by Susan Stoker
Quint hadn’t been around many blind people—hell, really any blind people—but Corrie oozed competence and independence out of every pore. If she hadn’t spoken up, and hadn’t been carrying a cane, he wouldn’t have known she couldn’t see.
His thoughts turned to her situation. He had no idea what she planned to do after seeing the detective, but hopefully she had somewhere she could go where’d she be safe.
* * *
Quint kept his eye on the door to the interrogation room. After leaving the restaurant, he’d taken Corrie to the station and released her to the care of Detective Algood. Matt was an excellent cop who’d treat her with care and make sure she was comfortable while telling him all she remembered.
He shook his head. Since when did he care if Matt treated someone with care?
Since Corrie. She’d been friendly and funny on the way to the station. He’d given her the “tour” of his cruiser when they’d first gotten in. She’d asked if she could touch the things he was explaining to her. He’d agreed and helped her find and run her fingers over things like the switches for the lights and siren, the laptop, the shotgun safely locked in its holder. The bright smile she flashed him when he let her flick on the siren for a moment lit up her face. Even in the midst of all the shit going on in her life, she didn’t hesitate to show her pleasure in something as simple as riding in a squad car for the first time.
Quint supposed it was because she couldn’t see the world passing by as they drove, but she’d kept her head turned toward him, and had concentrated on him, the entire trip to the station. He’d had her complete attention as he explained proper protocol of things like when to use lights and sirens, and how he’d use the laptop as he hurried his way to a call.
They’d arrived at the station and Quint had asked Corrie to wait in the car and he’d gone around to her side and helped her out, not letting go of her hand as he walked them into the back door of the station. Her hand felt small and fragile in his, although he knew that was a lie. She was strong, if not physically, mentally. After what had happened to both Mackenzie, Dax’s woman, and Mickie, Quint knew being mentally strong was sometimes a better trait to have than simple physical strength.
Luckily, Quint had some paperwork he had to catch up on, so he was able to stay at the station and finish it while Matt spoke with Corrie. He could watch and wait for her to be done and he could help her get to where she was going next. He didn’t even bother to analyze why he wanted to be there when Corrie was finished. He wouldn’t be able to sleep well without talking to her and finding out what her future plans were.
Finally, after a long two hours, the door opened and Matt and Corrie walked out. Matt looked stressed, running his hand though his hair as he looped Corrie’s hand over his elbow and led her down the hall toward Quint.
Quint closed down the report he was working on, knowing he’d easily be able to finish it in the morning, and stood. He met them before they reached his desk.
“Hey, Matt. Corrie.”
“Hey, Quint,” Matt returned. “Thanks for bringing Corrie back in.”
“You get what you need?”
“Maybe. It’s more than we had to start with. I’m going to see what more we can do to find Shaun. We’d already been looking for him, but knowing he was most likely the reason that guy was there puts things in a different perspective. I have a feeling he can shed a lot of light on this case.”
Quint looked at Corrie. He’d thought she was good when she and Matt walked toward his desk, but up close, he could now see the furrows in her brow and the pinched look around her lips.
“You okay, Corrie?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
Quint looked at Matt and raised his chin, asking what was up.
Matt just gazed back at him with a frustrated look on his face and shrugged his shoulders. Quint shook his head at his friend.
“What? I know you guys are talking with that nonverbal man-speak crap. I’m standing right here. It’s rude. I hate when people do that.” Corrie’s voice was a mixture of pissed off and sad at the same time.
Quint immediately felt bad. “Sorry, Corrie. Really. I’m worried about you. I was simply trying to ask my buddy here what was up.”
“You could’ve asked me directly.” Corrie dropped Matt’s elbow and put her arms around her stomach defensively. Her stance made her look uncomfortable and vulnerable.
“You’re right. I should’ve. I’m sorry. Come on, let’s go sit over here.” Quint didn’t bother trying to defend himself. Corrie was right. It was rude. He hadn’t thought so at the time but looking at it from her perspective, he knew he had to change his thinking.
