“It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve been to several parties where killers have been on the guest list. A lot of them have been held on this ship.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because ... .” He trailed off.
Rowan zoomed in, triumphant. “Because you said so? And that right there is the problem. You’re not the boss of me. We’re supposed to be equal partners.”
“We are partners. This half of the partnership can’t allow your half of the partnership to be in danger right now, though. It’s not going to happen.”
“You don’t know that I will be in danger.” Rowan refused to back down. “Maybe I’ll just go to the party myself. What do you think about that?”
“You weren’t invited.”
“What do you mean?”
“The invitation was sent to me. To Quinn Davenport and guest. There is no separate invitation just for my guest.”
Rowan hadn’t considered that possibility, which made her feel stupid. “Well ... maybe I’ll find someone else who has an invitation and be their date.”
“Knock yourself out.” Quinn turned his attention to the ceiling. “I can’t believe I had grand dreams of spending the morning in bed. That seems like a stupid thought, huh?”
Despite her anger, Rowan felt bad for him. He was still struggling with what happened on the beach ... and apparently blaming himself. That didn’t mean she could allow him to go alpha and control her life. “Maybe when you’re not being a butthead we can go back to our happy mornings,” she suggested. “Until then, I’m still really mad at you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not backing down.”
“That makes two of us.”
QUINN STUCK TO HIS GUNS AND refused to back down regarding the party. He was so miserable with the silence in the room, though, that he bent over backwards to give her something else he knew she desperately needed.
“How come I can come here?” Rowan asked from the passenger seat of Quinn’s borrowed car when he parked in front of the beach house shortly before noon. “How come this is allowed?”
He held out his hands and shrugged. “Maybe I’m hoping this gesture will be enough to get me out of the doghouse.”
She pursed her lips. “No.” Her voice was soft. “I appreciate it more than you can imagine, but I’m still mad. You’re not my dictator, Quinn.”
“I don’t want to be your dictator.” His heart legitimately hurt. “I won’t put you in unnecessary danger, though. No matter what you think, I’m not bossing you around simply because I like being in charge. I’m bossing you around because I cannot lose you. It will kill me. That became glaringly obvious on that beach.”
Rowan’s frustration collided with a huge ball of love, the one with his name stamped on it, that she carried around in her very core. “This is so unfair,” she lamented, fixing her eyes out the windshield. “I’m mad at you. I want to stay mad at you. I can’t if you’re going to say things like that.”
He snickered, although the sound was hollow. “How about we call a truce for a bit, huh? You need to see your father and uncle and I need some aspirin.”
She cast him a sidelong look. “I’m still going to be mad during the truce. I’m just not going to snap at you for a little bit.”
“I can take that.”
He met her in front of the car, his eyes busy on the tree line as he pushed her body in front of his. He was ready to serve as a human shield if it became necessary. Rowan didn’t miss what he was doing, but she had no idea if she should call him on his actions. For now, she opted to let it go.
“You talked to them last night, right?” she asked as they climbed the stairs to the front porch. “They know I’m okay, don’t they?”
“They know. They were at the hospital with me for a long time.”
She slowed her pace. “They were? That wasn’t smart. What if someone saw them?”
“Well, once I told them you’d been shot, there was nothing that was going to keep them from the hospital. They love you.”
“Yeah, but ... I was barely shot.”
“That’s not really a thing,” Quinn said as he leaned forward to press the doorbell. “If you’re shot, you’re shot. There’s no barely about it.”
“It seems like there should be a barely.”
“You’re just arguing to argue today, aren’t you?” He kissed her cheek. “I get that you’re feeling surly because you want to be in control, but you should take pity on your poor father. He had a meltdown the night you were shot.”
“He did?” Rowan lifted an eyebrow as she pressed the doorbell again. She thought for sure someone would answer it right away.
“He did,” Quinn confirmed. “He was upset because he assumed you were targeted by someone on his account. He didn’t take it well.”
“Oh.” Rowan’s hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t even think about that. Do you think he’s okay?”
“He seemed okay when they left,” Quinn said as he reached for the doorbell again. “Maybe they’re not here. I should’ve called before coming, but I assumed they would be sticking close to the beach house today.”
Something occurred to Rowan. “Maybe they left for good.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said my father freaked out.” Her heartbeat picked up a notch as the possibility settled in. “He blamed himself. Maybe he only pretended to calm down in front of you so he could run again without you trying to stop him.”
“Ro, no.” Even as he said the words, Quinn couldn’t stop a pang of panic from racing up his spine. It didn’t stop climbing until it grabbed him by the throat. “I ... he wouldn’t just leave. We talked about this at the hospital.”
Rowan’s eyes widened to saucer-like proportions. “You talked about this? That means he mentioned running. How could you not tell me?”
“He barely mentioned it,” Quinn fired back, cringing at the accusatory look in her eyes. “Sweetie, I swear I didn’t think it was a possibility. I told him my suspicions, that it was my fault.”
