by Susan Stoker
She headed out of her office and down the hall, looking forward to being with Quint, no matter the circumstances. She opened the door to the waiting area and stopped, knowing Quint would come to her. Corrie felt a hand at her elbow.
“Hey, sweetheart. You look good.”
Corrie smiled, knowing he was lying, but enjoying his words all the same. “Thanks, but I know better. I’ve been working all day and my hair is probably a mess and I can smell the medicinal lotion on my hands and clothes.”
She felt Quint lean close and whisper in her ear as he ran a hand lightly over her hair. “You look delightfully mussed…it makes me wonder what you’ll look like first thing in the morning. And I’ve grown addicted to whatever lotion you use while you work; one sniff and my body recognizes it as you…and reacts accordingly.”
He moved slightly so she was flush against his side, and even with him wearing his utility belt with all his equipment, Corrie could feel what he meant. She blushed.
Quint chuckled. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get this done. I have plans for tonight.”
“You mean moving up to the next Braille primer?” she teased cheekily. Corrie loved the sound of his laughter.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant,” he drawled sarcastically.
Corrie waved goodbye to Lori and they headed out the door, her hand firmly grasped in Quint’s as they headed for his patrol car.
* * *
“He’s dead.”
Corrie tried not to react, but knew she failed when she heard Quint growl from somewhere behind her. They’d arrived at the police station and had immediately been whisked into a room, where she’d been informed Detective Algood and another man called Conor Paxton had been waiting for them. Quint introduced everyone and he’d settled her into a chair at a small metal desk.
Detective Algood continued. “Conor is a game warden with Texas Parks and Wildlife, and was the one who received the tip about a body being found in Medina Lake. It’s a miracle the body was even discovered; it looks like he was weighted down with plenty of cinderblocks, but he was dumped too close to shore. As you all know, we’re way down in rainfall this year, and someone noticed something dark in the lake. When they investigated more, they saw a foot sticking up out of the water and called the Parks and Wildlife office. Conor went to check it out. Body’s with Calder Stonewall in the medical examiner’s office at the moment; it’s unrecognizable, but it’s looking pretty good that it’s Shaun.”
Corrie inhaled sharply. God, unrecognizable? She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Jesus, Matt. Remember who you’re talking to,” Quint groused.
“Sorry, ma’am. No offense.”
“How can you know it’s Shaun? I mean, if he’d been in the water that long…” Corrie asked tentatively.
“His clothes. His wife told us what she remembered him wearing the last time she saw him, and it matches perfectly.”
“How did he die?”
Conor shared a look above Corrie’s head with Quint. There was no way they’d want to share the horrible details with her. While the body had been decomposed beyond all recognition, it was missing its hands and there were several bullet holes throughout the body—nonlethal holes. One in the knee, one in each bicep, and two through the calves. The fatal bullet was the one in the middle of the man’s forehead. It was obvious he’d been tortured before finally being executed.
“We’re not sure yet, but Calder will figure it out,” Conor said in a soothing, easy voice.
“So what does this mean?” Corrie couldn’t understand why they’d felt it necessary to bring her in to tell her about Shaun.
Detective Algood spoke again. “It means whoever did this never wanted him found. If it wasn’t for the drought in the area it would’ve been a very long time, if ever, before we found the body. It means you could be in danger.”
“But I’ve been in danger since it happened, haven’t I? So what’s different now?”
Quint knew Corrie was smart. He wasn’t happy she’d mostly figured it out so quickly, but he was impressed nevertheless. He knelt down by her side and put a finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. He hated seeing the worried look on her face.
“We assumed Shaun was probably dead, sweetheart. We also assumed the lack of any more threats against you meant they were backing off and leaving you alone. We’re afraid since we found Shaun’s body, and possibly clues, they’ll once again turn their sights to you to try to make sure anything we do find can’t be traced to them. The possibility of you being able to identify them is just another reason for them to be rattled…and pissed off.”
Corrie tried to think through what Quint was telling her. “I still don’t get it. If I can’t testify, and didn’t actually see anyone that night, why would they care about me?”
This was the part Quint had been holding back. “The district attorney hasn’t ruled out you testifying.”
Corrie inhaled sharply. “What? Really?”
“Yeah. With the shooting being on the national news, there’s been a lot of attention focused on the department and the city. She wants to catch whoever did it, and after she heard everything you told Matt about how you could recognize the shooter, she’s contemplating allowing your testimony.”
“Oh my God. Quint…” Corrie reached out a hand. It landed on his chest and she slid it to his bicep. “That’s great news! I wanted to testify from the very start. I know I can pick him out. I just know it.”
Quint didn’t even smile. He was pleased Corrie wasn’t shying away from doing her duty and that she was eager to put the man behind bars who’d killed her friend and the others, but as the man, and cop, who was coming to care for her a great deal, he didn’t like it one bit.
“I know you can too, sweetheart. And so do the bad guys.” He let that sink in. He knew it had when her forehead crinkled in concentration.
“Oh.” She turned to the direction she’d last heard Detective Algood. “So now they’ll want to shut me up too, won’t they?”
