Ree finished another ache-inducing, foot-breaking shift, deciding she needed to buy some of those boot inserts from Dr. Scholl’s. Quint waited at the door, as usual, as she made her exit. Her chest squeezed at seeing him standing there and warmth flooded her body.
This time, when he greeted her, he threw his arm around her neck and walked her to the cabin without a kiss. It was probably for the best. A person shouldn’t get used to being kissed so thoroughly by another agent. Plus, they’d successfully sold the lie about being a couple. No one seemed suspicious in the least about their relationship status.
When he unlocked and then opened the door, she gasped.
“Where did you get all this?” she asked. The table was set; candles were lit. There were roses on the table.
“Grappell finished your social media page this afternoon. He pieced together a few pictures but thought we should have recent ones about embarking on our new life,” Quint said. “He wants us to take one tonight.”
“Good idea,” she said, tamping down her disappointment. “I’ll just change out of this uniform and throw it in the wash. Be right back.” She set her phone on the table. “Why don’t you go ahead and set up the shot you want.”
This wasn’t a real relationship. She and Quint weren’t newlyweds. They weren’t even friends in real life. He was a veteran agent and she was fortunate enough to get to work with him. Blurring the lines between work and real life wouldn’t be good for her. Then again, Ree’s mother would be happy to point out that at thirty-six years old, Ree had no life outside of work and no prospects of giving the woman grandchildren.
Ree washed the heavier makeup off her face with a makeup wipe, changed into a sundress and threw in a load of laundry.
“Once we get the picture, we can turn the lights on,” Quint said as she joined him in the main living space. “Not much happened on my visit to Lorenzo’s house.”
She shot him a confused look. Then it seemed to dawn on her who he was actually talking about. “I’m so used to calling him Chef at work.”
“Right now, let’s get the shot for Grappell,” Quint said through gritted teeth.
Ree took in a deep breath and turned on the camera feature on her phone with a swipe, wishing she’d brushed her hair while she was in the bathroom. With the roses, the candles and the bottle of wine that had beads of sweat from being chilled in the fridge and then set on the table, she couldn’t help but wish this was reality. The setup was convincing enough.
She snapped a couple of shots of the table by itself so that she could find the best one. Then she took a selfie in front of the table. And then she brought Quint in for the shot.
He stood behind her, his masculine frame dwarfing her. She leaned into his muscled chest and her stomach free-fell. She tried to convince herself it was just the mood that had her wishing this was real. It had been a long time since she’d been on a romantic date like this one. She couldn’t remember the last Valentine’s Day she’d spent with someone.
Reaching back, she found Quint’s hand and brought it around just under her breasts. She held on to him. It took a few seconds for her to realize how tight her grip was. Nerves?
There was no reason for them. This was nothing more than a photo shoot. Try to tell that to her senses every time she breathed in his warm, spicy scent.
“Okay. Hold still,” she said, lifting the phone for the couple selfie. She snapped the pic but didn’t immediately move. Neither did he. She could, however, feel his heartbeat thumping wildly against her. The frantic rhythm matched her own.
Suddenly, her throat dried up. She tried to swallow but it was basically a desert in there.
Pulling on all her strength, she cleared her throat and took a step forward.
“I got it,” she said, and the air in the room suddenly became all kinds of awkward. “Um, should I send the pictures to Grappell or do you want to?”
“They’re on your phone,” Quint said, turning away from her. He walked over and flipped on the light like it was nothing, but a storm brewed behind those sapphire blues. It was more than a little satisfying that he seemed affected every time they got too close.
“Lorenzo seems innocent,” he said, taking a seat at the table before ladling out soup.
“I get the same feeling,” she said, taking a chair opposite him after tapping the screen a few times in a flurry. She sent the pictures, so that was good. Time to get her emotions under control and her head back in the game. “Is that sourdough bread?”
“Made fresh for us, apparently,” Quint said and his voice came across with the same emotion as someone reading the ingredients on a cereal box. “I have a good impression of the guy.” He explained his reasoning.
“This all smells amazing,” she said, taking a few seconds to process the shift. “And I do, too.”
Quint nodded as he dug into the soup. “Minestrone.”
“I could tell,” she said. “What about the bug in my purse? Did you get anything there?”
“All I can tell you is that when Charley doesn’t want anyone to hear what is being said in the breakroom he turns up music and talks too low to be audible,” he said.
“Not exactly the actions of an innocent man,” she noted.
“No, they are not,” he confirmed.
“But that also tells me you didn’t get anything to work with,” she stated. “Maybe I can take the trash out and drop a bug outside. There’s no way Fender and Charley are only discussing waitresses and how the shift went when they go out there.”
“Absolutely not,” he said so quickly it almost made her head spin.
“I could—”
“Implicate yourself and give away our whole operation. Do you know how many undercover missions I’ve had to abort in my career?” he asked.
“No, but I didn’t know there’d be a pop quiz, either,” she quipped, not appreciating how cold he was suddenly being toward her.
For a split second she saw his jaw muscle tick, and that was not a good sign. Then he shook his head and seemed to laugh to himself. She sure wished he’d let her in on the joke. The temperature around this man could change in a heartbeat.
That wasn’t entirely fair but she ran with it anyway. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings that he’d snapped back into professional mode.
“THE ANSWER IS ONE,” Quint said. “It was my rookie year and I made a promise it would never happen again. Because do you know what happens when a cover is blown?”
