’s what I thought you said. I think you need to see another doctor. One to look at your head.”
“I’m not spending another day stuck here bored out of my mind,” Lisa replied, not feeling up to facing another sister with the truth. Kate was just annoyed because she never liked mornings; she’d get over it.
Dave had come over again last night. She’d heard Kate and Dave whispering, then heard the TV in the living room come on as they found a late movie to watch. She hadn’t heard Kate turn in until well after 1 A.M. “If you want me to drive myself—”
“No. I’ll take you. But couldn’t you wait for something like the actual sunrise?”
“Not if I’m going to talk to Greg. He gets off at eight, and he’s working the triple homicide/suicide from Pilsen. I want in.”
Kate pushed fingers through her hair to straighten it, reached for her pager, and clipped it onto her belt. “You could ease back into work, you know, take it slow. Marcus will read you the riot act if you dive back in and overdo it.”
Kate was right, but she wasn’t going to let it change her plans. “How would you feel if someone sidelined you for part of a month?”
“Okay. Valid point. But I’m not leaving without coffee.”
Shifting the cane to her other hand, Lisa turned toward the bedroom door and glanced back to grin at Kate. “It’s already made. You can carry mine to the car for me.”
Her sister laughed. “Head toward the car. I’ll catch up.”
Lisa took her at her word and walked down the hall, stopping in the dining room to dump her purse on the table. She pushed her keys into her pocket along with her staff ID, a credit card, and twenty dollars. She’d do without something to carry today.
Walking down the sloped driveway with caution, she unlocked the passenger door and slid her cane in the back, then eased herself into the car. She gingerly turned, wishing she had thought to bring out a pillow for her back. As the muscles stretched, she gritted her teeth at the pain. She stopped moving and it eased off.
Kate joined her, carrying two blue thermal travel mugs, the bases of the cups designed for the car’s cup holders.
Lisa accepted hers with a thanks and wisely stayed silent as Kate got settled and started the car. Lisa didn’t think her sister would appreciate an observation on how pretty the sunrise was this morning. Its beauty was hiding the coming reality; the day was predicted to be unseasonably warm, in the nineties with high humidity. It meant there would be several heat deaths today.
Kate slowed at a stop sign in the subdivision.
“Stop, Kate. That’s Walter Hampton.” Lisa recognized the white-and-blue truck of Nakomi Nurseries. “I want to say thanks for the flowers and the visit.”
“Lisa.”
“Stop.”
Kate pulled to the side of the road.
The house on the corner had sold recently to a young couple from San Diego; they had moved in last month. There were several trees on a flatbed truck along with several bushes and rolls of sod. Walter was working on digging out part of a prior rock garden along with three other workers. They were obviously trying to get the most physical part of the work done and the plants in the ground before the heat of the day arrived. Lisa wasn’t that surprised to see Walter out working with one of his crews; he had struck her as more of a doer than an office manager.
Lisa unbuckled her seat belt and carefully reversed her movements to get out of the car.
Walter had seen her; he set down his shovel to walk down the yard. They met halfway. “Miss O’Malley.” His smile was genuinely pleased.
“It’s good to see you, Walter.”
“You’re looking much better on your feet.”
“I’m recovering fine. How’s your wrist?” Walter had been walking back to the house when the beam collapsed, had helped Quinn dig her out.
He flexed it. “Almost good as new.”
“I wanted to say thanks for the flowers. They were lovely. And numerous.” He had sent a bouquet every day.
“I had a greenhouse full just waiting to brighten your day.”
“They were appreciated. How is your family?”
“My brother Christopher is having a rough time of it, and my aunt Laura is now complaining that Egan doesn’t visit her anymore. Personally, it feels good to be back at work. We’re coping in our unique ways.”
“I’m returning to work myself.”
“I’m glad for you.”
She looked over the scope of what he was undertaking, impressed. “The yard will look wonderful when it’s complete.”
“I hope so. It’s a vision in my head at the moment; we’ll see if I can make it appear.”
“It looks like you got an early start.”
“In this business, 4 to 6 A.M. is best; you don’t want to be stuck in traffic with a couple ten-foot white birch trees.” He nodded toward the car. “Heading downtown? There’s construction on the Edens south of Winnetka today.”
“One of the reasons for my early start.”
“You’d best be heading that way then.” He wiped the dirt from his hands on his jeans. “Can I give you a hand back to the car? The ground’s a bit unlevel.”
“I wouldn’t turn one down. The cane makes me feel a bit old before my time.” She walked back with him.
Lisa settled back in the car and introduced her sister. Walter nodded a greeting across to her. A final good-bye, and they pulled back onto the road. “Has that case closed?” Kate asked.
“Yes.”
“It looks like the nursery does a good job, though I’m surprised to see them in your neighborhood.”
“You should have seen the size of the Nakomi Nursery grounds, they must do business around the entire Chicagoland area. Walter strikes me as a hard-working guy who loves the business he’s in. Expanding it would be the natural thing to do.”
“For someone you’ve met three times, you’ve got a definite opinion of him.”
“The flowers he sent from his greenhouses were picked on the optimal day to last as long as possible in a vase, and did you notice the patch of yard they were getting ready to sod? Someone took the time and care to leave a twelve-inch patch of grass around a wild violet in an area otherwise stripped and prepped for the sod. I have a feeling that was the work of the boss.” Lisa bet the flower would be taken home and potted at the end of the day. It showed the business was more than just a job.
She reached for her coffee and wondered if she had the endurance for a half day at work. She hoped she did. She was pushing it to return to work this early, but it was the one place she could lose herself and put
the accident behind her. She needed her life back.
“Have you thought any more about what we were talking about last night?”
Kate was watching the road. There was nothing offhand about the question even though Kate’s body language was trying to convey that impression.
Kate had been her usual direct self last night, wanting to talk about the Bible passage in John she had been reading. Half the family had become Christians in the last three months—Jennifer, Kate, Marcus—and it was making for some sincere, heartfelt, but awkward family conversations.
Kate was passionate about her new faith. Excited. Like most new Christians, she was trying to convince everyone around her to believe too. Lisa didn’t have to wonder what motivated her actions. Kate cared. Lisa couldn’t fault her for that. But she wasn’t interested.
In another month the excitement would fade, the subject would get dropped.
In a family with few secrets, there were still some things about her life before Trevor House that Lisa had kept private.
During her years in various foster homes she had attended Lutheran, Catholic, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches. As a child she had been exposed to religion more than most of them. A typical Sunday school teacher did not expect to get grilled on the various points of theology by a fourth grader.
They had all tried to answer her, surprised by her questions and the depth of what she wanted to know. They had all given good answers based upon what their denominations taught. Lisa’s problem had been that while the answers were similar, they weren’t the same.
When she had probed to ask why, each said the other perspectives were well-meaning but wrong. Trying to end the confusion had only increased it. Even as a child she had hated feeling like she was being humored. And over the years, adults tended to dismiss the confusion as just a fact of life . . . she had never been able to accept that.
Kate, Jennifer, and Marcus becoming active in a church hadn’t been that big a deal before the accident. Lisa had listened and watched the three of them, respecting the change yet keeping her distance from the topic.
Since nearly getting killed, there was a conspiracy ongoing among the three of them to get her to believe too, and she was getting tired of it. About the only one who hadn’t been pushing the subject of religion recently was Quinn. He believed, but it was different when she was with him. The few times the subject of religion had come up it hadn’t felt like she had to be defensive. She frowned slightly at that thought and forced her attention back to Kate. “No, I can’t say I’ve thought about it.”
The Truth Seeker Page 6