The coffee pot gurgled, signaling it had finished brewing. Quinn poured a cup and put the carafe back, staring out the window at the sun as it rose over the lake. The storm had passed, leaving a fine mist covering the dark waters.
Cup in hand, he walked through the house opening windows to let fresh morning air in. The earthy scent of the woods drifted past and he drew in a deep breath on his way up the stairs. It calmed his nerves, helped him focus as he opened up his loft bedroom. His gaze snagged on his duffle bag, still packed and sitting on the foot of his king size bed. A reminder that he was screwing up. Tonight, he would sleep in his own bed.
He took a sip of coffee, picked up the bag and tossed it in the closet. He rolled his shoulders to ward off the weight riding there.
His phone went off again and he punched the button for his sister’s call. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter Nine
Avery opened her eyes to warm sunlight shining through the window and an empty bed. Well, empty except for a stack of neatly folded clothes sitting on the end.
Disappointment swept through her but she pushed it away and threw the covers off. Quinn shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place. Did she really expect him to be here this morning?
She reached for the clothes. Shorts, t-shirts, bras and panties with the tags still on and close enough to her size to fit, a pair of pajamas, jeans and socks. On the floor sat a pair of sandals. Not what she normally wore, but she’d take them over nothing.
Opting for the jeans and a white fitted t-shirt, she dressed quickly. The clothes fit like a glove, although the jeans were a little long and she had to cuff them. Not wanting to ruin the socks by getting blood on them, she walked barefoot into the kitchen.
A half-pot of coffee sat on the counter so she poured a cup, spying Quinn on the deck. She went out the sliding doors. The scent of the lake greeted her along with soothing silence. To her it was silence. To others it probably sounded simply like the outdoors. Either way, she liked it. Welcomed how it mollified her.
“Hey,” she said coming to stand beside Quinn at the railing. “Thanks for the clothes. Bailey?”
“She dropped them off this morning.”
“Thank her for me.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee.
“I need to use your computer and phone in your office. Get some work done. Call my assistant manager at Books for Change and let her know I’m all right. Start calling families.”
“That isn’t going to happen. As of right now, no one knows you’re alive and we have to keep it that way for your safety.”
“What do you mean?”
“The news reported six deceased humanitarian aid workers.”
Her knees went weak and she braced a hand on the railing for support. “So how did you now to come looking for me?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “A CIA agent named Shea Morrissey got a tip from her confidential informant that you had survived. She called us.”
“You mean if Shea Morrissey hadn’t gotten a tip about my whereabouts no one would have ever looked for me?”
When Quinn didn’t answer she looked over to see his jaw clenched tight. All the answer she needed.
Reality penetrated slowly and she set her cup on the railing before she dropped it. Despite the warmth of the morning, a chill surrounded her.
“Who is this woman to you?”
“Not me. My brother. And I’d rather not talk about it.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. “So despite how you feel about Shea Morrissey, you still came after me? On your own dime?”
He met her gaze. “It’s what we do.”
A knot formed in her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek. “Shea’s history is with Kell. Not me. But I stand behind my brother.”
Relief surged through her. She hated that she’d been jealous and he needed to explain. “So what happens now?”
“I eliminate the threat against you.”
“How?”
“Leave that up to me.”
“But to do that you’re going to need all the details of my kidnapping, right?”
He nodded.
She looked out over the lake, gaining strength in its serenity. “Tonight, after the wake. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
****
Quinn placed the letters wax on the old Scrabble board his sister had left in the closet years ago. As a teen, Bailey had loved to play games and always conned her brothers into playing with her. Mostly so she could beat them. He was surprised it was even still there. After wiping the dust off it, he and Avery sat down to a game, since neither of them was hungry or wanted to think about the funeral tomorrow.
“Triple word score,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile. That put him ahead by twenty points.
Avery wrote down his score and picked up her letters. On his x she played es then built down from the s with an ex to spell waxes and sex for a double word score.
“That puts me five points ahead of you.” She wrote down her score and looked up with a smug smile of her own. The first time he’d seen her smile. It erased the stress lines around her eyes and made her glow.
His eyes dropped to the word she placed. It echoed through his head like a drumbeat. Only then did he notice the other words they had played. Skin, flesh, legs, long, naked. Christ, this was a bad idea.
“Oh.”
He glanced up to see Avery staring at the board too. Their eyes met.
“Maybe we should play another game,” she murmured, looking away.
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed just as his cell phone blipped. Perfect timing.
He rose to his feet with one last glance at the board. How the hell did a game of Scrabble turn sexual?
Good God, the hole he was digging just got deeper and deeper.
“I have to take this.” Punching a button on his phone, he walked into the kitchen to take Kell’s call about funeral arrangements.
Away from a tempting game of Scrabble.