“The case is abandoned,” she said.
“And guilty jerks get to walk free,” he added. “They often relocate and it can take years to get anything on them again.”
“What about Tessa’s case?” she asked without making eye contact.
“We busted the small guys. The lower tier on a crime ring out of Romania,” he said.
“Weapons? Trafficking?” she asked.
“Weapons,” he said.
“I’ve heard about a few other Romanian rings. None of it has been good,” she admitted.
“This group seemed harder than the others. If one of their own became sick while crossing the border or moving weapons, they literally shot them and dumped the body,” he said.
She shivered. “That’s ruthless.”
“A-12 is the group we spent weeks cracking. And we got in, too. Drugs were involved so DEA showed up on bust day. It quickly became clear there were some political ties to this case, considering the multiagency approach. The governor needed a win against them to counter the fact crime was rising in the state,” he explained. “So, yeah, it got complicated.”
“Sounds like you arrested A-12,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
He nodded. “I’ve always felt like it was the tip of the iceberg, though. One of our informants gave us the name Dumitru before it all went down. Once the dust settled, I checked back. No one arrested went by that name. I’ve always had a niggling feeling we caught the small fry and missed the big fish. The night of the bust, a motorcycle was parked out front. It was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. A window was open in the middle of January during a cold front, which we all know never happens at night in Texas. Someone else was there and the five guys we arrested seemed worried about going to jail.”
“Isn’t that normal?” she asked.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a file. “Take a look at this.”
She studied the information for a long moment.
“Each of the five died in prison within two weeks of each other,” she said.
“Two were suspected to have committed suicide. Two were killed. The last guy was put in solitary confinement for his own protection. Guess what happened? He was poisoned. How did they get to him there?” He set the phone down in between them. “No one went to trial.”
“So no one could roll over on anyone else,” she surmised.
“Exactly. I know I was distracted once Tessa was shot. I can wholeheartedly admit that all my energy went into saving her once the place was secured. But I can’t shake the look on the perps’ faces when they looked at each other after we arrested them and walked them out,” he said. “They seemed resigned to die.”
“And that’s exactly what happened,” she stated. “All very interesting.”
He nodded.
“I’m guessing you didn’t leave the investigation alone,” she said. “What else did you find?”
“Not much,” he said. “The trail died with the five guys who were arrested. I shopped the name Dumitru around but have been told by every informant I’ve ever known that he either doesn’t exist or left the country.”
“But you don’t believe it?” she asked.
“It’s a convenient excuse,” he said. “Here’s the rub. The minute I bring the name up, people get real uncomfortable. Every single time.”
“Which means they’re scared.” She was a quick study.
“Terrified. One of my trustiest guys asked me never to bring that name up around him again. Right after he told me the guy probably went back to Romania,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What happened to the informant who gave you the name Dumitru in the first place?”
“I don’t know. No one has seen or heard from him since,” he stated.
“Why am I not surprised?” She also realized how much Quint would want to nail this jerk.
Quint stood up and then cleared the dishes from the table. Ree set her phone screen-side down before joining him.
“I got this,” he said.
“I’d like to help,” she countered. “I feel like I’m getting off too easy around here.”
“You’re doing all the heavy lifting, remember?” he asked.
“I’m making decent tips,” she quipped, retrieving a bankroll from her handbag. She sat down at the table and started counting. “Too bad we don’t get to keep any of this.”
He smiled.
“Nope. But you can hang on to it for a while until we have to turn it over,” he said.
“I’m only working the dinner shift tomorrow, by the way,” she said. “The waitress I’ve been covering for is coming back to work. I figured you and I could run some errands. Grab lunch in town. See if we can meet any more locals.”
“Good ideas,” he said.
“It’s what young couples do who’ve just relocated to a new area. They make friends,” she said.
“Sounds awful,” he quipped.
“I’m more of a movie person when I get a night off. Unless there’s something to do,” she said.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A concert is nice. I like festivals,” she said before adding, “but not ones involving eating or tossing a cricket, cooked or stuffed.”
“There’s a German beer festival called Wurstfest that’s in New Braunfels every year,” he said. “Have you been?”
“Are you kidding? Of course, I have. It’s one of my grandfather’s favorites,” she said, practically beaming at the mention of her grandfather. It wasn’t hard to realize the two were close. Then again, in a family with four boys and one girl, she was probably his princess. Losing her father must have done a number on the family and had to be the reason for her mother’s concerns over Ree’s chosen line of work. “Did you know it started out being called Sausage Festival?”
“Glad that name didn’t last,” he quipped, thinking it was a little too easy to talk to Ree.
Then again, he could use a friend even though the annoying voice in the back of his head tried to tell him the ship had sailed.
“Seriously, though,” she said with a laugh that caused his heart to squeeze. When the dishes were done, he turned to find her staring at him. She immediately dropped her gaze.
“So, what about you?” He figured it was now or never. “You asked me if I was in a relationship. Are you?”
Quint suddenly felt beads of sweat form on his forehead as he waited for her answer. It wasn’t like he and Ree had a relationship outside of this case. He shook it off, figuring he was just missing his friend a little too much lately. The six-month anniversary of Tessa’s death was around the corner.
“No,” she said before standing and mumbling something about taking a shower.
Why did his heart hammer against his ribs at the thought of her being available?