Hearts on the Line

by Margaret Daley

  “Don’t touch it.”

  “Sorry. I already did.”

  Becca hurried around to the other side where Quinn was. “That’s okay. Leave it. There may be fingerprints on it.”

  “I don’t need fingerprints to know who did this.”

  “Escalante,” Becca said, making a slow circle as if she could see into the dark shadows that suddenly seemed sinister.

  SEVEN

  Quinn moved forward in the line at the back of the church by the door. “Pastor Gabriel, this is Becca Hilliard. She’s Sam’s partner.”

  Becca took the minister’s hand. “I enjoyed your sermon.”

  “Thank you.” Reverend Gabriel Dawson looked deep into her eyes. “I hope you visit us again.”

  Placing his hand at the small of her back, Quinn guided her toward the door, saying, “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  Out in the foyer Becca started for the church’s entrance, trying to make sense of her conflicting emotions that had come to the foreground ever since Pastor Gabriel gave his sermon. He could have been personally talking to her.

  “Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”

  Is that why I stopped going to church? I was angry at You for taking my parents? For robbing me of what I had planned to do with my life? The questions tumbled through her mind, producing more. Was I so wrapped up in the negative that I couldn’t see the positive in my situation?

  “Becca.” Quinn lay his hand on her shoulder. “There’s refreshments in the rec hall.”

  She blinked, so focused on her thoughts that for a few seconds Quinn’s words didn’t register.

  “Becca, are you all right? Do you want to leave?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I was thinking about the sermon.”

  His mouth, which only the night before had kissed hers, tilted upward. “Don’t be sorry about that. Pastor Gabriel gives thought-provoking sermons. I’m glad you see that.”

  He led her toward the rec hall where a table of cookies, coffee and punch was set up. The children crowded around the refreshments while the adults stayed back, talking in small groups.

  “Hey, cousin. Recovered from your big shindig yesterday?” Colleen Montgomery sidestepped to give Quinn and Becca room in the circle.

  “Working on it. Really should be asking Mom and Dad that. They shouldered most of the work. When did you get into town?”

  “We arrived late last night. Otherwise, we’d have been at your barbecue.”

  “I hear you will be starting on rebuilding the hospital wing,” Alessandro, Colleen’s fiancé, said. “With all your other projects, that will be a lot of extra time.”

  “That’s why Dad’s coming back to Montgomery Construction. He wants to head up the rebuilding of the wing.”

  “I think Uncle Joe is tired of retirement.”

  “You might be right, Colleen.” Quinn shifted closer to Becca as Sam approached. “Especially with Mom at the café all the time.”

  “You only have a few more weeks until the big day. I don’t know how you can put a wedding together so quickly,” Becca said, noticing Sam’s frown.

  “Between my mom and Aunt Fiona I’m not having to do much.”

  “Becca, we need to go.”

  The urgency in Sam’s voice riveted her attention as well as everyone else’s. “What’s wrong?” Please not another murder, God.

  “Someone just tried to kill Frost.”

  Colleen perked up. “Is he hurt?”

  “No. I would prefer you not do anything with this information at the moment.”

  “I’m not working as a reporter anymore so your info is safe with me.” Colleen winked at her fiancé. “I’ve had a better offer from Alessandro.”

  While Sam started for the entrance, Becca twisted toward Quinn. “Thanks for bringing me. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Concern etched his features. “Call me when you get home.”

  Becca heard Colleen quiz Quinn about their relationship as Becca hurried after Sam, who waited for her in the foyer. Quinn stated to his cousin that she was just a good friend. Hearing him say what she had been saying about their relationship sent disappointment through her. Seeing yet another happy couple caused dreams to dance in her mind.

  You can’t have it both ways, Hilliard, she told herself as she fell into step beside Sam.

  “I’m glad to see you at church today,” Sam said as he switched on his car.

  She didn’t want him to start in about her attendance with Quinn, not when she was feeling such confusion. Instead she asked, “Did Frost ask to see us?”

  “Yes, he’s at his house with his lawyer and some police officers.”

  “I think Escalante is the one responsible for slashing Quinn’s tires last night at my house. So it seems he has been extra busy lately. Maybe this will be to our advantage for a change.”

  Sam threw her a surprised look. “I hadn’t heard about Quinn’s tires. Escalante’s getting bold and reckless. That means he’ll make a mistake soon.”

  “I hope before he kills again.”

  Becca couldn’t get the picture of Quinn out of her mind as he had dealt with the situation. Determination had clenched his jaw and hands. Silence had pulsated in the air as she’d waited with him for the auto-club tow truck to come and remove his truck. Quinn had refused to go inside, as though he were taunting Escalante to make an appearance. She’d kept guard, with her weapon near, worried that Escalante was out there in the dark watching and waiting to finish Quinn off. By the time the tow truck had arrived, tension had blanketed them both in sweat. That had been the longest thirty minutes of her life.

  “Quinn got the message,” Becca said, staring out her side window. “Escalante wants us to know he can get to anyone, anytime.”

  “That might work in our favor with Frost.” Sam pulled up in front of the deputy mayor’s house, parking behind two squad cars.