Matt nodded, forgetting Corrie couldn’t see him.
Conor answered her question. “Yeah, we think so.”
Quint watched as Corrie literally pulled herself up by her bootstraps and blithely commented, “Okay then. I’ll just have to be more careful.”
He shook his head and half smiled. Jesus, she was cute, but totally clueless. He caught Conor’s gaze and shook his head. Quint would break the news to Corrie.
Conor nodded at him and gave a head tilt to Matt, letting him know it was time to leave.
“I know you guys are talking without talking again,” Corrie said peevishly, crossing her arms over her chest. Then, mumbling under her breath, continued, “I hate that.”
Quint waited until the men had left the room. He pulled the chair sitting on the other side of the table around so it was next to hers. He physically turned the metal chair Corrie was sitting in, wincing as it screeched against the floor, until they were sitting face-to-face, knees touching. He picked up her hands and held them in his own.
“What is it, Quint? Tell me.”
“I don’t think you should stay at your place.”
Panic crossed Corrie’s face before she banked it.
“But I don’t have anywhere to go. I already told you I won’t stay with Emily and Bethany.”
“What about your parents?” Quint knew what her answer would be, but asked anyway. He was purposefully leading her right where he wanted her.
“You know I won’t do that either. Besides, they live up in Fort Worth. I can’t leave Dr. Garza in a lurch like that. I can go to a hotel.”
“There’s no security in a hotel, Corrie. And what about all the other people there?”
“Crud. You’re right. Darn it, Quint. What am I going to do?”
Bingo.
“Stay with me.” Quint held his breath as Corrie absorbed his words.
“But…I don’t…”
“I have a security system. I live in a h
ouse in a subdivision. If there are unknown cars in the area, my seventy-seven-year-old neighbor will let me know. She’s a one-woman crime-stopper team.” While Corrie bit her lip, Quint continued. “I have two extra bedrooms, sweetheart. I have lots of space. I’m not saying I want you to stay in either of those bedrooms, but I’m not going to pressure you. You can stay with me and let me protect you. Once this is over, if you want, we can see where this chemistry between us goes. No pressure. Honestly.”
“I don’t do so good in unfamiliar places.”
Quint sighed in relief. Her hesitancy wasn’t because of him, but because of her nervousness about her lack of sight and his house. He took her hands in his and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs as he spoke. “I know. You said as much when you told me Ian moved in with you rather than you going to his place. Sweetheart, I’m a bachelor. Have been for a long time. I don’t have a lot of stuff. I’ll walk you through my house as many times as you need to learn the layout. We’ll bring over as much of your assistive things as you want. Hell, you can redo my kitchen however you need to. Trust me to take care of you, Corrie. I’m not that douchebag Ian. Trust that I’ll make my home as comfortable for you as yours is. I swear I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’m not easy to live with.”
“It’ll be an adjustment for both of us.”
“You have an extra bedroom?”
Quint’s heart dropped, but he forced himself to say normally, “Yup.”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Thank God.” Quint breathed the words. Not caring that they were in an interrogation room with a two-way mirror, he leaned forward, listening to his gear creak as he moved, and brought Corrie’s mouth to his. He kissed her long and deep, putting the things he hadn’t yet said into his kiss. He finally drew back and looked at her.
Corrie’s hands were on his chest and she had a rosy glow on her face. Even with all that was happening, she was levelheaded and so gorgeous he almost couldn’t believe she was here with him.
“On one hand, I hate this vest you’re wearing because I can’t feel you…but since I know you have it on to protect yourself, I can’t really hate it.”
Quint chuckled. Corrie constantly surprised him.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go tell Detective Algood where you’ll be staying and we’ll go to your place to gather your stuff.”
“This doesn’t mean you’re getting out of your lesson today, buddy.”
Quint pulled Corrie into his side and kissed her temple gently. “I didn’t think it would.” He shifted until he had her hand in his and headed for the door.
“Thank you, Quint.”
He stopped. “For what?”
“For being you. For liking me as I am. For understanding I’m not like other women. For just…everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for liking you and as far as you not being like other women…I thank my lucky stars every day for that. Come on. We have a lot of stuff to do tonight.”
Chapter 11
Corrie sat nervously on the couch in Quint’s house. He’d been very patient with her as she’d decided what she needed to bring to his place, even going so far as to reassure her that if she realized she needed something she’d left behind, he’d be sure to collect it for her as soon as he could.
His house smelled good. Corrie didn’t know what she’d expected it to smell like, but cinnamon wasn’t it. He obviously had air fresheners strewn about to make it so fragrant, but Corrie wasn’t complaining.
He’d held her hand and brought her straight to his sofa and told her to hang tight there while he brought in the rest of her things. She’d been all too ready to stay where he’d put her, because she didn’t want to look like an idiot fumbling around his house trying to find her way. He’d said he’d show her around, and she was taking him at his word.
Corrie heard him go out to his garage a few times and walk down a hall into the back of the house. He’d puttered around in the kitchen a bit, most likely putting down the box of her kitchen doohickeys she’d decided she’d need immediately.