There were a lot of ways he had to change his thinking, he suddenly realized. Just because Corrie was blind didn’t mean she was helpless or clueless. Trying to talk about her, in front of her, when she couldn’t see, was like talking about someone who didn’t speak English in front of them…they’d know you were talking about them but wouldn’t be able to understand what you were saying.
Quint took Corrie’s hand again and led her into a small room. “There’s a chair to your left.” He dropped her right hand and took her left in his and guided it to the arm of the chair. “There’s a desk in front of you and I’m going to go and close the door. It’s private in here, no one can overhear us.”
Corrie nodded and eased herself into the chair. Once she got her bearings, she didn’t fumble or fidget, she just sat and waited for him to return.
Quint closed the door and pulled a seat over so he could sit next to Corrie, and not behind the desk. He didn’t want to be that far away from her.
“So…what’s up? Are you okay? What did Matt have to say?”
Corrie couldn’t stay mad at Quint. She’d been furious when she’d realized he and Matt were “talking” right there in front of her. She’d called him on it and he’d immediately apologized. Most people, when she confronted them on the same thing, tried to make excuses or lied and said they weren’t talking about her right in front of her face. Quint got points for that.
“I’m fine. I told Detective Algood about the threatening phone call. We went over everything that happened that day ad nauseam and here I am. He’s going to see if he can find Shaun and figure out what in tarnation is going on.”
“What about the threat you received?”
“What about it?”
Quint clenched his teeth. He’d never met such a stubborn woman before. This was almost as bad as interrogating someone. “What is he doing about that?”
Corrie shrugged. “There’s not much he can do about it. He’s going to tap my phone; if the guy calls back, it’ll be recorded and we’ll go from there.”
“Where are you staying then?”
Corrie squirmed uncomfortably in her chair for the first time. The detective had asked the same thing and she’d tried to explain. She’d known he hadn’t liked it, and Corrie knew in her gut, Quint wouldn’t either.
“Home. I’m staying at my apartment.”
“Corrie—”
“Really, Quint, it’s fine. Look, I’m sure once whoever it is finds out I’m not allowed to testify, they’ll be appeased. I’ll make sure to lock my door, and I’d already decided to call a security company to install some sort of alarm.”
“Can’t you go somewhere to stay?”
“Like where?”
“I don’t know…a friend’s house? Your parents’?”
“If you were me, would you go to your friend’s or parents’ house if you thought for a second it might put them in danger?” Knowing the answer, Corrie continued. “No, you freaking wouldn’t. My best friend, Emily, and her partner, Bethany, have a little boy. There’s no way in heck I’d put either of them in danger, and I’d rather die myself than bring a killer to their doorstep who might possibly hurt Ethan. He’s only six months old, for goodness sake. He can’t protect himself.”
Corrie was working herself into a full tizzy, and couldn’t see the te
nder look on Quint’s face.
“And my parents? Are you crazy? After all they’ve done for me…after they helped make me independent, you think I’d go running back and ask to hide behind them? No freaking way. I’m fine. Detective Algood is going to figure this out, and everything will go back to normal.”
Corrie was startled out of her angsty ramblings when Quint put his hand on her cheek and turned her head toward him.
“I don’t like it.” His tone didn’t match the words. He sounded amused.
“What’s so funny?” Corrie asked, exasperated.
“Not what you think, obviously.”
“Darn it, Quint.”
“I was just sitting here thinking how endearing you are.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you worked yourself up into a frenzy, but not once did you slip and swear.”
Startled at his words, Corrie could only mumble, “Huh?”
“I swear all the time. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Must be the company I keep. I hope that’s not going to bother you.” Quint knew the words coming out of his mouth were some sort of commitment to this woman he’d just met, but he wasn’t sorry. “I know finding you funny is inappropriate as hell, because the reason you’re saying what you said is anything but humorous, but I thought it was cute and hilarious at the same time.”