  Becca nodded at the two police officers standing guard on the porch. “Frost inside?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s in the living room waiting for you two.”

  Becca went into the foyer, and waited for Sam. She whispered to her partner, “In there.” She nodded toward where Frost was. “Ask me about how I felt having Escalante slash Quinn’s tires in my driveway.”

  Sam grinned, a gleam sparking his eyes as he did exactly that.

  Becca started for the living room. “Escalante has nothing to lose, that’s for sure. Vandalizing a truck in a police officer’s driveway proves that. No one is safe until we get him.” She kept her voice pitched low but not too low that Frost didn’t hear every word.

  “And you were right inside the house when he did it and didn’t hear a thing.” Sam stepped into the entrance and immediately said, “We’ll talk more later.”

  Frost’s normally ruddy face was ashen, as though he had been sick for several weeks. His demeanor contained none of the cocky assurance of a few days ago. He sat with his lawyer on his cream-colored couch, twisting his hands together. Becca immediately thought of Dahlia’s office and its cream-colored decor.

  “I hope you aren’t wasting our time, Mr. Frost. I’m in no mood for it today.” Becca marched into the room, dark with all the drapes closed, and positioned herself in front of the deputy mayor as though she was ready for a battle—which she was. Quinn’s life was at risk, and she wasn’t going to let Frost stand in the way of catching Escalante.

  Sam came to her side and murmured, “I understand why you’re upset, and believe me, you have every right to be, but let’s hear what our deputy mayor has to say first.”

  Becca wanted to applaud Sam’s performance of good cop/bad cop. They often traded off being the tough or sympathetic one. Right now she relished the role of the tough cop. It gave her a way to vent some of her frustration over the unsolved cases. “Okay, Mr. F
rost, why have you called us here? Didn’t the officers take your information on this alleged attempt on your life?”

  “Alleged attempt!” Frost shot to his feet, stomped over to the drawn drapes and shoved them back. He pointed toward the large window that afforded him a view of the front of his house. “Just in case you don’t know what that is, it’s a bullet hole. If I hadn’t bent over to pick up a magazine from my coffee table, I’d be dead. Dead!” The dark brocade drape fell back into place, throwing the room into dimness except for the lone lamp on by the couch.

  Becca followed the path the bullet would have probably traveled and found it lodged in the mantel about four or five feet off the floor. “We’ll get the crime-scene unit out here. That’s about all we can do besides canvas the neighbors to see if anyone saw anything.” She started toward the entrance. “We’ll file a report, though I don’t see why the first officers on scene couldn’t have done this.”

  “That’s all you’re going to do?” Frost’s voice shrilled the question. “I am the deputy mayor of Colorado Springs! I deserve—”

  “Not for long,” Becca cut into his tirade, having already heard rumors that Max wanted Evie Duncan, someone he could trust, to take over that position until he was fully recovered.

  “As my partner said, there isn’t much else we can do,” Sam said in a level voice. “It was probably Escalante, but unless we find him, there isn’t much we can do about the threat. I hate to tell you, but we have to have evidence to go on before we can make a move.”

  “Probably wasn’t even Escalante. I bet Mr. Frost did this himself to get sympathy.” Becca shifted toward the entrance again.

  “I know where Escalante might be,” Frost said, his cheeks singed with red splotches. “The man’s crazy. Dahlia said that several times. I didn’t have anything to do with any murders. I was paid to look the other way when the drugs started coming into the town, that’s all.”

  That’s all! Becca bit down on her lower lip to keep her opinion inside. The man was talking and she didn’t want to stop him.

  “I’ll tell you what I know from my meetings with Dahlia. I tried to find out anything I could in case I needed the information later. But I’m not saying a word until I am promised around-the-clock police protection until Escalante is caught.”

  “You’ve got it.” Becca moved back to Sam’s side.

  “I want a deal from the D.A. for immunity from all charges.”

  “That may take some time, and I don’t know if he’ll do that. The charges against you are serious ones.” Becca again clenched her teeth to keep from saying something she would regret later. She hated the fact that they sometimes had to make deals with criminals to catch bigger criminals.

  “My lawyer will go with you and work out the deal with the D.A. I’d like to stay here with protection until it’s worked out.”

  Sam scanned the living room with all the drapes closed, the only barrier between Frost and the outside. “Wouldn’t you be better down at the police station until they can hash out the details?”

  “No way. Look what happened to Alistair Barclay. He was murdered in jail. I feel safer here for the time being.”

  “Even after what happened this morning?” Becca heard the contempt in her voice and tried to curb it. They were so close to a good lead on Escalante’s whereabouts.

  “Yes.” Frost settled back on the couch, trying to appear nonchalant but not succeeding with his balled hands and stiff posture.

  Frost’s lawyer gathered up his briefcase and said to Becca, “I’ll meet you at the D.A.’s office.”

  “It’s Sunday,” Sam said.

  “I suggest you get ahold of him and get him down to his office to make a deal. Unless you’re not serious about wanting to catch Escalante.”

  Becca nodded toward Sam. “We’ll meet you there.”