****
Avery tossed aside the sports magazine she’d been absently thumbing through and let out a frustrated sigh. She had resorted to reading it after Quinn took Kell’s phone call. After that tantalizing game of Scrabble.
Who knew Scrabble could be sensual?
Her belly tightened when she remembered the hunger in Quinn’s eyes. He’d masked it quickly, but not before it seared into her brain and made her want to kiss him.
It had started out as an innocent way to pass the time. A way to keep their minds off the funeral tomorrow and the wake that night. So she didn’t have to think about the vein she would open after the wake when she bore her secrets to Quinn about her captivity. They had both needed the distraction.
Until it backfired.
Now, she would never play Scrabble again without remembering this game.
She turned at the sound of Quinn’s light footsteps on the stairs. Her mouth went dry when she saw the slate-colored shirt and black slacks hugging his muscular frame. His dark hair was damp from his shower and he had shaved.
He hit the landing while buttoning a cuff. His gaze met hers and she saw stark pain masked in the green depths. Tension rode his muscles, sharpened his gaze.
“I don’t like leaving you here.”
She sent him a look. “I’ll lock the doors and I won’t venture outside. You have my word.”
He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone. “My brothers and I will go to the wake in shifts.”
Avery leaped off the couch and rushed to his side. She placed a hand on his arm to stop him from placing a call. “That’s crazy. Go to the wake with your family. I’ll be fine. No one knows I’m here. I’m perfectly safe, you said so yourself.”
If only he knew the places she traveled in her career. They were far more dangerous than a rugged log cabin tucked away in the deep woods of M
ichigan.
His cell phone rang. Indecision tightened the lines of his face. “Damn it, Avery. Lock the doors behind me. Don’t leave the house or the alarm will go off.” With that he answered his phone, gave her one last warning look, and headed for the door.
She crossed to the window and watched him climb into his truck and back out of the driveway. Suddenly lonely, she wrapped her arms around her waist and turned around to face the empty room. Being alone shouldn’t bother her. Maybe it was being cooped up for two days. Or lack of sleep. Why did she suddenly want to be with Quinn?
Chastising herself, she walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of hours-old coffee. Not for the caffeine, but for something to hold. As she sipped it she wondered how she would occupy herself the next couple hours. Quinn’s computer called to her, but she wouldn’t endanger the lives of her coworkers or their families by contacting them.
Determined not to sit idle, she went into the kitchen and dug through Quinn’s cupboard for the ingredients to make No Bake Cookies. They were the one dessert her mother had taught her to make that she could actually cook. And almost everyone had the fixings in their pantry.
Snapping on the small television that sat on the counter, she found a saucepan and a wooden spoon. As she watched an old sitcom she measured the ingredients and stirred over a low flame until they melted.
Minutes later, she lay out the cookies on a sheet of wax paper. With the water running in the dirty pan in the sink, she began cleaning up her mess.
A noise from outside made her jump. She clamped a hand over her heart, feeling it pound beneath her palm. Quinn had been gone all of thirty minutes and already she jumped at every little sound.
Chiding herself, she turned off the water. Her heart continued to race as she listened for more sounds that shouldn’t scare her. It annoyed her that they did. She wasn’t the jumpy type. At least not until a band of terrorists kidnapped her.
No. Not going there.
Avery looked around the empty kitchen. She paced to the table. Then back to the sink. Ridiculous. She wasn’t in Azbakastan anymore. This was Quinn’s house, not a tin house in the mountains.
She was safe.
Then why did she want Quinn to be there with her? And why did her heart pound like a drum?
Spooked, she finished cleaning up and returned to the living room to curl up on the sofa. She pulled the patchwork quilt off the back to wrap around her, despite the warmth inside the cabin. She picked up the remote control off the coffee table and switched on the TV. Settling for CNN, she leaned back and stared blankly at the screen.
Turning her gaze to the floor-to-ceiling windows, she watched a hanging basket overflowing with red and white flowers swing gently in the breeze. Just beyond the deck stood a forest of tall trees of different shapes and sizes. Beautiful. They calmed her nerves. Reminded her she had nothing to fear here.
Something streaked across the tree line. Avery jumped. Her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, she rose and walked over to the windows to peer out. Probably a deer or dog. No reason to get nervous.
Unless there were bears in Michigan.
But, the figure had been tall. Like a human. All of Quinn’s brothers were at the funeral wake and he had no neighbors close by. She must be mistaken.
She pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders.
The phone rang. She yelped and swung around, her back thumping into the wall. Berating herself, she shook it off and hurried to the phone in the kitchen. “Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Someone was breathing on the other end.
A chill skittered down her spine. “Hello? Can you hear me?” A bad connection? In these woods she wouldn’t be surprised.
The line went dead. Avery disconnected and put the phone down. Her instincts told her the call wasn't a wrong number or a bad connection. First, a figure in the woods and then a hang up.
