The minute Ree made eye contact with Quint, her chest squeezed, and she was filled with warmth.
“Bye,” she said to Lola, who waved before getting into the bright yellow sports car. Seriously? If Ree had the kind of money to spend on a vehicle like that she most certainly wouldn’t buy one that was highlighter yellow. Constantin might have good taste in girlfriends, but that was where it ended.
Quint hauled her against his chest and kissed her. Properly. Thoroughly.
“The first kiss was for me,” he whispered, his lips so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath. A sensitized skitter ran the length of her neck.
He linked their fingers and held tight as they made the trek back to the apartment. Once inside, he went straight to the fridge while she changed into something more comfortable.
“How did it go in Galveston?” she asked.
He gave a quick rundown.
“Did you find out anything new at work?”
“It was far too busy to talk,” Ree said with disappointment in her voice.
Quint muttered a curse.
“I need to do laundry tomorrow before work,” she said as a knock sounded at the door. Her heart galloped as she walked over to the door and then checked the peephole. She opened the door to Angie. “Hey. Everything okay?”
“It’s late, I know,” Angie started, balancing two glasses of wine in her hands. “Can I come in? I brought alcohol.”
“Um, yeah, sure. Why not,” Ree said, stumbling a little bit. She took a step back. “Come on in.”
“I can run down and throw in a load of laundry while the two of you talk,” Quint said.
“You’d do my laundry?” Ree asked, not bothering to mask her shock. And then she realized that might sound funny coming from a married woman.
Angie must have been in her own world, because she walked on in and plopped down on the sofa, setting the wineglasses down on the coffee table. Ree shot a look toward Quint, and he smiled.
He mouthed the words no worries. “I’ll heat up your plate of leftovers and bring it into the living room. Looks like Angie needs to talk.”
“Thank you, honey,” she said before walking over and planting a sweet kiss on his lips.
“Save more of that for later,” he said with a wink that brought on a serious smile. The man was gorgeous and funny. He was smart and could handle himself in pretty much any situation. Her heart needed Bubble Wrap for the damage a person like that could do given direct access. Was it too late?
“What happened?” Ree asked as she turned to face Angie and headed into the living room.
“I heard your door open, so I knew you’d be up. I hope this is okay,” Angie said. Her face twisted in distress.
“Totally fine,” Ree said, taking a seat. “It would have been totally unacceptable without the wine, though.”
Angie laughed. Quint brought over a warm plate of food and set it on the coffee table before excusing himself. All hope there would be a sexual repeat of this afternoon died as Angie settled in.
“What’s wrong?” Ree asked.
“This test is going to be the death of me,” Angie whined. “It’s so stressful and my parents will kill me if I don’t get a decent score. Do you know how proud of me they sounded when I told them I was going to apply to law school?”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Ree pointed out. “You’ve been studying your behind off.”
Angie kicked into her version of life with her parents and their expectations as Quint slipped out the door with a bag of laundry in his hands.
QUINT HAD ONE of those eyes-on-him feelings as he exited the elevator and then opened the door to the laundry room. He’d turned around twice only to find an empty hallway. He was either becoming paranoid or starting to second-guess himself. Neither was good for his line of work. His backup weapon was tucked neatly inside his ankle holster and within easy reach, he thought as the hairs on the back of his neck pricked.
He loaded up the washer, bought soap from the vending machine and turned around to find Baptiste standing in the doorway. There was no chance this was a coincidence. And Quint realized it because Baptiste wasn’t carrying any laundry. The fact that the man leered at Quint was another clue. There were no weapons in Baptiste’s hands, so that was probably a good sign he didn’t intend to take Quint out of this room in a body bag.
“Need to borrow any soap?” Quint asked, sizing his opponent up. Baptiste was considerably smaller in stature, but Quint would put money on the younger man being surprisingly strong. There was something about his wiry build that said he was scrappy. His nose had been broken at least twice. There was a sizable scar above his left cheek.
“No.” The one-word answer revealed a thick accent.
“Mind if I continue, then?” Quint asked, using the stall tactic to size up his opponent. As it was, he was going to have to walk in front of Baptiste to get to the washer on the other side of the room.
Baptiste shrugged. “Don’t mind me.”
Quint took in a breath and crossed the room. He dug his thumbnail into the packet of laundry soap, creating a sizable hole that he kept plugged with said thumb.
As predicted, Baptiste threw a punch and bum-rushed Quint all at once. Quint unplugged the soap and flung it into Baptiste’s eyes. He yelled a few choice words as he threw a shoulder into Quint, driving him into a stacked dryer unit. He came up with an elbow to the face and heard a snap when he made contact. Another broken nose? This guy was about to get even uglier. Up close, he already had the marks of a professional boxer.
Baptiste drew up his knee but Quint hopped out of the way just in time, having anticipated the move. As Baptiste blinked what must be blurry, burning eyes, Quint emptied the rest of the soap there.