“Oh, don’t start that again. It’s not your fault either. What is it with the men in my life developing martyr complexes? I freaking swear.” She stormed away from him and hopped off the front porch, rounding the corner to head to the back patio as she muttered a series of curses under her breath. “This is no one’s fault but the jerk who pulled the trigger. I just can’t even ... .”
She continued stomping her feet against the ground until she reached the back of the house and then she pulled up short. Even though she kept telling herself during the walk that there had to be a rational explanation for what was going on, she didn’t believe it until she caught sight of her father and uncle. They sat on the beach, staring out at the water, and they looked to be deep in conversation.
“They’re still here,” she gritted out.
Quinn rested his hand on her back. “They are. I told you he wouldn’t leave.”
“Yeah, well, you’re on the butthead list today. I needed to see for myself.”
He chuckled. “I can see that.”
She swiped at her forehead to wipe away the sweat. “I don’t think I can take it if I lose him again.” Her voice was low. “I know that’s probably not what I should be worried about right now, but I honestly can’t take it.”
“That’s how I feel about you.” He leaned close and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. “We’re off our game here a little bit. We’ll figure it out, though. Right now, your father is still here. He’s not going anywhere. As for me, I’m going to run a few errands with Fred and leave you here.”
Rowan couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’re voluntarily leaving my side?”
“I think ‘voluntarily’ is a subjective word,” he said dryly. “You need time with your father, though. It’s best if I clear out so you’re not worried about entertaining me. Besides, I want to see what Fred’s contacts can dig up when it comes to Winchester’s plea deal. Maybe
we can find enough information to void it.”
“Is that the ultimate goal?”
“No. The ultimate goal is to find out what really happened on that ship and then kill whoever took a shot at you.”
“Kill?”
“I won’t let that person live.” Quinn’s tone was icy. “I have to send a clear message here. If someone touches you, that means I go after them. I won’t back down from that.”
The look in his eyes made Rowan uncomfortable. “For now, let’s focus on Winchester. I’m sure Fred will be able to come up with some information. I think that’s the most important thing.”
“I’m right there with you ... for now.”
PAUL AND NICK WERE HAPPY TO have Rowan for the day. They embraced the idea with enthusiasm when Quinn broached it, eagerly nodding their heads and spewing plans as Rowan got comfortable on a lounger in the shade.
“We’ll keep her quiet,” Nick promised, amusement dancing over his features when Paul emerged from the house carrying a box fan and a glass of iced tea. “We’ll keep her cool apparently, too.”
Quinn smirked as he watched Paul deliver the drink and plug in the fan. “She’s feeling feisty,” he said, keeping his voice low. “She wants to pick fights. I think it’s because she needs to feel as if she’s in control. What happened two nights ago was a shock to her system, and it made her realize she has very little control.
“I don’t know what to do for her,” he continued. “I need to know she’s out of trouble, though. I plan on digging hard with Fred this afternoon. I’m almost a hundred percent positive one of the Sterlings is responsible for this. I plan on figuring out which one ... and then making him or her pay.”
“I’ll help. As for Rowan, we’ll keep an eye on her.”
“She needs to rest.”
“No excursions to spy on the neighbors.” Nick mimed crossing his heart. “You have my word. We’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”
“I’m going to make sure you keep that promise.”
Quinn kissed Rowan goodbye, a gesture she returned even though she remained angry. Their truce was in full effect. The minute Quinn left, though, Paul started questioning Rowan.
“Are you two fighting?”
Rowan held out her hands and shrugged. “He’s being a baby. We’re in a truce right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a complete and total pain.”
“And what is he being a pain about?” Nick asked as he settled on a nearby chair. He had a feeling Rowan was going to start spewing a litany of complaints — most of which were due to Quinn’s need to protect her — but when she answered, he was genuinely surprised.
“We have this great opportunity to go after the Sterlings tonight and he refuses to even consider it.” She launched into the story. When she was done, Nick managed to keep a straight face ... but just barely. “He’s being a bully and I don’t like it. I’m not going to let him get away with it.”
“I see.” Nick steepled his fingers.
Since Rowan expected something more from him, she offered up a dirty look. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That he’s being a jerk.”
“Except he’s not,” Nick said, refusing to kowtow to Rowan’s moods. “He’s legitimately worried and I don’t blame him. Someone in that house is most likely a murderer.”
“Yeah, but we need to figure out who it is. Can you think of another way to get up close and personal with them?”
“Some things are more important than finding answers, Rowan,” Paul cautioned. “Your life is one of those things.”
“Oh, you sound like Quinn.” She made a face. “I’m perfectly fine. I was barely shot.”
“You didn’t see him at the hospital,” Nick countered. “He was this close to falling apart.” He held his thumb and index finger a hair’s breadth apart. “The only thing keeping him on his feet was his responsibility to you. He was a broken man otherwise.”