Finally she heard his footsteps coming closer to where she was in his family room. She felt the couch dip as he sat next to her and she sighed in relief when he took her hand.
“Relax, sweetheart. I promise you’ll get through this.”
“I’m just nervous. I don’t like new places.”
“I know you don’t, but soon this will feel like your home too. I swear I’ll do whatever you need in order to make you comfortable.”
“I’m being silly, I know, I—”
Quint cut her off with a kiss. He pulled back and whispered against her lips, “You’re not being silly. I’d feel the same way as you in your shoes. Just please, trust me to fix this for you.”
Corrie took a deep breath. He was right. “Okay.”
“Okay, first a tour. Then we’ll decide where to put some of your things. Yeah?”
Corrie nodded and gripped Quint’s hand tightly when they stood up. “Lead on, oh brave warrior.” She tried to lighten the mood.
Quint laughed as she hoped he would.
They spent the next hour touring his house several times. Quint never lost patience with her as he told her where his furniture was. He held her hand while they explored and she used her cane to gauge the distance between pieces of furniture and the width of halls and doorways. She felt more at ease after using it to figure out where things were and having Quint there to explain what everything was as she touched it.
After she’d been through every room twice, she began to feel comfortable enough to suggest moving some of the furniture here and there. She wouldn’t have been so bold, but Quint had repeatedly told her it was fine and encouraged her until she made some suggestions. Of course he immediately agreed and they worked together to find the best layout of his stuff.
When they’d entered his bedroom for the first time, Corrie was extremely nervous, but Quint kept his tour clinical and she only caught a brief innuendo or two. He was trying to be on his best behavior.
Finally, after she’d walked through the house without holding onto his hand twice, and she was confident that she’d remember where she was and how it was all set out, she called it quits for the night. Corrie knew there’d be times she’d forget, she was too used to her own place, but she appreciated Quint’s patience more than he’d ever know.
“How come you don’t have a seeing eye dog?”
Corrie figured he’d ask at some point, since most people did, but she wasn’t offended. “A dog is a lot of responsibility for someone who lives alone. I’m not opposed to one, heck, I love dogs, but knowing myself, I’d probably worry about its health, and what it was getting into that I couldn’t see. For now, my cane gets me around just fine, and if I need help, I’m never afraid to ask people around me for assistance.”
“Have you ever had one?”
“A dog? Unfortunately, no. My parents were allergic, and even once I moved out, I’d just gotten comfortable in my routine.”
“You’re off tomorrow, right?” Quint asked, changing the subject abruptly, as he was sometimes wont to do. It was as if once he got the answer he wanted, his brain was constantly in motion and he moved on to the next question.
Corrie smiled and did what she usually did, just went along with his change in conversation. “Yeah. It’s Dr. Garza’s day tomorrow.”
“I’ve asked for the day off as well. We’ll start on the kitchen and you can tell me the best place for everything. We can try to set up the pantry and fridge the same way you’ve done it at your place.”
“You’re too good to be true, you know. Are you a cyborg? Something out of the future?”
Quint chuckled. “Nope. I’m just me.”
“I like ‘just you.’”
“I’m glad. I like you too.”
Corrie knew she was smiling like an idiot, but couldn’t seem to stop. “We’re still going to hit the books tonight, though. I hope you know th
at.”
Quint burst out with a short laugh. “Of course, slave driver. Let’s do this.” He pulled over the papers she’d printed out and concentrated on what she’d set up for him tonight. He reviewed the alphabet and only made a few mistakes.
“Okay, tonight we’re going to start working on Grade 2 Braille. You ready?”
“Yup, sock it to me, woman.”
Corrie shook her head and continued. “Okay, try this.”
“I, L, Y.”
“Right,” Corrie praised, “but remember, this is Grade 2, the dots don’t necessarily represent letters, but actually words.
“So the I might not be an I, it could be a word instead.”
“Yup.”
“How do I know the difference?”
“Most things nowadays are written in Grade 2, so it’s a good bet if you come across something, it’s actually a word and not the letter. You’ve got a short sentence in front of you in Grade 2. If I’d written it out in Grade 1 Braille, it’d be eight letters. But since it’s in Grade 2, it’s only three.”
Corrie held her hand over Quint’s as he traced the dots with his fingertips again. “What does it say?”
“I like you.”
He traced the dots again. “Okay, so the I is really just an I. The L represents the word like, and the Y the word you. Cool. But I have a question.”
Corrie could tell Quint was looking at her. His hand was motionless under hers.
“Shoot.”
“How do I know the L represents the word like, and not loathe, or lick, or,” he paused and his voice lowered seductively, “love?”
Corrie’s heartrate jumped. “Practice, really. You have to figure out the context of what you’re reading.”
“Ummmm, so if you were sending me a letter in Braille it could be love, but if I got one from a scumbag prisoner, it would probably be loathe.”
Corrie felt Quint put his free hand on her neck. She knew he could feel her heart beating extremely fast. She nodded. “Yup, that’s it.”