The move caused Baptiste to scream out in pain and throw a flurry of punches. One of them connected to Quint’s jaw, another to his nose.
“What’s your problem exactly?” Quint asked, countering with a punch to Baptiste’s rib cage.
The man doubled over and dropped down to his knees. Quint kicked him with the toe of his boot before walking away and buying another packet of laundry detergent as Baptiste regrouped.
“Don’t you ever look at the little girl I was with earlier again,” he finally spit out.
“Or what?” Quint asked as he walked past the man and then loaded his soap into the machine. “You’ll do what to me?”
“Not just me... My brother will make certain you never walk again.” Baptiste rubbed red eyes as he nodded toward Quint’s ankles.
“Yeah? Tell your brother that his threats don’t scare me and I’ll look at anyone I damn well please,” Quint said through clenched teeth. He’d taken a punch that was going to hurt later once the adrenaline wore off. Frustration burned through him. “But for the record, I don’t give a rat’s... Let’s just say little girls don’t do anything for me.”
“Tell that bitch of a wife of yours to watch it,” Baptiste said as he backpedaled toward the door. “She’s poking around where she doesn’t belong.”
“How about this instead? Mind your own damn business. My wife can speak to whomever she wants, whenever she wants. She’s a grown woman who can think for herself.” Quint felt the trickle of blood from his own nose and figured there’d be some explaining to do when he got home. “And if anything happens to this laundry, I’ll know exactly where to look.”
Baptiste hesitated at the door. He’d underestimated Quint. It wouldn’t happen again. Next time, if there was one, Baptiste would be more prepared.
“Hear what I said” was all Baptiste said before turning to walk away.
Quint made his way back to the apartment, needing to stem the nosebleed. He walked into the apartment after unlocking the door and went straight into the kitchen, hoping the distraction in the next room would stop Ree from figuring out what had just happened. She’d had a bad feeling earlier today, and he didn’t want to worry her. But make no mistake about it, Quint considered himself warned by Constantin.
His first thought was that Constantin knew about the trip to Galveston, but Baptiste hadn’t mentioned anything about it. He’d been concerned about the little girl. As much as Quint wanted to give the guy a medal for his “genuine” concern, he recognized a threat when he received one.
“Hey, honey,” Ree said in a subtle tone that said she needed to be rescued.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, wadding up a few paper towels before pressing them to his nose. He blotted the towel and realized there was a small cut on the side of his nose. He made a move to go to the bathroom but got caught halfway there.
“Honey?” Ree said.
“Bathroom” was all he said. “It’s a nosebleed. The weather must be changing.”
“I get those, too,” Angie said, clearly having had some wine. “It’s how I know the seasons are about to turn.”
Quint didn’t look over, and to Ree that would be suspicious as hell. Angie kept prattling on about living a lie and how hard it was not being honest with her parents, how she was about to fail the LSAT, and how they’d blame her boyfriend if they ever found out about the living arrangement, which clearly they would at some point. She seemed certain of it.
“If they love you, they’ll understand if you get a bad score,” Ree reassured her, but she was drowning.
“I don’t know,” Angie said. “They’re so judgmental and have such high expectations of me. I feel like I disappoint them all the time.”
“I bet they’re proud of you,” Ree said, but there was no conviction in her voice. Was she reminded of her own family’s disapproval of her job? Of her mother’s disappointment in having a daughter who didn’t turn out to be the person she’d hoped?
“Maybe,” Angie said.
“And you know what? Who cares if they aren’t?” Ree finally said, and he had to fight the urge to go into the next room and cheer. Ree was an intelligent, kind, funny and beautiful woman inside and out. How any mother wouldn’t burst with pride at having Ree as her daughter was beyond him.
He grabbed his first aid kit out of the cabinet and checked the mirror. The cut wasn’t bad. Thankfully, the cut wasn’t on top of his head. Those could make a person think they needed a trip to the ER for how much blood came out of the tiniest nick.
After cleaning himself up, he figured hopping in the shower might give Angie the hint to leave. Fifteen minutes later, he joined Ree and their company in the living room.
“I’ll grab the laundry,” he said as Angie stood up. Her wineglass was empty, as was Ree’s, and the tension in Angie’s face was gone.
“I should go,” Angie said, picking up both glasses.
“I’ll walk you out,” Quint offered.
At the door, Ree touched his forearm. Her gaze lingered on the cut on his nose. He gave a slight nod.
“I’ll come to the laundry with you,” Ree offered. “Meet you at the elevator?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He realized instantly that she’d caught on and was going for her weapon.
Angie split, heading into her apartment. Quint held off on pushing the elevator button. At this time of night, it wouldn’t be difficult to get one. Ree joined him a minute later. She hid her waist holster well, but he knew what to look for.