Quint’s tone changed with his next words. He got serious and all humor was gone. “But that’s not to say I like your plan. I don’t. Not one bit.” He gently squeezed Corrie’s hand when she opened her mouth to speak.
“That being said—I get it. I do. I wouldn’t want to put my parents at risk either. And you certainly shouldn’t put Emily, Bethany, or Ethan in danger. Have you told your friend what’s going on?”
Corrie shook her head. Oh, Emily knew about the shooting and what had happened of course, she’d stayed at her house right after it happened, but Corrie hadn’t told her about the phone call yet.
“She’s going to insist you stay with her.”
“I know, but I’m going to insist I don’t in return.”
Quint sighed. He didn’t like it. He really didn’t like it. But what could he do? They weren’t dating; he’d just met this woman today. He didn’t have any say in what she did in her life. None. And he found himself hating that.
“Do you have a cell?”
Corrie looked at him as if he had two heads. “Uh, yeah. Everyone has a cell.”
Quint chuckled again. Damn, she was so fucking cute. “I wasn’t sure.”
“Oh, because I can’t see?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, Mr. Cop. I’m going easy on you because I don’t think you’re trying to be discriminatory or a jerk about this. I’m normal. I’m as normal as you. I cook, I clean, I talk on the phone, I even use a computer. I can read, I can tell time, I can pay for my own stuff with real money, I dress myself every morning and manage to color coordinate my clothes with the help of Braille labels. I can play specialized board games and figure out what socks go with which, except if the dryer monster eats them like it always seems to somehow. I’m just like you, Quint. I eat the same, brush my teeth the same, make love the same, orgasm the same, cry, smile, and get pissed…just like you.”
“Will you go to dinner with me later this week?”
“What?” Corrie shook her head. Had she heard him right? She’d just gotten done haranguing him, and he was asking her out?
“Will you go to dinner with me?” When Corrie didn’t immediately answer, he added, “Please?”
“I don’t know…”
“I’ve been attracted to you since I saw you from across the restaurant today. I don’t like doormats, so when you stood up for yourself with that guy who ran into you, I was impressed. I’m even more impressed now. You don’t take crap from me, you’ll protect your friends with everything you have, and you have a slight sarcastic streak. You’re beautiful, you’re a perfect height for me, you call me out on my idiotic bullshit, even when I say it out of a lack of knowledge and not malicious intent. Call me a masochist, but I like the fact you can stand up for yourself with me. You’re not afraid of me, and that’s very refreshing, you have no idea. I want to take you out and get to know more about you. I want to know about all the idiots who you put in their place for acting stupid. I want to know how you can do all those things you just threw in my face. I like you, Corrie. Please let me take you out.”
“Oh. After that passionate speech, I’d be a horrible person if I refused.” Corrie couldn’t think of anything else to say after all that.
Quint smiled, for once glad she couldn’t see his amusement. God, she was so refreshing. She didn’t play games, and he’d never been so attracted to anyone before. “Give me your phone.”
Corrie reached down and grabbed her purse that she’d placed next to the chair when she’d sat and plucked her cell out of the side pocket she always put it in. She held her thumb to the button at the bottom for a few beats to unlock it, then handed it over to Quint.
He didn’t say a word, but Corrie could hear him clicking some buttons on her phone.
“I’m assuming you use the voice feature on here to call people?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, I put myself in as simply ‘Quint’ to make it easy when you want to call me.”
Feeling a bit of her inner snarkiness coming back, Corrie quipped, “I’m going to want to call you?”
She could hear the laughter in Quint’s voice when he responded. “I sure as shit hope so.”
He fiddled a bit more with the phone and she heard his own cell vibrate in the room. “I hope you don’t mind, but I called my cell so I’d have your number too. I’ll program it in later. Here ya go, your phone.”
Corrie held out her hand and Quint put it into her palm. He brought his other hand under hers and clasped her hand with both of his. “I’m worried about you, Corrie.”