She grabbed a butcher knife out of the wooden block, walked the house to make sure the doors and windows were locked, then resumed her seat on the sofa.
Something scraped against the side of the house. Her head snapped around, eyes wide as the cabin morphed into the tiny bedroom cell in Azbakastan. Men outside her door. Coming in to hurt her.
“No,” she whispered as they came closer. She lifted the knife, prepared to fight.
Knife?
They never gave her a weapon.
Shaking her head, she looked around the room. Quinn’s cabin. Her shoulders slumped but she didn’t drop the knife.
Please, Quinn, come home soon.
****
Quinn pushed through the door of the funeral home in Cedar Falls and immediately his stomach dropped to his feet. The smell of death surrounded him, although it was veiled by the scent of vanilla and lavender. It didn’t soothe his nerves any as he stepped into the show room and forced his eyes to the casket in front of the room.
Cold sweat washed over him and he froze in place, unable to take another step. Vaguely, he was aware of his parents approaching, of Dani crying on Evan’s shoulder in the front row, his brothers hanging in the distance, the crowd of people paying respects. He couldn’t look away from the casket. His feet refused to carry him into the room where he was expected to accept condolences, listen to memoirs.
Instead, images of Ryan bleeding to death flashed through his head. His ears filled with staccato gunfire and Kell’s panicked voice shouting at him to save their brother. A hand touched his arm and he flinched.
“Quinn? Are you all right?”
Snapping back to the present he blinked and looked down at his mother, who had a hand wrapped around his forearm, concern in her eyes. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“Did you come alone?”
“Avery isn’t here.”
His mother nodded and patted his arm. “It’s probably for the best. Come in, the Warners would like to talk to you.”
Quinn went through the motions, answered appropriately, more by rote than anything. His brain numbed and the ache in his chest grew with every condolence he accepted.
When he had all he could take, he excused himself from the woman who had gone to school with them, and slipped out the front door. A warm breeze hit him full on and he breathed in the fresh air. Better than the damned lavender and vanilla.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed home, needing a distraction from the knife in his gut.
Avery picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
“It’s Quinn.”
She expelled a deep breath. “Oh, thank God.”
He stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Are you checking up on me?”
Something in her tone set his senses on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Is the wake over?”
“Avery,” he growled.
A sigh. “It’s stupid.”
He doubted that. “Tell me anyway.”
“I thought I saw someone outside. Then the phone rang and no one was there. It’s ludicrous—”
“I’m on my way.” He disconnected and strode toward his truck parked nearby. He dialed Kell when he got on the road to tell to him to run interference.
Damn it, he never should have agreed to let her stay home alone. Quinn pushed the truck harder and faster. Another fuck-up.
****
“Quinn, no—”
Too late. He’d already hung up. Avery tossed the phone on the coffee table and sat back with a huff. She hadn’t meant to say anything. Certainly not to pull Quinn away from his family. They already hated her. This would only make matters worse. The words slipped out before she could stop them. Now he was on his way home because she got spooked by things she normally never would have let get to her.
There had to be an easy explanation for what she’d seen and the call. She was in the woods, for God’s sake. Had to be an animal. Which shouldn’t scare her. Well, bears did a little. As long as they steered clear of her she would do the same.
The sound of Quinn’s truck skidding to a stop in front of the house drew her attention. Seconds later he burst through the front door, the lines of his face drawn tight. His eyes scanned the room and landed on her. Avery sat up straighter and readjusted the quilt around her shoulders.
“Are you all right?” He closed the door and strode into the room.
“I’m fine. You shouldn’t have come home.”
He kept on going, checking each room. She watched him go upstairs and come back down minutes later. This time with a gun clutched at his side.
“Where did you see them?”
“Through the living room windows. Near the tree line. It was nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Yes, you should have. Stay here.” He moved to the back door and unlocked it before slipping outside.
Avery hurried to the windows to watch him walk the perimeter of the house. He made quite the picture in his slacks and dress shirt holding a gun. The way he moved like a predator stalking its prey made her belly tighten. Unable to look away, she watched him crouch down at the tree line and lightly run his hand over the ground.
His gaze swung to the cabin and zeroed in on her. His lips flattened in displeasure before he rose swiftly to his feet and disappeared into the trees. Fear skittered down her spine, but she chased it away. Quinn could handle himself. She’d witnessed that firsthand in Azbakastan. There was nothing out there anyway. She never should have said anything to him on the phone. God, why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? He should be at the funeral home with his family, not scouring the woods for something that wasn’t there.
After what seemed an eternity, Quinn reappeared and strode toward the house. Avery met him at the door.
“You didn’t find anything, did you? I’m sure what I saw was a deer or something.”
He tucked the gun in his waistband at the small of his back. “You didn’t see a deer.”
“Are you sure?” She followed him into the kitchen.
Maximum Risk Page 11