After linking their fingers, he retrieved the elevator. A car waited on their floor, so the bell dinged immediately. It was the same car he’d used a short while ago, and probably a good sign there hadn’t been any activity since. He’d feel even better if this was the only elevator.
The walk down the hallway had him tightening his grip on Ree’s hand. A few steps before the laundry room door, he filled her in on what had happened before he let go of her fingers so they’d be ready to pull a weapon in a heartbeat should the need arise. Quint figured being ready for Baptiste had given him all the advantage he’d needed to dispatch the threat. Being caught off guard always put someone at a disadvantage. His ribs were feeling the pain from a few of those jabs. His face hurt. But he was alive and kicking, and nothing had happened that a good night of sleep and an ibuprofen couldn’t cure.
“Washer’s done,” he said as they entered the quiet room. Ree went right and he went left as though they’d practiced this routine a hundred times. When her side of the room was cleared, she gave the hand signal. He did the same before they reunited at the washer with her clothes inside. She was quiet as she worked and he could tell she was processing the information about him being attacked.
Together, they moved the load into the dryer, checking each piece for signs a listening device had been planted. He doubted it and, based on her expression, so did she. It was important to consider every possibility.
They sat in silence while the dryer spun the clothes around, keeping an eye toward the door just in case. He used a washer as a backrest as she leaned against him. He looped his arms around her, clasping his hands. She stood, back to his chest. Quint could stand like this forever.
The dryer stopped, so they emptied it, draping clothes over their arms so they wouldn’t wrinkle.
Once back inside the apartment, Ree immediately said, “I’ll take care of these.” She shooed him away. “Now, tell me everything that happened with Baptiste in the laundry room.”
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“Nothing too terrible happened. He didn’t like the fact that I saw him with Lili earlier in the day,” he said. “Then he warned me about you getting too close to Lola.”
“I’ve been wanting to tell you something all night but Angie was here,” Ree stated. “Constantin takes Lola to Galveston on her days off like we assumed. Constantin has his own place near here, though. It’s a house, and he’s been pressuring Lola to move in with him. She’s been holding off, says she isn’t certain he’s ‘the one,’ but I can tell it’s something else. There’s something about her disposition that changes when she talks about him.”
“She did just find out he was most likely spying on her via her laptop,” he pointed out.
“That’s true,” she said. “And a very good observation. It might be the stress of realizing her boyfriend doesn’t trust her that causes tension in her face muscles now when she talks about him. I have nothing to compare her reactions to since the subject didn’t come up before she learned the news.”
Quint nodded.
“Learning your boyfriend is spying doesn’t exactly help if there are any trust issues in the first place,” he added.
“True again,” she agreed.
“What about Esteban?” he asked. “Were you able to get information about him?”
“Only that he does work for Constantin sometimes, and that information didn’t come directly from Lola, by the way. He stopped by the bar and seemed to be frustrated about something. I overheard that Esteban is basically being blackmailed into running these ‘special errands’ as he called them,” she informed him.
“He wants nothing to do with Constantin’s business?” he asked.
“Absolutely not,” she confirmed. “He said he wasn’t sure how long he could keep doing it.
“Her response came immediately,” she said. “She told him there was no choice.”
“Sounds like Constantin is holding Esteban’s illegal status over his head,” Quint reasoned. He’d seen it before in past cases. Some folks were just born bad, ready to embrace the wrong side of the law. Others were brought to it by environment, growing up in a rough family situation, neighborhood or both. Then there were those who came to it by circumstance, a quick need for money and the feeling there was no other alternative, or, like in Esteban’s case, blackmail.
“My mind went there, too,” she admitted as she hung up her work blouse. “And that could be another reason why there’s tension in her relationship with Constantin. She might not have known what she was getting into with him when they first started dating. Now, though, she’s figuring out the real him, and it’s not looking good.”
“Knowing Constantin’s business also makes it more difficult to leave him, and she would realize that he wouldn’t want any loose ends running around. Also, the fact that Matias is in town complicates life for Lola and possibly Esteban,” Quint noted. “I’d like to find out from the other team when he arrived in Houston, how frequently he shows up here and if they have a sense of when he might leave.
“Can you reach out to Shelly and find out everything she knows about Matias? There’s not enough in the file to go on or give us any real insight into the man,” Quint said.
“Lola doesn’t like talking about him,” Ree said.
“I’ve never met a person who enjoyed bringing up their past mistakes,” he stated.
Ree nodded. “I’ll shoot a text to Shelly while we’re thinking about it.” She hung up the last of the clothes and retrieved her phone. She sent the text and then set her phone on the nightstand, giving him a look that said things were about to get interesting between them. “Maybe we’ll hear back by morning.”
Quint shrugged out of his T-shirt as Ree climbed onto the bed, toward him.
Her cell phone picked that moment to interrupt them.