Hearts on the Line

“I guess it pays to own a construction company.”

“In this case, yes. I won’t be taking security lightly, either. I’ve hired several extra people to look out for our offices and outlying buildings.”

Relief flowed through her. “Good. I’m glad you’re being careful.”

“If you’re a Vance or Montgomery lately in Colorado Springs, you have to be.”

“Which reminds me, we arrested Ritchie Stark. He’ll be charged in Neil O’Brien’s murder.” She started to stand.

“I know.”

She halted in midmotion, slicing him a look. “How? It just happened late last night.”

“Sam told me this morning at church.”

Becca straightened, for a few seconds hovering over Quinn until he rose. He stood only a foot away, his clean, fresh scent that reminded her of a pine forest wafting to her. Dressed in tan slacks and a navy blue polo shirt, he looked like he had come right from church.

“What was Stark’s motive?”

“He’s not saying at the moment. He lawyered up. Maybe some jail time will loosen his tongue. I doubt he’ll make bail.”

“I keep wondering if all this is connected. Everything started with Max’s attempted murder. I’ve been thinking—Escalante has to be behind the attempt on the mayor because of what happened last year. But what connection does Escalante have with Neil O’Brien? With Dahlia Sainsbury? Was Alessandro right about Dahlia working for Escalante? If so, why is she dead? What changed?”

Becca skirted her glass coffee table and snatched up her purse. “You ask some very good questions. Ones we hope to get answers to soon. Stark’s arrest is our big break. Having suspicions is one thing. We need proof to hold up in a court of law.” She withdrew her car keys. “I’ll follow you to your house.”

“I’ll drive.”

“But that means you have to come back here.”

“I have to anyway. I need to get some measurements in your kitchen. I’ll need a few things from my house.”

“I have a yardstick.”

“Not exactly what I need. It’s only fifteen minutes away and remember, I have the whole afternoon.”

“You sound like you don’t know what to do with free time.”

“Free time. What’s that? I haven’t had any in months.”

“Then I insist you wait until Wednesday to start. I don’t want to take away any of your free time. Believe me, I know how hard it is to come by.”

“So we have established we’re both workaholics,” he said with a laugh, stepping outside onto the porch while she locked her front door.

“Is there any other way?”

“Actually, yes. Before Dad retired and I took over the business, I knew what a vacation meant. This is temporary for me. I don’t intend for my whole life to be work. There’s so much more to life.”

Work was all she knew, Becca thought, not sure she could live any other way. “Vacation? What’s that?”

“Perhaps I need to teach you how to play, Becca Hilliard.”

The idea intrigued Becca more than she wanted to admit. Then she remembered all the unsolved cases of late and knew she wouldn’t be playing anytime soon.

THREE

Quinn pulled into his driveway, wondering if the reason he was drawn to Becca was because they both needed to work less and play more. God, are You trying to tell me something? I know I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately. I plan to slow down—soon. I don’t want to go back to how I was after Maggie’s death. If You hadn’t knocked some sense into me, I would have self-destructed.

“Somehow I figured you for an ultramodern kind of guy.” Becca gestured toward his large Victorian house, painted white with forest green shutters and a profusion of multicolored flowers adorning the beds along the front.

He switched off the engine. “Why?”

“I’ve seen a couple of the buildings your company has constructed. They’re all glass and chrome.”

“Not all the buildings. Besides, I have to follow the architect’s plans. I execute someone else’s dream.”

She angled around so she faced him in the cab of his truck. “Did you want to be an architect?”

Her innocent question threw him back twelve years in the past, to a time when he had been full of dreams. “At one time,” he said, aware there was a pensive quality to his voice, but he couldn’t disguise it.

“What happened?”

“Life’s little unexpected twists. My father had a bad accident and needed me to run the business. He was laid up for almost a year. In fact, he still uses a cane because of that accident. I quit college and never went back even when he took over the reins again.”

“Why not?”

He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I found I also love working with wood, making beautiful things. And my father needed me. The company was growing so fast and he couldn’t do it all.” Remembering the war that had raged inside him brought back a rush of emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. He had wanted to return to college and finish his degree in architecture. His father had wanted him to continue working in the business so he could take it over one day.

“Family has a way of consuming our lives.”

“Yes, but it’s a good thing. I want a large one someday. You should see some of our family gatherings. Kids running all over the place. Laughter. Adamant discussions that never totally explode into an argument. That’s why I went into the business. For the family.”

Becca picked up her purse from the floor of the cab. “I know what you mean. After my mother passed away, it was either me raising my siblings or the state placing them in foster care. I couldn’t let that happen. I quit college, got a secretarial job at the police station and took them in.”

“When did you decide to become a police officer?”

“Almost from day one. But it was two years before I went to the police academy.” A thin layer of perspiration coated her upper lip. With the air-conditioning off and the windows rolled up, heat began to build up in the small cab. “How about the grand tour?”

He laughed. “I’m not sure about the grand part, but I’ll show you a few of the things I’ve done to my house. It might give you some ideas of possibilities for yours.”

When Becca climbed from the truck, she scanned the lawn with its lush green grass, not a weed among the blades. Landscaped and well-tended beds added a richness to the front of the house with its orange, yellow and red flowers. “Do you like to do yard work, too?”

“Not my thing. I have someone come once a week to work in my yard. I love a beautiful lawn. I just don’t want to do the work.”

“A man after my own heart,” Becca murmured, then realized what she had said. She didn’t normally blurt out the first words that came into her mind, but with Quinn she found herself relaxing around him to the point where she had talked about things she usually kept private. Most unusual and not altogether unpleasant.

She mounted the stairs to the wraparound porch with forest green wicker furniture and a swing mounted from the ceiling. Her assessment of Quinn Montgomery was evolving and shifting the more she was around him. He was a wealthy, successful businessman, a prominent figure in Colorado Springs society, and yet he seemed so down-to-earth and nonchalant, except where it concerned his family, when a fierce protectiveness entered his demeanor. She liked that about the man.

When she stepped into his house, her breath caught at the beauty of the staircase that curved down from the second floor. Made of a rich mahogany, polished to a shine, its intricate carved railing made a sweeping statement of beauty as a person entered his house.