Rowan opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, readjusting her tack quickly. “I understand he was afraid. I don’t blame him. I would’ve been afraid, too. Still, this is the best way to figure out who the guilty party is. I don’t understand why he doesn’t see that.”
“I’m sure he does,” Nick said. “That doesn’t mean he’s willing to risk you in the pursuit. Besides, there could very well be more than one killer in that house. Three people are dead. You were shot. One person might not be responsible for all of those things.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” Rowan muttered. “Huh. What if three or four of them joined together and planned the murders? That’s possible, right?”
“Anything is possible.”
“We should work it out.” She straightened in her chair. “I need a notebook.”
“So we can solve a crime from the patio?”
She nodded without hesitation. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Sadly, I do not.” He heaved out a sigh and stood. “I guess it’s okay. We promised to keep you here. As long as you stay away from the Sterlings, what could possibly go wrong?”
17
Seventeen
“How is Rowan?”
Fred rented a work-share space in Tierra Verde so he could have access to the internet and enough privacy to keep others who might be milling about from suspecting what he and Quinn were doing.
“She’s okay.” Quinn sat in a chair next to Fred and focused on the laptop the private detective was working on. “Anything?”
“I just got here myself and am booting up. Give me a second.”
“Sure.” Quinn leaned back in his chair, his eyes landing on the small window in their work area.
Fred’s expression was curious as he slid his friend a sidelong look. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
Quinn shook himself out of his reverie. “What makes you think anything is wrong?”
“Because I’ve met you. Heck, after our stint overseas, there are times I think I’m more in tune with your needs than mine.”
“I think that sounds like a gross exaggeration.”
“And yet you’re obviously upset,” Fred prodded. “What gives? I thought Rowan was going to be okay.”
“She is,” Quinn replied hurriedly. “She’s going to be fine. She needed some stitches ... and she’s on antibiotics. She’s a little uncomfortable, but in two weeks she should be back to normal. In six weeks she might only have a small scar left.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Fred was a patient man and he planned on waiting out his friend whether the mopey security chief realized it or not.
“The problem is... she’s mad at me.” Quinn felt like a dope admitting it.
Fred blinked his eyes several times in rapid succession. “Excuse me?” he said finally. “Did you just say she’s mad at you?”
“I did.”
“And that’s your problem?”
Quinn made a groaning sound as he shook his head. “Oh, don’t give me grief. I know it sounds ridiculous.”
“Oh, no. It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all. She’s mad at you. The world is surely coming to an end.”
“Knock it off,” Quinn warned, extending a finger. “I can only take so much.”
“That’s probably because she’s mad at you. Your defenses are down and you’re contemplating the meaning of the universe, which means you’ll overload if you’re expected to take much more of this.”
“I hate you sometimes.” Quinn rubbed his forehead. “Seriously, you’re a complete and total jerk when you want to be.”
“And you’re acting like a crybaby.” Fred refused to back down. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and we’ll see if we can solve your problem, huh? There’s no sense moping about it instead of trying to fix it.”
“Rowan is mad at me.”
“So you’ve said.”
“She’s frustrated because the Sterlings sent us an invitation to a memorial party they’re hosting
at their compound tonight. She thinks we should go and see if we can unmask a killer.”
Fred cracked a smile. “Is that how she phrased it? She’s pretty darned cute.”
“She’s adorable,” Quinn agreed. “She’s also recovering from being shot.”
“I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but things could’ve been a heck of a lot worse. If you’re going to get shot, the wound she received is about as good as it gets. Er, well, other than a butt shot.”
Quinn didn’t want to laugh. It seemed like the wrong reaction. He couldn’t stop himself, though. “That’s pretty funny.”
“Thanks. I’m here all week.” Fred clapped his friend on the shoulder and shot him a pointed look. “She’s okay. You can’t hover. Besides, you fell in love with her because she was a go-getter and didn’t back down whenever trouble appeared. I don’t think it’s right to suddenly change the rules on her, do you?”
“I’m not changing the rules. It simply seems to me that, after getting shot — and I don’t care if it’s a small wound or not — she should be taking it easy. She should not be wanting to immediately set off on an adventure that involves hanging around with potential killers.”
“Oh, wow. Listen to you.” Fred’s eyebrows hopped. “I didn’t realize you were such a killjoy. Perhaps you missed your calling. You should have business cards made up that say ‘Quinn Davenport: Professional Worrywart.’ I think those would go over well.”
Quinn scowled. “It’s not funny. No matter how you try to paint it as hysterical, it’s the exact opposite.”
“Oh, poor baby.” Fred absently patted his hand. “I don’t know how you survive the turmoil in your life.”
“And I’m done talking to you.” Quinn held up his hand to silence his friend. “Let’s get to digging. You got the access we were looking for, right?”
“You mean did I manage to sweet talk one of my contacts in the police department into allowing me into the sealed files? I did. You owe me.”
Perilous Seas Page 16