She inhaled. She hadn’t been sure if he was going to let it drop or not. Apparently he wasn’t. But it’d been so long since anyone had worried about her, Corrie had almost forgotten what it felt like. She hadn’t lied; her parents had brought her up to be self-sufficient and they hadn’t coddled her at all. Oh, they loved her fiercely, but they wanted her to be independent and able to live on her own. They’d done the best they could for her, and Corrie was thankful as all get out. She wouldn’t be where she was today if her parents hadn’t been so awesome.
Corrie knew Emily worried about her as well, but it was somehow different, especially since Bethany had given birth to their son. They had someone else to worry about now. Their first concern was Ethan, and should always be Ethan.
“I’ll be okay.”
Quint hadn’t let go of her hand. “You’ll call if something doesn’t seem right?”
“Call you? No. I’ll call 9-1-1.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that, but you’ll call me if you’re uneasy, or if you just need someone to talk to?”
“I don’t know you, Quint. Why would I call you?”
“I don’t really know you either, but I’m trying to. I can’t help this worry that’s sitting in the pit of my stomach when it comes to you and this situation. I think about you unable to see, sitting in your apartment, and someone breaking in.”
Corrie started getting mad again and tried to tug her hand out of his grasp. “I told you, I’m not helpless.”
“I know that, Jesus. I do. But I can’t turn this off. My gut is screaming at me that there’s more to this than what we’ve been able to figure out as of yet. I wouldn’t like it if you were a man who was six foot five and a bodybuilder. I’d like to say it has nothing to do with your eyesight, but we’d both know I’d be lying. Corrie, I’ve been a cop for a long time. I’ve learned to listen to my gut. If I honestly didn’t think you could take care of yourself, I’d insist on you going to a motel, or to someone’s house, anyone’s place other than your own. But I can see how self-sufficient you are. That competency practically oozes
out of your pores. But that niggling feeling is still there. So please, for the love of God, call me if something seems off. I can check it out without embarrassing you. Then if it’s nothing, you haven’t felt like you’ve bothered anyone else. Yeah?”
Corrie ran his words over and over in her head. He was right. This was a messed-up situation, and she didn’t like it either. He’d said he was worried about her. It felt good. And she liked him. He wanted to take her on a date. Why the heck was she fighting him about this?
“Okay.”
“Just okay? No other commentary?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Thank Christ.”
She giggled a bit at his response. Quint finally let go of her hand and she turned and put her cell back into the small pocket in her purse.
“Come on, I’m off duty. I’ll take you home.”
Corrie fought the automatic refusal that almost came out of her mouth. She was independent, yes, but it was stupid to refuse a ride. Why shouldn’t she let Quint take her home? She wouldn’t have to call Emily to come pick her up now or take a taxi. She usually didn’t mind using cabs to get around, but with everything that had happened she knew she’d feel safer with him. Besides, she told herself, he’d need to know where she lived if she was going to go on a date with him.
“Okay, I’d appreciate that.” She stood up and held out her hand, smiling at the now familiar feel of Quint’s big hand wrapping around her own. It really was amazing that after thirty-two years, she’d never felt so normal when she was being helped around as she did with Quint. The simple act of taking her hand rather than letting her grab on to his elbow, even though he had no idea he was doing it “wrong,” made her feel as though she was on an actual date, rather than feeling helpless. She liked it. A lot.
Chapter 5
Ding
The loud noise from her phone made Corrie jump what seemed like ten feet. She reached over and pushed the button on her alarm clock to see what time it was. The mechanical voice announced that it was eleven forty-three.
She hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights because of everything that had happened and every little sound now made her jump. She was hyperaware and hated it. Even the normal sounds of her apartment now frightened her. The ice maker in the refrigerator making ice, the sound of the air conditioning turning on and off, even the sound of the automated voice of her clock made her jump. Every sound made her wonder if someone was in the apartment. She’d conditioned herself over the years to almost not even hear the sounds, but not now. Corrie despised it.