  Out in his car a few minutes later, Sam watched the lawyer climb into his vehicle. “Next time I get to play bad cop. It took all my willpower not to go after Frost and demand he tell me where Escalante is.”

  Becca studied her partner, whose hands grasped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. “Will you be able to do this? I realize with your father—”

  “Don’t go there, Becca. I’ve been on this case too long not to be there at the end. So yes, I will be able to do whatever it takes.”

  “Even let Frost walk for the information he gives us?”

  The rigid set to Sam’s jaw attested to his anger, barely held in check. “Yes, if it gets us Escalante. So the info better be worth it.”

  Becca silently thought the same thing. Sam had his family to worry about. She had Quinn.

  Night cloaked her house in darkness as Becca pulled into her driveway late that day. Quinn’s blue truck parked next to her house brought a frown to her face. He wasn’t supposed to be working. Was something wrong? The evening before came crashing back down on her, and anger burned through her at the thought of Escalante sneaking up to Quinn’s truck, slashing the tires. In her driveway! With her only yards away!

  She quickly slid from her car, scanning the terrain, half expecting to see Escalante in the shadows. This had to end. Her nerves were so taut she was afraid they would snap at the least little thing.

  She headed up the driveway. After hours of negotiation between the D.A. and Frost’s lawyer, they had come to an agreement. Frost would spend minimal time in prison for his part in the drug ring and Escalante’s schemes. From his information, she and Sam had discovered that Dahlia had purchased some land almost five months ago near Cripple Creek. Frost didn’t know the exact location, but he did know that Dahlia didn’t like anything having to do with the outdoors or rugged country. Why would she purchase land she never intended to use? That was a good question and one they would pursue first thing tomorrow morning.

  “Becca.”

  A deep male voice came to her from her front porch. She stopped by his truck and stared into the darkness. “Quinn? What are you doing here?”

  “I was waiting for you to come home.”

  “How long?”

  “Not long. I called the station and talked to Sam. He said you two had just finished interviewing Frost and you were on your way home.”

  Becca mounted the steps to the porch. “Is something wrong?”

  “I wanted to make sure everything was okay. You’ve been working so hard lately, putting in extra time on your day off. I was worried about you.”

  She wasn’t used to people being worried about her. The gesture brought a lump to her throat. Boy, she must be tired if she was getting emotional over something like that. “I’m fine. When I’m on a case, I can get driven. The longer the case goes unsolved the harder it is to solve.”

  “Hence the long, long hours?” Quinn rose from the wicker love seat and covered the distance between them.

  “Part of the job.”

  He touched her arm. “Have you eaten tonight?”

  She nodded then realized he probably couldn’t see the movement in the dark and said, “Yeah, Sam and I grabbed something before our interview with Frost this evening.”

  “Did you find out anything useful?”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

  He moved even closer until Becca could smell his distinctive aftershave. “You know I have a vested interest in seeing Escalante brought in. Maybe I could help.”

  “No,” she said too quickly, a vision of Quinn getting shot by Escalante flashing across her mind. “It’s legwork that Sam and I can handle.” There was no way she would tell him that she wanted to protect him from Escalante. He probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Besides, she couldn’t involve a civilian in police work.

  His hand skimmed up the length of her arm until he cupped her face and brought her within inches of him. “We’ll have to do dinner some other night.”

  His mouth was a breath away from hers. She nodded again, his nearness robbing her of the ability to speak.

  “I can’t work on y
our kitchen tomorrow, but I’ll be here bright and early Tuesday.”

  She inhaled a shallow breath that didn’t meet her need for oxygen. All her senses were centered on the feel of his warm, rough palm against her cheek. His hand burned into her skin, making a mockery of her declaration they were just friends. There was definitely more to their relationship than being friends—had been from the very beginning.

  He slid his lips across hers. She shivered and he drew her closer. His mouth explored hers, then left a trail of tiny kisses to her ear. Clinging to him, she savored the moment of bliss she experienced in his embrace.

  When he parted, his hands framed her face, and she felt the intense exploration of his regard, even though darkness surrounded them. “You know, we can’t keep telling everyone we are just friends.”

  “What are we?” she managed to get out, backing away so she could breathe.

  “Dating.”

  “Probably not a good idea.”

  “Probably not.”

  “The timing is all off.”

  “If you say so. But Escalante won’t be out there for long. I have faith that you and Sam will catch him.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that we don’t agree on several important issues. You want a family. I don’t. Your faith is strong. Mine is shaky at best.”

  He put several feet between them, leaning back against the railing. “I know. Not to mention I’m not fond of your profession.”

  “Then why are we wasting each other’s time?”

  “Good question.” Raking his hand through his hair, he shrugged. “I can’t help myself. Feelings aren’t always logical.”

  “The wise course of action would be not to see each other.”

  “Not practical. I’m doing your house.”

  “You could turn it over to someone else,” she said, not really wanting him to.

  “No.” He straightened. “When I start a job, I finish it. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  When Becca watched him walk to his truck, she saw a shadowy movement in the dark. While he pulled out of her driveway, she scanned the area, wondering where Escalante was. Maybe her life would become more normal once he was caught. Maybe she could sort through this labyrinth of emotions, all centered around Quinn Montgomery.